When pigs fly..

So far, I have discovered that probably the most interesting thing about Cincinnati is its Flying Pigs.

Which does not mean that I have anything against the city. Flying Pigs are cool. Flying pigs are rare - and let's face it - ridiculously funny too.

Back in the 19th century, Cincinnati was an integral part of the pig trade, and had the unofficial nickname 'Porkopolis'. Now, several statues of flying pigs litter the city - statues that were auctioned off and decorated differently, so that each one is unique. I saw my first one at the airport itself the day I landed in Cincinnati.

It's been fun being in a new city, in a new apartment, at a new work-place, but who said having fun was always easy? Getting furniture for our unfurnished apartment proved to be a challenge, especially during the first few days when Mana and I were still car-less, stranded in the city with a public transportation system from Hell. We quickly became fans of furniture of the inflatable variety, and others that need to be assembled with screws and infinite patience. Our TV stand is made of six blocks of styrofoam, and our first shower curtain was made out of two trashbags. Now we have replaced it with a fancier one with penguins on it.

But we seem to have lost interest in the whole concept of real furniture.

I work in a cubicle in the basement. And my cubicle has a window. The story is that some employee requested an office with a window. Since his placement was in a cubicle, and even worse, the basement, he was told outright that his request could not be granted. Undeterred, he decided to make his own. He printed out a picture of the branch of a tree on 6 regular sized A4 sheets, and thumbtacked them together on the bulletin board behind his monitor. On the side is a hand-written note of 'Let us never forget the Sun'. Good advice. The world should be thankful for engineers' sense of humor.

Speaking of our sense of humor, the second issue of the AO was released to thunderous reviews on September 10. It was probably one of those rare moments that made me wish I was back in school this semester, just so I could bask in the glory of our success. We even made it to Dr. Mark's Wall of Fame, as Ammar put it. Some students over in the Journalism school at UT, inspired by our newsletter, created their own - which they call The Yellow Journalist. So now, we have earned bragging rights for being the paragon, the magnum opus, the originals - the founders of a very untraditional tradition.

The Renaissance Festival, which I went to yesterday, is a keeper of untraditional traditions as well. Some of the shows were hilarious, the actors' 14th century costumes cool inspite of the 91 degree weather, the little stores and stalls priceless. A ministrel group that I particularly liked had the best drinking song ever:

So put some more guiness in us,
It's a sin if it's not guiness I say,
So buy me some guiness, and pour it right in us,
It might, just help us to get through the day

Between ice-skating, indoor rock-climbing, raging at apartment management for converting the tennis court into a helipad, white-water rafting, long conversations with the people who matter most, creativity, waiting impatiently for the trees to get on with autumn, a general sense of well-being ... I wonder if Mana and I will ever get around to buying furniture.

Probably when pigs fly.