new toys

thanks to a few very kind family members, i recently had some graduation money to indulge some of my hobbies.  and thanks to a slight delay between finishing the phd and starting a "real" job, i have also had time to indulge them.

NY Cakes acquired a respectable portion of my bounty.  i don't even like cake (maybe it's the frosting - the massive amount of sugar tastes like diabetes in a bite ... but then again, sweet things aren't my own personal vice - i've got others).  but i do like attempting to turn cakes into a pretty creation.  or a strange one.

i have never had so much ambivalence about a store before.  on one hand, the place is stocked well beyond even the best of the basics.  it has gadgets for baking and decorating that i never knew existed.  so at first, it was quite exciting to take in the impressive collection of tools and to pick out which new toys i couldn't live without - paints to color my own fondant, new pans, glorified modeling tools, etc.

but then, as i realized the vast amount of available shortcuts, some of the magic of decorating disappeared.  you see, i went from doing everything the hard way (e.g., using very basic cake shapes and carefully carving them into the shapes i needed and assembling the shapes into 3D objects, always covering cakes by rather painfully squeezing out little drops of buttercream icing at a time, etc.) to obtaining tools to do much of it the easy way (e.g., collecting a variety of usefully shaped pans, stocking up on fondant, etc.).  so now i feel like i'm cheating - that some of the challenge is gone.  and then when i think about how many more shortcuts would be available if i were willing to drop a few hundred dollars or more into this little side hobby (and buy things like machines that would do the heavy labor of rolling out the fondant for me), i admit i get a little bit jealous of bakeries.  suddenly the cake shows that champion their crazy confections are less impressive - yes, practice and skill are still very important, but it is so much easier for them.  dear santa claus, i would like a bakery for Christmas so that i can make birthday cakes as needed.  thanks.

so in any case, i have begun to sell out and am playing with my new toys.  this past weekend, the project was a volcano birthday cake for my geology major sister.  p.s. here's a tip for all you pyromaniacs out there - putting a bunch of birthday candles in very close proximity makes for a delightfully large flame.

self checkout

when J and i were deciding what to do and where to go when we finally finished school, our choices boiled down to NYC and LA.  on one hand, the thought of becoming a california girl had been very enticing - a perpetual tan, the southern california coastline, eternal sunshine, and some really great friends in the area were exceedingly difficult to turn down.  but deep down, i kind of always knew that as much as i might really, really like the idea of being laidback and carefree (and as much as i like to tell myself that if the world weren't so demanding, i would be), the reality is that NYC does serve my personality better (not that this was the reason for the move - the decision was primarily job- and family-related).  but personality-wise, i need efficiency almost as much as i need air.  here, most everything i could possibly need (and just about anything that i could never imagine needing) is a short walk away.  and service is generally quite efficient.

take this morning, for example.  i ran a couple errands in preparation for yet another trip (because no, J and i cannot seem to stay in the same place for more than a week or two at a time this whole summer ... hence, i hardly feel like i live in NY at all).  first, i walked to Bagel Bob's to carry on what has quickly become a tradition for us: exporting fresh, yummy NY bagels to our hosts when we leave the city.  despite a rush hour line from the door to the counter, i was in and out in a matter of minutes.  so i proceeded to CVS to get J some gatorade for the trip (personally, i'm deciding between ginger ale and sangria (for prevention of motion sickness)).

CVS is where my morning got really interesting.  i was second in a line of 3 people (with one person checking out at the counter), and i was even managing to be patient while waiting my turn (because, let's face it, the Bagel Bob efficiency was unfortunately lacking).  i was thinking about the bagels - they were so warm and fresh and i wished i could have given them to our hosts while they were still right out of the oven.  the fifty-something woman in front of me started behaving a little erratically (we'll call her Erratica).  Erratica began mumbling a few words here and there and making partial movements as though she were going to reach for something or walk somewhere, but suddenly changed her mind and stopped mid-movement.  she then left the line twice - once to wander off and grab some nutritional shakes and once to put them back.  and okay, i admit i may have gotten slightly annoyed when Erratica left the line because i didn't want to have to wait any longer if the cashier became free while she was gone ... but the annoyance was fleeting because i decided i would go ahead of her if she didn't make it back in time.

as it turned out, Erratica did manage to make it back in time AND i went ahead of her.  the cashier dealing with the customer at the counter must have been having some trouble.  so another cashier, standing by the self checkout counter, stepped up and said "next."  silly me, i thought Erratica would proceed with her purchases, and i would wait for the next available cashier.  but Erratica responded as though she feared for her life.  she quickly and loudly protested, "no!"  she paused for effect, and only continued when the cashiers exchanged startled expressions.  "i do not wish to go there! i do not wish to use those machines! i am waiting in line - " i didn't quite make out the rest of the tirade (something about a human?) because although i was amused by the event, i had other errands on my list.  so my ears were primed to pick up cashier #2's response: "okay, that's fine.  who is next in line?" and i proceeded to the self checkout (that incidentally, wasn't self checkout - the cashier scanned the gatorade, took my money, and handed me my receipt ... so i can only conclude there must be something ominous about the machines themselves).  i completed my purchase.  as i took my receipt and cashier #2 uttered, "next," it was deja vu.

