Drew's Blog

July 01, 2005

Holy Crap!

It's Dan Fabiano's birthday!! He may have moved to Southern California, but here at courtney5, we think he's awesome anyway.

Happy birthday, Dan.

Posted by Drew at 01:30 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

June 28, 2005

Meh.

In case you were wondering, I'm not dead, I'm just in Buffalo.

Some people may not see the connection between being in Western New York and being unable to summon the energy to post even the most piddling blog entry. Those people have clearly never been in my parents' basement. Something about the place removes any inclination to do anything other than watch reruns of Blow Out on Bravo.

I have, since I've gotten back, managed to get out of town just about every weekend. Shawna's wedding was this weekend on Long Island (hooray Shawna) and I had a job interview trip to NY and DC the weekend before. I'm going up to the Adirondaks this weekend with my family, but not before my graduation.

Graduation from where, you ask. From bartending school. Yes, I can now make you any number of drinks you never knew existed. If anyone knows of a bar that needs a skinny, uptight bartender, please let me know.

Posted by Drew at 12:51 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

June 15, 2005

Maybe I should try for the under-12 discount.

Last week, while buying beer for Dave and Kara's housewarming party, I was carded at Wegman's. Not a big deal; I'm used to it. What bothered me a little was that the manager decided to quiz me on my information. That I'm not used to, and I have to say, I was a little irritated. I understand that I look young, but I don't much like the suggestion that I look both young and untrustworthy.

I guess I shouldn't have given her a hard time, though. Today I had to open a new checking account. The woman looked at me and asked with all seriousness, "Are you eighteen?"

Posted by Drew at 02:12 PM | Comments (8) | TrackBack

June 05, 2005

Drew's Last Night In Town

Technically, this may not be my last night in town, but as I may be spening tomorrow night with my Dad, it may well be the last time I see many, many people. Which brings me to my point:

My friends are awesome. I'm sad when you're not around.

True, I'm aware of the fact that my parents just pay you all to be my friends, but still I appreciate it. And since all of you are willing to spend your valuable time hanging out with a socially awkward semi-alcoholic, it would be rather foolish of me to be so lazy as to not post on here occasionaly since, obviously, I'm never going to call you. (The phone scares me a little.) I'd rather see you all in person, but if that can't happen, at least I can rant at you electronically through the wonders of technology.

In short, the blog will continue, but only because I like you guys so darn much. So, I will get back to posting mind-numbing updates on my life . . . later. It's late and I'm tired.

(Anna, I'm going to e-mail you anyway.)

Posted by Drew at 12:52 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

May 11, 2005

Limited Time Offer

I haven't had a real update in a while but I wanted to alert all my loyal readers (Hi, Mom!) to thrilling news: I've made a mix tape.

Ok, to some of you, that may not seem thrilling, but those of you who enjoyed my last mix ("The Rurual Hipster") have no doubt been waiting eagerly for the follow up. Ok, maybe you haven't. Please don't tell me.

In the interest of making my friends like me more, I'll send a copy of "The Edwardian Torture Mix" to anyone who wants one. E-mail me your address at [MY FIRST NAME].[MY LAST NAME]@gmail.com and put in the subject line a grossly inaccurate compliment about my physical attractiveness. (Suggestions: "Drew isn't really as scrawny as everyone says" or "Drew: Thin, patchy facial hair is Hot!") The only condition is that one day, in the near or distant future, you burn a CD for me. Or write me a poem. Or just promise to hang out with me.

First come, first serve until I finish off this stack of CDs I've got right here.

Posted by Drew at 02:04 PM | Comments (91) | TrackBack

May 01, 2005

A Vist from My Mom

This weekend my mother came to visit me in the deep, dark Delta. It was very nice to have her here, but it did make me realize how soon it will be before I have to leave.

"Have to?" you scoff.

Yes, have to. Spending time showing someone around the Delta reminds me of all the things to love about the place. Good friends. Ground Zero. My big built in bookshelves. The man in the casino who casually offered my mother chewing tobacco as we watched people shoot craps. Oh, I shall miss you Arkansas.

Good thing I have school tomorrow. I'm pretty sure getting punching in the face by a few kids / screwed over by a few administrators will restore some clarity to my thoughts.

Also, while we were walking around Memphis a bird pooped on my head.

Job Angst Level: A purpose driven life is overrated.

Posted by Drew at 09:13 PM | Comments (52) | TrackBack

April 24, 2005

Another Pointless Update

Bullet points!

- Andrew Bird's CD is AWESOME. I can not say enough good things about it.
- Anthony House wrote about the Pope on his site and you should read it (you have to scroll down.) I still insist that I can dislike him just because he looks like the Emperor in Star Wars. [Ed. - That part about Relativism v. Liberalism? Damn straight!]
- Spent Saturday in Memphis with Hannah and Kelly. Good times, good times.
- 29 days of school left? No way! Way!
- Job angst level: I will die a used car salesman.
- Wow. This was totally the most pointless post ever.

Posted by Drew at 09:58 PM | Comments (65) | TrackBack

April 17, 2005

So much to talk about. So little to say.

My stars! I've been horrible about updating. So bad, in fact, that only one thing can make up for it: Bullet points!

- I'm enjoying Franz Ferdinand very much. It's amazing that you can be a great rock band and still have really bad teeth.

- On Friday I sent in my tax returns. I went to the post office and ended up sending a check to the government using a stamp featuring the visage of Ronald Reagan. I suspect that both of us are unhappy with the situation, albeit for different reasons.

- Rob Anderson is a fantastic person with whom I wish I spent more time in college. He linked to an entry of mine recently. No good deed goes unpunished, so he's getting a link over there on the right. You should read his page.

- Did anyone else hear Andrew Bird on Weekend Edition this morning? His CD sounds awesome.

- Yesterday, in a reflection activity at Professional Saturday, I exploded into a frenzy of anger and cynicism. It was quite a tirade and when it was over the rest of my group was left in stunned silence. I think the less said about that the better.

