| Enutrof |
[Dec. 6th, 2008|01:25 pm] |
Well, I was saddened to see today that Sunny von Bülow had died. Mostly, I was sad because I had totally forgotten that she was a live and I usually pride myself on keeping up with the passings of popular culture icons and such.
At least we have a front runner now for who "kicks ass" next week for pub trivia. For those that don't know, our weekly pub trivia team used to be called Dayquil Fog for the first few years, but when my first set of teammates all graduated and moved out of the area, I brought in some new people, including my friend who dubbed the team "Hillary Duff Kicks Ass!!!", always with three exclamation points. At that point in time, I didn't even know who she was. After a few months of that, Hillary began to be replaced by other ladies of her ilk including the rising star Anne Hathaway and the newly lesbianized Lindsay Lohan. Then, we reached a point, where we'd randomly pick a person we thought kicked ass, because they were in the news, they died, they were on our minds or some such. And then, we'd try to keep a full month of team names with a theme. So, we might be Ann B. Davis Kicks Ass!!! one week... and then the next week we'd either be Linda Lavin, Courtney B. Vance, or Charlotte Rae kicking ass.
For the last 2-3 years, we usually reserve our team name homage to a powerhouse member of the recently deceased, ranging from Marcel Marceau to Odetta, with some interludes for Lehman Brothers and the defunct non-transmitting Mars missions.
Maybe I should kill some time today and write a pub trivia round of some themed sort to cheer myself up more. |
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| Boys on the Side |
[Aug. 8th, 2008|12:56 pm] |
O-M-Gee! Lance is brilliant. That is so the perfect movie title to sum up my hate-love-hate relationship with boys!
Sure, the movie actually has lesbianism, and believe me all currently single gay men are scum, but that still doesn't make me want to "work the va-jay-jay" as Tracy Jordan is wont to say on 30 Rock. Now I just have to find a way to convince my brain that boys are more like a sprig of parsley, looking nice next to me, but really not necessary and kinda bitter if you actually eat it. Better yet, maybe they are like the Brussels sprouts side dish at Atwoods: They are quite tasty, and the little orbs fit so nicely in your mouth, but I wouldn't want to eat them every week. Possibly it is like when you get the house salad in a restaurant and you ask them to give you the balsamic vinaigrette (damn, that's how that's spelled. Wow, this is why I own a dictionary to look this stuff up.) on the side. If you left the dressing to its own devices, there would be too much of it, soaking and wilting and suffocating every leaf like a lettuce soup. In your hands, the dressing just leaves a nice coating to boost the flavor of the salad, and you can just toss the rest of it when you're done. In order for each leaf to remain strong and stand up, only a little dressing can be let in. And there is always the conundrum: do you want fries or a salad with your meal? Fries provide their own greasy lubrication and depending on how they are cut, they can have a fun trip into your mouth. With sweet potato fries, you get to enjoy another color; with curly fries, you get a more interesting angle; and who doesn't like spicy fries. As for the salad, it is like the slogan on the back bumper of my lesbian friend: "Vegans taste better." If I'm going to have to eat something, I guess I want it to be corn-fed and from the Midwest. It isn't like I'm high maintenance wanting my boys on the side; they just seem to have a tendency to ruin perfectly good meals.
Also, as a side note, I spent a little time yesterday "finding" some songs on my list of songs I really wanted to have in my iTunes. Much of this was from a list I created at the end of 2006, so I guess I'm a bit behind the times, but I've realized I need to buy a bunch of Radiohead albums on iTunes so I have more than a random handful of songs. They were playing a lot of Radiohead in Diesel yesterday, so that was quite nice. One of the songs I'm really happy with now having is the Colin Hay redux of Overkill that he did for one of the more touching episodes Scrubs. It is really just a remake of his Men at Work song, but with just the acoustic guitar, it is SO much more powerful. Also, because I've been having so much fun playing it with the gang on Rock Band, I got Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Every time we play it, it grows more on me. I totally never thought I'd like Rock Band, but a) I'm not actually afraid to sing in front of other people b) the guitar isn't so bad on the lower levels, but I've not tried with all 5 keys yet c) the drums are actually really cool, though I get way to into it and break out in a sweat. For some reason, for me, the Wii has to be real. I cannot do the minimal motion when I play tennis, I have to mimic my terrible real-life backhand. There is a reason you have to move all the furniture when I'm over. |
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| My Boys |
[Aug. 7th, 2008|01:34 pm] |
I started by brainstorming popular culture things with boys in the title. I wasn't having much luck, and as you can see, I opted for the TV sitcom that has had some critical acclaim but I haven't even seen it. All I wanted to do was rant about how 2007-2008 would have been perfect if I didn't know any gay men. Of course, I do have several good friends who happen to be boys and happen to be gay but I don't think of them that way. I guess these are just the local ones I was trying to build up something more interesting with. Some of my failed choices were:
• Where the boys are [which, if I knew the answer to that or could stomach Connie Francis' voice I might have chosen]
• The Boys from Brazil [unlike everyone else, I don't seem to have this Brazilian fetish that everyone else in New England seems to have, and I am generally turned off by Nazi movies that don't have Harrison Ford in them, or a bunch of cute boys dancing with the Nazis (like Noah Wyle and Robert Sean Leonard in Swing Kids)]
• Boys Don't Cry [Not true, and boys are really good at making other boys cry. Though them main character doesn't actually have a penis, at least for a long time she had access to Chad Lowe's]
• The Lost Boys [Ah, the first movie my family owned and incredibly sentimental; however, it doesn't have anything to do with the boys in my life since they aren't lost, since I never found any good ones in the first place. Our first family vacation was after we had watched that moved approximately 50 times, so my mother, sister and I just bandied lines back and forth to each other all over Scandinavia. "Step on it does not mean warp speed!" Kiefer in a deliciously evil role, as he's so good at doing, long before he became the superman, Jack Bauer. "How do you like your maggots, Michael?" The two Coreys long before they got their own hotline on the Simpons or became beaten up shells of humans on reality TV. "Silly boy, never invite a vampire into your home." Oh and my favorite two-Oscar winner as the single mom; gosh, I really do love everything Diane Wiest does "But I still want you Lucy, I haven't changed my mind about that...." (in evil Edward Hermann voice) and a few more quotes to end without more ramble "Death by stereo!" "Try holy water, death-breath!"] [I am also appropriately listening to the Vampire Weekend album while I type this.]
