Let's boogey to the elf dance!

DID YOU KNOW? In addition to being the best event on American Gladiators, Atlasphere is also the name of a dating site for Ayn Rand fans.

I was hanging out with Alex in Borders this afternoon and they're already all Christmas'd out. I guess I'm down with that. I do like a few Christmas songs and I like joy, and I like sweaters, particularly this black sweater from the 1980's that used to belong to Sam's Mom. I'm wearing it all the time now. On Thanksgiving I paired it with one of my grandfather's old ties and a polo shirt that I picked up at my cousin's boutique in LA. I was pretty much 100% DeAngelis from the waist up.

The only thing I'm sad about is that there were other seasons this year, and somehow I kind of missed them. I think living in the San Francisco Bay Area, where it can be 42 in July and 82 in November has something to do with it, and I think kind of being away from the people with whom I would normally celebrate holidays has something to do with it. So I've kind of been detached, both from weather and also from cultural institutions.

But lately, I have come to the conclusion that all across America, this year really only had two seasons: 1) Election and 2) Christmas.

So please, humor me for a moment and allow me to prolong Thanksgiving for just a few more days by making you listen to Aaron Copland's "The Promise of Living," which I have always adored and now want to have played at my wedding.



My SHIVERS moment is at 2:40 when the tenors sing, "We plant each row with seeds of grain and Providence sends us the sun and the rain" and then a few seconds later the altos come in with, "Give thanks there was sunshine, give thanks there was rain, give thanks we have hands to deliver the grain." It's such an awesome way to put that sentiment--like, yo, I'm happy, I'm lucky, I'm thankful but I have to do some work too, nobody's gonna just drop chocolate cake from the sky onto my face. The music supports it so well. Please listen to that, at least.

Thanks!

A really excellent mother

DID YOU KNOW? Gmail will start a new thread after reaching more than 100 replies to the same message.

I realized recently that I really feel a resonance in San Francisco. It's weird. I always felt like kind of a guest in Boston, even when I knew it well enough to give awesome ten-hour personalized walking tours (start at the Mapparium, end at Pizzeria Regina, so what if it's 92 degrees outside?). But San Francisco, well, Idonno, I just feel like it's home, like it's my life, like it's where I am, it's good, I want to be there. When you get to where you want to be.

Accordingly, as soon as I stepped out of the airport in Harrisburg I realized that I had totally dressed like a Californian's conception of what cold weather is. Threadless t-shirt, 80's sweater and scarf tucked into a Dickies jacket that I picked up at Buffalo Exchange and a hat. With reunion-ready ironic facial hair completing the look, I was total bohemian fashion. I was not, however, ready to brave 37-degree temperatures and threats of impending snow. Seriously, 37 degrees? Is that even a temperature it can be anymore?

Luckily, I was warmed by the infinite hospitality of Sam's Mom. Twenty minutes later I was home and chowing down on a meatball sandwich while we talked about the lady who works at McDonalds and makes the best unsweetened iced tea and only charges her $1 instead of $1.79, and her thoughts on VeggieTales, and Keith Olbermann's reaction to the Turkey vs. Sarah Palin II Turbo video, and well, perhaps those are two things I got from Sam's Mom--a capacity for hospitality and an endless fascination with the small yet important things in life, like the lady who makes iced tea at McDonald's or honey bears or North Dakota State Quarters or the demise of the Wendy's dollar menu.

Sam's Mom should totally start a blog.

Makin' the world a better place to be

DID YOU KNOW? Drummer Bill Berry wrote, but did not play on, the REM song "Everybody Hurts."

I realized that the essay I just wrote was basically plagiarized from a presentation that Matt Maisel and Cindy Amis gave in AP English like six years ago and translated into German. I e-mailed Mrs. O'Brien and informed her of that. Anyway, it's finito, as they say. Sure, I'm in lab at 2:33 AM, but I guess it could be worse.


That was more or less the highlight of my test-grading marathon.

I hope we can sit outside. Lipstick!

DID YOU KNOW? Alanis Morrisette's "You Oughta Know" is about Uncle Joey from Full House.

You probably did know that; I knew that, but for some reason I keep forgetting that. It's like that kid in your class whose name you keep forgetting over and over and over again no matter how many times you meet him. I'm talking about you, Kevin Ng.