- 34 days of school left. Not that I'm counting.

- My God, This American Life continues to be the best show ever.

- Ugh, we have ants. Also wasps.

- Catherine's birthday was yesterday! She rules!

- Job angst level: running away to India.

- I haven't updated my Book Blog in months. I'm reading, I swear. Stephen Greenblat's Will in the World is pretty awesome. It makes me wonder why Shakespeare in Love didn't feature more Jesuits being publicly disemboweled. Some questions simply have no answers . . .

Posted by Drew at 09:57 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

April 12, 2005

No Posts

I'm sorry that I haven't posted in a while. Job angst is running high. Whenever I see a job for which I'm totally unqualified, I spend several hours working on the application. When I see a job I could actually get I think, "Forget this. I'm applying to art school!" which is clearly a sane and rational choice as my greatest artistic acheivement to date is a hand-outline turkey drawing I made for Thanksgiving.

I think what I need is a grant. A grant to think deep thoughts. And read books. About whatever I feel like. Now who do I know who's really rich?

You know what makes me feel better though? This comic strip. Reading it is often the highpoint of my day.

Posted by Drew at 11:50 PM | Comments (55) | TrackBack

April 04, 2005

My pit of shame grows a little deeper

Today while I was jogging a small child asked me if I played Napoleon Dynamite.

That is so the last time I go jogging in moon boots.

Posted by Drew at 09:40 PM | Comments (41) | TrackBack

March 31, 2005

A Purchase

Rob and Catherine are in a very different stage of life than I. They're married. Catherine has a job she likes and Rob is approaching the end of law school. They are the kind of people who can care for not one but two cats with only occasional need for emergency surgery.

Whenever I leave their house, I feel a little inadequate seeing as most of my long term relationships involve not another person, but a substantial quantity of alcohol or perhaps, a phalanx of short lived mice.

Still, they instill in me the hope that I too may have my life in control, at least in the view of a casual observer. As such, following in their footsteps, I recently purchased a label maker.

Rob and Catherine have developed a rather extensive filing system using the label maker. Looking for last years tax return? Filed. A map of the local state park? Filed. A particularly humorous cartoon from the New Yorker? Yep, it's in there.

I ordered mine, the Brother PT-65, from Amazon, and today it arrived. It was everything I hoped it would be.

Only a few minutes out of the box, the label maker was now helpfully labeled, "Label Maker" I understood immediately that this was perhaps contrary to the purpose of purchasing the machine, and so with only ten minutes of hard work, I managed to clarify what in the living room constituted the "Television," "Coffee Table," "Wall," and "Cat." When Kate ("Roommate") threatened to retaliate by labeling my mice ("Cat Food") I retreated to my clearly marked "Bedroom" and turned to my fresh pile of manila folders.

"Beer Labels" seemed like a good place to start, and, attesting to the usefulness of the organizational process, the mere act of making such a label reminded me of how long it had been since I had added to the collection -- literally hours. I took the opportunity to add another few samples. Next was "Dirty Limericks" and "Frisby, Pictures Of." I had just labeled my feet "Left" and "Right," my cup of "Tea, Hot," and the folder for "Manila Folders, Blank," when the machine ran out of tape. Apparently, the roll included was only a sample to make a tiny number of labels.

I spent the next hour and a half staring at the empty spool and wishing, beyond hope, that I had taken the opportunity to label this, useless though it now was, the inevitable remains of a misplaced enthusiasm for maturity.

Posted by Drew at 01:33 PM | Comments (55) | TrackBack

March 26, 2005

To Hell and Back: My Trip to Hot Springs, Arkansas

Oh, gentle readers! I am almost afraid to relate to you the chilling tale of the past two days. Aware as I am that most of you visit this site to escape the pointless tedium of your own existence, I worry lest I should burden you with more psychic baggage than you are already carrying around, most of you loaded already well past the breaking point. Nevertheless, the story of my journey to Hot Springs, Arkansas must be told if only as a cautionary tale to anyone so foolish as to approach this sordid town of perversion and despair. Children, get thee to bed! Ladies, avert your eyes! My narrative is not for the faint of heart!

Like any good gothic misadventure, it all started simply enough. After returning from the rainy, wonderful, expensive Bay Area where I visited with my brother Rob and sister-in-law Catherine, my so-called "friends" Hannah and Kelly invited me to stay with them in the sleepy mountain hamlet of Hot Springs.

Hot Springs is known throughout the civilized world as the boyhood home of one William Jefferson Clinton, the last occupant of the Oval Office to be able to tie his own shoes without assistance. "What a lark!" I thought. "Any town which produced Mr. Clinton must surely be good for a few days of harmless enjoyment." Oh, how wrong I was.

I arrived late Wednesday night. Thursday morning was balmy and clear, the pleasantness of the weather hiding the gathering horrors of the afternoon. We went for a hike. We ate some ice cream. We took a tour of a bath house.

"Bath house?" I hear you mutter. "I thought they shut those down in the late eighties. I'd better reread that Larry Kramer book." No, dear readers, it's not that kind of bath house. It's much, much worse.

Hot Springs, you may have reasoned, is named after hot mineral springs in the hills above town. In Iceland, geothermally heated water is used to provided inexpensive, ecologically responsible heat and energy for entire villages. In America it is collected and sold to the wealthy. Hot Springs developed a thriving economy by offering a full course of mineral baths to the idle rich beginning in the late 19th century, and by complimenting this regimen with a wide variety of casinos and whorehouses. Sadly, today, only the baths remain.

Kelly, a woman I up until this point considered to be of sound mind, insisted that we all sign up to take a bath. She had visited the baths before, and, foolishly, I agreed.

After a fine morning, we went to a hotel, the ornate lobby of which gave no hint of the horrors within. Upstairs we checked in and were each given a loffa, or handheld sponge/torture device. Hannah and Kelly were sent in one direction, I in the other.

I can not describe the facilities other than to say that One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest may well have been filmed on this very location. After being given an opportunity to review last year's issue of Psychology Today, I was greeted by my attendant, Matt, who told me to "take off your clothes and put on this towel."

