With the new year come desires for old memories. I still half want to remember the accident. The past six weeks and all my injuries and trials resulted from an event that, as far as I'm concerned, never happened. Perhaps I went into shock immediately after the car struck and broke my femur. But people spoke to me in English when I woke up. Since I had no identification on me, I must have been conscious and babbling in my native language at some point.
How can I stand living in this condition thanks to a moment that my mind has sliced out of the timeline of my memory?
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
[T.S. Eliot]
Fun fact: I am five hours past my cripple bedtime and can hardly force myself to go to bed. For the first time in a while, there are many reasons to be happy; I won't bother to try to compartmentalize them.
Saturday, December 31, 2005
a long december
It's done. And now I can greet the new year with a little less baggage. But some burdens won't be leaving my shoulders anytime soon.
Friday, December 30, 2005
nightmares
Raggedy bands of skaters launching coordinated rebellions, some led by women, while families huddle in their splintered, roofless wooden hovels, listening to salvaged radios and special-issue CDs from indie pseudo-political labels. A Yale graduation lost in labyrinths of vendors selling worthless "art" for such high prices that all a robed graduate can do is deface them drunkenly while others shell out for paper cutouts of Branford. An aerial journey from pier and river mouth following liquid and concrete veins of civilization into an anticlimactic suburban California downtown whitewashed by dead sunshine. A scatological-mechanical gift. And in the penthouse of a hospital, a stalagmite- and stalactite-filled crypt for cosmetic treatment in which disaster, perhaps due to terrorist intervention, befalls a client as I watch horrified, less than a fly on the wall.
Why do you haunt me, nightmares? The hospital narcotics are long gone, the flashbacks have faded to oblivion, the stitch scars have ossified, the wounds are healing. The phone has never beeped at night. Leave me to the labyrinths of my conscious conscience... take pity and leave me alone.
[Sign in the deserted neighborhood and amusement park at Pleasure Beach, a stone's throw from the industrial shell of Bridgeport, by T. Ng]
Why do you haunt me, nightmares? The hospital narcotics are long gone, the flashbacks have faded to oblivion, the stitch scars have ossified, the wounds are healing. The phone has never beeped at night. Leave me to the labyrinths of my conscious conscience... take pity and leave me alone.
[Sign in the deserted neighborhood and amusement park at Pleasure Beach, a stone's throw from the industrial shell of Bridgeport, by T. Ng]
Thursday, December 29, 2005
consuelo
Many people have asked me about the origin on my online name, consuehlo. To be honest, I once read a Richard Peck novel with a secondary character named Consuelo and decided that I liked the name. I'm sure the fact that she was long-haired, sophisticated, and gorgeous had no bearing on my decision. Friends unaware of this origan have come up with all sorts of ideas, as well as questions about why I chose a predominatly male name. I began to wonder if there were in fact no women named Consuelo, and Peck had just gotten it wrong... to my advantage, as opposing gender typfication is another activity I enjoy.
Well, tonight I came across a famous lady by the name of Consuelo Vanderbilt. According to a Wikipedia article, "Consuelo Vanderbilt (March 2, 1877 - December 6, 1964) was a member of the United States Vanderbilt family seen as the penultimate marital prize of the Victorian age and an international emblem for socially advantageous marriages." Wow, what a namesake. So much for my little battle.
Well, tonight I came across a famous lady by the name of Consuelo Vanderbilt. According to a Wikipedia article, "Consuelo Vanderbilt (March 2, 1877 - December 6, 1964) was a member of the United States Vanderbilt family seen as the penultimate marital prize of the Victorian age and an international emblem for socially advantageous marriages." Wow, what a namesake. So much for my little battle.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
riot
Last night I dreamt of a torn family on the beach and of a schoolyard that turned into a war zone. In a moment of sheer terror, I woke to the cold 6 AM morning and lay shivering until I lapsed into another dream by the beach... wandering through an almost-abandoned school.
Halfhearted apologies for the barrage of lyrics, but as I don't expect people to actually read this blog, I shall continue to post them shamelessly:
For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and
We’d never comprimise
For the life of me cannot believe
We’d ever die for these sins
We were merely freshman
We’ve tried to wash our hands of all of this
We never talk of our lacking relationships
And how we’re guilt stricken sobbing with our
Heads on the floor
We fell through the ice when we tried not to
Slip, we’d say
I can't be held responsible
'Cause she was touching her face
And I won't be held responsible
She fell in love in the first place
[verve pipe]
Halfhearted apologies for the barrage of lyrics, but as I don't expect people to actually read this blog, I shall continue to post them shamelessly:
For the life of me I cannot remember
What made us think that we were wise and
We’d never comprimise
For the life of me cannot believe
We’d ever die for these sins
We were merely freshman
We’ve tried to wash our hands of all of this
We never talk of our lacking relationships
And how we’re guilt stricken sobbing with our
Heads on the floor
We fell through the ice when we tried not to
Slip, we’d say
I can't be held responsible
'Cause she was touching her face
And I won't be held responsible
She fell in love in the first place
[verve pipe]
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
it's coming down
I am angry. I am so very angry. I am hopping mad. I could kick something, if I was capable of doing it. And that is so very much better than waiting around pining away.
"It's Coming Down" [Cake]
Sure, I have some merciful feelings too.
"It's Coming Down" [Cake]
Sure, I have some merciful feelings too.
wrong
I can see that you've been crying
You can't hide it with a lie
What's the use in you denying
That what you have is wrong?
I heard him promise you forever
But forever's come and gone
Baby, he would say whatever
It takes to keep you blind
To the truth between the lines
Baby, you deserve much better
What's the use in holding on?
Who would ever have imagined that wisdom would lie in sappy old Backstreet Boys lyrics?
You can't hide it with a lie
What's the use in you denying
That what you have is wrong?
I heard him promise you forever
But forever's come and gone
Baby, he would say whatever
It takes to keep you blind
To the truth between the lines
Baby, you deserve much better
What's the use in holding on?
