L'histoire de sa vie

First, it appears that my post on Monday was some kind of “breaking news” or something, as it attracted quite a few commenters who were suffering the same problem. Odd.

Over Winter Break, I filled out an application to become a Computer Science TA, thinking that, like the last time I applied, I would be overlooked. However, when I got back to school, I received an email only hours before the first day of classes: I was picked to be a TA for W1004, Introduction to Computer Science. [Pronounced Ten-Oh-Four.]

Well, I’ve already had two TA meetings (there are eight of us), sent a rad email to the students for whom I serve as the primary TA, and yesterday, I held my first Office Hours, hoping that students would show up, but cognizant of the fact that their first assignment isn’t due for nearly a week and that like I tend to do, they will likely procrastinate.

About forty five minutes into the Office Hours, having received no students yet having made serious headway on my Operating Systems homework, I received these tweets from Brody:

They never come to office hours for that class

Really. You should expect two kids, later in the semester. The desperate failure, and the smarmy A+++ kid.

I mean, keep in mind: 1004 students are learning how to attend college so they are clueless in more than just OO

Of course, only seconds later, a first student walked in the door. “Is this the TA help room?” He asked. I responded in the affirmative, as did the other random TA for some other class also presumably without students who care about Office Hours. He introduced himself to me as one of my students (not just a 1004 student but one in my mini-group) and asked a few questions about the class itself.

It was just an introduction, but honestly, a welcome distraction from OS homework and general boredom. At the time I think I was doing a Sporcle quiz as a distraction, so even though there was no Java to teach, a real human being was an upgrade.

Nonetheless, I’m looking forward to my future Office Hours. Hopefully, Brody is wrong and students will take advantage of my help. If not, at least I’ll get along fine on my OS homework!

I went to the eye doctor for the first time in two years last week. It had been two years because that’s how long it took for me to run out of contacts from my last appointment. The good news is that I don’t have any kind of crazy eye disease or ophthalmological emergency (not that I was expecting one) but the bad news is that my prescription had to go up two more notches.

I am now sporting a pair of contact lenses with a correction of -5.50, up from -5.00. Over the years, my eyes have gotten worse and worse, without hint of slowing down. Each time, I’m amazed by how much worse I see.

What is a correction of -5.50? According to the internet, it means that I have to have a change in negative five and one half diopters on my eyes. A diopter, apparently, is a measurement of a lens, equal to the reciprocal of a the focal length of the lens in meters. Obviously I’m annoyed by the use of the metric system, but more annoying is the highly cryptic nature of this definition.

How far can I see clearly without contacts or other corrective lenses? The internet refuses to tell me, but my estimate based on my personal experience is that it’s a little less than four inches. At one foot, I can make things out but they are very blurry. At ten feet, there are only colors. At twenty feet, everything is blurred together into one blob.

When I was a child I heard that it was possible for your eyes to get better. But that hasn’t happened, and though I keep hoping it will be the case, every time I go to the eye doctor I learn that the opposite is true. Each time I walk away with a slightly stronger prescription as well as slightly more unhappiness at whoever told me eating carrots as a child would prevent this exact situation.

I must have eaten ten million carrots.

I’ve been having some issues with my image linking. So until I sort that out, it looks like there will be some imageless posts. I’m confident that tomorrow this will change. Hopefully. Sorry!

As winter break draws to a close, it’s interesting (to me anyway, it’s conceivable that no one else cares) to think back on all the things I did during High School that have somehow managed to persist to the present day. Going to the Rocky Horry Picture Show, for example, is one of these things. If it weren’t for the “tradition” of doing so in High School, I wouldn’t still return at this point in my life.

Nonetheless, these are fun activities that hold memories of which I am fond. I just got back from having tofu sandwiches with John, another tradition we’ve had since high school. Basically we go to this Vietnamese restaurant that serves all kinds of foods, including a most delicious tofu sandwich. Usually we get other things these days as well, and we’re no longer going to the same location (that place closed and then reopened and then moved), but everything else is the same.