I should pause here to explain that I may, perhaps, have some body image issues. "What?" you gasp. "How could you have body image issues? You don't weigh too much! You have the kind of physique anorexic super models can only dream of. Your skinny little chicken arms and sunken chest reveal you to be the post-college equivalent of a 98 pound . . ." And suddenly it all becomes clear.

After stripping down, I put on the towel, a kind of velcro skirt clearly designed for a man rather more rotund than myself. I was given a locker and a key on a rubber band, thus doubling the articles of "clothing" on my body. I was brought to a half filled bathtub in a semi-enclosed cubicle.

"Put your towel here and get in the tub," Matt said.

"Urp," I responded.

I try to be a "with-it" guy so into the tub I went. I did not expect, however, that my, when-in-Rome attitude would actually extend to being washed by a servant. Yes, there I lay, prone and naked in the bathtub as an elderly black man scrubbed my back and legs. I'm not sure exactly what kind of conversation is appropriate at time like this. Perhaps I should have inquired as to his life or family, but instead I opted for stunned, horrified silence.

My joy at the cessation of my washing can hardly be overstated. Matt told my to relax and that he would be back to get me in "fifteen to twenty minutes." He flipped the switch of an electric pump that shot water around the tub Jacuzzi style. I have no reason to believe that he would lie about such a thing as how long he would be gone, but I have to imagine that in reality I was left in the tub for a period closer to three or four hours. Luckily, I had plenty of things to do. For instance, I could wonder whether or not it was possible to redirect the jets away from my nether regions without managing to electrocute myself and thus meet death in the single more humiliating manner I can imagine. Oh, the pleasure!

Adding to the surrealism of the experience, the clock above the tub was, in a cruel twist of fate, broken, causing it to twitch meaningfully without actually moving forward. The effect was to increase the impression that all my sins had finally caught up with me and I was trapped in Hades for all eternity.

Eventually, Matt came to rescue me. I bound out of the tub and back into my towel with an intensity which seemed to frighten him. He asked if I had any "aches or pains."

"No, I don't," I shouted. "And I certainly don't need to be touched again!"

He proposed that I visit the sauna, and I accepted. For five minutes, I was blissfully alone and clothed. Sadly, my sweaty solitude could not last forever, and soon Matt was back telling me to lie on a "cooling board" and allow myself to be wrapped in a sheet. The sensation was, I imagine, something akin to what one would experience in a morgue, only without the sweet mercy of death. When the gentleman next to me told Matt he needed a few more minutes to cool down, I informed him that I, on the other hand, would be only too happy to move another step closer to my eventual release.

This was not a good idea.

The next step was to be a cool shower. To some of you this may seem like a relatively painless procedure, but that is only because you have never had to misfortune to experience the Edwardian torture device that is the "needle shower."

On our tour earlier in the day, we had seen a sample of this contraption: a shower surrounded with pipes, all of which shoot water at the body from a different angle. I remarked that it looked like the kind of shower enjoyed by Tim Burton, but Kelly assured me that it actually felt quite nice. In retrospect, one can only conclude that Kelly's level of masochism would turn the stomach of the Marquise de Sade himself.

Once out of my towel (again) I was forced into a stall in which ice cold needle of water were shot into my flesh with force enough to cut steel. Some parts of the body, in case you were wondering, do not enjoy being so violently assaulted, but the nightmare machine knows no mercy.

By the time Matt came to rescue me I was near tears. All I wanted was my pathetic, too big towel but that was obviously not an option. Instead I was greeted with one final, crowning indignity. I was directed to another bench, sat naked upon it, and hand dried. I managed to seize a nearby towel and began to wipe myself in a frantic and doomed effort to dry the rest of my body while Matt was still occupied with my hair and back. I failed, and as such learned that the two scariest words in the English language are "legs up."

When the last of my pride had been stripped away, I ran back to my locker, throwing my clothes on with scant regard to fronts and backs or even insides and outs. I had only two things on my mind: the presence of the hotel bar in the lobby and the vast, vast amount of alcohol I would have to consume before I could again look in a mirror.

Although I didn't really believe that the pleasure of getting drunk by oneself in the daytime would actually undo my bath house experience, I was determined give it my best effort. The bartender was extremely helpful in my attempt, and by the time Kelly and Hannah emerged from the elevator looking clean and relaxed I was passing the point of no return.

Visiting the baths was an experience that could politely be called "unique." I understand how, seventy five years ago, important men used to being waited upon could sit in the tubs, chomp on cigars, and conduct business with equally high power associates. Even now I know that plenty of people visit spas and get massages all the time. Perhaps that kind of pampering just isn't my style -- give me a comfortable chair and a good book any time -- but I think the baths of Hot Springs are a qualitatively different experience from a typical visit to a hot tub or masseuse. Never, the entire time I was there, did I feel I was getting the attention of a trained pseudo-medical professional: I felt like I was getting scrubbed down by a servant. Like a ride in a rickshaw, the experience may be worth having, but it's not one that can ever really be comfortable. Nor is it one I'm in a rush to repeat. At least, I don't think so.

The next morning, as I retched into the hotel room toilet, I had time to reconsider the entire ordeal. The nakedness, the scrubbing, the unfortunately placed jets. My head was pounding, my body ached and I thought that maybe, just maybe, the thing to do would be to have a nice long soak in the tub.

Posted by Drew at 11:29 PM | Comments (58) | TrackBack

March 23, 2005

In case you were wondering . . .

I'm in California and, hence, have better things to do than post on here. (I called my parents, so that's one third of my readership right there.) I'm heading back to Arkansas today but I'm going straight to Hot Springs with Hannah and Kelly (another third) to eat some food and enjoy a hot mineral bath.

Moral: no more updates until Friday. I'm sure that the spam producing robots posting on this site (the final third) will be mightily dissapointed.

Posted by Drew at 11:08 AM | Comments (59) | TrackBack

March 09, 2005

I'm only kind of a bad person . . .

