9.29.2006
9.24.2006
dogs think i'm awesome
i was riding home after work. it was a beautiful evening in boston, cool and windy; the whole city smelled like the ocean. i like riding at night, as long as i have my lights on so i don't have to fear for my life around the worst drivers in america. on a night like tonight, i just feel bad for the poor suckers in their cars. with good music on the 'pod and the wind in my face, it's the only way to get around.
anyway, i was about halfway over the charles, with all of cambridge spread about in front of me, and a car pulls up alongside me. we're going exactly the same speed, and i find myself face to face with a big brown dog who has his head stuck out the window about 2 feet away. he's got a big dog grin on his big dog face and he looks at me and i look at him. yeah, i think we shared a moment, i'm not ashamed to admit it. he knew what was up.
last weekend, completely randomly, we ended up in the nyc dog fair in madison sq. park. they had a booth for just about every breed and there were maybe 200 people and 400 dogs of all sizes roaming around the park. it was pretty damn awesome. i'm not sure what brought on this whole pet love-in, maybe the long distance relationship thing is making me lonely, but someday pretty soon (when i sell my first novel, duh) i'm gonna get a dog. i grew up with cats, and my sister has cats, and my roommate has cats, but good goddamn, am i ever sick of cats. can you picture what a cat fair would be like? crazy people and snobby cats looking at each other across the park. plus hairballs everywhere. fucking cats.
anyway, i was about halfway over the charles, with all of cambridge spread about in front of me, and a car pulls up alongside me. we're going exactly the same speed, and i find myself face to face with a big brown dog who has his head stuck out the window about 2 feet away. he's got a big dog grin on his big dog face and he looks at me and i look at him. yeah, i think we shared a moment, i'm not ashamed to admit it. he knew what was up.
last weekend, completely randomly, we ended up in the nyc dog fair in madison sq. park. they had a booth for just about every breed and there were maybe 200 people and 400 dogs of all sizes roaming around the park. it was pretty damn awesome. i'm not sure what brought on this whole pet love-in, maybe the long distance relationship thing is making me lonely, but someday pretty soon (when i sell my first novel, duh) i'm gonna get a dog. i grew up with cats, and my sister has cats, and my roommate has cats, but good goddamn, am i ever sick of cats. can you picture what a cat fair would be like? crazy people and snobby cats looking at each other across the park. plus hairballs everywhere. fucking cats.
9.21.2006
my semi-annual* report on election results
yes, the nights are getting cooler and the leaves are starting to change colors. pumpkins and squash are everywhere you look. as of today, it's officially my favorite season! and politicians across this great nation are amping up the rhetoric, making outlandish claims of competence and professionalism, and calling each other dirty words (hack! ideologue! liberal!) in an effort to transform themselves into the lesser of two/three/six evils.
sadly, even i get a little cynical about elections these days. especially primaries. i tried to vote on tuesday, to make sure my boy deval got the nomination for governor. the emphasis there was on tried, by the way. i went back to my old address in somerville to vote--technically illegal, as i'm a resident of cambridge now, but whatever--only to find out that the somerville elections people had me listed as an inactive voter at my prior address (which was also in somerville, but in another ward). so i asked the nice staff lady if i could just go over there and vote. she said that because i was inactive, in order to vote, i had to sign an affadavit saying that i was who i said i was and that i lived where they said i lived. wouldn't that be (even more) illegal (than what i'm doing now)? i asked. yes, she answered, way more fucking illegal. and the penalty for perjuring myself in such a way is like jail time and possible sexual trespassing. now, i'm pretty sure i can take fisty mcrapesalot in a fight, as i routinely kick the crap out of shaolin monks possessed by demons with my kung fu on the way to work. nevertheless, i didn't want to bike across town because i had homework to do and i wanted a muffin pretty badly. i'll just make sure to reregister for the general, i told her with a steely glint in my eye. i think she got the message.
anyway, voting is harder than it should be. and that's not even counting having to fight my way through the horde of republicans keeping good democrats like me away from the polls. if i didn't have the ninja skills to blend into the shadows they might have stopped me with their burning effigies and 'liberalism killed jesus' signs.
and speaking of republicans being batshit crazy...
the reactionary, torture-loving house passed a new--and wicked unconstitutional--law saying that people will need to present valid photo ids in order to vote in 08. this is to cut down on voter fraud, so that people can't claim to be other people when they vote. this is a stupid law because nobody even does that shit, and if they did, simply having to show id probably wouldn't stop them, just like it hasn't stopped billions of college kids from buying beer despite being 18. also, it's to stop illegal aliens from enacting their master plan of voting in politicians who will approve their communist amnesty idea and make them legal. this is also stupid, as most illegal aliens are goddamned terrified of being found out and that plan i just made up might as well have been drafted by pixies riding on a unicorn. it's pure fantasy, baby.
no, what this stupid law is all about is making sure that the poor and elderly--who are less likely to own cars and thus driver's licenses, and are mostly democratic voters, coincidentally--have a harder time voting. by the way, it's also unconstitutional. and stupid.