• Riding in Cars with Boys [I'm not sure if I have any good stories about experiences driving with boys. There was the hideous month when I was trekking out to the middle of nowhere Massachusetts to hang out with the stripper twins. Then there was the car 'incident' with the closeted loser. Or the time I got pulled over with that tool in my car right after my license plates got stolen. Heck, maybe I should just chase after Drew Barrymore. No, wait! Henry Thomas. My first male crush that I didn't even realize. Replay... in my head... that wonderful scene where he kisses the girl in his biology class... wishing I were her. My first gay memory before I even knew what gay was.]
• Boyz 'n the Hood [Well, I never did so well with all those guys who liked keeping things on the DL. I really don't understand certain subcultures. Also, hoods can mean so many things. None of which seem to be useful, Red Riding Hood, Robin Hood, oh wait, hmm... I guess some guys do have hoods :)]
• Wonder Boys [Boys who like bread? Boys inspired by old men who like Catherine Zeta Jones? Which brings up something I never have understood. Why do so many guys want bread? I mean I guess as economics have changed, more poor guys have become gay, or more opportunist guys have realized that there are a lot of rich unslightly gay men with disposable cash. I wonder when the oldest profession first started having boys as purveyors not just clients.]
• Bad Boys [Hmm... maybe this is a better title after all. "My" implies ownership and clearly all the guys in my life were beyond control. I really don't want to give any props to Martin Lawrence since I've never liked a single thing he's done, and damnit now, I have the Cops theme stuck in my head.]
Ok. I spent so much time working on the title for my blog posting, I now no longer feel like I have anything to say. Let me summarize. I'm tired of flaky gay boys who are all about being shallow and playing games, and I don't mean those fun ones like Settlers or MarioKart. Maybe I'll begin a ranting series about each of the losers I interacted with in the last two years. Thankfully, I don't think the whole lot of them together could pull together enough brain cells to find this website. And if they did, they would probably be like John McCain and think that Paris Hilton was supporting him. |
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| Rent Control |
[May. 17th, 2008|11:04 am] |
I have woken up feeling refreshed after my second evening in a row of drinking, and third night of the 5 this week. No wait, I drank Tuesday too, but only a little. Rent, the movie, was on TV. It is so hard to watch people older than me play 20 year olds, but then again, isn't that what I pretend to do every day? Well, I definitely think that both Peter Pan and Dorian Gray were on to something.
Roger just seems old now, far far too old. Mark is still as cute and neurotic as he was over a decade ago, and his distinctive voice still shines through. I guess Angel and Maureen seem the same, but Tom Collins just makes me feel like I'm watching Law and Order, since that's how I think of him now. Rosario Dawson is fine it in, but I always like things to stay the same. However, I did get to see her in person when she had the female lead in the John Guare musical version of Two Gentlemen of Verona at Shakespeare in the park. That was back when Greg was the assistant music director and I got to sit with all the cool people, and then afterward I got to meet some of the women who were also in the movie Camp (and stand next to Rosario as she was catching up with old friends).
Well, I just wanted to try to get back into the habit of writing in my journal every day. I don't have much to say in pop culture ranting, but more will come soon. |
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| What mighty contests arise from trivial things! |
[May. 16th, 2008|05:18 pm] |
Of course, that was said by the only Pope I have every given any credence too, Alexander. No, no, not Pope Alexander but Alexander Pope. Of course, he was more concerned with fairies and hair, of course both of which are causing me problems too.
My hair is getting super long again. Liz, my hair stylist for the last 9 years has disappeared from the salon, and they don't know where she has gone to (and I'm sure they are lying). However, my professional relationship with Liz is the longest in my life, as my dentist, Dr. V, and I have only been together for 8 years. Originally, after I left MIT, I was looking for a new haircutter when Tim, the boyfriend of the post-doc Terry in my lab, left Technicuts for the South End. Since I'd rather be disemboweled than willingly walk into the South End, I asked people at Tufts who should cut my hair, and my friend Michelle had her hair cut by this woman Liz who was on Newbury Street. And guess what? She was the hair stylist on Good Will Hunting and any woman who had run her hands through Matt Damon's hair, could do whatever she wanted to mine. And I've been trying to track her down; she knows all about my life and my trials and travails with men and school over the years. So, until then, I'll look like Grizzly Adams sans barbe.
Currently, I'm trying to awaken from my New Year's resolution and return to the world of interacting with gay men. Maybe the percentage of married gay men will fall in Massachusetts now that California has both good weather and possible gay marriage as attributes. Which reminds me: there was an article about domestic gay couples in the New York Times Magazine a few weeks ago. One of the couples had been married for a while and engaged for a lot longer than that. The irony is, that half of that couple, about two years ago, became the first guy to ever give me a number in a bar without asking. Did anyone every write a book like "The Rules" for gay men? Ann pointed out to me the other day, that I now get to go through all the crap that everyone else got out of their system while in high school.
Of course, the mere idea of having to repeat high school again sends shivers down my spine. Thankfully, college was like a social and mental enema that prepared me for real life. I was thinking about my first time drinking the other day. I didn't drink while I was in high school, because I was questioning my sexuality deep in the back of my head, and knowing that alcohol lowered inhibitions, etc., I was terrified I would tell people things. Of course, anyone who knows me now, knows that when I drink, I become straighter that ever, and usually start kissing women. What does that say about all my repressions, ha? So, both sets of my grandparents came up for a big dinner, and my parents, being the wonderful people they are, allowed me to skip my party with my grandparents, to go out to the big social sleep over field party for my graduation. I was going to be one of the designated non-drinkers, but I really wanted to be with the whole class. I ended up having a wonderful time, and realized that I liked more people than I thought, and most people actually knew lots about me and seemed to like me back. My non-drinking pledge ended when my friend Heather, who was at the time dating my best friend, Bailey, showed up with a plastic Coke bottle filled with the brownish ichor, which was equal portions of the 6 fullest bottles in her father's liquor cabinet. I had many swigs of that, and a beer in a can, and that was enough to free me for the first time ever. I was like running around the field, spinning and falling in the grass, and I proposed to every single girl I found hot in my graduating class (thus both starting my drunken straight streak, and proving what a silly fool I am when I drink).
