College Romance

Over here I talk about what I think of romance in general. I.e. is chivalry dead and all that crap. Woe is me. But honestly this post is for the ladies (as I slip the coat hanger up her thigh - Stephen Lynch) and for the men who would like to land the ladies. Let’s sum it up in a few rules.

1. You are not fucking Casanova. Say it to yourself. I am in college. College girls like dollar drafts, beer pong champions, and boys with popped collars. Ok. Not so much on the fuckers with popped collars, but dollar drafts and beer pong - solid.

2. College friges should only contain Champagne if it is of the $7.00 Elrige wine and spirits variety. The exception to said rule is if you are celebrating i.e. anniversaries, end of finals, Thursday evening.

3. Bottle of vodka in freezer, Absolut if you want to come across as classy (although this person will know that you have a shitty taste in vodka and you only bought Absolute because it was slightly more expensive than Smirnoff ... Snob) Feel free to keep a bottle of Grey Goose, Ketel, or Belvedere in your dresser for yourself. Same goes if you are going to have whiskey. A bottle of Jack or Jim Beam does you fine.

4. You are not fucking Casanova. Candles and Jazz, no. Candles maybe, but only if your room smells like ass and you need the potpourri (disclaimer: you are not allowed to get caught with candles in McMahon Hall). Jazz? OK maybe for a boy's night you go to LC Jazz then out for a beer, or if you are awesome, you have a beer at LC Jazz. But jazz in the dorms does not equal panty droppage. Period.

5. Do not walk up to a random girl and ask what her opinion is on the US involvement in Opium trafficking in South East Burma. Whilst you may think it is pertinent and hot dinner conversation, at some point we are not going to care. Seriously, same goes true with your opinions on homoerotic tendencies of Greek poets. These are conversation killers. In a specific conversation feel free to pontificate about your Classical language knowledge and the nuances of Reagan's economic policy in South East Asia. When we are debating the hypothetical bout between sea cucumber and starfish, now is not the time.

6. Again, with the Casanova, we get the idea. Don't be the guy who shows up to dollar drafts wearing a blazer, tie, cufflinks, loafers and no socks. That t-shirt and jeans that you had on 2 days ago will do you just fine someone is going to spill beer on your anyways.

7. Kind of specific for the LC man (you know who you are). The old joke was that you would steal your hair products from your girlfriend. Stop with it already. Put down the pomade, and natural conditioning shampoo with lanolin extract. Buy soap cause it washes, use some goddam deodorant, and brush your teeth. If you own some Axe Body spray, give up now; you have so far to catch up that this list would have to be 43 more items long. If you have ever been described by the fairer sex as "shiny" you have a problem.

8. Finally 8, I have ranted about what I thought was not romantic, finally something that is. Being your fucking self. Not being some creepy asshole trying to come across as Benjamin Braddock, the man "old for his years." This is not free license to be a jerk or a slob and it doesn't mean that you have to hang out only at the LP without venturing to Stone Rose, Bar Masa, Vintage, or the Speakeasy. Those are fantastic places to have a one-drink evening with good friends. And if you do decide to take a lady there make sure that you know her, and know her well enough that she is going to enjoy the more intimate atmosphere. It adds more pressure to the whole situation causing everyone to feel like they have to perform more.

An Omission

An addendum to my previous post: this is so hard for me to admit in public, “I am an offender” I have been called shiny, I like my pomade, I do own a blazer (have never worn it to LP), I do have a pink polo whose collar has been popped, I have been known to keep a nice bottle of champagne in the fridge as well as a nice bottle of scotch for those times when it is called for, I have relaxed and smoked a cigar either by myself or with others, and for those that know me I generally am the tool that will bring up the Israeli/Palestinian conflict and interrupt a good evening, and perhaps my largest offender is that I do find it difficult to be myself in front of people, particularly girls. (sigh) well, I guess the first step is admitting I have a problem, and I believe in a higher-power, so I think I just have 10 more steps to go through.

I also want to add that I "rarely" write about specific people here, I do make broad generalizations, and if you find yourself thinking, "that fucker is writing about me" remind yourself that there is no way you are that fucking important that I would write about you (wow that sounds pretty arrogant ... let me revise).

