How to be a trendy scientist

Apotheke

Saturday night, my friend and I left the house late…and we should have known the night would be interesting when a rat zipped across his feet while we waited for the subway. We re-surfaced near Chinatown and while the GPS navigator misguided us through crooked streets & past shops in a language quite different from English, we settled into the NY night life seen. Through intuitive ignoring of the GPS, we found the secret crooked alleyway and a line we hoped would lead us into this famous bar. Like good Americans, we qued at the end of the line. Within a few sentences of conversation, the doorman came along the line, focused on my friend and asked, in a short elitist, british voice…

“Are you going to wear that hat inside the club?”

My friend: “I had planned on it.”

English doorman peering down his nose: “Where you from?”

My friend: “Philladelphia. Well, actually just north of there but close enough.”

English doorman, now intrigued: “You gonna take that hat off when you get in the club?”

My friend, in the same cool nonchalant voice: ”I hadn’t planned on it.”

English doorman: “Where you from?”

My Friend: “Philadelphia”

English doorman, grinning: “Okay, let’s go in then.”

As we walked past the 15+people in line, the grumbles started. The man at the door smiled and told my friend he could wear his hat and to have a good time. At no point did they look at me or want to engage my wit and sarcasm. I’m still not sure what happened but it worked!(I suspect it was the Indian Jones hat) We were in, with no cover charge and ready for the experience. Instead of subjecting you my darkly lit bar camera learning curve, I’ll just give you the link to the most awesome bar on earth (above in blue: Apotheke). I have fallen in love with the design, atmosphere and experience this place provides. So take a few moments and look through the pictures, making sure to see the chemistry set chandelier and bathroom sink copper shower head faucet ("Space" tab at the top of their webpage & check out the history of Doyers St. on the "Our Story" tab).

SIT within the LINES

"Let all the poisons in the mud hatch out!" What are they venting???

Now I know....

How the cartoon characters felt every time they rode in the elevator. The doors would shut, they'd cockily punch a number and WHAMO they're a puddle on the floor as the elevator shot to the top of the building. Our elevator goes from ground floor to floor 25 in 15 seconds. We all exchange knowing glances as we shake our heads, pop our ears and hoist ourselves out of our shoes like lifting a slinky at the end of its run and attempt a graceful exit from the EXPRESS elevator.

Listen to Your Elders

Across from my cubicle is an ancient co-worker everyone tells me he’s 80something (older than god), loves to talk about trains, and (with a nudge nudge, wink wink) just got married. They’ve trained me on the strategy for avoiding him: look busy, avoid eye contact and make sure you LOOK BUSY. Despite the warnings, I’ve decided to listen to him and his stories about a different America, unimaginable to my technology accustomed eyes. Because my cubicle is by a busy thoroughfare, I often get ‘knowing’ looks from passers-by when I’m talking to our wizened co-worker. These looks cause me despair because they convey some kind of comradery of endurance in appeasement. I’m deeply bothered to think about people evading and avoiding me at the end of my life, dreading to hear my experiences, perspectives and opinions. This man asks for nothing but some time in exchange for stories filled with valuable information about experiences that will soon be Hollywood sets and fading pictures. His physical abilities are fading, the neurons have slowed, but the memories are vivid and in need of a home before this home re-enters the life force. The least I can do is listen, process and let him know he is still needed. Interacting with him has me thinking about what I want the end of my life to be, who I want to be and the stories I will tell. What will your end of life be like? What stories do you want to tell?

I get by with a little help from my friends

Thankyou to everyone- You've been my scaffolding!
Without your support, contact and updates, well, I would be like this poor lonesome building and just topple right over. P.S. there's scaffolding on the back side of this building as well. If you stare long enough, you can see it shudder in the wind and contemplate throwing a few bricks into the street.

Faliure of the Imagination

The view from my desk has changed drastically. I guess the neighbors decided the wild, untamed look was too much and they stripped the yard bare of everything but the largest blobs of color and botanical life. Much like the stray cats who stalked through the tall vegetation, I sulk to think of the beauty that's been lost. The blue spiderwort greeting the day and disintegrating in the heat, the strange lilies that had yet to bl00m, the few strands of grass fighting to make progeny among all the other untamed plants. For me, the comfort of witnessing a place allowed to just be...to grow outside the lines, 'unnoticed' and left alone was wonderful. The sparrows, pigeons and blackbirds now enjoy the disturbed yard and we all watch to see the neighbor's vision manifested.

