Beyond Words: A Universal Illustrated Guide to Xolo's Life

Headin' South, Again (or have I mentioned how much moving sucks?)


I am driving back down to New York tomorrow. I am taking a few things down and I will spend the night in our new digs. I will probably hit IKEA (I always pronounce it ee-keh-ah because I first visited one in Sweden when I was studying abroad there) to get some rugs and a shower curtain. I have a feeling we will be visiting that place quite often.

On Thursday I have to go to a benefits orientation at the college. Orientations are no fun, but I am extremely thankful that I will have benefits.

I am getting tired of the drive. I will do it again next week with Sara and the dogs. And one more time the following week with a moving truck.

The Likeness is Uncanny!

[via Frankie]

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Indiana Jones. Indiana Jones is an archaeologist/adventurer with an unquenchable love for danger and excitement. He travels the globe in search of historical relics. He loves travel, excitement, and a good archaeological discovery. He hates Nazis and snakes, perhaps to the same degree. He always brings along his trusty whip and fedora. He's tough, cool, and dedicated. He relies on both brains and brawn to get him out of trouble and into it.

Well, Indy and I do share the following traits:

• I do have an irrational fear of snakes.
• We are both professors.
• I am also an anthropologist (arachaeology is a sub-field of anthro).
• We like to travel.
• I, too, hate N*a*z*is.
  
• Tough, cool, and dedicated - maybe not...
• A whip? Some guy in Tijuana offered to sell me one.
  

I really should get a Fedora and a leather jacket - maybe that would change my job search fortunes. I do like the suit he wears at the end of Raiders.

Better Wine Tonight

Better Wine Tonight

At the same co-op that we bought the ill-fated Boston wine, I also found a bottle made in the same small town where my granpa lives. It is the same small town I spent my first year living in the US - my sophomore year in high school.

There are a couple of very small wineries there, but the wines are decent to good. I went wine tasting the last time I was there. Their production is small and the distribution is generally local. So I was quite surprised to see a bottle all the way over here on the east coast. The reason it made it, I think, is that the wine is organic and sulphite-free and we were smack dab in the middle of the People's Republic of Cambridge in an earthy co-op no less. I had to get it, for sentimental and nostaligic reasons.

It was a Syrah - usually not my favorite variatal. This one was different. It still had the peppery-ness of a Syrah, but it was more subdued. The aromas, however, were intense and there were hints of chocolate and coffee in the wine. I think Sara was perplexed by it - not quite sure if she liked it or not. Maybe she did not like it and did not want to offend my sensibilities knowing that I had a conection to the terroir from which it hailed. Not likely. Sara speaks her mind and she did drink it (which more that can be said about the Boston wine and another Syrah we bought a while back that tasted like it was made in a barnyard or horse stable).

I did not mean to write this much on wine. I just got carried away.

Otherwise:

• There have been only two tepid inquiries into the car. Not promising.
• Lux got me hooked on this CD trading site. I have gotten rid of some CDs I never listened to or did not like and I picked up a few that I wanted. It seems that a lot of the trading involves people getting CDs of things they used to have on vinyl a long time ago. Just an observation.
• I believe this sign is mean:

• I saw a similar one that said, "Slow Construction Ahead." That would explain why road work is never done in Boston.
• Have I mentioned that I hate moving?
• I joined a bunch of MeetUp groups in NY. I belonged to a couple here - never went to anything. Let's hope NY is better.
• I washed the dogs' bedding today - the lint filter in the drier was overwhelmed by all the fur.
• The dogs know something is up already. They also think moving sucks.
• I made a nice Caprese salad for dinner tonight with our home-grown basil. The basil is quite happy (and tasty). It doesn't know we are moving. Good thing, that would make it bitter.

I need to get some sleep, if you haven't noticed.

A Winery in Boston?

We were poking around a Co-op in Central Square in Cambridge when we ran across a wine called Cantina Bostonia. It is made here in Boston out of California grapes.

It was not very expensive, so we decided to give it a try. I wish I could say it was good.

I can't.

Maybe we got a bad bottle - quite possible with such a small production outfit. The bottle we got is very acidic (not quite to vinegar, though) and it is excessively fruity.

With so many other wonderful bottles out there, I think I will stay away from Cantina Bostonia. And in any case, we are moving to New York.

Update: It is acceptable in Sangria.

Anybody Wanna Buy a Car?

Check out the Craigslist Ad.

Things have been hectic and busy. Among other things I have been trying to:

• Work on my syllabi for my fall courses
• Figure out what I am going to teach in the Spring - I need to propose the courses to the curriculum committee and get them approved. The process starts in September, so I also have to have the syllabi for those courses written.
• Deal with the mundane bureaucratic aspects of moving - setting up utilities, cancelling utilities, requesting mail to be forwarded, figuring out driver's license requirements, car registrations, etc.
• It turns out that I need a social security card to get a license in New York. I haven't had the actual card since I was about seven. So tomorrow I need to trudge down to the SS building to try to get a replacement card.
• Ah yes, packing.
• And chucking. How did we accumulate so much stuff?
• And getting stuff to put our stuff in. George Carlin's bit on stuff is one of the greatest comedic routines of all time (you can read it at the link, but Carlin's delivery and piercing sarcastic tone is what makes it so great).
• And dealing with movers who want to charge more than an arm and a leg (think genitalia) to move our stuff - most of it is not worth all that much. So there will be more chucking in the future. Anyone want some furniture?

Other than that, not much going on.

What Have I Been Doing?

Sara will tell you.

But I will show you.

We saw this:

And many more like it.

Fascinating.

And I must say I am very happy that I don't smoke or work in a coal mine. Those lungs were pretty nasty. Although I do have scarring on my lungs from living in Mexico City for almost sixteen years.

If you have a chance to see the exhibit (it's in Boston until January and in Houston next year) you definitely should.

An Infernal Place


I have seen what hell is like. And I'd rather not go back.

I admit, I like to complain. I have also been in some very unpleasant situations. Perhaps some were worse that the one I found myself in last Thursday, but at this point I don't think so.

Last Thursday hell was at the 169th Street subway station in New York.

On that day it was about 105 degrees with an opressive humidity. It was much, much hotter in the subway station. Of course I walked down the stairs only to see the train I needed pull out of the station. So I sat on an uncomfortable wooden bench and watched the few people who made their way down into the station begin to wilt.

As I waited I became cognizant of every single sweat pore in my body. Why? Because every single one was engaged in releasing copious amounts of moisture in a futile attempt to cool my body. I discovered sweat emerging from places in my body that I never realized had sweat glands. Minid you, I have been in steam baths and saunas many times. In the daze that was coming over me I was morbidly fascinated by the beads of moisture that eminated from every possibly point in my body.

The stagnant air became suffocating. The only relief came when one of the four or five trains that were headed in the other direction entered and left the station for these were the only times the air moved at all.

