It seems that I just haven’t been able to keep this blog updated. I only posted once in the entire month of July. Well this is the third time I have said this I think but I’ll try to do this much more regularly, for my three readers out there. Well Session two of my summer courses is half over, and has been a lot of fun. Astronomy is interesting and our teacher is a hilarious. It’s been fun. Work is getting heavier though. With a night class it’s a little rough, but I am enjoying what I do (today at least). Socially I haven’t been doing that much. Just hanging out with friends and stuff. Carey came down a few weeks ago and I went up to Fredrick a while back then ended up drunk as fuck in College Park. Both were fun. Otherwise the only other thing I’ve been doing is house sitting for a friend of my mom’s. The house was really nice with the expanded cable, the dog was a bit weird (deaf and kind of blind) though. It was a nice break from the parents and all but it killed my going out capability. Anywho more to follow, I am having this grandiose idea that I want to give this blog a format, and not just an occasional update on my life. I’m thinking pop culture related but I have to figure out what exactly. Well that’s all for now, expect to see more of this in the near future, and I not bug me about it at will.
Listening to Untitled 3 by Dove Yellow Swans and Imagine by A Perfect Circle (Ah the weirdness of iPod Shuffle).
On a side note the title of this post is not a song, I just like the phrase. I just googled it and apparently it is a blog and a Magic: The Gathering card but has no significance in music…anyway.
Tuesday, August 1
Friday, July 7
Flamboyant
So I’m back at work. I’ve been broke for a while now and I got my old job WRIT back. So once again I shall be mad stressed and posting more regularly, since it seems that work is the only place I really did before (must be the forced free time). In addition my second summer session starts on Monday. So summer is over now, in July…Whatever I was bored more often than not while unemployed. So I went camping last weekend with Mike, Dave, Ricky and Matt. It was a blast. I’m not very outdoorsy but my good time was fueled by beer and hotdogs cooked on an open fire. This week has been a bit of a blur. I haven’t been doing much of anything really exciting; playing a lot of board games and hanging about with friends. Next week I have to kick it into gear if I want to be at College Park in January. This weekend is the last hurrah for a while so hopefully after I get off work I’ll make the rounds. My Bengali Tiger seems to be settling down nicely on the far shore, his manifest destiny at hand, and I couldn’t be happier for him. On the gossip front there have been a few more developments. The wronged wife has moved out as well and the vile husband is preparing to move in next door. My stomach turns on a regular basis these days, there a few more stories to tell that I think are more disgusting but I have to get back to changing the way all the files face (Corporate America sucks).
Listening to We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful by Morrissey and A Good Day by Smart Went Crazy. The first song is in no way a sign of my jealously towards anyone, its just a really good song. Also I have found my theme song: Flamboyant by The Pet Shop Boys…hence the post title.
Listening to We Hate It When Our Friends Become Successful by Morrissey and A Good Day by Smart Went Crazy. The first song is in no way a sign of my jealously towards anyone, its just a really good song. Also I have found my theme song: Flamboyant by The Pet Shop Boys…hence the post title.
Monday, June 26
Cheating Gets It Faster
So school is almost over. Just three more days of session one. Thank the lord! No more idiocy for at least a few weeks…until session two starts anyway. This weekend was drama-rama filled. The parents are totally insane about the house. They decided tonight, after our basement started to flood, that we would take it off the market. So I guess I will be here for a while longer; at least a year, when they try again next summer. So now I’m completely confused. I have spent the past couple of months trying to divorce myself from the notion that the place I have grown up in for about as long as I can remember is my home. That and the fact that I would no longer be living in the DC area. So now I have 12 more months to get reattached then go through the same thing again! SWEET!
Anyway enough of the self-loathing. Thursday is going to be “Greg & Mike’s Get Drunk and Listen to Music Night.” If anyone can come up with a better or snappier name, I’m all ears. Then its camping somewhere with the guys over the weekend somewhere.
Now on to the juicy stuff. As some of you may know, Mike and a few others have dubbed Potomac the OC of the east coast. I, having gone to school there, see it as a bit of an overstatement but also admit the slight truth of those words. Now contrary to what Dave says I do not live in Potomac. I live in Chevy Chase. A slightly more sane locale not too far away. That was until two weeks ago. Apparently I not only went to school in the east coast OC but I live in the pop-culture equivalent of Wysteria Lane (a desperate housewives reference for the uninitiated). I did not make up what follows but have changed the names for the sake of the children.
There are two houses down the street from me. One is a lovely two story colonial in step with the style of much of the neighborhood. It has a modest yard that is always neatly trimmed and is owned by a French woman we shall can “Rene.” She has two children and was married until recently, when her husband stormed out a few months ago for reasons unknown. Just across the way is the other house in our sordid tale. It is a monstrosity of architecture and an alter to the McMasion. It is owned however by a nice family, three kids and a dog. A seemingly happy marriage between “Joan” and “Lloyd.” Here is where our story turns all the darker gentle readers. I advise those with a moral bone in their body to turn away and await more innocent and lighter posts. But if you persist I shall continue. To understand the story it should be known that the children of these demented souls all know each other and are play-friends around the streets we call home. And so the parents too know each other from the close knit nature of our sleepy burg. Upon arriving home from camp Joan’s daughter began to talk about Rene. Joan took all this as a bit of hero worship, as she was beautiful and mysterious and French. However the conversation with the daughter took an interesting turn when the girl remarked that Rene often frequented the house while Joan was away. But most of all that Rene way Lloyd’s special friend and that the girl was not supposed to “tell mommy about daddy’s friend.” In exchange for her silence the girl was given anything she wanted by Rene. The daughter being only seven had no clue as to what was really going on but I am sure that those who read on past you humble authors disclaimer need no explanation. So in a blind fit of rage our victim, Joan, storms over to her former friend’s house and precedes to beat at the door. To no avail however. She persisted so long that the police arrived on the scene in time to see Joan red faced and crying on the curb having been pulled away from her foe by another neighbor and friend. No charges were filed to my knowledge; however the husband and Rene have not been seen since the altercation. And the reason that Rene’s husband left her a few months ago? She had been cheating on him with these two biker-gang wannabes! Also, the Lloyd and Rene’s “liaisons” all occurred on Joan’s bed! All of which came out a bit later.