Who would ever have imagined that wisdom would lie in sappy old Backstreet Boys lyrics?
Friday, December 23, 2005
matthaus-passion, iemand?
I think I must be the first person in history to burst into tears thinking I was missing a Herreweghe performance of Bach's St. Matthew's Passion. But in fact, it was the Weihnachts Oratorio! Bah humbug!
Thursday, December 22, 2005
paying rent
Is there no pain anymore that is worthwhile as the price of happiness?
If that's what I truly believe, I am doomed to be forever alone.
If that's what I truly believe, I am doomed to be forever alone.
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
an endless cycle
Back to square one: pain, solitude, helplessness, hopelessness. The struggle to regain the spirit and faith to rebuild. You'd think it'd be so much easier, to have endured so much before. What is this pain in comparison? But you'd also think I'd have learned to stop making the same mistakes. Damn the accident, damn my immobility, damn damn damn damn damn damn damn... so many reasons to believe that the future is bright, so many reasons to dread the next few godforsaken weeks. How will I endure?
Monday, December 19, 2005
utter folly
I can't believe that I still haven't learned. All this time and I still haven't learned. Why am I such a fool? Why do others have to be so foolish? Why can't we all just be cynical enough to prevent disaster? I need to stop needing people. Need to stop needing them altogether. Why can't I anymore? It used to be so easy. But this goddamn broken bone just makes everything worse.I need to get myself out. But I'm not strong enough to get myself out anymore. And that's the greatest tragedy of all. When I gave up my independence, I also gave up the strength to get it back.
The day couldn't have turned out better, could it? World, could you make me hate you even more? If this is all that twenty-three brings, I want to go back to being foolish and innocent and twenty-two, wheeling directly from one disaster towards another while denying it altogether. When you bike into the path of a speeding car, you don't stop until it's too late because you can't see the car. When you run full speed into a dead end, you're the only one at fault when you hit the wall because you saw it the whole time. And of course, of all things I could be crying about--tonight I must cry alone. Perhaps I will always cry alone.
i hate the world #2
So yesterday was great, but today the world said, "Happy birthday, fuck you." I woke up at 6 am because my room was freezing, couldn't fall asleep again, was in pain until noon because it's that time of the month, went to the post office where everyone got in my way and nobody offered to help no matter how difficult things got, was told at the bank that the Christmas check from my relatives would take up to 2 months to be processed, and then crutched home ready to fall over from exhaustion only to discover that a note had just been left this morning informing us that there will be no water drainage for 30 hours starting tomorrow at 9 am. So typically Belgian, and this time I mean it as an insult. This is all very well for someone who can freakin leave the house, but I'm kind of fucking stuck here. Oh, and an ex just called to leave me the most inadvertently infuriating belated birthday message. Yes world, thanks for the warm welcome into year twenty-three.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Sunday, December 11, 2005
hands
And useless in times like these
I won't be made useless
I won't be idle with despair
I will gather myself around my faith
For light does the darkness most fear
My hands are small, I know
But they're not yours, they are my own
But they're not yours, they are my own
And I am never broken
[jewel, hands]
Today I nearly fell apart. Today I picked myself back up. Today I begin anew.
information war!
From Military's Information War Is Vast and Often Secretive in The New York Times:
"The [secret committee formed to wage the new information war in the Muslim world] even examined the president's words. Concerned about alienating Muslims overseas, panel members said, they tried unsuccessfully to stop Mr. Bush from ending speeches with the refrain 'God bless America.'" It's funny, the ways in which Mr. Bush is unwilling to compromise his 'integrity' for the sake of the war on terrorism.
Another interesting line: "It is something of a mystery how [the] Lincoln [Group] came to land more than $25 million in Pentagon contracts in a war zone....In its rejected plan, the company looked to American popular culture for ways to influence new audiences. Lincoln proposed variations of the satirical paper 'The Onion,' and an underground paper to be called 'The Voice,' documents show. And it planned comedies modeled after 'Cheers' and the Three Stooges, with the trio as bumbling wannabe terrorists." Good god.
"The United States Army publishes a sister paper in Afghanistan, also called Peace. An examination of issues from last spring found no bad news." News is almost always bad... positive events are rarely ever newsworthy. Nobody in their right minds would believe a single word from a newspaper that published NO BAD NEWS. HELLO, America... you idiots.
"Another recipient of [the United States Agency for International Development] grants, Voice for Humanity...supplied tens of thousands of audio devices in Iraq and Afghanistan with messages intended to encourage people to vote....It is not clear how effective the messages were or what recipients did with the iPod-like devices, pink for women and silver for men, which could not be altered to play music or other recordings." Thanks for putting our taxpayer money to good, long-term use.
"The [secret committee formed to wage the new information war in the Muslim world] even examined the president's words. Concerned about alienating Muslims overseas, panel members said, they tried unsuccessfully to stop Mr. Bush from ending speeches with the refrain 'God bless America.'" It's funny, the ways in which Mr. Bush is unwilling to compromise his 'integrity' for the sake of the war on terrorism.
Another interesting line: "It is something of a mystery how [the] Lincoln [Group] came to land more than $25 million in Pentagon contracts in a war zone....In its rejected plan, the company looked to American popular culture for ways to influence new audiences. Lincoln proposed variations of the satirical paper 'The Onion,' and an underground paper to be called 'The Voice,' documents show. And it planned comedies modeled after 'Cheers' and the Three Stooges, with the trio as bumbling wannabe terrorists." Good god.
"The United States Army publishes a sister paper in Afghanistan, also called Peace. An examination of issues from last spring found no bad news." News is almost always bad... positive events are rarely ever newsworthy. Nobody in their right minds would believe a single word from a newspaper that published NO BAD NEWS. HELLO, America... you idiots.