You know, some blogs don't destroy the author's reputation in the eyes of the reader. I'll take a break from my bitching and moaning to point to this.

My good friend (and future Sesame Street star!) ZB Parker is doing an AIDS Walk in Houston.

Let me break this down for you:
AIDS = Bad!
ZB = Good!
Houston (or any city is Texas) = Bad! But not nearly as bad as AIDS!

Posted by Drew at 05:03 PM | Comments (44) | TrackBack

So how are you doing?

Just in case you were wondering, I am sick. I know this is why you visit this site: to hear me complain. Here goes.

I am sick. Not I'm-going-to-die sick, but at least too-sick-to-stop-shaking-and-watch-The-Simpsons [Ed. note - My codition has improved. I can now watch both The Simpsons and Sex and the City but not Anderson Cooper 360. What a crappy show.] I can feel every hair on my body and they all hurt. I slept for 15 hours yesterday (3:30 PM to 6:45 AM) and then went to school because, joy of joys!, it's Benchmark week. My students, being the merciless carnivores they are, choose to exploit my weakness at every opportity. Also, I got to wipe my nose all day on sandpaper grade paper towels which were clearly designed as a cruel practical joke as they absorb less than nothing, and, in fact, you would be better trying to dry your nose with a garden hose and then just slashing at your upper lip with a straigt razor.

Luckily, my mom used her Motherly Super Powers to sense my distress and call me. Sadly, she is in Florida, so I will have to prepare flat ginger ale all by myself. (No doubt I will somehow manage to burn it.)

[UPDATE - Hannah and Kelly: I was totally going to come sit in your kitchen this week. It was my BHAG. Sadly, like all my BHAGs, it was not to be. Perhaps tomorrow.]

Posted by Drew at 04:47 PM | Comments (57) | TrackBack

March 06, 2005

This is why I don't eat meat!

As Boing-boing put it, "No science fiction movie has ever had a machine as creepy as the E-Z Catch Harvester." It's true. There's no blood or guts in the video, just very surprised chickens being sucked into a giant chicken grabbing machine. What worries me is that this is the machine at peak performance. The people at this company think that it is not just normal, but desireable to make a giant, nightmarish chicken vacum and then publicize it on the web. Who knows what horrors may come when the cameras are off.

Posted by Drew at 09:51 AM | Comments (59) | TrackBack

March 01, 2005

Job Porn

It's come to my attention that I now read job postings with the same lust others apply to erotica. Sure, I don't really expect to be hired as the senior VP of Communications at the Folger, but neither do most guys think they'll actually have carnal relations with Terri Hatcher. It doesn't make it less fun to think about.

On the other hand, most Internet role playing doesn't include lines like, "And they'll match up to 8% of my salary in a 401(k) plan?! Yes! Yes! Yes!"

In class, I'm sometimes caught glassy-eyed and distant. Yes, it's true, men have an employment fantasy every eight seconds.

Posted by Drew at 10:00 PM | Comments (57) | TrackBack

February 21, 2005

John Donne give birth to a litter of tiny rodents!!!

Apparently PetSmart didn't do such a good job seperating their "male" and "female" mice, because I suddenly have a whole lot of 'em. I'd post a picture, but I'm afraid the flash would blind them. If it was my students, sure, go ahead! But these are mice we're talking about here. They have feelings.

NOTE: If you read this headline and knew immediatly what it meant, you are reading this blog too often. I have successfully managed to suck you into my whirlpool of dorky-loserdom.

Posted by Drew at 08:54 PM | Comments (59) | TrackBack

GTA Weekend

In a word: awesome.

I went up to DC for the theater alumni group at Georgetown and it was pretty sweet. Sally ran the whole thing so, obviously, it surpassed even the highest expectations. It was great to see everyone again and reminded me of why I spent so much of my life in the pit of despair known as Poulton Hall.

Sadly, Christina and I didn't get to go to New York to see The Gates. We were held up by hypothetical snow.

On the plus side, I got another evening in DC to punish my liver for all the wrong it has done me over the years. Apparently every single Mask and Bauble alumn feels exactly the same way. The bars couldn't keep up, and that's with only one Jesuit!

Posted by Drew at 08:45 PM | Comments (71) | TrackBack

February 14, 2005

An Open Valentine

Valentine's Day is here again, reminding us of the 1,734th anniversary of Saint Valentine's brutal death at the hands of the Roman authorities. Beheadings of all sorts always make my thoughts turn to love . . .

The past few years, Valentine's Day has been kind of a downer. Grade some papers. Drink some beer. Phone in a fake bomb threat to the local movie theater. This year though, I realizes that I've never understood the true meaning of the day. It's not about candy hearts or long stem roses. It's about finding that special someone who you can be truly count on to be there when times get bad. Finally, I've found that. It's someone who's been with me in all my darkest moments, the times everything falls to pieces and there seems to be no dawn ahead, and yet I never truly appreciate it. This year, won't you be my Valentine, Existential Crisis?

Those of you who know me know that I spend a lot of time with Existential Crisis. I already consider him to be part of the family, so I think it's time to take this to the next level. Sure, other couples have a better physical relationship, but only Existential Crisis really makes me stop and ask: Is living worthwhile at all, or is all meaning really just applied meaning? *sigh* Oh, Existential Crisis, you've always been there for me. Especially since I started teaching!!

Just this weekend, looking for a job, I started getting depressed. I thought that no one reall understood. "What can I do?" I cried. "Where am I going to get a job that I find fulfilling on personal and emotional level?"

"Don't worry," said Existential Crisis. "You don't even really need a job. We all die alone in the end anyway!"

"Oh, you always know just what to say," I sighed as I poured another tumbler full of vodka.

I don't mean to say there haven't been happy times. Just look!

Touring the hills of Ireland.

Just hanging out in my kitchen in Orchard Park.

Sharing a romantic dinner.