Good Guys

While walking home I encountered a monsterous cockroach, busking near the subway claiming it needed candy, pastries and baked goods. Later, while trying to shake the guilt and anguish caused from having such hunger and desperation flaunted so near to me, I found the beasty pictured here patrolling my walls. All those legs and long antenna are scary but I remember some advice my mom gave me: "when you see these guys in your apartment, you won't have cockroaches because these scary critters are carnivorous...they're favorite dinner- cockroach children." I haven't seen that cockroach round the neighborhood since.

Making friends in the city

It was a warm Monday evening and I was spending some time reading a book in City Hall Park when several butterflies decided I'd be a good sunning spot. I've never been a butterfly beach before.

Renewable Bubble Wrap

While at Brighton Beach, some seaweed washed up and I noticed the air pockets...and popped one, two, all of them. As I suspected, the strange satisfaction from popping small bubbles IS genetic, quite possibly an evolutionary development to help facilitate fast decomposition of aquatic resources on land.

Money makes the Vorld go avround

The city, contrary to popular belief, still runs on cash. Contrary to many other cities where I've entered and left with the same $20, I find I rarely use my credit card. I've been in many establishments where only cash is accepted (or rewarded w/exclusion from taxes). Of course, this has its problems seeing as how my bank has only midwestern branches. After finding the closest Whole Foods, they have become my personal ATM. Local, organic food AND cash...Whole Foods is my one stop shop.

If big brother isn't watching......

someone else is. The apartment building was tagged recently and now I know what a tree feels like.

Color within the lines

Social Commentary

It seems to me NYC is one of the few cities where it's acceptable to be alone. Most people cling to their group, directing ALL energy and focus onto each other while allowing all strangers to become fixtures of the background-obstacles to be avoided, dismissed and ignored. I find it easy to slip through this city, in my own world, rarely interacting. It doesn't feel awkward to be by myself. It's as if there's an underlying agreement that in a city saturated with human energy it's acceptable and rare to have moments to yourself. And since I wander far and wide, unlike native residents, I'm always the unknown new person. This actually makes it all easier because the probability of me running into anyone I know, and them wondering why I'm alone, is in the thousandths of a %. It's a curious combination of freedom and lonliness. Or maybe it's maturity that allows me to slip through the social norms w/out care or consideration.

A nasal education

Each day presents new challenges for chemorecognition. The microscopic sensors w/in my nose are continually assaulted shortly after leaving the house....The neighbor has burned toast again, the deli down the street is frying some poor creature, someone urinated in the corner recently, the singed hair smell of overheating subway brakes, the plentiful cologne, BO, perfume aromas, and all those unidentifiable smells... I probably never want to know the identity of or source. But never do I settle into the comforting smells of decomposing leaf litter, sweet fragrance of plant sex or reassuring smells of organic processes. For those I must travel at least 2 hours away from this heavily homosapianed environment.
Even the rain has a pungent, lived in smell...

Cat Pack

One hot day, while Deniro was sprawled out along the wall, I discovered he is indeed a he. The video below is the only demonstration I've ever seen of altruism from a male cat towards kittens I don't think are his. It's pretty dark but if you look closely to the left of him you will see a kitten chowing on some treats. Watch his reaction and how he tolerates the kittens as if they were his children.


More Kitten Therapy









There are three stray cats who hang out in the awkward space between my apartment building and the yards (yes there are places here with yards!) of houses on the next block. Since moving in, I've come to know these 3 vagabonds about as well as you can know any semi-ferral mammal. I assure you that as the summer progresses, more stories will be added....but first, the background:

