Hacking on the thesis in November
Nov. 12th, 2011 08:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vlionIt's getting cold and the clouds are moving in as I leave the coffeeshop on a November afternoon, my computer in a bag on my back. It's been a good few hours reading my thesis and adding blocks. Last night's editing session by a nearly graduated PhD student had exposed critical errors in the narrative development that had gotten filled in. The hard bench, the noise, and the computer screen had conspired to bring the initial wave of creativity to a halt. I walk down the block and stop at the crosswalk, waiting for the light. It appears to be starting to snow and I sigh. I'd love to go into the other coffeeshop across the way, but I need to clear my mind of the uncreative grunge that accumulates as you stare at the screen and try to form order from desiderata.
I cross the street and walk down into the toy & gaming shop. The manager is in a brisk conversation about Magic the Gathering. Evidently the card that lets you do more than one turn on your turn is worth $450 to this man. I don't really see the appeal, but I can understand buying a new gun, which starts at about $300. So I guess I can understand in a connect-the-understandings kind of way. I loop through the shelves and marvel at the little HO train that the previous manager put together. He was a little nutty, I think. He had let the shop really go to pieces, all dust, cobwebs, and shadow. The new guy is a lot geekier and has actually put in lights. Feels like a new store. Model planes and trains line an area. I see a model - some paintable female supermodel left over from the previous manager and sigh - a side thread of my mind spins a three-paragraph fantasy about the 'special paintable models' that are offered for the adult customers before I shut it down and move on through the store. It's less squicky now, and that's good. The manager is still engaged with the Magic discussion and I move up the stairs to go wander upon my way, moving past several oblivious young women on the stairs who block my way until I call attention to my existence.
I muse - how you can be so oblivious to other people's presence? I feel other people's physical presence acutely, and being next to a stranger makes me profoundly uncomfortable. Call it other-presence-phobia. People next to you can simply do anything they want. Cops train for people who come up next to them and pull a knife. You can't defend against that without training. Closeness is where your family is. You can't defend against them either.
The day is colder as I get out and I shiver in my coat. I should have worn a long sleeved shirt, but I was feeling lazy this morning. Anyway, it says "Programmer", and in this town of aging hippies, Greek organizations, seminary students and other normals, I cling to my statement of identity. Not that it is rational... it's cold out.
The leaves aren't falling very much anymore... it's November. Leaves that have lasted until now are stubborn cusses that give the wind filthy looks and hang on for dear death. Up ahead the Mexican resteraunt has some outdoor seating (deserted of course) and the blaring Mexican music. I put a little dance in my step. Totally silly, of course. The dance fades as I walk down the street. The creative zoom still isn't there, but the wind is. I start thinking about what I'm looking for. It's a stuffed chair - maybe a sofa! - a somewhat dim room, and coffee readily available. Unthrottled internet as I curl up on the sofa and read papers. There's a coffeeshop like that in downtown, back where I came from. But first things first- is the new BBQ place open? I quicken my step and start moving with more purpose. The pawn shop passes by without me looking inside at the guitars (why do pawn shops attract guitars? Is there a Guitar Gravitational Force that is localized on pawn shops? Are guitarists just always broke?). I glance in one of the other coffeeshops - all the comfortable seats are full, and anyway, they have jarring music. I like non-jarring music.
Rounding the corner towards the new BBQ place, I feel the chill wind bite into me. Temperature is dropping. I think it's actually succeeding in the snow attempt today. I pause and consider for a moment- I'm in a thin short-sleeved shirt in what appears to be a minor snowstorm. My shoes are thin office shoes (amazingly comfortable though, that's what properly sized shoes get you). If I stop off in my favorite sofa'd coffeeshop, it will be noisy and the walk back home will be acutely cold. I feel rather a fool for not biking and rather smart for not taking a bike out to get rained/snowed/precipitated on. At home I can brew spicy teas, drink mountain dew, and really get some work done. I turn and move towards my apartment in a decisive fashion. The weather is driving in and the temperature is dropping. It's a good day to be inside
I cross the street and walk down into the toy & gaming shop. The manager is in a brisk conversation about Magic the Gathering. Evidently the card that lets you do more than one turn on your turn is worth $450 to this man. I don't really see the appeal, but I can understand buying a new gun, which starts at about $300. So I guess I can understand in a connect-the-understandings kind of way. I loop through the shelves and marvel at the little HO train that the previous manager put together. He was a little nutty, I think. He had let the shop really go to pieces, all dust, cobwebs, and shadow. The new guy is a lot geekier and has actually put in lights. Feels like a new store. Model planes and trains line an area. I see a model - some paintable female supermodel left over from the previous manager and sigh - a side thread of my mind spins a three-paragraph fantasy about the 'special paintable models' that are offered for the adult customers before I shut it down and move on through the store. It's less squicky now, and that's good. The manager is still engaged with the Magic discussion and I move up the stairs to go wander upon my way, moving past several oblivious young women on the stairs who block my way until I call attention to my existence.
I muse - how you can be so oblivious to other people's presence? I feel other people's physical presence acutely, and being next to a stranger makes me profoundly uncomfortable. Call it other-presence-phobia. People next to you can simply do anything they want. Cops train for people who come up next to them and pull a knife. You can't defend against that without training. Closeness is where your family is. You can't defend against them either.
The day is colder as I get out and I shiver in my coat. I should have worn a long sleeved shirt, but I was feeling lazy this morning. Anyway, it says "Programmer", and in this town of aging hippies, Greek organizations, seminary students and other normals, I cling to my statement of identity. Not that it is rational... it's cold out.
The leaves aren't falling very much anymore... it's November. Leaves that have lasted until now are stubborn cusses that give the wind filthy looks and hang on for dear death. Up ahead the Mexican resteraunt has some outdoor seating (deserted of course) and the blaring Mexican music. I put a little dance in my step. Totally silly, of course. The dance fades as I walk down the street. The creative zoom still isn't there, but the wind is. I start thinking about what I'm looking for. It's a stuffed chair - maybe a sofa! - a somewhat dim room, and coffee readily available. Unthrottled internet as I curl up on the sofa and read papers. There's a coffeeshop like that in downtown, back where I came from. But first things first- is the new BBQ place open? I quicken my step and start moving with more purpose. The pawn shop passes by without me looking inside at the guitars (why do pawn shops attract guitars? Is there a Guitar Gravitational Force that is localized on pawn shops? Are guitarists just always broke?). I glance in one of the other coffeeshops - all the comfortable seats are full, and anyway, they have jarring music. I like non-jarring music.
Rounding the corner towards the new BBQ place, I feel the chill wind bite into me. Temperature is dropping. I think it's actually succeeding in the snow attempt today. I pause and consider for a moment- I'm in a thin short-sleeved shirt in what appears to be a minor snowstorm. My shoes are thin office shoes (amazingly comfortable though, that's what properly sized shoes get you). If I stop off in my favorite sofa'd coffeeshop, it will be noisy and the walk back home will be acutely cold. I feel rather a fool for not biking and rather smart for not taking a bike out to get rained/snowed/precipitated on. At home I can brew spicy teas, drink mountain dew, and really get some work done. I turn and move towards my apartment in a decisive fashion. The weather is driving in and the temperature is dropping. It's a good day to be inside
no subject
Date: 2011-11-13 07:07 am (UTC)Ow.
Yeah. Ow.
no subject
Date: 2011-11-13 07:15 am (UTC)