"Another recipient of [the United States Agency for International Development] grants, Voice for Humanity...supplied tens of thousands of audio devices in Iraq and Afghanistan with messages intended to encourage people to vote....It is not clear how effective the messages were or what recipients did with the iPod-like devices, pink for women and silver for men, which could not be altered to play music or other recordings." Thanks for putting our taxpayer money to good, long-term use.
Monday, December 05, 2005
and dread the day when dreaming ends
I follow the night,
Can't stand the light.
When will I begin
To live again?
One day I'll fly away,
Leave all this to yesterday.
What more could your love do for me?
When will love be through with me?
Why live life from dream to dream
And dread the day when dreaming ends?
One day I'll fly away,
Leave all this to yesterday.
Why live life from dream to dream
And dread the day when dreaming ends?
One day I'll fly away,
Fly, fly away.
creepy news
Text-messaging driver accused of hitting cyclist
Victim died 2 days after accident; 17-year-old charged with misdemeanor
Victim died 2 days after accident; 17-year-old charged with misdemeanor
Sunday, December 04, 2005
my disaster on google!
After getting a sweet post from Michel saying she'd found my blog on google, I searched on "tiffany ng carillon" and found this on the second page of results:
belgische chocolade
An American student studying the carillon in Belgium had been hit by a car! ...
My Photo: Name:Tiffany Ng: Location:Mechelen, 2800, Belgium. I'm 5' 1/4". ...
carillonista.blogspot.com/ - 50k - 3 Dec 2005 - Cached - Similar pages
How is it possible that the crawler would have picked up that particular sentence in the middle of a random entry?
belgische chocolade
An American student studying the carillon in Belgium had been hit by a car! ...
My Photo: Name:Tiffany Ng: Location:Mechelen, 2800, Belgium. I'm 5' 1/4". ...
carillonista.blogspot.com/ - 50k - 3 Dec 2005 - Cached - Similar pages
How is it possible that the crawler would have picked up that particular sentence in the middle of a random entry?
dreams
I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame
He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came
[Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg, Les Misérables]
I had finally devised the perfect life in a strange land, shielded from pain: a teddy bear to hold and kiss at night, a bicycle that shared all my most profound and exhilarating moments as my other half and soulmate. They are but things; they will never gain the power hurt me. What is to become of me now?
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted
But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame
He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came
[Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schönberg, Les Misérables]
I had finally devised the perfect life in a strange land, shielded from pain: a teddy bear to hold and kiss at night, a bicycle that shared all my most profound and exhilarating moments as my other half and soulmate. They are but things; they will never gain the power hurt me. What is to become of me now?
Tuesday, November 29, 2005
feed the hungry, blow up the coliseum
Photo courtesy of yours truly, ACCESS Inc.From the The New Haven Independent:
FEED THE HUNGRY, BLOW UP THE COLISEUM
Only in New Haven can you do both. City and Connecticut Food Bank officials announced a unique holiday-season promotion Monday: Donate at least six canned goods or non-perishable food items to the food bank, and you'll receive a personalized, engraved seat from the New Haven Coliseum, which the city is in the midst of demolishing. You'll also receive a raffle ticket. If you win the raffle, you get the push the plunger to start the final implosion of the joint (probably) next month. To donate: Visit City Hall weekdays from 9 to 6 or the Food Bank (150 Bradley St., East Haven) weekdays from 8:30 to 4:40. Click here for a list of preferred items. “This is a great opportunity for people to come together and help those working families who are struggling,” Mayor John DeStefano said. “Why the Coliseum? So many people have an emotional attachment to it and this is a perfect way to honor that.”
Man, I would kill for the chance to push that button. Even loving the Coliseum as I do, I need to satisfy my slightly destructive tendencies somehow.
no surprises
A heart that's full up like a landfill,
A job that slowly kills you,
Bruises that won't heal.
You look so tired-unhappy;
Bring down the government,
They don't, they don't speak for us.
I'll take a quiet life,
A handshake, some carbon monoxide,
With no alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
Silent silence.
This is my final fit,
My final bellyache,
With no alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises, please.
Such a pretty house
And such a pretty garden.
No alarms and no surprises,
(Get me outta here)
No alarms and no surprises,
(Get me outta here)
No alarms and no surprises,
(Get me outta here) please.
[radiohead, "no surprises"], the song of my captors.
A job that slowly kills you,
Bruises that won't heal.
You look so tired-unhappy;
Bring down the government,
They don't, they don't speak for us.
I'll take a quiet life,
A handshake, some carbon monoxide,
With no alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
Silent silence.
This is my final fit,
My final bellyache,
With no alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises,
No alarms and no surprises, please.
Such a pretty house
And such a pretty garden.
No alarms and no surprises,
(Get me outta here)
No alarms and no surprises,
(Get me outta here)
No alarms and no surprises,
(Get me outta here) please.
[radiohead, "no surprises"], the song of my captors.
Monday, November 28, 2005
biking in LA
Nobody Bikes in L.A. - But they'd be a lot happier if they did. Maybe I'd consider living in SoCal one day after all. If they build a carillon for me, that is.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
innocence
Last night I dreamed that I was going to an abbey for a birthday party and ended up joining the abbey and taking vows of chastity (never mind that I'm not actually Christian). But somehow I also ended up being responsible for transporting some extremely large cargo that could only be lifted by crane. It was necessary to transport it by plane, but to be economical, I had to rent a car and drive to the destination in Mexico to meet the load, and from there, somehow take the cargo to its destination outside the airport.
That dream morphed into a wedding party at a resort. Immense crowds of people were taking public transport to the event. However, evildoers had planned an attack, and I perished in it with countless others. When I awoke, I found myself at the beginning of the dream with a second chance.
I failed again, but awoke for the third time alive, knowing that this chance could be my last. Working my way backwards on the train lines, switching and sneaking through underground passages, I struggled to lead myself and others to liberty. Finally, we reached our escape, the departure point of the trains... and I awoke to the morning darkness and the pain of my leg.
That dream morphed into a wedding party at a resort. Immense crowds of people were taking public transport to the event. However, evildoers had planned an attack, and I perished in it with countless others. When I awoke, I found myself at the beginning of the dream with a second chance.
