Season’s Beatings

“Season’s Beatings” seems like an appropriate sentiment, although with the (much) warmer than usual weather (currently 47F — coincidence, Pomona People? I think NOT!) and pleasant literary diversions at hand, I cannot or should not complain too much. Season’s Beatings — I am avoiding holiday shopping, that whole gift thing, etc. I am still figuring out the list of recipients.

How warm is it? On the 3rd of December I stopped by Michelangelo’s, tried to get an iced coffee, and was told it was a seasonal drink — they had none. Yesterday I stopped by Fair Trade and they, too (same owners), had no iced coffee. But today, yes TODAY dear readers, iced coffee was available.

I walked through the door at about 6:18pm and the guy behind the bar said, “Sorry, we only have cinnamon fritters. I think we have an apple danish.” I took the fritter, though, nuked, and he immediately inquired, “Iced Coffee?” I said no, expecting there to be none available, that in fact he, barista extraordinaire, master of caffeine, was mistaken about his own stash and stock, but I was quickly won over, and his heroine chic, blue sweater wearing coworker soon provided a tall glass of the dark seductive brew.

I’m not a blogger. It sounds like what one says before attending an AA meeting (yes, Lindsay Lohan has been sober A WHOLE WEEK! and *supposedly* attending meetings for months … you do the so-called math). The first step is in admitting the problem, but I do not have a problem to admit, for when I say, I am not a blogger, I mean this in a snooty, snobbish way — I’ve been posting journalesque prose and verse on the internet since before the dot-com-bust, before Bush Jr., before the word “blog.” As an old-timer, I position myself here as slumming it, joining the polloi (hoi polloi already means “the people” so the hoi polloi reminds me of the La Brea Tar Pits … the the tar tar pits).

That having been said, I reserve personal reflections for a more private site, and on my own public site I post those things of a more permanent nature … ephemeral pop-culture phenomena (YouTube, I tube, we all tube for YouTube!) have no place in my posting persona, so here I am.

I was pleased to see that the NY Times has a new Berlin-centric article available, this time 36 Hours in Berlin … and my Stammtisch, my local cafe-bar-restaurant around the corner from my apartment, was listed. For a moment I think touched upon that feeling of being a proud parent. My baby made good!

More people need to read Questionable Content (the linked strip is of the most questionable, thus, if one can stomach it, then the rest are no problem), and I think that philosophy geeks everywhere need to read the current Dresden Codak.

The other day I met with D and F at Qdoba (Tuesday Dissertator Burritos!) and among other things I pushed upon them the joys of No Pinch and Tony vs Paul.

And so it is, it’s Thursday evening, I found myself in the department despite myself today so as to administer a final exam, and now I really dread grading. It is the only part of the teaching profession that I do not enjoy.

House of Leaves (Danielewski, 2000), here I come! Special Topics in Calamity Physics (Pessl, 2006) was finished last night (thank you, Andrew), and now I need to review it, along with The Historian (Kostova, 2005) for a few other folks. Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work I go …