* whenever i the hell feel like it
sadly, even i get a little cynical about elections these days. especially primaries. i tried to vote on tuesday, to make sure my boy deval got the nomination for governor. the emphasis there was on tried, by the way. i went back to my old address in somerville to vote--technically illegal, as i'm a resident of cambridge now, but whatever--only to find out that the somerville elections people had me listed as an inactive voter at my prior address (which was also in somerville, but in another ward). so i asked the nice staff lady if i could just go over there and vote. she said that because i was inactive, in order to vote, i had to sign an affadavit saying that i was who i said i was and that i lived where they said i lived. wouldn't that be (even more) illegal (than what i'm doing now)? i asked. yes, she answered, way more fucking illegal. and the penalty for perjuring myself in such a way is like jail time and possible sexual trespassing. now, i'm pretty sure i can take fisty mcrapesalot in a fight, as i routinely kick the crap out of shaolin monks possessed by demons with my kung fu on the way to work. nevertheless, i didn't want to bike across town because i had homework to do and i wanted a muffin pretty badly. i'll just make sure to reregister for the general, i told her with a steely glint in my eye. i think she got the message.
anyway, voting is harder than it should be. and that's not even counting having to fight my way through the horde of republicans keeping good democrats like me away from the polls. if i didn't have the ninja skills to blend into the shadows they might have stopped me with their burning effigies and 'liberalism killed jesus' signs.
and speaking of republicans being batshit crazy...
the reactionary, torture-loving house passed a new--and wicked unconstitutional--law saying that people will need to present valid photo ids in order to vote in 08. this is to cut down on voter fraud, so that people can't claim to be other people when they vote. this is a stupid law because nobody even does that shit, and if they did, simply having to show id probably wouldn't stop them, just like it hasn't stopped billions of college kids from buying beer despite being 18. also, it's to stop illegal aliens from enacting their master plan of voting in politicians who will approve their communist amnesty idea and make them legal. this is also stupid, as most illegal aliens are goddamned terrified of being found out and that plan i just made up might as well have been drafted by pixies riding on a unicorn. it's pure fantasy, baby.
no, what this stupid law is all about is making sure that the poor and elderly--who are less likely to own cars and thus driver's licenses, and are mostly democratic voters, coincidentally--have a harder time voting. by the way, it's also unconstitutional. and stupid.
* whenever i the hell feel like it
9.11.2006
a long-ass time
it's good to be back, albeit temporarily. the local cable internets monopoly has me by the short and curlies and i'll be sans connecion until next monday. well, free internet is what i'm paying school for, i suppose. that, and the privilege of getting gouged for textbooks. what a racket.
today is september 11, which means two things to me. first, happy 30th anniversary mom and dad! second, it's been five years since that day, and i'm sure everybody in america is dreading the onslaught of evocation that anniversaries ending in '5' seem to bring about. what's so damn special about half a decade? are thoughts of the world trade center and the pentagon more poignant in 2006 than they were in 2005? highly dubious. no, the cynic in me says that five years is just long enough to pretend we won't reduce the earth-shattering events of that day to petty attempts at making money. sorry united 93, world trade center, and the flight that fought back, you guys almost made it. instead you could only wait four and a half years. that's just crass.
over the summer, i took a tour of the pentagon and the highlight, by far--not counting the ground zero hot dog stand*--was their memorial for 9/11. built into the section that was actually hit by flight 77, it houses a memorial with inscriptions of the names of everybody killed in the impact, including the names of the terrorists. that fact jarred me when i first heard it, and not only because it seemed out of character for a bush-led administration. it jarred me because i found humanization when i expected villification. i say this not as an excuse for the actions of the terrorists, but as a reminder of the fact that they are human and shouldn't be demonized. it's too easy to say they're just fucking evil and leave it at that. and while i find jihadic eradication of the west to be goddamned terrifying, i think that righteous eradication of the east is just as hideously stupid of an idea.
i went back and read the blog entry i wrote for september 13th, 2001. (i had a blog back then, and it was just as much of a self-indulgent screed as this one is. some things never change) besides the obnoxious $.25 vocab words--"zeitgeist"!--and tragicomic poetry--"gaping whole"--i think i made a good point about community. i've never really felt like a part of community simply because of where i live, and i think that's a distinctly american feeling. instead, the times i've felt most like a member of a community is when i'm with my friends--a community i helped to bring together and in which i play an important part. i don't know if that kind of feeling is possible in wider american society. the ability to cross social barriers like class, race, and ideology--which should have been stronger after 9/11!--seems to have left us completely. on the other hand, maybe i just isolate myself with semi-rich white urbanites possessed of an ironical worldview because i'm a big sissy mary on the inside. in any case, here's my old post, if you're interested.
i'll talk about school, west elm, moving, the wedding, and maybe football, politics, and how much i hate marmaduke in a little bit.
today is september 11, which means two things to me. first, happy 30th anniversary mom and dad! second, it's been five years since that day, and i'm sure everybody in america is dreading the onslaught of evocation that anniversaries ending in '5' seem to bring about. what's so damn special about half a decade? are thoughts of the world trade center and the pentagon more poignant in 2006 than they were in 2005? highly dubious. no, the cynic in me says that five years is just long enough to pretend we won't reduce the earth-shattering events of that day to petty attempts at making money. sorry united 93, world trade center, and the flight that fought back, you guys almost made it. instead you could only wait four and a half years. that's just crass.