I failed again, but awoke for the third time alive, knowing that this chance could be my last. Working my way backwards on the train lines, switching and sneaking through underground passages, I struggled to lead myself and others to liberty. Finally, we reached our escape, the departure point of the trains... and I awoke to the morning darkness and the pain of my leg.
Friday, November 25, 2005
leven te huur
I haven't ever really found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologize that once again I'm not in love
But it's not as if I mind that your heart ain't exactly breaking
It's just a thought, only a thought
If my life is for rent, and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cuz nothing I have is truly mine
Always thought that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what's happened to that dream
Cuz there's really nothing left here to stop me
It's just a thought, only a thought
If my life is for rent, and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cuz nothing I have is truly mine
While my heart is a shield, and I won't let it down
While I am so afraid to fail, so I won't even try
Well how can I say I'm alive?
If my life is for rent, and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cuz nothing I have is true tonight...
[dido, "life for rent"]
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologize that once again I'm not in love
But it's not as if I mind that your heart ain't exactly breaking
It's just a thought, only a thought
If my life is for rent, and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cuz nothing I have is truly mine
Always thought that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what's happened to that dream
Cuz there's really nothing left here to stop me
It's just a thought, only a thought
If my life is for rent, and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cuz nothing I have is truly mine
While my heart is a shield, and I won't let it down
While I am so afraid to fail, so I won't even try
Well how can I say I'm alive?
If my life is for rent, and I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cuz nothing I have is true tonight...
[dido, "life for rent"]
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Saturday, November 12, 2005
amazing
A New Haven police officer established an organization, The Chain Fund, to financially assist cancer patients. Now that's inspirational.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
just google it
"We think there is plenty of opportunity for innovation in the Google economy," Mr. Breyer said.
Key words: "Google economy." Google has become a verb as well as an adjective for the wealth and resources of a region. Frightening, but a friendlier alternative to Microsoft.
Key words: "Google economy." Google has become a verb as well as an adjective for the wealth and resources of a region. Frightening, but a friendlier alternative to Microsoft.
Wednesday, November 02, 2005
wifely
Today's fortune on Orkut.com for me:
You and your wife will be happy in your life together
First line of a self description from Yahoo! Personals in Köln: "Allein sein sucks! Denkst Du auch so?" Languages might sometimes do better without incorporating English words into everyday usage.
The photos of Halloween CritMass in New Haven made it look like an rockin' party... talking with Zoe about biking in NYC only made me miss it even more...
You and your wife will be happy in your life together
First line of a self description from Yahoo! Personals in Köln: "Allein sein sucks! Denkst Du auch so?" Languages might sometimes do better without incorporating English words into everyday usage.
The photos of Halloween CritMass in New Haven made it look like an rockin' party... talking with Zoe about biking in NYC only made me miss it even more...
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
Thursday, October 20, 2005
crapola
while biking had terrifying realization...they're way too much alike. way too much. especially for such an unlikely combination of interests.
other realization was better, much better: it's good to be complete in oneself again.
other realization was better, much better: it's good to be complete in oneself again.
Friday, October 14, 2005
Monday, October 10, 2005
laziness
Another gem from ElmCityCycling:
"Best bike vs. suv story ever -- My friend andy got yelled at by a woman in a Ford Expedition, who was pulling out of a McDonald's drive through lane. She told andy, who was returning from his weekly century, to stop being so lazy and get a driver's license."
Great quote about idleness: "Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time." (Sir J. Lubbock)
Whether I can make myself subscribe to it is a different story, but I'm sure in the right country to try.
"Best bike vs. suv story ever -- My friend andy got yelled at by a woman in a Ford Expedition, who was pulling out of a McDonald's drive through lane. She told andy, who was returning from his weekly century, to stop being so lazy and get a driver's license."
Great quote about idleness: "Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time." (Sir J. Lubbock)
Whether I can make myself subscribe to it is a different story, but I'm sure in the right country to try.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
RAGE
I HATE PAYPAL. I have attempted every freaking permutation of steps I could think of to confirm my address, but it just responds with one inane and irrelevant message after another. I also hate shippers who demand a goddamn confirmed address before they'll ship to you. Bastards, I want to give you my f*cking money, and you won't even take it.
Friday, October 07, 2005
food fight!
Excerpts from World Carfree News #25:
- On September 11, the annual food fight on the Oberbaum Bridge in Berlin kept the cars away. Once a year, autonomous people from the Friedrichshain and Kreutzberg district turn the bridge into a vegetable battlefield. This year, like every year, writes Jason Kirkpatrick, Friedrichshain reigned victorious.
- Bicycle sales in the US reached 19 million last year. The US Chamber of Commerce says more bicycles have been sold than cars over the past 12 months.
- A Galway, Ireland, gardener celebrated World Carfree Day by taking her wheelbarrow to and from work, while 30,000 Critical Mass cyclists rode through the streets of Budapest.
- Eighty-four Chinese cities have banned small cars in their city centres, because they like big cars.
- On September 11, the annual food fight on the Oberbaum Bridge in Berlin kept the cars away. Once a year, autonomous people from the Friedrichshain and Kreutzberg district turn the bridge into a vegetable battlefield. This year, like every year, writes Jason Kirkpatrick, Friedrichshain reigned victorious.
- Bicycle sales in the US reached 19 million last year. The US Chamber of Commerce says more bicycles have been sold than cars over the past 12 months.
- A Galway, Ireland, gardener celebrated World Carfree Day by taking her wheelbarrow to and from work, while 30,000 Critical Mass cyclists rode through the streets of Budapest.
- Eighty-four Chinese cities have banned small cars in their city centres, because they like big cars.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
to pay or not to pay
Spend $99.95 on Virtual PC for Mac from the Apple store before my student discount at Yale ends on September 30, or struggle for untold hours that could have been spent at a paid job getting QEMU to work, but then become a truly bad-ass Mac l33t h4x0r?