Erratica protested again, "no!   i do NOT wish to use those machines!" she was oblivious to the cashiers' assurances that they were talking to the person behind her.  Erratica continued, "i do NOT wish to use those machines!  i wish to wait in this line (for a human being?)! where is the manager?  is there a manager? i want to talk to a manager!"

i don't know what happened next because my Type A triumphed over my curiosity this time and i walked out the door.  i can only hope those evil cashiers didn't drag that woman, flailing and screaming, to the self checkout machines, scan her retinas instead of the bar codes, gag her with a receipt, and stuff her into a plastic bag.


(side note: many people erroneously believe Type A personality is associated with cardiovascular problems.  but Type A is actually a big collection of traits that includes not only preference for efficiency, being driven, perfectionistic, etc. (the traits that perhaps are typically thought to make up Type A personality) but also things like hostility and cynicism.  we've known since the 70s that it is only hostility/cynicism portion of type A that is associated with cardiovascular problems (okay, well, someone has known since the 70s - i didn't exactly exist then, but the data have been around that long).  so no worries, NYC will not be giving me a heart attack anytime soon.)

red means go

it's hard to feel like i'm really a new yorker when i haven't lived there in nearly a month now.  from defending the dissertation to visiting my family to visiting J's family, i was home for a mere half a day in the last few weeks.  which of course leaves me with two choices, should i feel like writing today.  1. make something up.  but i just promised you that you can trust everything i ever say because i'm an expert now.  i'd hate to start of on the wrong foot by misleading you.  2. exploit older blog fodder until i return this coming week.

so today's topic is driving in the city.  i'm sure you are all aware that different states have different driving laws.  responsible citizens are apparently expected to investigate differences in state driving laws before crossing state borders.  however, because i don't know that many responsible citizens who actually regularly indulge this expectation (probably because in the vast majority of cases, the laws aren't too different), i'l save you all some trouble in case you should decide to take a road trip to my fine city.  from what i've observed, the laws within the city borders are drastically different than anywhere else i have driven.  so today, i have prepared a little primer on interpreting traffic lights.

perhaps the most confusing aspect of driving in new york is figuring out what those pesky traffic lights are trying to tell you.  people everywhere appear to disagree about whether a yellow light is a cue to suddenly slam one's foot down on the brake or the gas pedal.  in the city, err on the side of the gas pedal.  this is easy enough.

when you approach a clogged intersection, you may, at first, attempt to patiently wait your turn.  when you find that you are sitting through cycle after cycle of changing lights and your vehicle has not moved more than the inch or few when you impatiently crept up on the bumper in front of you, you may begin to feel agitated.  this is normal.  it is merely a symptom of your lack of familiarity with city driving customs.  after becoming agitated, you may soon catch on  to the fact that the other drivers aren't playing by the rules - but this is only if you expected everyone to play by the same rules that you learned at home.  specifically, that green means go and red means stop.  i know it must sound painfully incongruent with everything you know about the world, but in the city, red means go and green means go if you can weasel your way into the moving traffic.

you see, when your light is green, the intersection will be full of street cholesterol (the cars that are perpendicular to yours, attempting to  cross or turn onto your street).  if you can maneuver your car into the gridlock, go ahead and do it.  just inch your car closer and closer to the other side of the intersection, even if you get tangled up in the cross traffic.  things sort themselves out.  if you can't move during the green light, pass the time by honking your horn.  but before you do, look around and try to guess how wealthy the neighborhood is.  if the people on the sidewalks are well dressed and the buildings look fancy, you are probably going to encounter a "no honking" sign because the people who live here have not yet developed the immunity to noise pollution that has been cultivated in less affluent areas.  you may be fined if you oppress them.

when the light turns yellow, drivers suddenly realize just how frustrated they are because the gridlock has prevented them from moving when they believed they were entitled to move.  thus, yellow means accelerate further into the gridlock to ensure you don't get cheated again.  so begin to accelerate on yellow, and then when the light is red, keep creeping toward the direction you want to go because now that you and all of your similarly directed friends have moved into the intersection on a yellow light, you are all blocking the cross traffic, and they are getting agitated.  try to be considerate and keep moving out of their way during the red light.

wash, rinse, repeat.

after 4-5 cycles, what will emerge is a pattern in which the "go on green, stop on red" pattern has been completely reversed.  this system works best when every driver plays by the appropriate nyc driving rules.  the system will break down into chaos and cause delays for everyone if anyone attempts to selfishly drive by rules their own egocentric rules (e.g., braking on red).

