It’s February. I’m entering the third week of my second semester of grad school at the lovely New School for Social Research. And this semester looks like it’s going to be much more involved than my first semester.
The schedule of having evening classes is still proving to be a challenge to get used to, but the days keep going. Even if I do wake up at 6 a.m. some mornings. The syllabi for my courses suggest, for the most part, that it’ll be an interesting semester with quite a bit of overlap that I didn’t see last semester.
Only one class will prove difficult not for its content, but for its professor and the structure of the course. No one seems to really know how to approach this class. I’m not entirely sure in what context I’m supposed to do the readings (it’s historical sociology). The TA doesn’t seem to know what’s going on, and perhaps has successfully detached himself from everything altogether. The mere thought that this is a required course frustrates the hell out of all of us. This class alone could probably lead one to take on a poor habit of drinking in excess.
Wednesday evenings are no fun at all.
But the days keep going.
On a more fun note. In the last week alone I learned a great deal about pinworms, and discovered just how disgusting we humans actually are in our everyday routines. This unfortunate event, which befell one of my roommates, has been an interesting experiment in self-analysis of behaviors. It’s also been an experiment in watching my hands turns into a leather dry-good, which I haven’t seen since I stopped working in the food industry a few years ago.
The skin is truly an amazing organ.
And the snow—or lack of it. My first experience with snow in the Big Apple has been an interesting one as well these last two weeks. One: when the weather gods say arctic blast, holy cow do they mean arctic blast. The winds here are insanely freezing. Two: snowflakes. Real snowflakes. Also the texture of the snow generally appears differently than what I’ve seen in the D.C. area.
And while the initial snowfall in the city does look magnificent, this BuzzFeed post doesn’t fail to point out the realities (particularly the “winter” one). The snow here does get tiring and absolutely shitty. Metaphorically and literally (at least in Bushwick). As the snow melts there’s a sense of relief that the gray and brown slushy muck is disappearing. There’s also a funny sense of excitement when all the treasures hidden from the snow start to pop up, including dog poop. And a frozen, dead rat.
New York City is truly an amazing city.