Well, it wasn't quite as fun as I thought it might be. Down in the East Village once again, we had dinner at a Mexican place (Burritos the size of one's arm), and went to a local bar that K had heard good things about. Now, the East Village is NYU territory, and so the local bars are very strict on ID-ing people. I carry around my UK driving licence, so I got that out, and then K went to get her wallet out...
...only to find that it wasn't there. No ID, no drinking, and of course the absence of the wallet was an issue in itself. We went back to the burrito place, then all the way back up to Morningside Heights, thinking perhaps that the wallet had been stolen or dropped somewhere, but to no avail. Nowhere to be found. Luckily there wasn't anything irreplaceable in it - $28, a credit card and a driving licence. Still, it was a bit of a pain in the arse and put the kibosh on what would have otherwise been a pretty good night out.
I popped in to see K this morning just before going for breakfast with Juliet, my friend and her roommate, and apparently the card hasn't been used, so it seems more likely that she just dropped it or left it somewhere. Same end result, of course, but not quite as disturbing as if it had been pickpocketed. If it was, though, whoever stole it was a real latterday Artful Dodger - the subway wasn't at all crowded, nor was the place where we ate.
Sunday, February 26, 2006
Friday, February 24, 2006
Village Idiot
In celebration mainly of Tim's birthday (all of 25) and Jonathan's engagement, and also partly of my acceptance to the PhD program, a whole bunch of us went down to the East Village, which contains most of the best Japanese-style restaurants in the city. There are sushi joints in pretty much every alley in New York (parenthetically, I suspect because the profit margins are pretty high on it compared to Chinese or Thai), but for your tsukune, your buta-kimchi, your tako-butsu and the like, in short your standard izakaya fare, you gotta hit the Village. We ate, drank and were merry. Photos below.
I'm going down there again tonight with K to check out some of the alleged dive bars in the area. Should be fun.
I'm going down there again tonight with K to check out some of the alleged dive bars in the area. Should be fun.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
The North and Nostalgia; or, In Remembrance of Things Past
Nothing much has happened this week, but even so I thought I'd put down some thoughts. What? Bugger off, this is my blog, dammit.
We've been doing Basho's Oku no Hosomichi (奥 の細道, The Narrow Road to the North) in the Keene seminar for the last six weeks or so. Most of us who have spent any time in Tohoku will have come across one or two of the sites mentioned in it, even if we didn't actually know it at the time. So it brings about a little wave of nostalgia every so often to read of the places that Basho visited and which 300 years on, I would do too. I have many happy memories of Tohoku.
So it makes me smile when I read how the haiku poet Basho claims he got lost and wound up in Ishinomaki, because I've been drinking out there many times with many good friends (it's still just as much of a shit-hole as it was when he was there).
It makes me laugh when Basho says he saw Kinkazan from Ishinomaki - because it's about two hours away, and there's no way you could ever have seen it. He got it wrong. But I've been there (during the lifetime of this blog, in fact).
And when I read his haiku about the cool waters of the Mogamigawa in Yamagata, I recall the time I went there and stood on a bridge over the Mogamigawa with my friend Ando, talking about my plans for the future. It was the day after I'd taken the GRE, and I had a raging hangover. We'd gone there to make soba in a little mountain village, and it was a brilliantly sunny late autumn day. We stood there for a while looking at the mountains, talking about our lives and where we thought they'd lead us.
The Hojoki's opening line tells us that ゆく川の流れは絶えずして、しかももとの水にあらず - "The flow of the river is unceasing, and its waters are never the same." Eighteen months on, and the river has taken me to New York.
I didn't know at the time that that September afternoon would prove to be such a powerful memory. I guess you never do.
We've been doing Basho's Oku no Hosomichi (奥 の細道, The Narrow Road to the North) in the Keene seminar for the last six weeks or so. Most of us who have spent any time in Tohoku will have come across one or two of the sites mentioned in it, even if we didn't actually know it at the time. So it brings about a little wave of nostalgia every so often to read of the places that Basho visited and which 300 years on, I would do too. I have many happy memories of Tohoku.
So it makes me smile when I read how the haiku poet Basho claims he got lost and wound up in Ishinomaki, because I've been drinking out there many times with many good friends (it's still just as much of a shit-hole as it was when he was there).