over the summer, i took a tour of the pentagon and the highlight, by far--not counting the ground zero hot dog stand*--was their memorial for 9/11. built into the section that was actually hit by flight 77, it houses a memorial with inscriptions of the names of everybody killed in the impact, including the names of the terrorists. that fact jarred me when i first heard it, and not only because it seemed out of character for a bush-led administration. it jarred me because i found humanization when i expected villification. i say this not as an excuse for the actions of the terrorists, but as a reminder of the fact that they are human and shouldn't be demonized. it's too easy to say they're just fucking evil and leave it at that. and while i find jihadic eradication of the west to be goddamned terrifying, i think that righteous eradication of the east is just as hideously stupid of an idea.
i went back and read the blog entry i wrote for september 13th, 2001. (i had a blog back then, and it was just as much of a self-indulgent screed as this one is. some things never change) besides the obnoxious $.25 vocab words--"zeitgeist"!--and tragicomic poetry--"gaping whole"--i think i made a good point about community. i've never really felt like a part of community simply because of where i live, and i think that's a distinctly american feeling. instead, the times i've felt most like a member of a community is when i'm with my friends--a community i helped to bring together and in which i play an important part. i don't know if that kind of feeling is possible in wider american society. the ability to cross social barriers like class, race, and ideology--which should have been stronger after 9/11!--seems to have left us completely. on the other hand, maybe i just isolate myself with semi-rich white urbanites possessed of an ironical worldview because i'm a big sissy mary on the inside. in any case, here's my old post, if you're interested.
i'll talk about school, west elm, moving, the wedding, and maybe football, politics, and how much i hate marmaduke in a little bit.
8.25.2006
please stand by
temporary hiatus due to lots of things. will resume after labor day-ish. ta-ta for now.
8.18.2006
heading for the hills
off to the lake house (somebody else's of course, i don't even have a non-lake house) for saturday to do some navel-gazing/writing/drinking and watch mike compete at something or other. for whatever reason, the stress of earlier in the week has faded with my head cold, and even though i still have nowhere to live and a relatively meager job, i'm in high spirits.
and it's about goddamn time, too. i hate being stressed and i deal with it pretty badly. i get really pissed off at nothing and easily frustrated and bored. it's awful and all it really takes to snap me out of it is nice weather, a little mental distance, and maybe a drink or two. the trouble is that i sometimes have difficulties recognizing when the stress is getting to me. luckily, i have a pretty good monitoring system in the form of cecilia. she's perfected the ability of telling me to grow up and get over myself.
anyway, this little working vacation of mine will be over soon enough. i've been staying away from newspapers, political blogs, and pretty much anything newsworthy (not counting the colbert report, of course) all week and it feels just fine. when school starts, i'm sure i'll be ranting and raving like old times, but in the meanwhile it's a more contemplative dan, a mellow dan. fuck, i wish i had some drugs.
and it's about goddamn time, too. i hate being stressed and i deal with it pretty badly. i get really pissed off at nothing and easily frustrated and bored. it's awful and all it really takes to snap me out of it is nice weather, a little mental distance, and maybe a drink or two. the trouble is that i sometimes have difficulties recognizing when the stress is getting to me. luckily, i have a pretty good monitoring system in the form of cecilia. she's perfected the ability of telling me to grow up and get over myself.
anyway, this little working vacation of mine will be over soon enough. i've been staying away from newspapers, political blogs, and pretty much anything newsworthy (not counting the colbert report, of course) all week and it feels just fine. when school starts, i'm sure i'll be ranting and raving like old times, but in the meanwhile it's a more contemplative dan, a mellow dan. fuck, i wish i had some drugs.
8.17.2006
hi-ho, hi-ho
yesterday, i earned money for the first time since mid-may. i went to a new hire orientation for a certain fancy furniture concern that will soon open its doors in boston. i was conflicted about this job before i said yes. on the one hand, i'm not sure i want to work in retail anymore, the pay is less than slinging latte, and it's a much longer commute. but on the other hand, i won't stink of old milk, it's a new environment with new people, there's the possibility of making commissions, and a whopping discount on pretentious urban furniture. like most jobs, it's a mixed bag.
retail continues to hold sway over my life, but i'm just grateful it's not foodservice (sorry, dad). i like the idea of walking 5 miles during a shift instead of sitting at a desk and seeing how long it takes for my ass to assume the shape of my chair. i like meeting people (some of the time) and being able to talk to them--it's like acting class all over again. it's not fulfilling work, but i don't need it to be. i fulfill myself in my spare time by writing. i just want a way to pay the bills that won't fill me with black despair (or leave me reeking of dairy). and retail fits the bill. if only it fucking paid more, i'd be the happiest boy in town.
p.s. i rode on a scooter for the first time and it was awesome. the only other time i've gone that fast without a seatbelt is on a ski slope. and that time i got a concussion. scooters are sweet.
retail continues to hold sway over my life, but i'm just grateful it's not foodservice (sorry, dad). i like the idea of walking 5 miles during a shift instead of sitting at a desk and seeing how long it takes for my ass to assume the shape of my chair. i like meeting people (some of the time) and being able to talk to them--it's like acting class all over again. it's not fulfilling work, but i don't need it to be. i fulfill myself in my spare time by writing. i just want a way to pay the bills that won't fill me with black despair (or leave me reeking of dairy). and retail fits the bill. if only it fucking paid more, i'd be the happiest boy in town.
p.s. i rode on a scooter for the first time and it was awesome. the only other time i've gone that fast without a seatbelt is on a ski slope. and that time i got a concussion. scooters are sweet.