Sometimes we exude little qualities that rub people the wrong way, and rub them the right way. Relationships are a love-hate thing, not an all love or an all hate thing. So if you find yourself reading this and being like, "that fucker is writing about me I am going to kick his ass." Just know that I know jujitsu and have watched the Karate Kid many times, I know the Crane. (there that is better)

Duty Story #440

Writing this is a catharsis for me, it’s nice to know that people read. I was on call last night, but this is not a duty post about crazy stories, but about the two people that came in to get guest passes, they were so polite, there was no tossing ID’s in my direction, they knew who their guests were. As well I had someone come to me after the office hours were closed. Personally I don’t mind at all getting a guest pass for someone after hours, there are enough reasons for people to hate the office that I don’t need to include myself on that list. So in the future you find yourself at 12:30AM and need a guest pass, give me a ring. I’ll hook you up.

This made me wonder why I do this and some on the staff don’t. I think that I have a deep desire to be liked by people, it’s not that I compromise my personal morals for them, but I guess you could say that I compromise the morals of the office. The same is true when doing other staff members favors. Those that helped me out last night when I needed to duck out for rehearsal know that I am forever indebted to them and that I will take their concerns over mine when the time arises. I’ll take their office hours for a day, buy them dinner/drinks, that’s the kind of guy that I am.

What bothers me is that this spirit is not omnipresent on the staff. There are RA’s that refuse to come down after hours to make a pass, those that scold when it is obvious that someone is getting a pass for a friend’s friend, those that won’t switch call because they have that day open, and want to keep it open for “shit’s sake.” The problem is that those are the individuals that make my job hard, sometimes downright scary.

My worst fear in RA world is that one of the residents is going to have a serious problem and not approach their RA about it in fear of getting in trouble. The most harrowing experiences that I have dealt with involved residents that have consumed way too much and have passed out beyond consciousness. If their friends had not felt comfortable coming to RA, realizing that they are over their head, I can honestly say that they would have died. No one wants that on thier conscience.

You know what chaps my ass...

Water skiing without a Johnny Suit chaps my ass. But so does this article. I would ask you to read it before moving on to my response.

Mr. Kikis I would like to get this out in the first sentence and not bury it behind the fold. I think that you are a great guy personally and as a matter of fact empathize with many of your positions. It is a difficult bureaucracy to manage, coordinating facilities, the Duplicating Center, Conference Services, Dorm Security, Central Office staff, the Residential Assistants, the Freshman Mentors, and the Residential Hall Association. Not to mention that on the grand scheme of the university they are under the Student Affairs umbrella covering all of Student Activities and Student Life. Needless too say it is a slow, big ship to steer. I would also like to say that any healthy community needs skepticism and criticism.

Now, onto my criticisms, last time I checked every fine can be appealed, by all means if you signed out your guest and got fined, or even have a legitimate reason as to why the guest was not signed out, there is the given opportunity to appeal that fine. If you were not present when suitemates were smoking in your room and they are willing to concur, please appeal that fine. If you want to call that candle sitting on your dresser a “cylindrical tube of beeswax with a wick” (but not a candle) please appeal that fine (and send a copy of that one to me, because honestly, I would love to read it). And as far as the office keeping your candle, you really aren’t that important, we really don’t want your candle. (Between you and me though, the whole anthropomorphosis of candles? The counseling center is on the second floor, they have drop in hours).

The job description you read when you applied to become a Resident Assistant in 2005 is the one that we all live by. So thank you, from now on know that I only “pose as your life mentor.” We could be colder, give you a form, or four, and have you sit outside to fill them out. I would love to see you organize and move-in approximately 850 residents over a weekend and have it go without a hitch, I honestly wish the office would have given you the chance.

The duplicating center can be reached at 212-636-6048 if you believe there are problems with how the Residential Life Handbook was printed.

If you are paying me to solve your problems, how about a raise? If you think you could do a better job, then please feel free to apply positions in the Central Office sometimes do open unexpectedly and I am sure they could use your expertise.

Had you bothered to read the front-page article you would have realized that the evacuation drill was run so that we could comply with a state statute. However, I have a sneaking suspicion that you were not among the 14 residents who participated in the drill. Just be glad that you were able to get out and go to Starbucks to continue studying for midterms (or whine about ResLife) and you weren’t one of the Resident Assistants, Freshman Mentors, Resident Directors, Security Personnel, or Facilities Personnel that was not given that choice. Thanks for pointing that out.

I would like to think that the RA’s and FM’s are so fantastic because we have learned so much, from Leslie Timoney, John Pinto and the other Security Directors, or Resident Directors present and past, and yes, the Central Office Staff that you so despise.

