Sunday, April 23, 2006

EEEEEEYEDDDiot Rain.

Not a lot to report from the blogverse - rainy New England Sunday, so no Ultimate today, Spring Hat or Roid-wise. Boo-urns. Kate came over last night and we watched Mr. and Mrs. Smith which does not warrant reviewing. Oh, wait, here's the review. In one line:

Stupid. Entertaining. Unrealistic bad guy shooting ability. Stupid innuendo throughout. Angelina: Hot. Brad: "a little skinny."

That about covers it, actually. I will fully admit that Angelina Jolie merits all kinds of Nyet Jones seals of approval in the brunette dream girl department, so the entire flick had that going for it. But then I thought of the vial of blood of Billy's she used to wear around, and then I thought of Drusilla, and got weirded out by the amount of brunette vampire dream-girls I'm carrying in the catalog these days. So that was a definite minus. Plus, really, try as you might to avoid the magazines at the checkout line, you can't help but picture Jennifer Aniston going OCD, putting the sexy dance scenes from the DVD on repeat and doing her TaeBo or something while screaming obscenities. Actually, that may be the best part of the movie, imagining Jennifer "Oh, what's that honey? You have to stay late at work again? Just you and Angelina? Okay, I won't wait up." And beyond that, you kinda have to imagine Brad Pitt looking in the mirror every morning, winking and muttering something like "what up, playa?" as he looks down and sees Scarlett Johansen next on his checklist of world's hottest blonde / brunette / redhead.

So yes, like all great works of art, Mr. and Mrs. Smith can not be appreciated outside of its social and thoroughly important context. Now that the review is over, we can go about our lives in a non-Mark McGrath fashion.

But before that - my mom dropped this hilarious line on the phone a couple of days ago:

"I don't get it - why are Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise all over the news? They're idiots! Who cares about the baby? That happens a million times a day! That celebrity stuff is just garbage. So, did you see what happened on American Idol last night?"

Why, no. No I didn't.

Just kidding Mom - I just call 'em like I heard 'em. No offense intended. But you have to admit, that's quality stuff. Maybe not quite as quality as this line uttered by one of my Walnuts this week:

"Wait, hold on - is this word spellt right?"

Somewhere, Winona Ryder is saying, "I know it when I see it!!!!"

So yeah, another lazy Sunday afternoon and then back to the trigonometric trenches. Maybe someday, if someone reminds me, I will post the story about my Friday at work, which involved a significant amount of Schadenfreude-based comedy, but also resulted in my students being very appreciative of my efforts, which is always cool. I mean, I'm as big of a fan on struggling against the predictably unrewarding abyss as the next guy, but it doesn't mean I don't get my pathetically human heartstrings tugged when kids say thanks.

Oh, and in case you missed it on site news, I wrote a review of Blood on the Tracks which may or may not suck; pleaselet me know. I also started my novel The Posthumous Challenge this weekend and the intro definitely sucks, so i need to go to the outline board and hammer some stuff out before I go back to it. Will keep you posted. So to speak.

CTRL-S. CTRL-SHIFT-U.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Rainy Day Women #12 & 35

First off, duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh...duh-duh. Happy birthday to Zach Geller, awesome friend from my stint with the E-men cult. He turns, I believe, 25. Or 5 squared, as Liz the Bishop and others might notice. Let the golden age begin.

If you are ever in a dark alley, about to be killed by a raving lunatic who will only let you go if you can call someone who knows their sine and cosine values, I highly recommend NOT calling anyone I know. Let's leave it at that.

Came home, weights and 5 miles on the road. I am attempting to get in shape, and have been feeling grossly overweight since this winter. The scales at the gym indicate that I am approx. +15 on my playing weight. So we'll have to take care of that. Boo-urns.

On a positive note, I am always through the "A's" of my music review project. So 2026 still looks reasonable.