I know that they don't have little sugar hearts with the kind of sayings you like, Existential Crisis, ("No God?" or "It's Pointless!")but if they did, I'd buy you a boatload of 'em. Although you probably wouldn't even eat them, would you, Mr. Loving-others-only-leads-to-heartbreak-and-misery? Do I know you or what?!

Well, enjoy your Valentine's Day everyone. Existential Crisis and I are going to spend some quality alone time in the bedroom rereading L'etranger and listening to Portishead.

Posted by Drew at 07:14 PM | Comments (57) | TrackBack

February 13, 2005

The Gates

This is an open letter to everyone who's going to be at the GTA event next weekend (or who lives in Washington all the time):

I'm going to be in DC from Friday until Monday. My flight leaves Monday at noon. The GTA general meeting ends at about noon on Saturday. That leaves 24 hours, which, in my mind at least, could be used to drive to NY and see The Gates in Central Park.

Sure, I may be a big tool (no comments please) but I really want to see this. I imagine that it's the kind of thing that sounds like a good idea (or a bad idea if you're a total philistine) but in practice is amazing. If you live in NY and think I'm wrong, please don't tell me, but I imagine it must be really cool, and even if it's stupid, it's so damn big that everyone will be talking about it for years.

So who's with me? I can change my flight on Monday if that's what it takes. I'll pay for gas. We can sleep in the park wrapped in saffron colored cloth.

Posted by Drew at 09:03 PM | Comments (62) | TrackBack

January 27, 2005

Brain = off

I mailed in my first application this week and have more stuff on the burner, but I'm going through a period of overwhelming apathy. The two most productive things I did today were to watch Harold and Kumar Go to White Castle (Thanks Kelly. It was brilliant. I'll put it in the mail tomorrow.) and beat a level of Lemmings. The rest of the day is just a blur. Oh, and I shaved. And ate waffles. That's all. Brain = goo.

Posted by Drew at 10:18 PM | Comments (106) | TrackBack

January 25, 2005

Queer Eye for the Straight Rabbit

Hannah sent me this link, making my day: SpongeBob receives 'unequivocal welcome' from United Church of Christ. I do want to point out, though, that if UCC is really accepting, they should try to offer Christ's grace to gay, gay Bugs.

Posted by Drew at 10:16 PM | Comments (50) | TrackBack

January 18, 2005

Jobs

Well, I've started to apply for jobs. Or rather, I've started to prepare to apply for jobs. I now have several files on my computer with open resumes, cover letters, breezy e-mails, etc. If you know of someone who would like to hire a misanthropic, ex-teacher, political hack, please let me know. My salary requirements are as follows:

Jobs in which I have to sort out who hit who and which child needs to go to the bathroom really badly and which child is just faking: $1,000,000 / year

Jobs in which I never again have to use the phrase "Shakespeare Buck": will work for food

Posted by Drew at 10:05 PM | Comments (62) | TrackBack

January 12, 2005

OMG OMG OMG!!!

They now have a Craig's List for Memphis!!! Rock on!!

Posted by Drew at 09:20 PM | Comments (12) | TrackBack

January 10, 2005

Rob and Catherine got Married!!

The title says it all. Rob and Catherine are now officially married. It was unspeakably fantastic. Catherine's brothers are great, as are her friends. The ceremony was small and intimate, the food was terrific, the view was amazing, and I got the bed both nights while Bruce was stuck on the couch.

I won't say anything else, as it will cheapen it (everything I touch turns to camp!) but I'll be putting pictures up later.

I hope all of you can have weddings as great as this one. Well, those of you I like anyway.

Posted by Drew at 09:40 PM | Comments (111) | TrackBack

December 31, 2004

So long, 2004. I'll see you in Hell!

When I compare my situation at the start of 2005 to that at the start of 2004, I can notice only one real change: now as I sit in bed, I have new pajamas. I don't want to discount the importance of these pajamas (they're fantastic and have fabulous blue stripes) but other than that, well, not much happened. I mean, things occured, some of which were very nice, but no major life changes. I don't feel any smarter, or wiser, or sexier than I did last year. Older, I suppose, but no sea change. I could go for one of those about now, especially if it involved a lucrative career as a famous essayist at The New Yorker. Or a Beamer.

So screw off, 2004. 2005 is rising like a burning orange sun.

Happy New Year.

Posted by Drew at 11:48 PM | Comments (75) | TrackBack

December 24, 2004

Snow

If you were able to tear yourself away from the fire (and, let's be honest, more West Wing) in the family room you would see this out of my front door. Sure, the south may have the nation in a politcal death grip, but they don't get Christmas Eve like this.

Posted by Drew at 11:32 AM | Comments (65) | TrackBack

December 19, 2004

B-lo

I'm back in Buffalo after an all-to-brief visit to see the Courtney clan in Albany. Good times. Bad weather on the trip, but I wasn't driving, so I just read A Series of Unfortunate Events in the backseat.

Everyone else in the house has a job to attend to tomorrow. Dare I suggest that I spend some time working on my own? Or will I just go to Talking Leaves?

Watched Supersize Me tonight. I now feel badly about my profound addiction to Cherry Coke. And crack.

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The Gates of Paradise

I am sad to say that Blake is no more. On Thursday he didn't come to get his food and on Friday his funeral was held in the backyard. Of the mice, now only Pope remains. Although Pope is a good mouse, and I wish bear him no ill will, Blake will always hold a special place in my heart. Milton passed on this summer so Blake's departure marks the end of the first generation of mice. He was with me through some hard times.

Godspeed, Blake. Godspeed.

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December 14, 2004

Apologies

As you can see, I've been a little slow on updates. (Ok, just let me pretend that you noticed. It makes me feel good.) Yes, my anger and rage from last week did send me into a shame spiral, but no I didn't kill myself. I mean, I tried, but when you try to drink youself to death with Cherry Coke you just get really hyper.

This weekend we had a large TFA party at Ground Zero (no Morgan Freeman sightings, alas) which caused me hate people a lot less. On Sunday, my middle aged lady friends and I went hiking and then went to check out an old cemetary and an ancient Indian mound*.