Since you seem so dead-set in hating the managers of the building that you have chosen to live in I have for you a simple solution: Studio Apt. Doorman, laundry room, exercise room, cats welcome, in the Lincoln Center neighborhood for only $1195 a month + broker’s fee. It’s right there on Craigslist, there’s your solution. Now please, find something else to whine about.

God I love my family

For the record, I love my family, and God Bless my mom. She is coordinating the family pilgrimage home for Thanksgiving and is starting the recon for Christmas. This past week there has been a flurry of E-mails. I think it is best that I share some of the tidbits with some little explanations. Names have been changed to protect the guilty. This is a really long post and probably not that funny I won't be offended if you skip it.

Opening Email from Mom:

I know it is not yet Thanksgiving -- Halloween even! But it is not too early to start thinking about transportation plans and checking for cheaper airfare for Christmas. Uncle K____ is going to probably be in Casper Dec. 20 and leave on the 26th. He is doing Jay's wedding on the 27th of December and for those of you who may not yet know -- he will be in NYC -- not far from K____ all of next Semester!!!!!

Daddy wants to get a real tree in addition to the fake one and maybe do that Saturday after Thanksgiving. He is supposed to be in charge of that excursion. We'll see.

Let me know if you have any ideas for Thanksgiving -- turkey is a given -- what kind of stuffing? what for dessert? the cranberry jello recipe? the pinenut salad?

If we can put together a menu -- I can get all of the ingredients and we can all fix it together. I might see if Thao and Thien want to fix something Vietnamese -- perhaps an hor d'oeuvre (sp?).

The State Swim meet is this weekend -- you might want to give S______ a call.
Love,
MOM

That is pretty basic stuff, I get those E-mails from my mom a couple of times per week. This one was sent to the four of us that are away at college, and it just goes down hill from there.

My older Brother’s Reply:

hors d'oeuvre

not too far off! Anyways, I will be willing to drive people up from denver if you want ... Tell however those known for carrying a princessload of luggage would need to moderate their suitcase (for K____, an advanced outfit triage would be necessary). I think we have our Winter Formal here at the Medical school on Friday the 16th? --- So I could head back on saturday or sunday for christmas. I don't know how long I will be staying in casper ... I think that class starts on the 3rd for me, but S____ and L____ both are going to be in Denver for New Years, so I might try to get back down here to see them (and make some good use of my ski pass and shiny new skis).

All I know is that Turkey sounds fantastic for diner, and any kind of stuffing that excludes baccon is fine by me. I am somewhat partial towards pumpkin pie, but pecan pie also sounds really good. Other than that, I really don't have any suggestions. I probably ought get back to the p-chem of enzyme catalyzed rxns (my god, biochem is fun)

So, I will talk to you later
take care
J__

PS ---- Nobody really likes rascal that much, but a hors d'yorkie sounds disgusting... becareful when soliciting Thien's imput for the appitizers.

Classy, really classy, he had to bring in the Vietnamese eating my sister’s Yorkshire Terrier Rascal (the perennial whipping post). And yes, he did spell Bacon with two “C’s” So I had to let him know:

Seeing as how K___ has the first chance in 4 years to spend his birthday at home some respect is in order. However, he has to get back to nancing around in tights the 2nd of January (who is the hard worker now HAH!)

J__ there is one C in Bacon, although you did manage to spell the fancy word for Canape correctly, we know which one you had to look up :-). What would be awesome if you stuffed a chicken in a duck, then stuffed that into the Turkey, then deepfried the whole thing, They call that "TurDuckEn." On second thought, I don't think that would be on J____'s "I have a new girlfriend and must look svelte" diet. So scratch the TurDuckEn. The pine nut salad sounds fantastic, especially if served with petits haricots verts. Pumpkin Pie sounds awesome, although me ... I love pie, any pie. And as far as appetizers, Rascatard spring rolls sound rather off putting. But I would not be the one too stoop to such low-brow cultural niceities. If Thien must deep-fry Rascal I would be hesitant to come across as offending his culture if I were to object. Just know that on the inside I would be crying.


K___

Ok So I tried to steer the conversation towards not eating Rascal, I tried to no avail. Finally my sister jumps in to defend her pet’s honor.

Hey Hey Hey,

Ummm I like food thats my comment. heh you know me I would cry if you glazed a ham instead of a turkey. And I am going to side with J__ on the pumpkin pie... hmmm how I love it however food is food and I will eat it all the same ;-) As for the "hard workers" you both suck because you are not going to be home on the MOST important day of the year and for that we are not celebrating but rather we are officially fighting... so go send you HAH to some where else :-P And I would like to make it quite clear right here right now there will be no frying of rascal in any way!!!!! K____ you can ask J__ what happens when you cross the line!!!!! Can't wait to be home!!!

