Showing posts with label personal update. Show all posts
Showing posts with label personal update. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Friday, November 26, 2010
Fundracing to Save Lives
I'm training to participate in the Lavaman triathlon in Kona, Hawaii as a member of The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society's ("LLS") Team In Training.
As many of you know, my mother passed away when I was 10 years old, after a prolongued battle with cancer. Her fight to stay alive inspires me to this day--she never gave up, and never admited defeat. I'm doing this race in her honor, and for all of those who have suffered from, or been affected by cancer.
LLS is an amazing organization--it is the world's largest voluntary health organization dedicated to funding blood cancer research. In addition to research, LLS engages in improving the quality of life of patients, and educating the public and health professionals. Since 1954, it has awarded over $680 million in research funding.
Please make a donation to support my participatation in Team in Training and help advance LLS's mission. If you'd like to make a donation in honor of someone, I'll be writing the names of any individuals my donors select on my jersey for the day of the race--just let me know. We need your support to cross the ultimate finish line - a cure.
Please check out my personal Team in Training page to stay up to date!
As many of you know, my mother passed away when I was 10 years old, after a prolongued battle with cancer. Her fight to stay alive inspires me to this day--she never gave up, and never admited defeat. I'm doing this race in her honor, and for all of those who have suffered from, or been affected by cancer.
LLS is an amazing organization--it is the world's largest voluntary health organization dedicated to funding blood cancer research. In addition to research, LLS engages in improving the quality of life of patients, and educating the public and health professionals. Since 1954, it has awarded over $680 million in research funding.
Please make a donation to support my participatation in Team in Training and help advance LLS's mission. If you'd like to make a donation in honor of someone, I'll be writing the names of any individuals my donors select on my jersey for the day of the race--just let me know. We need your support to cross the ultimate finish line - a cure.
Please check out my personal Team in Training page to stay up to date!
Friday, April 23, 2010
West Coast Road Trip
Been an awesome trip so far. In brief: Kicked it in PDX with Seth for a day; went snowboarding at Mt. Hood; met up with Sarah in Corvallis and we camped at Newport on Oregon coast with Sarah; got wasted in Bend with Josiah; next to SLC & Mt. Pleasant, UT for Wasatch Academy reunion (shout-out to my high school homies!); set up a campsite in the dark and woke up surprised to find I was next to a lake; checked out Bryce Canyon, then camped at Cottonwood Canyon (best campsite ever: drove Sarah's SUV up an insane service road and found a spot a million miles from anywhere atop a huge mesa); passed through Zion on the way to Vegas and spent a day w/ my grandma; visited Death Valley (got caught in a sandstorm and saw some very rare rain); snowboarded an awesome half day at Mammoth Mountain in CA (when they started closing lifts due to the wind and low visibility we left); today we drove up through Nor Cal and OR and now I'm spending the night in Corvallis. Have covered about 3500 miles in total. Heading up to Portland tomorrow, snowboarding Hood again on Saturday, and fly back to NYC on Sunday. Pictures up soon.
Death Valley, 4/20/10
Death Valley, 4/20/10
Monday, August 13, 2007
nothing in particular
it's been awhile since my last update...
is kind of a meta statement--too self-referential to be really meaningful.
so that's not how i will open this post
I can't believe I'm leaving Paris so soon--1.5 weeks, and I'm back in NYC, back in school, in a world so totally different from the one I now inhabit that i can barely comprehend it. Change is an interesting thing--sometimes we yearn for it, want nothing more than a change of scenery, are totally ready to plow into the unknown and experience something completely different, no matter what it may bring. Other times, like scared children, we cling to the present, or the past, unwilling to release the bird in our grip for the potential two in the brush.
Change is the genesis of transformation.
The only real question is, "are you ready?"
And the answer, as always, is elusive.
__________
All of my friends went on vacation at pretty much the same time, leaving me in a bit of a difficult spot. A social person, I feel somehow empty inside--maybe the word is lonely--when i don't have others around to share my experience with. Being suddenly without the group of friends I hang out with primarily makes me feel somewhat confused. Too often, my entire identity is defined by how other's perceive me. WIthout that mirror to hold myself up to, without others to communicate with, it's almost as if I don't really exist at all...
Of course that's not literally true. I continue to think, to be, even to strive. But when the meaning my actions contain is only the meaning I assign to them, it's as if the cup is half empty.
If hell is merely other people, then heaven is, too.
__________
I went out tonight with Chris, a friend I met recently, and who just moved to Paris 13 days ago. He's trying to get a job, but the French code makes it very difficult for a non-EU worker to get a work visa, so he might have to move back to Berlin if he can't find an employer who's willing to help him get one. We got a couple beers and talked Philosophy while sitting in the courtyard outside of the Centre George Pompidou, then went to an Irish pub for a couple pints of Guiness.
I spoke English with someone for a change, and got into topics so abstract that they are really impossible to communicate in a language one isn't fluent in. I found it refreshing to have an intellectual conversation with another person who was just engaged in it as I was. It's always a recurring theme for me--the best times I can remember all involve one other person, and an infinite number of ridiculous tangents going off into no-one-knows-where, in-depth examination of the very world in which we immerse ourselves. Thinking back, it makes me nostalgic for similar times I've shared with friends in the past.
__________
Well, this has turned into a bit of a silly post, with lots of nonsensical introspection and not much content.
Cheers.
is kind of a meta statement--too self-referential to be really meaningful.
so that's not how i will open this post
I can't believe I'm leaving Paris so soon--1.5 weeks, and I'm back in NYC, back in school, in a world so totally different from the one I now inhabit that i can barely comprehend it. Change is an interesting thing--sometimes we yearn for it, want nothing more than a change of scenery, are totally ready to plow into the unknown and experience something completely different, no matter what it may bring. Other times, like scared children, we cling to the present, or the past, unwilling to release the bird in our grip for the potential two in the brush.
Change is the genesis of transformation.
The only real question is, "are you ready?"
And the answer, as always, is elusive.
__________
All of my friends went on vacation at pretty much the same time, leaving me in a bit of a difficult spot. A social person, I feel somehow empty inside--maybe the word is lonely--when i don't have others around to share my experience with. Being suddenly without the group of friends I hang out with primarily makes me feel somewhat confused. Too often, my entire identity is defined by how other's perceive me. WIthout that mirror to hold myself up to, without others to communicate with, it's almost as if I don't really exist at all...
Of course that's not literally true. I continue to think, to be, even to strive. But when the meaning my actions contain is only the meaning I assign to them, it's as if the cup is half empty.
If hell is merely other people, then heaven is, too.
__________
I went out tonight with Chris, a friend I met recently, and who just moved to Paris 13 days ago. He's trying to get a job, but the French code makes it very difficult for a non-EU worker to get a work visa, so he might have to move back to Berlin if he can't find an employer who's willing to help him get one. We got a couple beers and talked Philosophy while sitting in the courtyard outside of the Centre George Pompidou, then went to an Irish pub for a couple pints of Guiness.
I spoke English with someone for a change, and got into topics so abstract that they are really impossible to communicate in a language one isn't fluent in. I found it refreshing to have an intellectual conversation with another person who was just engaged in it as I was. It's always a recurring theme for me--the best times I can remember all involve one other person, and an infinite number of ridiculous tangents going off into no-one-knows-where, in-depth examination of the very world in which we immerse ourselves. Thinking back, it makes me nostalgic for similar times I've shared with friends in the past.
__________
Well, this has turned into a bit of a silly post, with lots of nonsensical introspection and not much content.
Cheers.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Another Post from Paris
[Repost from http://leitnerinterns.blogpost.com]
Every day I come into work, it seems that the world has changed a little more, and I must revise the report I am preparing for the 2008 IT Outlook. Due to the nature of my project, the subject of my research is in constant flux. I feel like I am living on the cutting edge of the technological world as I continue to research the newest developments in the ICT industry and attempt to frame them in a way that will make sense, and will be valuable, to the many policy makers who will be reading my piece once it is published. Although I often wish I were more at the heart of things, doing substantial work rather than simply reporting on what others have done, there is something refreshing about working for an organization like the OECD, and knowing that what I do helps the reality of the world percolate up to those who are currently in a position to recognize trends and embrace change.
The past few weeks have been a bit trying--when I first started at OECD, I had two bosses, both of whom were very friendly, but which made me feel a bit uncertain about who to report to, and how to prioritize the tasks I was given. Since then, one of them has gone on paternity leave(congrats on your baby, Sacha!), and the other, a few weeks later, on vacation. Since last Monday, I have been totally unsupervised, as not only my bosses, but at least half of the OECD staff has gone on a month long break that occurs virtually everywhere in Paris during the month of August. Finding my own direction and continuing to produce my paper without the support of those far more knowledgable than me has been an interesting experience, but so far I feel confident that I'm on the right path towards completing my project. For all the long hours and constant revisions, it's nice to reflect and realize that I'm getting something done.
For those of you who prefer visual stimulus to mere words, here's a picture of La Défense(where the OECD offices are) as seen off in the distance, from my apartment. At the end of a long day, it seems somehow fitting that all I see when I look out my window is the place I work.
Every day I come into work, it seems that the world has changed a little more, and I must revise the report I am preparing for the 2008 IT Outlook. Due to the nature of my project, the subject of my research is in constant flux. I feel like I am living on the cutting edge of the technological world as I continue to research the newest developments in the ICT industry and attempt to frame them in a way that will make sense, and will be valuable, to the many policy makers who will be reading my piece once it is published. Although I often wish I were more at the heart of things, doing substantial work rather than simply reporting on what others have done, there is something refreshing about working for an organization like the OECD, and knowing that what I do helps the reality of the world percolate up to those who are currently in a position to recognize trends and embrace change.
