Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Just a reminder: In case you had forgotten, you are running out of time to buy me a ride. And while FAO may not be able or willing to wrap it for me, it had as hell better not show up under my Christmas tree without at least a big, red bow. And that's all there is to that.

Actually, I'd also be rather okay with this ride, and you don't have to wrap it at all - no bow or anything required. I mean, I'd, quite honestly, still love a bow, but I'd rather my joy on Christmas Day weren't diminished because you need to be taken to the ER due to several herniated discs.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 22:43.
2 comments

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The greatest sales pitch EVER, from a girl dressed in craziness trying to raise funds for the relay for life at her bake sale:

"Let's face it: Cookies are great (!) and cancer sucks!"


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 13:45.
0 comments

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Saturday, November 27, 2004

Boyfriend and pin.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 20:54.
1 comments

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It may be that only Nixon may go to China, but only Heaven is covered with Harvey Tiles.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 15:49.
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The SWS2.1 and Roommate Saga continues...

I arrived home, yesterday morning, after having barely slept in days with just enough time to shut my eyes for fifteen minutes and then get up and leave to be at work by 7.45am.

When I entered my room, all seemed in order other than the random girl on the couch who was eating an orange (my orange) and studying. Presumably, correctly, my roommate's younger sister. I made my introductions and then made my way to my computer, which was closed, as I had turned it off and closed it just before I left more than a day earlier.

And, slap-my-fanny, there were tortilla dregs on my keyboard. Too big to be crumbs, too small to be chips, but just the size of what's left when one has mostly finished off the bags and chooses to hold the bag above one's head and let the remaining slide down and into one's mouth.

Tortilla dregs on my keyboard -- where they'd been sitting for who knows how long -- literally sandwiched between my screen and the keys. The screen, which is easily scratched (luckily it doesn't appear to have been), and is one of the most expensive parts of any laptop. The keys which quickly degrade into uselessness when their underbelly becomes penetrated.

Didn't my roommate and I have a series of talks just weeks ago about how he has no respect for my property? Didn't I tell him he couldn't use any of my belongings anymore with a few enumerated exceptions and without my express permission? Didn't I lay into him when, less than 5 hours later, he in fact used something of mine and failed to put it back in such a way that caused me a headache and to waste time? Didn't I lay into when he did it again the very next day? Haven't I explained to him enough how everything he does only disproves the claims he continues to make that he is a nice, responsible, worthwhile human being? Haven't I been nice enough to overlook the glaring evidence that he has still continued to use my possessions all this time? Is my roommate too stupid to at least hide the evidence? Or, more precisely, not do a half ass job of hiding the evidence (like shutting down my computer and then closing it, as it had been before he did whatever he did with it, but failing to clean up the tortillas[!])?

When his sister leaves, I'm ripping him a new one. And then stuffing it with a bushel of lime flavored Tostitos.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 15:16.
0 comments

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Friday, November 26, 2004

Thanksgiving Thoughts and Sayings.

TT&S #1: It may have been a "Happy Turkey Day," but it certainly wasn't a happy day for turkeys.

TT&S#2: To A, who was raised Baptist, "You have very Protestant sex. Ha! That's funny. Sex. Like sects." I dunno that he got it, and I've been reading to much Weber.

TT&S#3: Women's Lib means cold pies. It occurred to me yesterday, when we were eating the apple and cream cheese pie that I concocted (that tasted great, btw), the pie would have tasted better had it been warm. Then it occurred to me that most of the pies I've had on Thanksgiving, or any other day, have been cold. Not just cool, but very nearly cold. Only not perfectly cold because they have been pulled out of the fridge and left carelessly on the counter to warm up. And only one conclusion can be drawn from this: Having pulled women out of the kitchen and placed them into the work place has left dinner and dessert preparation to the dogs and while, yes, a great deal of them do return to that classic place on Thanksgiving day, the spirit is no longer there. They aren't in the kitchen the whole time, and, surely enough, a great deal of the pies at the feast may not even have been homemade. I have not been there, but I feel safe in making the claim that in the old days the women only left the kitchen to serve the food and to briefly share in the saying of grace and when dessert time rolled around the pies were warm (even hot), with flaky pastry shells and dollops of ice cream that one had to gobble down as the heat of the pies were quickly turning them into soup.

