So C and I have added a child to our household, an eight week old blue point siamese cat.Her name is Mame. She is very cute and a complete terror! I haven't had a kitten around in quite a while. I had forgotten what a handful they are. I hope to turn her into a fat lazy cat as soon as possible!
We drove out to Ohio to pick her up. Spent three long days in a car. One day out and two back. Stayed in a really crappy hotel off of I90 in Syracure. It was really nasty and the cat wouldn't shut up all night long. I believe that there were some nasty animal smells going on in that room that she really didn't care for. There were some that I didn't care for either! blech!
This begins my crazy travel month. I am off to NYC for our CMS/Sloan media trip on Thursday. I also have to be there for my Harvard class. We are meeting with the curator of the Guggenheim on Sat.
We had to pick which companies we'd prefer to meet with last week. The list was fairly short but had some good names. I got all of my first choices somehow...
I'll be meeting with Weinstein Co, New Line Cinema, Atari and the Independant Film Channel. I bought a suit just for this day. I believe I ranted about it some days ago. Turns out that we are to dress "business casual" damn it! I'm wearing my suit anyway. I'll just leave out the tie. I am so not doing the khaki thing! If I make people feel bad because I am somewhat dressed up then to god damn bad.
ugh! Mame is calling me.
later,
names...
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Monday, October 31, 2005
my life or something like it
so I am taking this class on memoir. By the end of the semester we are supposed to have some sort of story written about our lives. I think I might have to use this blog as a test site. I'm not sure how this will play out. I feel secure knowing that only two people read this. and I trust them both completely. However, I always felt my history was rather complicated. Knowing my audience, I believe that all of our lives are complicated. Perhaps the illusion is that lives are simple? We move through them with the belief that our experiences are singular. but perhaps the very fact that we are human and grew up in a heavily mediated culture leaves a common mark upon us all?
I sit here at one in the morning listening to seventies music. Old school Michael Jackson is playing in the background. I remember being very small, I was always the shortest person around. I believe I was under five feet tall well into my teens, perhaps until I was 17? Stupid short French genes.
I guess I was 11 or so. I shared a room with my brother (much to his embarrassment I am sure). He is significantly older than me, about 8 years. The year is 1980. At the time I am a huge fan of both disco music and Star Wars. There is a guy in our neighborhood who dresses up as Darth Vader. he is my brothers age. he does not hang out with my brother, he wants to hang out with me. I thought that was really cool. We played Star Wars. I was Luke to his Darth. Sometimes he would dress up as Spiderman or Captain America and do store events. I thought this was normal, kinda cool in fact. My parents did not agree. I was really sick at the time. I had pretty chronic asthma. I believe that this is why (to this day) I don't smoke cigarettes. I would steal my father's Kools and pass them to my sister and her friends. I wasn't supposed to run or play outdoor games that might even require a fast pace. My parents kept a watchful eye on me. Any site of me running and I was dragged into the house kicking and screaming.
Anyway, the point being my parents vigilence with my behaviour. They finally forbade me from hanging out with this guy. They started to think that he might be a little creepy. I didn't get it. Creepy how? they wouldn't say.
Flash forward a few years. This guy is in jail. it started with him peering into people's windows, a little bit of peeping tom thang. Unfortunately it escalated into him being caught with young boys of the neighborhood.
I don't mean to conflate the whole costume thing with pedophilia, it seems in poor taste given that it is Halloween and all. but that is my story and I am sticking to it.
Annoyingly enough I seem to attract many of these "caring older folk" as I become a teenager. And they are caught being child molesters. Thank god I was unattractive and misanthropic from the start.
names...
I sit here at one in the morning listening to seventies music. Old school Michael Jackson is playing in the background. I remember being very small, I was always the shortest person around. I believe I was under five feet tall well into my teens, perhaps until I was 17? Stupid short French genes.
I guess I was 11 or so. I shared a room with my brother (much to his embarrassment I am sure). He is significantly older than me, about 8 years. The year is 1980. At the time I am a huge fan of both disco music and Star Wars. There is a guy in our neighborhood who dresses up as Darth Vader. he is my brothers age. he does not hang out with my brother, he wants to hang out with me. I thought that was really cool. We played Star Wars. I was Luke to his Darth. Sometimes he would dress up as Spiderman or Captain America and do store events. I thought this was normal, kinda cool in fact. My parents did not agree. I was really sick at the time. I had pretty chronic asthma. I believe that this is why (to this day) I don't smoke cigarettes. I would steal my father's Kools and pass them to my sister and her friends. I wasn't supposed to run or play outdoor games that might even require a fast pace. My parents kept a watchful eye on me. Any site of me running and I was dragged into the house kicking and screaming.
Anyway, the point being my parents vigilence with my behaviour. They finally forbade me from hanging out with this guy. They started to think that he might be a little creepy. I didn't get it. Creepy how? they wouldn't say.
Flash forward a few years. This guy is in jail. it started with him peering into people's windows, a little bit of peeping tom thang. Unfortunately it escalated into him being caught with young boys of the neighborhood.
I don't mean to conflate the whole costume thing with pedophilia, it seems in poor taste given that it is Halloween and all. but that is my story and I am sticking to it.
Annoyingly enough I seem to attract many of these "caring older folk" as I become a teenager. And they are caught being child molesters. Thank god I was unattractive and misanthropic from the start.
names...
Friday, October 28, 2005
P.I.M.P.
okay, I let another month go by. It has been rather busy and stressful. One good thing. I am now the proud owner of a suit. the first I have owned since I was eighteen. And the first that cost more than a months rent. actually it was about three months. but I look damn sharp. and I will never, ever shop for another suit if I can help it. it has to have been one of the most excrutiatiing experiences of my life. It ranks up there with the GRE's. First stop was Brooks Brothers, where else does one go for suits? Sucked! the salesman was maybe 20, 24? completely unhelpful. assclowns! I wasn't about to give them my money.
On a whim we went into Ralph Lauren. I tried on one suit that was extremely sweet. the price was more than three times what I wanted to pay but I couldn't believe the way it fitted. it was fuckin amazing. that shit had my name on it. I put it on hold and said I would be back.
from there we went to Saks. I was waited on by an extremely messy woman. think older, overweight Jewish grandma with blue eyeshadow. I couldn't believe she was selling suits! who the fuck hired this woman? it was horrible! and the suit were so bad! I remember a year or so ago I would go into Saks and drool over the Prada suits. beautiful! Now it is fuggly Dolce and Gabbana suits made for raps stars or euro-trash. Closest I came was an Armani but it made me look like a pimp in a boxy kinda way. blech!
So, two days later I am back at RL meeting my salesman, James, and I buy a suit that cost more than all of my clothes combined! All in the name of corporate America. On Nov 11th my department and a bunch of Sloanies head to NYC and have out day long Media Corporation meet-a-thon. Over the course of the day we will be meeting with the recruiting for Sony, Bertlesmann, Viacom/MTV, Virgin, Atari, Nintendo etc. My suit will be put to work.
I went and picked up the suit today. I was talked into a tie to accent it. Not really talked into it because I know that once I put it on, I would buy it. The first tie I have ever bought and it cost me a hundred bucks. I'll be wearing this muther fucker to the grave.
In other news, I went down and visited Yale this week. It was open house for the Art History department. My meetings started at 9, thank you very much. I was up at 4:30 and on the train at 6. I get in at 8:45, grab a coffee and cab it over. I met with the interum grad director. one word: douchebag. it is nine in the morning and I have been up for 4 hours already (coffee on the train, reading, didn't sleep) and I have to deal with this guy who is actively trying to discourage me from applying. Dude! Fuck you!
At lunch with a grad student I learned that that is this guys modus operandi. he is basically there to weed out people. scare them away. I'm sorry but I was really insulted.
And then there is the campus of Yale. I took major photos which I will post when I can find the time.
It reminded me of Disneyland. It was fake and real at the same time. It was like a dream version of a college campus. Like what you would build if you have the money and the inclination. I think it was in comparison to MIT. MIT is completely utilitarian. there is no time for fancy, gothic architecture. The library (at Yale) looked right out of the fourteenth century, but clearly it couldn't be! it was so weird! no wonder people who go there are so fucking trapped in a WASP illusion. so, next day I am walking across my own campus and I see an woman with a hardcore, sixties flip that refuses to move in the gale force winds that go streaming across the quad followed by a bald man with a long ass beard riding a uni-cycle and chatting on his cell phone. I am a long fuckin way from New Haven and Yale. thats a good thing people. MIT may be full of socially awkward freaks but at least it isn't some weird, wanna-be American Oxford full of Abercrombie zombies that I want to destroy with a blow to the head.
long story short. I will apply and it will be an extremely long shot, seriously. I just don't think I am Yale material.
thank fuckin god for that!
ah, I got nothin else.
names out...