In a sad move, I am boycotting the O.C. from here on out. The second Marissa foray into alcoholism slammed the door shut for me. Sorry, Seth et al. It was a good run. Or more exactly, it was a good first 10 episodes, followed by sporadic good moments, interlaced with idiocy. I would point the necessary finger at whoever hired Oliver. Egad, man.

Other news: I'm giving Blood on the Tracks a thorough re-review. Anything that gets routinely dropped in the top 20 OAT deserves review. Not that I'm not aware that the RS crew has something of a Bob fetish. But that's cool.

I shudder to think that since this started at a somewhat arbitrary cycle of my pop appreciation, everyone's going to think I'm a Dylan and Hornby fanatic who likes to watch old movies commenting on the futility of the industrial / consumer age. Because that would be way, way off.

Aaron got to see Neko Case in concert the other day. Lucky dude. I saw her perform with the NP at the Roxy in Boston last fall; it was fairly mind-blowing, despite the eerie alone-in-the-crowd senstation that I got. That might make for a good musing someday. Or a musing, anyways.

On another plus, someone may be delivering the lecture for me tomorrow. I win.

Guitar lesson tomorrow. I shall push for a new song.

Week.

End.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

The Wrath.

A subpleasant day - let's just go with some anonymous academic dishonesty and some rather ill-informed-as-to-the-values-of-sin-and-cosine-of-two-pi Walnuts as the cause. So the wrath was born. A little bit of smack down layage as I threatened los kiddos with a "pop" quiz tomorrow. This is a decidedly pragmatic maneuver, as I have to do *something* to get them to learn the stupid values by the end of the semester, and apparently using them on a day in day out basis doesn't cut it anymore. Wahoo.

But seriously - I was very angry today with them, and probably for the first time this year I let them know it in class, giving a good ol' "I'm disappointed" and "this really isn't acceptable" routine. And then on top of that the entire department was frustrated - I think we're all running into a bit of the wall of spring (for lack of a better term). Senioritis and stressed out performers - it's a lovely combo.

On the plus side, I channeled the wrath and went for a track work out this PM. I am doing okay in-shape wise but feel a little too heavy for this time of year and I feel like joints are hurting worse than is actually called for. Hopefully this will clear up before too long.

The W.D. had an appt. with the dermatologist yesterday - he thinks she stuck her face in a mosquito / wasp / ant mass at some point last week and is having a hypersensitivity rxn. Her nose is very swollen and completely rubbed raw, making it look like a piece of burnt sausage. She's wearing an e-collar 24-7 and is fairly miserable - doc put her on prednisone and abx for the next week and 2 weeks, resp. Poor, poor Wigwee, but chances are she should clear up within the next week or so. Still, it's pretty terrible looking, and she is a miserable kid around the apartment these days.

Talked my dad through his very first iTunes purchase today. There goes the inheritence.

And hope Mom and Dad and Jules are doing okay in S.A. - a very rough day yesterday, to say the least.

Lotsa lotsa Dylan today - reading Studio A, a collection of essays / articles / poems about him, and listened rather extensively to Blood on the Tracks. Good stuff, I already liked that album, but I think i am developing a coffee-esque taste for it. EEEEEyedeeeeuuuuuht Wind. And such.

Oh, and in other news - grabbed a 2mm pick and played the hell out of my guitar today; I think I dig on the thicker pick better than the .71 pinkies I've been using. So that's cool, and I nailed down another song today. Good times.

Alright, off I go, like a bird that flew, or... yeah.

Sunday, April 16, 2006

Disc, Iguchi, Bob

Another win on the ever exciting BUDA Ultimate field, featuring a whole lot of craptastic, wind-blown Ultimate. We were on top and stayed on top of the war of attrition from the beginning, but it really was a little sickening - just loads and loads of awful turns, and even if you're a half-way sensible player, you realize quickly that punting it is the best strategy, given the circumstances, a whole lot of the time, turning you too into a turnover factory. Just to give you a general concept of the quality-level, the last pull of the day landed in the endzone - their own endzone. Which raises the "what happens if you catch that?" question, one I hope will never actually be answered.