I didn't drink again until I got to college and became the drunken frat boy, lush that I am now. That night was filled with lots of great music and conversations and staying up all night, going home in the morning once the sun was up and sleeping the day away. Every time I hear Only the Good Die Young, I flash back to when Tovar played that song in the middle of the night to honor his father who had died untimely in a plane crash a year earlier. To this day, I still have such deep respect for him, despite the fact that I was a distant second Salutatorian to his valedictory position. My parents gave me a wonderful graduation gift that became me on my social journey that led me to being the introverted social butterfly I am today. Well, enough ramble for now, but I think now that summer has returned I'll start to write more again for y'all. |
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| Low Fidelity |
[Jan. 7th, 2008|01:39 am] |
Well, last night as I was trying to fall asleep, High Fidelity came on TV, and I hadn't seen it since opening weekend when it originally came out. I do very much like adaptations of of Nick Hornby books, if not for their brooding self-contemplative male leads. At least John Cusack reminded me that dating just sucks in general, regardless of gender preference. I had forgotten all the people who were in that movie. It was the first time I had ever been annoyed by Jack Black, and look where he is now (although I really did enjoy School of Rock a lot). It reminded me a lot of parts of Annie Hall when we got back through the relationships of the Woody Allen character (Alvy Singer) who happened to date a lot of famous people (including Carol Kane and Shelley Duvall). In High Fidelity, we learn that he has dated Lili Taylor! Oh, I first fell for her back when she was John Cusack's um, (what is the straight equivalent of a fag hag? Hmmmm ) girl friend in Say Anything. Then, he dated Catherine Zeta-Jones; I had forgotten she was in anything with him beside America's Sweethearts, which is kinda a cute film, as compared to the Serendipity schlockfest that John Cusack was in that same year. Somehow, he finds his way to Lisa Bonet, our little former Huxtable, who managed to find Lenny Kravitz in real-life, and Mickey Rourke (ew!!!) on screen. Also in little bitty parts were Tim Robbins (who really needs to do more comedic things) and Sara Gilbert (who I learned this week has a long-time female partner). I guess that's what happens when you got to Yale :) My last comment is that this movie was directed by Stephen Frears and produced by Alan Greenspan. Yes, he also directed the Queen but apparently that's not the same guy who is married to Andrea Mitchell and used to control all the money in the world.
Yesterday, the gang and I went to see Tim Burton's envisioning of Sweeney Todd. It was a great movie experience. From the guy who kept asking for tickets from the booth for "Todd Sweeney," to the picking up of milk on the way home, I had a wonderful time. I had already seen two productions of it: one at MIT in Kresge and one at Loyola of Chicago when my friend Andy got me tickets because I was in town and he was playing the Beadle. I had always enjoyed the darkness of the music and the plot, and Tim Burton wove this together so well, even with much levity throughout. The chemistry between Helena B-C and Johnny Depp was incredible whether it was meaning to be comic or just malevolent. She is the best example of nepotism gone right since making Bobby Kennedy Attorney General. It was a delightful surprise to see Alan Rickman returning to his pure evil role taking as the judge, and the every-creepy actor who plays Peter Pettigrew in the HP movies playing the Beadle. I have never been the biggest fan of Sondheim, but Sweeney along with West Side Story and Assassins have always had a place in my heart. The music is actually quite fun, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud as Mrs. Lovett sang The Worst Pies in London. Somehow, the spoken-word singing of Johnny Depp really worked for me, and was more powerful than some tenor blasting away at each word. Gosh, he's come a long way from 21 Jump Street and Nightmare on Elm Street Part n. |
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| Uncomfortably numb |
[Jan. 6th, 2008|01:18 pm] |
Hello, is there anybody in there? There is no pain, you are receding. What on Earth does that mean?
Well, lately I feel like I'm just going through the motions on this planet. With all the house work, mystery hunt planning, and school work I need to be doing, you think I could bury myself in all of that and focus. I feel numb to all the good things going on around me, but somehow I can still feel all those pinpricks of pain caused but all men I'm trying to avoid thinking about. One of them happened to be in Diesel today, but he's playing the let's-ignore-Chris-and-he'll-go-away-game. I want it not to hurt, but it hurts. I don't know why someone thinks you're an amazing person and a great friend potential, blah blah blah, and then they just stop talking to you. Someone really needs to find that allele for mature behavior and select for it. Maybe it only occurs on the X-chromosome; bah, I don't want to have to think about biology. Women seem to be mature, women seem to be able to communicate. Men less so, and gay men, well, clearly, they are just broken. Maybe I should start agreeing with Senator Inhofe and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad since they feel that their worlds are awesome and there are no gay people in it.
It is ironic. I spent many many years working on building up mechanisms to deal with rejection, and now I'm quite good with that. If someone is logically consistent, and isn't interested or becomes no longer interested, and explains that to me, c'est la vie! However, that's not how it happens anymore. The world has changed. Gay men have taken on the political stances of the pocket veto and the signing statement. Rather than telling you I won't hang out with you anymore, I'm going to block you on AIM or not reply to your emails anymore. In response to your hanging out with me all the time, I accept it, but only on the grounds that it is legal for me to torture you by ignoring the Geneva conventions and getting your hopes up about things while never actually giving you any of the things you thought you were getting when I said I liked you. Ugh, what a horrible thought: my dating life has the efficacy of the Democratic congress.
