It Was More Funner During the Strike

The dog days of August are upon us, and the city is sweltering hot. News reports last week predicted an end to the heatwave we were experiencing. It finally broke, giving us the most glorious weather -- for one day. Mother Nature decided to fool us yet again and continue her vicious cycle of heat and humidity. As an additional "Fuck y'all!", she added severe rainstorms to the mix, and they aren't removing humidity from the air.

I woke up this morning to chaos. More problems from the water building. Nothing new, I thought. Apparently, the city's plumbing was overwelmed in some spots, including ours. The pipes burst in the mid-section of the building, spewing water, plaster and other mysterious matter all over the hallways. From the top to the bottom - every single floor. Thankfully, the apartments were okay. It wasn't until I got to the subway station when I realized the problem was much more severe and not unique to my building. No trains.

The crowds swelled on the platform, still, no trains. Commuters began pouring in, and with no more room down below, gathered in the hallways and sat on stairs. It wasn't until the situation was almost to the breaking point when we were informed the entire subway system was down. Forget buses, which were packing people in like sardines and skipping stops. Forget cabs, which were already using the buddy system to reach final destinations. Finally, I resigned myself to the fact that I would just have to walk to work. This wouldn't be too bad, right? Wrong.

I tried to imitate the camaraderie of a few years ago as best I could when the MTA went on strike during a December cold snap. My memories of those few days are of being bundled up and cozy in my goose down coat and Hush Puppies boots, all comfy and assured that I could take what the MTA wanted to dish out to us. Today, however, after the tenth block; stupid pedestrians amok, sweat pouring down my back - I had enough. I wasn't built for hot weather. On Madison, I overheard one person on her cell alerting whomever that the Starbucks on 36th was closed due to plumbing problems, inducing head shaking and eye rolling spasms on my part. By the time I turned that corner, an unbearable fishy sewage smell permeated the air, and I knew that Starbucks had more problems on their hands than they were ever going to realize.

I managed to get to work and greet the slow drizzle of co-workers coming from distances far beyond where I commuted from. What a day. I can't wait for vacation.

A For Effort

The past few weeks I had been getting frustrated that I hadn't received my grade for my class yet. It's interesting to remember how confident I was about the class I took last semester. How I simply waited for the transcript to arrive in the mail, confirming what I had already suspected, the wonderful A we all cherish so greatly. ESC's website has an odd and maze-like interface. In order to get from point A to point B, one has to log in and out of several different screens. So, after much searching around, I accidentally stumbled upon the final letter grade for the Native American history class that recently came to a close.

I got an A.

I should be happy, and on a lot of levels, I am. However, as I discussed previously, I'm not 100 percent certain I feel I earned it. In the professor's eyes, I did work hard. I confess that I turned in a mean paper, which the professor stated was "a very creative, well-written and timely research paper". He also pointed out that my sources were "very interesting". True. It's not everyday one finds such publications titled "Counselling the Inupiat". Not to mention, even though I missed a few class discussions, the majority of the ones I contributed to I gave well thought out responses. I feel anyway.

Nevertheless, I should look at this as a learning experience and respect the academic slump I was in the last few months and stop being so hard on myself. If I were such a piss poor student, like I was convinced I was, I wouldn't have got the grade I did.

Now I can order my transcript in confidence, have it sent off to my future Alma mater, and hopefully, get the credit towards my intended degree. At this point, I just want it over with.

Grand Canyon, Here We Come!

Both the flights and hotels are booked. Whoosh! I can now let out a huge sigh of relief.

My mother, brother and I are flying out of the city into Flagstaff, AZ on August 10. We will return in the wee hours of August 16. Those overnight flights coming back from the West coast are an absolute killer on the human body. At least I'll have all day Thursday to recover. The hardest part of planning was finding a hotel. Booked solid. We happen to be travelling during the busiest season, so thankfully, I blocked out a ton of rooms at several different hotels for various dates. Just to be on the safe side. Now, we need to weed out which is which, and then I can cancel some of those bulk reservations. The search for a rental car is Mom's responsibility, but since finding the hotels was kinda hers too, I might have to step in to get the ball rolling - yet again. Sigh.

Our original goal was to fly into Las Vegas and then fly out of Flagstaff. That way, we could get a taste of Vegas and hit the Hoover Dam on the journey into Arizona. Due to airline prices and the way car rental costs skyrocket when you return to a different airport, this plan was sadly, not doable. However, since we have an extra day to play with, there might be room for a day trip. Right now, it's a big "we'll see".

We have a lot to think about and much to plan. It's going to be interesting to be visting a state that has the second highest concentration of Native Americans in the US. I wonder how Mom will fare? For once, she will blend in! We're pretty low key travellers, so rafting trips and the like are out of the question. Hiking excursions will be pretty much just long walks. Much of it for photo ops. I'll need to brush up on the flora and fauna we will experience as well. Okay, I know we won't have a problem, but the headline "Mountain Lions and You" which is in the Grand Canyon visitor's guide, does freak me out just a skosh.

There is so much to do in that decent amount of time. The sights, the shopping, and all that driving. I definitely want to drive on Route 66 for a bit. I got to experience the route in Santa Monica, CA, which is the official end point. That was so cool. Yeah, I confess, I'm a bit corny about stuff like that. Plus, I'll get to exercise my NPS Passport book. Ooh, more geekiness!

The itinerary is still in the beginning stages, but I'm sure many plans will be finalized on the flight over. And, quite possibly, when we are there.