In High School, getting tofu sandwiches was often an ordeal. First, there was the matter of this sweet bread that they had. It was twenty-five cents, but they usually were out of it. When they had it, they didn’t have enough for all of us, and we’d clean them out. Then, there was each person’s individual order: I wanted a tofu sandwich as is, and so did John, but inevitably other people would order interesting combinations: no butter, no pepper (usually the pepper would still end up on there anyway), and one time, no parsley.

Of course, the guy didn’t understand what “no parsley” meant, and it caused unnecessary headaches. Every time I go back to the tofu sandwiches place, I recall these ridiculous memories. From a self-reflective standpoint, I wonder how much I’ve absorbed since then that will cause certain places to trigger memories.

Last night I sent in, via email, the last papers I had to turn in to officially end the semester. I have received one grade so far (in Talmud), and I’m home in Houston. The semester is officially finished. Here’s some highlights from my Fall ‘09, ripped straight from this blog:

• I won the Constitution Day challenge for the third year in a row. Next year a win will cement me as the longest continuous champion. I am the most patriotic student ever. Also that kid Gideon accepted my challenge but wimped out in the end.
• Midterms hit hard early on, and yet I somehow survived. Of course, the same was true for finals, and I took a bigger hit on some of those than on the midterms.
• I got free cookies with Yoni after our order wasn’t perfect. Jacob says that Yoni and I are always scheming and apparently this was part of that. Also: our costume at a costume party (Abe Lincoln and John Wilkes Booth).
• Bob Saget came to Columbia but he wasn’t funny. His opener was though.
• The JTS Elevators broke down so many times. Meanwhile, someone has stolen multiple numbers (from next to buttons) from inside one of the elevators.
• McDonalds had yet another mention in a Talmud class. Somehow Mickey-Ds and Talmud are inseparable.
• I created a programming language with the sickest team of people ever. Also I learned LaTeX, and that’s just straight up awesome.

Hopefully next semester will contain even more awesome. Meanwhile, here’s to a wonderful winter break!

First of all, I’d like to give a quick shout-out to Jessica at Orange Ideal, who a few weeks ago had me try some rice she was making. It was delicious, but most importantly, I finished the can of beer she used in its cooking. That’s one reason I got the idea for this post.

Recently at lunch in the JTS cafeteria, my friend Adam asked how one goes about making Beer Can Chicken. Amidst the discussion of marinating and sitting a chicken on top of a can of beer, I realized that actually I use a lot of beer in my cooking, if only because it’s unbelievably delicious. [It helps that I always have a plentiful beer supply.]

One of my favorite recipes that uses beer is one that I first made in Israel with Alana. We made it in April, and since the recipe came from my mother, Alana named it “May’s April Chicken.” It’s basically a spicy, delicious chicken dish with plenty of flavor and color.

The full recipe is available on my Springpad, but I figured I’d document (with photos!) the process. First of all, the beer I chose (pictured above) this time was Dogfish Head’s Raison D’Etre. It was available at AppleTree, and Dogfish Head beers always have very distinct flavors since they are brewed using so many different ingredients. It was definitely a good choice. (In the past, I’ve tried to find Red Ales, like Killian’s or Tuborg Red.)

The picture to the right is the chicken, sprinkled with the salt, pepper, chili powder, and Penzey’s Chili 9000. All four pieces are covered on both sides, while I sautéed the onions. Regarding the onions, I’d like to say this: There is likely no smell in the world (at least not one that I have yet encountered) as delicious and wonderful as the smell of onions sautéing in oil. It’s a smell so pleasant, it really amazes me. I could sauté onions all day long for that smell.