::unbuttons jeans and sighs::


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 15:47.
0 comments

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Sunday, November 21, 2004

After discussing A with Adam today. And having already been thinking about it for a while... yeah, I think I'm gonna pop the Big 'B' and 'P' Question to A tomorrow night.

Or tonight on the phone because I have no sense of patience for such things.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 18:16.
0 comments

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Friday night I went over to A's to have a Buffy night. His roommate is a big fan and A thought that he owned some of the seasons on DVD (which begs the question why A had yet to ever see a single episode). Only, of course, his Buffy-obsessed roommate, as it turns out, does not own the DVDs. I actually know only one person who does, but he would never let them out of his apartment save to move to a new apartment so no hope of introducing A to Buffy that way.

So, instead we watched The Wizard of Oz and had a foursome. A, me, Ben and Jerry. The ice cream was my idea. The naked was his. Yay! for finding a boy who wants to see me bad naked.

And then, and your guess for why is as good as mine, we played a few rounds of Uno.

"You're out of the woods, you're out of the dark, you're out of the night. Step into the sun, step into the light."


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 11:50.
0 comments

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Saturday, November 20, 2004

A's very nearly ready to propose... or just say "I love you."

It's been two weeks. Just two weeks.

Which, by-the-way, I don't mind. I'm very loveable. And Lord knows that I need the validation.

But what does the boy with no emotions tell the boy very "in touch" with his emotions when the emotioned boy tells the a-emotioned boy those three pivotal words.

I think maybe I'll laugh.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 01:29.
0 comments

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Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy, and they'll be nice to you.


              Reba



promulgated by SWS2.1 at 17:51.
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Tuesday, November 16, 2004

I've been reading Sidewalk, and been thinking a lot about "unhoused" persons -- how they survive and on what they survive.

I didn't turn in my "reaction" paper for class to Sidewalk because it hit a little too close to home: my mother, my uncles, my aunts, my cousins -- all of them currently suffering or at one time or another suffered from severe drug addictions. My uncle having told me the staggering amount of money he's spent on crack in his lifetime and the fact that, no offense to my uncle, I'm quite certain he couldn't have made it in a proper manner. My mother never had money, but one of my earliest memories is of her drawing lines with her friends in her apartment. I have to wonder what they did to get by (get by = supply their addiction).

Although I don't really want to [wonder].

And these feelings about living on the street and doing what it takes to survive are swirling in my head. And then I was on the subway today and... for a few years now there has been this singing trio of aged black men. They moved from car to car singing hymns and asking for money. Today it hit me: they were no longer a trio, but a duo. And I realize I have been seeing them as a duo for a few months now.

Where'd the third go? Rehab? Prison? Death? What a terribly incredibly credible reality.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 22:18.
0 comments

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Someone entered my site by typing me into Google.

I'm like totally kvelling.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 01:09.
1 comments

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Monday, November 15, 2004

I've misplaced my planner. My day planner. It was oddly perfect because it went from Sept-2004 to Dec-2005. I'd written so many things down - due dates, pay dates, event dates. Plans, initiatives, coupon expirations.

It's always on my desk. And now it's not. For the life of me I cannot begin to formulate a conceivably narrow list of locations where it might currently be found.

It's black, slim, kinda square. It's beveled-ish. There is one paper clip, holding the directions to Allie G's for the shindig I did not attend in October. If found PLEASE return immediately.

I feel uncertainty.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 23:59.
0 comments

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Thursday, November 11, 2004

This recognizable, but mostly untalented, actor is an award-winning country music songwriter and was also a Rhodes Scholar?