In retrospect I should have gotten out of the station. The lightheadedness and fading vision were probably a warning that my body was not pleased with the situation. By then, however, clear thinking was beyond me and the hope that a train with its heavenly cool air would come to my rescue was the only thing pulsing through my mind.

So I waited.

And I began to drown in my sweat.

And then I waited some more.

I believe that it was after twenty or twenty five minutes after I first arrived that my passage out of that infernal place arrived.

The cool air inside the train revived me - to a point. As I began to rehydrate and regain clear thought, I felt as though I had been in a tumble drier. I was somewhat dizzy and disoriented.

It is now a few days later and I still feel somewhat in a daze.

I am certain that the station I was in is not the same station that is part of the NY subway system. Somehow I stumbled into some type of metaphysical warp that took me to an another place that while it looked like a subway station it was a locale of penance. It gave me a glimpse of a place in which no human should be.

I hope I never end up there again.

Candidate for Worst Job


As much as I like to complain, nothing in my life can compare to having what must qualify as one of the worst jobs ever: being a trash collector in Boston (or any city in the Northeast) tomorrow.

These thoughts crossed my mind as I took the trash out and pulled our large trash can (rubbish bin for you Brits out there) to the kerb (curb for you Yanks out there).

Even though it was about 8:30 pm, it was still in the 90s and if it were any more humid there would be fish swimming by. The odor eminating through the closed lid of the bin was repulsive. The trash already in there has had a chance to ferment in the heat today.

Some poor soul will have to march up and down the streets through the infernal heat, dragging these malodorous barrels of refuse to empty them into a large truck. I imagine that one must become imune to the smell, but the combination of the heat, humidity, and fermenting waste...

I will refrain from complaining for a while in honor of those who will toil to keep our abodes free of trash...

...just a little while, though.

Hot in the City

Hot in the City

I am driving down to NY tomorrow.

I am picking up the keys to our new apartment and inspecting it. I hope to also meet our new super - one thing I know already is that a key to happy living in NY is being on good terms with your building's super.

I was also thinking of taking a few things down with me but there is one major issue. Tomorrow it is supposed to be extremely

I don't think I want to be schlepping things when it is supposed to be over 100 degrees.

Somehow it seems like I end up in NY on the hottest days of the year. Why?

On Thursday morning I will head out to the new workplace to do some required paperwork and then back up to Boston.

Obstructed View

Remember a while back I mentioned that I took my students to observe gender roles and interaction at a minor league baseball game? This was my view of the field.



I am not sure why I am posting this. Maybe so that I don't have to think about packing and moving.

By the way, does anyone want to buy a car? I'll give you a good deal.

Summer in Boston: Harvard University

Yikes!

Yikes!

As I go along with my mundane life, every now and then it hits me: We have to move.

Not only that, we have to move in the next couple of weeks.


I hate moving. It is one of the few things that can reach deep inside my psyche and yank out tortuous feelings of anxiety. I am not sure why, I have moved so many times. It should be quite routine by now, but it is not.

I alternate from trying to organize and throw away things to avoiding the whole issue and procrastinating. I am not sure how it is all going to get done. We have too much stuff: too many books, too many papers, too many clothes, too much food, too many little souvenirs, too many dog toys, and so on. There are so many little details to tend to as well. And yes, we have to do the things we are supposed to be doing as well. Sara has a course to take (an intense three week summer thing) and I need to plan my classes for the fall and submit proposals for those I want to teach in the spring.

Yes, boys and girls, get ready for some pretty heavy duty complaining over the next couple of weeks. So I imagine there will be little traffic through here ... I don't blame you. You should enjoy your summer.

Parking Tickets

More Culture Shock

As we prepare our move to the metropolis that is New York City, I am faced with some new cultural rules that I need to learn and adapt to. These would be all the parking rules in the city, both de jure and de facto (I love throwing in my brief legal training vocabulary around).

I will have to park our car on the street, but there is a sidestreet along our building that seems to have a lot of parking. The problem will be making sure that I move the car because they have "street sweeping" on alternate sides for an hour and half. So Monday and Thursday one side has no parking from 9-10:30 and Tuesday and Friday the other side has no parking at the same times. Not that they actually sweep the streets, rather it gives the city an opportunity to dole out expensive parking tickets.



We actually got one when we went into the office to officially apply for the apartment. This was in the Upper West Side, which is infamous for its lack of available parking. We parked at 10:40 in a spot that prohibitted parking for street cleaning from 11 to 12:30. There were a ton of cars parked on the same side of the street, so we thought that it really was not enforced and we hoped to be done by 11 anyway. We actually finished about 11:10. When we got out, most of the cars were gone and we had already gotten a ticket: $65 (plus a $2 "convinience fee" to pay online). Most of the cars that had been parked on our side, we then noticed, were just double parked on the other side of the street sans tickets. So in New York it seem like you can double park, but not park by the kerb during "street sweeping".

It's a new culture we are moving into and we need to figure out the new rules. Ah, culture shock!

More on Gender

More on Gender

I wanted to share a few more observations on gender from the observation exercise I did with my class. While at the mall, I was sitting at the food court so that the students could find me if they had a question or concern. During this time I did my own observations.

I watched a woman who must have been in her 50s or 60s walk past three or four times. She had a tight white tube-top, a tight white skirt and white five-inch heels. Her hair was long, bleached, and frayed from the excessive damage of the multiple treatments. The most striking feature, however, was her skin. It was a mix between a bright copper and a dirt brown and was excessively leathery. It was this way all over her body, which there was mostly visible (see the clothing description above). Of course her face was made up with a bright and grotesque combination of flamboyant makeup.

I was not the only one who noticed her. The young adolescent girls at the table next to me watched her with amazement as she strutted by, whispering comments to each other. The college-aged guys behind me took a break from devouring their fast-food lunch to look in disbelief.

The question that ran through my mind was just, why?

The image of this woman was still fresh in my head when on the way back to campus I was presented with an alternative image. My students and I were waiting for the bus when an old woman who was no more than 4'8" walked up to one the students. She must have been in her 70s and was dressed all in black, including a head scarf. She also wore a large religious object as a pendant. She looked a lot like this woman:

It bears mentioning that it was a hot summer day and we were standing in the sun. The student was startled by the question and realized that she did not understand the woman. The woman was speaking Portuguese and wanted to know if someone could let her know when the bus to Fox Point was arriving (Fox Point is the Portuguese neighborhood in Providence, RI). I stepped in and in my rudimentary Portuguese let the woman know that I would inform her since we were going in that direction as well.

I found these two extremes amazing and fascinating: the extent that society and our communities dictate how women (and men, but that is a discussion for a different time) should present themselves. I asked myself which of the two women was more "liberated". I guess the broader point is that these two women with radically gender norms can co-exist in the same social system. They can choose how to present themselves.

Or can they?

I began to wonder about this as the class discussion on gender evolved in my class. Being a class of adolescent girls, it became very clear how much pressure they were under to look, act, and even think in particular ways. Which brings me to my final observation...