Anyway, I am on campus right now because I was trying to work at home but I was just restless, restless like the dreams from which Gregor Samsa awoke one morning to find himself transformed into a monstrous insect (sorry for the extended metaphor, but "start/finish essay on The Metamorphosis" is on my to-do list for tonight). So I came to campus. While I'm here, heck, might as well grade one hundred exams.

On the way, or rather off the way because it's in the exact opposite direction from campus, I stopped at Yasai Market to grab a pound of leeks for the leek/green bean dish I'm making for tomorrow's Thanksgiving choir potluck. With leftover chicken and squash risotto still hanging out in my fridge, I'm hoping I can somehow wangle this opportunity into a solid week and a half of eating Thanksgiving food every single day. God, I think I might have a new favorite holiday.

Anyway, finding myself already walking about Rockridge and in need of some liquid motivation, I decided to head across the street to Cole Coffee to grab a quick beverage with which I could sit outside for a few minutes to read my German-language novel and begin to formulate my essay in my head (can you believe it's taken this long for me to put a "yuppie" tag on my blog entries?). I went inside and the hipster barista was all,

"Can I help you?"

I took off my bike helmet (yuppie ding!), looked over the menu of beans, and said,

"Yeah... I'll have the... [native South American name I can't pronounce] coffee."
"Oh, the beans for that are being changed. Do you want something else?"
"Oh, okay. I'll have the Peru then."
"Cool. It's better, anyway."
"Good to know."
"What size do you want?"
"Small. No, actually, medi-- OH MAN, YOU GUYS ARE PLAYING CAN! THAT'S AWESOME."
"So, medium?"
"I HAVE NEVER HEARD THIS PLAYED IN PUBLIC EVER."
"You know, when I saw you walk in, I saw you, like, a little bit pleasantly surprised, and I was wondering if you were, like, enjoying the music."
"OH MAN!"

Then I spilled my coffee all over the counter trying to get it out of the drip holder.



But seriously, who could fail to be excited hearing a 1972 song from a German progressive jam band played in his neighborhood coffee shop? That's outstanding. God. I love "Vitamin C." I'm surprised they were even playing it in an otherwise-relaxing coffee shop, it's one of those songs that I can't even play at home because everyone I know asks me gently to turn it off, like when I play Björk or Peter Gabriel or "The Great Gig in The Sky."

Anyway, that was the extent of my excitement for today. Now it's time for tasting and judgment--by which I mean burping up Peruvian coffee and grading exams.

Scatterheart

DID YOU KNOW? The Y2K problem did not qualify as an Act of God.

I had a pretty frustrating week, and even Wednesday, when I gave a terribly difficult midterm, left work at 3:30, cleaned the house, and watched Judge Judy did not cheer me up. I did eat dinner on campus three nights last week, so maybe that had something to do with it.

Anyhoo, what did cheer me up was last night's Thanksgiving 1 party with all of my friends and some people that I'd never met before. We had roast chicken, stuffing, cranberry CHUTNEY, homemade PIEROGIES, pumpkin CUPCAKES (everything made by Lauren is in capital letters), kebabs, and tons of other things, oh, and salad, and it was all totally amazing. Then we all sang Happy Birthday to Lauren.



Clockwise, from bottom
Me
Ruth, my roommate
Hung, who I met after sending an e-mail with the subject line "gay"
Adam, his roommate
Mike, who is couchsurfing with us
Jeremy, who brought Chex Mix
Lauren, whose birthday it actually was
Katrina, Lauren's friend that we never met before
Sven, who I met as a prefrosh and who taught me the German rhyme, "Jedes böhnchen macht ein tünchen."
Dan, who I met independently through Moria, Carter, Nghi, and Gustavo

Also in there somewhere is Manoj, who works with Ruth.

Life is kinda strange and I love the internet.

I want to be the very best

DID YOU KNOW? No nation in the Southern Hemisphere had ever won a gold medal at the Winter Olympics until 2002, when Australian Stephen Bradbury won a gold in speed skating.

I was killing time yesterday waiting for an experiment to run and I put together perhaps the greatest chain of linked Wikipedia articles ever assembled. I was initially inspired by a rather morbid blog post showing the last photograph of Princess Diana ever taken. Then, well, I just started clicking while my enzyme started running.

