Two events mad me sad today:
1) Someone stole my coffee delivery.
My coffee delivery from Green Mountain was supposed to arrive by FedEx today, so I worked from home in anticipation of getting my dark roasted beans. Stupidly, I decided to run some quick errands so I stuck a note near the foyer buzzer for the FedEx guy to leave my package without a signature, just in case they came while I temporarily abandoned my FedEx vigil. Of course they did arrive when I was gone. When I got back and logged in to track my package I was stunned to see it had been delivered. Since I returned by a back exit, I ran downstairs to the main entrance and was totally dismayed to see absolutely nothing there. Some bastard had flogged my $30 worth of coffee. Dammit! It was no more than 15 mins between the recorded delivery time and my arrival at the front door. I'm pretty pissed off, but my lesson is learned. From now on, all deliveries are going to my work address where there will be someone to sign for a delivery at all times. Whether it was the FedEx person, or someone that lives in my building, I do hope they enjoy MY coffee, the fucking thieving, scumbag, low-life parasites.
2) Ace isn't visiting.
Well, he's not visiting anytime soon at least, although hopefully I'll get to see him early next year. I'm feeling suitably crushed right now.
19 September 2007
14 September 2007
Two things
Two events made me happy today:
1) I narrowly escaped being hit by a car.
It was a gorgeously crisp clear morning and I was strolling to work as usual, enjoying the sounds of my beloved iPod. Near my place, a black BMW would soon turn left at an intersection, which is fine, except that I was crossing the road at the time.
I had just arrived at the pedestrian crossing marked along the intersection when I saw the car come down the one way street from the opposite direction I was heading. It obeyed the Stop sign at the intersection, before moving forward to stop in the middle of the intersection. Having seen the car stop, I assumed the driver had seen me and had stopped to allow me to cross, as the law dictates. Bzzzt, wrong. I was in the middle of the road when the car accelerated abruptly, turning left, hurtling towards me.
Instant horror. One second passed and I was frozen in panic. No time to respond except to put my hand out instinctively. Futilely. One and a half seconds pass. The black speeding blur observed in my periphery resolves into a solid black bumper bar less than an inch away from my leg. Two seconds. The shiny BMW badge is close enough to touch. My mind is still frozen but I take a step away from the vehicle, an automated recoil to danger. I exhale deeply and look at the driver who is apologizing profusely from their window. The sounds from my iPod almost drown out their apology. Three more seconds pass before my mind acknowledges that I haven't been run down, I wave to the driver to say that I'm OK and continue across the road and down the street. Looking back at the intersection, I see that the car hasn't moved. Apparently I'm not the only one who was a little shaken this fine morning.
Less than 15 seconds from my escape the adrenaline is coursing systemically, I notice my hands are shaking. I'm not mad at the driver, I'm grateful they managed to stop in time. I'm a little numb but happy. My stroll to work resumes and my iPod plays uninterrupted, it's "I Love You 'Cause I Have To" by Dogs Die in Hot Cars.
2) Ace might be coming to visit me in early October.
First Ex-flatmate springs the news that he's coming and now Ace. I'm unbelievably excited at the prospect of seeing them soon.
1) I narrowly escaped being hit by a car.
It was a gorgeously crisp clear morning and I was strolling to work as usual, enjoying the sounds of my beloved iPod. Near my place, a black BMW would soon turn left at an intersection, which is fine, except that I was crossing the road at the time.
I had just arrived at the pedestrian crossing marked along the intersection when I saw the car come down the one way street from the opposite direction I was heading. It obeyed the Stop sign at the intersection, before moving forward to stop in the middle of the intersection. Having seen the car stop, I assumed the driver had seen me and had stopped to allow me to cross, as the law dictates. Bzzzt, wrong. I was in the middle of the road when the car accelerated abruptly, turning left, hurtling towards me.
Instant horror. One second passed and I was frozen in panic. No time to respond except to put my hand out instinctively. Futilely. One and a half seconds pass. The black speeding blur observed in my periphery resolves into a solid black bumper bar less than an inch away from my leg. Two seconds. The shiny BMW badge is close enough to touch. My mind is still frozen but I take a step away from the vehicle, an automated recoil to danger. I exhale deeply and look at the driver who is apologizing profusely from their window. The sounds from my iPod almost drown out their apology. Three more seconds pass before my mind acknowledges that I haven't been run down, I wave to the driver to say that I'm OK and continue across the road and down the street. Looking back at the intersection, I see that the car hasn't moved. Apparently I'm not the only one who was a little shaken this fine morning.
Less than 15 seconds from my escape the adrenaline is coursing systemically, I notice my hands are shaking. I'm not mad at the driver, I'm grateful they managed to stop in time. I'm a little numb but happy. My stroll to work resumes and my iPod plays uninterrupted, it's "I Love You 'Cause I Have To" by Dogs Die in Hot Cars.