Parentals, Aaron and Ellises are celebrating Easter down in SA by, at last check, eating Chinese food. Huh? Eggs, chicks, bunnies, spring and Asian cuisine. Yep, pretty much... I came home to grade tests (meh) (performance-wise, that is) and then watched a ludicrously boring half of NBA basketball (Lakers v. Suns, and it turns out Kobe shoots. A LOT.). And now it's here. Liz just called, she's doing well and rumor has it the Bishops have a new puppy. Marathon and Patriots' Day are tomorrow, so short day at work and then I'll hopefully get to hang out and watch some baseball.

Baseball - speaking of - I fed the upstairs neighbors cats this weekend (you can't buy entertaining narratives like this!) and took a moment to watch some Sportscenter. Iguchi, the second baseman for the White Sox, made one of the sickest plays I have seen in quite some time. Here's the video, and here's a photo:



Ridiculous! Dude comes charging in on a bouncer up the middle, lays out into a catch and from beyond horizontal zings it to first for the out. Oh, and as a complete side note, this was in a 4-2 game with a man on in the 9th. Insane-o.

And for posterity, here's the setlist from the Dylan show the other night...

Bob Dylan
2006.04.14
Municipal Auditorium, San Antonio, Texas

Set: Maggie's Farm, She Belongs To Me, Lonesome Day Blues, Queen Jane Approximately, 'Til I Fell In Love With You, It's Alright Ma (I'm Only Bleeding), Don't Think Twice It's All Right, Highway 61 Revisited, Every Grain Of Sand, Cold Irons Bound, Girl From The North Country, High Water (For Charley Patton)

Encore: Like A Rolling Stone, All Along The Watchtower

Friday, April 14, 2006

Tests, seders, Bobby Z, and the end of an era.

Tests and quizzes for the trigees today, plus I subbed in for Win's Algebra II clss which went relatively well. We learned about exponents, and apparently I look like a cross between Ben Still and Ben Affleck. Christine Taylor and Jennifer Garner, whoever calls first wins the prize. Me. Blue Steel.

Cancelled the night w/ le e-boys because all them crazy Jewish folk be celebrating Passover tonight with seders at their respective homes. And Verbs had to leave early, so it would've quickly turned into a man-date with Ariel, and hot though he be, I just have something against Brazilians. JK, LOL, Enter. Rescheduled for next week, 4/21, one day after Zach Geller's b-day. Do your best not to laugh at that factoid.

Dad and bro go to see Bobby Z tonight, both concerned that he will have "an off night." I wholeheartedly predict that it is impossible, nowadays, to tell the difference. Between an on and off night, that is. I've heard nothing but good things from people who've seen him live in recent years, so hopefully it will be a good show for 'im and 'em. Eminem. Wow. Never noticed that before. Seriously, hope Bob plays some classics, hope my dad doesn't actually shout "Judas" as he was threatening to do this fine Good Friday, because that joke would be no success at all. Again, JK LOL Enter.

And the end of an era - we watched the Series Finale of Buffy the Vampire Slayer last night. I won't give anything away here plot-wise, gentle readers, but I will say that Season 7 was my least favorite of the bunch. Just seemed like the direction was lost, characters started behaving oddly to move the plot along, easy fixes to monumental problems, annoying extras... you name it. I will say that B.A.S. (that's code, shhhhh!) resolved well, and that Nathan Fillion (aka Malcolm Reynolds) was a total badass.

Buffy, you were a transcendentally excellent show, and the 9.5 months we spent watching your seven years were very well spent. We'll miss you as the centerpiece of our nightly entertainment. And now - on to Angel.

Thursday, April 13, 2006

Poor Wigwee.