Diana, Princess of Wales
100 Greatest Britons
100 Worst Britons
Anne Robinson
Memoirs of an Unfit Mother
The Weakest Link
The Weakest Link (US Game Show)
Reading Rainbow
Public Broadcasting Service
Anne Robinson
100 Worst Britons
100 Greatest Britons
John Lennon
Paul McCartney
James McCartney
Linda McCartney
Suzy and the Red Stripes
Red Stripe
Jamaica National Bobsled Team
Cool Runnings
1988 Winter Olympics
Tropical Nations at the Winter Olympics
Steven Bradbury
Hover Car Racer

No, seriously.

I went from Princess Diana...


...to HOVER CAR RACER, clearly the greatest piece of adolescent literature ever written.

Anyway, then Colin 2 and I made an outstandingly challenging Chemical Engineering midterm. If you're mad about it, blame the person who did not show up for office hours at 7:30 AM.

Punch line

DID YOU KNOW? Larry King is only 74 years old.

It was on Friday that I was telling Professor Muller, possibly my idol, about the dream I had about her--I was talking and cooking during her final, so she kicked me out of class, even though I tried to blame it on Colin 2. She apologized, but I can't say I can really fault her here. I mean, I was cooking during her final.

The topic of conversation turned to TA-ing and she was like, "Oh, you're TAing introduction to ChemE? The students in that class are so needy. It's hard." We were like, "Yes, they always want extra office hours and things." She said, "Here's my trick when they say they can't come to office hours. I always say, 'Oh, I'd love to help you, but the only time I have available is 7:30 AM tomorrow morning.' They always end up coming to my actual office hours.'"

So yesterday I got this e-mail that said,

Hi Sam and Colin,

I have a problem that I would like to ask you guys. I really would like to attend the office hours on monday or tuesday because we know that PS12 is a beast, but it would be a very good practice for MD3. However I have classes during both of the office hours (I may able to get out early of my lab on tuesday, but I am not sure), so I was wondering if there is something else I could do to get help from you guys. Thanks!

The italics are Problem Set 12, described in my own words. Idonno, like I said, I idolize Professor Muller, so I responded,

Hi there,

We're both pretty busy with lab this week, but if you wanted to stop by before class on Monday, around 7:30 AM, we would be able to go over some of the problems from Problem Set 12 with you. Let us know if you want us to come in!

...because yo, we are busy. I had to teach class this morning, because Radke's out of town, I just set up one of my several experiments for today, and I've got a review session from 7:30-9:00. That's a lot of chemical engineering. So, much to my surprise, one hour later I get an e-mail back that says.

Hi Sam!!

7:30am would be great!! thanks so much!

Dang it. Called my bluff. Seriously. Called my bluff. That is terrible. Oh well. At least I'll get a good teaching evaluation, I figured. Ben pointed out that this holds nothing for my future, either academically or financially, but still, it's fun to have someone say, "I like Sam. He wakes up early for me. That's cool." Like I said, I needed to teach this morning, anyway, so it wasn't that much more of a struggle to haul myself out of bed at 6 AM so I could get to campus by 7:30 and review my notes.

But you already know how this will end: I rolled out of bed. Well, off of couch, actually. I took my shower. I ate my kashi. I got on my bike. I pulled into my lab just around 7:32 AM. And yo, I was the only one there. No students. Nobody. Just me. Reviewing lecture notes, and trying to cram some of The Metamorphosis into my brain before German this morning.

The solution: If this person ever comes to office hours again, I'm going to say, "Okay, I'm not teaching you. I'm not giving any homework answers while that person is in the room. Do what you feel like." Then I'm just going to see what happens.

Why so serious?

The food you want to eat

DID YOU KNOW? There is a special class for "monsters" that wash ashore but are later revealed to be blobs of whale fat that fell off decaying whale corpses.

I was pretty sick and listless all week, but I found the strength to head to the universe-wide protest on Prop 8 today. It was freaking 80 degrees all over the bay area, but it was still a good time. There were a lot of signs. My favorite said,

MY GAY AGENDA?

