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Jun. 26th, 2005 10:50 pmWhat a weekend.
On Friday at work we had a teleconference with our extended LIGO family. We'd posted a little note on the "e-log" (think "academic livejournal") and the others critiqued our approach. They were tough but fair, although they seemed generally sceptical that the approach could ever be convincing--as if their scepticism were tempered largely by polite deference to a more senior colleague's insistance of trying something. My confidence in the scheme, though, is growing.
And then we said some short-term goodbyes. Stefanos, my partner in this scientific mumbojumbo, is off to Greece for the next month, and our advisor is going somewhere too. Canada? Fermilab? I don't remember. So I'm all alone at UR for the next couple weeks. I'm thinking of buying a laptop computer and relocating to Montreal.
The last friday of the month meant it was time for Critical Mass and we had a good ride. I was worried because only eight people showed up at University of Rochester at the appointed time. But eleven more joined us at the downtown meeting and so the ride was quite successful. We had a bunch of people who said that they had seen the announcements over the last couple months, and finally were able to come out this time. So our persistance is paying off! Ben (my housemate) in particular seemed thrilled; it was great to have him along. It was also thrilling riding through the warm Rochester streets, especially down Park Avenue, whose restaurants have brought out the outdoor seating. Critical Mass is like a parade--we received attention and applause. I handed out propaganda for the rocwiki.
Afterwards we rode up Exchange to S. Plymouth and gave a short tour of Ant Hill Co-op to some interested people. CM is turning out to be an excellent way of meeting people. Ben and I were famished then, so we sought out a Haitian restaurant< recommended to us by Ross.
The neighborhood in which we live (colloquially called "the 19th ward," although that is only one of several neighborhoods in this quadrant) is almost entirely black. Official statistics are that it is 75% black, but I think that number is much too low. This restaurant was deep in the 19th ward and entirely awesome. The menu included everything from oxtails to fried plantains, and collard greens were the specialty, as the proprietor explained in a thick haitian accent (I would have guessed Jamaican had the place not been advertised as Haitian). While we waited for our food we chatted with the grandfatherly father-in-law of the proprietor, and became acquainted with his extended family... I ran across the street to pick up some Red Stripe (jamaican beer--the only label sold other than budweiser at that particular establishment)to wash down the mountain of savory goodness we were delivered (Ben had the red snapper; I, the jerk chicken) in the hot, hot ROC City summer night. The heat and the accents and the food--it was a dreamy atmosphere exotic to me.
In the morning Ross and I went out to the Public Market for our co-op shopping workshift. For twenty bucks we picked up the house's vegetable supply for the week and some other odds and ends, like a dozen bagles ($3). The public market is a beautiful thing in ROC. If you haven't—go.
We got back just in time for me to hop in Amol's car for a kayaking. trip with him and Ben. We rented kayaks at some place on 404 ("Bay Creek Paddling") and kayaked up the marshland of Irondequoit Creek, beautiful, verdant, and vibrant these days. Afterwards, hungry for some frozen custard but also for lunch, we set out towards the lake and found some place advertising Thai Food, Burgers, Hots and Ice Cream. As if taylor made for us! Amol swung a U-turn, parked, and we sauntered into the place and ordered up some curries, iced tea, and a sundae. The owner, a Thai lady, commenting about the weather, said, "It's like Thailand out there!" The waitress, a caucasian lady, with some pride commented, about our food, "I cooked it!" It was pretty good.
Drove over to Ontario Beach Park, which I keep calling Ocean Beach Park by mistake, a reference to good old OB in San Diego. Saw the enormous bulking double-oh-seven-villian-esque catameran Fast Ferry exercise a U-turn in-place in the port. Was interviewed very briefly on camera about it, too, by a very distracted news reporter (she had missed seeing the boat come into port--totally silent as it was). All along the shore were yachts and families with barbecues and everybody jumping in the water, right in front of all of Monroe County's "Swimming Prohibited" signs and the sewer outlet of this city.
Spent the evening relaxing on the porch, in pajamas on a beanbag chair, imbibing rum and lime. It was almost Properly Bohemian. almost.
Dinner tonight at my aunt/uncle/cousins' house. Bicycled home through dusk and the forests of Genesee Valley Park, the parkscape illuminated by the little pulses of fireflies, like little green LED's in the air (!). I inhaled a few, too, I think.
Today we brainstormed up a Mission for Ant Hill Co-op, to be distilled down into a Mission Statement. It's almost like this thing won't come crashing down all at once. Almost like we really will create a co-op to last a hundred years. I hope so.