Lightning day - tutoring and extra help for trigees all morning, then a flash down 90 to get home in time to grab Wrigs and head to the vet for her vaccines - only Wrigs looked terrible. She has some weird contact dermatitis / burn / bite on her nose, something that baffled and residents and doctors alike. Started off the day as a small swelling and scab on the tip of her nose, and now it's exploded and quite frankly, tumor looking. Part of this is probably due to the fact that it's right on her chops, so there's nothing we can really do to keep her from licking - so it's irritated and relatively disgusting looking. We have her on benadryl for the time being with prednisone as a possible backup option, and it's hard to feel anything other than miserable for her as she waddles around the house in an e-collar. On the plus side, it seems to be bothering her not at all, she's smiling and happy as ever (except for the e-collar). So who knows. She's quickly getting the reputation of Wrigley "Interesting Case" Searl up at Tufts, a pattern I hope ends soon. We'll keep the silent you updated.

Tomorrow the plans is to tutor, teach Win's class, tutor more, give my own test, tutor more, go lift / track and then hang out with the '02 Emen, maybe watch my first baseball of the year. Just read a reasonably downbeat article by Chucky K on the irrelevance of baseball in the Bondsian era that was, per usual, good stuff, but a bit of a downer. I'm on a baseball low, myself, and not exactly sure why, but my fantasy team is utterly hopeless, and I've got no real urge to watch either. My dad briefly mentioned buying the mlb.com video package for me, so I suppose that my spark my interest. The honest thing is that Fever Pitch, review following, deflated me a bit. So we have that.

So the Walnut experience has been a little bit of a downer lately as well, probably because we're in the thick of performances and everyone is over-tired. Plus I found out today that Fran and Win are leaving. Oh yeah, and I'm not getting benefits for the fall. So more shit hanging over my head, in addition to the "I have nothing to do this summer, and btw I don't feel like doing anything either." 'Tis a freaking hilarious disease, this motivation-sapping bit, in that it saps me of the motivation to get over it. It's a vicious cycle.

Thanks, dude.

And thinking of the Nyet Jones experience vis-a-vis this website, I've been ruminating on the fact lately that I am in some kind of epic battle with my frontal lobes, my overly developed frontal lobes, which seem to be constantly keeping me in check, pushing out the love and keeping the jive in its socially acceptable holster. So now that everything resembling excitement about this POS has subsided, and it really is the voice in the void that I think on several psychological levels I wanted it to be, I am gonna go ahead and dial down the frontal lobes for the next paragraph.

Dammit. I can't even do it, it's not nice and I'm a slave to an unwanted conscience, so I'm just going to e-mail it privately to myself. It involves Aaron and his inability to do me a small favor that I've been asking of him since the beginning of the year. It would be very like him to not even know what I'm talking about; let's leave it at that.

Monday, April 10, 2006

Grey skies are gonna clear up. Or something.

Okay, so a solid start to the working week. Beck was ON last night, so I woke up at 5:30 to walk and feed dogs, take out trash, clean up, shower, shave, breakfastand natch, pick out the perfect CD selection for my Monday drive. FTRecord, it was in part So Many Roads by GD, then the Gorillaz, then the Decemberists, then Erlend Oye for the day. Arrived at school through a surprising amount of 6:40 traffic, but got there by 7:20 or thereabouts nonetheless. Prepped for class, re-prepped for Bethany's Calculus, tutored Mark in Algebra II, met w/ Julie re: next year's job, had the calc session with Bethany, got no-showed by Rita (who it turns out is nauseated by her pain meds), read Nick Hornby for a while, taught more proofs to the Walnuts (who were thoroughly baffled by the weekend's homework) and got observed by Ms. Murphy during what I would not call my finest performance, but it wasn't exactly A+ material (I blame the script-writer). Met w/ Ms. Murphy re: my student comments and her observations of my class, drove back home via 90 and 495 in order to stop by the gym and do a solidly intense hour-long workout, came home, walked puppies, showered, went to taylor's house to teach Glycolysis / Kreb's / Oxidative Phosphorylation, came home to catch Beck leaving with kelly to go take WD and Morgan for a walk in the woods, hung out with Sparkle, practiced "Rocky Racoon" for 1/2 an hour, sat down, wrote this.

