indian summer

i have returned from my adventure in west asia only ten per cent less disease-free (down from twenty a few days ago). although i returned six days ago i decided to wait to write this post in order to determine whether or not i was changed by the experience. the answer to that inquiry is, like the answer to everything else, ‘conditionally’ (or the colloquial “it depends”). i am not the same person i was in mid july. but i would also be slightly different even if i’d stayed in my u.s. rut. i can call myself worldly, but the truth is that india was just like i’d expected it. my eyes were not opened to poverty or developing nations. i was just forced not to ignore those things for a while. this is a controversial way to live but i’ve found no other way to be productive at the moment.

since i am lazy, i will describe the rest of my trip in words i have already used. the following is adapted from a letter to a friend:

two weekends ago a couple of us travellers went sightseeing. we went to see some temples and ruins and an open air market (dilli haat). i bought some things for a couple people (very cheap in india) by haggling, which is a skill. i got some incense down from like 200 rupees to 150 (3.5 USD). some other highlights:

-the baha'i temple. it looks like a lotus flower. it is kept silent most of the day and there are well manicured lawns around it. no shoes allowed inside the temple.

-ruins of a fort including tombs from the 1300s. i can't remember what this was called, but it was a massive thing built on a hill, with a (since dried up) moat around it. lots of bats reside inside the stone tombs. also, monkeys live around that area.

-iskcon temple, built by hare krishna followers. from the website..."Drifting an evening sitting on the stairs of this halloweed place, and pulsating to the euphonic chants amidst a tranquil ambience is a unique experience" i have to agree.

on sunday we were in the city looking for a place to eat. a guy came up to us claiming to know a "great place". so we followed him. we came to this golf-cart-like contraption that is essentially a taxi (there are thousands around the city). we thought where we were headed was close, but apparently he was going to drive us somewhere. so we got in. a few minutes later we are finally dropped off at this shady looking restaurant. fearing for our lives at this point, we walk in and walk right back out, gradually finding our way back to the place we started. i guess the point of this story is don't take rides from strangers in india. even if they offer tic tacs.

i lost three pounds even though i was sedentary on an airplane for 34 combined hours roundtrip. the food over there is pretty good but hight in carbs and low in protein. it is hard to buy whey protein from street vendors, so my diet suffered. i am now slightly weaker but not really worse for the trip and i am relishing my return to the category of “one indistinguishable from the rest”.

observation

i’ve noticed over the past couple days that indian women are just much more attractive on the whole than indian men. i’ve never been to the far east, but from my experience asian americans also exhibit this trait. as for caucasians, i do not find one sex better looking in the aggregate. perhaps i am just too imbedded in my race to have an objective opinion, but it could also be we have a fairly flat gender-attractiveness curve. i know someone will point out how this is totally subjective and that they love only asian men, but outliers aside i think i have my thumb on the pulse of attractiveness. at least enough to make generalizations like the preceding.

day one

from door to door my trip out to delhi took twenty four hours, including a fourteen hour flight. that is a long time to let your mind wander. mine ran mostly around thoughts of lost luggage and general discomfort at the sight of poverty. customs in india was pretty quick and after i arrived i soon got my first taste of the country on the ride to my hotel. the roads are utter chaos here, with no lanes and no one paying attention to traffic lights. every car is some shade of off-white and half the size in width and length of their american counterparts. the constant honking, high-beaming, and tapping of cows, bicycles, motorbikes, and autos was pretty surreal.

i have come to the conclusion that i have no internal clock. my body had no problem accepting that i should go to sleep at one a.m. local time friday morning even though that was three thirty p.m. new york time. i got up early and went to the hotel gym. making sure not to ingest any tap water, i went about my morning routine. the ride to work was like the ride to the hotel multiplied twice over. rush hour in the daylight is a sight here. there are people everywhere walking, many looking like they have no place to go. the roads are poorly paved, with outcroppings of rocks and other obstacles all over the place. it had a documentary-like quality through the windows of an air-conditioned vehicle.

last night we got a bit adventurous and decided to explore the urban area around the hotel and get something to eat. walking around was almost exactly like i had imagined it, save the one detail that there was no traditional indian music being played in the background. there were throngs of people, crossing traffic whenever they choose, making the streets come alive. there were some poor children who were taught to seek out foreigners and walk next to us looking sad, hoping for food. there were neon signs and store-fronts that gave little indication of what was inside. the sidewalk was shoddy and very unclean, forcing careful inspection of one’s path. it was both energizing and very saddening. we found a bar/restaurant that i can only describe as a “den”, and decided to eat there. it was smoky and poorly lit, pretty much the opposite of what the travel guide recommends. we got some lebanese food which was difficult to see in the dimness but tasted good. two people got sangria (a bold choice in my opinion) but i just had some beer. all i can hope is that the alcohol sanitized my stomach.