8.15.2006
homecoming, indeed
i'm back in boston for 24 hours and i'm already sick. also, i have no job and nowhere to live as of september first. this sucks.
8.11.2006
snootchie-bootchies
once in a great while--not nearly as often as i'd like--i just want to get blazed out of my mind. i haven't smoked weed in a while now, but i've been watching weeds on dvd for about 3 hours now, and i think it's actually killing me. the jonesing, that is. the show is fucking great. season 2 starts on monday, but i'll be sadly out of premium television range at that point (and possibly out on the street--welfare state, my ass, massachusetts). i don't have a dealer anyway, so even if i had cash, all i could do is stare at it and pray for a miracle. good thing chris died for my sins.
8.10.2006
a blogger is joe
check him out, ya'll. except for the festering conservatism and an exceptional talent for bloviating, he's a stand-up kind of guy and i wish him the best. and if you don't agree with him, tell him so, he loves a good debate. just don't take it personally when he impugns your ancestors and starts hurling ritual quebecois hexes at you.
when the planets align
when the planets align
8.09.2006
thoughts on social networking
i guess i'm part of the facebook generation, as these things are understood. i'm probably on the cusp of being too old for it actually, and if not for a youthful girlfriend, i likely wouldn't have bothered. that being said, i'm kind of a sucker for this stuff. if i was anywhere close to single, i could have a lot of fun with match.com and its loneliness-defeating ilk. as it stands, i guess i'm more of a voyeur(/exhibitionist?), using various networks (i'm on friendster and myspace too, i'm pretty sure) to check in on far-away friends and find out what those losers from high school are up to.
i'm not one of those addicts you hear about who posts new pictures every day or exhaustively comments on everybody's walls. for seriously, who has the time? i'm getting pretty tired just writing this shit. and i have better things to do, like finding a home and a paycheck.
oh yeah, and myspace, for christ's sake get over yourself. as much as i (may or may not) like you, i probably don't want to hear your band unless somebody i trust can vouch for it. my listening time is too damn valuable to me (i use it to listen to stuff i already like, ok? sue me, i'm human). myspace band pages are like blogs. if i read one i like, and they recommend somebody else's, i'll check it out and decide for myself. but if you just start asking me to be your friend and check out your "awesome band" i'm probably going to report you by saying you solicited me for underage sex. yes, it's vindictive, but at least you'll get to be on dateline! think of the exposure!
rupert murdoch probably doesn't like you anyway.
the great thing about these social networks is that they're not really social at all. i can completely ignore virtually every one of my "friends" if i want to. if i did it in real life, then i would be forced to drink alone (more than i already do) but in the vast uncharted internets, i can pretend to be too busy with meetings and power lunches to care about what your summer plans are, weird girl who i met sophomore year! i just wish there was some way to combine all three of my profiles into one place so i wouldn't have to check multiple sites just to cyberstalk people. what a hassle!
i'm not one of those addicts you hear about who posts new pictures every day or exhaustively comments on everybody's walls. for seriously, who has the time? i'm getting pretty tired just writing this shit. and i have better things to do, like finding a home and a paycheck.
oh yeah, and myspace, for christ's sake get over yourself. as much as i (may or may not) like you, i probably don't want to hear your band unless somebody i trust can vouch for it. my listening time is too damn valuable to me (i use it to listen to stuff i already like, ok? sue me, i'm human). myspace band pages are like blogs. if i read one i like, and they recommend somebody else's, i'll check it out and decide for myself. but if you just start asking me to be your friend and check out your "awesome band" i'm probably going to report you by saying you solicited me for underage sex. yes, it's vindictive, but at least you'll get to be on dateline! think of the exposure!
rupert murdoch probably doesn't like you anyway.
the great thing about these social networks is that they're not really social at all. i can completely ignore virtually every one of my "friends" if i want to. if i did it in real life, then i would be forced to drink alone (more than i already do) but in the vast uncharted internets, i can pretend to be too busy with meetings and power lunches to care about what your summer plans are, weird girl who i met sophomore year! i just wish there was some way to combine all three of my profiles into one place so i wouldn't have to check multiple sites just to cyberstalk people. what a hassle!
