SHAVUAH TOV.

I never got a full count of her siblings, but I met all of them, and their pets, and their friends, and their grandparents and great aunt, and their neighbors. Shabbat at Sareet's house was unbelievable and yet somehow exactly what I had envisioned when I signed on: tons of family, lots of sephardi-style praying, intense conversations about philosophy, politics, and Judaism, and way more food than I could even begin to eat. For the two big shabbat meals there were 20some of us sitting at this immensely long table. Impossible to even sample half of the dishes without stuffing myself out of my mind. Goodness, well worth the 4-hour drive each way on consecutive days.

UP AGAINST THE WALL! DO IT! DO IT NOW! ok, so the ushers weren't quite that pushy, but Dr. Cook, (yes, Dr. Cook) who also happened to be there and who gave us a ride to friendship heights after the show, told us we missed a speech where the ushers issued various ultimatums and threatened to therow the whole lot of the standing-room folk out of the theater should they be not heeded. Of course we were late, so we missed the usher's speech, but she made her position clear in the way she took our tickets. Hamlet...i'm not even going to venture to comment on the play itself, which just gets better and better as I encounter it more...excellently staged, but with thoroughly overbearing music. Almost as if the theater were showing off it's impressive new sound system. Chillin with Alina, Johns, and Julia at Silver Diner until the waitress took away our salt and pepper shakers. mmm. I think shabbos in New Jersey. Somehow it feels rather unplanned and impulsive, even though I've been considering it for a few weeks. SHABBAT SHALOM LEKULAM.

1:30pm: road block forces me to take a detour.
1:35pm: My car gets overtaken and ransacked by men in orange vests. Is this southeast DC? NO. This my backyard: Bethesda. This is NIH.
Ok, so the men in orange vests did not physically or sexually abuse me or my car; they took nothing, and yes they bore some resemblence to security guards, but all that is somewhat irrelevant. I feel violated. They looked in my trunk. And under my hood. MY HOOD!

Here are the

TOP 5

comparisons my hair has evoked since I began growing it, back in September of '00

1. Prince Charming. Courtesy of Ester this evening. What a sugar-baby she is. I haven't been compared to Prince Charming since I was four years old.
2. Bob Dylan -- this was my former roomate's first semester girl-friend Audrey, who sipped whiskey like a professional and gave me my first cello lessons.
3. A Muppet. This from Sareet, who keeps me spiritual at Brown, and might even cook me Shabbos dinner in New Jersey this weekend. This one would be higher on the list, but she couldn't determine which Muppet, and as a huge Muppet fan, I was dissappointed.
4. Slugs. "Wait JUST A SECOND here!" you protest. "Slugs don't have hair!" Indeed they don't. I believe my current roomate's girlfriend Elaine was comparing each of my curls to slugs--"beautiful slugs" she was quick to add, with much emphasis.
5. Shirley Temple --I'm not sure who delivered this, but, well, I've always wanted to have an alcoholic beverage named after me.

NOT FEATURED ON THE LIST: sideshow bob, which I have gotten repeatedly. as much as I revel at being compared to the evil genius of the Simpsons-world, I just don't think my hair is that cool.

I almost broke into tears when the philosopher said farewell to his coat.

La Boheme was great. It was my brother's first opera--we stood together in the back at little red velvet podiums that displayed subtitles as the opera progressed. He enjoyed it too--a lot more than he thought he would. I love the Italian language, my mouth just seems to enjoy making all the sounds a lot more than it enjoyed those funky French vowels...I was actually able to follow most of the Italian in the opera /|_|\ having the English translation for guidance was crucial though, given how difficult it is to make out operetic articulation in any language. Maybe I just really disliked Cabaret because I had few qualms standing in the silent darkness for three hours at La Boheme.