Love always,
L____

Of Course it sucks that I miss my sister’s birthday every year. Jan. 7. Damn you school…. The younger brother weighs in finally; he is a thinker and likes to choose his words best.

Don't fret L____, I prefer to rebut shit than to keep it rolling down hill. Now K____; don't you think a ballerina calling out a DIV I athlete on figure consciousness is a little like the pot calling the kettle black? I personally think that the bigger the turkey the better and I agree on the pumpkin pie, but could we do hot blueberry pie too? I would also like to request chile for dinner the night we all get into Casper. It could even be cooked weeks in advance and then thrown on the stove to defrost, that way the spices get to blend even more.

Love,
J___

P.S. K___ if you manage to fit all your outfits into a carry on then you don't have to worry about missing your connections because you were transferring your luggage from plane to plane.

Goddammit that happened once, once, and I never live it down. Ah, you wait to get your punches in Ihateyou! A quick reply was fired off to defend my honor:

MMM Chili, nothing like a good case of ass-fire. I am svelte enough thank you. You are the one wooing the ladies. Blueberry pie sounds awesome. Don't worry, there will be no deepfrying of Rascal of any kind, J__ and I are going to pick up a stray when we are in Denver for the Dog-Rolls.

K____

For record, there will be no picking up of stray dogs to satiate my desire for Vietnamese delicacies. Leave it to my older bro to push the line.

I agree with K___ ... rascal simply wouldn't do, nobody wants to eat grissle and bonemeal ... so I suppose the glimutt (gimpy-limping-mutt) is safe for yet another year. I also agree with J____, chilli sounds good ... and since K____ brought it up, how does a coordinated fart assault on his pillow sound? RED TEAM GO, RED TEAM GO

Seriously though, do you guys want to try to fly into denver for christmas and we can drive up? Not a problem for me. And if any of y'all are worried about loosing a few pounds, let it suffice to say that shitting 14Xday a few times a week is quite effective. However, I have to admit, I don't think there would be nearly the nastolgia for the experience if it happened in the states, so I reccommend that it is tried in some remote south american country.

Well, I am off to run around like a chicken with my head cut off on the frizbee field, and then back to the study of action potentials (ah, it is so wonderful to be studing somthing that requires thinking --- can you believe that a lot of peopel miss anatomy! surgeons (disgusted look on face)).

Take care
PS --- this mindless burke listserve banter is awesome, I think people are looking at me funny because I am laughing out loud in the library as I read these e-mails. I cannot help it though because I can totally imagine everyones tone of voice with their witty remarks (well, in the case of K____ ... dry, ogre-ish sarcasm). Oh, gotta go, I think I pissed off the librarian!

There will be no breaking wind upon my pillow. The suggestion is offensive to say the least. And bringing up the South American Colon Monster (SACM) was just a bit too non-sequitor for me. Once again, I found myself defending my pillows honor.

If you fart on my pillow I will see to it that you have skidmarks on your face in the morning. Consider yourself warned. I will drop trou, and lay a Cleveland steamer on your face.

I don't mind flying into Denver, it seems that my break pretty coincides with J__'s I could see that working, when do L____ and J___ have breaks? I know that J___ is prolly going to want to get back early so he can get back .... with the ladies.... "BOSLEY COME IN! BOSLEY COME IN! THE ANGELS NEED YOU!!!" And as far as L____ may be concerned. Degelman is doing its job.

At this point I am not sure that my mom should still be CC’ed on these missives. Well too late to turn back. Baby sis’ chimed in:

Boys will be boys!

As far as farting on the pillows all I can say is thank god mom had the sense to place the boys down stairs were they belong so I can remain nice and cozy in my bed up stairs, with the sweet smells of plug-ins circulating my room. And if you are going to comment on Rascals smells I can guaruntee they are better than the smells coming out of your asses.

And as for streak marks on the pillows K____ we have got to do something about your colon if you can leave voluntary streak marks on command.... dude you have serious issues.

There will be no eating of Rascal!!!!! There will be no talk of frying him, or saute'ing him (however the hell you spell that) He is too CUTE and loveable to do that!!!

Besides J__ you wouldn't dream of eating the rats you mutalated for two summers, in fact you were proably prety attacthed to some of them... well for the whole 2 hrs that they remained alive that is... lol ok that didn't make sense but hands off the pooch!!!