As you can see from the pictures, these three are always seen together...a strange thing for ferrel cats. BUT it seems the two tiger stripped cats (Pacino & Deniro) are actually kittens from a previous litter. The black & white cat (whom I'll call Billy after Miss Holliday) has a litter of 4 kittens which I discovered late one night- video & the story coming soon. Although she has 4 little ones in tow, Pacino & Deniro still hang around, glaring jealously from a distance as the kittens partake in a feast whenever they desire. All three linger under the neighbors window (seen in the last picture) for the occasional toss of mysterious food. We've developed a relationship, though their skittishness is difficult to cope with. When I come home and open the windows, they stare hopefully and are attentive to my moves inside the house. Of course, they don't have a TV either so I suppose I'm the best entertainment they have in this dreary vacant, in-between space. I continue to struggle with the dilemma of tossing my own mysterious food from the window: if I start feeding them will they decrease their valuable service of balancing the populations of other, more irritating critters? Am I just participating in the larger problem of ferral animals due to human irresponsibility? Is it really my place to subsidize yet another mammal breeding uncontrollably in a geographic location with such strained resources? Why can't I just naively enjoy the interaction without it becoming a deeper philosophical debate?

The 4 kittens are fat and sassy, taking over the alley way and generally being adorable in their predatory practicing. I'm a bit concerned because I haven't seen Miss Holiday (the black and white) or Pacino in several days. The kittens are following around Deniro (the close up picture w/one white leg).

Kitten Therapy: Video of a practicing predator

Just when I’m starting to loathe the city.....

There are many compensations to tempt me away from my Midwestern comfort zone. For example, I normally head to City Hall Park for lunch as a way to reconnect with greenery & life, but today there was a push cart festival across the street. Being the curious cat that I am, I had to check it out, this little block party. There was a good blues band, the usual jewelry vendors and caricature artists. And then, just as I reached the end of the party…..the Cinnamon Snail. A vegan cart!!! And the selection of desserts! OH MY! I started with the chocolate, mocha cookie crunch doughnut and the cinnamon snail. Instantly I was reveling in culinary bliss! For once, I (or my mom) didn’t have to make the sweet treat! Oh, the luxury of just indulging the sweet tooth with out foresight, planning and cooking! The doughnut was so good I forgot to take a picture :)

Fun with other humans

Chess….a game formerly for nerds and intellectuals is a spectator sport. Every day, all day, chess games are played in City Hall Park with quiet , intense enthusiasm and dedication. Of course this was a temptation I couldn’t resist and so I coerced another EPA intern to join me in an amateur game of chess. One thing I should point out, is the sex ratio of chess…..when we entered the park, all of the tables and spectators were a diverse group of men. We procured a table, set up my pitifully cheap pieces and quickly drew the predatory and critical observation of numerous skilled players. After a few minutes of observation the unspoken silence barrier between players and observers was broken with people questioning us about whether we were competitively playing. Our awkward responses solicited the help of a fellow EPA person who gets together with other EPA players (all men) and we were quickly re-learning the strategies of the game. While we played, occasional angry, cursing outbursts from the other tables indicated how seriously this endeavor is and how truly out of place we were to simply attempt to remember how to play the game. We played through out game, with much coaching and joking about the quality of the pieces, and hope to join this tradition. Keep checking back for contrasting pictures of my the pathetic pieces and the accepted pieces.

Coping Skills

In the absence of a TV, I have jumped ahead in the progression of life to the nursing home experience by purchasing a 750 piece oval puzzle. The selection of cheap puzzles is dismal and I’m dismayed to report my $10 purchase of what is a rather mediocre representation of goldfinches. But seeing as how the most dramatic bird I’ve seen in Brooklyn or NYC is a hybridized pigeon or mutated sparrow, the rendition of goldfinches in full mating colors will have to do. At night I pour a glass of cheap wine, crank the tunes and drift away into a problem with a clear beginning, end and solution….if only I dedicate enough time to staring at it. There is a certain peace that comes when two, then three, then more, pieces fit perfectly together and the picture becomes clear. Puzzle therapy is a real thing and should be prescribed for all graduate students.

Today I witnessed the sport of pigeon kicking.
Technique:

1. Place foot under those plump flight muscles

2. Grin maliciously in anticipation

3. Briskly lift foot skyward, similar to a drunken rendition of a Chorus Line

The pigeon experiences spontaneous levitation; the human experiences demented joy.
There is also the sport of in flight bird whacking (doesn't matter which kind). The method is to take any object you have in your hand (newspaper, purse, lunch, etc.), wave vigorously above your head and refuse to look up to see what (or who) you're whacking.