the latest

Lazy Sunday in the city - or in my apartment. I have earned 24 hours of down time, even if being a graduate student isn't the marathon of the corporate world. Okay, fine, 48 hours of downtime. There has been culture, thanks to Kolz's Dylan kick, and I walked all the hell all over the city on Friday, too! My brunch tea has made me a bit scattered from the caffeine, and so we have another free association post:

Thank you, Lau, for explaining the saturn return. I thought we were in it, and there was that REM song...

This is the season of greens, I have decided. First, chard, and yesterday, thanks to the Union Square Greenmarket (oh lovely greenmarket...), it was pea shoots. I've had them at my favorite Chinese place downtown, so it was an experiment. And a very chewy experiment. Turns out you should cut off the bottom half of the shoot to avoid over-roughage-ing yourself. Luckily Kolz is game for trying new veggies, and we ate around the rough parts. I have also done another gazpacho for this evening with the last of the tomatoes.

I was looking for a link to Great New York Noodletown (at Bowery and Bayard, and you should go, or make me take you there) - and instead I found this. I never thought I'd thank the Daily News.

I am so excited about fall and winter this year, even with the cold. Yesterday's greenmarket was so over-full of neat things that you don't get any other time of year. And I love my peacoat, the fall closet changeover. And the summer was so unremittingly hot, and I love the cool nights for sleeping. Things are moving forward in a good way. But there was, while I was walking with my out-of-town guest over the Brooklyn Bridge on Friday, a pang of remembered regret or grief that I can't quite place. I don't think it's as simple and sentimental as summer dying, or whatever, but it was definitely there. I wonder about that. Do we all have a sad or worried shadow-self that kind of trails behind the person who has to bustle through the days and get things done? I was told once that my resting expression was very sad, which others then disagreed with...but I'm not sure. It may again just be wanting to go home -- when your breakfast sausage and french toast transports you instantly to toes on a cold kitchen floor and crisp air and bundled-up bathrobes, maybe it's time to get back to the ranch and be done with it. Three more weeks, hopefully.

Today's projects: work on orals reading, look over grant application, deliver birthday prezzies to Lau, make magnets from neat-o Tanzanian soda bottlecaps, blend gazpacho. ...and we're off!

P.S. I commend my anonymous, hard-ass plagiarism commenter -- I am not sure how the system is supposed to work, here. I feel like the outcome was partially successful, in that he got caught, but I don't know the real consequences. And unlike other folks, I don't think that losing the student (or not having to deal with him/her anymore) is a good outcome. You can't give up on them. The student in question was given a 0 for the paper, which would make it very hard to get anything above a B- for the class, but also a chance to make good on things. And he proceeded to drop the class like a hot potato. With that comes a mark for an unauthorized withdrawal and a discussion with a dean. I thought said student was a junior, but turned out not - a freshman, which made it even worse. Somehow the whole episode made me feel really awful, and question the diligence of my teaching as well as the impact that juggling so many things has on my day-to-day. I hate hate hate feeling like I've dropped the ball, but I didn't crib bits from wikipedia, he did -- and so it goes.