On a whim we went into Ralph Lauren. I tried on one suit that was extremely sweet. the price was more than three times what I wanted to pay but I couldn't believe the way it fitted. it was fuckin amazing. that shit had my name on it. I put it on hold and said I would be back.
from there we went to Saks. I was waited on by an extremely messy woman. think older, overweight Jewish grandma with blue eyeshadow. I couldn't believe she was selling suits! who the fuck hired this woman? it was horrible! and the suit were so bad! I remember a year or so ago I would go into Saks and drool over the Prada suits. beautiful! Now it is fuggly Dolce and Gabbana suits made for raps stars or euro-trash. Closest I came was an Armani but it made me look like a pimp in a boxy kinda way. blech!
So, two days later I am back at RL meeting my salesman, James, and I buy a suit that cost more than all of my clothes combined! All in the name of corporate America. On Nov 11th my department and a bunch of Sloanies head to NYC and have out day long Media Corporation meet-a-thon. Over the course of the day we will be meeting with the recruiting for Sony, Bertlesmann, Viacom/MTV, Virgin, Atari, Nintendo etc. My suit will be put to work.
I went and picked up the suit today. I was talked into a tie to accent it. Not really talked into it because I know that once I put it on, I would buy it. The first tie I have ever bought and it cost me a hundred bucks. I'll be wearing this muther fucker to the grave.
In other news, I went down and visited Yale this week. It was open house for the Art History department. My meetings started at 9, thank you very much. I was up at 4:30 and on the train at 6. I get in at 8:45, grab a coffee and cab it over. I met with the interum grad director. one word: douchebag. it is nine in the morning and I have been up for 4 hours already (coffee on the train, reading, didn't sleep) and I have to deal with this guy who is actively trying to discourage me from applying. Dude! Fuck you!
At lunch with a grad student I learned that that is this guys modus operandi. he is basically there to weed out people. scare them away. I'm sorry but I was really insulted.
And then there is the campus of Yale. I took major photos which I will post when I can find the time.
It reminded me of Disneyland. It was fake and real at the same time. It was like a dream version of a college campus. Like what you would build if you have the money and the inclination. I think it was in comparison to MIT. MIT is completely utilitarian. there is no time for fancy, gothic architecture. The library (at Yale) looked right out of the fourteenth century, but clearly it couldn't be! it was so weird! no wonder people who go there are so fucking trapped in a WASP illusion. so, next day I am walking across my own campus and I see an woman with a hardcore, sixties flip that refuses to move in the gale force winds that go streaming across the quad followed by a bald man with a long ass beard riding a uni-cycle and chatting on his cell phone. I am a long fuckin way from New Haven and Yale. thats a good thing people. MIT may be full of socially awkward freaks but at least it isn't some weird, wanna-be American Oxford full of Abercrombie zombies that I want to destroy with a blow to the head.
long story short. I will apply and it will be an extremely long shot, seriously. I just don't think I am Yale material.
thank fuckin god for that!
ah, I got nothin else.
names out...
Thursday, October 06, 2005
I got nothing
oh my, what a day. I was up at 6 to be at Saks by 8. a catered event for breast cancer. Ms. Elisabeth Hurley was in attendance along with 200 messy, messy Boston socialites. Yowza! no matter how many times I work a party at Saks I will always be astounded by bad bad outfits and plastic surgery! Where are all the attractive rich people? do they not live in Boston? Are they too busy to be at this event? perhaps they don't even exist in person? beauty is the ultimate fabrication. it can't be contained only chased. Certainly there were many gay men working at Saks helping messy rich women look for it! I tried to flirt in the vain attempt to get a discount on that Prada suit that I really, really need!.
Oh well. I left as everyone sat for lunch and hopped in a cab to make it to class in time. Very weird, one minute messy rich women the next I am hoofing it across Harvard Yard to talk about seventies performance art. How fucked up is my life?
then I spent the evening at the grad colloquium where they discussed the virtues of LOST vs. Buffy? Dude, I swear I haven't smoked pot in weeks. but at the moment it would help me make sense of my life.
instead I went home and cooked dinner and downed a bottle of wine.
Music of the moment is: Sting (stupid fuckin VH1 Classic)
names...
Oh well. I left as everyone sat for lunch and hopped in a cab to make it to class in time. Very weird, one minute messy rich women the next I am hoofing it across Harvard Yard to talk about seventies performance art. How fucked up is my life?
then I spent the evening at the grad colloquium where they discussed the virtues of LOST vs. Buffy? Dude, I swear I haven't smoked pot in weeks. but at the moment it would help me make sense of my life.
instead I went home and cooked dinner and downed a bottle of wine.
Music of the moment is: Sting (stupid fuckin VH1 Classic)
names...
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Comments about Bali
okay. I feel like I have to comment on this shit because I don't think Americans realise how fucked up these bombings are. Like many others growing up in Australia, Bali was this shit! The only American equivalent is probably Jamaica or Cancun. But not really because Indonesia is a much more complicated place.
So please picture this: you are hanging out in a beautiful tropical setting, cocktail in hand. Maybe a little buzzed, smoked a bit a grass. Then someone goes and blows shit up. Now, I am more than willing to admit that all those bitches on Girls Gone Wild Cancun should probably be blown the fuck up, and if I was a hyper religious person I would be extremely offended that they were hanging out on my land but god damn, blowing people up is some evil shit. Especially people on vacation. You know they saved up money, worked lots of hours at some shitty job so they could spend a week high in a tropical paradise. You want to make some change through explosions, then blow up the mother fuckers in charge. People staying at a Holiday Inn Bali are not deciding Australian Foreign Policy. Thats for damn sure.
I don't think this event is being given the exposure it deserves on US television. its really offensive.
Just wait. It will happen in Cancun, it will happen where we least expect it.
off to bed
names...
So please picture this: you are hanging out in a beautiful tropical setting, cocktail in hand. Maybe a little buzzed, smoked a bit a grass. Then someone goes and blows shit up. Now, I am more than willing to admit that all those bitches on Girls Gone Wild Cancun should probably be blown the fuck up, and if I was a hyper religious person I would be extremely offended that they were hanging out on my land but god damn, blowing people up is some evil shit. Especially people on vacation. You know they saved up money, worked lots of hours at some shitty job so they could spend a week high in a tropical paradise. You want to make some change through explosions, then blow up the mother fuckers in charge. People staying at a Holiday Inn Bali are not deciding Australian Foreign Policy. Thats for damn sure.
I don't think this event is being given the exposure it deserves on US television. its really offensive.
Just wait. It will happen in Cancun, it will happen where we least expect it.
off to bed
names...
just another mutha fuckin day
so Tuesday doesn't turn out as bad as it could have. I did blow off the gym. I haven't gone since Friday and am feeling extremely fat at the moment. Don't care. I am cutting red meat out of my diet and am substituting beer. its working so far. I am sticking to chicken and fish and beer. We'll see what happens. I am about 15 pounds overweight. I try to convince myself that I am simply getting heavier as I get older due to heavier bones. I don't think that shit flies unless I am growing bones in my gut. its doubly annoying as I am surrounded by anorexic nerds. young twink ass muther fuckers.
Slowly gathering data on grad schools. Was to have a meeting with a prof at Stanford today. fucked up the time translation. For some reason I read it inverse and so did she. She accepted the blame due to jet lag. I let her as she actually confirmed the time with me via email. I still felt like a retard. Nice to know that she did too. She gets points for that. Actually at this point Stanford is kinda tops. I like the work she does and they give full funding. You can't top that shit. I am not too sure about Palo Alto though. I hope to make a trip out in November and get a face to face. C has been there and said the campus is amazing. I just don't know. I am heading down to Yale in a couple weeks. Princeton is still an unknown but word on the street is they are spending a whole lot of money on their art department and faculty. As much as I hate to say it I wish there was a program at MIT. Despite the fact that my experience has been kinda annoying I DO get to do what I want. that is pretty big.