Anyways, this is how my family communicates. Man, do I look forward to E-mails.

Halloween

Needless to say, Halloween is around the corner. This “holiday” holds a special place in most men’s hearts. It is the perennial holiday where college girls catch no grief for dressing like sluts. Although at Fordham , let’s face it, there are more that would enjoy the sluts of the ass-less chap variety, than the “innocent schoolgirl.” If only I had ass-less chaps….

Not to digress, my Halloweens as a child were interesting. My mom had to design her costumes to fit over a snow-suit. I was the Michelin man more than once (3 times actually). And when I wasn’t selling tires I was Chewbacca, with my siblings fleshing out the rest of the clan. My older brother was Han Solo, he always got the hotties, Joe, “you suck.” My younger brother got to be Luke, and the force is still with him, on top of that he always beat me at swords. John you kick ass. My sister Laura was Leia , and still is a princess. Which left my baby sister to play Yoda, and quite frankly she still is smarter and more kick ass than all of us combined. Of course I got to be the lame ape-man wondering around like a drunk ET cause I couldn’t see out of the mask. But at least I was warm.

This year, I will be babysitting on Halloween. Halloween in the city is different. I get to take this couple’s kids trick-or-treating through their building. And if they behave, we can go to the building next door. I have been told that they are going to go as Batman and Robin. Of course, I capitulated, and Alfred will be escorting these two superheroes on their rounds of mischief, mayhem, and candy gathering. Probably wishing on the inside that he could partake, waddling in a Michelin suit, or stealing his brother’s light saber to take a swing at Han Solo’s head. Someday when I have kids I will look at my little Luke and be like, Luke I am your father, stop throwing snowballs at Leia.

My Perfect Date

On my other blog here I posted about the perfect New York date. I can only write from my experience so by all means there are many examples of a perfect date out there. More posts from me in a few. I need a rest.

Flower Girls of the World

The flower girl: we all have those friends. For some reason they are named after objects, who doesn’t have a friend Rosie, Carney, Redleaf (ok that one is a stretch), but whatever. My friend Rosie hates the flowers with a passion, actually she likes Gladiolas … not sure why I know this (also coincidentally she is a repeate offender, I highly doubt that she is a fan of running miles...). Carney does indeed have an aversion to seedy types. Well, and Redleaf, if you hate Canadians, then we can still be friends. After all, Americans should all be jealous of a nation that has universal healthcare, low murder rates, and a totally craptastic accent, eh? Just wanted to be glad that I am not named after an object, but if I ever get around to spawning mini-me’s expect them to be named “BrusselSprout” & “FlatTire.”

Hilarious

I know this was a long post, but if you get through the end of it this is the response that my brother just sent to my sister. Leave it to my brother to quote Simonides' Epigram. What a fucking smart aleck.

I'm glad that everyone likes the chili idea, but L____ do not feel so safe and secure in your ground level room. As surely as the internescine war of Medieval Europe found an outlet in the crusades, so too will the civil war beneath your feet spill over into other worlds and none will be left untouched by the combined might of the low countries

Go tell the Spartans, stranger passing by,
that here, obedient to their laws, we lie

J____ just know that there are a few of us that knew what the hell you were talking about. And that I think it is pretty awesome that you manage to quote an Epigram and link it to farting, as well as Midieval Europe.

My Home

I am from Wyoming (and I am an addict). Coming from a state with less than half a million people makes you kind of lonely, almost as if you are born into the lonliness. You learn to crave the solitude and not necessarily being alone, but the idea of being alone. New York was such a big culture shock, because let's face it, you can't get away from the city. I have learned how to carve out solitude for myself. It could be as simple as putting on the iPod and heading over to Central Park or a trip to a museum, and head to the crappy wing that has furniture and sitees, no one ever goes there. But that is false lonliness and isolationism. There is one thing that can't be recreated: mountains.




I took these a couple of summers ago when I was backpacking around the Cirque of the Towers area. It quite possibly is one of the most visually stunning areas that I have ever seen. If you ever have the chance to go to Wyoming, get to the mountains, and not those rocks around Jackson Hole, get to the Big Horns and in the Basin. That is where the mountains are.

A Bar Above

Just a simple post about a simple observation. The bar scene here is rough, dark lights, densely packed, and expensive alcohol. This makes it most difficult to have a nice conversation with anyone. However what it does allow for is some crazy-ass dancing and singing Bon Jovi songs at the top of your lungs cause it is loud anyways.