Now home, back from New York. Looking forward to seeing good people. Oh so wonderlificous to be with my brother this weekend for some extended period of time. --we had good open conversations about our lives. Quality time with the folks as well, and with Jordan "Nietzche" Bleicher and Rebecca "Mango" Rindler. New York is beautiful in the winter.

maybe I'm hypersocialized, or thoroughly egotistical, but I can't quite understand what drives people to black themselves out and put the spotlight elsewhere, on people whom they don't know and with whom they don't interact. Hm, where am I going with this? A critique of social science, television, movies, theater? Probably not. I probably just thoroughly disliked Cabaret. That mainly had to due with the fact that it is a thoroughly bastardized work of art: a revival of a musical that adapted a play that adapted a book--each adapation adding its own semi-disjointed twist, leaving a musical with a cast of undeveloped characters performing weak musical numbers, trying vainly to convey some social commentary through interesting yet elusive symbolic framework. Eh. Because I liked it so little my mind fell to thinking about the audience members, all of whom payed upwards of a hundred dollars to stop their lives for several hours, sit perfectly still and silent, immersed in darkness, effaced. We'll see if I feel better about all of this tonight at La Boheme.

Did you know that it could take almost six hours to get to Manhattan? I didn't, but I found out yesterday in the car with my parents. weekend before Christmas=not a great weekend to drive anywhere, much less Manhattan. Hit this city with ass thoroughly numb, kidnapped my brother and his roomate Ariel Glasner (now very nervously preparing to board a plane for Paris) and went for a serious run around Central Park. Yum, running makes me feel so good. What makes me feel perhaps even better? Intense food. Glorious sushi dinner with Ethan and the folks saw me guzzling wasabi and pickled ginger.... and an occassional piece of raw fish. Chilled with Ethan's friend Dave afterward--who knew young journalists could actually be successful? Then to a swing club, where I mainly sat and talked with my brother. He's doing well for himself here. Granted he's got a lifestyle going, especially career-wise, that I couldn't even imagine entering into or maintaining, but he's come into it beautifully. Tonight: South Indian food again? A play--Proof? Or a musical--Cabaret? Tomorrow night La Boheme. I'm excited. I have had some excellent opera experiences thus far...

ORGASMIC

lost control at Madras Palace, with the most stimulating South Indian food, coming back from Sugarloaf Mountain with two of my favorite brownies, Ben Bregman and Alex Alper. Exploration and crisp air, climbing and talking sex/organic chemistry. Back home to catch (in order of appearance) Ilana, Nomi, Maya, my Dad, and Dan for a Carlebach kabbalat shabbat at Kesher Israel in G-town.
Tonight shabbos dinner with the folks, and then Duke-Brown party hosted by Emily and Robin. Tomorrow to my brother in the city with my parents. What could I say for myself but
mmmmm......

nomi's bold assertion of the night, before she later qualified it:

All of medicine, and science too, is bullshit.

This coming from a physics major.
I have much love and respect for science and medicine, but do question the absolute and superior sense of authority that the scientific aura evokes. The more I learn in these fields, the more they instill in me a sense of awe for the world around me. But I reject the proposition that what science brings to the table is the real deal, somehow tangible and indisputable in its representation of reality. Step into a science course of any level, or pick up a scientific text of any kind, and you are immediately placed in an idealized situation: fiction takes on a new form, with different rules and a new language. But science is fiction no less; it cannot make a more genuine claim to representing reality than a work of great art or literature, a historical or philosophical treatise.
Enough of reducing everything to everything for tonight. Sleepytime.

HOME

sigh. wow. what a ride. in a feat nothing short of miraculous, we fit 4 people, 6 bags, my bass, and my bass amp into the lil' ol' Camry '88, and busted it through Providence, New York, Philly, Baltimore, and DC. Drove more in one trip today than I've ever driven before in my life. And oh goodness, such moments

Lev trying to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark on my laptop, thoroughly disconcerted that the timing of visual and audio--which I managed to rig to play through the car stereo--was so drastically off. Zach sitting beside me up front trying to engage Lev in a discussion of economics. Max, who earlier had announced he had not slept for several nights, passed out in the back, oblivious entirely to the blaring Indiana Jones theme.

listening to me first and the gimme-gimme's cover the night away with max and watching the growing crescent moon turn white to orange to red and seem to burn up in the phill-e sky.

this is going to be an interesting break, no doubt. I have my research project, but my partner in crime Dr. Swerdlow left abruptly for Indonesia today,
giving me the machete and inviting me to clear the new path
friends oh
friends and family I go
back to NYC to see my brother this weekend.
much to learn much to read
i must ring the dusty bells of neglected muscles
and break in the newly tuned-pianos.
way too horny for my own good.


||||||||||||||We'll mix good things in the soup and see what rises.||||||||||||||||||||