The past few weeks have been a bit trying--when I first started at OECD, I had two bosses, both of whom were very friendly, but which made me feel a bit uncertain about who to report to, and how to prioritize the tasks I was given. Since then, one of them has gone on paternity leave(congrats on your baby, Sacha!), and the other, a few weeks later, on vacation. Since last Monday, I have been totally unsupervised, as not only my bosses, but at least half of the OECD staff has gone on a month long break that occurs virtually everywhere in Paris during the month of August. Finding my own direction and continuing to produce my paper without the support of those far more knowledgable than me has been an interesting experience, but so far I feel confident that I'm on the right path towards completing my project. For all the long hours and constant revisions, it's nice to reflect and realize that I'm getting something done.
For those of you who prefer visual stimulus to mere words, here's a picture of La Défense(where the OECD offices are) as seen off in the distance, from my apartment. At the end of a long day, it seems somehow fitting that all I see when I look out my window is the place I work.
New Thoughts on Old Themes
Went to a party at Place Clichy. Arthur's flat. I had never been there before, but went after having a few drinks with Clement, his girlfriend Angel, and Yohann, who is one of the best guitar players I know. Arthur has a Wii, and I think we played every game on it. The only downside was that he only had one controller for some reason, so we had to alternate in order to play. I think I held my own at Wii bowling, where I teamed up with Angel and we won, and also Wii boxing. I didn't do so bad for having played only once before. I kept asking to play Super Smash Bros.(the Wii is backwards-compatible with Gamecube games), but Arthur kept saying we could after the next game. Thus, we played Wii sports all night long.
I also learned how to say "I don't care" about a million different ways. The most formal is "je n'ai que faire de ces sottisses." There's also "je m'en fiche," "je m'en tappe," and "je m'en fou," as well as "je m'en balincouie," which is considered extremely vulgar and should therefore not be used around anyone who is faint of heart, or coworkers, if it can be avoided. I'm not sure about the spelling of any of them, and I'm only slightly more certain of the pronunciation. French is hard.
I walked home alone, and was happy to find my way without problems. The nice thing about Paris, and what almost makes up for the fact that all the streets are crooked and change names almost every block, is that there are detailed maps on the back of almost every bus stop(except the ones that have been vandalized). Once you have a basic idea of what direction you're heading, finding your way anywhere isn't a big deal. It's kind of affirming not to get lost in Paris anymore. Like I'm really starting to know the place.
_______________
It's funny, from the moment I bought my scooter... Or even before--really, from the moment I decided I would buy a scooter, I knew that I would have an accident. And somewhow, I foresaw it happening 2/3 of the way through my summer in Paris. In August. I don't know how I knew, but I envisioned it, vividly. I thought of how pitiful I would be, laying by the road, injured and barely able to move as the rain poured down and I felt nothing but cold. My suit torn, my bones broken, adrenaline rushing through me as I tried to guess at the extent of my injuries. I feared that moment, yet somehow felt it was unavoidable. Ineluctable destiny. And at first, I drove safely. As safely as I could. I didn't lane split, or I did so only when traffic was stopped. I didn't speed. I paid close attention. I drove as if my life depended on it. I bought my scooter on June 1st, and told myself I'd avoid all etoiles, and Charles de Gaulle Etoile in particular, until at least my 25th birthday, on the 9th. And I more or less did this... Simply out of fear, I avoided every roundabout for over a week. I first entered Charles de Gaulle Etoile, a seething mass of clustered cars and chaos, the most dangerous spot of all the roads in Paris, on June 8th around 10pm, on the way to a party where I would celebrate my birthday. But after a few weeks with no incidents, and a growing awareness of how to control my vehicle, I got cocky. And then, 2 months later, out of the blue, an accident on a relatively minor road on a normal day, with the sunshine shining. Just as I thought, it wouldn't be my fault--a careless driver, not only failing to signal, but even forgetting to look where he was going as he turned suddenly. In truth, I don't know if he could have done better if he had been, in fact, trying to hit me. And quick reflexes, braking just in time, and I never even fell to the ground. I don't want to call it a miracle, but I think it was against the odds that it should play out so innocuously.
I feel lucky as all hell, and I think I've learned the lesson--from now on I must drive as if on eggshells. I must survive at least until the next round.
_________________
Here's a song: Steso Songs - The Worse
_________________
Anyways, santé to another day survived in Paris.
I also learned how to say "I don't care" about a million different ways. The most formal is "je n'ai que faire de ces sottisses." There's also "je m'en fiche," "je m'en tappe," and "je m'en fou," as well as "je m'en balincouie," which is considered extremely vulgar and should therefore not be used around anyone who is faint of heart, or coworkers, if it can be avoided. I'm not sure about the spelling of any of them, and I'm only slightly more certain of the pronunciation. French is hard.
I walked home alone, and was happy to find my way without problems. The nice thing about Paris, and what almost makes up for the fact that all the streets are crooked and change names almost every block, is that there are detailed maps on the back of almost every bus stop(except the ones that have been vandalized). Once you have a basic idea of what direction you're heading, finding your way anywhere isn't a big deal. It's kind of affirming not to get lost in Paris anymore. Like I'm really starting to know the place.
_______________
It's funny, from the moment I bought my scooter... Or even before--really, from the moment I decided I would buy a scooter, I knew that I would have an accident. And somewhow, I foresaw it happening 2/3 of the way through my summer in Paris. In August. I don't know how I knew, but I envisioned it, vividly. I thought of how pitiful I would be, laying by the road, injured and barely able to move as the rain poured down and I felt nothing but cold. My suit torn, my bones broken, adrenaline rushing through me as I tried to guess at the extent of my injuries. I feared that moment, yet somehow felt it was unavoidable. Ineluctable destiny. And at first, I drove safely. As safely as I could. I didn't lane split, or I did so only when traffic was stopped. I didn't speed. I paid close attention. I drove as if my life depended on it. I bought my scooter on June 1st, and told myself I'd avoid all etoiles, and Charles de Gaulle Etoile in particular, until at least my 25th birthday, on the 9th. And I more or less did this... Simply out of fear, I avoided every roundabout for over a week. I first entered Charles de Gaulle Etoile, a seething mass of clustered cars and chaos, the most dangerous spot of all the roads in Paris, on June 8th around 10pm, on the way to a party where I would celebrate my birthday. But after a few weeks with no incidents, and a growing awareness of how to control my vehicle, I got cocky. And then, 2 months later, out of the blue, an accident on a relatively minor road on a normal day, with the sunshine shining. Just as I thought, it wouldn't be my fault--a careless driver, not only failing to signal, but even forgetting to look where he was going as he turned suddenly. In truth, I don't know if he could have done better if he had been, in fact, trying to hit me. And quick reflexes, braking just in time, and I never even fell to the ground. I don't want to call it a miracle, but I think it was against the odds that it should play out so innocuously.
I feel lucky as all hell, and I think I've learned the lesson--from now on I must drive as if on eggshells. I must survive at least until the next round.
_________________
Here's a song: Steso Songs - The Worse
_________________
Anyways, santé to another day survived in Paris.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Scooter Accident
Coming home from work today, I had my first scooter accident, and, in general, my first motor vehicle accident in over 7 years. I was cruising down Pereire Nord behind some guy, he turned right without signalling, and I was able to slam my brakes and turn fully sideways before hitting his door. I laid down my bike, which slid a few feet and has a nice big scrape on the muffler now.
The guy got out, took a look at me, a look at his car, and we spoke for a few minutes. Since my French isn't so great, I didn't want to get into an argument with him, so I didn't bother telling him he cut me off. Instead, I just told him I and my bike were fine. He said he was too, we shook hands, and he drove off. I picked my bike up, looked around and found my bag, which had fallen out of the topcase when I crashed, and then put it back on the bike. I drove off too.
I can't believe I don't have a scratch on me, not even a tear in my pants or a scuff on my shoes. I was probably going 50 km/h, maybe slowed down to 30 before I hit him. I somehow managed to stay standing after I let go of the bike, which slid a few feet and never stopped running. I guess it's not so bad when you hit the car--I'm just glad the car didn't hit me.
And the best thing about it: I never had to fill out an accident report.
The guy got out, took a look at me, a look at his car, and we spoke for a few minutes. Since my French isn't so great, I didn't want to get into an argument with him, so I didn't bother telling him he cut me off. Instead, I just told him I and my bike were fine. He said he was too, we shook hands, and he drove off. I picked my bike up, looked around and found my bag, which had fallen out of the topcase when I crashed, and then put it back on the bike. I drove off too.
I can't believe I don't have a scratch on me, not even a tear in my pants or a scuff on my shoes. I was probably going 50 km/h, maybe slowed down to 30 before I hit him. I somehow managed to stay standing after I let go of the bike, which slid a few feet and never stopped running. I guess it's not so bad when you hit the car--I'm just glad the car didn't hit me.
And the best thing about it: I never had to fill out an accident report.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Insert Title Here
I'm not going to write about airports anymore. It's no longer interesting or funny. But, suffice it to say, my return to Paris was far more arduous than it should have been, and when I finally got back to my flat, I was utterly exhausted and slept for 12 hours straight.
My stay with Oiwi was excellent. He showed me all around Oxford, we hung out at some cool pubs, including this amazing mediterranean place where we drank mint tea and got drunk on sangria while eating tapas.
We also went to the Musem of Natural History in Oxford, which while not nearly as large as the one in NYC, was quite amazing in its own right, with some very good animal and dinosaur displays, as well as a some very detailed and intriguing anthropological exhibits and antiquities. Above all, though, it was just nice to reconnect to an old friend.
_________________
Asked whether the glass is half empty or half full, I'm beginning to realize the glass may just not be living up to its full potential...
_________________
So, I sort of jumped back into this blog a few weeks ago, and I posted more in the month of July than I had the entire last two years combined. I don't really have a coherent vision for where this thing is going, so I'd love some feedback from anyone who's been reading. I know there are at least a few of you. Leave a comment if you have any suggestions on what you'd like to see--maybe more or less of something, or even a specific topic you'd like to see me write about.