Vito Acconi was on campus today doing a presentation. He is famous for buiding a fake floor in a gallery and lying under it masterbating as people walked around the gallery. He was miked so they could hear everything. Straight men do it in a gallery and it is art. Gay men do it in a public restroom and get arrested. what the fuck? He has a crazy stutter and so do his assistants. it would be funny if it wasn't sad. I am meeting all these "seminal" artists from the seventies and they all look about ninety years old. I'm sure the sixties and seventies were great but god damn! You pay for that lifestyle shit. In the immortal words of Rick James "cocaine is a hell of a drug."
On a side note Marina Abramovic is recreating some famous performance pieces at the Guggenheim in November. One of them will be Vito's piece noted above, the title is "Seedbed." Gross
I'll be there. To continue this side note, my Harvard class HAS to attend this performance series. Since it is a requirement of the class Harvard will pay for one night of hotel in NYC. I said "Harvard will pay for one night stay in a hotel in NYC!" Can you believe that shit? That is out of control! I am totally taking advantage of it, of course but still! god damn! pay for my hotel bitches! I'll spend that money drinking at Cock!
Now the question is: where will I be staying? I think that the fuckin Hudson is in order. I love that hotel!
okay, enough for now.
names out...
Slowly gathering data on grad schools. Was to have a meeting with a prof at Stanford today. fucked up the time translation. For some reason I read it inverse and so did she. She accepted the blame due to jet lag. I let her as she actually confirmed the time with me via email. I still felt like a retard. Nice to know that she did too. She gets points for that. Actually at this point Stanford is kinda tops. I like the work she does and they give full funding. You can't top that shit. I am not too sure about Palo Alto though. I hope to make a trip out in November and get a face to face. C has been there and said the campus is amazing. I just don't know. I am heading down to Yale in a couple weeks. Princeton is still an unknown but word on the street is they are spending a whole lot of money on their art department and faculty. As much as I hate to say it I wish there was a program at MIT. Despite the fact that my experience has been kinda annoying I DO get to do what I want. that is pretty big.
Vito Acconi was on campus today doing a presentation. He is famous for buiding a fake floor in a gallery and lying under it masterbating as people walked around the gallery. He was miked so they could hear everything. Straight men do it in a gallery and it is art. Gay men do it in a public restroom and get arrested. what the fuck? He has a crazy stutter and so do his assistants. it would be funny if it wasn't sad. I am meeting all these "seminal" artists from the seventies and they all look about ninety years old. I'm sure the sixties and seventies were great but god damn! You pay for that lifestyle shit. In the immortal words of Rick James "cocaine is a hell of a drug."
On a side note Marina Abramovic is recreating some famous performance pieces at the Guggenheim in November. One of them will be Vito's piece noted above, the title is "Seedbed." Gross
I'll be there. To continue this side note, my Harvard class HAS to attend this performance series. Since it is a requirement of the class Harvard will pay for one night of hotel in NYC. I said "Harvard will pay for one night stay in a hotel in NYC!" Can you believe that shit? That is out of control! I am totally taking advantage of it, of course but still! god damn! pay for my hotel bitches! I'll spend that money drinking at Cock!
Now the question is: where will I be staying? I think that the fuckin Hudson is in order. I love that hotel!
okay, enough for now.
names out...
beer is food
ugh, Tuesday. it's back. It feels like it was only yesterday that I was bitching about it. Thankfully it is a Jewish holiday so one of my classes is cancelled and I am not going to the other one. So there is less to bitch about today.
It is probably a good thing though. I had a shitload of reading to do (please, who assigns 500 pages to read in a week?) which I never got around to doing. C and I spent the week in an alcoholic haze. We started Friday evening at Flash's with friends where I began my drinking journey with a Maker's Mark Manhatten. I stopped drinking these for a while as I began to dislike the taste. but absence seems to reinvigorate the tastebuds. hmmmmm good. Since I am a lightweight I had two then switched to beers for the rest of the night. Its why God invented cabs. we drank for several hours then went out to dinner where we drank more. It was Grif's birthday. thats all we needed to know. Let the drinking commence! We were booted out of the restaurant by the staff. I was ready to keep drinking but everyone wussed out. We ended up walking home. I tried to convince C that we should stop by the Grad bar as we just happened to be walking past it. Alas, we went home and crashed. Well, C crashed, I had another beer and put the Simpsons season 5 on.
Saturday I worked cater-waiter, or the gay national guard as C calls it. I believe he stole that from Will&Grace. Neighbors had a party. I arrived shortly after midnight and proceeded to drink until 4 when I stumbled back to our place. There was a couple at the party that needed to be talked about so I had to hang out until they left. It was one of those unfortunate gay man/girlfriend couples. I just assumed they were the typical best friend relationship but no! girlfriend and gay boyfriend. Too bad. Perhaps he was simply the effeminate heterosexual? they do exist, somewhere. But he was WAY gay. poor girl. I'm sure she knows. How can she not? I chock it up to the fact that people make relationship choices that suit them pyschologically. Its best not to even go there. Sad thing is that someday they'll be married and he'll be cheating on her in some restroom or maybe at the gym.
Who knows? I tried to be extra gay to inspire him that it would be for the best if he just came out. I live to serve.
Sunday was way hung. I got dragged to Target by C and in retaliation I dragged him to the B-Side. Guinness is the only cure for a hangover. Stayed too long, went home and cooked dinner at 10. felt like big city folk.
tried catching up on my reading yesterday. did quite a bit. then we went back to the B-side. I just had to.
Now it is Tuesday, god damn it!
Perhaps a visit to the B-side tonight?
names...
It is probably a good thing though. I had a shitload of reading to do (please, who assigns 500 pages to read in a week?) which I never got around to doing. C and I spent the week in an alcoholic haze. We started Friday evening at Flash's with friends where I began my drinking journey with a Maker's Mark Manhatten. I stopped drinking these for a while as I began to dislike the taste. but absence seems to reinvigorate the tastebuds. hmmmmm good. Since I am a lightweight I had two then switched to beers for the rest of the night. Its why God invented cabs. we drank for several hours then went out to dinner where we drank more. It was Grif's birthday. thats all we needed to know. Let the drinking commence! We were booted out of the restaurant by the staff. I was ready to keep drinking but everyone wussed out. We ended up walking home. I tried to convince C that we should stop by the Grad bar as we just happened to be walking past it. Alas, we went home and crashed. Well, C crashed, I had another beer and put the Simpsons season 5 on.
Saturday I worked cater-waiter, or the gay national guard as C calls it. I believe he stole that from Will&Grace. Neighbors had a party. I arrived shortly after midnight and proceeded to drink until 4 when I stumbled back to our place. There was a couple at the party that needed to be talked about so I had to hang out until they left. It was one of those unfortunate gay man/girlfriend couples. I just assumed they were the typical best friend relationship but no! girlfriend and gay boyfriend. Too bad. Perhaps he was simply the effeminate heterosexual? they do exist, somewhere. But he was WAY gay. poor girl. I'm sure she knows. How can she not? I chock it up to the fact that people make relationship choices that suit them pyschologically. Its best not to even go there. Sad thing is that someday they'll be married and he'll be cheating on her in some restroom or maybe at the gym.
Who knows? I tried to be extra gay to inspire him that it would be for the best if he just came out. I live to serve.
Sunday was way hung. I got dragged to Target by C and in retaliation I dragged him to the B-Side. Guinness is the only cure for a hangover. Stayed too long, went home and cooked dinner at 10. felt like big city folk.
tried catching up on my reading yesterday. did quite a bit. then we went back to the B-side. I just had to.
Now it is Tuesday, god damn it!
Perhaps a visit to the B-side tonight?
names...
Monday, October 03, 2005
Dude! I made the seventh level of hell! kick ass!
The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test
Here is how you matched up against all the levels:
| Level | Score |
|---|---|
| Purgatory (Repenting Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers) | Very Low |
| Level 2 (Lustful) | Very High |
| Level 3 (Gluttonous) | High |
| Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious) | Very High |
| Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy) | Very High |
| Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics) | Very High |
| Level 7 (Violent) | Extreme |
| Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers) | Very High |
| Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous) | High |
Take the Dante Inferno Hell Test
Saturday, October 01, 2005
and I am horrified to discover that he is a nerd!
crap, it's October already. I don't know if I can deal with that fact.