DONE

FINALS: dominated
HOME: Where I am headed, some time tomorrow, with three good Jewish boys: Lev Nelson (T-NECK), Zach Teutsch (PHIL-E) and Max Levine (MD). The car will be OH-SO-PACKED. I am not sure if my bass equipment will fit, we'll have to see. I really have no clue how much my car can hold. For all those interested, the waiting list for a spot in my car, should room miraculously emerge, goes in order of request:
#1 Jackie's Textbook Bag (MD)
#2 Deborah Lapidus (VA)
#3 Mike Rozensher (NY)

EMBARASSMENT: Handed in an intense final paper for my seminar in the teaching of writing--CHOCK FULL of typos. Drenched by repeatedly crashing waves of nausea when my professor gave the paper back during our final conference, I could do little other than apologize and wander out with my tail between my legs. Really pisses me off. It could have been an excellent paper.

I MIGHT HAVE LEARNED SOMETHING: suspicion triggered by post-finals, sleepless, semi-euphoric state, yet to be confirmed.

Even though I've been done with finals for over a day now, I still feel thoroughly fucked up. I might need a while to recuperate. Or maybe just one decent night of sleep. That still hasn't happened.

a bird came down the walk
he did not know I saw

I'm getting excited about going home. I'm ready to don the ruby slippers and start tapping them together. The past two weeks have tested my stamina and focus:-||- the chem marathon bled right into my James and Conrad paper about narrative truth, which bled right into studying for my Neuro exam. Fatigued so fatigued. Am I excited for home?

am |I| excited to go home.
really too tired to tell. this semester has not met my expectations, but things have been getting better so I don't know if I"m excited to leave. Ready? probably? usually? readiness is all, no?

The Pixies deserve more of my love.

WHERE IS MY MIND?

I took the longest test of my life today. I studied more for this chemistry test than I can remember studying for any test--and I'm not even confident that I performed well at all. Regardless of whether I succeeded on the test, I got a lot out of the intensity of my studying...I'm frankly feeling rather drained and sated, and it has taken quite a bit of will power to get myself to focus in on the tasks now at hand. I was able to galvanize (a process of coating iron with zinc to prevent its oxidation and resulting rust) my literary impressionists paper on Henry James's Turn of the Screw and Joseph Conrad's Lord Jim and send that in tonight, and now I am onward and upward into the brain--my neuroscience exam is monday and I have much learning to do.
Although I am definitely finding finals period fulfilling this year so far, I am getting more and more excited at my imminent return to DC, to friends and family and much DC goodness, some relaxation with good people,a nd some learning--Jackie has promised to teach me to dance and Ester has offered her counsel on HTML, and I'm going to be doing some work with Dr. Swerdlow again...maybe I will drive to the beach and polar bear, or something. Mainly, I'm babbling, and being rather incoherent, because all of my brain energy has been going into finals, and I'm excited for next week when I can spread my brain out more after I am done....

I took the longest test of my life today. I studied more for this chemistry test than I can remember studying for any test--and I'm not even confident that I performed well at all. Regardless of whether I succeeded on the test, I got a lot out of the intensity of my studying...I'm frankly feeling rather drained and sated, and it has taken quite a bit of will power to get myself to focus in on the tasks now at hand. I was able to galvanize (a process of coating iron with zinc to prevent its oxidation and resulting rust) my literary impressionists paper on Henry James's Turn of the Screw and Joseph Conrad's Lord Jim and send that in tonight, and now I am onward and upward into the brain--my neuroscience exam is monday and I have much learning to do.
Although I am definitely finding finals period fulfilling this year so far, I am getting more and more excited at my imminent return to DC, to friends and family and much DC goodness, some relaxation with good people,a nd some learning--Jackie has promised to teach me to dance and Ester has offered her counsel on HTML, and I'm going to be doing some work with Dr. Swerdlow again...maybe I will drive to the beach and polar bear, or something. Mainly, I'm babbling, and being rather incoherent, because all of my brain energy has been going into finals, and I'm excited for next week when I can spread my brain out more after I am done....