Monday, September 19, 2005
bike art
From cicle.org: "Bicycle Remnants Clutter an Urban Landscape, This Time as Art"
Seems like a very TC kind of project. But TC's off making the lives of Katrina victims better.
Seems like a very TC kind of project. But TC's off making the lives of Katrina victims better.
Friday, September 09, 2005
commission-smishm
I'm not sure how much I respect MoveOn.org anymore. Although I participated in and forwarded info on their campaign to stop Bush from shifting the blame for the Katrina fiasco on Louisiana officials, I was utterly disappointed today when I received an email from them citing that emergency FEMA housing was still sitting hundreds of miles away unused, and encouraging us to demand an independent Katrina Commission modeled after the 9/11 Commission, as proposed by Hillary Clinton. While I agree that it's important that such a commission begin its work now if it's going to trace and gather convincing evidence, the fact that emergency housing remains unused screams that a larger problem needs to be addressed: Helping the victims. Imagine that! Saving lives might be more important that pointing fingers--which is what these past two emails have concerned. It's difficult to believe that MoveOn.org is prioritizing its political agenda over actually helping those in need. Sure, clean reputations for a few Louisiana officials might just encourage a few more donations, but in the end, MoveOn.org is expending much of its considerable power to reach the public on telling them who to blame. What good would an investigative commission do, when the culprit is in the White House, in Congress, in FEMA, in Louisiana, in the war in Iraq? How can a Katrina Commission announce that the cause of the disaster was five years of an unwise and continuing Presidency?
Saturday, September 03, 2005
4:20
it's 4:20 am on my last day in the states. it's so awesome to discover who's willing to watch my last american sunrise with me from harkness tower, a la raphi's last day before brazil. i wish i could sleep on my own bed though. casualty of the party is on it instead.
ACCESS: The Architecture Club and City-Environment Studies Society.
ACCESS: The Architecture Club and City-Environment Studies Society.
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
water
i want to cry but won't. everything is still great in the scheme of things. i will let the sky sniffle a little for me instead.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
happy camper
i am a happy camper...literally. camping out in julia's former and lane's future room in the upstairs apartment i'm so fond of anyway. it is like escaping from the transformedness of #2 back to the good old days of #3. what a beautiful realization. the crickets (and an annoyingly yippy dog) chirp outside, but i am away from the hectic life of undergraduates... doug and i are making a 'pilgrimage' (for me) to the harkness state park, on which their mansion sits, after i pick up my visa from new york in the opposite direction. i'll be nearly dead on my feet from traveling by the time i throw my belgian party on friday night, but it'll be worth it.
i'm so happy to see familiar faces... caitlin across the hall, guildfolk everywhere, will on his way to one of his many computer jobs, even chris from TD working as the midwest admissions officer (!). the meeting with highsmith tainted this last week a bit, but i'll get over it. now that everyone's back in town, i can concentrate on my own projects and take a break from administrative work...
YUCMI desperately needs someone like me for PR and to keep the museum open and draw visitors (and potential donors), but susan thinks it's unlikely with my educational/career path, which i suppose might be true.
this was not the entry i intended it to be. i guess i was more carefree yesterday, but too tired/busy to write.
must go downstairs and pack some more.
i'm so happy to see familiar faces... caitlin across the hall, guildfolk everywhere, will on his way to one of his many computer jobs, even chris from TD working as the midwest admissions officer (!). the meeting with highsmith tainted this last week a bit, but i'll get over it. now that everyone's back in town, i can concentrate on my own projects and take a break from administrative work...
YUCMI desperately needs someone like me for PR and to keep the museum open and draw visitors (and potential donors), but susan thinks it's unlikely with my educational/career path, which i suppose might be true.
this was not the entry i intended it to be. i guess i was more carefree yesterday, but too tired/busy to write.
must go downstairs and pack some more.
Sunday, August 28, 2005
progress
with the walls plain, this room looks 105% more uninhabited. But that may only be an illusion; there are pockets of matter that I simply have not touched yet, and they may be the worst yet.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
the answer.
All has come full circle! Andy's "Answer" brand pregancy test from last year's initiation showed up in the debris swept into a pile by the kitchen after they moved the fridge (and perhaps unwisely unplugged it). I bet that must have caused an uproar. Was it lurking behind the fridge the whole time? This year's 65 #2 inhabitants have done miracles on ye olde apartment--too bad I'm just on the way out.
The mouse was out and about tonight. It was depressing to be moving out while everyone else was moving in, but then I realized that this meant that I too was moving in somewhere (eventually). I am nearly done packing my somewhat-brainless-packing items.
The mouse was out and about tonight. It was depressing to be moving out while everyone else was moving in, but then I realized that this meant that I too was moving in somewhere (eventually). I am nearly done packing my somewhat-brainless-packing items.
Pleasure Beach
I have the next 21 hours to move out of my apartment, so this will be a brief survey of information sans photos:
The Stewart B. McKinney National Wildlife Refuge has 6 units, include Falkner Island (in which I have previously taken interest) and the Great Meadows Unit, to which our expedition expeditiously took us. There used to be bigger and better plans for it, but those clearly were given up since their expected date of completion passed in 2003: "A self guided [2,000-foot-long (wheelchair-accessible)] trail at Great Meadows Unit is expected to be completed by the fall of 2003. This trail will be fully accessible and even include voice recordings to increase the trails enjoyment by the visually disabled. [From this new trail, visitors may see northern harriers, red breasted mergansers, black ducks, pied billed grebe, great blue herons, and numerous other bird species.]"
We saw all sorts of wildlife, including the inhabitants, but we didn't notice these birds.
Finally, Will's imagination about the dudes with guns wasn't far off the mark at all. Sub-headline from January 7, 2005 article in the New Haven Register: STRATFORD — Hunting enthusiasts told refuge specialists for the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service Thursday in Town Hall that they strongly support a plan to open up waterfowl hunting at the 500-acre Great Meadows Marsh that is part of the Stewart B. McKinney National Wildlife Refuge. [full text]
Interested in becoming a Salt Marsh Research Technician at this site? Their standards aren't too high: "Experience in salt marsh bird observation is welcomed but not necessary." But you should have applied by April 1, 2005.