So the two week period of corporate schmoozing is over. I have applied for an associates position at McKinsey. We'll see if anything comes of it. I have absolutly no idea whether or not it will. Honestly I don't even care. At this point I am starting the process of applying to Phd programs. I have limited it to 5. I only really want to apply to 3 but C is giving me a hard time about it. I am just being lazy. Five applications? that is a total pain in the ass. For Masters I only applied to two! and that was annoying enough.
whatever. I am off to Yale in a week or so to take a look at their program. I ran into a friend of mine who just finished his MFA there and he gave me the scoop. There is only one person there who is worth studying contemporary art with. Pretty much everyone else in the art history department is pretty entrenched in their own little world. Don't even mention the words contemporary or post-moderism in their presence. Their philosophy department is pretty old world as well. Nothing exciting going on. Plus, it is New Haven. nuff said.
I am speaking with a professor at Stanford on Tuesday. I am actually taking a class at Harvard with a former student of hers. She seems cool. But I don't know about Palo Alto. It does seem like MIT on the west coast but I am not so sure that that is a good thing. MIT hasn't exactly been ringing my bells lately. Speaking of MIT here is the story in this weeks Tech about my run in with anti gay slogans on campus.
Then there is Princeton. I don't know if I could handle Princeton. I get the feeling that the students would be more annoying that Harvard undergrads. There is only so much self centered elitism I can handle. I'd constantly have the urge to smack people. Of course that happens on a daily basis at MIT but for different reasons. Sometimes I just can't handle nerds. Sorry to say. I reallise that I am one, however there is only so much I can take.
more later,
names out...
So the two week period of corporate schmoozing is over. I have applied for an associates position at McKinsey. We'll see if anything comes of it. I have absolutly no idea whether or not it will. Honestly I don't even care. At this point I am starting the process of applying to Phd programs. I have limited it to 5. I only really want to apply to 3 but C is giving me a hard time about it. I am just being lazy. Five applications? that is a total pain in the ass. For Masters I only applied to two! and that was annoying enough.
whatever. I am off to Yale in a week or so to take a look at their program. I ran into a friend of mine who just finished his MFA there and he gave me the scoop. There is only one person there who is worth studying contemporary art with. Pretty much everyone else in the art history department is pretty entrenched in their own little world. Don't even mention the words contemporary or post-moderism in their presence. Their philosophy department is pretty old world as well. Nothing exciting going on. Plus, it is New Haven. nuff said.
I am speaking with a professor at Stanford on Tuesday. I am actually taking a class at Harvard with a former student of hers. She seems cool. But I don't know about Palo Alto. It does seem like MIT on the west coast but I am not so sure that that is a good thing. MIT hasn't exactly been ringing my bells lately. Speaking of MIT here is the story in this weeks Tech about my run in with anti gay slogans on campus.
Then there is Princeton. I don't know if I could handle Princeton. I get the feeling that the students would be more annoying that Harvard undergrads. There is only so much self centered elitism I can handle. I'd constantly have the urge to smack people. Of course that happens on a daily basis at MIT but for different reasons. Sometimes I just can't handle nerds. Sorry to say. I reallise that I am one, however there is only so much I can take.
more later,
names out...
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Damn memory palaces
Tuesdays are a pain in the ass. The day seems interminable. 10 am to 10 pm. Ugh...
Ran my ass all over Cambridge as well. Perhaps it makes up for not going to the gym today?
Spent practically the entire day talking and thinking about memory. Sherry's class was about Winnicott's transitional objects. Winnicott was a child psychologist/psychoanalyst during the fifties. Transitional objects are those that children use to replace the breast once they are removed from the mother. It is an object that is separate from the child yet makes the child feel whole. We were discussing whether or not a technological device can be this object. I personally feel that those whose psyche is positioned a certain way, perhaps an unresolved oral stage? (thanks Freud) will use technology to return to this state of completeness. We had to write about a personal object from out childhood and then read it out to the class. So far we have had to do this every week. Its starting to get annoying. I took the stereotypical route and said I had a blanky that became a stuffed animal. It made her happy and she left me alone. I refuse to let on how much I have read in terms of psychoanalysis. I want to see how she teaches it. My friend kestrell keeps trying to get me to engage in a conversation about it with her. No thanks! Not to say that she isn't nice but I am a little skeptical of her pedagogical style. I think she is using us to work out issues in her book. Not that that is a bad thing but it gives me reason to be a bit cautious. I asked her about Melanie Klein and she said "great question, we'll go over it in a bit." never happened.
tonight's class was all about memory palaces. I hated the readings with a passion. I won't go into it. If you are curious google that shit. Halfway though class the stupid one asked about differentiating between media and medium. The conversation took a turn for the worse. It reminded me of my first year in art school where we were asked to define "fine art" and "craft." One of the most absurd conversation I have been spectator to in quite a while. Finally I told them that they were rehashing the tedious arguments of structuralism and how attempting to define media was a conversation for the fifties. Aren't we past that shit now? What about post-structuralism, post-modernism, post-post-modernism. These issues have been discussed ad nausium in the art world and it is only just now that media studies is trying to figure this shit out? Christ, catch up people.
People just want nice, neat little boxes in which to line up all of their ideas. It is easier that way. God forbid you actually use your brain and realise that the world doesn't work that way.
UPDATE: There will be an article in the student newspaper "the Tech" on the anti-gay writings on blackboards around campus and the fact that no one is dealing with it. I am stirring up shit now! Ignore me will you? I'll go to the media!
I might have to forward the story to friends at Planetout.
going to try and sleep now. Insomnia beware!
names...
Ran my ass all over Cambridge as well. Perhaps it makes up for not going to the gym today?
Spent practically the entire day talking and thinking about memory. Sherry's class was about Winnicott's transitional objects. Winnicott was a child psychologist/psychoanalyst during the fifties. Transitional objects are those that children use to replace the breast once they are removed from the mother. It is an object that is separate from the child yet makes the child feel whole. We were discussing whether or not a technological device can be this object. I personally feel that those whose psyche is positioned a certain way, perhaps an unresolved oral stage? (thanks Freud) will use technology to return to this state of completeness. We had to write about a personal object from out childhood and then read it out to the class. So far we have had to do this every week. Its starting to get annoying. I took the stereotypical route and said I had a blanky that became a stuffed animal. It made her happy and she left me alone. I refuse to let on how much I have read in terms of psychoanalysis. I want to see how she teaches it. My friend kestrell keeps trying to get me to engage in a conversation about it with her. No thanks! Not to say that she isn't nice but I am a little skeptical of her pedagogical style. I think she is using us to work out issues in her book. Not that that is a bad thing but it gives me reason to be a bit cautious. I asked her about Melanie Klein and she said "great question, we'll go over it in a bit." never happened.
tonight's class was all about memory palaces. I hated the readings with a passion. I won't go into it. If you are curious google that shit. Halfway though class the stupid one asked about differentiating between media and medium. The conversation took a turn for the worse. It reminded me of my first year in art school where we were asked to define "fine art" and "craft." One of the most absurd conversation I have been spectator to in quite a while. Finally I told them that they were rehashing the tedious arguments of structuralism and how attempting to define media was a conversation for the fifties. Aren't we past that shit now? What about post-structuralism, post-modernism, post-post-modernism. These issues have been discussed ad nausium in the art world and it is only just now that media studies is trying to figure this shit out? Christ, catch up people.
People just want nice, neat little boxes in which to line up all of their ideas. It is easier that way. God forbid you actually use your brain and realise that the world doesn't work that way.
UPDATE: There will be an article in the student newspaper "the Tech" on the anti-gay writings on blackboards around campus and the fact that no one is dealing with it. I am stirring up shit now! Ignore me will you? I'll go to the media!
I might have to forward the story to friends at Planetout.
going to try and sleep now. Insomnia beware!
names...
insomnia & performance art
insomnia. it is four in the morning. I wake up when C goes to the bathroom. I begin thinking about how much I have to do today. Forget it. There is no going back to sleep for me. I have a paper due at 2 this afternoon. I meant to tackle it today to give myself time tomorrow for a rewrite. Never happened. I spent the day at the MFA shooting video for a performance by Zhang Huan. It was amazing and a great opportunity however I should have made time for writing. whatever.