Just look at those onions. Delicious. Permit me a brief digression: in addition to onions, I’m also a huge fan of garlic. I put garlic powder or garlic cloves in nearly everything I cook. I love the stuff. Thus, when I saw the Northwoods Theatre Company’s recreation of “Knight of Onions and Knight of Garlic” by Chaim Nahman Bialik, a very amusing story about knights that also love both onions and garlic, I was thoroughly tickled. I recommend it. [The story has a twist, but I don’t want to ruin it here.]

In addition to the chicken and onions, what makes May’s April Chicken so good is the corn, the tomatoes, the beer, and the whole jar of Salsa. (I used salsa from Fredericksburg, TX this time – for those who care, I avoid salsa from anywhere but the Great State of Texas, out of principle.) Here pictured is the simmering mixture, nearly ready to grace the world with its deliciousness. Ah.

Finally, I set the table, made some rice, and served up two plates of May’s April Chicken with my Ikea wine glasses full of Trader Joe’s Three-Buck Chuck. Bon Appétit!

Last night, I opened the first bottle of Fireplace Contraband #2, my second homebrew creation. The beer is a doppelbock, about which I’ve previously posted. It is very dark, quite strong, and, for only my second creation, successful.

I brewed it using honey, which China immediately noticed upon tasting it, coriander, which is subdued, and cinnamon. A lot of cinnamon. As you can probably guess from the image I chose to accompany this post, possibly too much cinnamon. The smell of cinnamon, as Adir pointed out, is overpowering.

Luckily, however, the cinnamon does not overpower the taste of the beer. While the smell is unquestionably cinnamon-y, the taste focuses more on the honey and the malt. It reminds me, in this way, a lot of Pyramid Audacious Apricot, which, although the apricot smell is very strong, only has undertones of apricot taste.

I’m satisfied with Fireplace Contraband #2, largely because it’s darker, fuller, richer, and less sweet than FC1 was. This was a big plus for both Yoni and Adir who felt that last year’s creation was too sweet. However, I still have a long way to go in my home-brewing future.

My verdict is as follows: Sight – beautiful color, nice full head, strong consistent full body. Aroma – Overpowering cinnamon takes away from the other scents of the beer. Taste – Full bodied taste with obvious honey tones. Feel – Very smooth with a great finish.

And of course, another benefit is that since my beer is brewed right here in my room, I get one more beer to add to my American Beer List. Evviva!

This is the final part of the discussion of my room. If you missed them, here’s parts one, two, and three.

The other major part of my room is my bookshelf. It takes up a large part of one wall and in addition to having things on the shelves, I also have things taped to either side.

For example, pictured here are four tickets from the New York showing of the Rocky Horror Picture Show, a backstage pass for the Talib Kweli concert from last year, a tag that Joey and Jason left on the gift they got me for my birthday a few years back, and a sign from Columbia Catering that says “Home Fried Potatoes.”

That sign cracks me up. I suppose potatoes can be French Fried, but Home Fried? How do you Home Fry something? [Clearly they wanted to make Home Fries sound more appealing or upscale.]

Also taped to the side of my dresser is a ticket from every Broadway show I’ve attended. (Actually one is missing.) There’s some good shows up there, but I’m sad to say I haven’t been to a show in quite some time. Hopefully that will change Tuesday, when I’m supposed to go to South Pacific.

The first shelf of my bookshelf contains a bunch of books (no shocker there, I know), including my six Sci-fi short stories collection, The Book of Basketball (autographed by Bill Simmons), some cards from family and friends, and a plush Turkey I got while working at a USY convention over Thanksgiving a few years back.

The next shelf is less exciting. It contains my excess soap, a hard drive that I use as a hammer, and a bunch of school books. It also has my Cowboys hat, and another Columbia catering sign on a small metal cube. This sign says “Whole Milk” and was left behind in a class this year, so I acquired it.