But on to the serious observation. Most bars generally have a naturally occurring isle towards the back where the free passage of people can move from the front of the bar to the back and vice-versa. Now sometimes you may hang out in the walking zone, rest assured that you should most definitely let someone past and be prepared to be interrupted. HOWEVER, there are always the tools that insist in walking through the mass of people in front of the bar. Generally they are wearing the "club" shirt and have enough hair gel to keep Dep in business for years. They always have that meat-head look behind their eyes, you just wish that someone would catch them on fire and their polyester and hair gel go up in "look at me I am a tool"-glory. So the lesson learned is, don't fucking walk through the crowd unless you have too. And do be surprised when your Gotti-look alike ass goes up in flames cause you look like a bad accident borne from the backseat of your daddy's minivan. Better yet, go home, cause that girl that you are hitting on must be two weeks older than 16 and you are making everyone uncomfortable. Just go home.

Another Friday

It has rained all week, literally over the course of the week NYC has gotten close to 8 inches of rain. That is a lot of water. It also makes it all nasty and humid, after walking out of the building into the air it is like someone wipes an armpit across your face. After leaving the awning and walking a block you are drenched. Class seems to be one big blur as of now. I go to class and try to focus, but it is so tough, the mind can only take so much. As well, we have a modern partnering class that is essentially short modern variations that are new each time, so that is taxing on the brain as well. On top of that we have company rehearsal where we are cleaning another duet; needless to say my arms are shot and I still have to make it back for one more Graham class. I just hope tonight that there will be some comfort, good company, and a smooth drink cause the last thing I want to do is trudge from bar to bar in midtown's armpit.

SCOTUS Again

Pres. Bush put out the one and only Harriet Miers to replace Ms. O'Connor on the court. Now aside from her never being a judge, thinking that the President is brilliant and the best governor of Texas, and having a thing for remembering birthdays, she is supposed to be qualified to sit on the bench. I have a healthy dose of skepticism. Thank God, radical cleric Dr. James Dobson of Focus on Family has received confidential information that she is the right woman, and is bonafide. Until now, Oops, looks like he is backing off saying "he would rather take his own life than disrupt the path of Christ." Tell you what when you have the leader of the religious right, the folks going to bat for Terri Schiavo, talking about suicide ... You are pretty fucked.

First Kisses

Everyone remembers their first kiss. Mine was Jenny Garner, it was the 4th grade, we were playing on the playground and she pinned me in the grass and planted a wet one on my face. I think her posse of girl friends dared her to do it. Up until middle school I felt that kissing me was an initiation right, a result of a dare, or the price of a lost bet. It wasn’t until I was getting ready for High School that I experienced my first First Kiss.

I had been “dating” Andy for a couple of months. (Read: being dropped off at the movies by her parents, or being dropped off at her house then picked up by my older brother type dating). If we had gone to the same school we would have had lunch together and held hands in the hallways. It was one of those cute relationships where you learn a lot about yourself and the mechanics of maintaining a relationship. After watching a movie at her house I walked down the block to my brother’s girlfriend’s house to wait for him to take me home. It was nice because he was conventienly dating Andy’s best friend at the time so there were always double dates, and he could drive. I call it my first kiss, because it is the first time that I kissed a girl and my stomach dropped into my shoes and I got goose bumps all along my spine. My ears felt like they were going to drop off my head and my fingers went numb, all at once. Those are what first kisses are. My first First Kiss was all the more memorable because it had a line.

“So this is goodnight for tonight eh?” said I.
“Looks like it, call me tomorrow when you get out of school,” said she.
“Can I ask you a question?” said I.
“Sure,” said she, (and I wiped my palms on my pants, why the fuck do your palms sweat?)
“Do you think I am kissable?” I shit you not I actually said this
“Sure,” she said.
“Prove it.” And we did the slow lean in and kissed. It was hot. I was (still am …) such a dork.

Then there is the second First Kiss. Andy and I are still friends and she still gives me shit for my line. But we didn’t work out, cause we were in the 9th grade, and neither of us wanted to get married, so we decided that it was best to see other people. The second First Kiss was with Jana, Jana was a particularly poor tennis player, but we would always play and I would let her win, usually just enough so she would keep playing with me. It was after a match we were laying on the clay court staring up at the sky, it was night, my parents had turned the court lights off, and there were serious stars. A side-note, I am from Wyoming and out west there are stars, serious, serious, stars a real sight to behold. Anyways, we were on the court and she was saying that it was so nice of me to let her win, I of course, replied that I never let her win that she is getting better at the game. She tells me to “shuddup.” I smile. She looks over and says, “you know what would make this perfect? If you would just kiss me.” God I am such a sucker for a girl with a line… so we kissed, and the stomach dropped, the toes went numb, and I am pretty sure I sprouted chest hair right then and there with the ferocity of the goose bumps.

