10.28.2004

A Wedding and a Bracelet

Myspace is kicked in the junk. Apparently, you have to be a member to post comments. What the fuck is that about?

Still, it gives me something to do. I have a morning check-in with all these people! And they're speaking out on issues that are important to me. On the recent journey to Niagara Falls, I was hesitant to broach the subject of the Livestrong bracelet. I felt like a bad person for hating them, but I do, and it's good to know I'm not the only one who is wondering about these things. Ultimately I agreed with the point that Livestrong is an effective fundraiser, because people who might not normally donate will do so in order to get this ugly bracelet. After a while, those donations in small increments add up, and money goes to cancer research. But what doesn't add up is that after the marketing tactic worked and you were left with this ugly-ass bracelet, why did you choose to wear it? We can eliminate aesthetics as a motive; it's yellow. This leaves people who are wearing the bracelet in honor or memory of some significant person's battle with cancer, people who are wearing it to show everyone else in the universe that they gave money to cancer, and those wearing it because they saw a bunch of other people wearing an ugly-ass bracelet and didn't want to feel left out. I fear the latter two reasons are the predominant drivers of current behavior. Livestrong? More like livewrong!

This is in no way an endorsement of the Liveweak bracelet.

In other news, I went home to New Jersey for the wedding of Bridget and Norman. It was the first Friend Wedding, so it was a big deal. Bridget's dress was stunning. I was additionally impressed by the music at the ceremony and the dessert extravaganza at the reception. Cristine, her boy Mike, Andrea, and I had a fun time at the shot machine to avoid tipping the bartenders. There was also a reunion of beautiful maids and staunch, true men at the Dublin Pub: in addition to the aformentioned Cristine, Dani came up from LBI, Samantha appeared, and Erin rang like a bell through the night. Add to this core Richard, Kurt, Jay, and Ken, a collection of former schoolmates, theatre/music buddies, friends, j.o. fantasies...basically people that I enjoy running into. This set the stage for a typical NJ evening. 1)In an effort to prolong the outing, Erin, Dani, and I went to Late Night at Buck's. 2)Richard was not dealt a hand. 3)I again found myself having serious conversations outside of Kurt's house because when my friends and I have been drinking, any protective bubble--thin though it may be--that we use to shield the rest of civilization from our affairs is shot to hell. 4) A delicious cupcake was not fucking eaten. 5) We watched an entire episode of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air to settle an argument over whether Will calls his aunt "Ont Viv" or "Ant Viv." 6) Will did not refer to his aunt during the entire episode viewed. 7) Prior to passing out in the Peach Room at 22 Emerson, a pair of beautiful blue boobs was discovered.

New Jersey: Not Just for kicking yourself in the ass anymore.

I will try to use the words whippersnapper and rogue more frequently. Rogue only in a flirtatious sense, as in, "You rogue!" (Maybe an outgrowth of "Oh, Rob Lowe!")

10.09.2004

Summer in Review

Argentina was fantastico (Come home, Brooke! Raina and I have a project).

Julie bought me a shirt because she thought I would hate it. This is one of several reasons why I love Julie.

Baltimore was fun. The play was a bit ridiculous, but most of the actors,including Bob, were good. The roommates are good people, and I'm inspired by B303 Beat to write a newsletter for my apartment.

"Or was Sue simply so perverse that she willfully gave herself and him pain for the odd and mournful luxury of practising long-suffering in her own person, and of being touched with tender pity for him at having made him practise it?...Possibly she would go on inflicting such pains again and again, and grieving for the sufferer again and again, in all her colossal inconsistency." --Thomas Hardy

Sue Bridehead, fucking bitch. 'Nice to meet you, let's have a drink sometime. I recommend Jude the Obscure. It does for marriage what Requiem for a Dream does for drugs.

Turn-on of the season in musical form: Franz Ferdinand.

Turn-on of the season in musical form, honorable mention: Dvorak's Ninth.

Turn-on of the season in human form: the Misanthrope, a.k.a. the Avid Outdoorsman.

Turn-on of the season in human form, honorable mention: Isabelle Huppert

Place to form incredible friendships of the season: Brandy's Piano Bar.

Most invalid claim of the season: "Tastes just like tiramisu!"

Gayest thing you'll do all season: iron whilst singing along to The Mikado.

Speaking of Ms. Huppert, the Nobel Prize in literature was awarded to the author of the book on which La Pianiste is based. I've half a mind to read the book. NPR was calling it "semiautobiographical." That disturbs me.

Ladies and gentlemen, I did it. I sang "The Wrong Way" at karaoke. And thus another door closes. But behind that door is another door. And then you open it, and there's another door. God bless WPHS.

I'm going to work on coherence. It's a life skill.