In the hour and a half that I had free I went wandering around the museum. It was nice. its been a while since I have done that. When I worked there I used to spend time every week or so just wandering and looking around. It tended to be very soothing. If my day was going crazy and people wouldn't leave me alone I could disappear into the galleries. As my days get more and more full of things I need to accomplish NOW, quiet time has become extremely rare. Granted I have been spending time working (job not schoolwork) and when not working I am hanging out with C. I kinda want the weather to get shitty so that I will lock myself in the library. When it is nice out I am not so inclined to do work. funny how that is...
I think I'll try and write some of that paper now.
names...
In the hour and a half that I had free I went wandering around the museum. It was nice. its been a while since I have done that. When I worked there I used to spend time every week or so just wandering and looking around. It tended to be very soothing. If my day was going crazy and people wouldn't leave me alone I could disappear into the galleries. As my days get more and more full of things I need to accomplish NOW, quiet time has become extremely rare. Granted I have been spending time working (job not schoolwork) and when not working I am hanging out with C. I kinda want the weather to get shitty so that I will lock myself in the library. When it is nice out I am not so inclined to do work. funny how that is...
I think I'll try and write some of that paper now.
names...
Thursday, September 22, 2005
ooh
ohhh today is the big day, the CAREER FAIR. (I felt it deserved caps) Just whom shall I pursue today? I am compiling the list of companies that I plan on visiting. I don't really know how this shit works, I'm just winging it really. We don't need to carry resumes around because if you posted it to the website by the end of last week the school has compiled them on a CD that they give to all the companies attending. Pretty sweet eh? I am going to print a bunch up anyway cause I am anal like that.
I am catering this evening. Some big shin-dig at Saks. I can hardly wait to see all the tight skin and bleached hair of the women who shop there. I jibe but it is purely jealousy. There isn't much I can afford there, but then again is there much I would want to buy there? I don't wear a suit, fancy clothes, etc...come to think of it there isn't much I would be jealous of. I actually find it kind of aggregious to spend that kind of money on clothes.
which is not to say I don't like nice clothes, I do. however, that kind of spending is a little much.
oh and a foot note for TK about the woman getting shot mentioned in a previous entry. She worked for my mother at the time. Her husband was in the military and off in Korea or someplace at the time. She survived the shooting and ended up staying at our house for weeks! Doing nothing but lying around in a bathrobe watching TV. My mother was ready to strangle her by the time her husband showed up. She was a total freak and drove my parents crazy! My mother kept saying she wished she had been shot in the mouth so she wouldn't have been able to talk. pretty funny.
off to clean up for the fair.
names...
I am catering this evening. Some big shin-dig at Saks. I can hardly wait to see all the tight skin and bleached hair of the women who shop there. I jibe but it is purely jealousy. There isn't much I can afford there, but then again is there much I would want to buy there? I don't wear a suit, fancy clothes, etc...come to think of it there isn't much I would be jealous of. I actually find it kind of aggregious to spend that kind of money on clothes.
which is not to say I don't like nice clothes, I do. however, that kind of spending is a little much.
oh and a foot note for TK about the woman getting shot mentioned in a previous entry. She worked for my mother at the time. Her husband was in the military and off in Korea or someplace at the time. She survived the shooting and ended up staying at our house for weeks! Doing nothing but lying around in a bathrobe watching TV. My mother was ready to strangle her by the time her husband showed up. She was a total freak and drove my parents crazy! My mother kept saying she wished she had been shot in the mouth so she wouldn't have been able to talk. pretty funny.
off to clean up for the fair.
names...
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
the suckiest bunch of sucks who ever sucked
so it is career week and there are no classes? I get up (relatively) early and chug coffee preparing to go to my Sloan class. Check the online syllabus and realise that there are no classes this week! Now granted I am only a listener on this class. It is a Financial Theory class. I was talked into it by a classmate only to have him never go to it! It is interesting so far but seems to me to be common sense stuff. who knows?
Maybe it gets harder? Best part about it is watching all the uptight Sloan MBAs who are paying three times the tuition I am, stressing out. MBAs are total freaks! At least these are. I am sure they are all very nice people. Perhaps it is this school that does it to them?
who knows? I ain't got class today. I'm off to the gym.
names...
Maybe it gets harder? Best part about it is watching all the uptight Sloan MBAs who are paying three times the tuition I am, stressing out. MBAs are total freaks! At least these are. I am sure they are all very nice people. Perhaps it is this school that does it to them?
who knows? I ain't got class today. I'm off to the gym.
names...
career week
So it is career week. Last night I went to a food and drink fest hosted by a fancy consulting company to sell themselves to LGB people. I leave out the T because there is no mention of it on their literature. I considered mentioning it to them but as I was drinking on their tab I thought it might be inappropriate. I'll be sure to bring it up on Thursday when I visit their booth at the career fair. "What about the transgendered? don't you care about them?" That sad part is that most LGB organisations don't. The trans community still complicates things for people who can't wrap their mind around the endless possibilites of gender identitfication. Who cares how you view yourself as long as you aren't hurting anyone? Why can't people just accept?
Well being the bitter muther fucker that I am, I know why. Because thinking that way is complicated and people don't like to think complicated thoughts because it is hard. There are things in life that are hard and we spend an inordinate amount of time avoiding them.
Case in point. I am taking a class with Sherry Turkle, a rather famous person who has written quite a bit about personalities and technologies. You should google her. Anyway, she is also a trained (and formerly practicing) psychoanalyst. The last two classes have consisted of us writing and reading out loud stories about our childhood. the toys we played with and the spaces we interacted with that most affected who we are today. Needless to say I hated every moment of it. I don't like thinking about my childhood. Not that it was terrible, I wasn't beat or abused. but my childhood consisted of distant parents and constant moving as most military children can probably attest to. I did happen to have traumatic things happen around me which I have supressed. There is something about having a person shot on the far side of the wall surrounding your house that can lead one to certain anxieties. I'm sure we were better off having them not enter our house but still its pretty fucked up.
Then there is the moment when we were having a picnic at the beach and people started shooting. A woman standing next to me was shot in the side and turned to look at me as she fell to the ground. She was a co-worker of my mothers who decided on a whim to come with us. Shitty move on her part I must say.
But then the class is about memoir. How it is written and how technology plays a part in that story. Since technology is a huge part of my life it seems that the class might actually come to some good. we'll see.
Back to career week. I am tired of being poor. It is all well and good being a starving artist when one has a trust fund however when one has looming student loans it is not quite so romantic. is it wrong of me to want to get a job that pays a hundred grand to start?
I feel like I am selling out.
names...
Well being the bitter muther fucker that I am, I know why. Because thinking that way is complicated and people don't like to think complicated thoughts because it is hard. There are things in life that are hard and we spend an inordinate amount of time avoiding them.
Case in point. I am taking a class with Sherry Turkle, a rather famous person who has written quite a bit about personalities and technologies. You should google her. Anyway, she is also a trained (and formerly practicing) psychoanalyst. The last two classes have consisted of us writing and reading out loud stories about our childhood. the toys we played with and the spaces we interacted with that most affected who we are today. Needless to say I hated every moment of it. I don't like thinking about my childhood. Not that it was terrible, I wasn't beat or abused. but my childhood consisted of distant parents and constant moving as most military children can probably attest to. I did happen to have traumatic things happen around me which I have supressed. There is something about having a person shot on the far side of the wall surrounding your house that can lead one to certain anxieties. I'm sure we were better off having them not enter our house but still its pretty fucked up.
Then there is the moment when we were having a picnic at the beach and people started shooting. A woman standing next to me was shot in the side and turned to look at me as she fell to the ground. She was a co-worker of my mothers who decided on a whim to come with us. Shitty move on her part I must say.
But then the class is about memoir. How it is written and how technology plays a part in that story. Since technology is a huge part of my life it seems that the class might actually come to some good. we'll see.
Back to career week. I am tired of being poor. It is all well and good being a starving artist when one has a trust fund however when one has looming student loans it is not quite so romantic. is it wrong of me to want to get a job that pays a hundred grand to start?
I feel like I am selling out.
names...
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
career week
So it is career week. Last night I went to a food and drink fest hosted by a fancy consulting company to sell themselves to LGB people. I leave out the T because there is no mention of it on their literature. I considered mentioning it to them but as I was drinking on their tab I thought it might be inappropriate. I'll be sure to bring it up on Thursday when I visit their booth at the career fair. "What about the transgendered? don't you care about them?" That sad part is that most LGB organisations don't. The trans community still complicates things for people who can't wrap their mind around the endless possibilites of gender identitfication. Who cares how you view yourself as long as you aren't hurting anyone? Why can't people just accept?