success

yup, i'm a doctor.  and defending the dissertation was even kind of fun.  and in that magical hour and a half i was transformed from a lowly student into one of those mysterious "experts" that people are always talking about - "experts agree ..." "according to experts ...".  that's right, you can all start citing me now.  not anything i wrote prior to today i guess - i didn't know anything then.  but anything i write beginning today must be true ... because the experts say so.  this is going to be fun ...

back to school

and now the real dissertation fun begins ... currently saying a temporary good bye to the city and traveling back to grad school.  will hopefully return with a few extra letters beside my name.

preparing

in my several years as a graduate student, i have witnessed more than a few students complete the rite of passage that is the dissertation defense.  most have seemed harried and frazzled in the final days. they frantically polished their work in preparation for presenting it to their toughest critics.  for most, the final days are a stressful time.  it is a time when the digestive system suddenly fails.  sleep becomes evasive.  skin loses pigment.  hours staring at computer screens pass like minutes.  preparing to defend is often a miserable experience.

but - in case any of my recent antics have failed to communicate this - i am not one to be overly concerned with conventions for the sake of conventions (i am a fan of politeness, but that is because politeness usually serves functions i consider worthwhile ... but what possible positive function can be served by excessive stress or anxiety?).  and besides, i already achieved (arguably, more than) my quota of graduate student misery - i have been ready and waiting to defend for a very long time.  so what am i doing a mere four days before my defense?  i started the day with a mommy/daughter manicure/pedicure in the village.  we met j for lunch and then spent the afternoon shopping.  we walked several miles, and i enjoyed skin-bronzing, hair-lightening sunshine.  when thoughts of the impending defense crept into my consciousness, the movie legally blonde came to mind.  i may be the first student in the department to (if all goes well) become a tan, freshly manicured/pedicured doctor.  

the manicure/pedicure was an awkward but fun experience.  i assume that the receptionist said hello when i called, but i can't be completely sure.  it wasn't in english or in any of the languages i understand well enough to detect a greeting.  i didn't hear the name of the nail salon in the greeting either.  but we had a nice chat anyway.  i asked if it were the salon.  she responded in non-english.  i apologized for having the wrong number.  she said something else in non-english.  in retrospect, the fact that we politely spoke, stopped speaking while the other was talking, and repeated the process several times is highly entertaining considering neither of us understood a word the other was saying.  not that this doesn't happen when people are speaking the same language - haven't we all had a conversation with that person who is just too busy thinking about what they want to say next that they don't feel the need to listen to what their conversation partner is actually saying?  and haven't we all resorted to speaking utter nonsense and then laughing on the inside when the person just keeps talking as though a real conversation were taking place? (e.g., "i just love this restaurant." "yes, i completely agree.  i once owned a scuba-diving donkey." "they have the best sushi.").  oh ... or is that just me? 

i prepared to hang up, but was greeted again (in non-english) by another voice.  thoroughly confused at this point, i paused.  the voice then said, "hello?"  so i asked again if it were the nail salon.  i then heard, "hello, [name of nail salon here]. how can i help you? hello?" and i somehow managed to set up appointments for us.  the place had great reviews ... and we didn't want to waste half the day choosing a replacement from the remaining 3 million nail salons in manhattan just because of a slight little language barrier.

during the appointment, we communicated mostly in gestures and smiles, with minimal intermittent translation by the youngest manicurist.  while small talk can be awkward at times, the absence of it was even more conspicuous.  it was a strange experience to not be able to communicate anything of even small talk substance with the person who was painting my nails.  it probably didn't help that we decided to tip using stacks of the newish gold dollar coins.  my mom told her manicurist that she was giving her pirate gold as a tip (a type of comment that had been well received by other vendors in non-language-barrier contexts).  her manicurist smiled and nodded.  she said something to her coworker that i can only assume meant, "these girls are lunatics.  just smile and they will go away." 

where's waldo?

when touristing, many people hurriedly take pictures in crowded locations.  it can be a flustered experience - snapping the picture quickly before someone steps in front of your camera and before competing groups elbow in to get a picture in the same coveted location.  then, if your loved ones had posed for the picture, they might want to swarm the camera to scrutinize their own appearance and to make sure that whatever perceived flaw they possess was minimized in the picture.  else, they may want you to take the picture again.  the entire process can be a stressful ordeal.

in fact, it can be such a flustering experience that many people miss other things that are going on around them.  for example, when your friends swarm the camera, they may be focusing so intently on their own appearance that they will probably fail to notice anything out of ordinary in the crowd pictured around them.  this is called selective attention.  you pay so much attention to some information that you overlook other information, and can even overlook comically salient information in the world around you.  (try this out (or, show this video to someone without telling them what selective attention is): http://viscog.beckman.illinois.edu/flashmovie/15.php ).

if you have recently traveled to the city, you may eventually discover something odd about your pictures.  you may find that a new new yorker and her mother are also posing in the picture.  go ahead and play where's waldo with your recent photos - look for two heads of blonde hair, a flower headband, and the slightly sticking out tongues.