I took the longest test of my life today. I studied more for this chemistry test than I can remember studying for any test--and I'm not even confident that I performed well at all. Regardless of whether I succeeded on the test, I got a lot out of the intensity of my studying...I'm frankly feeling rather drained and sated, and it has taken quite a bit of will power to get myself to focus in on the tasks now at hand. I was able to galvanize (a process of coating iron with zinc to prevent its oxidation and resulting rust) my literary impressionists paper on Henry James's Turn of the Screw and Joseph Conrad's Lord Jim and send that in tonight, and now I am onward and upward into the brain--my neuroscience exam is monday and I have much learning to do.
Although I am definitely finding finals period fulfilling this year so far, I am getting more and more excited at my imminent return to DC, to friends and family and much DC goodness, some relaxation with good people,a nd some learning--Jackie has promised to teach me to dance and Ester has offered her counsel on HTML, and I'm going to be doing some work with Dr. Swerdlow again...maybe I will drive to the beach and polar bear, or something. Mainly, I'm babbling, and being rather incoherent, because all of my brain energy has been going into finals, and I'm excited for next week when I can spread my brain out more after I am done....

So closes day 5 of my marathon lovemaking session with chemistry, and I am happy to note that chemistry this past week has finally begun to aquire the degree of conceptual intensity and philisophical weight that I had expected at the outset and searched for all along the way. I am typing from my new bedside office, perched on my lofted bed, my head just a few inches from the cieling, my head wobbling rather unsteadily and threatening to fall face-first into the keys of my recently purchased laptop, the centerpiece of the bedside office. I now don't actually need to get out of my bed some six feet above the floor, to use phone, IM, or email, to play music, to write papers or, most importantly, to post. A fridge will make its way up here at some point. I'm not sure where all this is going. I have way too much space as it is in this room, my absentee roomate sleeping always at his girlfriend's house and I with a huge converted lounge all to myself. Yet somehow I keep seeming to invent methods to conserve space that I don't need. Further, I am way to energized most of the day to stay on or in my bed for any extended period of time, so I'm not sure what the idea is with this bedside office.....
And now for something completely different. My friend Ian Gray (to be distinguished from Ian Budish, my absentee roomate) is in the midst of a week long fast he has undertaken as his final project for Scandanavian Literature class, modeling his endeavor on that of a Scandanavian writer who found starvation critical to the writing process. He has consumed nothing but water and juice since Saturday. I wish him well. My bed is now threatening to swallow me up, irrevesibly, and in defiance of all state functions.

DAY 4: THE CHEM CRUSADE CONTINUES:
Days and days of continuous studying may have rendered me totally delirious, but I think I am enjoying studying for this final. During the semester the material was explained way too poorly for me to get much out of it. The 10th or so time through, this material begins to seem coherent, and I can start putting the pieces together. Ate ridiculously today--so ridiculously, in fact, that my entire body aches. You don't even want to know the combinations of foods I put into my system today.
Or maybe you do...
You sick bastards. I'm not telling.

I keep making modifications to the setup of my room to maximize space. This effort makes absolutely no sense considering the fact that I live in a room by myself that is twice the size of a typical double, with an attached dining room and kitchen. Every day I seem to find some way to use space better and make the room bigger. Perhaps I am planning to start a commune in my room, and have been making preparations. Hm. Happy third night.

I live on the corner of Thayer and Meeting streets. I will not even venture into a discussion of Thayer--books could be written on the complex dynamics of Thayer street culture. But I would like to bring to light some peculiar facts about meeting street.

EXHIBIT A:
Viva Via IV
is the only pizza place I know whose name suggests that it is a sequel.
It is also the only pizza place I know that has a Providence Police car parked accross the street from it late night every night.
Definitely the only pizza place I know of with a bouncer after hours,
and what looks like a large abandoned factory attached to the back of it.
And now that I think of it, what ever happened to Via Via I, II, and III?
Perhaps most importantly, the only pizza place I know of that dares to put eggplant, spinach, and feta cheese on one pizza. Worth a try, but step delicately so as not to upset the owners.

EXHIBIT B: Brown's Biomedical Center. Enormous. The side that faces me looks perfectly normal considering it's size, but on the other side, well.....
There are walls that must extend several hundred feet in the air with ABSOLUTELY no windows to be seen. The only break in the enormous brick wall structure is a set of forty foot tall garage doors, which never open. What could possibly be entering the Biomed Center that is 40 feet tall? Ask the owners of Via Via IV if you dare.