Then the third First Kiss. CK was my brother’s friend, I took her to the prom because it was two days away and I didn’t have a date. My brother assured me that she was excellent playing the clutch position and wouldn’t turn me down. He was right. I missed dinner, showed up late to the dance, and looked like a wreck, she was totally annoyed. We went to a friend’s house afterwards, swam in the pool and soaked in the hot tub; we ended up crashing on her couch for the evening. A couple weeks later I called her up and asked if she wanted to go to a movie, she accepted and we had a good time. After a couple more innocuous dates we were standing outside and I am going in for the good night hug, it lingers a little bit longer, the stars dim a little bit, and she goes in with the head tilt, and the third First Kiss happens. As happened before I lose control of most bodily functions right there and I am rendered useless.

Since then, no more First Kisses, they are rare to come by. You don’t find them in bars. You don’t find them at Art Galleries. You don’t find them at the Opera or the Ballet. You don’t find them hanging out in Central Park. I am afraid that there is something about New York that sucks the First Kiss out of everyone. I can only hope that I get more than three First Kisses in my lifetime; I am too young to be at the end. My hope is that New York has spared a few of First Kisses in someone somewhere.

Duty Story #286

So I have some pent up bad Karma. The security guard called me at 1:00 AM this morning to see if it was I that posted some signs warning students about residents tossing objects out the window. No fman I didn’t post the signs personally, yes the office did. His reply, “Oh.” Click. Fuck you man. Fuck you right in the ear.

Other than the fat guard it was more or less an easy duty, everything went smoothly, no hang-ups, got some reading done. But there is this one thing, I love it when residents come into the office and stare at you for about 15 seconds, then give you their ID at the end of this pause, then wait.

Finally, I am like, “and…” Surprised (and annoyed?) that I can’t read their mind.

They huff, “could I sign my guest in overnight?”

The inner asshole in me says, “Fuck no you can’t sign in a guest overnight, you can get a guest pass for them though, if you sign someone in they have to be out by 3:30 AM. There is a difference.” This is the type of person that doesn’t go to floor meetings and gets pissed off when they get in trouble for not following something that was thoroughly explained there.

However the polite exterior says “sure, has your guest stayed here before.” Inner monologue, “you could have asked instead of expecting me to read your mind, dipshit.”

Resident’s Reply, “Um I think so.”

Inner monologue, wow whatever the fuck you are smoking
A.) Really kills your short-term memory
B.) Do you have any more?
Really do you forget if you have friends stay over? Or are you that bad at getting a guest pass for your friend’s boyfriend. Cause if you are that bad, wow.

My actual reply, “What’s their last name” (particularly awkward if the guest is staring at me and his hosts answers, next time, just let your guest do the talking, especially if someone else is going to be fucking him or her tonight.) What do you know, they haven’t stayed here before (Mr. Resident, you really should think about scaling back your peyote intake, it is screwing with your memory.) So I go to create a new guest, and retype in their information.

If my inner monologue gets the better of me then I ask for a middle initial and emergency contact number, remind them that their guest is their responsibility, and that security reserves the right to check to make sure that the guest is with the host at all times in the building. Their eyes get big as they download in their pants, hoping I don’t smell, and that I would never follow through with this threat … by the way, I have followed through.

The pass prints, I emboss, remind them to have it verified if the guest isn’t here, and NO YOU DO NOT HAVE TO WEAR IT ON YOUR SHIRT.

So in the future:
“Hi, may I get a guest pass? Here is my ID.”
“Thank you, has your guest stayed here before?”
“Yes he has” (or no he has not)
“His last name is Doe, D-O-E, and his first is John, with an “H” and he will be staying for tonight and tomorrow night”
“Here is your guest pass, make sure to have security verify it when he arrives.”

Now with all the theatre minors (hacks) here at the school you should be able to memorize this little dialogue and there should be no more trouble. I love this job, I only wish that we got some more recognition for how difficult it can be. It wears on me sometimes. Good day, and good luck.