Now you may think that anthropologist should be more or less imune to culture shock, especially in their own culture. The experience we had recently in New Jersey proved that this is not the case.

The motel we stayed at was on what would be called a freeway, but it has strip malls, stores, and restaurants right off the side of them. Getting off and back on the "freeway" is ticky if you want to stop along the way. Moreover, if you want to go to something on the other side, you need to drive to the next overpass, go over and double back. This is a pain if you don't know the area and you either go to far or turn back too early (which as you may have guessed I happened to do more than once). But I digress.

The point is we were at this motel and getting anywhere was quite an endeavor that required some skillful driving, quick acceleration, and a good attention span. When it came time for dinner, we did not have the energy to engage in the driving trek (mind you this was when it was also bruttally hot in the area). The one eatery that was next to the hotel was:


Neither Sara or I had ever been to one and we were not quite convinced that we wanted to give our patronage to such a place. But given our lack of energy and the seductive aromas of fried food we went for it.

And we experience culture shock. We felt out of place and somewhat stunned. I was not sure where to look, for if my gaze fell upon one of the servers feelings of guilt and ... ickiness... fell upon me. Even though we were still in the same country, these were cultural circles that we do not frequent. It seemed odd to see families there with their children. The cognitive disonance was just deafening.

With time, the shock wore off yet I never felt at ease. I did begin to observe more and note the extreme gender posturing that was taking place. Males began to pose more, presenting their hypermasculinity. There were groups of women that at first I could not understand why they were there, but the pheromones that were flying clued me in. The most amusing observation involved two males in their thirties who were probably regulars. They were sitting at a high table with bar stools and some of the servers would stop by and chat/flirt with them as they came and went. While the servers were standing there, I could clearly see one of the males eyes. They bounced up and down, from looking at her face to looking at her...well, you know the name of the place. When the server would be talking to the other male, the eyes would remain in the down position for a longer period of time.

The question again was why. Why would any woman want to work in such a place? Yet the attention, the validation, and probably the tips all make convincing reasons, especially when I think about the insecurities and pressures I have seen in so many of may female students.

Do we live in a society were women are or can be liberated and equals? Yes and no would be my answer. Of course, I am a male and my perspective is colored by my gender and the construction of my personal gender identity (which is again a topic for another time - but very screwed up in itself. Can you say machismo and reactionism?).

I am not sure why I wanted to write about this. The Hooters story is funny, but it also seems to fit into broader observations I have made more recently. It probably doesn't matter that much to anyone else.

Fashion Cluelessness

For my summer course, I had the students do an observation exercise on gender at the mall.

In their reports some of them wrote:

At the mall wife beaters were common among the men we observed.

Due to my complete lack of fashion knowledge, I was trying to figure out how they knew that the men were beating on their wives. Were their wives bruised? Did they witness violence?

Of course, what they meant was that the men were wearing something like this:


In my day, such garments would be called tank tops or large undershirts (Sara calls them armpit shirts and forbids me from wearing them - perhaps because subconsciously she fears for her well-being). It is fascinating how stereotyping has led to the new name for such clothing and how it is perfectly acceptable to use the term "wife beater" so casually. None of my students picked up on this even though it fit in so well with the issues of gender we were covering.

The consequences of my not knowing this term spread to our household. As a joke, I began calling the fingerless gloves that Sara was knitting "husband beaters". And somehow the term stuck. I better watch out this winter... and I guess I should brush up on my fashion terminology.

Sidebar Shuffle

I did some house cleaning in the sidebar.

I have reset the job counter. I will be applying for jobs again. This time with a little less urgency because there is a good chance that I will be able to stay for a second year at the place I just got hired. Nonetheless, if I can land a permanent position in a place that Sara and I want to live...I will be movin' there. So it is time to clear out the bad vibes from the past year and start with a fresh new page of pessimism.

I need to change my poll question. However, before I do, I must note that this question has by far gotten the highest response. It must be something about combining the topic of sex and annonymity. Maybe I will continue to ask inappropriate questions.

I added a music chart so you can now see my strange and eclectic tastes in music.

I needed to trim back my blogroll. If you used to be up there and you have disappeared, but wish to remain linked, let me know and I will happily put you back up.

That's about it. It's sad, the world is falling apart and all I can seem to write about is my stupid sidebar. It is probably a more cheerful topic, though.

Random note: I know when Sara has had a little too much wine. She tends to wobble and her teeth are purple (noticeable because she tends to grin and giggle much more than usual).

New York Bound



Our trip was successful, but we paid the price in many ways. It is not wise to look for apartments on one of the hottest days of the year, but we had little choice. With only two days and scheduled appointments we toughed it out and we were rewarded.

I hate apartment hunting - it is one of the things that stresses me out the most. Moreover, I really don't care for those who work in the real estate business - just too many bad experiences. Unfortunately in NY you really need to work with a realtor because landlords rarely rent directly to tenants. There are good things and bad things about this.

The good:

• The realtor sorts through all the listings and shows you only the places that fit your criteria: location, price range, accept dogs, size, etc.
• You can see a lot of places in a short period of time.
• The realtor can somewhat tell you about the neighborhoods, transportation, etc.

The bad:

• Some realtors can be pretty slimy and unpleasant.
• You pay! The realtor charges 15% of a year's rent! It really hurts to pay that much, but there are few other choices in NY. We also did not have much time to look and to try to beat the system.

Before we left on Sunday, I had set up a meeting with one realtor on Monday afternoon, one on Tuesday morning, and one on Tuesday afternoon. On Monday morning we had to go to Sara's work because she had to fill out some paperwork. Then in the afternoon we looked at four different apartments. The realtor turned out to be this young Euro-Mutt gay guy. He was fairly nice and kind of funny.

As I already mentioned Monday turned out to be so incredibly hot and humid! It was about 105 degrees out on the asphalt of the city and it felt worse than the thermometer indicated. I thought either Sara or me (or the realtor) was going to get a heat-stroke. By the time we saw the second apartment we were drenched in sweat. We also had a problem in that Sara liked the first apartment better and I liked the second one. That got resolved when we saw the third, which we both liked. The fourth we did not like that much even though it was about four blocks from where Sara will be working (and it had an extra 1/2 bathroom).

That evening we decided that we liked the third apartment we saw and that we did not want to run around the city the next day when the weather was going to be even hotter (actually, it was Sara's idea and she convinced me - it is good to listen to your wife). We cancelled our appointments for Tuesday and put in an application for the apartment. After a few hours, the realtor called us and told us we were pre-appoved and that the approval was just a formality. As we drove back to Boston yesterday we got the call that we were formally approved. It was whirlwind, but a productive couple of days.

The apartment is nice and the building is wedged between two big parks which will be nice for the dogs. It is fairly big - three bedrooms. We were actually looking at two bedrooms, but this one was the same rent as some of the smaller ones. The building is well-maintained and the lobby is beautiful - art deco. We are a couple of blocks from the subway, which Sara will ride to work (three stops). The street that the building is on runs right into the parkway that I will take to get to work. The street that the building is on runs right into the parkway that I will take to get to work. I could not ask for a more convenient place from which to start my commute to NJ.