Well, at some level, I seem to be prescient. The other day I was writing about politics and Wilford Brimley, and somehow they met in the real world this week. Yes, John McCain, the bane of my existence, has found his own version of Mike Huckabee's Chuck Norris. Yes, McCain has started roaming around NH and campaigning with the one and only Wilford Brimley. I guess that serves two purposes. It really helps him with over 85 vote in NH, and there is not better way to make yourself feel young, than to walk around with a guy who looks more like the Cryptkeeper than you do. At least Romney won the Wyoming Caucus. Yes, there is something between Iowa and New Hampshire. Everyone needs to work really hard to make sure that the ever-evil McCain doesn't become the front runner. Move to NH and vote on Tuesday if you can :)
Well, I should get back to my work. Thankfully, since all the guys I hung out with this fall are pretty much ignoring me now, I should be able to focus and hang out with real friends. Wow, each one of them had a V in his name. And, so did He-who-shall-not-be-named, both of them actually. So, maybe I can meet some nice guys this year as long as I avoid all those Nevils, Ivans and Vaders. |
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| The Iowa Syndrome |
[Jan. 3rd, 2008|03:32 pm] |
Well, apparently, AMC occasionally shows movies that lots of Oscar nominations, and yesterday it was the China Syndrome. I have never seen the movie, and I had no idea who was in it, but within one minute of seeing everyman Jack Lemmon fret over water levels in a reactor with big-haired Jane Fonda (it was 1979) and a scarily facially hirsute Michael Douglas illegally taping the incident from a gallery. Apparently it was a good movie, but I've already seen Lemmon do his Oscar turn in another movie of that era, Save the Tiger, which aside from his acting, is completely unmemorable. I think the movie ended up being more on everyone's mind because Three Mile Island happened like a month after the movie came out. And on a final note, the curmudgeoniest of all actors was there sitting watching gauges in the plant: the uninspiring Wilford Brimley. He already made me stop buying Quacker Oats, and I think my disdain of Shannen Doherty comes from her proximity to him back on Our House.
Speaking of meltdowns, what happened to Mitt Romney? I was relying on him to be the least palatable putz for the GOP to nominate. I'd be ok settling for a Huckabee type who doesn't know anything about foreign affairs and didn't realize that he crossed picket lines to appear on Leno last night (I would have thought that the sickly, starving Jewish males holding up signs outside the studio would have been a big hint.). Actually, I think it is the Daily Show that when it won the Emmy for writing talked about how they were able to do it with only 80% of their writing staff being Jewish. Now Romney is in a statistical tie with Huckabee in Iowa, and even Fred Thompson cannot seem to stay awake long enough to not let McCain sneak up on him and steal third place. McCain hasn't even been campaigning there. He ran out of money and fired the majority of his campaign staff over the summer, and now he's rising up like some 71 year old zombie. This is not the politburo or the papacy; we liked to elect people we think will live though a term. Even Reagan was a spry 69 when he became president.
Now McCain is in a statistical tie with Romney to lead in NH! He wasn't even polling in the top 3 two weeks ago. So, clearly, every independent in NH needs to march over to the polls on Tuesday and vote for Romney to prevent McCain from getting the nomination. It isn't like there is any difference between the Democratic frontrunners anyway. McCain is just an archconservative old guy, who some people think of as a centrist falsely, who will really just continue 4 more years of what we have now with some possibilities of campaign finance reform and maybe less world-wide torturing. But that's about it. At least we can hope that his zero money will leave him stranded after the first two contests. Maybe Romney will with the Wyoming convention on Saturday and stave him off. So, someone better find a silver bullet or kill the original vampire soon, because zombie McCain is my greatest nightmare! |
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| Live Free or Cry Hard |
[Jan. 2nd, 2008|01:36 pm] |
Does any one else have difficulty telling the difference between Timothy Olyphant and Josh Duhamel? For some reason they are in the same cubby hole in my brain. Yes, one of them was the evil villain in Live Free or Die Hard, and the other is, well, let's just say his engagement to Fergie (of Kids Incorporated fame, not the one with Budgie the helicopter) will make more people know he exists. Clearly Josh is now the intended beneficiary of those famous humps, nay, lovely lady lumps. Check it out!
I of course wanted to see Live Free or Die Hard, because the movies in that series have always been fun and whimsically inane. Featuring lines from airport head Fred Thompson like "Stack 'em, pack 'em and rack 'em." Doesn't he just sound presidential? I'll get back to the other movies in a second, but this newest incarnation features the ever-dreamy, Justin Long. Since I've given up on men for the year, he seems like a perfectly good imaginary boyfriend. It'll be just like when I was writing my Ph.D. thesis and I just pretended that I was dating Matt Damon. Ironically, my fake dates with Matt were far better than any of the dates I've had in reality. I'm thinking that despite the fact I've been a Mac person since 1986, Justin Long is single-handedly putting Apple back on the map. None of this iPod and iPhone hype really matters, Justin is just media shy and doesn't want to take credit for saving the company against the evil PC.
Ah, the original Die Hard: it put Nakatomi Towers on the map, and gave Bonnie Bedelia a career. Villain rating: A+, who can beat Alan Rickman. He can do anything from Snape back to the Sheriff on Nottingham with his spoonly weaponry. Family Matters father and "star" Reginald Vel Johnson appears as the Twinkie-addicted cop helper, and deep down within the bowels of the building is John McClane's limo driver and former Head of the Class student (well, from the later seasons when it sucked), Devoreaux White. Overall, John kicks ass and sets the stage for the third film, but clearly, this brings us to the awesomest film of all, Die Hard 2 (Die Harder). Villain rating: A-. I personally like William Sadler, but that's more because I SO LOVED his work as the semi-evil/semi-good sheriff on Roswell. Gosh I miss that show and its two dreamy Aliens. Clearly, the universe is unfair in that the girl alien is now and Emmy winning actress on the Grey's anatomy schlock-fest (Katherine Heigl). But Jason Behr and Brendan Fehr were the epitome of talented screen eye candy, and they might have even been decent actors, but I wasn't paying attention. Also, you have to love John Amos as a sub-villain. Such range from being the berated husband of Esther Rolle on Good Times to the evil subversive military officer. This movie was one of the three videotapes that were in my fraternity my junior year when I lived there, so I probably have seen it about 75 times. The other tapes, Metropolitan and Driving Miss Daisy Crazy, weren't exactly my types of film. And if memory serves, I think a pre-Deep Space 9 Colm Meany played an ill-fated British Airways pilot who was the "example" of the might and power of the evil William Sadler. Thank you Senator Fred. If it weren't for your roles here, and in Feds and In The Line of Fire, I wouldn't be the man I am today.
