January 2006 Archives

Today has had to have been one of the most flirtatious days I have had in a long, long time. I am not sure if it was the overall alignment of the stars, an extra release of pheromones, or just that famine crazed cheetah in the Serengeti look. Either way, I felt like the man today. Work was excellent! Everybody loved me, tipped well, was friendly, inquisitive, helpful, flirtatious, right out blatantly fresh in that non PC, can get you in court, sexual kind of way. I loved every minute of it. It all started in the Cuban restaurant this morning with the ever so friendly waitresses who prepare my cortaditos and cafes-con-leche the way I like before. Then, it continued on the train with the punk-rock squatter looking girl with the bruised knees, who looked quite unapproachable and sparked a conversation about Cuba, which was more exhilarating then the caffeine in my coffee. She gave me that I-would-love-to-finish-this-conversation look, very similar to the one she gave me when I switched today’s issue of the Economist for my Cuban relations book. She was sweet, smart, and had a deep desire to be heard by someone willing to listen. I never even got her name.

Everyone at work was sweet, nice, and flirtatious. Even the old ladies seemed to have been infused with the rigor that follows the second season back-to-back viewing of the Sex in the City DVD collection. I mean they were giving Golden Girls, Blanch all the way. The younger girls all wore fixed smiles and took up my suggestion on just about everything and anything on the menu that I recommended. Other favorite moments at work were when the owner asked me to sit in for a meeting, the cook's upon request yummy gestures, that little moment in the coat room, all the hand shakes and back patting, the we-should-hang-out-more-oftens, and generous tips. The bartender even lent me the money to purchase my camera for school and when I went to buy it they even threw in a roll of film and overlooked the tax.

When I arrived at my first class of the semester, I immediately knew that I would have a hard time not becoming distracted by the natives. All I will say is, God bless those lips and ass. I know that I took several double-takes. Then, guess what happened? The eyes met and smiles were exchanged. There was an immediate Cinco de Mayo parade inside my head, behind and the cocky unrevealing smile. I caught sight of a few more smiles, in search of approval or just for the sake of the flirtation. The looks my way, the smiles and a certain comment made me all wonder if this individual was a “player”, just a euphoric soul or was it all in my cabessa, a product of my wishful imagination. Either way, there was enough exertion of interest to initiate a small conversation after class, which led to exchanged phone numbers, but only after a girl who joined us along the way excused her self to use the bathroom. I hate confusing moments like those when one has trouble figuring out the situation and its possible, if any, implications. I want to think that it was my powers of charm but then again there’s that age old question of whether or not the other team plays. Then there is the questions of whether or not it would require homework to find out, how much homework, and would all this homework prove beneficial at passing the final test. I say, who cares, I am too busy to try and decipher the ass-lip puzzle and rather leave the figuring and following-up, to them. Que sera, sera, right?

Fidel Castro & the Quest for Revolutionary Culture in Cuba by Julie Marie Bunck.

I am on chapter two and already hooked.

Happy year of the Dog everyone. I do not have time for an entery today, so I will direct you to last years.

Today was my first day of school. My first class was my philosophy class. Yesterday, I referred to it as a political philosophy class. In actuality, the name of the course is Great Issues in Philosophy.* It "will focus on the three great issues in the philosophy of science [...] to philosophically evaluate select aspects of scientific cosmology, evolutionary biology and cognitive neuroscience." I was really hoping that it would have leaned more on the political but I was assured that it will often touch on political issues. The class was in a new campus building that I had never visited. It was so nice, and clean, and reeked of sterile-new. Sterile new induces sleepiness by the way which I had to fight during my math quiz. I am moving forward to fast though and would like to rewind and further describe my experience in Philosophy class.

I was excited to learn that the class was a fairly small and would make for an intimate experience. The kind where you do not feel like you are constantly shooting nasty glares at fellow students who give the impression of really enjoying the sound of their own voices. I have trouble exercising tolerance around that type. To raise your hand or share two or three times during a class in understandable, significantly more then that and it is my belief that your a thespian and should join the drama club. Honestly, there's no bigger annoyance then unwelcome monologue disguised as dialog.

I arrived to class fifteen minutes early, to make up for all my yet to come tardiness, and scope out the place and decide on my fungshuai self positioning in the the room.

As soon as the professor enters, he is being tailed by a fairly large gentleman who's voice is as well projected as it was immediately annoying. And it would be so the entire length of class that he interrupted every five minuets. It was not that his questions were bad but that they mad absolutely no sense or simply repeatedly the just mentioned, or simply repeatedly the just mentioned, or simply repeatedly the just mentioned...

I was awaken this morning much earlier then I had planned, thanks to the electric company. I was pissed off beyond words. You have no idea how load my door buzzer is. It is the kind of loud that makes your heart jump out of your chest and trigger the Hyde in anyone. Apparently, I have been paying for the electric used in the apartment across from me and they for mine. My Japanese neighbors who are never home, realized that their bills were too high. It was all thanks to the electric wall heater that I use at night. I figure that I have probably had significantly lower electric bills this winter but have lost out over these last four years. When I first moved in, there was a small family of four living in the studio apartment across from me. I am not very good at math but i assume that four consume more then one. So, I lost out on cash over these last few years and on two extra hours of sleep this morning. ConEd is investigating the matter. I hope that they credit me.

