One Phone Call

if i were an ordinary indian citizen, with a muslim name, travelling to the u.s., and if i got held up at newark airport for secondary screening en route to chicago, and if i used my one phone call to call the indian consulate to help get me out of the airport as soon as possible -- would i succeed?

also, would i cause international headlines?

please, someone tell srk that, no matter how gorgeous his eyebrows, he's not above the law. and please, someone also tell the indian consulate in nyc that, if he has recourse to their emergency-vip-law-bending unit, we should all get to put their phone numbers in our phones, too -- and to use them when necessary.

It's Been A Month

not my longest absence -- but certainly an unpardonable one, given that i spent so many mornings and evenings in july sitting in front of my computer, staring at it or into the middle distance (grey's anatomy or gmail on the screen, so who cares? nothing was really *changing* or anything...)

now i'm back in philadelphia for the long haul, my hair pinned back in a sensible but odd-looking (because stunted) bun, in front of a different computer, thinking all the time thinking thinking. the to-do list grows longer shorter longer shorter. i should be in bed, but i am paralyzed by the fear that, once i go to bed, i will not want to wake up early in the morning and be productive. i am in a rut, the august rut that in school would have been the june rut: there's tons to get done, but i want so badly to deny that anything is actually important that in the end i get my way, and do facebook and livejournal and blogger, at the ridiculous and avoidable expense of more stress in the days to come.

no matter, i swam today. and someone outside -- maybe a member of the band i read lives across the street from me? but no, they were punk, or something -- is playing a trumpet or trombone or some other kind of wind instrument, alone, random, soothing. no matter.

the universe colludes: i have been thinking about monster books. tim carmody suggested erving goffmann's stigma. now i'm reading mel micir's old blog and i find this, as irrelevant to my life right now as bacon (the author, not the meat) but something i know i want to tuck away -- or put on display -- for inevitable future use:

"It is rare in 'natural' conversation that the best answer is provided on the spot, rare that witty repartee occurs. . . . Indeed, when during informal talk a reply is provided that is as good as the one that could be later thought up, then a memorable event has occurred." (Goffmann)

tuesday i will entertain in this apartment for the first time since the fall. who cares if the living room ceiling is dripping plaster everywhere!? i want more out of my graduate life, especially if this is to be my last year in philadelphia.