Huh.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 22:21.
1 comments

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How was the date with A, you ask?

:-)

However, he is a bottom only insofar as he is not a top and only rarely wants to bottom and then only from guys with small penises.

Oh, what's a well hung stud to do?


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 14:45.
3 comments

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It's 8:49AM and rather than being in bed, still, with the boy who I dined and desserted last evening, I'm up, at my computer.

Because at about 8:10AM my roommate, who'd been given specific instructions to stay away and to take all of the necessary provisions with him, decided to return, for the second time during the date.

Right now all I can say is "Thank you, A, for being quick enough to realize the need to pull the covers over my exposed hiney when the key began flitting around in the lock."


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 08:49.
0 comments

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Wednesday, November 10, 2004

I was worried about this exam.

We finally got it back today. To make up for administering an exam that was too long (many of us raced to finish in time and almost no one left before time was up) and possibly too hard, our Prof. and TA did something a little creative.

For those of us who completely finished the midterm, we all received 3 bonus points.

If you did not finish the midterm (as in only answered five questions out of the six that were needed of the ten that were provided), however, they guessed what you might have said based on how you answered the other questions and graded you based on that and how they graded you on those other questions.

So if you just didn't answer a question, you got points anyway. It's win/win. But then, here's a question: Might those of us who answered all of the questions have fared better if we just didn't finish the exam at all? Would they have guessed that I would have answered more completely and correctly than I had?

But this isn't really a question for me. It's more a question for those who did really well on most of the questions, but super fucked up on one of them (perhaps the one they left to the end and didn't have time to complete -- perhaps the one on the book/study that they never got around to finishing).


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 14:50.
0 comments

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The other day I saw Julia Stiles walking on College Walk with who I presume is a friend of hers. I don't think she recognized me. Although she was rarely there in the class we had together, and since I was rarely in class myself, it made for few conversation exchanges.

About a week ago Jake Gyllenhaal was in Butler library talking to some nearly unremarkable girl (the only remarkable thing about her being that she was talking to Mr. Gyllenhaal).

Both of them should have graduated with what should have been my class, 2004.

I've also seen a number of other students who should have graduated last year walking around this term.

Is it possible that a distinct contingent of my classmates also took time out (to make money, to take a break, to shoot a film)? I hardly would have noticed, not being here myself.

Or did they all continue on to Columbia for grad school and not only are Jake and Jules celebrities, but they are also going for their Masters? Bastards.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 14:43.
0 comments

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Oh, Hossanah! I'm going on a date.

I've employed parsley, blackberries, salmon, vanilla, and the classic game of global domination to assist in carrying the evening off without a hitch.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 01:55.
0 comments

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Tonight I was telling my new therapist about my background: family, friends, childhood, etc.

She kinda started to tear up, stared at me for a while, and then said, "I just don't get it. I mean, how have you survived?"

I can't even begin to figure out how to respond to that question. I mean, it's a little validating, but it's not like my family was round up and all shot in front of me at My Lai.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 01:47.
0 comments

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Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Every now and then I find myself wondering about my continued fascination and interest in Country music. I know precisely how it started, but why has it persisted?

And then I encounter songs with titles like Deana Carter's "Did I Shave My Legs for This?" or the Notorious Cherry Bombs' "It's Hard to Kiss the Lips at Night that Chew Your Ass Out All Day Long," and it all becomes so clear.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 06:09.
0 comments

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Saturday, November 06, 2004

Eggnog is on the dairy shelves (!).

The holiday season is upon us. What are you going to put in my stocking?


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 22:19.
0 comments

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Can any of you, out there, explain to me why my roommate thinks that staying up for 35hrs straight to get himself back into a normal sleep schedule makes sense?

He stays up all night doing something, although under the auspices of doing work, sleeps all day, doesn't go to his classes, and then stays up all night writing papers he'll ultimately turn in late because he has no idea what to say because he has not gone to class.