Die Hard with a Vengeance. It sucked. I even like Jeremy Irons as an actor, but he just walked through this role. C-. Too much running around, too much "fake puzzling," and Sam Jackson was just wasted. Nuff said.
Live Free or Die Hard. My biggest problem with the movie is its title is stupid. It makes me feel like they are trying to steal my New Hampshire pride with "Live Free or Die," and if so, they should back off. Also, how am I supposed to alphabetize things. Movies in a series should be easy to sort. For example, Scream, Scream 2, Scream 3. Also reasonable, Matrix, Matrix Reloaded, Matrix Revolutions. Here, this movie will be all out of order on my shelf. Would Die Hard or Live Free have killed them? A little cutting and pasting and it is all fixed. And Kevin Smith playing a technonerd? Ok, it isn't much of a stretch but he should stick to movies where he is writing the dialog. But once again, in the end, Justin Long saves the world, with a little help from Bruce Willis and his Golden Wine Coolers (the were wet and they were dry, my my my my....). Ooh, I should go see if that commercial is on YouTube! |
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| Andy Hippy Nieuwejaar! |
[Jan. 1st, 2008|02:58 pm] |
Well, when I was in high school, there were three of us who worked together to make a very nice holiday sentiment who were all nerds who were systems managers for the VAX we had. I think it was a PDP 11/44 if that means anything to anyone; I can vouch for myself it no longer means anything. Andy Frades and Nils Nieuwejaar were both a year ahead of me, and they were of that liberal crunchy Unitarian Universalist ilk (which I am a big fan of). And since even then, people were trying to find me a life mate, thus was born the following holiday sentiment:
Marry Chris Morse Andy Hippy Nieuwejaar!!!
(Which worked because his last name sounded like "new yar.") This is of course ironic since New Years is my second least favorite holiday after the St. Valentines yearly debacle. I'm not really sure that any holiday that revolves around kissing someone you love is a good idea, because it either makes you miserable, or you're super happy and rubbing it in to all the people around you. 36 years and growing strong: I have avoided such baleful bussing. Though, still, deep down inside some inner recess of my head, I'm sure that one year a perfect When Harry Met Sally moment will come true, and one of the asinine idiots of my past will come to his senses and realize the errors of his ways.
I figured the first of the year would be a nice time to return to my rambling, plus maybe I'll recount more of my trials and travails as I begin my misandrist 2008 (well, at least for the non-breeders). Since every single thing that made me upset or sad in 2008 had something to do with some guy, I think removing them for 2008 will be a nice control experiment.
So, right now, I'm trying to focus on work, which is actually going well for a change. Of course, in the back of my head, visions of sugar plums and ghetto Legend of Zelda on Wii are dancing in my head. I've already died like 60 times since I didn't try to go in order and I went for monsters way beyond my level too soon, but hey, it makes me feel better. The first time I played this back in high school, my sister did most of the fighting and I was the anal-retentive mapper and strategist.
Because of the writers strike, I've been forced to explore things I missed along the way. This week's new discovery is the modern Doctor Who, introduced to me by one of those shadows of 2007. I've watched the first season (13 episodes since I guess that's how BBC Wales rolls). It is just nice to know that people can still make shows that feel cheesy and low-budget in the 21st century. |
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| 1+3+5+7+9+11 |
[Sep. 14th, 2007|11:02 am] |
Thirty-six. What does it mean? My languages are limited but maybe it sounds better as treinta y seis or trent six. Nope, not really. It is a perfect square but we've been there. It is the year of the Summer Olympics in Berlin where Jesse (né J.C.) Owens embarrassed Hitler's racist agenda. It is Krypton's atomic number, and it isn't exactly like a noble gas gets my heart-a-pumpin'. At least I won't hit another noble gas until I'm 54.
Normally birthday's don't make me contemplative. As a matter of fact, as an attention whore, it is the ideal for the stroking of my ego. Sure sure, I'm young, and I certainly don't look anywhere near my age. By this point, my parents already had a 12 and a 6 year old, and were no longer having kids. Galois was long dead, as was Jeanne d'Arc. Long have I passed the musical benchmark of 27 that Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and Kurt Cobain reached (I guess those perfect cubes are a little rougher on the soul).
I think I need to go back to reporting my age in hexadecimal. If I were 24, I'd certainly be rejected a lot less by guys, that's for sure. I'm trying to think of the number of people I know who are 36 or older and single, and I can fill one hand but not the other. However, if you amend the question to how many people do I know who are 36 and older, and have never been in a relationship of any type, the number drops to just one: me.
So, what is so different about me? Some of my friends say I try too hard, some say I don't try hard enough, some say that deep down within my psyche I want to be alone and I self-sabotage (Ah great Beastie Boys video via Spike Jonze). And that's where I begin to get confused, I have a lot of friends. I have more friends than anyone else I know, from high-level friends down to casual acquaintances. So, if friendship is the basis of everything (so I posit), why do people seek me out for friendship, and build strong ones with me, but no one has yet wanted to date me. 24 people commented about my birthday on Facebook, 7 people called, 11 people IMed me directly, and lots of people wanted to do stuff, but I was reluctant. So, somethings are clearly going right, and other things are clearly not. As my friends are my greatest asset in life, I cannot complain, but it would be nice to know what it is like to be loved in that non-platonic way. Or for that matter, I am 36 years old (see look, it is getting easier to say each time), and I've never been anywhere close to being in love.
Alright, it is time to get back to my lecture notes today. I get to teach SN2 reactions, and there's nothing like making an organic chemistry class giggle when you introduce them to the notion of the "backside attack" by the nucleophile. |
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| Let your iTunes do the walking... |
[Sep. 13th, 2007|02:01 pm] |
I think I'm just going to comment on how I'm feeling about today, though the songs popping into my head, and the pop culture referencing flying through my head. Right now, Mama Cass is serenading me, and reminding me that the weather here suck (All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey); however, none of that happened until most of my furniture that isn't waterproof was left uncovered on my front porch by some contractors.