It makes me laugh when Basho says he saw Kinkazan from Ishinomaki - because it's about two hours away, and there's no way you could ever have seen it. He got it wrong. But I've been there (during the lifetime of this blog, in fact).
And when I read his haiku about the cool waters of the Mogamigawa in Yamagata, I recall the time I went there and stood on a bridge over the Mogamigawa with my friend Ando, talking about my plans for the future. It was the day after I'd taken the GRE, and I had a raging hangover. We'd gone there to make soba in a little mountain village, and it was a brilliantly sunny late autumn day. We stood there for a while looking at the mountains, talking about our lives and where we thought they'd lead us.
The Hojoki's opening line tells us that ゆく川の流れは絶えずして、しかももとの水にあらず - "The flow of the river is unceasing, and its waters are never the same." Eighteen months on, and the river has taken me to New York.
I didn't know at the time that that September afternoon would prove to be such a powerful memory. I guess you never do.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Yo-yos
It's viciously cold right now in NYC. Weather.com has it as being -9℃, -19 with the windchill, and I can believe it. It's like Dave Fusco said - "We have a program for dealing with the homeless in New York. We call it "winter"."
I'm probably going to hell for even repeating that comment. Still, I think that's the coldest temperature I've ever been out in, even in Hokkaido and the like.
I'm probably going to hell for even repeating that comment. Still, I think that's the coldest temperature I've ever been out in, even in Hokkaido and the like.
Better late...
I'm aware that I said I'd update on Thursday, and that it's now Saturday morning, but life in NYC has a habit of overtaking one at times.
So the structuralism presentation on Wednesday I had to do for class went well enough - Derrida, signs, signifiers and signified and all that guff. I managed to work in the phrase "pretentious French nonsense", though, so it's all good. But funnily enough I really enjoyed it - I think I might be cut out for this teaching business.
Only problem was, Wednesday night we had another episode from the whackjob next door who just blew his top completely - pulling his new favourite trick of arguing loudly on the phone late at night. He wouldn't keep it down despite being repeatedly asked and eventually ran out of his room through the corridors of the floor and down the stairs then out into the street, ranting all the time. Security was called, again, and said that there was nothing they could do so long as UAH was aware of the situation.
Obviously, I went down to UAH on Thursday morning, unfortunately not for the first time. The guy I spoke to, Ross, is well aware of the situation but doesn't have the power to kick him out - it has to be referred to the GSAS, who have already spoken to him, and I can't get any guarantee that they'll take any effective action. I'm deeply unimpressed with this - the guy is mentally ill, and while I didn't think before he was dangerous, now I'm not so sure. I don't want to find out what he's going to do for an encore.
Anyway, irritation with my room and general surroundings has a cure. As of Thursday, I have been accepted into the PhD program at Columbia and will be stepping up from MA to PhD this autumn. Which means a better apartment, maybe even one to myself, as all PhD candidates are guaranteed housing. It also means I get fully funded, so money won't be quite so pressing as they were.
I've actually known that I was going to be accepted for quite some time, but for obvious reasons couldn't go and plaster it all over the net. It's a payoff for working my arse off last semester, I suppose, and it means that in a few years I'll be Dr. Robert Tuck, MA (Oxon), MA, PhD (Columbia). All those letters after my name - makes me quite giddy.
That night there was a reception in honour of Donald Keene, whose Anthology of Japanese Literature reached its 50th anniversary. It was held in the library, and with copious amounts of free champagne plus licence from Prof. Shirane to, and I quote, "get smashed", I got a little merry. The Don is still, despite being 83, at the top of his game...he upstaged everyone at the end with a deft and witty little speech about how he's still very much alive and kicking. An honour to study with him.
And yesterday I went with K to the International Photography Centre downtown after work. To my surprise, Viggo Mortensen (of Aragorn of LOTR fame) was signing books there, though I wasn't one of the hundred or so people outside queueing - we just went straight on in. It's not quite on the scale of the Met or the MOMA, but worth a visit anyway.
There's always something going on...
So the structuralism presentation on Wednesday I had to do for class went well enough - Derrida, signs, signifiers and signified and all that guff. I managed to work in the phrase "pretentious French nonsense", though, so it's all good. But funnily enough I really enjoyed it - I think I might be cut out for this teaching business.
