- Re-discovering the joy of leisurely afternoons spent in the sparsely-populated, Washington Square Starbucks, drinking coffee and feigning productivity
- Developing an insatiable appetite for falafel over rice with offensive amounts of white sauce and barbeque sauce from Kazi Halal on 14th street, resulting in a four day stretch of back-to-back consumptions
- Sunday afternoon excursion with The Paradigmatic Man:
- Wonderfully sunny stroll up 6th Ave. to Pars Grill & Bar for an exceedingly satisfying lunch of kuku sabzi, kashke bademjan, barg, albaloo polo, ghormeh sabzi and doogh (fun savory yogurt drinks); entailing a stream of comfortably fluid conversation, as always
- Attending a hilariously topical lecture on women's rights at Revolution Books on 26th & 7th, in which the two of us sat in stasis for several hours, doodling on Communist literature, fiddling with our iPhones and prodding at the contents of adjacent bookshelves, through the proceeding Q&A and group discussion--the event ended with said Man approaching speaker Sunsara Taylor with some pointedly pre-determined questions, while I attended to various leftover food products and leather jackets, finding myself the target of a series of Communist activists (certain of which may or may not have been hitting on me) who attempted to lock me into a series of regular meetings for certain radical causes, before the two of us slipped away into relative freedom
- The most perfect of possible introductions between said Paradigmatic Man and the Cunt Castle's goings-ons: leisurely tea-drinking with Man, myself and Dana, paired with good conversation, in which I hazarded an explanation of Inga Muscio's "Cunt" before lending said literary work to the Man, and finding our evening broken up with the sudden appearance of an ever-enthusiastic A. Sikes, who proceeded to entreat our collective assistance in determining which dresses were most suited to SXSW in their general length and style--this whole encounter ended with the most fantastic of possible Sims-encounters, in which, as I escorted the Man to the elevator, a Dana and her bearded Will Notini were revealed by a set of opening doors: alpha-male Will glances conspicuously at said Male, Male imparts a glance in his direction as well (completely innocent and unknowing of the "masculine significance" of this exchange) only to board the elevator, eternally unaware as to the many, far-reaching implications of this encounter
- Spending my Wednesday evening over spring break getting drunk on Blue Moon beers in pod A by my lonesome, scoffing down falafel over rice from the Kazi Halal cart outside Palladium, finishing up "The Jesus Guy" and entertaining some portion of "Islam: What the West Needs To Know," (pausing only to converse with a distant Kristen Drewes, and to visit the Food Emporium for macaroni and cheese with white sauce, Puffins cereal, Oprah magazine, and cottage cheese) whilst perusing Wikipedia's Islam page and listening to an obscene amount of Mariah Carey--DEATH AND DESTRUCTION ABOUND
- Having established the Indian wet lab man from Warren Weaver Hall as a very concerted character, to the point that I feel mildly uncomfortable if I go more than a day without encountering him outside CIMS, either smoking a cigarette or retrieving a coffee from Starbucks with milk and a lot of sugar
mar 16 2011 ∞
oct 13 2011 +
oct 13 2011 +