10:31 AM:

But I never told you about the trip to New York. Let's see if I can sum it up quickly...

Sunday afternoon, May 26th: Departed Ann Arbor via Greyhound bus.

Monday morning, May 27th: Arrived in New York. Immediately proceeded to a nearby kosher pizza shop, where I was to meet Miriam Nadel. Unfortunately, I don't travel terribly well, and got very little sleep on the bus ride, with the results being that I was semi-conscious. (In her entry on the subject, Miriam said I was "a bit wonky" at the time. Miriam was being charitable.) It was still nice to meet her, but I felt a bit guilty dragging her out from Long Island just to see me stare into space for prolonged periods of time before offering an inarticulate grunt in reply.

The pizza was good, though. I'd really missed fresh pizza. All I can get around here is the stuff you heat up in your toaster oven, and it just isn't the same.

From there to my brother's place, where I was staying for the next few nights, after first stopping by my sister's place to pick up the keys and an impressively detailed map of the neighborhood and the apartment, drawn by my brother. (We weren't sure if I would arrive at a point when he'd be home.) I took a nap not long thereafter, followed by supper, followed by going back to sleep.

Tuesday, May 28th: Feeling much better, I went to visit my mother, in Woodmere. Talked with her for a while, and then went to catch the Long Island Railroad to Manhattan, where I was to meet Elaine at a Krispy Kreme at 4 PM. I was determined to be there on schedule for a change, and the train in question would get me there just in time.

Of course, I missed the train; it was pulling away as I approached the station. And the next one was to come an hour later. So, lo, I hopped into a cab and had it take me to the nearest subway station (in Far Rockaway) and took the A train to Manhattan, ultimately arriving perhaps five minutes earlier than I would have if I'd just waited for the next LIRR train... but still an hour late.

Fortunately, Elaine knows me by now, so she wasn't terribly surprised. (And she'd wisely brought a book to read while she was waiting.) And, perhaps just as fortunately, I knew that Elaine knew what she was up against, so while I did feel horribly guilty, I at least wasn't worried that she'd have left by the time I showed up.

It's nice having friends who know your limitations sometimes.

Anyway. I scarfed down two hot glazed doughnuts and washed them down with a small container of chocolate milk, after which the two of us went back to the subway for my baccalaureate convocation. The main event was called for 7 PM; those of us being honored were supposed to be there at 6:15 PM. We arrived somewhere around 6:30. It turned out that the earlier time for the honorees was in place largely in order to ensure that we'd actually all be there by the time the thing got underway at 7. Score one for the college; it worked, at least in my case.

The ceremony itself was nice. They said a lot of flattering and mostly-accurate things about me, and gave me a lovely certificate and a lovelier check. And I got to see a couple of professors whom I'd wanted to see after it was over.

After that, I reunited with Elaine and my younger sister, who'd found each other while I was making my way back to the reception, my sister having arrived separately. The three of us went to a nearby restaurant, where we had a very nice long conversation over some good food; in my case, a pastrami sandwich. I'd missed pastrami, another food you can't get over here, at least not kosher. Perhaps fortunately, they forgot my side order of curly fries; we all had food left over as it stood.

As it happened, I had originally planned to arrive in New York on this day, but had moved the visit up in order to meet Miriam before she flew back to California. I ended up being very grateful with that, as, if I'd gone with the original plan, I don't know if I'd have made it through the awards ceremony... which, you might recall, was my main reason for being in New York in the first place.

Two days down, two to go, but I think I'm gonna post the next two separately.

In other news, Max was on the second episode of American Idol for about half a minute. Not all at once, and the people doing the editing didn't do him any favors, but it was still nice to see him on national television.

A week into the leg-shaving experiment, I can report the following findings:

• I now have a greater understanding of these concepts:
  • itchiness
  • irritation
  • razor burn
• I adore my styptic pencil.
• Having one's legs covered in a thick layer of dark hair quite possibly beats having one's legs covered in red bumps and cuts.
• While looking for a name-brand razor is well and good, it's a good idea to look for a brand noted for its razors. To pick a not-entirely-random example, it is possible that disposable razors bearing the "Noxzema" name should not inspire one's confidence. It is possible that the Noxzema people did not bother to look into the quality of the razors which have their product incorporated into a moisturizing strip. One might wonder why the company making the razors didn't want their own company name emphasized, and whether they're likely to slice your legs to ribbons. (I'm exaggerating on that last bit, but not by much.)
• That last bit is a tentative finding; it might actually be a single-blade vs. twin-blade thing. I'd need a wider sample to be certain.