Worth the wait

First, a resolution: I will not mention the fact that my work-study gig is going down the tubes due to incompetence and that the Masters program, my whole reason for being in pierogi country, is not looking all that secure either. Nor will I mention that it is academically a pretty solid program and if you are so inclined you can give them a shout at http://www.mastersinpoland.com. I will not say that they have five spots available for June and that from an academic/career perspective it is a definitely worthwhile gig, especially if you choose the commuter option. I will not say any of that.

So what is there for me to say? Well, scanners are out. In a moment of revolting optimism I had thought otherwise- I was wrong and hence we now go back to our regularly scheduled pessimism. In this morose state, I will tell you about my little holiday trip to Cracow, but first a brief intro.

I am pretty sure my father thinks I'm gay. I don't remember ever bringing a girl home which was largely for two connected reasons: most of the ladies whom I was friendly with were black Americana and I have never heard my parents say anything good about that group. When I moved to Memphis for college (70% black population), my mother took to asking everytime I mentioned a friend "Is s/he white?" 'Nuff said.

Now, due to his concern that I might be getting gay, every time I mention a male friend, my father wants to know if that person is gay. As if I know. This may shock readers of this blog but I do not ask friends, acquiantences and future enemies if they are gay. Not really my business, see.
When I moved to New York, my father showed ever greater concern by asking that I please avoid prostitutes because many are transvestites "with schlongs bigger than yours." Thanks dad.

I am glad to report that I have been avoiding transvestites quite successfully. With that in mind, take a look-see at the Cracow Glowny train station platform.



If you spend enough time analyzing this picture you will see the stocking-clad bony leg of an actual Polish transvestite on the wooden bench to the left. I was hoping for a better shot (how often do you see trannies in Poland?) but he (or she) did not seem the most sociable sort so it's not like I could ask for permission to take a photo.

Incidentially, I have an interview with a college in Qatar on Wednesday, because I heard that Doha is the Mecca for Jewish not-gay bloggers who aspire to take pictures of trannies.



P.S.: Not that I have any problems with gays, many of whom run away from home and become EFL teachers. Nor do I have any objections to transvestites who usually advance on the career ladder to school directors. It's just that I happen to be neither. There goes my shot at a promotion.