So that's the summary of our past couple of days. I have a few more observations about NY and NJ, but I will get to those later.

I was pondering though how recent events have conditioned my outlook that when things actually work out the prevalent feeling is one of relief rather than joy or enthusiasm. I need to work on that. We have a new home waiting for us in New York, a nice home in an interesting neighborhood and a dynamic city. Wohoo!!!

Wanted

Wanted



Looking for a spacious, clean, dog-friendly, 2 bedroom apartment in Northern Manhattan. Close to parks a plus.

The summer course is over.

Now the task at hand is finding a new home in New York. From one draining activitity to another. No rest for the wicked.

Sara and I are driving down tomorrow to start the search in ernest. If we are fortunate, two intense days will be all we need to find the perfect space for our new nest.

I have been looking for somewhere to park my tired mind for a few hours, but there seems to be little refuge. Most bloggers seem to have gone on hiatus, they are being slowed down by the summer heat, or they are off on some lovely vacation. The news is no longer a safe place to procrastinate. The fun of the World Cup is over, now all the images flooding the cyberwaves are of violence and fighting. Television is even worse - the same "news" and the pettiness of "reality" shows.

So I faced with either dealing with the upcoming tasks or curling up into a ball and sleeping (and the dogs do this so well that when I do it I feel inadecuate).

Where have I been?



I am tired.
My day consists of:

• Get up.
• Drive 45 miles
• Teach
• Drive 45 miles
• Grade
• Prep class for the next day
• Sleep

Ok, there are other things that go on. But most of them involve dealing with the upcoming move, organizing the classes I am teaching in the fall, packing up and moving boxes, and so forth.

Hence my silence. No witty observations, no commentary on society, not even the occasional rant or complaint. I guess I am complaining in a way now.

Some good things:

• It is nice having Sara around again
• We haven't had one of those creepy bugs for a couple of days
• I got a fun CD that has brought a hint of smile to my face.
• I have avoided refering to anyone as youze, y'all, or youts.

Stress abounds, however. The list of things that need to get done before we move expands exponentially.

Well, I think I am ready to take on the last bullet point in my day's itinerary.

More Irony

• Finally a summer day that is warm and dry, perfect to have the windows open and what happens? The neighbor is having her house painted and we have to keep the windows closed to keep the noxious fumes out.
• Another ironic bumper sticker combination that illustrates stupidity: on the same bumper - an image of Buddha in the lotus position and a small image of Che Guevara.
• A water park near Boston is called Water Wiz. I guess there is some truth in advertising.
• I just found out that I failed my test for a poetic license. Damn!
  

What's Happening to me?

What is Happening to Me?

I don't know if it is because I have spent too much time in Italy or I need to get away from the Northeast or it is just the consequence of the hot and humid weather...

...but today I refered to a group of my students as "Youze three..."

Where the hell did that come from?

Yes, I do believe I blushed.

Irony

Irony is Lost on the Feeble-Minded

Driving home today from Providence I pulled up behind a car at a stoplight that reminded me how stupid some people are. The car was a large American gas-guzzling cars from the 1980s with an old pinkish paint job and lots of rust stains.

Across the back were several ribbon magnets, some in yellow and some with the American flag. Some implored to "Support Our Troops!" while others requested "God Bless America!"

Contrasting this proud patriotism was a Confederate flag taped to the inside of the back windshield.

Hmmm...

Oh, and the model of the car? A Lincoln Towncar.

'nuff said...

Mexican Elections

Presidential Election in Mexico

It looks like the elections in Mexico are a tie between the conservative, Catholic, open-market candidate Felipe Calderón (the National Action Party - PAN) and the populist and social activist candidate Manuel López Obrador (the Revolutionary Democratic Party -PRD).

I wonder if they now settle who wins through penalty kicks.
.

For Scott

For Scott

Since Scott requested a picture of the hairy-legged centipede, I am pleased to indulge him:



I did not take the picture because usually the buggers do not like to pose and run away. In addition my concern is usually getting the critter out of my abode - dead or alive (I hate quoting Bush). In reading about the aforementioned insect, I learned that they can bite and have venom, but that usually they can't break human skin. I also learned that in general they hunt other insects and spiders, so having them around might not be so bad. I still find them creepy and I don't want them in my living space. Heaven forbid I wake up with one doing the Mexican Hat Dance on my face. [SHUDDER]

I also found out that they have these bugs in Japan, but they are not as creepy there. See for yourself:


In fact, it looks like it has partaken of little too much sake.

Quick Bits

• I am emerging from my catatonia - slowly.
• Today they are electing a new president in Mexico. I wanted to vote, but the bureaucracy said no. I am not sure who I would have voted for, though.
• We now have Lone Star ticks in New England. Things from Texas should stay in Texas - it is not like there isn't enough room there.
• No, the song Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day is not about a landscaper in LA.
• Gross sighting of the day: the guy in the SUV behind me at a stop light leaning out of his window and either popping a pimple or plucking a lone hair from the top of his balding head by looking in his side mirror. I am not sure what he was doing and why he could not use the array of mirrors inside his vehicle.
• People are too damn lazy - they can't walk a few more steps from a parking spot that is a few yards further away from the strip mall stores. They either have to park in the road blocking the parking lot traffic or fight for the closest space.
• In the shoe store - parent yelling at kid. In the pet supply store - owner yelling at dog. "Behave! Listen to me! Stay, no stay there. Okay, if you are going to do that we need to go!" Honest to goodness - verbatim or pretty close.
• Bugs - as long as they leave me alone, I am fairly indifferent towards them. Except for the psycho, hairy-legged, centipede-like bugs they have here in New England. They will charge you and when you try to stomp on them they can jump straight up in the air. A friend who is into bugs says they are harmless, but they still creep the hell out of me. And this year they seem to be trying to move into our apartment.
• Why are the shows you want to watch on when you can't watch them and the crappy shows on when you need something to get your mind off of things?
• Does getting your coffee ground for a flat paper filter really that different from getting it ground for a cone paper filter so as to force the coffee-house employee to go back a grind some more coffee when he did not get your order right? If you are that picky you should be a). grinding your own coffee, and b). not buying decaf!
• I am taking my class tomorrow to a minor league baseball game to do a participant observation exercise. We are focusing on gendered behavior. It should be interesting.
• Sara's dad was released from the hospital today. I think it was quicker than they expected. He seems to be recovering quickly. He does have a lot of rules (do's and don't's) he needs to follow and his life is going to be rather restricted for the following two months. Being home is so much better than being in the hospital - I speak from experience.
• Thanks again to all the good thoughts, prayers, energies, etc. You never know which had a positive influence on the whole thing.
  
• I wonder whether I dream in bullet-points...
  