8.08.2006
last week in dc
and i'm having a bit of hard time with it. i guess i should've expected it...i've been tempted to look for jobs around here instead of in boston, and to contact school and see how hard it would be to transfer for my final year. it's a weird feeling, i've always considered myself to be a pretty independent person, and the last year of long-distance relationshipping (ldr-ing) was hard but not nearly as hard as i had been afraid it would turn out to be. so why am i worried now?
because i'm also excited to leave. part of that is the things i have hanging over my head. looking for a job and an apartment at the same time is hell no matter how you slice it, but to be in the wrong city while cheap studios get taken and interviews get postponed is downright torturous. and despite my mom's conviction that i'm a member of the wait-and-see tribe (thanks, jd!), i actually prefer to go out and get shit done rather than let it get all sword of damocles on me (ok, that was gratuitous, i'm sorry). unless it's a paper for school. those are best left until the last minute, because that's when all the good ideas come out and play.
right, so i was going to use this post-work week to get out there and do a whole bunch of touristy things (climb the monument, go to the zoo, stand in the middle of the city and ask the cool looking people how to get to the jefferson memorial, take pictures of every building i see, eat signature dc foods (coffee and steak? every day? i feel like a lobbyist!), etc.) but now i'm gonna be guilty if i don't actually look for jobs/apartments. there's probably some way to equitably divide these things among the hours of the girlfriend-deprived portion of my day--there are far better ways to spend the hours when she's around, snap!--but all i really want to do is work on my latest story. since i'm basically trapped here with lots of free time, i should take advantage and really try to work through a chapter or three. with nanowrimo coming up fast, it's best to get into practice for 2000 words a day.
on top of all that, there's a very real sense that we've already started saying goodbye. shared glances heavy with significance, more hand-holding, lots of um...intimacy. none of which is bad, mind you. but it's hard to start saying goodbye with a week to go. i almost prefer to ignore it until the day i'm leaving, and then be sad for a day or two (or week, or until the phone sex starts) than to feel it dragging out through every minute we have together. she tries very hard not to be sad when we're apart though, more than i do, so i feel like she deserves a little indulgence. i'm perfectly ok with her sadness schedule. when i get sad and we're apart, i'll almost welcome it. i like a little melancholy now and then to spice things up--have a glass of bourbon, put on some mournful, beautiful music, light a few candles and stare at the cieling. i try to revel in the maudlin fun of it all. she's a stiff upper lip kind though. lacking in the "artistic temperament" (that's ok with me, i've got some to spare, after all). she bottles it up when we're apart, so it's almost good for her to be a little sad all week. a small price to pay for me anyway. my job is to cheer her up, and i think i'm damn good at it.
this is a little more personal than i usually get, so let me know if it's too much. not that i would stop. i do what i want, alright? quit trying to change me, jeez.
because i'm also excited to leave. part of that is the things i have hanging over my head. looking for a job and an apartment at the same time is hell no matter how you slice it, but to be in the wrong city while cheap studios get taken and interviews get postponed is downright torturous. and despite my mom's conviction that i'm a member of the wait-and-see tribe (thanks, jd!), i actually prefer to go out and get shit done rather than let it get all sword of damocles on me (ok, that was gratuitous, i'm sorry). unless it's a paper for school. those are best left until the last minute, because that's when all the good ideas come out and play.
right, so i was going to use this post-work week to get out there and do a whole bunch of touristy things (climb the monument, go to the zoo, stand in the middle of the city and ask the cool looking people how to get to the jefferson memorial, take pictures of every building i see, eat signature dc foods (coffee and steak? every day? i feel like a lobbyist!), etc.) but now i'm gonna be guilty if i don't actually look for jobs/apartments. there's probably some way to equitably divide these things among the hours of the girlfriend-deprived portion of my day--there are far better ways to spend the hours when she's around, snap!--but all i really want to do is work on my latest story. since i'm basically trapped here with lots of free time, i should take advantage and really try to work through a chapter or three. with nanowrimo coming up fast, it's best to get into practice for 2000 words a day.
on top of all that, there's a very real sense that we've already started saying goodbye. shared glances heavy with significance, more hand-holding, lots of um...intimacy. none of which is bad, mind you. but it's hard to start saying goodbye with a week to go. i almost prefer to ignore it until the day i'm leaving, and then be sad for a day or two (or week, or until the phone sex starts) than to feel it dragging out through every minute we have together. she tries very hard not to be sad when we're apart though, more than i do, so i feel like she deserves a little indulgence. i'm perfectly ok with her sadness schedule. when i get sad and we're apart, i'll almost welcome it. i like a little melancholy now and then to spice things up--have a glass of bourbon, put on some mournful, beautiful music, light a few candles and stare at the cieling. i try to revel in the maudlin fun of it all. she's a stiff upper lip kind though. lacking in the "artistic temperament" (that's ok with me, i've got some to spare, after all). she bottles it up when we're apart, so it's almost good for her to be a little sad all week. a small price to pay for me anyway. my job is to cheer her up, and i think i'm damn good at it.
this is a little more personal than i usually get, so let me know if it's too much. not that i would stop. i do what i want, alright? quit trying to change me, jeez.
8.04.2006
the cool kids
the day is fast approaching for my return to boston—land of cold winds, cold hearts, and cold harpoon! sadly, beantown is also lacking in the type of interesting, hilarious, friendly, engaging, welcoming, thought provoking, thoroughly enjoyable, readable, and loveable (and lustable) blog scene that i’ve discovered in just my few short weeks here. i’ve really enjoyed getting to know all the dc bloggers i’ve mentioned, and i’ve posted a few comments here and there on your various sites. needless to say, i’ll still be a regular reader up in boston.
which brings me to point #2. i want to invite any readers i have (i think there’s like 2 of you. what’s up? you should probably introduce yourselves to each other) to send me some links to any bloggers you know/read/met once/slept with in boston in the interests of making some connections.
my days of interning (and having both internets and the free time to make the most of them) are over as of 6pm today, so posts are going to be more sporadic over the next few weeks. sorry, but that’s the way it goes.
which brings me to point #2. i want to invite any readers i have (i think there’s like 2 of you. what’s up? you should probably introduce yourselves to each other) to send me some links to any bloggers you know/read/met once/slept with in boston in the interests of making some connections.
my days of interning (and having both internets and the free time to make the most of them) are over as of 6pm today, so posts are going to be more sporadic over the next few weeks. sorry, but that’s the way it goes.