time is an illusion (2 days until travel)

i prepared for my trip overseas this weekend by filling my deodorant container and chapstick tube with hand sanitizer. i then filled my hand sanitizer bottle with hydrochloric acid. you know, just in case. i bought a pair of elephant-riding breeches (just plaid golf pants) and a couple books on tantrism. my course is set. it is only necessary for me to discover and travel it. i think one thing is certain: when i return from india i will speak in an even more convoluted and vague manner than i do today. i apologize in advance.

heart & soul, hot & cold

sometimes i am cold. more often than not, actually. but not last night. last night i found the upper temperature threshold that allows me to function. i finally had to turn on the central air when my home’s ambient temperature reached ninety degrees(f). i could still balance board and walk, but any sitting in the hundred per cent humidity and i would lose any concentration, focusing upon how skin sticks to leather instead of reruns of laguna beach. it is even worse for sleeping. i can’t sleep through the night at temperatures higher than eighty four degrees. i haven’t been sleeping well and i’ve lost three pounds due to water, but i figure that will ultimately only make me stronger. or kill me. or send me into a thin layer of existence by which i will achieve oneness with nature. hopefully it’s the third one.

nine days

i didn’t work last week so you might think that i’d have been more inspired to write about all the recent goings on. but you would be underestimating the hypnotic, lazing effects of lounging in the sun. last weekend i was up north attending the wedding of p.l.a.’s second favorite writer (the first being d.e. the guest-blogger). it was a pleasant affair, first at a college chapel and then moving to a country club setting. since ianvw was obviously occupied for most of the night and would therefore give a rather skewed account of events, i will attempt to describe the wedding night.

4:15 pm arrive at the hotel and check in.

5:00 pm drink beer while changing

5:50 pm arrive at chapel

6:30 pm leave chapel, blow bubbles at groom

7:00 pm arrive at country club for reception, notice they have hoegaarden

7:50 pm beer three halfway gone. i am enjoying the outdoor patio.

8:00 pm bride and groom enter the room as married. i think about why everyone is growing up but me.

8:15 pm buffet dinner starts. the line is fifty meters long. i enjoy conversation and beer at the table.

9:00 pm people start dancing. i don’t remember what kind of band was there. i get lost in a forty minute conversation with a bridesmaid.

10:00 pm blur.

~11:30? pm everyone young heads to the elephant and castle bar/restaurant. i am angry since this effectively kills the post-party at the hotel. i order whiskey.

1:00 am dancing around a pole with streamers in sepia scale.

the rest of last week was spent recovering and alternating watching wimbledon and reading outside. i solved sixteen su-do-ku puzzles and countless rubick cube cycles while listening to three new albums i bought. i saw old friends in town for the holiday and golfed eighteen holes on friday. i spent saturday with a friend drinking and watching movies.

in the near future i have a trip to india and a trip to meet someone i’ve never met. both could have exaggerated consequences, such as they could be greatest or worst trips ever. depending upon the temperature in india and the food and my conversion to hindu, i could see it going either way. and as for the other trip, it will all depend upon how my friend reacts when she finds out i’m neither a prince nor a millionaire but only a bachelor.

the stale past

around mid-morning today i became suddenly nostalgic for college. it took me the better part of a minute to figure out why. i finally realized that i was smelling the muted beer-y puke fragrance that was so much a part of everyday life earlier this decade. though the source was unclear the effect was immediate. and i can’t help but feel sad that, although i could recreate the smell, i could never recreate the absolute freedom and happiness of that era. a spontaneous game of beirut this weekend is the only thing that will ease this pain.

views on views on vacation

do you have to be a driven workaholic for people to silently bless your vacation? i will never understand those who value drive and ambition in others over the qualities of happiness and fun. people are obsessed with the theory of “earning” things. i appreciate the need for people to work for something if that process instills values and a grounded attitude. but if an appreciation already exists i see no benefit to it. i think people can deal with balance in their own personal lives, such as the fact that frequent vacations make them less special and therefore possibly less fun. this is not something that should have outsiders' noses turned up or down.

our love to admire

interpol’s our love to admire is immediately gratifying. before you get all purist on me you should note that turn on the bright lights was my favorite interpol album. i revel in the rawness of tracks lick “stella was a diver” and my favorite interpol track of all time, “obstacle 1”. but the new album has a much fuller sound, with keys, strings, and multiple textural layers. and i like it. from the dream-like “wrecking ball” to the more traditional chilly breeze of “rest my chemistry”, this album expands upon previous signatures while keeping the same middle name.

i know i should love daniel best. but guitar is actually my least favorite element of the band (not that i don’t like it). but pauls vocals stick to the ceiling and turn your face heavenward while the bass’ octave-jumps make your eyes flutter. and the percussion on “who do you think?” (via slave to the details) makes me want to make out while tapping my boot against the wall.

division theory

the difference between some and none is the greatest gap there is. it is more blatant than happiness and sadness, more of a contrast than together and alone. this huge chasm of nothing can taunt those on either end. some float across with ease while others wring their hands in futility. and no other border has such a membrane dividing it as this. it is like the surface tension of water where you can feel the forces groan just before you break through. oh how many lie in misery on one side or another waiting for the world’s biggest bridge to be built.

