Monday, February 20, 2006
*sitting on my bench pipetting some shit*
"so i heard you didn't really like harvard?"
"yeah..."
"hrmm how come?"
"the people there are weird. i had one interview where i was standing up the whole time, and another one where his puppy under his desk wanted to go to the loo every 10 seconds"
*supervisor chuckles*
"that might make harvard havard"
-grad student at this time interjects:
"oh i was talking to prof W and he was saying like, he was actually tenured in harvard but he chose to come here"
"oh why?"
"oh he said that over there the faculty engaged in a whole load of cockwaving. and he didnt' like it"
*chuckles*
"so where's lookin' now?" <--- other boss
"cold spring"
"hrmmmm. lemme say that, given a choice between iraq and cold spring right now.."
"erhuh"
"i would go to iraq"
"haha"
"........"
"but really its no walk in the park"
"its 4 years. won't be too long"
*supervisor returns*
"yeah its 4 years because you have no other thing to do but spend time in the lab"
"yeah i guess. i think i'd look at the other schools before deciding"
"why not UCSF?"
"oh, its a good place for a holiday, but the people there are abit too laid back"
"ah.. i heard that before"
"oh well, we will see"
(Actually i'm all set on CSHL already. aha)
"so i heard you didn't really like harvard?"
"yeah..."
"hrmm how come?"
"the people there are weird. i had one interview where i was standing up the whole time, and another one where his puppy under his desk wanted to go to the loo every 10 seconds"
*supervisor chuckles*
"that might make harvard havard"
-grad student at this time interjects:
"oh i was talking to prof W and he was saying like, he was actually tenured in harvard but he chose to come here"
"oh why?"
"oh he said that over there the faculty engaged in a whole load of cockwaving. and he didnt' like it"
*chuckles*
"so where's lookin' now?" <--- other boss
"cold spring"
"hrmmmm. lemme say that, given a choice between iraq and cold spring right now.."
"erhuh"
"i would go to iraq"
"haha"
"........"
"but really its no walk in the park"
"its 4 years. won't be too long"
*supervisor returns*
"yeah its 4 years because you have no other thing to do but spend time in the lab"
"yeah i guess. i think i'd look at the other schools before deciding"
"why not UCSF?"
"oh, its a good place for a holiday, but the people there are abit too laid back"
"ah.. i heard that before"
"oh well, we will see"
(Actually i'm all set on CSHL already. aha)
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
-retroactive post, should have posted this when I interviewed at Cold Spring Harbor a week ago-
Despite the icy rain, walking along Times Square in NYC, after watching Chicago the musical (and the scantily clad actresses helped), after 2 whole days of getting my ass grilled by CSHL professors/machine guns, after the bourgeois and rustic charms of Long Island New York, felt very very very good. And floating in a sea of humanity and blinding lights, (No I wasn't high.) I was alone thinking in my head about the reality/play extent of Chicago a la Nabokov's Invitation to a Beheading blah blah blah(yes, i'm a boring prick. so shoot me) when she suddenly appeared. Kooky eyes , kooky smile.
"err, so, err I didn't catch your name."
I was taken aback. more by the eyes and the smile, then by the approach.
you see, i always thought ABCs were stuck up, because I obviously looked like a crumpled Chinky ass, and they were always so well dressed and the ones in Madison always refused to talk to me. and I thought she was no different, being nicely tailored through the two days and looking sharp.
"first time in new york city?"
"yeah, never seen so much bright lights in my life."
and she laughed that laugh again. koooky.
"so where are you from?"
"New York state, someways near here."
(that explains the sharp dressing. East Coast. should've known. but that kooky smile!! kooooky!!!!)
"oh"
We talked, but I couldn't remember what we talked about. it doesn't matter. what i remembered was those eyes. and that kooky smile. arrggggggghhh.
and i think i will never see her again. because being a doofus, i didn't manage to even get her email address and I didn't even manage to get her full name. and she's not going to interview at any places where I'm going.
well, so long Lisa; it was good meeting you. good bye and good luck.
(hopefully i get to see her again. i'm more or less decided on CSHL.)