After my rude awakening, I made time for mail and this morning's post. I then ran to work in a frenzied rush to ensure my early arrival. When I got there, I learned that I was not scheduled and everyone laughed. I on the other hand was delighted. There where so many things I had to do at school and I was dreading having to wait till after 5pm to complete them. I bid my cheerful-at-my-expense coworkers farewell and headed off to reacquaint myself with the perpetual start of semester school lines. One of the main things that I wanted to fix, was that my school had me labeled as an out of state resident. This little error was resulting in higher tuition charges and that little fixing required 45min to solve.

Deciding on which electives and requirements to take, that fitted both my likes and schedule has not been an easy task. I have changed my schedule a few times already. Each change of course requires a certain amount of time, waiting on lines, getting over-tally permission form slips from the pertaining departments, and kissing lots of head of department asses for the needed signatures. Anyway, long story short.....More lines, more waiting.

After three hours of lines, searching and comparing prices on-line to those of the school bookstore, and a long discussion on the contradictions of present politics and foreign policies with the Chair of the Social Science department, I went to the library to secure some on-line textbook prices. I had a hard time focusing due to the distracting walking hazards. All that ogling made me look at myself and think that my lack of social extracurricular activates, as of late, has resulted in an overall slip in my cute factor. I picked up the phone and contacted my barber for some immediate grooming. I was quite pleased after my haircut and before leaving the barbershop, I looked at my reflection in the mirror and thought, "Aw, there's that scrumptious papi I remember." There's nothing like a haircut right?

Anyway, I got a lot done, saved loads of money, fresh cut, and came home to 3 Netflix movies in the mailbox.

(Update: Saw War of The Worlds...I was rooting for humanity the entire lenght of the movie.)

Have any of you guys been feeling down these last few days? I sure have. I may have found the reason why. Scientists from Cardiff University came across a formula that marks January 23 as the most depressing day of the year. I am assuming that the days in proximity to the 23rd must also be equally difficult or at least mathematically happier days by small fractions. This equation conflicts with my earlier position of Valentines Day being the most depressing based on it's historically high suicide rates.

Anyone suffered a difficult 23rd of January?

On the 23rd, I woke up late, found out that all of my loan applications would need to be resubmitted, worked 12 hours, felt lonely, worried about finances-books-school supplies-rent, made sh*t money, and lastly, love and I crossed paths a few hours apart. It's memory was unwanted and yet, I hated every missed second of it.

Formula:

1/8W+(D-d) 3/8xTQ MxNA

W= Weather, D= Debt, T= time since Christmas, Q= Failure to quit a bad habit
M= Motivational levels NA= The need to take action and do something about it

The US Mission in Havana and Fidel's ongoing measuring contest is hilarious.

First, During Christmas of '04 Cuba became enraged over the Mission's Christmas lights. The Mission, who really knows how to push the army clad buttons, put up some festive decorations The lights sported a huge twinkly number 75, a reference to the 75 jailed dissidents (March '03) who were charged as working with the US of A to "overthrow the communist government."

In retaliation, Cuba erected billboards across the street from the mission showing U.S. soldiers abusing Iraqi prisoners and a huge swastika overlaid with a "Made in the U.S.A" stamp.

Now, they have pulled rulers out again. Uncle Sam gained a few inches during Martin Luther King Day, when the Mission ran excerpts from the "I have a dream" speech and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in pretty rolling red text on it's billboards that look out unto the busy Malecon. I followed the previous stories on havanajournal.com and caught the latest tit-for-tat yesterday on Commondreams.com.

For full story click here.

"Causachun coca! Wañuchun yanquis!
(¡Viva la coca! Yankee go home!" )
-Evo Morales

Let me get this straight. A 46 year old cocaine dealer and llama herder becomes President of Bolivia and is now talking anti-free-market rhetoric. He must have forgotten about the fruitful laws of supply and demand while he contributed to crack cocaine baby statistics and fattened his wallet.

The funny thing is that he wants to ride the oppression bandwagon. "I wish to tell you, my Indian brothers, that the 500-year indigenous and popular campaign of resistance has not been in vain," Mr. Morales told the cheering crowd.

Unbelievable! He can glorify the coca plant all he wants. I understand the cultural significance that the plant has historically had for his people, but chewing the leaves as an energetic narcotic is a lot different then mass producing kilos for the demanding regnum principatus.

Did I mention that this guy it fantasying about nationalization? Marx and Engels might be a bit too complicated for him to comprehend but his fluency in bullsh*t, may help.

It sounds like another police state in the making. If the accumulation of wealth is so unimportant why dose he not use his coca cash to build some basic infrastructure for his indigenous brethren? He can start by providing dental care for all the coca weakened enamel smiles of his people. Then, by confiscating his coca fields, returning them to the citizens, and building schools on them or turning them into parks where the public can come and see the humble land once toiled by his oppressed royal Indian highness.

For full story click here.