today's playlist

white stripes fields the takeover uk camera obscura menomena modena vox justice mstrkrft rinse repeat

if you say all the names fast enough you can actually ride the sonic wave.

commit to memory

the frightening thing about committing to something is not the fact that you can’t go back. it’s that if you do go back it will be different. so it is really about change. change is good as a universal equalizer but i still fear it with what is left of my consciousness. it is like the genie that could end up giving you happiness but statistically won’t. because you wished for x-ray vision and then gave yourself cancer by looking in the mirror or something. this is why i try to speak using the vaguest possible language, and thusly avoid frivolous commitment and butterfly wings of death.

lost

my wedding occurs in less than two weeks. i am happily in between jobs, which is another way of saying that i have parlayed a signing bonus and severance package into considerable compensation this month for no professional effort. if you're concerned that i may be losing sight of reality, these are reasons.

thoughts about sunday television

i watched some info-mercials today. they reminded me of being in love. it’s really not that strange. i find familiarity in the act of overacting.

always something there to remind her

this is slightly disturbing:

Girls who enjoy a good early relationship with their father are more likely to choose boyfriends and husbands who look like them, new research suggests.

the only conclusion one can come to is that women want to sleep with their fathers. ok, maybe they want their dads as younger men, kind of like a reverse back to the future scenario except marty sleeps with lorraine. and instead of playing “johnny b. goode”, he sings “together forever” by rick astley. even for that bizarro world, though, this behavior is sick, sick, sick. i wish i had a delorean.

what tim said about friday

i went out on friday night, for the purposes of seeing electrelane, the blow, and rebecca (not a band but equally fun to see). we caught a drink at finnegan’s wake and then headed to the warhol museum for the show. i’d never been to the theater room on the first floor, so i didn’t know exactly where the bands would be playing. the room was small but intimate, with some seating and a little standing room around the edges. we arrived in the middle of tender forever’s set. i had never heard her before, but she is a lot like the blow, being a mostly-one-person show. she was refreshing and the kind of slightly-crazy that makes you smile. plus, she covered justin timberlake. after getting a few drinks at the cash bar we re-entered the theater for the blow’s great set. she played around eleven songs but it was basically a continuous monologue of which the songs were only one part. she played my two favorite songs, “hey boy” and “what tom said about girls”. like most of her music, the songs are smart and stripped down. the british band electrelane was last, playing more traditional guitar-drum-bass-piano arragements. they were very good, with many tempo changes, long lnstrumental parts, and some fancy guitar work at times. they sound like they were influenced by sonic youth and stereolab equally, and although i don’t understand some of their songs, the ones i like are quite good.

bustle

i’m sick of bustle. summer is when i want to be laziest, but i’m always distracted by things. it’s enough to make me wish it were winter for one hour. then i would go outside and spin around until i was dizzy, fall flat on my back and listen to nothing. as i felt the cold rising up from my back through my organs, i would start to sing a few bars of matt pond pa’s “summer” and close my eyes.

crime without chance of punishment

i am not against crime, but i do believe that people should be required to put forth significant effort while performing it. more than that, a level of increased resources should be required to escape the action repercussion-free. maybe there is a dostoevsky-esque sound to this request, but it only seems right.

unfortunately, using national headlines to identify a suspected criminal as "having a goatee" goes against much of this. i mean, at least tell me what kind of car he drives. make him steal a new one, cut off a leg, maybe learn german. but if happiness can be found in a razor blade that does not involve slicing through blood-carrying vessels...it may be time for a career move.

entertaining

explaining the game of baseball to a european is like having a conversation with a blender running. only random words sink in over the din. but when you see the recognition light up their eyes on a double play or homerun, the resulting daiquiri of understanding is well worth it. it was in this manner i spent last night, explaining baseball to my native-french-speaking vice president as the pirates decided to lose once again. i feel validated that he claims to have enjoyed the experience even though he grew up, of course, watching football matches and pastry contests and other non-hand-eye coordination sports in france. he suggested i spend some time in europe to become a better rounded person and i think that is good advice. i’m just not sure i have the right look for that continent. i’d need to look bored slightly more often and get some new sunglasses, i think.

stop time later

is it wrong for me to sub-divide an hour? a day? i never know when to make the switch, when to identify something as occurring at the unit level. the thing is, i like to single out positive events, when applicable. and because these events may occur over varying periods of time, it seems likely that i would leave the dividing option variable in an effort to manage each individual circumstance. while i may allow an enjoyable week-long vacation to define a season, i would also like the option of pinpointing the second sip of the third mint julep experienced on a june evening as the pinnacle of all the sips i had taken that night. i know, i know, it's all a little crazy. perhaps i will return to the common usage of "hours", "minutes", and other such sub-categories of timekeeping. but i will do so with the knowledge that things won't be quite as happy around here.