My Friendships

There are those people that cultivate a sense of mystery about them. For whatever reason, they have fantastic outer personality that conveys a deeper center that is protected and guarded. I am attracted to these people, perhaps to a fault. As I take stock of my sense of being, I look back on the relationships that I have had and still have and search for a common thread. The “what is my type?” question screams through my thoughts constantly begging for my attention. If we could figure out what types of people we are genuinely attracted to it would make our lives so much easier, but at the same time less fulfilling because of the lack of diversity in relations that I cultivate. God forbid, what if my type was a friend that manufactures drama in their lives, or live vicariously through celebrities. Could a man survive without going insane?

Perhaps as a justification for attraction to those with deep inner lives is that I feel like I belong to an exclusive club, I know this person better that the people that are merely in orbit around them. I know their inner thoughts and fears. When they are asked what they are afraid of and respond, “snakes,” I can say to myself, “liar, you are afraid of failure/disappointing your parents/monkeys (insert deep topic here).” And no one knows for the better or the worse. There is a bond that is formed when someone makes himself or herself vulnerable to you; these relationships change you and the person. They have lasting effects on how your worldview is oriented. They allow you to perceive the world through a changed reality; they are with you forever.

When one of those relationships changes, you grow apart; you move away, any number of reasons. The effects that the friend left with me are going to stay forever, thank God, if not wouldn’t those times have been a waste? I consider myself so incredibly lucky to have had friends that challenge my ignorance, my perceptions about the world, my own indifference to justice, that look for ways to keep my ego in check.

The difficulty with these types of relationships is not knowing if you changed the other person as well, or if they did all the work to you. It seems as if in every Cosmo mag. (not that I read Cosmo….) they say you will not be able to change your man, you have to accept him for what he is…. yadda yadda yadda. The sinking feeling that I get is I don’t know if I have changed people like they have changed me. Maybe in little ways have I changed them, but I thank my friends for making me the person that I am today. Quite frankly I don’t trust myself to cultivate my sense of being and my worldview, I need others to challenge my perceptions and my prejudices to make me the best person possible. With that I just need to thank those that have made me a better person, you know who you are.

The BBC Office

Not gonna lie, I am a big fan of the BBC's "The Office," I only wish there were funny shows on American television. Perhaps one of the funniest shows is the diversity episode where they bring in some guy to talk to the staff of the company about the importance of having a diverse staff replete with awkward comments from all the higher-ups. Anyone who has ever worked in an office knows these things, and how uncomfortable, lame, and awkward they can be. But this isn't about diversity seminars. It as about meetings. All staffs have meetings, you need them to coordinate your efforts, they are a necessary evil. But only our staff has a meeting about the pre-meeting, and then the pre-meeting, and then there is the meeting. I shit you not, this is completely true. On top of that, Equine-Woman, one of my boss, the mother-likeness of Mugly, arrived late and disheveled to the meeting as her man toy was walking the other way. We proceeded to have the meeting about the pre-meeting. It was one of those here are 3 sheets of paper, why don't we sit down and read them together, cause we can't fucking read. Fuckin-A man.

Duty Story #439

Ok, so not really 439 stories about duty, but there very well could be. For the past two weeks, Leon the night guard has been out of town, on vacation to the Bahamas, so the evening shifts here in the hall have been, interesting. I think that the best analogy would be to think of the wingman finally getting his chance to bait the main woman without taking out the cockblock, it was just nasty, disorganized and fun for no one. Students going down to say that they are locked out, the guard not knowing to page the RA, paging the RD, the RD getting mad at the RA for not getting the page, the RA showing that no page was sent, the RD being mystified, the RA being mystified, the Security guard denying everything. I tell you a vicious cycle. But I guess the lesson that I have learned is to not be on duty when Leon is not around.

Unfortunately what the RA can't avoid is the Hulk of a guard called Mark, anyone that has tried to stumble into the dorm past midnight on any night of the week has to get past Mark. And mark is like a double thickness condom, no sensation, not much fun, and nothing gets through without clearance. He enforces the rules. As well he loves to harass the RAs. We walk past the desk at all hours of the day and night often with our hands full of posters and whatnot, he will still ask us for our ID's scrutinize the picture and look at our face. In short he is an abuser of power, someone who has taken a little bit of authority and run with it to an abusive level. "He does his job," I guess it takes all types to make the system work...

Girls

The deal with Fordham at Lincoln Center is that all of the straight, single guys essentially have three options, they get to play out of their league and date really hot girls because of supply and demand. Or the other option is that they have free reign to be assbandits getting crazy boyband ass. The third option is where I find myself. The place where attention from people just makes me miss her all the more.