Well being the bitter muther fucker that I am, I know why. Because thinking that way is complicated and people don't like to think complicated thoughts because it is hard. There are things in life that are hard and we spend an inordinate amount of time avoiding them.
Case in point. I am taking a class with Sherry Turkle, a rather famous person who has written quite a bit about personalities and technologies. You should google her. Anyway, she is also a trained (and formerly practicing) psychoanalyst. The last two classes have consisted of us writing and reading out loud stories about our childhood. the toys we played with and the spaces we interacted with that most affected who we are today. Needless to say I hated every moment of it. I don't like thinking about my childhood. Not that it was terrible, I wasn't beat or abused. but my childhood consisted of distant parents and constant moving as most military children can probably attest to. I did happen to have traumatic things happen around me which I have supressed. There is something about having a person shot on the far side of the wall surrounding your house that can lead one to certain anxieties. I'm sure we were better off having them not enter our house but still its pretty fucked up.
Then there is the moment when we were having a picnic at the beach and people started shooting. A woman standing next to me was shot in the side and turned to look at me as she fell to the ground. She was a co-worker of my mothers who decided on a whim to come with us. Shitty move on her part I must say.
But then the class is about memoir. How it is written and how technology plays a part in that story. Since technology is a huge part of my life it seems that the class might actually come to some good. we'll see.
Back to career week. I am tired of being poor. It is all well and good being a starving artist when one has a trust fund however when one has looming student loans it is not quite so romantic. is it wrong of me to want to get a job that pays a hundred grand to start?
I feel like I am selling out.
names...
Well being the bitter muther fucker that I am, I know why. Because thinking that way is complicated and people don't like to think complicated thoughts because it is hard. There are things in life that are hard and we spend an inordinate amount of time avoiding them.
Case in point. I am taking a class with Sherry Turkle, a rather famous person who has written quite a bit about personalities and technologies. You should google her. Anyway, she is also a trained (and formerly practicing) psychoanalyst. The last two classes have consisted of us writing and reading out loud stories about our childhood. the toys we played with and the spaces we interacted with that most affected who we are today. Needless to say I hated every moment of it. I don't like thinking about my childhood. Not that it was terrible, I wasn't beat or abused. but my childhood consisted of distant parents and constant moving as most military children can probably attest to. I did happen to have traumatic things happen around me which I have supressed. There is something about having a person shot on the far side of the wall surrounding your house that can lead one to certain anxieties. I'm sure we were better off having them not enter our house but still its pretty fucked up.
Then there is the moment when we were having a picnic at the beach and people started shooting. A woman standing next to me was shot in the side and turned to look at me as she fell to the ground. She was a co-worker of my mothers who decided on a whim to come with us. Shitty move on her part I must say.
But then the class is about memoir. How it is written and how technology plays a part in that story. Since technology is a huge part of my life it seems that the class might actually come to some good. we'll see.
Back to career week. I am tired of being poor. It is all well and good being a starving artist when one has a trust fund however when one has looming student loans it is not quite so romantic. is it wrong of me to want to get a job that pays a hundred grand to start?
I feel like I am selling out.
names...
Friday, September 16, 2005
careful what you wish for...
oh it has been one of those weeks. Funding is still up in the air, my student loans have finally gone through but for some reason it will be several days before I see a check and I walk the earth with a dollar to my name. its kinda funny, no matter how far I go being broke will always be a state of mind. I have no money and I don't seem to want anything. Besides a beer of course and C is kind enough to support my habit. I imagine that is survival on his part, when I'm down and I ain't got beer to keep me sane, mutha fuckas watch out.
On that note today seemed to be the day for free drinking. there were three events on campus that promised free beers for grad students. I'd say that I qualify! hmmmm free buzz.
Anyway things are getting kooky. Spent the free beverage events talking to the newbies. they are awfully enthusiastic. I don't trust enthusiasum. Bitterness I understand and trust but enthusiasum? no, not at all. give it time. they will come to see that this institution sees them as fodder. it took me ten minutes but then I am smarter than most or is it bitter-er?
I had an incident this week that makes me expecially bitter towards the school. C and I met for drinks at the grad bar. Now the grad bar is in this monolithic building that holds the radio station and numerous student groups one of which is the LGBT group room. Down the hall from the LGBT center is the men's bathroom. For some reason that probably made sense in the early 20th century when the building was built, there is a rather large blackboard above the urinals. Now these are old school urinals that run about 5 ft. high to the floor along one side of the wall and above it is the blackboard. So I go to take a piss and realise that there are all kinds of anti-gay slogans and derisive language all over it. big, small various types of handwriting. and I start to get pissed. because I know that someone is just being a douchebag here. They see the LGBT center and for some reason that threatens their fragile sense of self and they need to get their frustrations out for all the world to see. The main thing is that it isn't easy to write on this board, you have to REALLY want to write something cause that shit is high and you have to either stand or get a chair or some shit to avoid standing in a fuckin urinal!
So I head back to the grad bar and pour myself another beer (land of the six dollar pitcher of beer!) open my laptop and pen a letter to all the LGBT committee members I know, in addition to the dean of grad students and the head of student life.
What do I hear back? I get a reply from another LGBT committee member telling me that this has been going on for a while and they are "documenting it" and they know that it is one particular student who is doing it.
and I hear nothing else! no one even saw fit to email me back and say damn that sucks or anything! Douchebags!
because you know if someone had written a racial slur every mutha fucker in the city would be there protesting and making a big fuckin stink. C keeps bugging me to take it farther and make a big deal about it. But you know what? I realised coming to MIT that there are a lot of people who are closeted here. There are those people who have shuttered themselves up in a life of science to the disavowal of their sense of self. It is a world of the mind and not the body. These are people who are extremely uncomfortable in their bodies. They exist in the intellectual.
its really disheartening.
names...
On that note today seemed to be the day for free drinking. there were three events on campus that promised free beers for grad students. I'd say that I qualify! hmmmm free buzz.
Anyway things are getting kooky. Spent the free beverage events talking to the newbies. they are awfully enthusiastic. I don't trust enthusiasum. Bitterness I understand and trust but enthusiasum? no, not at all. give it time. they will come to see that this institution sees them as fodder. it took me ten minutes but then I am smarter than most or is it bitter-er?
I had an incident this week that makes me expecially bitter towards the school. C and I met for drinks at the grad bar. Now the grad bar is in this monolithic building that holds the radio station and numerous student groups one of which is the LGBT group room. Down the hall from the LGBT center is the men's bathroom. For some reason that probably made sense in the early 20th century when the building was built, there is a rather large blackboard above the urinals. Now these are old school urinals that run about 5 ft. high to the floor along one side of the wall and above it is the blackboard. So I go to take a piss and realise that there are all kinds of anti-gay slogans and derisive language all over it. big, small various types of handwriting. and I start to get pissed. because I know that someone is just being a douchebag here. They see the LGBT center and for some reason that threatens their fragile sense of self and they need to get their frustrations out for all the world to see. The main thing is that it isn't easy to write on this board, you have to REALLY want to write something cause that shit is high and you have to either stand or get a chair or some shit to avoid standing in a fuckin urinal!
So I head back to the grad bar and pour myself another beer (land of the six dollar pitcher of beer!) open my laptop and pen a letter to all the LGBT committee members I know, in addition to the dean of grad students and the head of student life.
What do I hear back? I get a reply from another LGBT committee member telling me that this has been going on for a while and they are "documenting it" and they know that it is one particular student who is doing it.
and I hear nothing else! no one even saw fit to email me back and say damn that sucks or anything! Douchebags!
because you know if someone had written a racial slur every mutha fucker in the city would be there protesting and making a big fuckin stink. C keeps bugging me to take it farther and make a big deal about it. But you know what? I realised coming to MIT that there are a lot of people who are closeted here. There are those people who have shuttered themselves up in a life of science to the disavowal of their sense of self. It is a world of the mind and not the body. These are people who are extremely uncomfortable in their bodies. They exist in the intellectual.
its really disheartening.
names...
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
top o' the heap
Christ! its been a month already! okay, school has started again so I should have the time to waste on this site.