My stay with Oiwi was excellent. He showed me all around Oxford, we hung out at some cool pubs, including this amazing mediterranean place where we drank mint tea and got drunk on sangria while eating tapas.
We also went to the Musem of Natural History in Oxford, which while not nearly as large as the one in NYC, was quite amazing in its own right, with some very good animal and dinosaur displays, as well as a some very detailed and intriguing anthropological exhibits and antiquities. Above all, though, it was just nice to reconnect to an old friend._________________
Asked whether the glass is half empty or half full, I'm beginning to realize the glass may just not be living up to its full potential...
_________________
So, I sort of jumped back into this blog a few weeks ago, and I posted more in the month of July than I had the entire last two years combined. I don't really have a coherent vision for where this thing is going, so I'd love some feedback from anyone who's been reading. I know there are at least a few of you. Leave a comment if you have any suggestions on what you'd like to see--maybe more or less of something, or even a specific topic you'd like to see me write about.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Travel... Purgatory?
Well, at least the end is in sight this time. I made it to the right country without too much trouble--left my apartment plenty early so the obligatory delay on the RER didn't make me miss my flight. I even managed to be one of the first off the eplane, and the very first through customs. But when I got to the bus ticket stand, I was informed that I'd barely missed the last coach. I had no idea what the bus schedule was coming but, but I doubt that even if I had known that I could have made it. At any rate, I've managed to get stuck in yet another airport, this time Luton in London. Tantalizingly close to my final destination of Oxford and my buddy Oiwi. It's 11:30pm here now(12:30 in Paris), and the next bus doesn't depart until a little after 2:00am. If all goes well, I'll be in Oxford before 4am rolls around.
At least I'm not in Charles de Gaulle Aeroport--Luton's way nicer. For one, there are shops open even at this alte hour, including a mini supermarket(Marks & Spencer) where I got a cheese and chutney sandwich. And the internet kiosks, while a bit expensive at 1£/10 minutes at least have real keyboards. I gotta kill a few hours, and I am sleep as hell.
I really need to look into getting a personal helicopter. Or maybe a jetpack.
At least I'm not in Charles de Gaulle Aeroport--Luton's way nicer. For one, there are shops open even at this alte hour, including a mini supermarket(Marks & Spencer) where I got a cheese and chutney sandwich. And the internet kiosks, while a bit expensive at 1£/10 minutes at least have real keyboards. I gotta kill a few hours, and I am sleep as hell.
I really need to look into getting a personal helicopter. Or maybe a jetpack.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
In this post, I ramble on about nothing in particular...
Finished reading 'arry Potta today--It was pretty damn intense. Won't say any more than that--I know I'd have punched someone who made me read a spoiler 24 hours ago.
_________
I got my first foreign speeding ticket in France. Apparently I got nailed by a traffic camera, b/c it showed up in the mail. I was going 83 km/h in a 70 zone. According to the letter I was sent, my infraction translates as: "Exceeding the speed limit by less than 20 km/h while driving a motor vehicle in an area with a speed limit greater than 50 km/h." I thought about just skipping the country, but I paid the 45 € fine instead.
Fuckers.
__________
Better news also came in the mail: British Air finally ponied up for the guitar they smashed on my way here from NYC. Received a check to the tune of 460 €. Still not happy about the whole situation, but at least I'm no poorer for it.
Rest in peace, old friend.
_________
And music news on a lighter note(har-har): Last night, i went to this crazy jam session place near Montmartre called 'The Garage' with Hady, Tony, and Hady's little brother. Tony and I brought our guitars, Hady's bro his bass, and Hady used the drumkit there--we rented a room for 2 hours and it was fully equipped with enormous speakers, microphones, preamps, everything we could need to rock out. I had to put in ear plugs, because I thought I was going deaf. By far the most fun I've had jamming with people ever--plugging in to some serious equipment makes a big difference.
_________
I <3 running in Parc Monceau
__________
Random thought for the day:
The only difference between a mess of contradictions and a balanced personality is situational awareness.
_________
I got my first foreign speeding ticket in France. Apparently I got nailed by a traffic camera, b/c it showed up in the mail. I was going 83 km/h in a 70 zone. According to the letter I was sent, my infraction translates as: "Exceeding the speed limit by less than 20 km/h while driving a motor vehicle in an area with a speed limit greater than 50 km/h." I thought about just skipping the country, but I paid the 45 € fine instead.
Fuckers.
__________
Better news also came in the mail: British Air finally ponied up for the guitar they smashed on my way here from NYC. Received a check to the tune of 460 €. Still not happy about the whole situation, but at least I'm no poorer for it.
_________
And music news on a lighter note(har-har): Last night, i went to this crazy jam session place near Montmartre called 'The Garage' with Hady, Tony, and Hady's little brother. Tony and I brought our guitars, Hady's bro his bass, and Hady used the drumkit there--we rented a room for 2 hours and it was fully equipped with enormous speakers, microphones, preamps, everything we could need to rock out. I had to put in ear plugs, because I thought I was going deaf. By far the most fun I've had jamming with people ever--plugging in to some serious equipment makes a big difference.
_________
Photo: http://parispassion.canalblog.com
__________
Random thought for the day:
The only difference between a mess of contradictions and a balanced personality is situational awareness.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Back in Paris
I'm tempted to write another long and rambling post about the rest of my stay in OR, but I think I'll just keep it short instead. Here are a few vital statistics:
Total days: 5.5
Hours in flight: 29
Planes flown on: 5
Hours in airports: 27
Number of airports: 4
Worst airport: Charles de Gaulle
Airports with free wi-fi: 1 (Portland, OR)
Lost luggage/Broken Guitars: 0
Miles driven(Kia Rondo rental)(total): 817
Miles driven(average per day): 148.5
Hours of sleep(total): 28
Hours of sleep(average per day): 5.1
Hours of sleep in rental car: 3
All-nighters: 2
Coffee: Lots
Beer/Wine/Gin and Tonic: Plenty
Hangovers: 0
Swims in the Deschutes River: 2
Stars in the Oregon Sky: Countless
Sunny Days: 5.5
Peak temperature: 100 °F
Cool haircuts: 1
French toast breakfasts: 1
Extended family: A whole bunch I hadn't seen in ages
Old friends reconnected with: >10
New friends: >20
New brothers-in-law: 1
Freaking awesome weddings: 1
Total days: 5.5
Hours in flight: 29
Planes flown on: 5
Hours in airports: 27
Number of airports: 4
Worst airport: Charles de Gaulle
Airports with free wi-fi: 1 (Portland, OR)
Lost luggage/Broken Guitars: 0
Miles driven(Kia Rondo rental)(total): 817
Miles driven(average per day): 148.5
Hours of sleep(total): 28
Hours of sleep(average per day): 5.1
Hours of sleep in rental car: 3
All-nighters: 2
Coffee: Lots
Beer/Wine/Gin and Tonic: Plenty
Hangovers: 0
Swims in the Deschutes River: 2
Stars in the Oregon Sky: Countless
Sunny Days: 5.5
Peak temperature: 100 °F
Cool haircuts: 1
French toast breakfasts: 1
Extended family: A whole bunch I hadn't seen in ages
Old friends reconnected with: >10
New friends: >20
New brothers-in-law: 1
Freaking awesome weddings: 1
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Travel hell, 2nd Edition
As planned, I didn't go to sleep on Sunday night. I stayed up packing to try and make sure that I could sleep just the right amount at just the right time on the plane to avoid any jetlag. Unfortunately, the RER B(a metro line in Paris) had otehr ideas, and was delayed over 40 minutes getting me to the airport on Monday morning. I, and about 15 others on my flight, were turned away from the check-in counter, told it was too late. They wouldn't even let us try to get through security and to the gate.
I was put on standby for a flight an hour later that would have gotten me to OR roughly the same time. At 1pm Paris time, I waved to the plane as it left the gate, full, leaving myself and 5 or 6 other standby passengers stranded as Continental shut down for the day, telling us to come back 7 am the next morning to try to fly out on standby again. Rather than go back to my apartment, a 1.5 hour journey by public transportation, with no guarantee I'd make it back to the airport on time the next morning, I decided to tough out Aeroport Charles de Gaulle and make it my home for the next day and night.
Two of the other passengers, Adrienne and Ed, who were grad students on the way back to Houston(my connecting flight to PDX) from vacation and some neuroscience conferences in Brussels, chatted me up a while, but they ended up taking off to a hotel nearby. However, Cesar, a Mexican citizen trying to get back to Chihuahua via the same flight I missed, was planning the same thing as me, so we decided to team up to improve our odds of taming the fierce environment that we soon realized is probably the worst airport in all of Europe.
CDG is enormous. It takes an hour to walk from one end of the terminal to the other, and there are 3 terminals, each connected by a monorail sorta thing. Yet, every space is cramped. You can barely get two luggage carts abreast at most places, and the gates have seating for about 10% of the capacity of today's transatlantic jets. The airport was built for a time when it was a hub for many small flights, and is not suited for today's model of far fewer, far larger flights.
Every chair in the airport is made of metal, with no padding. They practically all have armrests, making laying down impossible. Cesar and I managed to find a metal bench that looked more comfortable than the rest, but it was far from any electrical outlets, so we waited until no one was looking, and carried it about 20 meters to some outlets so we could charge our laptops(switching off on a power adapter I bought from an airport store--neither of us though to bring one, because we both expeted to be in North America before we'd have to charge). We bivouaced there, confident we had found the most optimal setup in the entire airport. This was a sentiment I confirmed throughout the night, as my wanderings int he terminal showed me dark visions of stranded business travellers in rumpled suits, heads tilted at unnatural angles trying to get comfortable on chairs designed to be implements of torture rather than welcoming waiting areas.
