The hotel where I'm staying is moderately good; the room is quiet and I have a lovely view of nothing in particular save for Buffalo General Hospital, which is part fab 19th century and part horrible 1986 remake.
Work is going well; days are long but we're getting things taken care of. Sadly, it's all behind schedule which means it's unlikely I'll get to sneak out for any sightseeing.
Food has been pretty good so far; it's all a greasefest, though. La Nova pizza was okay, nothing particularly good; some other pizza joint near Children's Hospital delivered some pretty amazing sausage pizza today, though, which more than made up for that. The smell of wings is pervasive, and they do actually taste good here (must be the blue cheese instead of ranch). Still, I haven't indulged yet this trip even though the Anchor Bar is a short, cold walk away.
It was snowing this morning. As I waited for the valet to retrieve my robin's egg blue Subaru Forester (it's weird; it makes me feel like a liberal arts professor driving it), I noticed that my pants are too thin and a winter coat isn't enough if all you're wearing is a chintzy polo shirt underneath. However, my fab new scarf at least kept the heat from disappearing too quickly.
I wear a toque-like thing in cold place where it's snowing and for some reason everyone thinks it's hilarious. I don't get it - it's cold, so you should wear a hat, right? I've seen many folks shivering their way through parking lots wearing nothing more than lab coats - that seems stranger to me than wearing a proper winter hat.
I found this hotel review online today and thought I'd share:
The hotel is not so bad in terms of service, price and location. Taxi driver told me that it is former Sheraton. But after midnight hotel bar looks like Russian village bar with usual knackers and young zipper-moraled Susies. Think that whas very fashionable place for both. But I have had a fun.
Me, I have not yet had a fun, but I will eventually, I'm sure. I'm jet lagged and have been spending evenings reading Neal Stephenson's Anathem, which has miraculously succeeded at helping me understand a lot of my formal academic training. There's an especially obvious lit-crit joke about narrative and multiple universes that I spent a good half hour thinking about after lights out last night. Finally, understanding, twenty years later.
Tomorrow is more of the same. nfotxn's super awesome boyfriend has invited me to a potluck, but the thought of strangers sharing food isn't a happy one for me. Well, at least not strangers who live in a co-operative house or what have you. I'm Mr. Corporate this week and besides, honestly? I don't have any wine to bring and no kitchen to whip up something unique, and I don't want to be that sad clown who shows up with a bag of Lay's wearing a corporate logo'd chintzy polo shirt. But I'm sure I'll think of something else.
Buffalo is actually kind of beautiful, believe it or not. Houses have seen better days, sure, but they're well designed, old, graceful, and frankly humongous by California standards. I'd love to get downtown and take the elevator up City Hall or see one of the Lloyd Wright houses, but work's taking too long. Ah well - maybe next time.