Tuesday, February 21, 2012

N'yorkin'

I'm currently in New York. Taking a break from... Homework, actually. I travel two-thousand some-odd miles to the wrong side of the continent, and yet the schooling demons pursue me relentlessly. I just... Bleh. I can't put it away. It simply has to get done somehow, regardless of where I am. It's a crappy feeling, but nothing can change it. So I sit in this crappy New York hostel, at a wobbly table with intermittant wifi so that I can putz around with assignments.

So, New York thusfar. The food is excellent. It's either a bit too expensive or the proportions are too small, depending on how you want to look at it. But it's delicious. I've tried three restaraunts at random (walking down the street, "Hey I'm hungry. Let's try this one."), and they were great. I went to some kinda high-end hipster sandwhich shop with my group and some designers from a studio we toured, and that was... Incredibly expensive, and not really that good. And the portions were pathetic. I guess it's too upmarket for a plebian like myself. The street-vendor salted pretzels are freaking disgusting, though.

Which, by the way, I purchased and consumed in Time Square. It was monumental and impressive. The sheer scale of it blew me away, and the intense spectacle was breathtaking. And quite frankly, I found it all borderline insulting. So much advertising, everywhere. It's like a giant monument to capitalism. Which is fine, really. To some people it's probably really cool. But to me, there at midnight and being bathed in the light of a dozen 5-story billboards and several +8-story animated screens... It was too much. Granted, looking up I got some serious vertigo and the flashing lights and minor jetlag probably didn't help too much. But just the fact that there was so much light and spectacle for the sole purpose of these mega corporations hocking their wares... Bleh, it made my stomach churn.

Again, strictly a personal take on it all. It's probably super cool to other people. And if that's the case, more power to ya.

In other news, street vendors. I have being approached in stores by salespeople, and this is 100x worse. Especially in Chinatown. If you show the slightest interest in something, you will not be left alone until you physically leave the area. A "I'll think about it" or "naw, not interested", even if sincere, means absolutely nothing to these people. Bartering can be kinda fun, though. I need to improve. If only I had more money, I'd go and buy stuff just so that I can haggle some more. I feel like it's a game/routine - I just need to give it a few more tries before I figure out ho to get things working how I want them to. Kinda fun, yes, but not a cheap hobby.

And this seems to be a reoccurring theme - evaporating money. Doesn't take long to burn through cash, especially with having to eat out. If I could find a decent grocery store and had a properly stocked kitchen (a microwave, sink, and toaster does not a kitchen make), I'd be doing slightly better. Bleh. It's freaking me out how expensive this is getting, but I guess that's the nature of travelling. I don't want to rely on fast food or buying supplies to make my own crappy sandwhiches, especially when there's so much good food around. But I don't think I'll have much choice in the matter. At least we get a continental breakfast here (re: a single muffin or bagel, and a small drink), so one meal is taken care of.

Bleh, bleh I say! Bleh at food problems, bleh at having to do homework. Despite my gripin', I am having a good time, though. Anyways. The sooner I get back to homework, the sooner I'll be done.

Hah, I'm a funny guy...
-Cril

Moby - Hotel Intro

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Made it to Grafitti

What a week, what a week. Just finished presenting a project, which went well. There've been more late-nights on campus than I really care for, but unfortunately... That's just the way it goes. I need to get more work done to be ready to go to New York this weekend so I don't need to bring assignments with me. Alas, I don't think that'll be the case. Too much to do...

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And yet, there's so much more goin' on than school crap. Hm.
-Cril

You make the moon a mirrorball
The streets an empty stage
The city's sirens, violins
Everything has changed
Everything has changed

Elbow - Mirrorball

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Verbal Doodle - "There wasn't one to give."

There wasn't one to give. Out of all the times for this to happen, it's certainly the most unfortunate. There are some things you take for granted, such as shoelaces. And when you're strutting around with two shoes on, both of which sporting it's own length of thread to match, you seldom even notice that they're present at all. And so when it finally does come time for someone else to walk a length in those shoes, it's important that they actually stay in place. And when you're missing a lace, well, that tends to make things difficult. The intent and the vehicle are there, but that stupid piece of string kind of ruins it all. You're used to those shoes. They fit like they've pounded the pavement with you for too many miles. Which, really, they have. But it immediately becomes apparent that something so basic has been so perfectly tailored to you that they can't even function on someone else. How intimate. Standing on the precipice of something that should be so simple, and it falls apart (and falls off) due to the tiniest thing. A damn shoelace.

Tuesday, February 07, 2012

Verbal Doodle - "The horse came back alone."