I played guitar for a while, opening up my case and making a sign that said:
A few people tossed me a few Euros, but airport crowds really aren't too sympathetic. At any rate, it was a good time, and Cesar sang along with some of the songs he knew(notably, Louie
Louie, which also got the most grins from passersby).
Once I had collected a few Euros, I went off in search of food. Dining spots are few and far between at CDG. There aren't a lot of restaurants, their food is poor quality and expensive, and they close very early. I ate McDonalds there, something I haven't done in 15 years, because there just wasn't anything else available. It was awful and I think I'll avoid it for another 15 years. However, when I got hungry again around 11pm(as the McD's was my only meal that day), I was disappoitned to realize that even McDonald's had closed. I went everywhere in the terminal, a 2 hour trek for sustenance, but found nothing open. The airport was officially dead. I returned to the metal bench, where Cesar was watching one of my DVDs on his laptop. I broke out a clif bar I had in my backpack for just such an emergency. Cesar also shared a big bag of roasted peanuts he had acquired earlier. Mmm, dinner.
Bored out of my mind at midnight(did I mention that Wi-Fi cost 20 Euros, or about $30 USD for a 24 hour connection? I decided it wasn't worth it, which limited the ability of my computer to entertain me), I wandered over to a large group of French youths, looking to be mostly around 18-25. One of them had a classical guitar he was strumming on, so I asked him first if he spoke English, and when the reply came back negative, I asked in French if he'd like to jam. He nodded, so I brought over my guitar, and we played together for at least a couple of hours. I found out the group, mostly high school students from Bordeaux, was on some sort of humanitarian mission to Madagascar, and the other guy paying the guitar is about to finish up French law school himself. I told him a law student in the US, and we talked about what were interested in a little bit, though the depth of the conversation was limited by my french skillz(or lack thereof). At any rate, they were entertaining, and helped me kill time until around 5 am, when the nearly two days without sleep caught up with me and I had to catch just a quick nap. I was fully aware that if I slept even a little more than 2 hours that I'd probably miss my flight, but my eyes just wouldn't stay open.
Fortunately, I woke up on time, made my flight, got to Newark, and sprinted through customs and to my gate, barely making my 45 minute connection. 5 minutes later, none other than Ed and Adrienne, the couple who also mised the original Houston flight due to the Paris Metro, arrived ont he plane, red in the face and out of breath. They had the seats next to me, and seemed as relieved as I was to be on th plane. We laughed at the coincidence, and I congratulated them for making the connection. They were very nice and quite interesting, so we talked most of the flight, except for the 1.5 hours when Blades of Glory was playing as the inflight film(which was hilarious despite the tiny screen and the messed-up airplane audio). When I finally got O houston, I was excited for some good tex-mex, but disheartened to discover the worst airport burrito ever. I mad my connextion to PDX without problems. And after my mad dash in Newark, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that my baggage actually made it, intact and with no delays, to my final destination. Apparently a baggage handler was running as fast as me. A festivus miracle.
Anyways, the rest of my trip has been great--I rented a car to drive into PDX, then spent a night at the bars with a bunch of old AEPi's, then went back to Seth's pad where I'm staying and we hung out until late, getting into one of those crazy conversations about life and the universe that only seem to happen when you meet an old friend after too long. I drove down to Eugene and stopped by LogicTools and Hillel before spending the evening with Brittany, then back up to Portland. On Wednesday, I had breakfast with Lach in P-town before driving down to Redmond.
I was put on standby for a flight an hour later that would have gotten me to OR roughly the same time. At 1pm Paris time, I waved to the plane as it left the gate, full, leaving myself and 5 or 6 other standby passengers stranded as Continental shut down for the day, telling us to come back 7 am the next morning to try to fly out on standby again. Rather than go back to my apartment, a 1.5 hour journey by public transportation, with no guarantee I'd make it back to the airport on time the next morning, I decided to tough out Aeroport Charles de Gaulle and make it my home for the next day and night.
Two of the other passengers, Adrienne and Ed, who were grad students on the way back to Houston(my connecting flight to PDX) from vacation and some neuroscience conferences in Brussels, chatted me up a while, but they ended up taking off to a hotel nearby. However, Cesar, a Mexican citizen trying to get back to Chihuahua via the same flight I missed, was planning the same thing as me, so we decided to team up to improve our odds of taming the fierce environment that we soon realized is probably the worst airport in all of Europe.
CDG is enormous. It takes an hour to walk from one end of the terminal to the other, and there are 3 terminals, each connected by a monorail sorta thing. Yet, every space is cramped. You can barely get two luggage carts abreast at most places, and the gates have seating for about 10% of the capacity of today's transatlantic jets. The airport was built for a time when it was a hub for many small flights, and is not suited for today's model of far fewer, far larger flights.
Every chair in the airport is made of metal, with no padding. They practically all have armrests, making laying down impossible. Cesar and I managed to find a metal bench that looked more comfortable than the rest, but it was far from any electrical outlets, so we waited until no one was looking, and carried it about 20 meters to some outlets so we could charge our laptops(switching off on a power adapter I bought from an airport store--neither of us though to bring one, because we both expeted to be in North America before we'd have to charge). We bivouaced there, confident we had found the most optimal setup in the entire airport. This was a sentiment I confirmed throughout the night, as my wanderings int he terminal showed me dark visions of stranded business travellers in rumpled suits, heads tilted at unnatural angles trying to get comfortable on chairs designed to be implements of torture rather than welcoming waiting areas. I played guitar for a while, opening up my case and making a sign that said:
Stranded!
Airport food too expensive!!
Please Help!!!!
A few people tossed me a few Euros, but airport crowds really aren't too sympathetic. At any rate, it was a good time, and Cesar sang along with some of the songs he knew(notably, Louie
Louie, which also got the most grins from passersby).Once I had collected a few Euros, I went off in search of food. Dining spots are few and far between at CDG. There aren't a lot of restaurants, their food is poor quality and expensive, and they close very early. I ate McDonalds there, something I haven't done in 15 years, because there just wasn't anything else available. It was awful and I think I'll avoid it for another 15 years. However, when I got hungry again around 11pm(as the McD's was my only meal that day), I was disappoitned to realize that even McDonald's had closed. I went everywhere in the terminal, a 2 hour trek for sustenance, but found nothing open. The airport was officially dead. I returned to the metal bench, where Cesar was watching one of my DVDs on his laptop. I broke out a clif bar I had in my backpack for just such an emergency. Cesar also shared a big bag of roasted peanuts he had acquired earlier. Mmm, dinner.
Bored out of my mind at midnight(did I mention that Wi-Fi cost 20 Euros, or about $30 USD for a 24 hour connection? I decided it wasn't worth it, which limited the ability of my computer to entertain me), I wandered over to a large group of French youths, looking to be mostly around 18-25. One of them had a classical guitar he was strumming on, so I asked him first if he spoke English, and when the reply came back negative, I asked in French if he'd like to jam. He nodded, so I brought over my guitar, and we played together for at least a couple of hours. I found out the group, mostly high school students from Bordeaux, was on some sort of humanitarian mission to Madagascar, and the other guy paying the guitar is about to finish up French law school himself. I told him a law student in the US, and we talked about what were interested in a little bit, though the depth of the conversation was limited by my french skillz(or lack thereof). At any rate, they were entertaining, and helped me kill time until around 5 am, when the nearly two days without sleep caught up with me and I had to catch just a quick nap. I was fully aware that if I slept even a little more than 2 hours that I'd probably miss my flight, but my eyes just wouldn't stay open.
Fortunately, I woke up on time, made my flight, got to Newark, and sprinted through customs and to my gate, barely making my 45 minute connection. 5 minutes later, none other than Ed and Adrienne, the couple who also mised the original Houston flight due to the Paris Metro, arrived ont he plane, red in the face and out of breath. They had the seats next to me, and seemed as relieved as I was to be on th plane. We laughed at the coincidence, and I congratulated them for making the connection. They were very nice and quite interesting, so we talked most of the flight, except for the 1.5 hours when Blades of Glory was playing as the inflight film(which was hilarious despite the tiny screen and the messed-up airplane audio). When I finally got O houston, I was excited for some good tex-mex, but disheartened to discover the worst airport burrito ever. I mad my connextion to PDX without problems. And after my mad dash in Newark, I was pleasantly surprised to discover that my baggage actually made it, intact and with no delays, to my final destination. Apparently a baggage handler was running as fast as me. A festivus miracle.
Anyways, the rest of my trip has been great--I rented a car to drive into PDX, then spent a night at the bars with a bunch of old AEPi's, then went back to Seth's pad where I'm staying and we hung out until late, getting into one of those crazy conversations about life and the universe that only seem to happen when you meet an old friend after too long. I drove down to Eugene and stopped by LogicTools and Hillel before spending the evening with Brittany, then back up to Portland. On Wednesday, I had breakfast with Lach in P-town before driving down to Redmond.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Bon Soir from Paris
[Repost from http://leitnerinterns.blogpost.com]
It's been far too long since my last post, but I've been so absorbed at work, and at play, trying to live the life of a Parisian, that I've almost come to think that the world I left behind in NYC is simply an illusion.
But to snap back into reality for a moment--here is a glimpse into my life:
The OECD has been amazing to work with. It is a truly ideal setting, with an enormous staff of inspired, forward-thinking, internationally diverse, and talented individuals. There is a true sense that we are all working towards something great--despite wide divergence on the subject matter and focus within the different directorates and divisions of the organization.
The building is located in la Défense, the major business district just outside of the city proper--an area of looming glass skyscrapers and modern art surrounding a plaza that looks like something out of a science fiction movie. Each day I work among the throngs of Parisian businessmen(and women!), the center of Paris' economic life and the locus of its productive workforce--a purposefully constructed business district which is far more focused than in any other city I have ever visited.