1. OBTAIN EQUAL RIGHTS
2. GO TO PTA MEETING
3. PICK UP MILK
4. CLEAN HOUSE

I don't know, it seems like a sign that Sam's Mom would make, if she were gay or liked going to PTA meetings or cleaning the house. After checking out an chaotic yet outstanding Polysics concert on Thursday, I was way too tired for sign-making last night, but if I had been able to find a little more free time, my sign would have said:

Sex!
It's only for now!
Your hair!
It's only for now!
Prop 8?
It's only for now!

And then I would have something on it identifying the Avenue Q reference on it.

The protest was fun, though, and I liked how most of the speakers were like, "Seriously, please stop slandering Mormons and black people now; it's kind of not nice." Afterwards, I ganked some free tickets to something called "The Green Festival" from Hung. We ate so many organic free samples that I think my body could legally be sold as an organic product right now. Yeah, bite me, Hufu.

Polysics, by the way? They are amazing. Please try to go see them if they are in your area. They did this cover of "My Sharona" that I did not realize was a cover of "My Sharona" until 80 percent of the way through, because the lead singer kept yelling, and the keyboardist kept talking in robot voice... "my... my... my... Sharoooona." And they kept yelling "Thank you! We are back! San Fran-foooo-ucking-seees-co!" between every songs.

Oh, Japanese punk bands. Oh, Lauren Oldja.

And then I didn't find five dollars

DID YOU KNOW? It's illegal to sell six-packs of beer at liquor stores in the state of Pennsylvania.

If memory and the photographic record serve me correctly, this was the last picture taken on Ruthie's camera about three months ago before Nichole, our otherwise irreproachable couchsurfing friend from Milwaukee, dropped it in beer.

















...but it wasn't until this afternoon, in the midst of a day confined to mostly my bed with a mysterious illness that struck suddenly at around 2 AM last night, that I ended up finally taking the next logical step in this internet generation and posting it to Craiglist.

Exilim digital camera (dropped in beer) + charger (oakland rockridge / claremont)
Reply to: sale-913801734@craigslist.org [?]
Date: 2008-11-10, 3:19PM PST

Hey, someone dropped my roommate's Exilim digital camera in beer in Milwaukee. It doesn't work anymore, but maybe you can still salvage part of it. The charger was not dropped in beer, and it seems to still work.

Free!

I consulted briefly with Lauren regarding the possibility of selling it for five dollars--we agreed that had we seen this advertisement, we wouldn't even bother to take the time to drive over and pick it up ourselves. Apparently we're a little out of touch with the internet, because I received an e-mail with the subject "beer cam on cl" less than 20 minutes later. After getting another offer five minutes after that, I decided to remove this extraordinarily popular ad.

Maybe I should have charged five dollars.

So apparently you can salvage cameras that have been dropped in beer, taken through the spin cycle, dunked in a jacuzzi, or anything like that by taking the battery out, soaking them in distilled water for an hour, and then hitting them with a hair dryer set to "cool shot" for around a day. Turns out that all this work can't save them from being dropped, however, which was the fate met by the camera-taker's previous piece of photographic equipment.

Anyway, I feel like we both benefited from this exchange. Thanks, craigslist.

Colin Jackson is awesome

DID YOU KNOW? Every Monopoly board has a typo--Marvin Gardens should actually be Marven Gardens.

Radke Lab is getting smaller. Bell Lab has 23 people, and there's not much we can do anymore to disguise our dwindling size. We thought about putting the names of all our undergrads on our lab welcome sign just to make us look bigger, but decided that they are too transient, like dirty gypsies.




















So we tried a bit of misdirection instead.

Welcome to Radke Lab.

I'm getting over it now

DID YOU KNOW? Bob the Builder once had a number one single in the UK.

I was pretty sad this morning about Prop 8 passing. Pretty sad. I have a blog entry that I started about it and I started it off with a picture of Debbie Downer just to warn you that I was at the start of a pretty big downer at the time.

Then I found out that former roommate Michael J got up at 4:30 AM yesterday to volunteer for No on 8 and that made me feel a lot better. When you're sad that a few people raised 35 million dollars because they think you're nasty, it's a nice antidote to know that there are many, many more people who have no vested interest in the matter getting up before dawn to prove that you're not. Thanks, Michael J, and anyone else who volunteered or gave money.