8.02.2006
it's outrage o'clock
i know, i know. it’s completely uncool to post about politics in washington, but i’ve resisted as long as is humanly (or humanely) possible. now let me get this off my chest.
once upon a time, i--unlike many of my contemporary yippie friends--worked for the minimum wage, which was a paltry $5.15/hr at the time. it basically sucked and as soon as i could, i got a better job. being a white, upper-middle class male, this was easy for me to do. it is very, very hard for other people, mostly because they lack one or all of the traits listed above. also because the man keeps them down. anyway, that long-ago thankless toil came rushing back to me when I found out that the great state of massachusetts had overridden mitt’s veto and raised the state minimum wage. (and speaking of the mittster, he’s still a rampaging jackass)
as for the federal wage (because not all states are as cool as massachusetts, hell yeah!) it’s still only $5.15/hr. gadzooks! somebody call the fucking government, they’ll know what to do!
of course, because it’s congress, and congress is controlled by hulking soulless reptile-men (republicans!), what they did was vote down the minimum wage hike proposed by my good buddy ted kennedy earlier this summer. shortly thereafter, they voted for a congressional pay raise. the hypocrisy and gall that these men exhibit on a daily basis is simply mind-blowing. seriously, if your mind is still in one piece, go back and reread the last three sentences. i’ll wait.
see what I mean? blown like a high school quarterback on prom night. but it doesn’t end there, unfortunately. just this week, they put together a “compromise” bill that slapped a minimum wage hike together with the repeal of the estate tax. in case you’re not familiar with the estate tax, it is a tax levied on estates valued at $5 million or more (double for couples). it is a tax that only affects the super-mega wealthy. and repealing it is a republican wet dream. unfortunately for the rest of us americans, it will cost our government almost a trillion dollars (with a tr-) in revenue by 2021. that’s money that probably would go to programs to help the poor. is it any wonder that republicans want to eliminate this revenue stream? it lets them pour money on the rich and oppress the poor at the same time! praise jesus!
anyway, attaching this ass-rape of a policy to the minimum wage hike is a blatant attempt to lure dems across the aisle and make them vote to repeal the estate tax. if it works, it might just go down as the worst law of the 108th congress. i’d say ever, but i think the USA PATRIOT act still wins that one.
ok, politics over. go back about your business. there’s a post about debauchery coming up soon, i promise.
once upon a time, i--unlike many of my contemporary yippie friends--worked for the minimum wage, which was a paltry $5.15/hr at the time. it basically sucked and as soon as i could, i got a better job. being a white, upper-middle class male, this was easy for me to do. it is very, very hard for other people, mostly because they lack one or all of the traits listed above. also because the man keeps them down. anyway, that long-ago thankless toil came rushing back to me when I found out that the great state of massachusetts had overridden mitt’s veto and raised the state minimum wage. (and speaking of the mittster, he’s still a rampaging jackass)
as for the federal wage (because not all states are as cool as massachusetts, hell yeah!) it’s still only $5.15/hr. gadzooks! somebody call the fucking government, they’ll know what to do!
of course, because it’s congress, and congress is controlled by hulking soulless reptile-men (republicans!), what they did was vote down the minimum wage hike proposed by my good buddy ted kennedy earlier this summer. shortly thereafter, they voted for a congressional pay raise. the hypocrisy and gall that these men exhibit on a daily basis is simply mind-blowing. seriously, if your mind is still in one piece, go back and reread the last three sentences. i’ll wait.
see what I mean? blown like a high school quarterback on prom night. but it doesn’t end there, unfortunately. just this week, they put together a “compromise” bill that slapped a minimum wage hike together with the repeal of the estate tax. in case you’re not familiar with the estate tax, it is a tax levied on estates valued at $5 million or more (double for couples). it is a tax that only affects the super-mega wealthy. and repealing it is a republican wet dream. unfortunately for the rest of us americans, it will cost our government almost a trillion dollars (with a tr-) in revenue by 2021. that’s money that probably would go to programs to help the poor. is it any wonder that republicans want to eliminate this revenue stream? it lets them pour money on the rich and oppress the poor at the same time! praise jesus!
anyway, attaching this ass-rape of a policy to the minimum wage hike is a blatant attempt to lure dems across the aisle and make them vote to repeal the estate tax. if it works, it might just go down as the worst law of the 108th congress. i’d say ever, but i think the USA PATRIOT act still wins that one.
ok, politics over. go back about your business. there’s a post about debauchery coming up soon, i promise.