I have been placed in the Science, Technology, and Industry Directorate, in the Information Communications Technology division, one of the larger divisions within OECD. The division is responsible for tracking and analyzing the worldwide progress of technical development, and what firms, governments, and universities are doing in the field. I am working on the IT Outlook 2008--which is a biannual report detailing a wealth of data on the ICT industry and is one of the preeminent primary sources for statistical data in the field as well as an invaluable, and influential, tool for policy makers.
My assignment right now is twofold--I'll be writing a module in the ITO that examines the emerging technologies that are currently being researched worldwide, and what their impact will be, especially in the developing world. A subsection of this module will be a report on the advancements in 'green' technology, and this will likely also be developed into a standalone paper a bit more in-depth than what will be published in the ITO. So far, it's been research, research, research, and while it's very challenging, it's incredibly stimulating--and quite intriguing to think that the work I'm doing now may have an impact on future policy.
Besides work, Paris has been treating me well--I bought a motorscooter so I can get around like a Parisian(i.e. very fast, and always *this close* to being run over by a taxi). I've managed to visit quite a few of the city's amazing parks, including the gorgeous Parc des Buttes Chaumont. I'm enjoying the free time of summer by going running everyday in the nearby Parc Monceau. I spent an amazing evening with two Canadians and an Australian who were passing through Paris, sitting on the steps of La Basilique du Sacré Coeur, drinking red wine and listening to the musicians who bring their guitars there every night.
Sadly, however, my own guitar did not make it to Paris in one piece. It was completely destroyed when British Airways finally delivered it to me a day and a half late. The pictures are too frightful to post. However, that devastating turn of events quickly became an opportunity for me to visit the famed Rue de Douai, near Pigalle, an amazing street in the heart of Paris with guitar shop after guitar shop--literally over 30 of them within less than a kilometer. A guitar lover's paradise. I bought myself a new one, and I can happily report that there is nothing quite as enjoyable as playing a guitar on a park bench in Paris in the summer.
Finally, I've made friends with a group of French students who have all just finished lycée. They are helping me with my French and I'm helping them improve their already impressive English. Last week, they took me to an enormous outdoor fête at Parc du Champ-de-Mars, the large greenspace underneath and behind la Tour Eiffel. Tens of thousands of French high school students gathered there, drinking, shouting, dancing, and generally partying as they celebrated the end of le bac, the high school exit exam. It was incredible. That night, I also managed to perfect my French accent on the phrase "Ouru de vous rencontre," or "Nice to meet you," as I moved around the crowd and shared in the massive jubiliation of the Parisian youth until early in the morning.
This is, in a nutshell, my Paris experience thus far, and I eagerly await more. To Leitner scholars and dear readers--be well. À bientôt.
It's been far too long since my last post, but I've been so absorbed at work, and at play, trying to live the life of a Parisian, that I've almost come to think that the world I left behind in NYC is simply an illusion.
But to snap back into reality for a moment--here is a glimpse into my life:
The OECD has been amazing to work with. It is a truly ideal setting, with an enormous staff of inspired, forward-thinking, internationally diverse, and talented individuals. There is a true sense that we are all working towards something great--despite wide divergence on the subject matter and focus within the different directorates and divisions of the organization.
The building is located in la Défense, the major business district just outside of the city proper--an area of looming glass skyscrapers and modern art surrounding a plaza that looks like something out of a science fiction movie. Each day I work among the throngs of Parisian businessmen(and women!), the center of Paris' economic life and the locus of its productive workforce--a purposefully constructed business district which is far more focused than in any other city I have ever visited.I have been placed in the Science, Technology, and Industry Directorate, in the Information Communications Technology division, one of the larger divisions within OECD. The division is responsible for tracking and analyzing the worldwide progress of technical development, and what firms, governments, and universities are doing in the field. I am working on the IT Outlook 2008--which is a biannual report detailing a wealth of data on the ICT industry and is one of the preeminent primary sources for statistical data in the field as well as an invaluable, and influential, tool for policy makers.
My assignment right now is twofold--I'll be writing a module in the ITO that examines the emerging technologies that are currently being researched worldwide, and what their impact will be, especially in the developing world. A subsection of this module will be a report on the advancements in 'green' technology, and this will likely also be developed into a standalone paper a bit more in-depth than what will be published in the ITO. So far, it's been research, research, research, and while it's very challenging, it's incredibly stimulating--and quite intriguing to think that the work I'm doing now may have an impact on future policy.Besides work, Paris has been treating me well--I bought a motorscooter so I can get around like a Parisian(i.e. very fast, and always *this close* to being run over by a taxi). I've managed to visit quite a few of the city's amazing parks, including the gorgeous Parc des Buttes Chaumont. I'm enjoying the free time of summer by going running everyday in the nearby Parc Monceau. I spent an amazing evening with two Canadians and an Australian who were passing through Paris, sitting on the steps of La Basilique du Sacré Coeur, drinking red wine and listening to the musicians who bring their guitars there every night.
Sadly, however, my own guitar did not make it to Paris in one piece. It was completely destroyed when British Airways finally delivered it to me a day and a half late. The pictures are too frightful to post. However, that devastating turn of events quickly became an opportunity for me to visit the famed Rue de Douai, near Pigalle, an amazing street in the heart of Paris with guitar shop after guitar shop--literally over 30 of them within less than a kilometer. A guitar lover's paradise. I bought myself a new one, and I can happily report that there is nothing quite as enjoyable as playing a guitar on a park bench in Paris in the summer.Finally, I've made friends with a group of French students who have all just finished lycée. They are helping me with my French and I'm helping them improve their already impressive English. Last week, they took me to an enormous outdoor fête at Parc du Champ-de-Mars, the large greenspace underneath and behind la Tour Eiffel. Tens of thousands of French high school students gathered there, drinking, shouting, dancing, and generally partying as they celebrated the end of le bac, the high school exit exam. It was incredible. That night, I also managed to perfect my French accent on the phrase "Ouru de vous rencontre," or "Nice to meet you," as I moved around the crowd and shared in the massive jubiliation of the Parisian youth until early in the morning.
This is, in a nutshell, my Paris experience thus far, and I eagerly await more. To Leitner scholars and dear readers--be well. À bientôt.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Day 2
I woke up early this morning, and was on the train into Paris by 8am. I started off in Pereire-Levallois, then walked down Avenue Niel, which is the street my apartment(which I'm moving into on Thursday) is located on. I passed by the Arc de Triomphe, then walked down the Champs Elysee, passing by la Louvre, the Jardin Tulieres, and also spent some time walking along the quai, watching the boats and admiring the bridges. It was overcast, but dry up until this point, when a light rain started, and slowly picked up. I investigated the area around Notre Dame, and after about half an hour walking in the latin quarter, I managed to find Shakespeare and Co., an amazing English Language bookstore owned by Walt Whitman's grandon, which I had visited last time I was in Paris(2000). I then proceeding back across the river, walked through the Marais until the Bastille, but by then the rain had gotten so bad I decided to take the train back to my Hotel.
Tonight, i went back to the pizza place, and talked with some guys who live in the area--two of the ones I talked to longest were Harry and Armand, who were very nice and helped me work on my french.
When I got back to the hotel, my guitar had finally been delivered, but it was completely destroyed. The headstock is snapped off, so I don't think it's possible to repair. I've filed a claim with British Airways, but who knows if they'll actually do anything. So, I'm in a bit of a somber mood.
Anways, I've got a big day tomorrow and it's pretty late, so I'm signing off.
Tonight, i went back to the pizza place, and talked with some guys who live in the area--two of the ones I talked to longest were Harry and Armand, who were very nice and helped me work on my french.
When I got back to the hotel, my guitar had finally been delivered, but it was completely destroyed. The headstock is snapped off, so I don't think it's possible to repair. I've filed a claim with British Airways, but who knows if they'll actually do anything. So, I'm in a bit of a somber mood.
Anways, I've got a big day tomorrow and it's pretty late, so I'm signing off.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Paris-Day 1
[The following is a repost from http://www.leitnerinterns.blogspot.com, the website for Fordham University Leitner scholars. I'll be posting here, on my personal blog, things that are less closely related to my internship with the OECD, which is the subject of my posts on the leinterinterns blog.]
I just arrived in Paris tonight, so I thought this might be a good time to write a first post. I'm very excited to be here, naturally, but I am completely exhausted from the past few days--because of a combination of the writing competition and packing up my entire apartment in a day, I've only slept about 9 hours since Wednesday. Also, I'm a bit bummed because my guitar is missing in action. The baggage handlers at Charles de Gaulle airport think it must have gotten stuck in London, and will hopefully arrive in a day or two. Nonetheless, as soon as I hit Paris, I was invigorated. I'm staying at a hostel for the next few days, until I move into my apartment. The hostel is right on the outskirts of Paris, in Epinay-sur-Seine, a nice area with a very suburban feel to it. I went exploring a bit after moving in, went for a long walk and relished being in a new place. It was overcast and lightly raining on and off, with a cool breeze that was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat of New York these past few days. I had only been walking for about five minutes before someone stopped and asked me for directions. Of course, I had to let them know I was fresh off the plane and barely knew where I was, let alone where they were going. Still, the inquiry gave me an instant, and encouraging, sense of belonging. As I walked around, I started getting hungry(they served meals on the plane, but, well, it was airplane food and it didn't really do the trick), so I stopped into a cool little pizza shop. Inside, a crowd of locals was huddled around a thirteen inch(33cm?) TV watching a football match--they were all going absolutely crazy every time one of the players made a good play or someone scored. I watched with them while I ate and got pretty into it, and thoroughly enjoyed meeting some people who weren't tourists.
I'll be starting my internship at the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development on Monday, so I think I'm going to sleep in tomorrow(just a bit!), then spend the day exploring Paris. For now, though, I think it's time to sign off.