Only problem was, Wednesday night we had another episode from the whackjob next door who just blew his top completely - pulling his new favourite trick of arguing loudly on the phone late at night. He wouldn't keep it down despite being repeatedly asked and eventually ran out of his room through the corridors of the floor and down the stairs then out into the street, ranting all the time. Security was called, again, and said that there was nothing they could do so long as UAH was aware of the situation.
Obviously, I went down to UAH on Thursday morning, unfortunately not for the first time. The guy I spoke to, Ross, is well aware of the situation but doesn't have the power to kick him out - it has to be referred to the GSAS, who have already spoken to him, and I can't get any guarantee that they'll take any effective action. I'm deeply unimpressed with this - the guy is mentally ill, and while I didn't think before he was dangerous, now I'm not so sure. I don't want to find out what he's going to do for an encore.
Anyway, irritation with my room and general surroundings has a cure. As of Thursday, I have been accepted into the PhD program at Columbia and will be stepping up from MA to PhD this autumn. Which means a better apartment, maybe even one to myself, as all PhD candidates are guaranteed housing. It also means I get fully funded, so money won't be quite so pressing as they were.
I've actually known that I was going to be accepted for quite some time, but for obvious reasons couldn't go and plaster it all over the net. It's a payoff for working my arse off last semester, I suppose, and it means that in a few years I'll be Dr. Robert Tuck, MA (Oxon), MA, PhD (Columbia). All those letters after my name - makes me quite giddy.
That night there was a reception in honour of Donald Keene, whose Anthology of Japanese Literature reached its 50th anniversary. It was held in the library, and with copious amounts of free champagne plus licence from Prof. Shirane to, and I quote, "get smashed", I got a little merry. The Don is still, despite being 83, at the top of his game...he upstaged everyone at the end with a deft and witty little speech about how he's still very much alive and kicking. An honour to study with him.
And yesterday I went with K to the International Photography Centre downtown after work. To my surprise, Viggo Mortensen (of Aragorn of LOTR fame) was signing books there, though I wasn't one of the hundred or so people outside queueing - we just went straight on in. It's not quite on the scale of the Met or the MOMA, but worth a visit anyway.
There's always something going on...
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Thaw of the Roses
The downside, of course, to a record amount of snow falling in NYC is that it has to melt. And given that the drainage is not that hot in my part of Morningside Heights, this means that we tend to get large pools of slush at the corner of each block, some of which look solid, but aren't. Cold and wet feet, anyone? I've been lucky so far, but it can't last. Time to invest in some wellies, methinks.
I suppose the rant the other day, on reflection, was to some extent a result of culture shock. I'm not the only one to be fed up at the moment (though I'm doing OK right now, for reasons I'll touch on later) - my friend Juliet ain't happy either, and we had a good bitch about it in West End last night over a couple of beers. It's funny, really, because I should have recognised it from all the CLAIR stuff I've read as a JET - the cycle of everything being new and great when you arrive, then the grey of winter and the realisation that there's a long hard slog ahead of you sets in. I think this is what she and I are going through now - though of course there are always outside factors.
That said, I'm actually pretty happy right now all things considered, mainly because it's Valentine's Day and for the first time ever, I am actually going to be seeing my enamorata on the day itself. The only previous time was when I was going out with Sarah, and then I was in Japan and she in England. I was going to take K out for dinner, but apparently a bunch of her friends are going out and she feels she has to join them in the name of female solidarity and not being the crap one who does have a date. I'll be seeing her later on tonight, which is actually fine by me, because I have a lot of work to do and would rather meet up post 11 p.m. anyway.
Sorry, Tori, I won't be posting any photos of her just yet... but watch this space and you never know. And watch this space, cos I'll have some news on Thursday regarding the next four years...
I suppose the rant the other day, on reflection, was to some extent a result of culture shock. I'm not the only one to be fed up at the moment (though I'm doing OK right now, for reasons I'll touch on later) - my friend Juliet ain't happy either, and we had a good bitch about it in West End last night over a couple of beers. It's funny, really, because I should have recognised it from all the CLAIR stuff I've read as a JET - the cycle of everything being new and great when you arrive, then the grey of winter and the realisation that there's a long hard slog ahead of you sets in. I think this is what she and I are going through now - though of course there are always outside factors.