7.31.2006
i (don't) need a roommate (at the moment)!
anybody have any friends in the greater boston area who (might) need a room for the next year (or part of the year) (assuming i can find an apartment that requires me to have another roommate)? i (might) have a room i need to fill for $550/month plus utilities (or some completely different amount). leave a note in comments and i’ll get (purely hypothetical) details to you somehow.
it's a long story. suffice it to say that landlords are a demented subspecies of human (distantly related to the greedius ceo-us that terrorizes american boardrooms. they exist solely to wring every last cent from us tenants by raising rents, making empty promises, and doing their damnedest to stamp out all that is good and decent in this world.
my current (soon to be ex-) landlord rented my apartment out from under my roommate and i back in boston, an event i only recently heard about. now i'm scrambling from many miles away to find a replacement place that is agreeable. my roommate and our tentative third roommate are doing their best as well--resulting in yesterday's aborted lease-signing/celebration/sigh of relief--and i have no doubt we'll find something sooner or later. it's still stressful though, especially so given the fact that i don't really want to live with either of them.
my dream is to have my own place, a studio or a one-bedroom apartment, all to myself. don't get me wrong, i'm a fine roommate and i have no real complaints about the people i've lived with. i just don't want to do it anymore. i'm sick of other people's dishes, other people's friends, other people's furniture, and having to ride herd on people to pay their damn share of the cable bill. but sky-high boston rents and crippling unemployment seem to indicate that i have no real choice in the matter. keep your fingers crossed though, august is a long month, and something good might still happen.
it's a long story. suffice it to say that landlords are a demented subspecies of human (distantly related to the greedius ceo-us that terrorizes american boardrooms. they exist solely to wring every last cent from us tenants by raising rents, making empty promises, and doing their damnedest to stamp out all that is good and decent in this world.
my current (soon to be ex-) landlord rented my apartment out from under my roommate and i back in boston, an event i only recently heard about. now i'm scrambling from many miles away to find a replacement place that is agreeable. my roommate and our tentative third roommate are doing their best as well--resulting in yesterday's aborted lease-signing/celebration/sigh of relief--and i have no doubt we'll find something sooner or later. it's still stressful though, especially so given the fact that i don't really want to live with either of them.
my dream is to have my own place, a studio or a one-bedroom apartment, all to myself. don't get me wrong, i'm a fine roommate and i have no real complaints about the people i've lived with. i just don't want to do it anymore. i'm sick of other people's dishes, other people's friends, other people's furniture, and having to ride herd on people to pay their damn share of the cable bill. but sky-high boston rents and crippling unemployment seem to indicate that i have no real choice in the matter. keep your fingers crossed though, august is a long month, and something good might still happen.
the big mo
check it out! the real-life version of ari from entourage thinks boycotting mad max’s ass is a grand idea! thanks ari, with you and me in this together, there’s no telling how far we can take it. just make sure that adrian grenier plays me in the movie. he looks like a mensch.
taking a stand!
things i won’t do:
that’s it. everything else is fair game.
- as outlined below, watch cnn ever again, due to their reporting on the coming armageddon as if it were news. good job, guys. as a news source, you’ve achieved the level of trust and journalistic acumen that i usually expect from x-men comics and those larouche pamphlets that the straight-edge kids hand out in harvard square.
- you may have heard of this guy mel gibson. way back when, he filled out a pair of tights real nicely and once he even went against his mercenary ways and helped a band of post-apocalyptic survivors fend off roving marauders. those were the days. now he denies the holocaust and blames the jews for making him drink and drive. and for starting all those wars. that were actually started by evangelical christians. just like mel (catholic, whatever). anyway, i’m done with this clown—no more mel gibson movies. in fact, the first thing i’m doing when i get back to boston is microwaving my road warrior dvd! now, that’s consumer retribution!
- drink miller high life. also explained below, this piss was vile even back when it was all i could afford. now, i may be broker than ever, but my standards continue to rise (like inflation!) and at the ripe old age of 25, i can confidently proclaim that i will never force this swill down my craw again! bring on the miller lite!
that’s it. everything else is fair game.
7.28.2006
good move, give the crazies a megaphone
fuck! i’m never watching cnn ever again. 
you hear me, time warner? never! i’m an msnbc viewer from here on out, no matter how cute anderson cooper is or how many times he has angelina jolie on his show, or how many times soledad o’brien says she thinks I’m hot. fucking forget it! you can’t put shit like this on the air!
that's just how soledad shows her love --->
you hear me, time warner? never! i’m an msnbc viewer from here on out, no matter how cute anderson cooper is or how many times he has angelina jolie on his show, or how many times soledad o’brien says she thinks I’m hot. fucking forget it! you can’t put shit like this on the air!
that's just how soledad shows her love --->
there goes my screenplay idea
the someday café really is closing this time. and sooner rather than later. that’s kinda sad, despite what i said before. i don’t even like mr. crêpe, and it sounds like they were steamrolled by developmentophiles and a cocksucker landlord.
not that there’s anything surprising about that. if there’s a single landlord in boston who isn’t a cocksucker*, i’d be glad to shake his/her hand.
when i first wrote about it, i figured it would be like in empire records, and through a very watchable combination of pluck and short skirts they’d turn it all around, possibly by baking brownies or inviting scul over to shake down the fatcats or waging guerilla war on artbeat. so much for life imitating art. at least i can still go to diesel to play pool/get sneered at for my hopeless corporatism.
now i’m just depressed.