For the past two days I have been repeatedly asked, "Are you OK?" Apparently I seem a little out of it. I really need this vacation.

* - This was an amazing experience. First of all, it made me want only to live in the country and know the names of the many species of flora. Second, it reminded me that we live in an ancient and complicated place. So much forgotten. So much history and myth.

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December 07, 2004

Happy Hanukkah!

As tonight was the first night of Hanukkah, I decided that it was time to go undercover as a Jew again in the name of (fake) cultural diversity. I drew a menorah and a dreidle on the board and proceeded to tell the story of great victory of the Jews over the Syrian-Greeks in 165 BCE. For the most part, the kids were pretty into it, especially the idea that if they were Jewish, they would get all sorts of extra holidays.

The low point came when I asked the class if any of them knew what Hanukkah was. Most of them just knew it from Rugrats. One particularly bright student told me, "Hanukkah means no one gets left behind." I pointed out that he was thinking not of "Hanukkah" but "Ohana," the word for "family" in Lilo and Stitch. Really, the whole thing is understandable. That little alien does look a lot like David Ben-Gurion.

Anyway, Happy Hanukkah to all. Eight days of presents and now Madonna, too? Jesus, Abraham, you people have all the good stuff in your religion.

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December 02, 2004

Unemployment Beckons

By deciding to teach straight out of college, I effectively bypassed that awkard, post-college, What-Do-You-Do-With-A-B.A.-In-English? phase. Until now.

During my planning period today, I started job searching and realized that I am horrifically underqualified for any kind of real job. For the first time, it occurs to me that I may end up either un- or under-employed for a good long while after May. Not having any idea of what I want to do with my life doesn't help either.

I feel like being out of school for two years should bulk up my resume, but two years of teaching middle school is, when push comes to shove, two years of teaching middle school. And not even teaching very well!

Ah, well. There's always my fallback plan: televagelism. (Or vagrancy!)

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November 28, 2004

Back

Thanksgiving was great. Coming back to the delta is still a struggle, which sucks. There are many, many things I like about this place (really!) but I still dread getting on the plane to come back. Perhaps I should stop booking flights that require me to get up at three in the morning. That might have something to do with it.

I have to get some work done for school tomorrow (ie- figure out what I'm doing between now and Christmas) and then get to bed.

Harry Potter is awesome awesome awesome. In case you wanted to know what I did while at home.

Three weeks of school! If I can figure out how to make some sort of countdown, I'll do that.

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November 18, 2004

Georgetown

Today I interviewed someone for GU. It was boring. Made me miss DC more than usual.

For some reason I've been feeling a desperate need for beer at The Big Hunt. The craving usually hits midway through third period.

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November 16, 2004

I am a consumer whore!

Well, it finally happened: I purchased a cell phone. The final straw was when my mother, (my own mother!) called me "miserly" for not wanting to shell out the $39.99 a month (plus $47.28 in fees and taxes) to cingular. Boo. Hiss.

Anyway, I have one now, or, at least, I will have one in 3 to 5 business days.

Those of you who remember my last cell phone may wonder what I plan on using the new one for. Paperweight? Flashlight? Well, doubters, my days of refusing to check my voice mail are over! I no longer fear getting messages for one simple reason: no one in Mask and Bauble will ever call me to open the G-D cave or go to some painful and ill run (by me!) production meeting. Also, I'm a responsible adult now and all that shiz-nit.

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November 15, 2004

Has this been sent to Boing-Boing yet?

This visual thesaurus is the coolest thing I've seen online in some time.

Yep. I'm a dork.

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November 07, 2004

This is why we need a waiting period on handguns . . .

Today was one of those days on which you would go on a mass killing spree if you could muster the energy to sharpen all your knives.

Luckily for the people of Marianna, my apathy outweighed my general "I-hate-the-world" outlook, so I went to Wal-mart instead and bought a shirt and some dry erase markers.

I was going to do a rundown of the day's political news (Karl Rove = the Devil) but I'll skip all the bad stuff and just point out that Hillary Clinton is apparently getting suited up for battle.

As much as I love Hillary, I can't say that I think this is an entirely good idea. She'd be an amazing president, but I'm not sure she'd be a very good candiate. I know I shouldn't say such things, but I really would like to win this time, or at least get close. What kind of person could unite the country under a progressive vision for America? Only one man.

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November 06, 2004

I want a famous face!

People often ask me what I'm doing next year. "Staying here and continuing to teach and motivate young people to learn and do their very best," I usually say. Then I laugh and pour myself another gin and tonic.

Haha. No really. Now that the American people have spoken (and shouted in near unison: "I want cake!" while drooling on their overalls) there aren't a ton of jobs available to young liberal political hacks. That's why I'm applying for The Real World. See, I have a plan. I want to return to the glory days of reality TV, when you could be proud to be on there. Now, it's just dealers and hos. Dealers and hos, man.

I checked out the MTV casting call site, and was faced with the following questions:
"Do you ever want to contact the dead?"
"Are you a young Latina caught between two cultures?"
"Do you live in a trailer park with your family?"
and (my favorite) "Have you felt the harsh consequences of having a friend or a family member sent back to Cambodia?"

Sadly, I can't answer yes to any of these questions. I thought about applying for the last one, but then decided that Bruce's study abroad in Australia probably wasn't close enough.

I was just about to give up hope, when I saw "Do you live in the world's most boring town?"

"Hallelujia!" I cried. "Moving to Arkansas is finally paying off!"

I was all ready to let them know about my radical MTV style suggestions for how this town could be improved (Keep the library open later! Provide us with some decent organic tea!) when I realized that any town which is as fucked up as this one couldn't possibly be described as "boring." Sure, eggs get thrown at our door and my students keep getting pregnant, but at least it's interesting. I mean we're up to three restaurants now!

My faith in Marianna restored, I chose to forgo any more debate as to my future ambitions. Instead, I plan on spending the rest of the evening knocking back cocktails and figuring out whether or not failing to get my lesson plans done on time could get me sent back to Cambodia.

