I'm flying this weekend to SeasideTown, MA, for the wedding of Cricket's childhood friend. It should be fun, although her parents' housecats give me the wheezie, and I hate not being at my charming best when I'm with the parents. I'm stressed, a little, because this is the sixth weekend of seven I haven't been able to work, and that gives me the Fear pretty bad. I had a major piece of equipment break in my lab yesterday, which lowered morale further.
On the plus side, I have a wireless router now, and am bit-torrenting the shit out of like 10 Galactica episodes. Go, me.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Start rich, stay rich
After a conference where I gave not one but two short talks, which were well received even if not well understood, I ditched the final schmooze and hopped in my car to join my Cricket at the Princeton reunions. These are strange affairs: it seems most of the people who go to Princeton delight in returning. I went to a large (yet fancy!) public school, so reunions are the sort of thing reserved for Greeks, which I was not. GDI, in the parlance of the time.
Princeton reunions are very cultlike. Everyone comes back for their mod-5 reunions, and each of those gets a huge tent. There's a lot of drinking. There's a ridiculous P-rade.
Jakov, physicist and class warrior, joined me, so that in the moments when Cricket was overwhelmed with Princeton glee and forgot about me I would have someone to talk to. We were both pretty shocked at the larval ruling class making beasts of themselves. Then again I'm a bit of a hypocrite, and made a beast of myself. A hell of a good time, actually.
We lunched at her Eating Club. Great catering. I enjoyed the wood-paneled library.
Would I send my kids to Princeton? Hell yes. Am I a little bit bitter they didn't accept me for undergrad? Yeah, a bit. Is the Princeton thing a feature or bug re: Cricket? Definitely feature. Do I reserve the right to be a little weirded out by the whole thing? Yeah, a bit.
On the way back to DC we hung out in Philly (her flying out of Philly to Chicago) with her bro and his wife and kid. He's younger than me but has been in the Navy for N years and went to Annapolis. So he feels older. I envy him his permanent job, but not necessarily the stress of having a wife/kid/new house/new job combo. Will that be me in a few years?
Princeton reunions are very cultlike. Everyone comes back for their mod-5 reunions, and each of those gets a huge tent. There's a lot of drinking. There's a ridiculous P-rade.
Jakov, physicist and class warrior, joined me, so that in the moments when Cricket was overwhelmed with Princeton glee and forgot about me I would have someone to talk to. We were both pretty shocked at the larval ruling class making beasts of themselves. Then again I'm a bit of a hypocrite, and made a beast of myself. A hell of a good time, actually.
We lunched at her Eating Club. Great catering. I enjoyed the wood-paneled library.
Would I send my kids to Princeton? Hell yes. Am I a little bit bitter they didn't accept me for undergrad? Yeah, a bit. Is the Princeton thing a feature or bug re: Cricket? Definitely feature. Do I reserve the right to be a little weirded out by the whole thing? Yeah, a bit.
On the way back to DC we hung out in Philly (her flying out of Philly to Chicago) with her bro and his wife and kid. He's younger than me but has been in the Navy for N years and went to Annapolis. So he feels older. I envy him his permanent job, but not necessarily the stress of having a wife/kid/new house/new job combo. Will that be me in a few years?
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Nice
A smooth drive up: 3 1/2 hours from Adams Morgan to the Liberty State Park ferry in Jersey City. Squalls and wind on the ferry out, sunshine on the way back. A disappointingly long line for security on the island, complete with those awful GE air-spritzing machines.
I spent half an hour getting through security once on the island, then an hour wandering around the monument itself. It's impressive. Needless to say, I was alone, but I kind of liked it that way. I'm glad I went.
The ferries were slow and peaceful, and were full of schoolchildren and moms. The view of NYC from the ferry was really stunning, especially once the sun peeked through the clouds on the way back.
A smooth four hours back, except for some commuter stuff on the beltway in DC.
I spent half an hour getting through security once on the island, then an hour wandering around the monument itself. It's impressive. Needless to say, I was alone, but I kind of liked it that way. I'm glad I went.
The ferries were slow and peaceful, and were full of schoolchildren and moms. The view of NYC from the ferry was really stunning, especially once the sun peeked through the clouds on the way back.
A smooth four hours back, except for some commuter stuff on the beltway in DC.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
problem
I have a moral quandary. Tomorrow is May 22, 2008. Ten years ago, I graduated from college. And let me forestall your complaint- I'm not whining about age; I've spent this decade well: two years in a job I liked, six years in grad school, and now two years in a job I really like. So yeah, go me.