And THAT is why I don't blog that crap every day. It's incredibly tedious methinks. It was a fairly typical day in a string of typical days. Oh, how we await the atypical / how we shiver with antici...

But seriously, good gym workout, and I'm starving but feel okay. Beck's having car trouble. Who knows what the future will bring! Yippee!

On the plus side, JB on the tube tonight. And there's no time.

I have GOT to start writing.

Sunday, April 9, 2006

More drivel from the repeated victim of drive-by violin serenades.

A big gaping vat of silence from me the past week, probably reflective of the vast vat of meaningless drivel that filled it. How's that for an uplifting opener? Nice beat, can you dance to it? Seriously, Beck is very busy with her Large Animal Rotation (it's a hippo ballerina, no really) and I've been busy enlightening the ill-informed, or, as the case may be, sitting in their presence for an hour at a time. Actually, it was kinda a trying week, despite only lasting 3 working days, as I had a lot of trouble finding the motivation to do much of anything, writing, exercising or otherwise. That's enough on the woe is me front, just let it be publicly known that I am disappointed in my occasional flirtation with an utter lack of creativity. I couldn't have written anything to save my life this week, so it kinda sucked. Them's, as they say, the breaks. Brakes?

Beck and I went out for the unique Central Mass experience of a dinner at Chili's last night which was actually pretty fun. I taught my kids a bunch of proofs in class, earning the praise of "that actually wasn't so terrible" from one of my students. Nothing like the instant gratification of thanks for a job well done here in the teaching industry. Beyond that, it really just kinda lulled it's way by; I feel like it was just an endless string of teaching, eating, sleeping and dog-walking. SOmetimes I talk this way.

Today, Lisa the Laser Gordon came up with the brilliant team name "Arrrrrrr Kelly" for our Pirate-themed Ultimate hat team. I felt compelled to up the ante and include all kinda of unsavory jokes in our in-game and post-game cheers, none of which are brilliant enough to be recorded here. But a good time was had by all; we won 15-6 or so and got some plyos in with the Roid crew. Our hat team also features a ton of people who are all fairly cool and all play pretty well, so clearly the apocalypse is upon us. Seriously though, Arrrr Kelly, consisting of Andre, J-ette, Lisa, Deb, Dave WuTang, Alex, Matt, Joe, Steve, Luke, Elliott, Hannah, Kristi and me, your esteemed narrator, is a force to be careful with around minors. That's all I'm saying.

On yet another side note, I don't really feel like reviewing it, but I watched Hoop Dreams the other day and it just kills, same as the first time. I'm not really so much a fan of knee injuries, but just to see the way everything swings in the balance for those guys on the basis of something as fragile as cartilage - not good. And the terrible / poor homes they're coming from, and that their endpoint dreams of wealth and houses for their mothers really just boil down to the bourgeois everyday mundane - it's sickening, guilt-inducing and tragic all at once. I was also really weirded out by the Spike Lee scene in the middle, where he all but compares them to clowns for others' entertainment, and rants and rails about how it's all about money - at a summer Nike camp no less. Another shot to the uplifting nature of these days, for me anyways.

Sometimes I just hate all aspects. Ya know?

Monday, April 3, 2006

Game on!!!