À bientôt,
Adam
I just arrived in Paris tonight, so I thought this might be a good time to write a first post. I'm very excited to be here, naturally, but I am completely exhausted from the past few days--because of a combination of the writing competition and packing up my entire apartment in a day, I've only slept about 9 hours since Wednesday. Also, I'm a bit bummed because my guitar is missing in action. The baggage handlers at Charles de Gaulle airport think it must have gotten stuck in London, and will hopefully arrive in a day or two. Nonetheless, as soon as I hit Paris, I was invigorated. I'm staying at a hostel for the next few days, until I move into my apartment. The hostel is right on the outskirts of Paris, in Epinay-sur-Seine, a nice area with a very suburban feel to it. I went exploring a bit after moving in, went for a long walk and relished being in a new place. It was overcast and lightly raining on and off, with a cool breeze that was a welcome relief from the sweltering heat of New York these past few days. I had only been walking for about five minutes before someone stopped and asked me for directions. Of course, I had to let them know I was fresh off the plane and barely knew where I was, let alone where they were going. Still, the inquiry gave me an instant, and encouraging, sense of belonging. As I walked around, I started getting hungry(they served meals on the plane, but, well, it was airplane food and it didn't really do the trick), so I stopped into a cool little pizza shop. Inside, a crowd of locals was huddled around a thirteen inch(33cm?) TV watching a football match--they were all going absolutely crazy every time one of the players made a good play or someone scored. I watched with them while I ate and got pretty into it, and thoroughly enjoyed meeting some people who weren't tourists.
I'll be starting my internship at the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development on Monday, so I think I'm going to sleep in tomorrow(just a bit!), then spend the day exploring Paris. For now, though, I think it's time to sign off.
À bientôt,
Adam
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
3 Weeks, Condensed
It's been a while, so here's a quick breakdown of everything that's happened since I got back from New York and DC:
* Brittany came back from Uruguay with some sort of flu/cold and gave it to me. I've been sick as hell and am finally getting better. I've been going to work for the most part anyways(only missed one day!) but it's made the past couple weeks rough.
* Brittany had an awesome time over spring break and was primed to talk about it in every conversation for at least a week. I think she's totally sure she wants to take a year abroad in South America at some point, she's just trying to figure out when.
* I decided to accept Fordham's offer of admission and sent in my first deposit. AMAZINGLY, the next day I got an e-mail from their financial aid office telling me that they are awarding me a $7,500 per year merit-based scholarship, for all three years I am there. That was, by far, the most shockingly good news I have heard in a very long time.
* Brittany's roommate Laurel suddenly and unexpectedly went batshit crazy and decided she needed to move out, basically telling Brittany that she should trade apartments with me. She actually yelled that at her while I was sitting right there, talking about me in the third person, and never quite got around to asking me if it would be alright. Well, anyways, it did turn out to be the most expedient route, because Brittany's going crazy and needs someone to move in with her if Laurel moves out, which is inevitable at this point. So, long story short, I'm moving from Duck's Village to Brittany's apartment downtown and swapping leases with Laurel. I'm gonna miss living with Gabe, Mike, and Brandon, but I had to get Brittany's back on this or she'd be pretty screwed. Right now I'm in the process of moving all my junk, trying to get it done by next weekend.
I think that's about it for the major events of the past few weeks.
* Brittany came back from Uruguay with some sort of flu/cold and gave it to me. I've been sick as hell and am finally getting better. I've been going to work for the most part anyways(only missed one day!) but it's made the past couple weeks rough.
* Brittany had an awesome time over spring break and was primed to talk about it in every conversation for at least a week. I think she's totally sure she wants to take a year abroad in South America at some point, she's just trying to figure out when.
* I decided to accept Fordham's offer of admission and sent in my first deposit. AMAZINGLY, the next day I got an e-mail from their financial aid office telling me that they are awarding me a $7,500 per year merit-based scholarship, for all three years I am there. That was, by far, the most shockingly good news I have heard in a very long time.
* Brittany's roommate Laurel suddenly and unexpectedly went batshit crazy and decided she needed to move out, basically telling Brittany that she should trade apartments with me. She actually yelled that at her while I was sitting right there, talking about me in the third person, and never quite got around to asking me if it would be alright. Well, anyways, it did turn out to be the most expedient route, because Brittany's going crazy and needs someone to move in with her if Laurel moves out, which is inevitable at this point. So, long story short, I'm moving from Duck's Village to Brittany's apartment downtown and swapping leases with Laurel. I'm gonna miss living with Gabe, Mike, and Brandon, but I had to get Brittany's back on this or she'd be pretty screwed. Right now I'm in the process of moving all my junk, trying to get it done by next weekend.
I think that's about it for the major events of the past few weeks.
Monday, April 03, 2006
Travel Hell
So we left off and I was just getting to Dulles airport...
My ticket to Las Vegas, where I was supposed to transfer to a flight to Eugene, said United Airlines. Prominently. On the first line. WIth no other airlines listed anywhere.
Like an idiot. I believed my ticket, and so I stood in line at the United ticket counter for 45 minutes. At the ticket counter, they explained that although my ticket said United, it actually meant US Airways, and so I'd have to go there instead. I complied, walking briskly across Dulles' huge terminal, and naturally, the US Airways rep explained to me that I'd have to go to even further, to the America West ticket counter, because they had merged and I'd actually be on their airline instead. United is at the furthest possible position from America West i at Dulles. I'd estimate it was about a quarter of a mile walk, and I was encumbered by two very heavy bags. I go to the America West ticket counter at 8:03.
My flight being at 8:30, they calmly explained that I missed the 30 minute cutoff and they wouldn't let me check-in. There was no way I'd be able to get to the gate fast enough, they said, and there's no chance they'd even let me try. It would be a disservice to me if they did, they said.
I completely lost my shit, essentially demanding, pleading, begging that they just check me in. They're wasting valuable time, I tried to expalin, there's still 27 minutes, I can make... Then there were only 25 minutes.. then only twenty, and then they asked me to leave.
I called orbitz, screamed at them for a while, and they refused to take responsibility. "I'm flying America West, but my ticket says United.. You put the wrong airline on my ticket, so it's your faultthat I missed my flight I told them." "The ticket is supposed to say United," they rejoined, "They're the issuing airline!" "But it's misleading to put the wrong airline front and center on a ticket! You put the wrong information there!" "No," they replied, "We put the right information there, and we're not going t argue with you about that. You should have paid closer attention. It's all in the service agreement you clicked next on."
I gave up. It was 8:25, my flight still ahdn't left, but there of course there was no way I'd be getting on it. I went back to teh ticket counter and asked to reschedule my flight. THey were nice enough to waive the $150 change fee, and set me up to go Phoenix at 7AM the next day, and fly standby to Eugene once I go there. I called Mr. Cimino-Hurt, and like the hero that he is, he came and picked up, aying he didn't mind driving me back to the airport at 6 the next day.
Fast forward to 6 the next day. I check in, and then start my stopwatch. I walk deliberately to security. THey pat me down, the whole deal. They single me out for special inspection, swab everything for explosives, and riffle through my belongings. Stopwatch is ticking.
I walk to the shuttle to my flight, wait for it to leave, and then exit it when it reaches the proper terminal. I heave my enormous bags to the gate, and take a seat while I wait to board. 17 minutes had passed since I left the check in counter. Bastards.
The flight to Phoenix was uneventful. I slept most of the way because I was exhausted, and when we got to Phoenix, I had plenty of time to get to the gate where my standby flight was leaving from. I was one of the first ones there, but when I asked the gate agents if I was going to get on, they explained that the flight was overbooked, so it would take an act of God for me to make the flgiht. I bought a cinnabon for breakfast, and I waited. Julie Portnoy walked by, and she was taking the flight. We said hello. She got on board the aircraft, since she had a real ticket and wasn't on standby. I ate my cinnabon and watched a fligt going to Eugene take off without me.
The next flight to Eugene wasn't until 5:30, 6 hours later. So I sat around, read a little, and waited some more. Around 4:30 the gate agents came to the gate so I asked them if I might make this flight. It was even more severely overbooked. Furthermore, the next flight to Eugene from Phoenix wasn't until TUESDAY NIGHT. I sat at the gate, and chatted with Mark Johnson, a philosophy proffessor who was on the flight. The whole time the gate agent was asking ticketed passengers to give up their seats because they were so badly oversold. I could tell I wasn't getting on this flight, either. Eventually professor Johnson boarded the plane. Eventually the plane took off, and again I saw my ride home leave without me.
The only way to get back home was going to be to go to Las Vegas, wait 26 hours, then catch a flight that miraculously had 1 seat still open. Fortunately, my grandma lives there so I had a place to stay, and I actually had a decent time visiting with her for a day.
I only had one more flight left, but of course there was no way it could go smoothly. I got to the airport with about an hour and twenty minutes, waited in line for 50 minutes, then asked an agent if there was any way she could help me get to the front of the line, because I thought I'd miss my flight. SHe just laughed at me and shrugged. I was freaking out and thought I could feel an ulcer start to develop, when another agent who had overheard came up and actually tried to help. SHe checked me in, and then told me I probably wouldn't make it, but I had better go as fast as I can if I want any chance. There was no way I was going to miss this flight, so again I went as fast as I could to security, where, of course, they decided to give me the 'extra inspection.' They made me unpack everything, they even confiscated my tiny swiss army knife, which I'd been flying around the entire country with and no one had bothered me about before, even in my last flight where I was given the special treatment as well. I thought they had reformed the laws a litte, guess not. ANyways, when they were finally done with me I was again sprinting down the terminal, still lugging around all my clothes and the ten pound paperweight that used to be my laptop. Breathless and sweaty I made it to the gate just in time. I think sitting down on the too-small seat on the little regional jet was probably the happiest single moment of my trip. Secure in the knowledge that I'd actually be getting home that night, I took a deep breath and relaxed.