I started off today singing Leslie Gore's biggest hit in the shower (but of course, not my own shower, which I haven't used in over a week, not having showered in a least three locations that are not my home). And by the way, I'm not talking about the fact that it could be Judy's turn to cry, not that I'm having a party today, that's for sure. Ah, now the Mountain Goats, thanks to a wonderful Debbie mix, CD, telling me about the gap one feels after a relationship has gone in Woke Up New. See, look there's something to be thankful about! You cannot know the pain and loss of being in a relationship after having never been in one for 36 years.
Yep, I said it. I turn 36 today. My first perfect square in 2n+1 years (to be followed by another in another 2n+1 years). As two of my former acquaintance have mentioned today, I am now in my late 30's (I wish my sister much joy in her life without a brother now). Ok, now the next song on my iTunes is the Doors with The End. Wow, I think my iTunes randomizer is trying to tell me something. This song always makes me think of Hell Night in my fraternity because this song blasts out of every speaker before the pledges enter the house to ceremonially become brothers. That was such a fun night actually, nothing bad happens at all, it is really just a test of faith, just like the third trial for Indy in the Last Crusade.
Hmm... the Boxer... technically S+G, but I saw Paul Simon perform it solo years ago when I went to see him in Boston with my former student Brian. Like all the other music that seems to be playing today (possibly assisted by my skipping anything lilting or uppy), this has a nice dour tone with horns in the background.
Ah the Postal Service... such a great band/side project. I've been listening to more Death Cab lately too, and that's quite fun too. Emotional sentiment and good production value, without the emo-ness of Snow Patrol or Panic. This is Such Great Heights, which is on like 3 or 4 TV ad campaigns, but it makes me think of when I first bought their album, right after Diesel started playing it Daily in its entirety. I was totally into this guy Rob that my friend Joe set me up with from UMass. Brooding and brilliant, he uttered one of my favorite lines about me when I told him what I was listening to: "Isn't that music a little young for you?"
Ah the Go-go's, Vacation. Ironically, that is something I didn't get to do this summer, as summer school sucked my life away, and all I got was a few stressful 3-4 day weekend getaways while bringing work with me. I used to love dancing to the Go-Gos at Manray back when it was in Central Square still. Plus, Jane Wiedlin, played both the singing telegram girl in Clue and the silent Joan of Arc in Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure.
Diana Ross singing the theme from Mahogany. When I was a little kid, I always used to think that this song would be playing behind the slideshow of scenes from my life. I have no idea why, but it always seems to be right for that, just the right tempo to imagine photos fading into another. It always makes me feel wistful of those early years when ignorance of how the world actually works actually leaves a child feeling blissful. In retrospect, maybe when we used to play dodgeball (or variants) in my 4th grade classroom, I shouldn't have averred that I hated the guys in my class, and I always played on the girls' side. Come to think of it, what kind of teachers pits boys against girls? Maybe I was just striking a blow against segregation by crossing the line or sitting in the front of the Dodgeball bus. And ironically today, I still seem to not like any of the boys.
Sloop John B, Beach Boys: See, look here's a song with a perky tempo sung by a man who has no memories of his life at all. Hmmm... maybe that's not such a bad deal after all. Dog Eat Dog from Les Miserables, oh the Master of the House really is so evil. I can still remember when Jenn played that tape for me Freshman Fall at Dartmouth, and I began weeping when Fantine sang her final song to Cosette via Valjean. I didn't even know what was happening, and still it brought me to tears. Drive, the Cars. The one hit Cars song that didn't feature Mr' O'Casek's voice, with the simple video that I already liked. Of course, it is about misery in relationships.
Blondie, Rapture. Some experts consider this the first rap song, because of its voice-over tempo-change interlude. Blah, I have nothing to ramble about for this song. I think I'll return to pretending to write an Organic Chemistry exam. |
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| Visualize Frozen Peas |
[Aug. 22nd, 2006|02:19 pm] |
Well, I went into the freezer today to find some frozen vegetables to ice my strained thigh muscles. And since there was nothing there of that sort, I had to use an individually wrapped chicken breast. I must admit, at no point in my life, if you had told me I'd be lying on my bed with a brest clenched under my thigh would I have believed you.
Growing up as a kid, we had the "cornish game hen" which was around for at least until I went to HS (meaning it moved up from CT to NH in a cooler). It was the perfect size for a cold pack, and you just wrapped it in a towel for tempered thermal contact. I should mention to Anna that that piece of chicken isn't really meant for eating now.
So you ask, Chris, why are you still icing your leg? Didn't you hurt it last week and it was getting better? Well, it was but then you cannot forget to account for my ability to be a klutz. So, at Axis last night, while standing on the tile dance floor in my Reef Flip-flops (with little remaining tread), I moved my weakened leg onto a wet spot, and that leg decided to continue on that path, all the way to the floor. My body decided to follow it but my right leg wanted to try another path. So, I fell right to the floor, not breaking my fall because I was protecting my T+T, which then spashed all over me upon crashing. Thankfully, I was able to save all the ice, because my butt sure hurt after that.
I couldn't get myself up, but Ken had befriended 3 French Canadians who helped me up, and the cute one with the white cap went on the search for my sandal, which somehow ended up almost 10 feet from where I was. So for the first time, I was the center of all attention in the club. Unfortunately since standing was problematic for a bit, I had trouble seeing some of the most intense action in the drag queen jello wrestling matches. We shall see how this Monday night clubbing goes in two weeks when Tuesday morning classes start. |
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| If James Joyce Listened to Streaming Radio.... |
[Aug. 19th, 2006|02:08 pm] |
Ah, I love streaming radio. Top 40 hits sprinkled with gems, like Push It, which came out when I was in High School. I can still remember hearing it for the first time on my shower radio getting ready for school. Though I've never really understood why a trio would go by Salt-N-Pepa. Does DJ Spinderella feel left out? Did Salt-N-Pepa-N-Tabasco Sauce just not make the cut? Well group names really never make sense. Ben Fold 5 didn't have five members, though 5ive did. And Primitive Radio Gods was just one person.
