| 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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