It's quite apparent from the Google satellite map that we walked a very long way along the Long Beach isthmus. Republic "Doc" Gunther is a major advocate of building a Pleasure Beach Causeway to revive the days when Pleasure Beach was "the very best beach to go, probably in New England." (hmm...) The wording of the article suggests that we were not trespassing, but simply in an area of "severely limited pedestrian access."
Here is a diagram of the WICC transmitter area (perhaps the strange structure we saw was the Pleasure Beach Ballroom, also mysteriously destroyed by arson??? What's up with Pleasure Beach and final destructive fires?) The remains of the cottages could be interesting to find. Note that the photo is of the bridge leading to Pleasure Beach before it burned in 1996.
Adjunct trip when ACCESS returns to Pleasure Beach: Sikorsky Aircraft's abandoned factory and landing field nearby in Bridgeport on South Avenue, which is mentioned in the above article.
On Election Day, voters will vote on whether to allocate $13.5 million to the development of this causeway, according to a CT Post article. So apparently there is a huge controversy raging right now about the fate of the beach, and we came just in time to see it. The Soundkeeper is seeking to block construction of the causeway for environment concerns, and they et al will probably succeed, according to an August 11 article in the Stratford Star, "Welcome to the Long Beach cottages of Pleasure Beach."
Most importantly, the mystery of the inhabitants: they use these houses as summer homes and are fighting the city to keep them from being redeveloped into expensive waterfront properties. There are 45 families, some of which have known each other since the 40s. You would think from this article that they were a bit more friendly.
Finally, if anyone wants to acquire a copy of Andrew Pehanick's Bridgeport, there is an entire chapter devoted to the Pleasure Beach Amusement Park (probably with old postcard photos). You can always just ask SML to buy it--they've always bought my requests, but they can be slow.
Useless data.
The Stewart B. McKinney National Wildlife Refuge has 6 units, include Falkner Island (in which I have previously taken interest) and the Great Meadows Unit, to which our expedition expeditiously took us. There used to be bigger and better plans for it, but those clearly were given up since their expected date of completion passed in 2003: "A self guided [2,000-foot-long (wheelchair-accessible)] trail at Great Meadows Unit is expected to be completed by the fall of 2003. This trail will be fully accessible and even include voice recordings to increase the trails enjoyment by the visually disabled. [From this new trail, visitors may see northern harriers, red breasted mergansers, black ducks, pied billed grebe, great blue herons, and numerous other bird species.]"
We saw all sorts of wildlife, including the inhabitants, but we didn't notice these birds.
Finally, Will's imagination about the dudes with guns wasn't far off the mark at all. Sub-headline from January 7, 2005 article in the New Haven Register: STRATFORD — Hunting enthusiasts told refuge specialists for the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service Thursday in Town Hall that they strongly support a plan to open up waterfowl hunting at the 500-acre Great Meadows Marsh that is part of the Stewart B. McKinney National Wildlife Refuge. [full text]
Interested in becoming a Salt Marsh Research Technician at this site? Their standards aren't too high: "Experience in salt marsh bird observation is welcomed but not necessary." But you should have applied by April 1, 2005.
It's quite apparent from the Google satellite map that we walked a very long way along the Long Beach isthmus. Republic "Doc" Gunther is a major advocate of building a Pleasure Beach Causeway to revive the days when Pleasure Beach was "the very best beach to go, probably in New England." (hmm...) The wording of the article suggests that we were not trespassing, but simply in an area of "severely limited pedestrian access."
Here is a diagram of the WICC transmitter area (perhaps the strange structure we saw was the Pleasure Beach Ballroom, also mysteriously destroyed by arson??? What's up with Pleasure Beach and final destructive fires?) The remains of the cottages could be interesting to find. Note that the photo is of the bridge leading to Pleasure Beach before it burned in 1996.
Adjunct trip when ACCESS returns to Pleasure Beach: Sikorsky Aircraft's abandoned factory and landing field nearby in Bridgeport on South Avenue, which is mentioned in the above article.
On Election Day, voters will vote on whether to allocate $13.5 million to the development of this causeway, according to a CT Post article. So apparently there is a huge controversy raging right now about the fate of the beach, and we came just in time to see it. The Soundkeeper is seeking to block construction of the causeway for environment concerns, and they et al will probably succeed, according to an August 11 article in the Stratford Star, "Welcome to the Long Beach cottages of Pleasure Beach."
Most importantly, the mystery of the inhabitants: they use these houses as summer homes and are fighting the city to keep them from being redeveloped into expensive waterfront properties. There are 45 families, some of which have known each other since the 40s. You would think from this article that they were a bit more friendly.
Finally, if anyone wants to acquire a copy of Andrew Pehanick's Bridgeport, there is an entire chapter devoted to the Pleasure Beach Amusement Park (probably with old postcard photos). You can always just ask SML to buy it--they've always bought my requests, but they can be slow.
Useless data.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
recycled carillon bronze
While looking for info on the Bloomington carillons, I discovered the following slightly twisted fact:
"Members of The Presidents Circle are recognized in a number of ways. A distinguished medallion, engraved with the name of the donor, is presented at the annual luncheon for new members. The medallion is struck using metal from the original carillon bells that once rang in the IUB Student Building."
Finally parting with all the library books in my room before they drive me insane. Must keep going.
"Members of The Presidents Circle are recognized in a number of ways. A distinguished medallion, engraved with the name of the donor, is presented at the annual luncheon for new members. The medallion is struck using metal from the original carillon bells that once rang in the IUB Student Building."
Finally parting with all the library books in my room before they drive me insane. Must keep going.
more bike glory
“Wherever in the world the right to use non-automotive transportation is seriously infringed upon, we will apply international pressure to call attention to and stop the injustice.”