Ooh, Panic! At the Disco is playing now. I can hear the angst dripping from each mumbled syllable. I like the use of punctuation in things, especially in the middle. We need to do that more. Let's see what else falls in that realm M*A*S*H, *NSync, Them!, and Vega$. Actually this reminds me that while Ken and I were getting pre-lubricated at Eastern Standard before going to Axis last week, we tried to name all the Backstreet Boys and *NSync members. I'm proud to say we could only come up with 8 of the 10 names, and we weren't sure which ones were in which group. However, I can still rattle off Danny-Donnie-Joe-John-Jordan like there's no tomorrow, but they are the original boyband.
Now, when two guys in their mid-30's are discussing cheesy recent songs, you don't expect this to happen. I tell Erik that I saw the video for Paris Hilton's 'song,' and it was kinda catchy. He then proceeds to actually sing it to me, and blames satellite radio. Apparently I learned this week, that 35 is the age where you're supposed to stop keeping current with the music trends and roll over and die. Ooh, and speaking of random things popping into my head, while watching VH1 the other day, they had Hanson on commenting on their old hits and new things, and two of them have turned out to be smoking hotties, and one of them apparently is morphing into a Hanson sister.
Ok, now we have the new Justin Timberlake song. Sexyback: whatever the hell that means. I saw the video, which is about the only evidence that I have that shows that the weird modified and feminized sounds are really coming out of his mouth. With meaningful lyrics like "I'll let you whip me if I misbehave" and "Get your sexy on," I am sure this is destined to be a hit, and I'm going to be forced to hear it in clubs. It doesn't even need to be remixed because it already sounds like a mindless clubba song.
Whoa! There is a song on now which I cannot recognize, that totally just was using the lyrics of a Waitresses song (well, with changing the gender). As we all know, the Waitresses had three hits (and the lead singer passed away sadly at an early age because of breast cancer), The Christmas Wrapping Song, I Know What Boys Like, and the Square Pegs theme song. Where would the world be without that Jami Gertz vehicle! To think that the Lost Boys might not have existed without her budding career brings a tear to my eye. Who cannot like a movie with both Coreys ("Hi, this is the Corey hotline"), two-time Oscar winner Diane Wiest and a pre-24 Kiefer.
Ok. Back to my syllabi. |
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| Rural Slickers |
[Aug. 18th, 2006|05:41 pm] |
Well, another great comic actor has passed on, in the untimely death of Bruno Kirby. I remember seeing him back in high school as the annoying pissant on the same station as Adrian Kronauer in Good Morning, Vietnam. He was so good as that smarmy out-of-touch Robin Williams wannabe. I always have had a place in my heart for City Slickers (and even its semi-bad sequel). It has Jack Pallance as a funny old-school westerner, and a lot of other cute little bit people including Yeardley Smith as a bagger that Daniel Stern had an affair with. Probably, the greatest double date scene of all times is when he and Carrie Fisher are trying to be set up with Harry and Sally, and they end up being perfect for each other. Plus, that diatribe by Billy Crystal over the "wagon wheel table" is priceless.
I went up to NH this week to waterski for the first time in a long time. I used to love doing it, and being up on Lake Sunapee was the perfect opportunity. There were unfortunately two unmatched skis in the boat, and I knew the left one was pretty loose and I rationalized that it was going to be ok. So, just as I was getting up on the skis, my leg and ski decided to go in different directions, so I let go of the rope. I had a dog of a time getting the ski back on because my leg felt bad, but I eventually did, two more times, and both times once I started getting up, I couldn't hold on. Once I tried to reenter the boat, I realized the problem was that I couldn't use my left leg at all, and putting any pressure on it caused death-curdling pain. I barely got back into the boat, and I realized that I twisted and sprained my groin on the first time, and since then I cannot put any pressure on it. Two days later, I can mostly walk now but very very slowly. Stairs suck, and unless I drop something worth more than 20 dollars, it isn't worth the pain to try to bend over and pick it up.
So, now I have no choice but to do lots of work, but hopefully, I'll be able to walk well again by Sunday so I can go to the Sox game. |
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| Crazy like a Foxx |
[Aug. 14th, 2006|12:41 pm] |
Well, I guess it is time to pay my farewell to Jack Warden. How did that pop back into my mind? Well, right now Diesel is playing some hip hop song that is sampling the Sanford and Son theme, which of course made me thing of ol' Redd Foxx himself (I'm comin' 'Lizabeth....). Redd Foxx was even roommates with an up-and-coming Malcolm X (ne Little) back in the day. Somehow both of them later had a fascination with the letter X. This civil rights diatribe is brought to you by the number 7 and the letter X.
Come to think of it, maybe I already rambled about Jack Warden. Other than his fine work on Crazy like a Fox (the father son detective series), most of his other things that stick out in my mind are sports related. He took over the Matthau role as the coach in the TV version of Bad News Bears and he played the ghost-believing former coach of Warren Beatty's character in Heaven Can Wait. This is sounding really familiar to me. Maybe it has just been written in my head for a while, or I'm just becoming senile. Soon, I'll be turning Bromine. What a nasty element!
Last night as I was trying to fall asleep, My Fellow Americans came on. I had only seen the ending to it before, and somehow, it is just a cute little movie with a fun cast. With Jack Lemmon and James Garner playing former ex-presidents, their comic banter is nearly as good as Lemmon-Matthau. Ironically, Jack Lemmon, the last of the great every-man actors, plays the heartless GOP president, and Garner, the more conservative seeming, former Maverick, plays the bleeding heart democrat. The movie is riddled with other famous actors: Dan Akroyd as the corrupt president, John Heard as his dim-witted VP, Bradley Whitford as the Chief of Staff (what is he doing in a presidential entertainment), etc. Wilford Brimley is in it and doesn't nearly annoy me as he did in Our House (the first vehicle for the oft-fired Shannen Doherty) or Quaker Oats commercials. Lauren Bacall has a little cameo, and Esther Rolle as a pastry chef in what was probably one of her last roles.