This Week Kicked my Butt



This week has left me in a catatonic state. This morning I slept until 10:30, something I never do. I am usually up and about by 8:30 or 9:00 at the latest. This is partly because the dogs will not let me sleep any longer.

Today I tried to recover, but I have been plagued by an anxiety that something somewhere needs to get done. I do have a lot of things to do, a lot of planning for the move, the courses in the fall, packing, etc. But none of those needed to get done today. Yet there I was unable to let it all go on the one hand and listless and unable to get anything done on the other.

I watched the soccer games today, but I lacked any of the enthusiasm and passion I usually have.

Might I be teetering on the edge of depression? Perhaps. All the punches my psyche has taken over the week do take their toll. My emotions and thoughts have not gotten the better of me recently, but there are still dark corners in my mind that are ready to envelop my head when the time is right.

In other news, Sara's father is improving. He is awake and getting out of bed occasionally. There have been a few little set backs, but those are to be expected. The most telling sign, however, is that he is determined to heal and improve. That is probably one of the biggest battles. So often we give in to resignation, especially after an experience like that.

I keep expecting a time to come when life gets easier - even just a little bit. I know it's not coming, but gosh, wouldn't it be nice if it did?

Quick Notes

• No news from Sara today. I know her father was going to be in the ICU for a couple of days, so there probably isn't much to tell. I am hoping that no news is good news in this case.
• Sara is probably still recovering from the stress of sitting in a waiting room for over fourteen hours. I could sense the toll it was taking on her each time we spoke on the phone.
• Amidst all this I need to deal with some petty administrator in the summer program I am teaching at who is giving me a lot of grief over a relatively minor issue. It has really pissed me off (I generally don't use that word, so when I do - look out). Moreover she has been quite nasty about it, calling me negligent. I take my work seriously and I value what I do. Being called negligent is not something I take lightly. Nonetheless, I have remained polite and diplomatic, and have even apologized for any miscommunication. I don't know if that will be enough, it seems like this person is on a major power trip. Fortunately I have a fairly outspoken faculty member in the anthropology department on my side and as of day-after-tomorrow my former advisor will be the Provost of the University (who with a wave of his hand could have this person's ass). Yes, I do have friends in high places if it ultimately comes to that.
  
• This has been one hell of a week. I need a day to just crawl into a hole and hide. Of course, if I did the dogs would track me down and dig me out. They are good dogs. They would want to rescue me. Actually they have sensed my stress, anxiety, and irritation and they have been incredibly supportive - in their unique doggy way.
• I think tomorrow evening me and the big bottle of Chimay that is currently chilling in the fridge are going to get well acquainted.
  
• Ughh - that's all I have to say for now.
  

Update

I just got a call from Sara. Her father's surgery is over and the surgeon said it went well.

It has been a very stressful day for all of us. The surgery was supposed to take three hours, but it kept going on and on. After about eight hours Sara and I were beginning to get worried - although we did not talk about it.

Twelve hours later, the surgeon let Sara and her step-mother know that it was over. It turned out to be a difficult tumor to remove and the surgeon had to be very careful. I am very thankful that the surgeon was careful and prudent and did take his time.

But I do admit - the waiting and not knowing sucks.

If you had Sara and her family in your thoughts today, please receive our hearfelt thanks.

Thoughts

Thoughts, Prayer, Energies for Sara and her Family



Today is Sara's fathers surgery. Any positive thoughts, prayers, rituals, energies, or spiritual support is much appreciated.

Peace.

Underdog

If You Often Cheer for the Underdog...



...you will frequently be disappointed.

That is the lesson for today.

It is evident from the World Cup results. Ghana? Gone. Ecuador? Out. Australia? Hoodwinked (by whom you may ask...our aforementioned Italian friends and some help from the refree).

It also seems like that is the case everywhere else.

Just as I seem to start to get things in order, something else pops up to complicate things.

Today, the remaining half of our landlords (the woman) knocks on our door. As I mentioned in the past, the house we live in (a two unit building) is up for sale and we have been dreading the visits by realtors and prospective buyers. We were comforted by the fact that the real estate market is slow, the asking price was high, and the timetable for our departure all worked in our favor.

Today's news changed that. It turns out that there is a change in plan. The realtor talked our landlord into turning our part of the house into a condo. This is bad news for us because:

1. The condo market is much better
2. The asking price will be very reasonable
3. Now there will be more people trudging through our apartment

Moreover our place is a mess. We are not the neatest people, we have too much stuff (including many, many books), and we are in the first stages of packing to move. This is not a good time to be having people walk through. Our landlord was hinting that maybe we could put some of our stuff into storage to make the place more presentable. Zeus also poses a problem because he is not fond of unknown visitors either.

All this right when I started having to work everyday at a place that has about an hour commute each way and evenings of prep time. In addition Sara is gone (which in someways is better because she already has enough to worry about right now).

So I am tired, stressed, a wee-bit overwhelmed, cranky, and I still have to finish my lesson plans for tomorrow. And it is still much too humid!

It is so damn humid here! Everything is damp and soggy. I printed out my lecture notes for tomorrow and even the paper feels soggy.

Class went ok today. First days are always tricky because students are not really in a learning mindframe and I don't have sense of what the students are like.

It is harder when the weather is like it is. I can see my students wilting as the day progresses.
It doesn't help that it is a long class and that the climate control in the classroom leaves a lot to be desired. It either works TOO well and the students are freezing (and they can't hear me) or it makes things terribly stuffy.

Sara left today and got stuck for a couple of hours at the Baltimore airport. She should be getting into Albuquerque as we speak. Well, we are not really speaking, are we? So maybe I should write that she should be arriving right about the same time as I type these words.

Things are quiet around here without her. Well, sort of. The dogs need extra attention whenever one of us goes out of town. Moreover they are not used to being home all day on their own. Needless to say getting my lecture planned out for tomorrow was bit more challenging with many-a-canine distraction around.

Yes, I am tired and a little more loopy that usual. So be it...

Boring Xolo

Boring Xolo

• You know how Greenland is not really green? Well Sara is not really boring. I, however, am boring.
• It has been very damp around here. Lot of rain and very humid air. Fortunately it has not been too hot. Still I move and I am suddenly very sticky and ambushed by perspiration.
• Sara is leaving for NM to be there for her father's surgery. I wish I go with her. She will definitely need some TLC. She'll get it when she gets back.
• At least it won't be raining in NM, though.
• Back to teaching on Monday. I don't mind teaching again. The fact that the class is in Providence (about 45 miles from here) is what I do mind. Moreover it meets every day from 10 to noon, and two or three days a week from 1 to 3. The course is three weeks long. I will probably drive on the days I need to be there in the afternoons and take the train on the other days.
• The canker sore is slowly de-swelling (I can't think of how to say that with words that exist), in case you were curious. I have managed not to bite my lip today.
• I watched the Mexico game today (Sara made me). It was much closer than I (and almost everyone else, including the Argentinians) thought it would be. Mexico played an amazing game - I am both proud and disappointed.
• I need to figure out who to cheer for now that both Mexico and the US are out.
• I will probably cheer for Argentina against Germany when they play each other in the next round. Funny - in the 1986 final I cheered for Germany when they played Argentina. Things change. I have changed.
• I will also probably cheer for teams that have never won it before. Spread the joy around.
• There are so many of you out there going through difficult times, specific crisises, etc. My thoughts are with you all.
• Few of you gave me your recommendations for restaurants. I am still waiting. What are the hidden gems that should be recognized and visited?