And so, he's going to stay up some more. To get back to a normal schedule. He says he does this all the time.

I point out that in the nearly 3 months that we've lived together he's NEVER been on a normal sleep schedule and has consistently not gone to class and had problems completing his work. And so I say, "Rather than staying up for thirty-five hours, why don't you just sleep six more? Why don't you go to bed in two hours and wake up at a decent time tomorrow morning?"

"Dude, this is just my thing. It's what works for me."

"But clearly it's not working. Why do you think staying up for hours on end is a better idea than getting a few more hours sleep. Sure, you won't be doing your work, but you aren't doing your work when you're awake, either."

"Dude, I just need to stay up and get my paper done. If I go try to go to sleep now I'll just lay in bed doing nothing. Trust me."

Alright, good luck with that, sport.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 22:13.
1 comments

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So I violated the Yahoo TOS that I never bothered to read by linking to Cash's "Boy Named Sue" that I'd saved there.

So, no music for you. But the point remains: Perspective.

Boy Named Sue (by Shel Silverstein)

My daddy left home when I was three
And he didn't leave much to Ma and me
Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze.
Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid
But the meanest thing that he ever did
Was before he left, he went and named me "Sue."

Well, he must o' thought that is was quite a joke
And it got a lot of laughs from a' lots of folk,
It seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named "Sue."

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean,
My fist got hard and my wits got keen,
I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame.
But I made me a vow to the moon and stars
That I'd search the honky-tonks and bars
And kill that man that give me that awful name.

Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July
And I just hit town and my throat was dry,
I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
There at a table, dealing stud,
Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me "Sue."

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
From a worn-out picture that my mother'd had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old,
And I looked at him and my blood ran cold
And I said: "My name is 'Sue!' How do you do! Now you gonna die!"

Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes
And he went down but, to my surprise,
He come up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear.
But I busted a chair right across his teeth
And we crashed through the wall and into the street
Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell ya, I've fought tougher men
But I really can't remember when,
He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss,
He went for his gun and I pulled mine first,
He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile.

And he said: "Son, this world is rough
And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
And I know I wouldn't be there to help ya along.
So I give ya that name and I said good-bye
I knew you'd have to get tough or die
And it's that name that helped to make you strong."

He said: "Now you just fought one hell of a fight
And I know you hate me, and you got the right
To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do.
But ya ought to thank me, before I die,
For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye
Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you 'Sue'."

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun
And I called him my pa, and he called me his son,
And I come away with a different point of view.
And I think about him, now and then,
Every time I try and every time I win,
And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him
Bill or George! Anything but sue! I still hate that name!


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 19:20.
0 comments

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Thursday, November 04, 2004

In the wake of the recent Presidential Election, I'm going to take a maneuver from the Tramp and say nothing more about it, after this post. This post is dedicated to the "He shouldn't have won"s out there: Take a note from Johnny Cash (via Shel Silverstein).


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 21:04.
0 comments

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J'ai faim.

Merci, Michyale.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 13:22.
0 comments

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Wednesday, November 03, 2004

Is the 1 out of 10 voter turnout of the 18yo-26yo demographic tantamount to mass suicide?

Look out and head's up kiddies, 'cause P. Diddy's a-comin' at ya' like an errant locomotive in yo' membrane! Word.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 13:39.
0 comments

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Tuesday, November 02, 2004

Obama got Illinois. His DNC speech sent shivers down my spine. Shibby.

So sometimes people do the smart thing. Good to know.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 22:22.
0 comments

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And in the grand tradition of being overlooked and ignored...

I woke up early this morning and spent nearly an hour trying to get onto the NYC Voter Hotline because my Voter Registration card never came in and I wasn't positive where my polling location would be, or what I'd have to do when I got there (although I was pretty certain it would be Lerner, which it was).