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October 17, 2004

Hey! You're that Irish guy from The Shawshank Redemption!

Yesterday was Professional Saturday, Teach for America's monthly meeting at which we all gather and pretend to have some miniscule sense of professionalism. Ha!

Anyway, afterwards I went on many adventures with Hannah, Kelly, and Brandon Winchester. A good time was had by all. Sadly I don't have time to tell you about all the drunken debauchery, raving lunacy, and crime busting that went on. All I have time to tell you is that I saw Morgan Freeman. I also saw a woman who looked a lot like Laura Bush, but, dude, Morgan Freeman! He was in a movie with Ashley Judd! Many movies actually!!

Morgan (after having laid eyes upon him, I feel comfortable calling him by his first name) owns Groundzero Blues Club in Clarksdale. Ground zero is notable for several reasons: (1) They are open after dark, unlike most of the delta, (2) they have beer and music, and (3) did I mention that Morgan Freeman owns the place?! He knows Ashley Judd!! Judd!!!

Sure, I'm excited now, but last night I was the picture of cool. So cool that I now have to go to court about some stupid "restraining order." What a loser!

Anyway, a good time was had. We got to write our names on the wall. Also, lots of nonsensical blathering. It's hard to stop Kelly once she gets her hands on a permenant marker.

MORGAN FREEMAN!!! ASHLEY JUDD!!!!

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October 11, 2004

I'm Back

Yes, I'm back. I know you all missed me. [Pause. Silence. Crickets chirp. A tumbleweed rolls past.]

Anyway, I'm back in Arkansas, the land of the free and the home of the uneducated, underemployed rednecks. And me.

Boston was kind of terrific. I'm going to bed, but suffice it to say that my family continues to impress me. I was seriosly considering moving back to Boston instead of DC come May until I realized that I have no idea what I'd do there. Eh. It's never stopped me before. It will be nice to be back in the northeast.

My grandfather's 80th birthday was a smashing success (I'd like to be in his position in another 57 years.) I also recieved my first book dedication from my cousin Annie. She created a book of questions for my classroom library which includes such doozies as "True or False: America has more than 20 states." I only fear that my students may not answer correctly.

Finally, I'd like to point out that how good I was at following the "No Politics" rule all weekend. I have a suspician that other members of the family called it the "Drew Rule" when I wasn't around.

Wow. This blog is reaching new heights of boringness. I promise I'll revert to off-color jibes at the Bush campaign again tomorrow.

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October 08, 2004

Dude, where's my pointless blog?

I'm out of town this weekend. It's my grandfather's 80th birthday, so I'll be in Boston celebrating, and probably getting a gay wedding while I'm there. I mean, it is Massachusettes after all.

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October 06, 2004

Dude

I have nothing to say today. Why don't you read this article on why The Real World is no longer any good (A- Yes, I said "no longer." Seasons 1-4, and 9 ruled! B- Yes, I have totally been watching.)

And let me also point out this article on the GOP South Carolina US Senate Candidate who says single pregnant women shouldn't be public school teachers. And don't even get him started on the gays!

While we're at it, here's another article in which Tom Delay gets admonished by the House Ethics Committee for the second time this week. If this happened to a Democrat, there'd be hell to pay. But since Delay being an immoral, criminal thug is old news, the media probably won't do too much. Welcome to the GOP! (Somewhere Dwight Eisenhower is spinning in his grave.)

And a question for discussion: Can I wear red pants? What if I mean to be ironic? What if they're on sale?

Stay beautiful, people.

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October 03, 2004

What does John Kerry need to win this election? More KIPP-style chants!

Allow me to point out that KIPP is the greatest school idea ever and makes me optimistic for America and ashamed of my own ineptitude in equal measure.

Yesterday I was excited to attend the voter registration rally in Helena. It was, in a single word, superultrafantabulous. Not only did the KIPPsters make me want to vote through their spirited chanting, the SFC (Steppers for Christ) made me want to give my soul to Jesus. Briefly. Something like 25 new voters were registered, which would warm the cockles of my heart if I wasn't the cranky bastard into which Lee County has transformed me.

Cranky-bastardness aside, there was a speaker from SNCC who told us about the 55 days he spent on death row in Mississippi for registering voters in the 1960s. I think, in his honor, if you don't vote in this election, I will kill you. No offense, but the idea that people can't wait in a ten minute line to do what this guy almost died for kind of makes me sick. So vote or die, baby.

After this, I drove down to Greenvill to see Chong-Hao who was in town for the day. It was nice. Good food. Good people. Good conversation. Good times. Long drive. It's nice to know that at least a few people in Texas don't suck.

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October 02, 2004

Subject to Debate

School today hit a new low when I told a student, "Fine. You win. You are being so rude that I just don't care anymore. Here's a pass to your next class. Go. Go. Go." Score one for maturity.

After school I went to a great potluck in Helena where, as usual, I dispensed with the scary "strangers" and hung out with Hannah and Kelly. They raise an interesting question: If you could have a pocket sized person (a la Ringo Starr in Shining Time Station) who would that person be?

Although I orginally supported Hannah's choice of John Stewart, I now choose Sister Wendy, Roman Catholic nun and star of her own PBS series on art history. Think about it: gentle moral direction in the model of Jimminy Cricket, art facts for museum tours and cocktail parties, and all small enough to get sealed into an eyeglass case when the opportunity for serious sinning arises. What can I say? I love that nun.

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September 26, 2004

Winners!!!!

Q: Who are the greatest people ever?

A: Sarah and Rob who are the first (non-parent) people to visit me in Arkansas!! They got here tonight after I got back from this weekend's HRC training (more later)(maybe) and I couldn't be more excited. They set out on a cross country journey and now they've reached the true center of the universe, Marianna, Arkansas! Congratulations Sarah and Rob! As a prize, both of them will get to keep whatever I confiscate from my students tomorrow. (Maybe sex bracelets? Come to Arkansas and find out!)

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September 19, 2004

So that's what Lakshmi Singh looks like.