The thing is, I have a promise to fulfill. The summer after my college graduation, I stuck around for a while, working for a professor, and psyching myself up for Real Life. My best friend at the time (or local best friend, at least), who I had been through heaven and hell with, was this fellow I'll call T. We were the only ones in our respective majors who were double majoring, and the only ones who appeared to really be into one of those two majors. Of our fellow majors, we each also were basically the only one the other could stand to spend a lot of time with. There were a lot of late nights, a lot of bonding, a lot of good stuff like that. We were pretty different personalities, but we got along out of a common thread of obsession re: our subject of study, and shared dislike for our peers. The esprit de corps of shared suffering, if you will. To this day, nobody has gotten me a better or more surprising birthday present, pace Cricket.
So one day, that summer, looking to a future, and being whimsical lads, we made a pact to meet ten years down the road. The rules: it was to be at the Statue of Liberty, at noon, ten years from the date of our college graduation. If the Statue wasn't open that day, then the immediate day following.
The other rule was that we couldn't ever speak of it again. Failure to show up would be punishable by a hefty gift obligation.
So, awkwardly enough, and it pains me to even write about it, we had a huge falling out that fall after I left. I had been in agony the last year of college over a girl, who I was good friends with, and on who I had a huge crush. T knew her as well- we ran in the same circles- but he had mostly been my counselor through the process, usually of the sack-up/get-a-life pep-talk variety. I had tried to escalate with her but had been clearly told that it wasn't going to happen. It didn't change my feelings, really. Anyway, the fall after I left, they got together. I was alone in the new city, and was absolutely wrecked. I was 21. It was really pathetic. I hated them both. They apologized a lot, and broke up maybe a year later.
I've kept up with him over the years, but not with her. He and I are ...civil. We haven't been friends since the fall of 1998, though.
I had thought for many years that I would go to the Statue tomorrow, out of a sense of honor for my own promises and out of a spirit of the happy pre-screwing-me-over memories. And I would, but...holy shit, is my job a shite-heap of stress and obligation right now. I basically would waste day driving to NYC and back, although the effort would probably cost me enough emotional capital that I would need to track down one of several good friends in the city to get drunk with.
Should I go? I put the odds of him going at maybe 1%. He lives in the Bay Area and is writing a thesis, so it would be ridiculously inconvenient for him.
The thing is, I have a promise to fulfill. The summer after my college graduation, I stuck around for a while, working for a professor, and psyching myself up for Real Life. My best friend at the time (or local best friend, at least), who I had been through heaven and hell with, was this fellow I'll call T. We were the only ones in our respective majors who were double majoring, and the only ones who appeared to really be into one of those two majors. Of our fellow majors, we each also were basically the only one the other could stand to spend a lot of time with. There were a lot of late nights, a lot of bonding, a lot of good stuff like that. We were pretty different personalities, but we got along out of a common thread of obsession re: our subject of study, and shared dislike for our peers. The esprit de corps of shared suffering, if you will. To this day, nobody has gotten me a better or more surprising birthday present, pace Cricket.
So one day, that summer, looking to a future, and being whimsical lads, we made a pact to meet ten years down the road. The rules: it was to be at the Statue of Liberty, at noon, ten years from the date of our college graduation. If the Statue wasn't open that day, then the immediate day following.
The other rule was that we couldn't ever speak of it again. Failure to show up would be punishable by a hefty gift obligation.
So, awkwardly enough, and it pains me to even write about it, we had a huge falling out that fall after I left. I had been in agony the last year of college over a girl, who I was good friends with, and on who I had a huge crush. T knew her as well- we ran in the same circles- but he had mostly been my counselor through the process, usually of the sack-up/get-a-life pep-talk variety. I had tried to escalate with her but had been clearly told that it wasn't going to happen. It didn't change my feelings, really. Anyway, the fall after I left, they got together. I was alone in the new city, and was absolutely wrecked. I was 21. It was really pathetic. I hated them both. They apologized a lot, and broke up maybe a year later.
I've kept up with him over the years, but not with her. He and I are ...civil. We haven't been friends since the fall of 1998, though.
I had thought for many years that I would go to the Statue tomorrow, out of a sense of honor for my own promises and out of a spirit of the happy pre-screwing-me-over memories. And I would, but...holy shit, is my job a shite-heap of stress and obligation right now. I basically would waste day driving to NYC and back, although the effort would probably cost me enough emotional capital that I would need to track down one of several good friends in the city to get drunk with.
Should I go? I put the odds of him going at maybe 1%. He lives in the Bay Area and is writing a thesis, so it would be ridiculously inconvenient for him.
Friday, May 2, 2008
many worlds
In one possible universe, I could see myself doing this:
Nature Physics editor.
It's funny how the first thought I had was that moving to England probably was a dumb idea, and second, that it probably didn't pay that well.
On second thought, though, I bet they do pay decent; plus, weak dollar!
For a guy who digs on both science and writing/reading, this could be a decent gig. My quest to become Cornelius Bear would be in full motion.
Nature Physics editor.
It's funny how the first thought I had was that moving to England probably was a dumb idea, and second, that it probably didn't pay that well.
On second thought, though, I bet they do pay decent; plus, weak dollar!