Its been a busy month. I went from having a decent income to being completely broke. Its amazing how bitter that makes me. As I sit here doing the paper chase with my student loan company (tomorrow AM will bring about the THIRD attempt at faxing them a rather significant document that they seem to keep losing) I am ready to punch someone in the face. The problem is that the companies tend to hire overly cheerful people to answer their customer complaints so while I am pretty pissed off, I would feel bad yelling at someone who is being pleasant to me. Ultimately they are only doing their jobs, and probably getting paid pretty shitty wages. while I hate people, I really don't want to be a douchebag despite the fact that I have twenty bucks to live on...forever!
Drama moment over. I am living on twenty bucks but Big C has gotten a promotion that comes with a rather large raise so I can live off of him for a week or so but still. I was planning on going to London this week but that is out the window...I suppose I could have bought the tickets this summer when I had a job and money to burn but I am such a tightass that I kept waiting for the tickets to get cheaper! oh well...wasn't meant to be.
And so back to school. I just had class with the very woman who brought me to MIT. Sherry Turkle. Pretty amazing and quite forthright. If she wants to put some of your work in her book, she will. She will do us the courtesy of asking us but who in their right mind would say no? She is fuckin Sherry Turkle!! There was an undergrad in the class who complained about how it required too much reading. hello! this is MIT you fuckhead...sorry to make you WORK! Go back to mechanical engineering loser. She actually asked him to stay afterwards so she could convince him to stay in the class! I'm sure he'll stay. She will tell him that he doesn't have to do any reading or something. She is probably looking to psychoanalyse him. Make him a test subject.
Anyway. I might be off to SF soon to take a look at a major video collection. The collectors came here and we all had a very fancy lunch (the head of the Architecture department, the director of the art center, the curator of said art center and quite a few others.) I took the liberty of inviting myself out to look at their house and their collection. I had to flirt a little bit with their curator which was fine as he was kinda cute in an art nerdy kinda way.
oh and here is the list of the 10 songs that have floated to the top of my iPod. Better late than never, right boys?
Air "Alone in Kyoto." My current favorite faggy french art music. this is from the Lost in Translation soundtrack but is on a very good album called Talkie Walkie.
Angie Stone "Just a Pimp." Angie Stone is fabulous. LOVE HER! and this is about her man who just happens to be a pimp. Very 70's R&B, Roberta Flack-esque. kick ass.
Atreyu "Bleeding Mascara." Nouveau metal and they are named after the kid in Neverending Story! need I say more?
Jill Scott "Golden." one of my few happy moment songs. I love jill scott! great voice, amazing lyrical narrative. good times.
Kyuss "50 Million Year Trip." one stoned groove. All I can think is that it must be a lot of fun to play. Fire up the bong, turn out the lights and go.
Lacuna Coil "Heaven's a Lie." Italilan neo-metal. female singer who only dresses in Gucci. heavy, black, dark and very dramatic music. Come on, they're Italian!
Nightwish "I wish I had an Angel." Same as above only they're from Norway. Dark, dramatic, Scandinavian...
Scissor Sisters "Take Your Mama." New favorite band. Love this album. not as big a fan of their reworking of Comfortably Numb (sorry Mike) a close runner up is the Tits on the Radio.
Spice Girls "Say You'll be There." big gay moment, Spice Girls! Who doesn't love them? A moment in history that will never be back...ah girl power where are you when I need you?
Missy Elliott "Pussycat." the top of my heap! "pussy don't fail me now!" It is sheer poetry. Missy is the shit!
that is all...
names out.
Its been a busy month. I went from having a decent income to being completely broke. Its amazing how bitter that makes me. As I sit here doing the paper chase with my student loan company (tomorrow AM will bring about the THIRD attempt at faxing them a rather significant document that they seem to keep losing) I am ready to punch someone in the face. The problem is that the companies tend to hire overly cheerful people to answer their customer complaints so while I am pretty pissed off, I would feel bad yelling at someone who is being pleasant to me. Ultimately they are only doing their jobs, and probably getting paid pretty shitty wages. while I hate people, I really don't want to be a douchebag despite the fact that I have twenty bucks to live on...forever!
Drama moment over. I am living on twenty bucks but Big C has gotten a promotion that comes with a rather large raise so I can live off of him for a week or so but still. I was planning on going to London this week but that is out the window...I suppose I could have bought the tickets this summer when I had a job and money to burn but I am such a tightass that I kept waiting for the tickets to get cheaper! oh well...wasn't meant to be.
And so back to school. I just had class with the very woman who brought me to MIT. Sherry Turkle. Pretty amazing and quite forthright. If she wants to put some of your work in her book, she will. She will do us the courtesy of asking us but who in their right mind would say no? She is fuckin Sherry Turkle!! There was an undergrad in the class who complained about how it required too much reading. hello! this is MIT you fuckhead...sorry to make you WORK! Go back to mechanical engineering loser. She actually asked him to stay afterwards so she could convince him to stay in the class! I'm sure he'll stay. She will tell him that he doesn't have to do any reading or something. She is probably looking to psychoanalyse him. Make him a test subject.
Anyway. I might be off to SF soon to take a look at a major video collection. The collectors came here and we all had a very fancy lunch (the head of the Architecture department, the director of the art center, the curator of said art center and quite a few others.) I took the liberty of inviting myself out to look at their house and their collection. I had to flirt a little bit with their curator which was fine as he was kinda cute in an art nerdy kinda way.
oh and here is the list of the 10 songs that have floated to the top of my iPod. Better late than never, right boys?
Air "Alone in Kyoto." My current favorite faggy french art music. this is from the Lost in Translation soundtrack but is on a very good album called Talkie Walkie.
Angie Stone "Just a Pimp." Angie Stone is fabulous. LOVE HER! and this is about her man who just happens to be a pimp. Very 70's R&B, Roberta Flack-esque. kick ass.
Atreyu "Bleeding Mascara." Nouveau metal and they are named after the kid in Neverending Story! need I say more?
Jill Scott "Golden." one of my few happy moment songs. I love jill scott! great voice, amazing lyrical narrative. good times.
Kyuss "50 Million Year Trip." one stoned groove. All I can think is that it must be a lot of fun to play. Fire up the bong, turn out the lights and go.
Lacuna Coil "Heaven's a Lie." Italilan neo-metal. female singer who only dresses in Gucci. heavy, black, dark and very dramatic music. Come on, they're Italian!
Nightwish "I wish I had an Angel." Same as above only they're from Norway. Dark, dramatic, Scandinavian...
Scissor Sisters "Take Your Mama." New favorite band. Love this album. not as big a fan of their reworking of Comfortably Numb (sorry Mike) a close runner up is the Tits on the Radio.
Spice Girls "Say You'll be There." big gay moment, Spice Girls! Who doesn't love them? A moment in history that will never be back...ah girl power where are you when I need you?
Missy Elliott "Pussycat." the top of my heap! "pussy don't fail me now!" It is sheer poetry. Missy is the shit!
that is all...
names out.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
oy vey
so, I sit here at 1:30 in the morning. I just got back from La Prov and the opening night of the film fest. I am exhausted and a little drunk. upon boarding the return train I was informed by the conductor that I had the wrong ticket. The silly broad at South Station sold me the wrong ticket. She charged me the correct price, of course, but gave me the wrong ticket. Luckily I kept my receipt. plus I think the conductor didn't really give a shit but I had enough paper for him to leave me alone. He tried to charge me $2.50 more but I convinced him otherwise.
Oh Prov. I have such a love hate relationship with that town. The ex is still there living right above one of my best friends K. I can't spend the night there in the event he spots me. It wouldn't be good. He has a bit of a stalker tendency. its been 7 years and he still loves me. or so I am told. he hasn't actually told me but I know second hand that I am still a topic of discussion. I don't think I even want to open that door. I still have the emotional and physical scars of that relationship. I am a far saner man away from him. What is it with the self destructive nature of relationships? Do we outgrow it? Is there a point where we all realise that what we want from a relationship is really not what we want? Does one adjust and accept? I am beginning to feel that my crisis is stemming from a personal isolation. I'm not going into detail here and I probably shouldn't mention it here at all as that seems rather...inappropriate.
moving on. RIIFF
not bad, opening movies were very dark, which was hella funny because the programmer had this dumb ass teen country star, who is trying to make a comeback out of the darkness of puberty, show up at the end with his new "making of" videos. It would have been hysterical if I didn't think it incredible insulting. His songs were written by Orin Hatch. your friend and mine. The Orin Hatch, hatemonger. So while 90 minutes of incredibly dark short films are playing, young country boy is out in the lobby with his family. Dressed to the nines in country finery. Looking extremely...how should I say this? ...fey? with hordes of teeny bopper fans. Amusing? yes indeed!