--Randall Ghent, co-director of the World Carfree Network’s International Coordination Centre
WCN is at once the most ludicrous organization I have ever encountered and one of the most in tune with my ideals and mischief-making that I could ever have imagined.
--Randall Ghent, co-director of the World Carfree Network’s International Coordination Centre
WCN is at once the most ludicrous organization I have ever encountered and one of the most in tune with my ideals and mischief-making that I could ever have imagined.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
seen in elmcitycycling
"In Victoria, Canada, methamphetamine addicts were stealing large numbers of bicycles because disassembling the bikes soothes them while they tweak."
--Harper's Magazine review
Free Ride Mountain Bike Guide
By the way, my photography website is finally in a somewhat satisfactory state, although working on it somehow consistently had the effect of putting me to sleep: the urban cathedral [grandeur and decay]. will move to the server space i just bought on brinkster (now i'm really out in the 'real world') once i figure out how to do simple things like change permissions (grrr...)
Biked up Orange Street yesterday on a whim and had lunch at Nica's for the first time. Marjolane's was still outrageously closed, but the gelato place next door was open. I wandered with some gelato into Solo Statement and met the admirable and extroverted owner, Heather Solomon. Not the shy type--anyone who can draw me out of my shell like that is someone I should emulate (although how I can do that from within my shell is TBA). Play named her one of the 10 funkiest people in New Haven. I don't know what they meant by funky, but she's great by any standards. Speaking of fashion, I've suddenly developed a taste for the fall line at Lordz, an incredibly expensive boutique that has never appealed to me. Jacket and dresses to die for, all for just a couple weeks' salary or a carillon concert or two!
The Menu started a fun conversation with Andrew, who is a fellow food adventurer. We keep ending up at the same random places at similar times (i.e. Nica's and Weston). Having seen my beloved senior year roommates all take off, my summer roommates are all moving out too, and new faces are wandering the campus... and I'm still here! Not for long, though. Hopefully I can stay in New Haven up until my last day and finish the work that I should be doing...right...now...
Seen on the website of the Catholic University of Leuven: "Our Faculty is practically as old as the University itself."
--Harper's Magazine review
Free Ride Mountain Bike Guide
By the way, my photography website is finally in a somewhat satisfactory state, although working on it somehow consistently had the effect of putting me to sleep: the urban cathedral [grandeur and decay]. will move to the server space i just bought on brinkster (now i'm really out in the 'real world') once i figure out how to do simple things like change permissions (grrr...)
Biked up Orange Street yesterday on a whim and had lunch at Nica's for the first time. Marjolane's was still outrageously closed, but the gelato place next door was open. I wandered with some gelato into Solo Statement and met the admirable and extroverted owner, Heather Solomon. Not the shy type--anyone who can draw me out of my shell like that is someone I should emulate (although how I can do that from within my shell is TBA). Play named her one of the 10 funkiest people in New Haven. I don't know what they meant by funky, but she's great by any standards. Speaking of fashion, I've suddenly developed a taste for the fall line at Lordz, an incredibly expensive boutique that has never appealed to me. Jacket and dresses to die for, all for just a couple weeks' salary or a carillon concert or two!
The Menu started a fun conversation with Andrew, who is a fellow food adventurer. We keep ending up at the same random places at similar times (i.e. Nica's and Weston). Having seen my beloved senior year roommates all take off, my summer roommates are all moving out too, and new faces are wandering the campus... and I'm still here! Not for long, though. Hopefully I can stay in New Haven up until my last day and finish the work that I should be doing...right...now...
Seen on the website of the Catholic University of Leuven: "Our Faculty is practically as old as the University itself."
Monday, August 22, 2005
freecyclenewhaven
Seen today on freecyclenewhaven:
"Offer: 238 diapers - for someone who really needs it! (New Haven)"
Seen Aug. 4:
"NEW Motherhood Maternity bra size 46 C"
I dread becoming a mother.
"Offer: 238 diapers - for someone who really needs it! (New Haven)"
Seen Aug. 4:
"NEW Motherhood Maternity bra size 46 C"
I dread becoming a mother.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
pho!
for all these years, i have inexplicably avoided trying to cook pho. today i woke up from an inexplicably necessary nap and realized that i pretty much had the necessary ingredients for it--and discovered that i could jury-rig a scrumptious steaming bowl of hot, succulent noodles with ease and that i would be doing this for a long time to come. if only i had been enlightened earlier.
Tuesday, August 16, 2005
it was just another brush with death
Tonight I discovered that the stove was leaking natural gas because one of my roommates had turned on the burner with a broken pilot light. It was terrifying to realize that, had somebody so much as turned on another burner or lighted a candle, there could have been a serious explosion and fire in the 65. We all came this close to injury or even death. It may be silly to think in terms of 'fate,' but I can't resist linking this to a revelation on the Metro-North this evening. More about that shortly.
The leak disturbed me deeply because it reminded me of the parents and daughter who were found dead in a motel room a few blocks from my condo in Daly City from a natural gas (carbon monoxide) leak. I have rarely ever passed that motel, even when I would drive by several times per day, without involuntarily envisioning myself discovering them slumped across their beds in the morning. Imagine mourning an entire family as grandparents.
Another consequence of the leak was that I felt like a mom in the apartment in relation to my roommates for good. It's difficult to believe that one year (off campus) could make such a difference.
I know that my last post sounded ludicrous. The sad part is that, ludicrous as it sounds, even to me, every word of it is true in a non-ludicrous way that probably will only ever make sense to me. On the train ride back from New York, I was haunted by similarly morose thoughts. However, I also had a revelation that must have transformed my demeanor so completely without my realizing it that the beer-guzzling businessman across from me stared.
I have been ignoring a beautiful and enviable life, wasting away a youth that will never come again, to grieve perpetually for a love that might not even be reviveable. It's been a long time since I felt urgently that every passing second was another precious moment of my life gone. Admittedly, this "revelation" is nothing new...it's something I've known intellectually since September. But I don't remember feeling it to my very core until now.