The other exciting shelf (there’s two others, but they don’t have anything important on them – just papers and water bottles) contains a whole mess of stuff! In addition to my plush Cartman, I also have my sick Penzey’s salt and pepper shakers and a ton of glasses. One is from the Samuel Adams brewery, one from the Saint Arnold brewery, one is from the Jameson distillery, and one is a Stein from Germany. Also I have two mugs, one from Leif’s (the breakfast joint near camp, which has the greatest hash-browns of all time) and one that my Resident Director got me as a gift last year (we’re both huge Cowboys fans, and she went to the Pro Football Hall Of Fame).

Finally, hanging over all of that is my wine rack, which I bought and installed last night. It holds four bottles of wine (Trader Joe’s Three Buck Chuck, at the moment. I’ve clearly already opened the third one.) and it looks really awesome hanging over the coolest shelf on my bookshelf.

Well that’s the totality of my room. Well, that and a lamp without bulbs because I keep forgetting to buy bulbs and it’s really bright enough without it.

There are a few more things on my wall that are important to me. Some of them scream out “Nathan’s room!” while others just have meaningful stories. Here’s some of them:

It’s pretty common for people to decorate their walls with LP covers, and at least two of my friends in this building do so. However, each of them has a ton of LP covers, while I have picked a specific two to frame and hang on the wall over my TV.

The album on the right is an autographed Bill Cosby album, “i started out as a child.” There’s not much story to this except that it’s autographed, so that’s pretty cool. And the album on the left is Kanye West’s single, “Heard ‘Em Say” feat Adam Levine of Maroon 5. I picked it up in Ireland when I was on vacation with my friend Daniel G during my year in Israel. I saw it and couldn’t resist, thanks to my love of Kanye, records, and that song.

Also while in Ireland, I picked up this Irish flag. It hangs near my door, so I see it on my way out every day. A quick story about our trip to Ireland and how I got this flag:

So when we went to Ireland, we went to a number of different cities all over the country, including Dublin, Cork, Galway, Blarney, and Waterford. However, we spent most of our time seeing cool things and pretty much forgot to get souvenirs. So on our last day in Dublin, before we flew to London for two days, we stopped by a kitschy touristy souvenir shop and picked up a ton of stuff. I picked up a Cork scarf, a sheep that said “Dublin” and this flag.

Speaking of flags, another cool thing on my wall is this Texas-flag-adorned potholder. I don’t use it for pots, because we have other nasty potholders in my kitchen, instead I use it for decoration. It was a gift from Daniel (not the same Daniel as above) in my first year of college when he came to visit. Because of its placement, it’s often the first thing I see when I open my door to enter my room.

Next to my computer, above my photographs, is a small collection of Dallas Cowboys memorabilia. Since I’m in school mainly during the Football season, I like to have my football loyalties strongly displayed in my room.

On the right is a Tony Romo poster. I still believe in Tony Romo even when he’s not at his best. I don’t, however, believe in Roy Williams or Wade Phillips. And I don’t think I ever will. But I digress. On the bottom left is a towel from the only game I’ve ever attended (Playoffs, Dec 28, 1996 – Cowboys won over the Vikings 40-15), and above that is the big plaque that I found in my stuff at the end of the summer.

Finally, the most important part of my room is the giant Texas flag (4’x6’) that hangs over my bed.

For the last three years, I hanged it over the window in my various rooms, so that it would be displayed to the streets of Jerusalem and New York. This year, however, my window is smaller, and so I decided to hang it over my bed instead. Much better placement. Now every morning when I wake up, I thank my lucky stars that I was born in Texas.