The horse came back alone. At what point it became alone was completely unclear. But the well-worn saddle and blanket laid across its back seemed to indicate that it once had a faithful companion. The hooves were muddy. Too muddy. And that same off-red dirt could be seen in dried out flecks of mud along the torso, indicating that there was some recent velocity involved. But here it stands in the clearing, looking me dead in the eye. What did it see, I wonder? What did it hear? And what did it lose?

Sunday, February 05, 2012

Privately Public

You know, one of the things that crosses my mind a lot in regards to this wonderful digital wordspace I have going on here is the fact that it's public, open to any random nomad of the internet to stumble upon. And despite the fact that many of those 325 posts cover such riveting material as nerdy reviews, useless opinions, and absolutely inane documentation of mundane day-to-day life, a good portion of it... Is really personal stuff. Mind you, I put a lot of effort into stripping out identifying details and mixing in a few tablespoons of vague to keep things a wonderful shade of grey. But when all the fluff is boiled away, there are the remains of a chunk of me.

There are some things I put up here that are tough to get out, and tough to see articulated into words put up for the entire world to see. But that's why I do it. It's kinda like releasing it out into the wind. It goes from something inside to something that has sudden weightlessness and directionless freedom. Most likely it'll get blown around and land in a forest, or in the sea. Maybe it'll actually float to a town, where it'll set down on a street corner. This is where some random passer by will bend over, pick it up, and briefly glance at the contents on their way to dump it in the trashcan three feet away. Such is the nature of this 'internet' business, really. It's all noise buried on top of noise. And I don't have any illusions of grandeur - this, all this, is nothing more than a pixelated speck in the larger JPG of the world.

But it means a lot to me. It's semi-sensitive stuff. I'm glad that I've set it free and it's one less thing for me to carry around in my head, but there are bits that are still very much tied to me. So I generally don't advertise this thing to the people I know. I'm glad that the select few people that do know about this thing do. I trust their opinions, and I'm glad to share something that's important to me with them. I wouldn't hesitate to discuss any of this stuff with them.

Sketch011

What kinda bothers me though... Are the few people that aren't supposed to see this. You know, those people that you only kinda know. Practically acquaintances, with not much of a personal connection. That wonderful grey zone where they don't really know you well enough to understand what you've written, and you don't really know them well enough to feel comfortable talking about it. Yes, this is all up there for the public to sift through. So I don't have any right to complain. So if you're reading this, practically acquaintance person, I don't want to know about it. It's this emotional juxtaposition of taking a formal relationship and dumping in something intimate that has no right to naturally exist in this kind of circumstance. Internal dissonance and discomfort to the max, yo.

So the idea was presented to me that I should, perhaps, make this whole thing private. Therein lies the issue. Yes, it would get rid of this hesitation I'm having. But this whole thing is practically its own organic identity that I'm joined at the hip with. Sure, I have a say in things... But with the nature of the relationship between me and what/how I write here can't be tampered with. And that includes who sees it and how it's presented. It ain't for me to dictate. Just be. And so when the thought came to me that, maybe, I should be changing what I write about to remove those awkwardness-spawning personal connections... It immediately felt like the wrong thing to do. So screw that. This is what it is, and maybe I'll pay the price in some sort of social discomfort. But I think it'd be more than worth it.
-Cril

Mescalito - No Half Measures

Thursday, February 02, 2012

Lost & Found (but mostly lost...)

Found: One set of black LG earbuds with an on/off button and a regular jack.

So there I was, enjoying a conversation with a friend, when you came into a coffee shop in the downtown area. You were a man with "a flappy stripey half-mohawk and black and white shirt and skin-tight low-flying pants", as my friend later described to me. You see, I didn't really get a chance to see you that clearly for myself, but we were close for the briefest of moments. Oh so close.

As my friend and I were conversing, you strolled over and leaned on the banister by our table and slightly behind me. You even set your earbuds down there, briefly, which I saw out of my peripheral vision. I had no idea what you were up to, but by watching the eyes of my companion I could tell that there was something... Special that was happening.

After a few moments and without any warning, you leaned in close. I could feel your hair brush against the side of my cheek. And that's when you told me... Something. Something completely incoherent. We still have no idea what magical phrase you uttered into my ear, but you didn't hesitate to then try to steal a kiss before stumbling away. You bounced off of counter, table, and chair like a pinball before finding the exit. And it wasn't until later that we realized you had left behind a lonely set of black earbuds. The only token of our all-too-brief and mysterious encounter.

And you're more than welcome to have the back, of course. We'll be more than happy to return them to you. The only thing I ask in return, my dear sir... Is to know what you said. It continues to haunt me. Such a short phrase uttered in passing before you walked (or ricocheted, rather) back into the dark night and out of my life forever.