HAPPY CHANNUKAH ALL

Hillel Channukah party was packed; it kicked ass. Enjoyed homey feelings and good Jew-ness. Today was a day of much chem. I might have even learned something in that class this semester. The concepts are so cool, even if the format of the class is beyond tedious. So unfortunate chem is treated as a "weeding out" class and not a "cultivating-in" class.

This semester has been a social failure.
It would be ridiculous to let that depress me, wouldn't it? Yes ridiculous. But no doubt a failure. So many degenerated relationships. What is that KEvin? It's never too late to get it back? perhaps.
Realization of the day, new to me but doubtless old to most others: Sublime's "What I Got"=excellent rip-off of Beatles' "Lady Madonna"

Question of the day: Which governments paid the Beatles to write revolution?

I wake up. Immediately I ask myself: "Did that actually happen?" This is a sure sign I have done Friday night justice. Last night I attended Brown's annual naked party, hosted by one of the co-operative houses. Having no real previous naked experience, I approached the affair with the vague suspicion that I might feel awkward and uncomfortable, but that I would learn a lot in the process. The whole affair blew my expectations away. I was naked, and so were a couple hundred Brown students, the lounge singer, the pianist, the house DJ, the people at the door, the people serving drinks--absolutely everyone on the premesis.
Yet somehow the whole situation felt strangely comfortable for me--the expectation of nakedness was so thoroughly infused in the atmosphere that the most awkward moments were being clothed and marching through the naked throngs on the way to the undressing room.

The party as a whole did not follow conventions that were different from clothed parties. In many ways, the scene was just like the scene at any party--any really, really good party at least--except that people weren't wearing clothes. The situation wasn't any more sexual. There's no reason why it should have been--difficulties taking off clothes isn't usually the driving factor behind whether people hook up or not. I think the unconventional and thoroughly absurd nature of the situation made people more friendly and festive, more determined to have a good time. Like at all the parties I have enjoyed, there was excellent live musical selection, good mixed company, and lots of dancing. I am thoroughly upset that I have to wait another year for the next one.
Also, a note: out of deference for my desire to attend and her desire not to see me naked, Jackie did not attend this year's naked party.
Tonight: study chem like a vandal and jam in the lounge?

Ari will be

NAKED

Tomorrow Night
(not here. check back for details)

I learned stuff today. I don't think that happened every day this semester, and that pisses me off
as if I somehow managed to dive so vigorously into the pool that I didn't get wet.
But today was good. Today there was some saturation. Today there might have even been catalysis.
Although most of my chemistry course is frenetic glorified algebra amidst semi-fanatical premedicals, the concepts are big and when we talk about them I get into them. I don't know how easy it is for me to believe in catalysts, which everyone seems to take for granted. Can anything cause change without being effected itself? By Prof Sweigart's definition today, I would say that the burning bush that appeared before Moses might qualify--burning unconsumed.
Am I even looking for a catalysts? Who knows. Sleepsleep.

It began with a murdered tree, lying uprooted beside its sidewalk-square sized home near the pizza place/mafia front accross the street from my dorm. Only one thing could be done in response to this tragic death, and the idea came immediately into my head.
FIRE
To mark the cremation, musical performers, fire tenders, and drunken dancers were gathered, and an extensive ceremony commenced, only to be ended prematurely just short of 5 hours later by the Brown police.
------------
------------
Five times I have no body temperature. Not a low body temperature. Not even a corpse-level body temperature. None. The nurse at the blood drive reacted first with bewilderment, and after repeated trials, brought in her supervisor, who embarked upon a double-blind study of thermometer efficacy, measuring her and my temperature simultaniously with randomly chosen thermometers. Thermometers seemed to work on everyone but me. Still nothing. Heated debate ensued. Should Ari be able to give blood if his ability to maintain a body temperature--any body temperature--cannot be demonstrated? At this point, as I often do, I began to get impatient with the process, persuaded the nurses to feel the heat radiating from my body and understand that I did in fact retain measurable heat in my body. They were eventually persuaded, and my contribution accepted, with mystery left unsolved.

I spent much of the day talking to good people, which was smack-in-the-face refreshing after Sunday's 15 hour non-stop homebound work marathon. Exit the head, circulate in the bloodstream, feel the pulse.