My ticket to Las Vegas, where I was supposed to transfer to a flight to Eugene, said United Airlines. Prominently. On the first line. WIth no other airlines listed anywhere.
Like an idiot. I believed my ticket, and so I stood in line at the United ticket counter for 45 minutes. At the ticket counter, they explained that although my ticket said United, it actually meant US Airways, and so I'd have to go there instead. I complied, walking briskly across Dulles' huge terminal, and naturally, the US Airways rep explained to me that I'd have to go to even further, to the America West ticket counter, because they had merged and I'd actually be on their airline instead. United is at the furthest possible position from America West i at Dulles. I'd estimate it was about a quarter of a mile walk, and I was encumbered by two very heavy bags. I go to the America West ticket counter at 8:03.
My flight being at 8:30, they calmly explained that I missed the 30 minute cutoff and they wouldn't let me check-in. There was no way I'd be able to get to the gate fast enough, they said, and there's no chance they'd even let me try. It would be a disservice to me if they did, they said.
I completely lost my shit, essentially demanding, pleading, begging that they just check me in. They're wasting valuable time, I tried to expalin, there's still 27 minutes, I can make... Then there were only 25 minutes.. then only twenty, and then they asked me to leave.
I called orbitz, screamed at them for a while, and they refused to take responsibility. "I'm flying America West, but my ticket says United.. You put the wrong airline on my ticket, so it's your faultthat I missed my flight I told them." "The ticket is supposed to say United," they rejoined, "They're the issuing airline!" "But it's misleading to put the wrong airline front and center on a ticket! You put the wrong information there!" "No," they replied, "We put the right information there, and we're not going t argue with you about that. You should have paid closer attention. It's all in the service agreement you clicked next on."
I gave up. It was 8:25, my flight still ahdn't left, but there of course there was no way I'd be getting on it. I went back to teh ticket counter and asked to reschedule my flight. THey were nice enough to waive the $150 change fee, and set me up to go Phoenix at 7AM the next day, and fly standby to Eugene once I go there. I called Mr. Cimino-Hurt, and like the hero that he is, he came and picked up, aying he didn't mind driving me back to the airport at 6 the next day.
Fast forward to 6 the next day. I check in, and then start my stopwatch. I walk deliberately to security. THey pat me down, the whole deal. They single me out for special inspection, swab everything for explosives, and riffle through my belongings. Stopwatch is ticking.
I walk to the shuttle to my flight, wait for it to leave, and then exit it when it reaches the proper terminal. I heave my enormous bags to the gate, and take a seat while I wait to board. 17 minutes had passed since I left the check in counter. Bastards.
The flight to Phoenix was uneventful. I slept most of the way because I was exhausted, and when we got to Phoenix, I had plenty of time to get to the gate where my standby flight was leaving from. I was one of the first ones there, but when I asked the gate agents if I was going to get on, they explained that the flight was overbooked, so it would take an act of God for me to make the flgiht. I bought a cinnabon for breakfast, and I waited. Julie Portnoy walked by, and she was taking the flight. We said hello. She got on board the aircraft, since she had a real ticket and wasn't on standby. I ate my cinnabon and watched a fligt going to Eugene take off without me.
The next flight to Eugene wasn't until 5:30, 6 hours later. So I sat around, read a little, and waited some more. Around 4:30 the gate agents came to the gate so I asked them if I might make this flight. It was even more severely overbooked. Furthermore, the next flight to Eugene from Phoenix wasn't until TUESDAY NIGHT. I sat at the gate, and chatted with Mark Johnson, a philosophy proffessor who was on the flight. The whole time the gate agent was asking ticketed passengers to give up their seats because they were so badly oversold. I could tell I wasn't getting on this flight, either. Eventually professor Johnson boarded the plane. Eventually the plane took off, and again I saw my ride home leave without me.
The only way to get back home was going to be to go to Las Vegas, wait 26 hours, then catch a flight that miraculously had 1 seat still open. Fortunately, my grandma lives there so I had a place to stay, and I actually had a decent time visiting with her for a day.
I only had one more flight left, but of course there was no way it could go smoothly. I got to the airport with about an hour and twenty minutes, waited in line for 50 minutes, then asked an agent if there was any way she could help me get to the front of the line, because I thought I'd miss my flight. SHe just laughed at me and shrugged. I was freaking out and thought I could feel an ulcer start to develop, when another agent who had overheard came up and actually tried to help. SHe checked me in, and then told me I probably wouldn't make it, but I had better go as fast as I can if I want any chance. There was no way I was going to miss this flight, so again I went as fast as I could to security, where, of course, they decided to give me the 'extra inspection.' They made me unpack everything, they even confiscated my tiny swiss army knife, which I'd been flying around the entire country with and no one had bothered me about before, even in my last flight where I was given the special treatment as well. I thought they had reformed the laws a litte, guess not. ANyways, when they were finally done with me I was again sprinting down the terminal, still lugging around all my clothes and the ten pound paperweight that used to be my laptop. Breathless and sweaty I made it to the gate just in time. I think sitting down on the too-small seat on the little regional jet was probably the happiest single moment of my trip. Secure in the knowledge that I'd actually be getting home that night, I took a deep breath and relaxed.
The next few days...
So, the rest of my trip was pretty nice-- I had good times in New York, hung out with Gavin on Tuesday, and then that night had dinner with my cousin Allison. I spent all day Wednesday at Fordham attending the admiited students day. It was really quite impressive.
THen I started having some real bad luck.
I should have known something was wrong when my laptop stopped working entirely on Wednesday evening. I was just sitting in Yerachmiel's apartment in Brooklyn surfing the web and it totally stopped responding. Cursor was frozen, alt-tab, ctr-alt-del, nothing. I finally did a hard shut-down, and when I tried to reboot I didn't even get a bios. I wasn't able to get any response out of it, no matter how I tried to reboot, restart, anything. I am pretty sure either the processor or motherboard just gave up. That was pretty disappointing. I'd had that laptop since freshman year and have replaced many components. I think now it's finally dead for good. Rest in peace, Little Computer that Could.
So, the next day another funny thing happened. I lazed around the apartment until about 90 minutes before my flight, then Yerachmiel and I started to drive to JFK. It was pretty nasty traffic, but we got there with about 25 minutes to go 'til my flight. I checked my ticket to see which airline I'd be taking so we eent to the right terminal, and it was about then that I realized I was supposed to fly out of Laguardia. Oh, shit.
Yerachmiel had no idea how to get there, and of course neither did I, but I broke out my handy subway map(which happens to ahve a few major surface streets as well) and frantically told Yerachmield to get on the Van Wyck, which would take us in more or less the right direction. Yerachmiel called one of his friends, and he told us which exit to take. We go to LaGuardia with about 10 minutes to go, I jumped out, ran to the front of the line, bolted through security and sprinted to the gate. I didn't check any luggage, so I was carrying everything--including my 10lb laptop which was now total dead weight. I made it with seconds to spare, got on the plane, and, of course we waited on the tarmac for about 40 minutes to take off.
When I landed in DC, I had to find transportation. There are signs everywhere at Dulles saying to only take authorized taxi services(I think the airport gets kickbacks), and at the taxi place there was guy giving out flyers, so I grabbed one, he wrote something on it, and told me where to go. I looked at the back and it said it'd be around $50(est.) to get to DC and they charge by the mile and by the minute. So I looked for other options, and found a huttle service hidden in the corner that would get me to my hotel for $27. It's a good thing i did that, because the 2 hour ride through the worst bumper to bumper traffice I have seen anywhere, Los Angeles included, would have probably cost me over $150 if I had taken the airport taxi.
My hotel was crappy, really more of a hostel than anything else, but I figured it would be since the room was only $50 a night. TO give a poignant example of just how run down it was though: the bathroom sink was the kind with a procelain base that is supposed to extend down to the floor. The procelain base on this one wasn't long enough, so it was sitting on top of a cut-down two-by-four. Really a classy fix-it job, if you ask me.
I went to a bar nearby for dinner and a beer, and talked to some of the locals. None of them really had much to say about American University, which I was going to visit, but they made DC sound a lot more livable than I had imagined. I guess it's gotten much better in the past few years.
Next morning, I cram onto the subway at 7AM to get to the American Law campus. Their presentation was nice, and it definitely gave me something to think on. I really will need to make a hard decision, because American seems to stack up to Fordham better than I though it might. I cut out early to go visit Mr. Cimino-Hurt, who was a teacher at my high school, my advisor, and also the Sensei of our Karate team. He lives in Virginia now, ao I made the trip out there by subway and he picked me up.
It was really cool to see him and his family. His wife was also a teacher at my high school, and really cool, and I'm friends with his sons Alex and Robyn, although only Robyn was home. We had dinner and he drove me to the airport, where I arrived with about 70 minutes to go before my flight...
well, i'm finally back in Eugene after
THen I started having some real bad luck.
I should have known something was wrong when my laptop stopped working entirely on Wednesday evening. I was just sitting in Yerachmiel's apartment in Brooklyn surfing the web and it totally stopped responding. Cursor was frozen, alt-tab, ctr-alt-del, nothing. I finally did a hard shut-down, and when I tried to reboot I didn't even get a bios. I wasn't able to get any response out of it, no matter how I tried to reboot, restart, anything. I am pretty sure either the processor or motherboard just gave up. That was pretty disappointing. I'd had that laptop since freshman year and have replaced many components. I think now it's finally dead for good. Rest in peace, Little Computer that Could.
So, the next day another funny thing happened. I lazed around the apartment until about 90 minutes before my flight, then Yerachmiel and I started to drive to JFK. It was pretty nasty traffic, but we got there with about 25 minutes to go 'til my flight. I checked my ticket to see which airline I'd be taking so we eent to the right terminal, and it was about then that I realized I was supposed to fly out of Laguardia. Oh, shit.