Somehow, I love it when a rag-tag bunch of Oscar winners and nominees get together in a cute feel-good cheesefest. Ooh, now they are playing Jane's Addiction. I remember once my sophomore year, we were in Richardson hall drunk, and we were making a new answering machine message for Tim, Mike and Pete featuring them running away from the rabid hounds in Been Caught Stealing. I think that's a little more hip that my Master of the House is not home message that Jenn made for me that year. And apparently, tonight will be the return of Axis, but with no Allies. Speaking of that, I miss Kate and Allie. Why don't they rerun that on Nick at Nite or TV Land. That would make me quite happy. Enough for now. |
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| Dancing queen |
[Aug. 8th, 2006|04:24 am] |
Picture this: Boston 2006. Chris can name the madonna song, and for no known reason this Kelly Clarkson song. Also, he gets the Deborah Cox song after a clue, and the Mariah Carey song (that bitch took my Derek from me) on a second guess, to maintain my gay status. I spend the cab ride home from the club smiling for a multitude of reasons. I was even happy enough to sing along to the Bad Day tripe from Daniel Powter but that might have been the Tanqueray. And then when In the Air Tonight Came on, the cab driver secured a good tip.
In the club, a miracle took place. Someone talked to me for the first time, um yeah, that would be ever. Sure he was talking to everyone, but I'm not here to complain. I would have kissed him if I had the balls and my breath didn't smell like I had had 10 garlic-based tapas at Dali an hour before. Not only did a stranger talk to me, but the people hitting on my friend also talked to me. It was like the twilight zone, only filled with Tiddly Winks - Nixon's Gordon (which no one solved). Oh, and on that note, Happy Birthday Trip.
Versions of heaven and the after life: All you can eat food with Rip Torn, Randy Newman narrating tasty apples, the late Jack Warden doubting your football talents, ditto, and of course Axis on Monday. And by the way, did anyone else notice that Axis is Six A backwards? |
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| Grrrr... |
[Aug. 1st, 2006|08:08 pm] |
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Does anyone know how to make a double crostic on a Mac? I would love a program or a link to one. I have made it by hand, and now I need to "type set" it. Any help would be appreciated. |
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| Chris' Addiction |
[Jul. 21st, 2006|04:08 pm] |
Chris says: "I'm done with Veronica Mars." I'm gonna kick [this DVD on TV habit] tomorrow.
Well, once I started it I had to finish it. It only took a day and a half. Now, I cannot watch it again until season 2 comes out on August 22nd. The show is like a cross between Buffy, Twin Peaks and the O.C. It has teen angst, witty writing, great characters, a strong female lead, eerie mysterious dream sequences, and of course dreamy hot guys. And of course, I fall for the bad boy.
Overall, this is the most fun I've had watching an hour dramatic series that doesn't rhyme with venty whore for a long time. The female lead in Kristen Bell makes me want to requestion my sexual orientation, but thankfully all the men at Neptune High distract me from her wiles. It is so fun to see Enrico Colantino doing something where he has a deep and enduring character. I saw him on Just Shoot Me as the womanizing (and not credible) photographer and he was cute at the head alien in Galaxy Quest, but he's a solid actor here as veronica's father.
The cast also includes Kyle Secor (who I loved on Homicide) and real life couple Harry Hamlin and Lisa Rinna (with what looks like massive collagen implants). There were even fun cameos by Paris Hilton (who was not nearly as good as her own performance as a smart version of herself on the O.C.) and Allyson Hannigan (who actually has evolved into one of my favorite actresses, partially from her recent work as Lily on How I Met Your Mother).
So now, I just need to avoid all other TV on DVD's in the house, so I can do a chunk of work before I head to San Antonio next week. So, we'll keep all those Lost and Scrubs episodes on the back burner. I'm over half way done reading Invisible Man and Ellison has not yet reveals this superpower to the main character even though I'm half way done reading it. I need to read the Tipping Point before school starts too. Personally, I just want to reread Harry Potter 6 now, since I've read all the others at least twice now.
Anything else to report? Not really. Last night's episode of the World Series of Pop Culture revealed two more key things to me. One is that the trivia is weighted very heavily to the last 10-15 years, and I am not sure that's so fair, as how else can I used my encyclopedic knowledge of All in the Family and Gidget films? Also, there seems to be little rhyme nor reason in the difficulty of the questions. They clearly want it to be, two easy, two medium, and two hard questions. Just as often as I get a hard one wrong, I didn't know an easy one. And with 6 question rounds for two people, it is very easy to get screwed by the ordering of the questions. There have been several sets of questions now, where one of the first two questions was the only one I didn't know in a set. And based on the amount of rap questions they ask, it seems imperative to have someone who knows that on your team, but the way they do the head to head stuff, they may not even be playing at that point.
One other thing that I noticed is that people have a huge gender bias in their knowledge (like the guy who couldn't name any movie with Meryl Streep in it). I think all of the truly strongest teams are mixed gender. Except for that team of the 22 year olds who were just the hottest team, and they GOT spanked in the first round. Ok, that's enough rambling for now. Maybe I'll return to talk about recent songs I have downloaded (other than the Veronica Mars theme by the Dandy Warhols). |
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| Gridlock |
[Jul. 19th, 2006|04:33 am] |
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Oh wow! I just did the worst 21 x 21 crossword ever. It is in a Simon and Schuster book edited by Eugene Maleska. It was by Louis Baron. Before I decided to use a dictionary, I had about 3/4 of the grid filled in with holes everywhere. In the end, with the web, my dictionaries, and all, I still got a letter wrong in the end, because I had two awful things crossing, and the words in the clues I couldn't even find. There were 32 words in the grid I had never seen before, and probably another 20 obscure things that were at least familiar. The clues were terrible, vague, and contained another 20 words I had never seen. The theme was horrible and unparallel. It was 'common' phrases with words swapped, except one of them just rearranged all the words randomly, and everyone knows the phrase "The Corn is Green" which became "The Green is Corn" clued as "line from an Irish cynic?" (and of course "i'm irish" is a partial quote entry elsewhere in the grid. What qualifications did you use to have to have to be a crossword editor? "Publishing company seeks primate, with the ability to breathe, alphabetize and color in black squares for crossword puzzle editing. Those candidates who own their own pencils will be given special consideration." |
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