Yesterday was Professional Saturday, the occasionally useful TFA training session in Clarksdale, Mississippi. The meeting itself was uneventful, but being on time made me feel special all day.

Afterwards, several key persons adjorned to Memphis for a potluck (i.e.- tacos and beer.) Despite low turnout, it was a blast. Thanks to Ben and Hannah's insatiable curiosity, though, we shall now no longer be able to believe that NPR personalities are, in fact, supermodels. (Except for Steve Innskeep! Yow!) We also learned that all the Delta's educational problems would already be solved if it weren't for all the braincells we devote to remembering lyrics to animated Disney films. Personally, I think that's a price I'm willing to pay.

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September 18, 2004

No Topic

Today I taught but four classes of students, thanks to school picture day. This made me feel good, since I got an easy day, without a court appearance.

When I got home I had to finish my grading for tomorrow's Professional Saturday. This was not particularly exciting either. Then, as I was typing up the results, I sank into a pit of gluttony, watching MTV for over an hour while eating chips and drinking cherry coke. I feel ill.

Man, I didn't do anything today, did I?

Oh, but I did learn that Lee County had a voter turnout rate of 50% for this year's primary election (compared to 19% statewide.) That's pretty sweet. It's the second highest in Arkansas. Unless you count Prairie County, which had a turnout of 115%. That's not so sweet. Voter fraud or government incompetence? You be the judge.

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September 15, 2004

Take advantage of the polar unicorn

A letter to editor which ran today in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, Arkansas's largest daily paper:

With the world facing the ultimate energy crisis, it is time to take advantage of the unique attributes of the polar unicorn, Unicorniceae arcticus. Though not widely known, the direction of the metabolic chemical processes is revered in the polar unicorn.

Whereas all other animals oxidize food to produce carbon dioxide, water and energy, the polar unicorn extracts carbon dioxide and water from the air and converts it to carbohydrates using cold fusion energy. This makes it possible for this shy animal to flourish in areas that provide no conventional feed. As they don't have to compete with other animals for food, barren stretches of polar regions provide an ideal habitat for them. As seals are much easier prey than galloping equines, unicorns are seldom eaten by polar bears.

I am urging the funding of a bipartisan crash program aimed at using these animals as a source of energy. The more CO2 in the air, the more nutritious it is for the polar unicorn. Other members of the horse family are used for power, so it would seem reasonable to expect them to be easily domesticated. Not only could they be used for transportation, but millions of them could be put on treadmills, generating electricity without need to pay for any fuel or feed.

Polar unicorns are perhaps our most plausible solution to oil depletion and global warming.

DON HIRSCHBERG

Horseshoe Bend

It ran under the headline: "Take advantage of the polar unicorn" but in my view it should have been "The editor of this paper is a dumbass"

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September 07, 2004

Running like hell.

What I like about this picture is (a) it shows Blake and Pope (Pope is the white one; get it?) back at home and (b) it provides an apt metaphor for the human condition.

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September 06, 2004

Back to Normal

Normal being relative of course.

Today was largely spent doing school work and stopping to read my book every ten minutes. I've done an acceptable amount of work so far today. If I can pick up the pace a bit, I should get to bed at a reasonable time. Welcome back to teacher mode: reading my book and going to bed at 10:00 are my main goals in life.

I'm not exactly sure what I'm doing in class tomorrow, but as I just dropped $40 on markers, it will certainly involve color coding.

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September 05, 2004

Lazy Sunday

Today was the kind of day that makes long weekends worth having. What did I accomplish? Not a G-Ded thing! I did, however, stay in my pajamas until past noon reading my book, go swimming at Bear Creek (i.e.- dirty, muddy man-made lake) with first years, eat dinner at 4:00, watch some TV, play with this blog (check out the top!), talk to my parents, and drink half a beer (the other half is on its way down now.) True, I could have done this on any Sunday, but as there is no school tomorrow I did this all WITHOUT ANY GUILT AT ALL!!! This is big news. I was raised Catholic.

All day long I waited for the other shoe to drop, but it hasn't yet. We'll see.

On the downside, my ear is getting swollen again, so I need to get to the local medical clinic, or, as I like to call it, the local anything-can-be-fixed-with-anibiotics dispensery.

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September 04, 2004

We so cool.

Given the opportunity to waste time presented by a three day weekend, Hannah and I today went to (where else?) Memphis. It was a day of culture and adventure:

- making fun of impressionism at the Brooks Museum
- buying the books with the nice covers at Barnes & Noble
- visiting the self-help section and failing to find the book in question
- eating "juicy balls of cream of milk" at the Indian place
- going on a my-mice-came-back-to-me spending spree at PetSmart
- wanting to be an artist at the art store
- searching for ice cream all over the goddamn city
- ending up at the coolest eatery in town -- an eatery way, way too cool for the likes of us

Yes, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. A good day in the city. Blake and Pope really seem to like their new home.

(I also did laundry.)

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September 02, 2004

If you love it let it chew a hole in its cage . . .

Blake and Pope are back!!

Today I finally got some have-a-heart traps to try to get Blake and Pope to love me again. I had just set them all around the house, full of stinky cheese, when where should I see my erstwhile pets, but back in their cage! Hopefully they enjoyed their adventure and will be happy to get back to their old routine. I'm buying a new cage this weekend

It's hard to explain how happy this made me. Sometimes things (little things) turn out ok. How wonderful.

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August 31, 2004

HAVE YOU SEEN THESE MICE??

Ok, technically, Milton is dead (who would not sing for Lycidas / He knew himself to sing), but really all mice look the same. Last week I broke their tank while cleaning it, and today Blake and Pope made a jailbreak. Their temporary plastic crate was no match for Pope's sharp little teeth, so now they're somewhere in my house, or possibly in our yard. I tried to get a have-a-heart trap, but by the time the local baptists had finished proselytizing to us (don't ask) the store was closed. I think they might be gone forever.

Farewell Blake. Farewell Pope. I shall never forget thee!

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