So the next part of my room I’d like to discuss is a small strip of photographs on my right wall near my window. There’s twelve photographs, and each one has a story: [from left to right, top to bottom]

• In USY (the youth group in which I was heavily active in High School), I had a dance for this song, “Od Yavoh Shalom Aleinu” that differed from everyone else’s dance. Needless to say, my strongest admirers thought it was hilarious. Thus Sydney and Amy were caught on camera mimicking my moves. [Larger]
• My oldest friend, John, and I were downtown one day during high school when we noticed that the Hermann Park Detour sign was upside down; instead of “ZOO,” it read “OOZ.” Obviously we needed a picture. [Larger]
• At the end of my USY days, the entire regional board (I was regional president), Director, Assistant Director, and Moshe, our shaliach (Israel ‘ambassador’ basically) posed for a picture. Those were among the happiest days of my life thus far. [Larger]
• I went to London with my friend Daniel and took this picture from the London Eye. The sun never sets on the British Empire, and the picture itself is actually stunning. [Larger]
• Whenever Daniel (different Daniel from the last story) and I cooked something in High School, which we did a lot, we would cut open a lemon and pose for a picture with the rinds. This one was from our final USY convention together. [Larger]
• I went to Disneyland (The Happiest Place on Earth) during my freshman year of College, as staff for USY International Convention. I managed to get a picture with Mickey, the OG of Disneyland. [Larger]
• My USY Regional Board again. There were five guys and one girl on board, so we usually spent most of our time making fun of her. Late in Senior year, we posed for this picture. [Larger]
• Another picture taken after Daniel and I cooked something. This was at his house and his brother is in the background. [Larger]
• When I went to Israel in 2005, one of my best friends on the trip was Cynthia. We remained friends for a while and spent the next year in Israel together, but regrettably we’ve since fallen out of touch. One week before Shabbat, we posed for this picture with the stem of a rose our group leader had bought for the girls. [Larger]
• Ah C6! While living on a Kibbutz, during the second half of my year in Israel, four of us lived together in this dilapidated caravan, known as Caravan Six, or to us, C6. Joey put it best when he said that “these are the worst living conditions I will ever experience.” And they were bad. Mushrooms growing in the bathroom, mold on the floors. Oh boy. But here’s the fantastic four of C6, Joey, Tani, Jacob, and me. [Larger]
• Another Caravan shot, this was during Purim. Because I had extremely long hair and a friend who knew how to braid cornrows, I dressed as Flavor Flav. Perhaps the best part of my awesome costume was when I walked to the Kibbutz party and some Israeli on a phone said, “!מישהו פה כמו פלייבה פלייב” (“There’s someone here [dressed] like Flavor Flav!”) [Larger]
• Finally, while in London I managed to get a shot with Paddington Bear. Yes, the Paddington Bear. Needless to say, I was thrilled beyond belief. [Larger]

Those who enter my apartment are almost always immediately underwhelmed with the (lack of) decorations around the common room. On one wall is a giant picture of a scene from Live Free or Die Hard, and in another corner is a shelf filled with empty beer bottles. Other than that, however, the common room is boring.

What isn’t boring, however, is my room! Once you enter, the whole place is quite decorated, with nearly every inch of wall covered in various things. I figured I’d share this with you (my loyal readers), one step at a time, and I invite you to do the same. What are some favorite parts of your room?

For me, my roof-fish stand out as one of my all-time favorite decorations. Every year when I unpack my boxes, I find my neatly folded roof-fish and hang them from my ceiling with joy. What are roof-fish? Here’s the story:

When Alana and I first met, we were not friends. However, halfway through our year in Israel, we both volunteered at the same old-folks-recreation-center in Haifa. During the week of volunteering, our friendship was born and solidified, to the point where she’s one of only a few people with whom I’m still in touch from that year.

In the old-folks-recreation-center (basically old people go there during the day to have fun with other old people), there were all these fish-like bird things hanging from the ceiling. I believe Alana first insisted that they were in fact birds, but after enough convincing on my part (they looked like fish!) even she was calling them by their proper name: Roof-fish (or, in bad Hebrew, דגים גגים, dagim gagim, which conveniently rhymes).

So when we got back to Jerusalem, we immediately made tons of roof-fish and put them everywhere. Some were not so lucky to survive, but others, including the long chain with the N that Alana made for me, have survived to this day, still hanging to my ceiling.