My Current Bane

My Current Bane



Several days ago I got a canker sore on the inside of my bottom lip. It probably came as a result of biting myself ever so slightly - I have a tendency to bite myself. I did not notice this bite, but the canker sore grew and became swollen. This in turn has led me to bite my lip again, which makes the area swell up even more. And so on and so on...

Ughhh.

Canker sores are just pure evil. They can sure ruin your day.

Happy Birthday Sara

Happy Birthday, Sara!




Go wish Sara a great birthday and make her feel better about being 32.

For Lux

The director who would film my life would be:

Ingmar Bergman
Your film will be 63% romantic, 28% comedy, 51% complex plot, and a $ 47 million budget.

Your life will be portrayed on film as an intense psychological drama, likely with some actresses screaming at the camera (Persona), or maybe a pleasant chess game between the Grim Reaper and a Crusader (The Seventh Seal). This Swedish director's films are intensely scrutinzed and studied in colleges all over the world to this day. This means that most Americans still don't understand his films! Still alive, he released in the U.S. in 2005 his first film in 23 years (Saraband), and he can still take on one more project to make your film biography. If curious, start with his films Wild Strawberries and Smiles of a Summer Night.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: You scored higher than 84% on action-romance You scored higher than 27% on humor You scored higher than 85% on complexity You scored higher than 82% on budget

Link: The Director Who Films Your Life Test written by bingomosquito on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

I am not surprised. However, I would have thought my humor score to be higher - they probably don't count cynicism as humor.

Good Eating

Good Eating - A Communal Project

Today Heliosphan posted that Restaurant Magazine had a list of the world's top 50 best restaurants. I commented that the list seemed to be all extremely fine dining places (that most of us cannot afford) and heavily biased towards French cuisine. I don't have a problem with the French art of cooking, but there are so many other wonderful flavors in this world.

I suggested that we should come up with our own list - one that reflects the fact that some of the best food isn't found in snooty establishments, rather in homey and hidden corners.

So I am asking you to send me your nominations for the best places either leave me a comment or email me (xoloitzquintle[at]hotmail[dot]com). Please include:

• The name of the establishment (more or less)
• Location (as specific as you can)
  
• Anything specific to have there or the general type of food

Once we have some places, I will post them in my sidebar.

Ok, I am waiting.

Per Sara's Request



Sara liked this picture of Zephyr from yesterday's excursion better than the one I posted. I think is that she secretly wants to show off her elbow. You decide. 

Excursion

High Above Massachusetts


As mentioned before, our landlord requested that we take the dogs somewhere while they had their open house today. Sara was going to go off on her own to a knitting group, but she ended up coming with us.

I wasn't sure where I was going to take the dogs, but I realized that it would have to be more of a ride. The day today was hot and humid, so they would not be able to hike too much. We decided to go to Wachusett Mountain, which is about an hour and a half drive from Boston. It isn't the highest point in Massachusetts, but it lies in the middle and you can see the Berkshires to the west and the Boston skyline to the east. That is, you can see them on a clear day. Today it was rather hazy. The top is quite higher than the hills around it so the view was still nice. It is not Mt. Washington (which we visited last year sans dogs), though.


At the top we walked around and hung out by a calm pond. It was nice except for an abundance of flies that simultaneously annoyed Zeus and provided him some entertainment (he tried to catch them).


It was a nice family excursion. I hope to have more of those this summer.

Italians Play Dirty

Italians Play Dirty

I learned this playing pickup futbol games in the parks of Bologna. Italians like to play dirty. It is reinforced every time I watch Italy play, especially against teams they expect to be beat (which is most).

Today's game against the US was no exception. Here is what happened:

US player gets whacked (sorry, I just realized that could be an offensive pun to Italo-Americans, it wasn't intended so I will leave it) in the face by an Italian player's elbow.


The Italian player pretends that he did not do anything and tries to argue his innocence. He gets his teamates to help him by mobbing the ref (oops, another pun).


The evidence against him, however, was to blatant for the refree to ignore.


The red card came out and the Italian player was ejected. The ref compensated and helped the Italians by later ejecting TWO US players. Nevertheless, the US tied Italy notwithstanding biased refs and dirty play.

I am sure in Italy right now everyone is complaining about how they were robbed of a victory, about how the US is an inferior team, and who might be to blame for Italy not winning the game.

On a brighter note, I did enjoy watching the Portugal-Iran game earlier in the day. I will miss the Brazil game tomorrow because I need to take the dogs somewhere. Our landlords are having an open house and even though they are not showing our apartment, they are worried that Zeus' barking at comers and goers will scare away potential buyers. I am not sure what we will do, but even though it won't be watching Brazil play a gutsy Australian team, I am sure it will be fun.

Lazy

Friday Randomness

I have been feeling rather lazy.

For dinner I did make some crab enchiladas. I did not have a recipe - just played it by ear. They turned out fairly well. I used a tomatillo sauce with several different peppers in it.

I had leftover crab filling, so I added some breadcrumbs, lime, chiles, diced cellery, and egg to make some "Baja-style" crab cakes. We will have those for lunch tomorrow, I guess. The enchiladas were enough for one meal.

I also put in the a/c units into the windows. It is supposed to get rather warm and sticky here this weekend. I usually wait until it gets to that point to install them and I end up in a pool of sweat while trying to do the task. Not this year. Hehe.

We bought some little basil plants a while back and they have been patiently waiting to be trasplanted into a real planter. Today I actually transfered them over. "It's about time!" they cried.

No, I usually do not talk to plants or trees or other forms of vegetation. The dogs is another matter. Zeus looks at me as though he really can follow my words. Zephyr stares at me as though I am nuts for trying to talk to a dog. Of course, she always has that look.

As I mentioned before, our landlords/upstairs neighbors split up. This means that they have to put the two unit house we live in for sale. The sign went up today. Sara and I find this very stressful. We are going to have to deal with realtors and others trodding through the place.

Mexico played an awful game today. Kudos to Angola for their spirit.

That was a bit of my exciting life...hope you enjoyed.

In da money...

$$ In Da Money $$

Oh the surprises the mail brings. Yesterday it was a rejection letter from someone I know. Today it was my first royalties check.

Royalties? Even I did not know they were due to me.

Apparently I get them from people who have purchased copies of my dissertation.
Ten people, who are not related to me and owe me no favors have spent money to read what I wrote in a frenzy to get out of graduate school. Ten people!