When I finally managed to get through to someone, we spent 10min searching through the system for my information. How she finally managed to find it is unclear to me, but it suffices to say that I was on the brink of giving up and had already started mentally pre-writing a blog entry about the fiasco when she located me. She gave me my voter and district numbers for when I arrived at the polls.

Upon my arrival, I found the correct table for my district numbers (ED and AD), and, lo and behold, I was not in the book. In fact, they checked all of the other books as well (they weren't super busy yet). No mention of me anywhere. So they gave me a paper ballot and sent me off to some corner. I filled it out. Slipped it into an envelope. And the words, "That's it," being uttered by the boy who collected my paperwork ended my voting experience.

A little deflating, I gotta say. "I wanna push the button!"


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 10:47.
0 comments

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Monday, November 01, 2004

On WFMS 95.5 out of Indiana, they were talking about heartache and love lost (a common theme in country music). A caller called in to relate his "problems" and ask the host, Darren, what he should do:

Darren: "Here's 'Joe.' Sounds like he's having some life troubles. Whatsamatter, Joe?"

Joe: "Darren, I just don't know what to do. Last week we finalized the divorce. I was talking to her on the phone the day before and she said, 'I don't wanna argue anymore,' and she hung up the phone. She took away my kids -- my two boys. Petitioned the judge to have all the guns taken out of my house. She even had a restraining order put against me. Man, I just don't know what to do."

Darren: "Well, Joe, don't violate that restraining order."

Joe: "Yeah, but in the final papers of the divorce, she had the order lifted. So I can go 'round her whenever I want now, and see my boys. But, I-I just miss her so bad, I don't know what to do..."

The music started up as Joe kept talking: Travis Tritt, "It Must Be Love."

Art and Life get to the hotel to find that there is only one room left with just a single twin bed that they have to share in Country music.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 22:12.
0 comments

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The 27th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was proposed as part of the original Bill of Rights and was ratified by Maryland in December of 1789. Almost 203 years later it was finally ratified by New Jersey in 1992. California was the last to actually get in line, waiting until a month after the amendment was ratified.

The 27th Amendment: No law, varying the compensation for the services of the Senators and Representatives, shall take effect, until an election of Representatives shall have intervened.

It took two centuries for the Distinguished Gentleman of our nation to agree that they should not give themselves raises whenever they felt like it however they felt like it.

Interesting.


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 21:57.
0 comments

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Tonight I marched up 6th Avenue performing in the NYC Villlage Halloween Parade in a blonde wig, courtesy of Adam, "nude" stockings and a leotard courtesy of the New York Stocking Exchange, and a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader uniform courtesy of the fine people at AllCostumes.com.

I looked FIERCE... ly horrendous. Pictures are forth coming. Even now, several hours later, I'm having something of a "phantom hair crisis." I still feel the wig, though it's long since been removed.

There were three highlights to this evening:

1) Walking through SoHo past PRADA and Puma in the very daylit pre-parade hours and being hooted and hollered at by cornucopia of persons.

2) A cute little girl gasping at her little brother and pointing to me and shouting, "That cheerleader's a boy!" and being so happy about realizing it. Like the 20some other men around me were leaking estrogen from their rice-filled "boobs" ?

3) Being picked-up by a cute, HOT, 32yo guy from Costa Rica on the platform of the 1/9. I have the wig to thank for that. He caught a glimpse of it in my bag and had a conversational-in. I knew he was cute from seeing him and talking to him (and doing my best not to take my usual course of action and be off-putting and short). I know he's HOTT (yeah, now it's two T's) from having just had lots of hot sex with him and seeing his very nearly perfectly sculpted body.

This coming right after a night where I won't say I broke down, but something very near to that effect.

If wishes were horses...


promulgated by SWS2.1 at 01:09.
0 comments

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|Septimus Warren Smith 2.1|

I went to an Ivy League undergrad.
I go to a top NYC law school.
I date men (well...).
I live in Bed-Stuy.
I don't need more to say,
just more room to say it.
Etc.

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