Wednesday, July 9, 2003
Cleaned out old documents I no longer needed. Link checks. Redistributed an e-mail to faculty and staff that Cindy wanted me to make clearer or more complete. Admissions changes for James. Installed PharmAdMIT 2004 for me, then created the server folder for sharing its data, set up a new server share appropriately. Installed PharmAdMIT 2004 for Debrah, Cindy, Chris (twice), Ena. Couldn't install on Melissa's computer probably due to permission problems we had with that computer when Michael was here. I am thinking of doing brain surgery on it—might be the best thing for it. After work I got a double latte with a shot of hazelnut at The Beanery at 9th and Irving. Patrick has been cooking a lot at home, so we decided a night off from that would be good. We were considering Naan N Curry at 8th and Irving, but we saw it was crowded and noisy and the open kitchen didn't ventilate properly, so we instead went to Masala a block down and around the corner at 1220 - 9th Av near Lincoln Av (415-566-6976). We had a sweet kind of naan that had raisins and I can't remember what else. Tandoori chicken. A vegetable curry with green beans, garbanzo beans, carrots, potatoes, and possibly tofu. Rice. One chai tea. All the food was delicious and prepared very well. The service seemed a bit slow, but was good when it arrived. Since the front room was all full, we sat in the back room which was less crowded. We skipped dessert—all full. Our bill was about US$32 after a $4 tip. Afterwards, Patrick and I went to The Mint. We stayed for about 5 minutes, then left. We took a subway train to the Castro and walked around somewhat aimlessly, stopping in at different places to see what was happening (not much). Had a drink at The Bar on Castro, where we liked the mellow music and amoeba light displays and talked about hobbies. Went home after. I had trouble sleeping. Was it the coffee? Did the alcohol aggravate my eczema? Who knows? Forgot to call my sister on her birthday. Well, I thought of her during the day. Does that still mean I forgot? I think yes. On the L train home, there was a big, drunk white man with his buddies (who didn't appear to be drunk). Our car was about half full. The man was saying the word "fags" very loudly, looking around at me and Patrick and everyone else on the train, obviously with intent to create a scene. His buddies just smiled. It was one of the few times I'd ever felt the victim of homophobia—and I couldn't help thinking of the irony: *this* even in San Francisco. The man and his buddies got off the train at the post office on Taraval, and I immediately felt relieved. A different man with a female companion was shaking his head after they left: a sympathetic straight couple perhaps. I wonder, though, how many on the train would have acted if something happened and what the result would have been.