Who would have thunk it?

My reward?

$10.19!

Now I need to figure out how to spend it....

Rejection

Friendly Rejection?

Today I got a rejection letter signed by someone I know. We were in graduate school together and friends at the time - she finished a few years before I did. It was a bit bizarre getting the letter.

It was the standard old form letter they send out to everyone. No personal note or mention - just her signature.

To be fair to her, she did send me an email a few weeks back letting me know that I probably wasn't going to get the position.

I wonder if she actually signed the letter or whether she just had a stack of them and signed them without seeing to whom they were addressed.

It all doesn't matter because, as I said before, I have a job! [smile]

Tid Bits

Tid Bits

• I accepted the job offer I received last week today.
• The US started off their World Cup in the worst possible manner - there was both bad play and bad luck.
• It is good to see the sun again. It has rained so much over the past month and half here.
• I got the part I needed for the Daewoo, had it installed, and it passed inspection. The cost of the brake pads? $45 each! Far less than the scam artists at North Smithfield Nissan in Rhode Island - they wanted $225 each!
• Sara has an obsession with yarn and wool - it has been a healthy way of coping with the stress of the past weeks, though. And she got to go to a sheep farm in Vermont last Saturday.
• I feel bad for our upstairs neighbors. Divorce sucks. And their two dogs are going to get split up.
• I am not looking forward to moving. Moving sucks.
• But I have a job, yay!
  

Mexico, Mexico, Ra, Ra, Ra!

Mexico, Mexico, Ra, Ra, Ra!

As I admitted to before, I am an avid watcher of futbol when the World Cup rolls around. It is almost an adiction and I am drawn to watch as many games as possible. You never know which game is going to be a good one.

For example, I was only marginally interested in the Sweden-Trinidad and Tobago (you can't forget the Tobago, as Sara has pointed out to me) game. I did spend time in Sweden and I had a crazy calypso friend once, but the game was not one that was on my radar screen. Sweden is a good technical team, but in general kind of boring to watch. T&T is new to the World Cup, the smallest country, and longest shot to win. I had it on as I was doing some house chores and it drew me in. I also tend not to like games without goals, but this was the exception. I was fascinated by the courage and mettle of the Trinidadians and Tobagans on the one hand and the growing desperation of the Swedes. For the T&Tians the tie was the greatest victory and for the Swedes it was a major defeat.

Today Mexico played. When I lived in Mexico, I had mixed feelings about when Mexico played. They tended not to be good and my father would get mad and yell at the tv. In some ways I found it entertaining, but his foul moods were not pleasant. Away from home, with the children in my neighborhood, we would cheer for Mexico, but then we would have our backup favorite(s). Some of these were Italy, England, Argentina, and Germany. There was a weird kid who liked Poland. My back up was Brazil. I was born in 1970, shortly after Brazil won the World Cup in Mexico. It was their third win and got to keep the original World Cup. When the tournament was started in 1930, they had set up the rule that the first country to win the tournament three times would get to keep the Cup. But I digress - the point is that the win by Brazil in 1970 was a big deal, it had been in Mexico, and for that reason I had an affinity towards it.

Fast forward to 1986, when Mexico hosted the Cup for the second time. I was ambivalent about Mexico at that time. Their star player, Hugo Sanchez, was someone I did not like. My relationship with my father had deteriorated that I actually enjoyed watching him get upset. At the same time, I still hoped that my home country would do well. I still liked Brazil and they had a great team that year. But I had also gained an interest in Germany. Some of my friends at the time were German and I had begun to trace my mother's family to Germany. I was torn when Mexico played Germany in the quarter-finals. It was one game I did not want to watch. Germany won and went on to lose to Argentina in the final.

There has been one other game that tore my allegiances, but I actually did watch that one. It was in the last Cup when Mexico played the US. I pulled for the US a little more in that one. Why? Because I felt like if the US did well, it would spark more interest in futbol in the US. The US did win and I think it did have a positive effect. It has also created a deeper rivalry between the US and Mexico, which can be fun to watch as long as it is good natured (it hasn't always).

So this post has evolved into something I never intended it to be (and it is probably boring everyone out there). My initial purpose was to say that I am enjoying the futbol, however, I seem to be doing it on my own. Futbol has always been a comunal event, where you talk, discuss, and watch the games with friends or even strangers. For the last World Cup, we were in Italy, where even I felt overwhelmed by the coverage and discussion. Sara will watch a game or two with me and listen to the tidbit of trivia I through her way. For the most part she tolerates my interest (read: obsession).

I could search out others who are interested, but the point of futbol in the past was that you did not have to. The interest (read: fever) was all around you. So I will continue to watch here on my own.

So Mexico is off to a good start and the US plays tomorrow. Before things started, I picked The Netherlands to win the whole thing (beating Brazil). After watching them today, I am not so sure.

As to the title of this post, it is part of a cheer for Mexico that I believe started during the 1970 World Cup, but I could be mistaken. I have tried to find the origin and the meaning of the cheer without success. In any case, the whole cheer goes like this:

Chiquitibum a la bim bom ba
a la bio a la bau
a la bim bom ba
Mexico Mexico
Ra Ra Ra!

The cheer is known by almost every Mexican. There was a satirical (and very controversial) film made in the 1970s in Mexico with the title "Mexico, Mexico, Ra, Ra, Ra", which I have looked for, but failed to find. So if anyone knows of about the cheer or the film, let me know.

Ok, that's it.

What Would You Do?

What Would You Do?

Yesterday Sara and I went out for lunch in Newton (a suburban and fairly ritzy area of Boston). Newton has paved over what probably used to be its common (plaza, piazza, central square/park) and turned it to a lovely parking lot so consumers can shop at the nearby Pier One, Starbucks, Coldstone, etc.

When we parked, I noticed as I got out of our car a guy slouched in the driver's seat of the taxi parked next to us. The cab had backed in so he was right next to me. His window was down and although it was not raining, the weather was cool and damp. I looked at Sara, subliminally asking her, "What should we do? This guy does not look good."

As we walked away, we decided that if he was still there after lunch we would deal with it then. For all we knew, he might just be napping.

When we returned, the guy had moved but he was still slumped over his steering wheel and it had begun to rain. His window was still down and he was getting wet. The bit of his face we could see looked ashen.

I decided to go into a nearby bank and see if I could call the police to come check the guy out. The people in the bank were helpful, but the woman at the police station was curt and I had a hard time explaining the situation. She finally said she would send someone, but I had to meet the patrol in the parking lot. Since it was raining, I told Sara she could wait at the Starbucks. No sense both of us getting wet.

After about five minutes, a police officer showed up followed by a fire truck. By then the cab window had gone up, but the guy still was slouched. The officer knocked loudly on the window and the guy popped up, startled.

"Are you ok? How are you feeling?" the officer asked.

"Fine, just getting some rest," was the guy's nervous reply.

"You sure? You want to see a medic?" asked the officer.

"No, no. I was just tired. I needed some rest."