Then I got into lab and the first thing Tanya, who doesn't seem to know that I'm gay, asked me was whether Prop 8 passed or not. When I told her that the measure had, regrettably, passed, she responded, "My god. These people. Can't they just leave them alone?" I don't know, something about the sentiment combined with the idea of a 50-year-old Russian immigrant inadvertently paraphrasing Chris Crocker just really brightened my day a little more.

But I usually need a theme song to get over something and I hadn't found one yet. When Mr. Rosenthal died it was "Let It Be." Something else in high school had "Love, Reign O'er Me." Earlier this year when I was debating whether I even liked grad school anymore, "Majesty Snowbird" convinced me that no, I could actually delight because I found a place.

You know you're in a bad mood when every song lyric you hear seems to resonate with your life somehow. So I don't know, there were a lot of songs in the running. I thought it was going to be "The Abandoned Hospital Ship," which has a heartbreaking guitar solo and also gives this entry its title. Or I thought it was going to be "Hey Jude"--now I should start to make it better.

But I was just kind of letting my iTunes play in lab today and sitting around and reading some blogs about the whole thing and generally feeling a little bit better and, well, one song came on and it kind of made me get down and boogie and feel a lot better and now, well, this is officially now my Prop 8 Healing Song.

MGMT - Electric Feel

So ooh girl! Shock me like a 'lectric eel!

(I like to pretend that I'm singing it to Barack Obama.)

Spin the choice

DID YOU KNOW? Maybe Chris Matthews will be running for Senator in Pennsylvania in 2010.

I guess I'm still technically an undecided voter, because I haven't yet figured out if I'm going to vote for Nader or not. As I've said before, my whole logic behind this Peace and Freedom Party thing is that everyone, no matter how crazy, should get to have their say. And you know what? I kind of like telling people that I'm part of the Peace and Freedom Party, you know, getting the word out. Kind of. I don't know if I've put up a yard sign or anything, but I think like dozens more people know about the party's existence just because I'm a part of it.

But seriously, Peace and Freedom Party? Nader in 2008? You nominated a convicted murderer for president in 2004 and now you're going with Nader. Okay? Work with me here. Don't get me wrong. I think Nader is a cool guy. He's very accomplished. He's charismatic. He refused to sing grammatically-incorrect lyrics on Sesame Street ("a consumer advocate is a person whom you meet each day"). I'm down with that. I'm really down with teaching children correct grammar. But, you know, Nader 2008? Scheisse. I have to tell people about that, man.

Anyhoo, yes, that's me. I'm an undecided voter on election day. Look out! I'm a loose cannon! I could do anything! I could decide anytime! Right now I'm sitting in lab waiting for my undergrad to get here so that I can make her do work while I go vote. I don't remember where my polling place is, either. I might have to bike around.

Also, I think I might have accidentally given someone a black eye at last night's Diplo concert/rave.

This post really represents me at my most beautiful.

Archaic torso of Colin 2

DID YOU KNOW? There exists a system for numerically classifying folktales.

There are many pictures I like of this year's particularly extravagant Halloween, but perhaps Ruthie will want to blog some of them. Here is my favorite one that Ruthie did not take.



I discussed this photo on the phone with Sam's Mom today:

"You look like a nun."
"A little bit, in that one."
"Maybe it's just because I watched Sister Act 2 yesterday."
"Hmmm..."
"Who is he, Tarzan?"
"No, he's Bam Bam. A bunch of people were The Flintstones.
"And that's the Colin that you work with?"
"Yeah."
"The one I met?"
"Yep."
"Well, I guess he had his glasses on when I met him."
"No, Colin doesn't wear glasses."
"Well, I guess he had his shirt on, then."
"Yeah, that's probably true."

Other fantastic costumes from my neck of the woods included Quail Man, Clark Kent, Rogue, Wolverine, and David Bowie from Aladdin Sane--all of whom are basically superheroes, now that I think about it. I was a German-speaking Red Riding Hood who perhaps enjoyed too much of her goodies on the way to Grandmother's house. As a result, the moral of Halloween is denn da ist keine Stelle, die dich nicht sieht. Du musst dein Leben ändern.

I wish Rilke wrote all fairy tales, sometimes.

Tomorrow: Diplo.