*quick disclaimer about cocksucking. i’m all for it--i don’t care who you are or whose cock you’re sucking, i think it’s fan-fucking-tastic. really, knock yourself out. i just think it’s a completely, awesomely useful word. james lipton, if you’re reading this, one question down, nine to go!
not that there’s anything surprising about that. if there’s a single landlord in boston who isn’t a cocksucker*, i’d be glad to shake his/her hand.
when i first wrote about it, i figured it would be like in empire records, and through a very watchable combination of pluck and short skirts they’d turn it all around, possibly by baking brownies or inviting scul over to shake down the fatcats or waging guerilla war on artbeat. so much for life imitating art. at least i can still go to diesel to play pool/get sneered at for my hopeless corporatism.
now i’m just depressed.
*quick disclaimer about cocksucking. i’m all for it--i don’t care who you are or whose cock you’re sucking, i think it’s fan-fucking-tastic. really, knock yourself out. i just think it’s a completely, awesomely useful word. james lipton, if you’re reading this, one question down, nine to go!
7.27.2006
come to dc, you'll be in bed by midnight!
i guess it’s true what they say, as long as what they say is “miller high life tastes like old paint.” on saturday, cecilia’s brother was in town to visit and we did all the usual touristy things: walk around, go to urban outfitters, grab a cheap haircut at the hair cuttery in dupont, and last but not least, head to asylum for quarter beer night!
every week, at 5pm sharp, asylum, the vegan biker bar, fills up with the poor and the very poor and the alcoholic for a night of bargain basement debauchery. 12-oz plastic cups of high life start at just $.25 and go up $.50 every hour afterwards until they reach their market price or everybody drinks themselves blind, whichever comes first.
in my case, absolute disgust with the corn-syrupy-sweet, utterly bland taste of high life led me to instigate a revolt (ok, cecilia’s comic inability to down the stuff didn’t hurt either) and order a round of delirium tremens for the table. and it was a damn good thing too, because after finding a chip of glass in one of them, we got all four for free! huzzah for potential injury!
needless to say, the good beer revived our spirits immensely and when waitress andrea (wasn’t she on a reality show? we wondered. although not me, because the only reality tv i watch is project runway, 30 days (it’s back!), and the food network. i don’t think andrea was heidi klum in disguise…) asked out of the blue if we wanted to do some carbombs. yes, andrea. we do.
i barely remember stumbling down 18th st. to dupont, though i do recall landing heavily in a booth in the big hunt. this is all around 9-ish, so the place is pretty dead. we order a greased-out pizza and proceed to watch cecilia’s brother get more and more out-of-it. and he’s the only one still in college! why, back in my day, collegians could hold their liquor, damn it. he rebounds enough to sing along with the cabby on the ride back to the hill, but when we get there we find that every fucking bar has gone and closed up by ten on a saturday! what the fuck, dc? isn’t getting bombed at cap lounge worth a little rain? honestly, i’m a little ashamed for you guys.
and that’s not all we have to be ashamed about, because a few minutes later we forced the closing crew at some mexican place down on pennsylvania to let us in for one last drink. i don’t know about you, but to me, 5 sodden, boozy twenty-somethings miserably cutching coronas in an empty, over-air-conditioned taqueria spells p-a-r-t-y! hells yeah. let’s just say we were happy to get home and forget it ever happened.
every week, at 5pm sharp, asylum, the vegan biker bar, fills up with the poor and the very poor and the alcoholic for a night of bargain basement debauchery. 12-oz plastic cups of high life start at just $.25 and go up $.50 every hour afterwards until they reach their market price or everybody drinks themselves blind, whichever comes first.
in my case, absolute disgust with the corn-syrupy-sweet, utterly bland taste of high life led me to instigate a revolt (ok, cecilia’s comic inability to down the stuff didn’t hurt either) and order a round of delirium tremens for the table. and it was a damn good thing too, because after finding a chip of glass in one of them, we got all four for free! huzzah for potential injury!
needless to say, the good beer revived our spirits immensely and when waitress andrea (wasn’t she on a reality show? we wondered. although not me, because the only reality tv i watch is project runway, 30 days (it’s back!), and the food network. i don’t think andrea was heidi klum in disguise…) asked out of the blue if we wanted to do some carbombs. yes, andrea. we do.
i barely remember stumbling down 18th st. to dupont, though i do recall landing heavily in a booth in the big hunt. this is all around 9-ish, so the place is pretty dead. we order a greased-out pizza and proceed to watch cecilia’s brother get more and more out-of-it. and he’s the only one still in college! why, back in my day, collegians could hold their liquor, damn it. he rebounds enough to sing along with the cabby on the ride back to the hill, but when we get there we find that every fucking bar has gone and closed up by ten on a saturday! what the fuck, dc? isn’t getting bombed at cap lounge worth a little rain? honestly, i’m a little ashamed for you guys.
and that’s not all we have to be ashamed about, because a few minutes later we forced the closing crew at some mexican place down on pennsylvania to let us in for one last drink. i don’t know about you, but to me, 5 sodden, boozy twenty-somethings miserably cutching coronas in an empty, over-air-conditioned taqueria spells p-a-r-t-y! hells yeah. let’s just say we were happy to get home and forget it ever happened.
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