I grabbed K out of the theatre and we headed to the afterparty early, to kick start our drinking. and lo, the party sucks. No free booze! I planned two parties for this fest and both of mine either have free food or free booze. I'm not fucking stupid. I plan a party that I might want to attend! this event had shitty wine, shitty food and trashy people. If I ever need a reminder to not move back to Prov, I will think back to all those outfits I had to witness at this party. K and I ran out of cash and headed to the bar that is hosting tomorrow nights party. had a nice glass of wine and headed to the train.
which brings me full circle.
I love it when a ramble comes together. tomorrow night is my Rosa Von Praunheim tribure with the Goethe Institute.
Love it! gay nazis! drag queens and a party that will have free food that is actually edible! go figure...but after tonight I haven't committed. maybe I'll stay home...
names
Oh Prov. I have such a love hate relationship with that town. The ex is still there living right above one of my best friends K. I can't spend the night there in the event he spots me. It wouldn't be good. He has a bit of a stalker tendency. its been 7 years and he still loves me. or so I am told. he hasn't actually told me but I know second hand that I am still a topic of discussion. I don't think I even want to open that door. I still have the emotional and physical scars of that relationship. I am a far saner man away from him. What is it with the self destructive nature of relationships? Do we outgrow it? Is there a point where we all realise that what we want from a relationship is really not what we want? Does one adjust and accept? I am beginning to feel that my crisis is stemming from a personal isolation. I'm not going into detail here and I probably shouldn't mention it here at all as that seems rather...inappropriate.
moving on. RIIFF
not bad, opening movies were very dark, which was hella funny because the programmer had this dumb ass teen country star, who is trying to make a comeback out of the darkness of puberty, show up at the end with his new "making of" videos. It would have been hysterical if I didn't think it incredible insulting. His songs were written by Orin Hatch. your friend and mine. The Orin Hatch, hatemonger. So while 90 minutes of incredibly dark short films are playing, young country boy is out in the lobby with his family. Dressed to the nines in country finery. Looking extremely...how should I say this? ...fey? with hordes of teeny bopper fans. Amusing? yes indeed!
I grabbed K out of the theatre and we headed to the afterparty early, to kick start our drinking. and lo, the party sucks. No free booze! I planned two parties for this fest and both of mine either have free food or free booze. I'm not fucking stupid. I plan a party that I might want to attend! this event had shitty wine, shitty food and trashy people. If I ever need a reminder to not move back to Prov, I will think back to all those outfits I had to witness at this party. K and I ran out of cash and headed to the bar that is hosting tomorrow nights party. had a nice glass of wine and headed to the train.
which brings me full circle.
I love it when a ramble comes together. tomorrow night is my Rosa Von Praunheim tribure with the Goethe Institute.
Love it! gay nazis! drag queens and a party that will have free food that is actually edible! go figure...but after tonight I haven't committed. maybe I'll stay home...
names
Thursday, August 04, 2005
My whole life is a dark room, one big, dark room
I feel like I need to spend some time thinking and writing about my current malaise. I am finding it quite inexplicable. Why depression? is it a depression? It doesn't feel like one of those stay in bed, curtains closed, shut out the world kinda moments. It's more like a dissatisfaction that can't be explained away, drunk away or distracted from. Maybe its the fact that I feel there is something wrong or missing with my life that I can't pinpoint. Am I on the crux of a life changing moment that leaves me confused and cautious? But then again it doesn't manifest itself as confusion. It is closer to an exhaustion. Maybe I just need a vacation? Perhaps I need to travel(by travel I mean on an airplane)? I haven't gone anywhere in over a year. I am planning on going to London in Sept. maybe that will shake me out of my slump?
Reaching back I realise that the feeling was sparked by a visit to my parents. This, of course, seems like an obvious "trauma" event that could have sparked my current state of mind. But visiting them wasn't traumatising. What is was was a moment where I realised that my life is going to be very different from my parents. Thanks to grad school I have an entirely different trajectory that will take me far away from anything I ever would have considered possible. We sat at Castle Hill, watching the sailboats go by and having cocktails. There was no conversation. My parents didn't say a word. My father walked away and wandered the lawn. It was weird. I did't know what to make of it.
back to work, more later.
Reaching back I realise that the feeling was sparked by a visit to my parents. This, of course, seems like an obvious "trauma" event that could have sparked my current state of mind. But visiting them wasn't traumatising. What is was was a moment where I realised that my life is going to be very different from my parents. Thanks to grad school I have an entirely different trajectory that will take me far away from anything I ever would have considered possible. We sat at Castle Hill, watching the sailboats go by and having cocktails. There was no conversation. My parents didn't say a word. My father walked away and wandered the lawn. It was weird. I did't know what to make of it.
back to work, more later.
Monday, August 01, 2005
monday, monday
ahhhh mondays. They arrive far too quickly. Its amazing how quickly I tired of the real world. I have one more month before I return to the security of campus. and of course, a much more pleasant schedule. I am currently registered for 4 classes. I think I will have to change that. I'm not sure about a whole year of German. Sure, it sounds great but do I really want to learn another language?
This weekend is finally over. I believe I will chock this one up to a continuation of my existential crisis which began sometime last week. Went down to my parents in Newport. I did this with the intention of getting my tattoo worked on. How was I to know that they would be booked up for the entire weekend? who makes reservations at at tattoo parlour? OK, I did but I know better having been screwed like this before. But I couldn't even get an appointment! jerks! And so I spent Friday night and Sat with my parents. C came down on the bus Sat morning. Which was pretty amusing. He is not a bus person and was quite traumatized by the 90 minute trip. we played tourist all day, right down to paying for parking. This was mostly to shut my father up as he began bitching almost immediately about the traffic, people, parking etc...
We had lunch at the Black Pearl which used to be a nice place (or maybe I imagined it) but it was pretty lame now. Paid way too much for rather mediocre food. Well my mother did which made me feel guilty as it kinda sucked! She wanted lobster and had to settle for a lobster salad sandwich. It would seem that their new chef is quite fond of mayo as EVERYTHING came with it!
We had a much better experience at Castle Hill. We drove around Ocean Drive and I had my dad take us to Castle Hill. We were all in need of a cocktail (well C and I were.) Much better. Sitting on a porch with a drink in hand watching the sail boats go by. The house sits high upon a hill with a lawn that slopes down to the ocean. there was a wedding setup down by the water line. Addirondack chairs dotted the lawn with cocktail service! We chose to sit up at the bar as it was too sunny and I try to avoid the sun as much as possible. we watched the wedding and then headed out to take the bus home.
to be cont...
I'll write more later, time to get ready for work.
names.
This weekend is finally over. I believe I will chock this one up to a continuation of my existential crisis which began sometime last week. Went down to my parents in Newport. I did this with the intention of getting my tattoo worked on. How was I to know that they would be booked up for the entire weekend? who makes reservations at at tattoo parlour? OK, I did but I know better having been screwed like this before. But I couldn't even get an appointment! jerks! And so I spent Friday night and Sat with my parents. C came down on the bus Sat morning. Which was pretty amusing. He is not a bus person and was quite traumatized by the 90 minute trip. we played tourist all day, right down to paying for parking. This was mostly to shut my father up as he began bitching almost immediately about the traffic, people, parking etc...
We had lunch at the Black Pearl which used to be a nice place (or maybe I imagined it) but it was pretty lame now. Paid way too much for rather mediocre food. Well my mother did which made me feel guilty as it kinda sucked! She wanted lobster and had to settle for a lobster salad sandwich. It would seem that their new chef is quite fond of mayo as EVERYTHING came with it!
We had a much better experience at Castle Hill. We drove around Ocean Drive and I had my dad take us to Castle Hill. We were all in need of a cocktail (well C and I were.) Much better. Sitting on a porch with a drink in hand watching the sail boats go by. The house sits high upon a hill with a lawn that slopes down to the ocean. there was a wedding setup down by the water line. Addirondack chairs dotted the lawn with cocktail service! We chose to sit up at the bar as it was too sunny and I try to avoid the sun as much as possible. we watched the wedding and then headed out to take the bus home.
to be cont...
I'll write more later, time to get ready for work.
names.
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