On Friday at work we had a teleconference with our extended LIGO family. We'd posted a little note on the "e-log" (think "academic livejournal") and the others critiqued our approach. They were tough but fair, although they seemed generally sceptical that the approach could ever be convincing--as if their scepticism were tempered largely by polite deference to a more senior colleague's insistance of trying something. My confidence in the scheme, though, is growing.
And then we said some short-term goodbyes. Stefanos, my partner in this scientific mumbojumbo, is off to Greece for the next month, and our advisor is going somewhere too. Canada? Fermilab? I don't remember. So I'm all alone at UR for the next couple weeks. I'm thinking of buying a laptop computer and relocating to Montreal.
The last friday of the month meant it was time for Critical Mass and we had a good ride. I was worried because only eight people showed up at University of Rochester at the appointed time. But eleven more joined us at the downtown meeting and so the ride was quite successful. We had a bunch of people who said that they had seen the announcements over the last couple months, and finally were able to come out this time. So our persistance is paying off! Ben (my housemate) in particular seemed thrilled; it was great to have him along. It was also thrilling riding through the warm Rochester streets, especially down Park Avenue, whose restaurants have brought out the outdoor seating. Critical Mass is like a parade--we received attention and applause. I handed out propaganda for the rocwiki.
Afterwards we rode up Exchange to S. Plymouth and gave a short tour of Ant Hill Co-op to some interested people. CM is turning out to be an excellent way of meeting people. Ben and I were famished then, so we sought out a Haitian restaurant< recommended to us by Ross.
The neighborhood in which we live (colloquially called "the 19th ward," although that is only one of several neighborhoods in this quadrant) is almost entirely black. Official statistics are that it is 75% black, but I think that number is much too low. This restaurant was deep in the 19th ward and entirely awesome. The menu included everything from oxtails to fried plantains, and collard greens were the specialty, as the proprietor explained in a thick haitian accent (I would have guessed Jamaican had the place not been advertised as Haitian). While we waited for our food we chatted with the grandfatherly father-in-law of the proprietor, and became acquainted with his extended family... I ran across the street to pick up some Red Stripe (jamaican beer--the only label sold other than budweiser at that particular establishment)to wash down the mountain of savory goodness we were delivered (Ben had the red snapper; I, the jerk chicken) in the hot, hot ROC City summer night. The heat and the accents and the food--it was a dreamy atmosphere exotic to me.
In the morning Ross and I went out to the Public Market for our co-op shopping workshift. For twenty bucks we picked up the house's vegetable supply for the week and some other odds and ends, like a dozen bagles ($3). The public market is a beautiful thing in ROC. If you haven't—go.
We got back just in time for me to hop in Amol's car for a kayaking. trip with him and Ben. We rented kayaks at some place on 404 ("Bay Creek Paddling") and kayaked up the marshland of Irondequoit Creek, beautiful, verdant, and vibrant these days. Afterwards, hungry for some frozen custard but also for lunch, we set out towards the lake and found some place advertising Thai Food, Burgers, Hots and Ice Cream. As if taylor made for us! Amol swung a U-turn, parked, and we sauntered into the place and ordered up some curries, iced tea, and a sundae. The owner, a Thai lady, commenting about the weather, said, "It's like Thailand out there!" The waitress, a caucasian lady, with some pride commented, about our food, "I cooked it!" It was pretty good.
Drove over to Ontario Beach Park, which I keep calling Ocean Beach Park by mistake, a reference to good old OB in San Diego. Saw the enormous bulking double-oh-seven-villian-esque catameran Fast Ferry exercise a U-turn in-place in the port. Was interviewed very briefly on camera about it, too, by a very distracted news reporter (she had missed seeing the boat come into port--totally silent as it was). All along the shore were yachts and families with barbecues and everybody jumping in the water, right in front of all of Monroe County's "Swimming Prohibited" signs and the sewer outlet of this city.
Spent the evening relaxing on the porch, in pajamas on a beanbag chair, imbibing rum and lime. It was almost Properly Bohemian. almost.
Dinner tonight at my aunt/uncle/cousins' house. Bicycled home through dusk and the forests of Genesee Valley Park, the parkscape illuminated by the little pulses of fireflies, like little green LED's in the air (!). I inhaled a few, too, I think.
Today we brainstormed up a Mission for Ant Hill Co-op, to be distilled down into a Mission Statement. It's almost like this thing won't come crashing down all at once. Almost like we really will create a co-op to last a hundred years. I hope so.