2) Ace might be coming to visit me in early October.
First Ex-flatmate springs the news that he's coming and now Ace. I'm unbelievably excited at the prospect of seeing them soon.
11 September 2007
Good times
Out of the blue the other day, I got the awesome news that Ex-flatmate may be visiting the US of A in early October. Needless to say I'm awaiting his visit with much anticipation. Hanging out with my mates is a glaring deficit in my Boston-life, so I'm bloody excited at the prospect of partying with Ex-flatmate soon.
After much persuasion by Ex-flatmate (i.e. his 11 comments on a previous post that exclaimed "Facebook!!") I finally joined the incestuous den of online networking, that is Facebook. The main reason for my resistance in joining the Facebook community is that there are a lot of people there, mostly from high school, who I'd prefer to avoid.
It's actually not a bad thing that I setup a Facebook account, as it allowed me to discover that my mate The Scot had his birthday the other month, an event I totally forgot, sorry mate! The Scot has a legendary ability to absorb vast amounts of alcohol, and has more drinking exploits than anyone I know. More often than not, a night out on the town involves The Scot, Ex-flatmate and myself getting totally shitfaced and dancing badly till dawn. Classy and responsible of us I know. We three also have very similar musical preferences meaning that we have moshed and air-guitared to countless concerts and music festivals together. Our signature concert beverage is Jack Daniel's and cola, which again, we tend to get fairly intoxicated with during the gig. Sophisticated? that's us. Good times.
After much persuasion by Ex-flatmate (i.e. his 11 comments on a previous post that exclaimed "Facebook!!") I finally joined the incestuous den of online networking, that is Facebook. The main reason for my resistance in joining the Facebook community is that there are a lot of people there, mostly from high school, who I'd prefer to avoid.
It's actually not a bad thing that I setup a Facebook account, as it allowed me to discover that my mate The Scot had his birthday the other month, an event I totally forgot, sorry mate! The Scot has a legendary ability to absorb vast amounts of alcohol, and has more drinking exploits than anyone I know. More often than not, a night out on the town involves The Scot, Ex-flatmate and myself getting totally shitfaced and dancing badly till dawn. Classy and responsible of us I know. We three also have very similar musical preferences meaning that we have moshed and air-guitared to countless concerts and music festivals together. Our signature concert beverage is Jack Daniel's and cola, which again, we tend to get fairly intoxicated with during the gig. Sophisticated? that's us. Good times.
2 September 2007
Identity crisis
The start of September means a flurry of activity in Boston. It's the end of summer vacation and the start of a new college (university in Aussie-speak) year. Clusters of college students roam the sidewalks (footpaths in Aussie-speak), and rented moving vans clog the streets. It's as if there's a U-Haul rental van/truck/trailer convention in town. Seriously, is there actually any other bloody vehicle-hire company in this place? Oh yeah, Americans don't understand the use of 'hire' in this context, they use 'rental'.
September has been a period of time where the college-town Boston reawakens, and is also an opportune moment to enjoy looking around at the cute new college-boys, and lament about lost youth. One brief moment that made me feel less ancient occurred at dinner the other night when a waitress decided to engage in polite conversation and mistook me for a Freshman (First-year in Aussiespeak). For one brief spark I was chuffed at the comment, until I suspiciously wondered if this was a tip-garnering exercise, so I quietly corrected her that I had actually finished grad school (i.e. my PhD studies) and thus immediately felt my age again. Yes I am a cynical, jaded bastard. And yes, I did leave a good tip thank you very much.
If a cute waiter asks me if I'm a Freshman in the future, I think I'll lie. Who knows right? wink, wink (shyeah right..). Who cares about an old, bitter postdoc anyway? Ewww, just reading that last sentence turned me off (myself? what? now I'm confused). I'm not actually that old, but I guess it's that premature-senility kicking in again...
September has been a period of time where the college-town Boston reawakens, and is also an opportune moment to enjoy looking around at the cute new college-boys, and lament about lost youth. One brief moment that made me feel less ancient occurred at dinner the other night when a waitress decided to engage in polite conversation and mistook me for a Freshman (First-year in Aussiespeak). For one brief spark I was chuffed at the comment, until I suspiciously wondered if this was a tip-garnering exercise, so I quietly corrected her that I had actually finished grad school (i.e. my PhD studies) and thus immediately felt my age again. Yes I am a cynical, jaded bastard. And yes, I did leave a good tip thank you very much.
If a cute waiter asks me if I'm a Freshman in the future, I think I'll lie. Who knows right? wink, wink (shyeah right..). Who cares about an old, bitter postdoc anyway? Ewww, just reading that last sentence turned me off (myself? what? now I'm confused). I'm not actually that old, but I guess it's that premature-senility kicking in again...
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