That said, I'm actually pretty happy right now all things considered, mainly because it's Valentine's Day and for the first time ever, I am actually going to be seeing my enamorata on the day itself. The only previous time was when I was going out with Sarah, and then I was in Japan and she in England. I was going to take K out for dinner, but apparently a bunch of her friends are going out and she feels she has to join them in the name of female solidarity and not being the crap one who does have a date. I'll be seeing her later on tonight, which is actually fine by me, because I have a lot of work to do and would rather meet up post 11 p.m. anyway.
Sorry, Tori, I won't be posting any photos of her just yet... but watch this space and you never know. And watch this space, cos I'll have some news on Thursday regarding the next four years...
Sunday, February 12, 2006
White Out
It's snowing in New York again, and this time it means it. Apparently the snowstorm which began last night and is still more or less going is very nearly the heaviest ever to hit the city - close to three feet in under 24 hours. I realise that's fairly minor by Canadian or even (parts of) Tohoku standards, but hey, like I say, there's always something going on here.
I have to admit it's very pretty. I like snow, always have since my days growing up in Durham, and the CU campus looks great in it too. I passed people with sleds and even a couple on skis on the way over to the library this afternoon, and needless to say the students were making the most of it, sledging down the steps of Low Library and having snowball fights, playing snow football and indulging in a bit of snow wrestling. Photos below.
All of which, while a lot of fun for me personally, must have been a right pain for a lot of the attendees at the 15th Annual Graduate Conference on East Asia at Columbia, some of whom had come from as far away as Russia, the UK, Hawai'i and Germany. Not least because the snow shut down JFK for much of the morning.
The conference itself, however, went off smoothly enough; the sessions were interesting enough to be worth attending, and the paper I gave seemed to go down well - I didn't get shredded for it, anyway, and that's the most important thing. The evening saw festivities in Starr Library, culminating in dancing on the tables - and damaging a couple of the lights in the process. The place still smells of beer and Chinese food from last night, actually, and I have a feeling they'll need industrial quantities of Febreze there to get the smell out of the carpet...
I have to admit it's very pretty. I like snow, always have since my days growing up in Durham, and the CU campus looks great in it too. I passed people with sleds and even a couple on skis on the way over to the library this afternoon, and needless to say the students were making the most of it, sledging down the steps of Low Library and having snowball fights, playing snow football and indulging in a bit of snow wrestling. Photos below.
All of which, while a lot of fun for me personally, must have been a right pain for a lot of the attendees at the 15th Annual Graduate Conference on East Asia at Columbia, some of whom had come from as far away as Russia, the UK, Hawai'i and Germany. Not least because the snow shut down JFK for much of the morning.
The conference itself, however, went off smoothly enough; the sessions were interesting enough to be worth attending, and the paper I gave seemed to go down well - I didn't get shredded for it, anyway, and that's the most important thing. The evening saw festivities in Starr Library, culminating in dancing on the tables - and damaging a couple of the lights in the process. The place still smells of beer and Chinese food from last night, actually, and I have a feeling they'll need industrial quantities of Febreze there to get the smell out of the carpet...
Thursday, February 09, 2006
Rant
I'm having a bad day.
I'm fed up with the fucking headcase next door. He's got a new hobby - having vociferous arguments on the phone with random people, AT&T and UPS last I heard. And I can hear every bloody word.
I'm fed up with the fucking University for taking so long to deal with him and being so ineffective after numerous complaints, and not just from me.
I'm fed up with the fucking muppets who live on my floor, some of whom can't sit the right way on a toilet seat, and some of whom think it's acceptable to leave your leftovers lying around in the kitchen up to and beyond the point where they grow mould. Fucking disgusting.
I'm fed up with the fucking apartment block as a whole, it's dingy, full of roaches, too small and generally nasty. Whatever happens this summer, I'm getting a new pad. Fuck this.
I'm fed up with the fucking seminar that overran by 45 minutes this afternoon when I have so many other things to do.
I'm fed up with the fucking fact that I have no money and no life right now.
But then...
there's always K. Who's great. And when I got home today, there was a care package of two packets of sturdy British blu-tak in my mailbox. You have no idea how much that brightened up my day. Now my posters will stop falling on me in the middle of the night, and I can decorate my room properly.