Yerachmiel had no idea how to get there, and of course neither did I, but I broke out my handy subway map(which happens to ahve a few major surface streets as well) and frantically told Yerachmield to get on the Van Wyck, which would take us in more or less the right direction. Yerachmiel called one of his friends, and he told us which exit to take. We go to LaGuardia with about 10 minutes to go, I jumped out, ran to the front of the line, bolted through security and sprinted to the gate. I didn't check any luggage, so I was carrying everything--including my 10lb laptop which was now total dead weight. I made it with seconds to spare, got on the plane, and, of course we waited on the tarmac for about 40 minutes to take off.
When I landed in DC, I had to find transportation. There are signs everywhere at Dulles saying to only take authorized taxi services(I think the airport gets kickbacks), and at the taxi place there was guy giving out flyers, so I grabbed one, he wrote something on it, and told me where to go. I looked at the back and it said it'd be around $50(est.) to get to DC and they charge by the mile and by the minute. So I looked for other options, and found a huttle service hidden in the corner that would get me to my hotel for $27. It's a good thing i did that, because the 2 hour ride through the worst bumper to bumper traffice I have seen anywhere, Los Angeles included, would have probably cost me over $150 if I had taken the airport taxi.
My hotel was crappy, really more of a hostel than anything else, but I figured it would be since the room was only $50 a night. TO give a poignant example of just how run down it was though: the bathroom sink was the kind with a procelain base that is supposed to extend down to the floor. The procelain base on this one wasn't long enough, so it was sitting on top of a cut-down two-by-four. Really a classy fix-it job, if you ask me.
I went to a bar nearby for dinner and a beer, and talked to some of the locals. None of them really had much to say about American University, which I was going to visit, but they made DC sound a lot more livable than I had imagined. I guess it's gotten much better in the past few years.
Next morning, I cram onto the subway at 7AM to get to the American Law campus. Their presentation was nice, and it definitely gave me something to think on. I really will need to make a hard decision, because American seems to stack up to Fordham better than I though it might. I cut out early to go visit Mr. Cimino-Hurt, who was a teacher at my high school, my advisor, and also the Sensei of our Karate team. He lives in Virginia now, ao I made the trip out there by subway and he picked me up.
It was really cool to see him and his family. His wife was also a teacher at my high school, and really cool, and I'm friends with his sons Alex and Robyn, although only Robyn was home. We had dinner and he drove me to the airport, where I arrived with about 70 minutes to go before my flight...
well, i'm finally back in Eugene after
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
first day in new york
i landed at newark at like 7:30...i slept a little on the plane but not much, and was so beat... i only got 3 hours of sleep on the plane and it was 4am eugene time. so i got on the train and it took me about 3 hours and plenty of transfers to get to crown heights. when i got off the subway there yerachmiel wasn't answering his phone right away so of course within two minutes a chasid came out of nowhere and asked me if i wanted to wrap tefillin, so i was like 'sure,' and we went into 770 to git 'r done.
when that was done with i went outside, and yerachmiel was actually right there calling me(he had been inside 770 as well) we walked the ten or so blocks back to his pad and dropped off my stuff, then went out for some breakfast.
yerachmiel had to work so i walked over to the subway and rode to penn station. i got out and was walking around 7th street and the fashion district, which was my first time above ground in manhattan. it was SO COOL. i ended up going into macy's to get a dress shirt to put on over my zelda t-shirt so i looked less like a tourist. (which i became painfully aware that i must after seeing how differently people dress here than on the west coast)
i walked all the way through 7th street, to broadway, walked through times square, and then stopped at columbus circle, where i sat and read 'the outside world'(which brittany lent me after reading it for a judaic studies class) for a while in the sun. then i walked through central park a bit and headed west to lincoln center then onto fordham campus where i got a guest pass so i could walk around and see what it was like.
i had a little lunch on campus, but i was so beat i decided to head back to the subway and go back to crown heights. the ride was almost an hour and i was pretty much asleep by the time i got there and walked the mile or so back to yerachmiel's apartment.
manhattan is rad, brooklyn is rad, new york is rad, and i'm having a great time so far. i'm not finding it overwhelming at all, just very exciting, and there's really a lot to see. i think i'd like it here a lot if i decide to study at fordham.
when that was done with i went outside, and yerachmiel was actually right there calling me(he had been inside 770 as well) we walked the ten or so blocks back to his pad and dropped off my stuff, then went out for some breakfast.
yerachmiel had to work so i walked over to the subway and rode to penn station. i got out and was walking around 7th street and the fashion district, which was my first time above ground in manhattan. it was SO COOL. i ended up going into macy's to get a dress shirt to put on over my zelda t-shirt so i looked less like a tourist. (which i became painfully aware that i must after seeing how differently people dress here than on the west coast)
i walked all the way through 7th street, to broadway, walked through times square, and then stopped at columbus circle, where i sat and read 'the outside world'(which brittany lent me after reading it for a judaic studies class) for a while in the sun. then i walked through central park a bit and headed west to lincoln center then onto fordham campus where i got a guest pass so i could walk around and see what it was like.
i had a little lunch on campus, but i was so beat i decided to head back to the subway and go back to crown heights. the ride was almost an hour and i was pretty much asleep by the time i got there and walked the mile or so back to yerachmiel's apartment.
manhattan is rad, brooklyn is rad, new york is rad, and i'm having a great time so far. i'm not finding it overwhelming at all, just very exciting, and there's really a lot to see. i think i'd like it here a lot if i decide to study at fordham.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Another day, another post... Plus a nice little lorenz attractor.
No stories about bunnies this time.
I'm still reeling from that Matisyahu concert last weekend. It was definitely the best show I've been to in a long time, and I've been listening to Live at Stubb's over and over again at work. Definitely can't wait for Youth to come out. Also, the opening act, Trevor Hall was pretty tight. I bought the CD on a whim after deciding I liked the guy's sound, and it was definitely worth it. Listened to it at least twice yesterday.
I convinced my boss to order a bunch of nerf guns for the office right before we moved and a delivery came today, so I was pretty hyped, thinking they had arrived. Instead, it was just a bunch of wooden blocks that he got for all of my coworkers who have children. Man was I pissed--I wanted toys for me, not toys for real kids. Oh well.
Lorenz attractors are pretty damn cool. The idea of chaos being the dominant force in a system, but the system nonetheless maintaining a high degree of order always impressed me, and I've been thinking about it a lot more lately. The weird thing about self-organizing systems, though, is that the systemic order is always contingent on the right conditions to create the attractors. Small changes in the rules or environment will lead to either uninteresting patterns of completely predictable order(i.e. boring stability, like a checkerboard), or the outright chaos of background noise or brownian motion. Of course there's always the possibility that changes could lead to a new, different set of attractors and an equally unique self-organizing system, and I think that when we talk about creating an evolution in social consciousness or the international politicial landscape, that's the sort of change that people usually want to create. But by their very nature these systems are unpredictable--I find myself... not exactly worrying... but at a sort of low level of constant anxiety over the future of civilization. I know it's kind of a huge thing to be concerned with, and furthermore so abstract as to be almost meaningless, but I guess when you read the news as much as I do that's what you end up thinking about a lot of the time. What's gonna happen as the focus of power shifts away from the US, the world's long-dominant superpower? How are environmental degradation and overpopulation going to affect policies and economics? Will new technology step in to counteract all the negative effects of previous technologies? What the fuck are we gonna do if Iran gets nukes? Lots of of questions, no answers...
I guess we'll just have to wait and see if we get another self-organizing chaotic and beatiful attractor, pure chaos and anarchy as extremism prevails and it's polarizing effects spread unchecked, or the 'boring stability' of total annihilation.
Damn I wish I wasn't such a downer.
I'm still reeling from that Matisyahu concert last weekend. It was definitely the best show I've been to in a long time, and I've been listening to Live at Stubb's over and over again at work. Definitely can't wait for Youth to come out. Also, the opening act, Trevor Hall was pretty tight. I bought the CD on a whim after deciding I liked the guy's sound, and it was definitely worth it. Listened to it at least twice yesterday.
I convinced my boss to order a bunch of nerf guns for the office right before we moved and a delivery came today, so I was pretty hyped, thinking they had arrived. Instead, it was just a bunch of wooden blocks that he got for all of my coworkers who have children. Man was I pissed--I wanted toys for me, not toys for real kids. Oh well.
Lorenz attractors are pretty damn cool. The idea of chaos being the dominant force in a system, but the system nonetheless maintaining a high degree of order always impressed me, and I've been thinking about it a lot more lately. The weird thing about self-organizing systems, though, is that the systemic order is always contingent on the right conditions to create the attractors. Small changes in the rules or environment will lead to either uninteresting patterns of completely predictable order(i.e. boring stability, like a checkerboard), or the outright chaos of background noise or brownian motion. Of course there's always the possibility that changes could lead to a new, different set of attractors and an equally unique self-organizing system, and I think that when we talk about creating an evolution in social consciousness or the international politicial landscape, that's the sort of change that people usually want to create. But by their very nature these systems are unpredictable--I find myself... not exactly worrying... but at a sort of low level of constant anxiety over the future of civilization. I know it's kind of a huge thing to be concerned with, and furthermore so abstract as to be almost meaningless, but I guess when you read the news as much as I do that's what you end up thinking about a lot of the time. What's gonna happen as the focus of power shifts away from the US, the world's long-dominant superpower? How are environmental degradation and overpopulation going to affect policies and economics? Will new technology step in to counteract all the negative effects of previous technologies? What the fuck are we gonna do if Iran gets nukes? Lots of of questions, no answers...I guess we'll just have to wait and see if we get another self-organizing chaotic and beatiful attractor, pure chaos and anarchy as extremism prevails and it's polarizing effects spread unchecked, or the 'boring stability' of total annihilation.
Damn I wish I wasn't such a downer.
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