Even that realization can't chase away my fears, however... fear that because of Justin, I could meet Mr. Right and never be able to accept him, for example. I am also ashamed and embarrassed that someone as privileged and fortunate as myself could be so tragically depressed about one human being, about a certain 3 weeks that happened over a year ago. Sometimes I wonder if I'm deranged, and while another part of me tells me that I have perfectly sane reasons for feeling the way I do, yet another part reminds me that the insane are always convinced that they're sane.
Yesterday evening brought a wonderful surprise. I walked into my apartment building and stopped and gawked--at TC and Casey milling about on the stairs. Later Sophia joined us at Rudy's for frites and beer. This morning, I saw them off on their cross-country journey to Burning Man through Portland. Why must I keep seeing people off when I actually want to go with them?
How is this blog so addictive? The desire to record one's thoughts is remarkably self-reinforcing... although why I feel compelled to do so in public when there are plenty of people I'd rather not have reading this is puzzling. It's something akin to hiding oneself from others despite the desire to have one's true self known. I'm waxing too philosophical--time to get me to bed for the big concert tomorrow.
The leak disturbed me deeply because it reminded me of the parents and daughter who were found dead in a motel room a few blocks from my condo in Daly City from a natural gas (carbon monoxide) leak. I have rarely ever passed that motel, even when I would drive by several times per day, without involuntarily envisioning myself discovering them slumped across their beds in the morning. Imagine mourning an entire family as grandparents.
Another consequence of the leak was that I felt like a mom in the apartment in relation to my roommates for good. It's difficult to believe that one year (off campus) could make such a difference.
I know that my last post sounded ludicrous. The sad part is that, ludicrous as it sounds, even to me, every word of it is true in a non-ludicrous way that probably will only ever make sense to me. On the train ride back from New York, I was haunted by similarly morose thoughts. However, I also had a revelation that must have transformed my demeanor so completely without my realizing it that the beer-guzzling businessman across from me stared.
I have been ignoring a beautiful and enviable life, wasting away a youth that will never come again, to grieve perpetually for a love that might not even be reviveable. It's been a long time since I felt urgently that every passing second was another precious moment of my life gone. Admittedly, this "revelation" is nothing new...it's something I've known intellectually since September. But I don't remember feeling it to my very core until now.
Even that realization can't chase away my fears, however... fear that because of Justin, I could meet Mr. Right and never be able to accept him, for example. I am also ashamed and embarrassed that someone as privileged and fortunate as myself could be so tragically depressed about one human being, about a certain 3 weeks that happened over a year ago. Sometimes I wonder if I'm deranged, and while another part of me tells me that I have perfectly sane reasons for feeling the way I do, yet another part reminds me that the insane are always convinced that they're sane.
Yesterday evening brought a wonderful surprise. I walked into my apartment building and stopped and gawked--at TC and Casey milling about on the stairs. Later Sophia joined us at Rudy's for frites and beer. This morning, I saw them off on their cross-country journey to Burning Man through Portland. Why must I keep seeing people off when I actually want to go with them?
How is this blog so addictive? The desire to record one's thoughts is remarkably self-reinforcing... although why I feel compelled to do so in public when there are plenty of people I'd rather not have reading this is puzzling. It's something akin to hiding oneself from others despite the desire to have one's true self known. I'm waxing too philosophical--time to get me to bed for the big concert tomorrow.
Monday, August 15, 2005
the meaning of yesterday
Perhaps it was opening my recital at The Riverside Church with Hoagy Carmichael's 'Star Dust' that led me to make a mental note to look up Justin's birthday as I reveled in watching the bleak shells of civilization pass by in rain to the strains of Radiohead on the Metro-North. I had in fact forgotten what 'Star Dust' meant to me until I wrote the preceding sentence.
His birthday was today--August 14. August 14--the day he left the United States without a parting word for me, 365 days ago. August 14--the day I threw myself against the walls of my apartment screaming NO through tears of one who has forever lost her reason for living. And somehow I played 'Star Dust' today and subconsciously remembered his birthday when I couldn't even remember those of my parents.
I wanted to call him, so I checked my GCNA concert schedule to see where he was.
Two hours after my concert on the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial Carillon in New York City, he performed a concert at the only other Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial Carillon in the world--at the University of Chicago.
The day of his birthday and the day he broke my heart became the day we were united by remarkable coincidences across opposite ends of the country. How could anything be mere coincidence when it involves Justin and me? Is some higher power, some carillon diety, reassuring me after 365 days of grief and despair, that fate intends us to ultimately come together?
I am afraid to believe it, because I am afraid to hope for anything from Justin. I believe my fear is wise, because my hopes for us have nearly killed me before. But to avoid the risk, should I then throw away what may be perhaps the greatest gift of hope heaven has given me this year?
His birthday was today--August 14. August 14--the day he left the United States without a parting word for me, 365 days ago. August 14--the day I threw myself against the walls of my apartment screaming NO through tears of one who has forever lost her reason for living. And somehow I played 'Star Dust' today and subconsciously remembered his birthday when I couldn't even remember those of my parents.
I wanted to call him, so I checked my GCNA concert schedule to see where he was.
Two hours after my concert on the Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial Carillon in New York City, he performed a concert at the only other Laura Spelman Rockefeller Memorial Carillon in the world--at the University of Chicago.
The day of his birthday and the day he broke my heart became the day we were united by remarkable coincidences across opposite ends of the country. How could anything be mere coincidence when it involves Justin and me? Is some higher power, some carillon diety, reassuring me after 365 days of grief and despair, that fate intends us to ultimately come together?
I am afraid to believe it, because I am afraid to hope for anything from Justin. I believe my fear is wise, because my hopes for us have nearly killed me before. But to avoid the risk, should I then throw away what may be perhaps the greatest gift of hope heaven has given me this year?
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