The officer radioed in to cancel the ambulance and told the firefighters everything was fine. I felt silly to have caused so much commotion and I apologized to the officer. He was very understanding and said that it is job to check on these things and that it was good that I had alerted someone.

I went to Starbucks and got Sara. By the time we got back to the car, the cab had left - probably to find a more secluded place to rest.

I probably should have just asked the guy if he was ok. I do know CPR, although it has been a while since I have been certified. Something kept me from doing that - probably not knowing how the guy was going to react if indeed he was just sleeping. He did not look good, though, and he was quite slumped over - not in your normal napping position. I could not just ignore the situation either. I have seen enough videos where people ignore others in need. It would have destroyed my conscience if I had not done anything and then heard on the evening news that a cab driver was found dead in a Newton parking lot where no one stopped to help him.

What would you have done? Have you ever had experiences like that?

Change of Mind

I was going to post, but then Blogger didn't work.

Now I don't feel like it.

Instead I am trying to find the strangest songs on my playlist and make a CD to listen to in my car. I am also pricing tickets for Sara to Albuquerque.

Thanks to all the well wishes, though. More on the job later...

Breaking News

Breaking News

Let's go to Sara for an update...

Details at 11.

Driven to Insanity?

I am back and I am tired.

Driving 400+ miles and having an interview will do that to you - exhaust you, I mean.

The worst part? The last 10 miles home in Boston traffic. Ugghhh.

The interview? I did as well as I could. You never know with these things.

Wait and see - that's the name of this game.

I hate this game.

I think I will go have another beer.

My Chaotic Life




I need to update on the ongoings.

Sara's Dad:
He met with a neurosurgeon and finally called Sara to update her. It was a long wait for us to get more information. In the meantime we spent a lot of time looking at information on brain tumors online. The diagnosis is that he has a meningioma, which if you are going to have a brain tumor is the one to get. They are rarely malignant. He is still is going to need surgery to remove it and great care is needed anytime you go poking around the brain. The surgery is probably going to take place later this month or early next month. Sara will go out to be with him when it does.

Thank you to all who have left comments of support here and over at Sara's and to those of you who didn't but kept us in your thoughts, prayers, chants, etc. We appreciate them.

Job Search:
I have an on-campus job interview on Tuesday. I am driving to New Jersey tomorrow. I applied for the position the day I got back from California and they called me the next day. After I sent them some supplemental information, they called last week to invite me to campus. I have not mentioned it because I don't want to jinx myself. I am feeling rather anxious about the whole thing. I really need this job and if I get it, life gets much simpler for us and our move to New York. I'll be home Tuesday evening.

The travails of owning a discontinued car:
As I have mentioned before, we own a Daewoo car. It is a nice car, but Daewoo went bankrupt a couple of years ago. This means servicing it and getting parts can be a major headache. Last week I took it for its four month bath (spring here leaves massive amounts of gunk and pollen on cars). One of the guys at the carwash pointed out that the safety inspection sticker had expired last August.

Unbeknownst to me, you have to inspect your car every year and there is no reminder. All other places I have had a car, inspection is tied to registration. You cannot renew your registration if it doesn't pass inspection. Fortunately we were never pulled over. I took the car to get inspected and it passed on everything except the parking brake. It needs new pads. The mechanics called around trying to find the pads without success. I told them that there was a Nissan dealership in Rhode Island that used to also sell Daewoos and that I used to take it there.
They called the dealership and found out that the parts could be ordered. It would cost $199, though (pads usually cost about $60 a pair). I thought there was little choice and agreed. In that time, the price went up to $220. I agreed again. Then I hear the mechanic scream (he is a goofy, tall Eastern European fellow). The dealership had asked him which side. So the pads were going to be $440 for the pair!

"They are ripping us off! I refuse to do business with them!" he cried. "Not even the fanciest cars have brake pads that cost more than $200 for a pair." The manager told me that I should try to call around some more and see if could find the pads. So I came home and Sara and I looked online. Lo and behold, we found pads for $45 each.

I have more recently found that you can now order parts through the small front organization Daewoo still has in the US. Good for future reference.

As if this were not enough, we just got a safety recall notice from Daewoo US. It says to take the care to a Daewoo dealer. Problem is that there are none! There are places, like the rip off dealership in Rhode Island, that will still work with them, but I don't trust that place anymore.

I think it is time to get rid of this car. Does anyone out there want to buy a nice station wagon with low miles and good gas mileage?

Unstable Housing:
We live in a two family home. We live on the first floor and our landlords (an older married couple) live on the second and third. The other day as I was leaving the guy stops me and asks me what our plans for the fall are. Sara had already mentioned that we were moving to New York. He then proceeds to tell me that they are putting the house up for sale.

We have an uncanny knack for renting places that get put on the market. Fortunately this time it does not seem to be much of an issue, since we are planning on leaving anyway at the end of the summer. The way the housing market is right now and the time it takes for all transactions to take place, it seems like we will be ok. The only annoyance will be all the realtors and prospective buyers trudging through our place.

It seemed strange, however, that out landlords would sell the place. They bought it only two years ago, just before we moved in. It was also at the peak of the market and they are certainly not going to be able to sell it for the same price they bought it for. Later, when I saw the wife, I asked where they would be moving to, she shared that they were splitting up.

Even though it is a nice house in a nice location, there does seem to be a bad aura to it. Our landlords split up, Sara got kiddney stones here, our job searches were not very successful, Sara's father has had health problems while we were here, we had a break-in attempt, and so on. Maybe these are just parts of life and have nothing to do with the house. Who knows, but in some ways I am glad we are moving.

Anticipation:
That low sounding buzz you hear in the background is my growing anticipation for the World Cup that starts next week. I like soccer, but the World Cup is an obsession. I was fortunate enough to go to several games when it was played in Mexico in 1986. Those were so much fun.

Publishing:
Over the last three weeks, I have had two articles (one co-written with Sara) and a book review published. Getting the proofs and seeing your name under the fancy title is pretty cool. It has energized me to work on a few more articles I am almost ready to send out and to work in earnest on my book.

In Good Company:
I did not realize how many people shared my fascination of glimpsing at snapshots of people's lives through their windows. Nor the passion with which I detest mosquitos. I actually have a catalogue in my mind of the different types of mosquitos I have encountered around the world and their unique way of making your life misarable.

This post has become much too long. So bye.

The Battle Begins



I killed the season's first mosquito inside our apartment today (I got her before she got any of us - it is the female mosquitos that bite - no blood in the squished mess). How do you feel when you squish a mosquito and find a bloody mess? A sense of vengeful fulfillment or great disgust?

I digress. With all the rain and flooding we have had recently it is certainly going to be a long itchy summer.

I am happy that our neighbor (pseudo-mafia man) finally drained his cesspool of a swimming pool (above ground). It had water in it all winter long and was now a wonderful mosquito incubator.

I hate mosquitos - one reason I could not be Buddhist.