Despite the icy rain, walking along Times Square in NYC, after watching Chicago the musical (and the scantily clad actresses helped), after 2 whole days of getting my ass grilled by CSHL professors/machine guns, after the bourgeois and rustic charms of Long Island New York, felt very very very good. And floating in a sea of humanity and blinding lights, (No I wasn't high.) I was alone thinking in my head about the reality/play extent of Chicago a la Nabokov's Invitation to a Beheading blah blah blah(yes, i'm a boring prick. so shoot me) when she suddenly appeared. Kooky eyes , kooky smile.
"err, so, err I didn't catch your name."
I was taken aback. more by the eyes and the smile, then by the approach.
you see, i always thought ABCs were stuck up, because I obviously looked like a crumpled Chinky ass, and they were always so well dressed and the ones in Madison always refused to talk to me. and I thought she was no different, being nicely tailored through the two days and looking sharp.
"first time in new york city?"
"yeah, never seen so much bright lights in my life."
and she laughed that laugh again. koooky.
"so where are you from?"
"New York state, someways near here."
(that explains the sharp dressing. East Coast. should've known. but that kooky smile!! kooooky!!!!)
"oh"
We talked, but I couldn't remember what we talked about. it doesn't matter. what i remembered was those eyes. and that kooky smile. arrggggggghhh.
and i think i will never see her again. because being a doofus, i didn't manage to even get her email address and I didn't even manage to get her full name. and she's not going to interview at any places where I'm going.
well, so long Lisa; it was good meeting you. good bye and good luck.
(hopefully i get to see her again. i'm more or less decided on CSHL.)
From a distance, Ram looked like he used to; but as he sauntered up to where my student host at UCSF and I were standing outside of Amoeba at Haight-Ashbury ("its pronouced hate not hoight!-student host) I could see he shaved- and no longer looked like an al-Qaeda operative. But some things always stay the same- his mental state dragged all the way up by pot-for one- and his swaying gait (i see he gained weight, that bitch) for another. We met up for a short while, walking through the park where the hippies used to hang out and drop acid, up the slopes onto the UCSF Parnassus campus while as usual, his description of Trader Jo's at Greary and Masonic, and his Ram-esque description of the organic gems sold there, struck a cord with my equally inclined student host, and made my stomach rumble.
I don't want to produce his descriptions here not only because I don't really remember, but its because I want it to exist as only just a psychic footprint in my unconscious, to be recognized again when encountered in the future by him- if i ever see him again.
the next night he came up and visited my hotel room and I; it was a small affair and we were both tired , so there was none of the promised food and good beer and attempts to get me laid (always rubbish, for some reason) in San Francisco. So we talked and relived the days in Madison of me trying to get laid and high (and being unsuccessful, of course) while he was the one getting laid and high and now he's the one who's engaged and i'm still unsettled in the world--the more things change the more things stay the same.
and I guess we both have moved on, not unwillingly, but inevitably. and the realization that the things we did in Madison, we will can never do again. None of the Curry N' Hurry trips, none of the New Glarus beer, none of the restaurant hopping. ever. again.
I guess its goodbye, Ram. I will see you when I see you, bitch. And I will.
I don't want to produce his descriptions here not only because I don't really remember, but its because I want it to exist as only just a psychic footprint in my unconscious, to be recognized again when encountered in the future by him- if i ever see him again.
the next night he came up and visited my hotel room and I; it was a small affair and we were both tired , so there was none of the promised food and good beer and attempts to get me laid (always rubbish, for some reason) in San Francisco. So we talked and relived the days in Madison of me trying to get laid and high (and being unsuccessful, of course) while he was the one getting laid and high and now he's the one who's engaged and i'm still unsettled in the world--the more things change the more things stay the same.
and I guess we both have moved on, not unwillingly, but inevitably. and the realization that the things we did in Madison, we will can never do again. None of the Curry N' Hurry trips, none of the New Glarus beer, none of the restaurant hopping. ever. again.
I guess its goodbye, Ram. I will see you when I see you, bitch. And I will.