Ultimate season is underway, yes. Played our first BUDA Spring Hat-League game yesterday with Team 30, a team suspiciously consisting of no fewer than 5 Polaroid players. Hmmmm.... anyhoo, hella windy day, so a game full of the usual BUDA mayhem, not to mention that we were all not exactly in top form (throwaways by me, MAD drops by Lisa and Deb, general badness). OH, but I did have a couple of point blocks and a Callahan goal. FUN! But in Buda, so MEANINGLESS! We went down 8-4 at half but stormed back to tie it at 11 for a double-game point - lay-out D by yours truly on the goal line, then we won the war of attrition and I hit Dave on a schwank backhand cut to win it. Exciting times. Actually, felt really good inshape-wise, though I clearly have a lot of sprinting to do before I get up to snuff. And throws were reasonable given the 30 mph gusting winds. On the minus side, I laid out for a too-far throw by one of our Brandeis teammates (Alex), and face-planted in the endzone. Exciting stuff, and I have the red welt on my forehead to prove it. All in all, I am very sore today. Ouch.

Spent the PM at Jerrel and Lisa's hanging out and watching NBA and various Daily Show clips on TiVo. Then the Dreaded annual Polaroid meeting - and I'll be captaining the hellacious crew this year along with Jerrel. Yee-ha. It was great to see everybody again, per usual, and Tom & Flor's baby Erik is making a strong bid for most ridiculously cute young thing ever (though I think he is still having his butt kicked by Sparkle). Good times, the season should be fun, even though we're gonna be missing some cool folks this year (Joggles, possibly Jay, possibly Cork.... sadness).

SO that's it for the cool weekend. The Walnuts are in NYC right now for Gala, so I have two days off from work. Hopefully I will be productive and either get some writing and/or taxes done. We shall see. But for now, I'm just gonna wallow in my soreness. Ouch, ouch, ouch.

Sunday, April 2, 2006

Gambling on College B-ball and/or Poker is Wrong, Wrong, Wrong.

Awesome Saturday! Goofed around a bit for the morning, called Ben and went and got some disc-tossing in before the thunderstorms rolled in. Good times. Came back and got everything set for poker night at the house (note, this poker night in no way involved the exchange of money, which would be illegal and therefore morally wrong. Instead, we layed for fractions of our souls.). Superfun - Ben, Val, Erin, Tom, Steve, Andrew, the Beck and I attended. We let the bball play in the background (congrats to Florida and UCLA headed to the finals, I'm glad we don't have to hear all the stupid George Mason glass slipper analogies any more, and did I mention that my friend Jon (a Tufts Eman) won about 900 souls with his bracket from the UCLA win? Most excellent) and listened to some tunes (more on that below). NEhoo, Ben was the big winner for the night, Val lost all of her souls, and Beck and I pulled the usual routine where I ended up two souls and she ended down 6 souls. Somewhere, Ethan Hawke is questioning my math...

Even better, I played Jamie's album and Beck managed to sell the extra copy we got to Steve. So Jamie, if you're reading, Beck owes you 10 dollars. And I just want some credit in the next album's liner notes for being your musical pimp, your musical Wheeler, if you will. Seriously, the give people beer and sell them things business model is still successful, if anyone was wondering.

And a short gossipy excerpt: Aaron's school did not advance past the second round of the UIL One-Act competition. So it goes: it turns out the judgment of art is subjective, or something. Who knew? Speaking of, did you hear the one about the honey farmer who went blind after an early Picasso hit him in the face?

Speaking of terrible puns, let it be known that today is the first day of the baseball season, and once again the two Cubs ace pitchers are on the DL, and even without Prior knowledge I'm guessing you Wood know who they are. If the moon ever sits in the seventh house, maybe the Cubs will start a season with, gasp, their entire rotation intact, and some non-chumps in the outfield. We could win 120 games! Now. Buddy Holly is questioning my math.

First game of Spring Hat League in t-minus 5 hours. I am very not in shape, largely thanks to my foot which, incidentally, feels fine after running around with Ben yesterday. So maybe it'll be alright. We'll see. Either way, layouts and such will abound. Guaranteed. Holla. All of those things. I will, natch, let you know how it goes down. And btw, the theme for the league is "Pirates," which is easily the most annoying thing they possibly could have thought up. I eagerly anticipate a season of peg leg, eye patches and things that rhyme with "Arrrrr" jokes. Ultimate: love the game...