Funny how little things can put a smile on your face. Didn't last long though - there's a grad conference this weekend, and I'm supposed to be giving a paper. My feelings towards that are about two-thirds of the way between exhilaration and terror.
I'm fed up with the fucking headcase next door. He's got a new hobby - having vociferous arguments on the phone with random people, AT&T and UPS last I heard. And I can hear every bloody word.
I'm fed up with the fucking University for taking so long to deal with him and being so ineffective after numerous complaints, and not just from me.
I'm fed up with the fucking muppets who live on my floor, some of whom can't sit the right way on a toilet seat, and some of whom think it's acceptable to leave your leftovers lying around in the kitchen up to and beyond the point where they grow mould. Fucking disgusting.
I'm fed up with the fucking apartment block as a whole, it's dingy, full of roaches, too small and generally nasty. Whatever happens this summer, I'm getting a new pad. Fuck this.
I'm fed up with the fucking seminar that overran by 45 minutes this afternoon when I have so many other things to do.
I'm fed up with the fucking fact that I have no money and no life right now.
But then...
there's always K. Who's great. And when I got home today, there was a care package of two packets of sturdy British blu-tak in my mailbox. You have no idea how much that brightened up my day. Now my posters will stop falling on me in the middle of the night, and I can decorate my room properly.
Funny how little things can put a smile on your face. Didn't last long though - there's a grad conference this weekend, and I'm supposed to be giving a paper. My feelings towards that are about two-thirds of the way between exhilaration and terror.
Monday, February 06, 2006
All-American Guy
Well, sort of.
K and I went to watch a Columbia Lions basketball game on Friday night, vs. Harvard. It was, as you might expect, an interesting experience - I know next to nothing about basketball, but the game itself was reasonably interesting. Naturally, Columbia lost - they're fairly inept at most sports, I think - and the cheerleaders weren't even very pretty (though remarkably flexible, I'll give them that). Harvard are usually regarded as being one of the most hopeless teams amongst even the lowered standards of Ivy League sports, so I suppose that gives you some idea of how bad the CU team actually is. Still, entertaining enough...Harvard's point guard was particularly impressive, I thought, but I'll stop trying to sound like I actually know what I'm talking about. Forgot my camera again, though.
Sunday, I would have watched the Superbowl, that most American of sporting events, but unfortunately I couldn't find anyone to watch it with. K was out in Brooklyn and none of my comrades in the Battle of Starr Library could drag themselves away from their books. I don't have a TV, so I ended up missing it. Still, there's always next year, and I suppose I saved on beer and greasy food, though I ended up eating from the highly unimpressive Chinese takeaway from round the corner on 109th and Amsterdam. I don't recommend them.
And one of our aforementioned comrades, formerly known as the Lawyer Jonathan Twombly, is getting married. I'm sure all of us in EALAC join in wishing him all the best, and hope that this finally shuts him up from moaning about how he can never meet any nice girls in New York. Nice one Mr. Twombly.
K and I went to watch a Columbia Lions basketball game on Friday night, vs. Harvard. It was, as you might expect, an interesting experience - I know next to nothing about basketball, but the game itself was reasonably interesting. Naturally, Columbia lost - they're fairly inept at most sports, I think - and the cheerleaders weren't even very pretty (though remarkably flexible, I'll give them that). Harvard are usually regarded as being one of the most hopeless teams amongst even the lowered standards of Ivy League sports, so I suppose that gives you some idea of how bad the CU team actually is. Still, entertaining enough...Harvard's point guard was particularly impressive, I thought, but I'll stop trying to sound like I actually know what I'm talking about. Forgot my camera again, though.
Sunday, I would have watched the Superbowl, that most American of sporting events, but unfortunately I couldn't find anyone to watch it with. K was out in Brooklyn and none of my comrades in the Battle of Starr Library could drag themselves away from their books. I don't have a TV, so I ended up missing it. Still, there's always next year, and I suppose I saved on beer and greasy food, though I ended up eating from the highly unimpressive Chinese takeaway from round the corner on 109th and Amsterdam. I don't recommend them.
And one of our aforementioned comrades, formerly known as the Lawyer Jonathan Twombly, is getting married. I'm sure all of us in EALAC join in wishing him all the best, and hope that this finally shuts him up from moaning about how he can never meet any nice girls in New York. Nice one Mr. Twombly.
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