For a guy who digs on both science and writing/reading, this could be a decent gig. My quest to become Cornelius Bear would be in full motion.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
bears
I went camping in Shenandoah last weekend with two grad school friends, Space-Monkey and Jakov. They arrived Thursday night, and while packing we ate pizzas and drank beer and watched Highlander. They slept on my floor, which they didn't mind, because they're tough.
We packed up and drove out to Skyline, picked up some fishing licenses from a tiny-ass redneck mom-and-pop ammo shop, complete with pronouncements on the gun laws of every state on the drivers' licenses we gave them. "California is a retaaaarded state!"
We hiked down from some parking lot about 3 or 4 miles into the backcountry, along a stream called Jeremy's Run. There were about five or six stream crossings, which were really annoying. I'd never had to do those before. Jakov was Mr. Balance and probably only did two-thirds of them but I really didn't like the thought of falling facefirst off a log.
We found a good secluded clearing to camp in, and commenced two days of trout fishing, whiskey-drinking, and exploring. I caught my first trout. I cleaned my first trout. I ate my first trout! It was exciting. We need more whiskey, though.
When we ran out of whiskey late Saturday, after hiding in our tents waiting for a thunderstorm to pass, we explored the ridge behind our campground, and ran into a black bear. We saw him about fifty yards away, and stopped; he then disappeared, and then reappeared from another angle about twenty-five yards away. That was our cue: slowly get the fuck out of there. Thankfully he didn't follow us back to camp.
It rained a lot Saturday night, but my one-man tent's fly held. The hike out was brutal and quick: one hour or so up out of the valley.
We had beers and good pub food at Ventnor's in Adams Morgan after coming back. One thing I love about DC: even the shitty bars have decent kitchens.
We packed up and drove out to Skyline, picked up some fishing licenses from a tiny-ass redneck mom-and-pop ammo shop, complete with pronouncements on the gun laws of every state on the drivers' licenses we gave them. "California is a retaaaarded state!"
We hiked down from some parking lot about 3 or 4 miles into the backcountry, along a stream called Jeremy's Run. There were about five or six stream crossings, which were really annoying. I'd never had to do those before. Jakov was Mr. Balance and probably only did two-thirds of them but I really didn't like the thought of falling facefirst off a log.
We found a good secluded clearing to camp in, and commenced two days of trout fishing, whiskey-drinking, and exploring. I caught my first trout. I cleaned my first trout. I ate my first trout! It was exciting. We need more whiskey, though.
When we ran out of whiskey late Saturday, after hiding in our tents waiting for a thunderstorm to pass, we explored the ridge behind our campground, and ran into a black bear. We saw him about fifty yards away, and stopped; he then disappeared, and then reappeared from another angle about twenty-five yards away. That was our cue: slowly get the fuck out of there. Thankfully he didn't follow us back to camp.
It rained a lot Saturday night, but my one-man tent's fly held. The hike out was brutal and quick: one hour or so up out of the valley.
We had beers and good pub food at Ventnor's in Adams Morgan after coming back. One thing I love about DC: even the shitty bars have decent kitchens.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
A decent day.
Today was the sort of day off that I haven't had for a while. I slept 'til 11, made myself pancakes, and headed to a coworker's apartment in the distant suburbs to watch basketball, drink beer, and have Chinese food delivered. The basketball games sucked, the Chinese food was forgettable, and I don't think I'll be hanging out there often. But it was relaxing.
I decided not to turn it into a Saturday like last week's, so headed home to eat pie, clean my apartment a little, and watch season 4 Wire eps. Tomorrow's a big day; I think all the pieces of the last month or so might come together in the lab.
I'm reading A Prayer for Owen Meany, mostly because my supervisor who I respect made a casual reference to it in a meeting and I'm kind of curious about what sort of books he reads. John Irving is one of those authors who I've perpetually avoided for no particular reason. It's OK, but I probably won't pick up more of him. I mostly liked the parts about the old man in the "present" (1987) day, and the evocation of the 60s. I didn't really care for the the New England WASP fetishization. But Cricket went to a private school in Cambridge, MA, and then Princeton, so I really need to be careful about how I say these things. But technically she was born in Cali, so fuckit.
I decided not to turn it into a Saturday like last week's, so headed home to eat pie, clean my apartment a little, and watch season 4 Wire eps. Tomorrow's a big day; I think all the pieces of the last month or so might come together in the lab.
I'm reading A Prayer for Owen Meany, mostly because my supervisor who I respect made a casual reference to it in a meeting and I'm kind of curious about what sort of books he reads. John Irving is one of those authors who I've perpetually avoided for no particular reason. It's OK, but I probably won't pick up more of him. I mostly liked the parts about the old man in the "present" (1987) day, and the evocation of the 60s. I didn't really care for the the New England WASP fetishization. But Cricket went to a private school in Cambridge, MA, and then Princeton, so I really need to be careful about how I say these things. But technically she was born in Cali, so fuckit.
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