Yeah I know, screwed up right? Well if you think that was messed up check in next week for installment two of Desperate Housewives: Chevy Chase Edition.
Listening to: my neighbors and all the gossip floating around… to keep you entertained.
Anyway enough of the self-loathing. Thursday is going to be “Greg & Mike’s Get Drunk and Listen to Music Night.” If anyone can come up with a better or snappier name, I’m all ears. Then its camping somewhere with the guys over the weekend somewhere.
Now on to the juicy stuff. As some of you may know, Mike and a few others have dubbed Potomac the OC of the east coast. I, having gone to school there, see it as a bit of an overstatement but also admit the slight truth of those words. Now contrary to what Dave says I do not live in Potomac. I live in Chevy Chase. A slightly more sane locale not too far away. That was until two weeks ago. Apparently I not only went to school in the east coast OC but I live in the pop-culture equivalent of Wysteria Lane (a desperate housewives reference for the uninitiated). I did not make up what follows but have changed the names for the sake of the children.
There are two houses down the street from me. One is a lovely two story colonial in step with the style of much of the neighborhood. It has a modest yard that is always neatly trimmed and is owned by a French woman we shall can “Rene.” She has two children and was married until recently, when her husband stormed out a few months ago for reasons unknown. Just across the way is the other house in our sordid tale. It is a monstrosity of architecture and an alter to the McMasion. It is owned however by a nice family, three kids and a dog. A seemingly happy marriage between “Joan” and “Lloyd.” Here is where our story turns all the darker gentle readers. I advise those with a moral bone in their body to turn away and await more innocent and lighter posts. But if you persist I shall continue. To understand the story it should be known that the children of these demented souls all know each other and are play-friends around the streets we call home. And so the parents too know each other from the close knit nature of our sleepy burg. Upon arriving home from camp Joan’s daughter began to talk about Rene. Joan took all this as a bit of hero worship, as she was beautiful and mysterious and French. However the conversation with the daughter took an interesting turn when the girl remarked that Rene often frequented the house while Joan was away. But most of all that Rene way Lloyd’s special friend and that the girl was not supposed to “tell mommy about daddy’s friend.” In exchange for her silence the girl was given anything she wanted by Rene. The daughter being only seven had no clue as to what was really going on but I am sure that those who read on past you humble authors disclaimer need no explanation. So in a blind fit of rage our victim, Joan, storms over to her former friend’s house and precedes to beat at the door. To no avail however. She persisted so long that the police arrived on the scene in time to see Joan red faced and crying on the curb having been pulled away from her foe by another neighbor and friend. No charges were filed to my knowledge; however the husband and Rene have not been seen since the altercation. And the reason that Rene’s husband left her a few months ago? She had been cheating on him with these two biker-gang wannabes! Also, the Lloyd and Rene’s “liaisons” all occurred on Joan’s bed! All of which came out a bit later.
Yeah I know, screwed up right? Well if you think that was messed up check in next week for installment two of Desperate Housewives: Chevy Chase Edition.
Listening to: my neighbors and all the gossip floating around… to keep you entertained.
Monday, June 19
File Under "Soft Core Seizures"
Well the month of June has been deliriously short. It is already almost over and I feel as if I haven’t yet had my fill. School has been rolling along at a break-neck pace and my final exams are just around the bend. I haven’t even figured out who I hate and who I sort of don’t detest yet. These mini summer sessions don’t allow the prerequisite time to form those important bonds that, as people keep reminding me, last a lifetime. If I have to associate with the people at Montgomery college for the rest of my life I may just end it all here and now. For example, an anecdote and moral for you all to enjoy.
It was a warm and lovely afternoon about two weeks ago. I was sitting down to what should have been a very interesting History class. That day the discussion was about the role of the supreme court as interpreted by Marshall in the Marbury v. Madison case and it’s apposing argument in the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions. Now if you know me well, you know I love me some activist courts (read: Warren). However I know full well that the argument is better for no judicial review. A great contradiction in our system but anyway. I was hoping for a bit of lively debate. If not with my fellow peers than at least with the teacher, who surprisingly hates all Federal control. So as he launched into the lecture portion of the class the eyes began to glaze. I could see it begin in the back and reach farther up like some virulent form of the bird flu that spreads via political theory being espoused. As the topic turned to the difference between the Federalists and the National Democrats a lone girl raised her hand. I was suitably impressed. Had she managed to hold on. Would see seek to delve into the grand divide of who in fact should govern? Or maybe, on and even deeper level question the very nature of power and it’s implementation as Madison did in Federalist 10? I awaited the question on bated breath (read the cute girl in class might actually be kind of smart…yay!). Finally the instructor acknowledged her. And she asked, and I quote, “Who is John Adams, I’ve never heard of him?”
The teacher went on to explain Adams’ role in the founding of our county…again, and launched back into the regular lecture. He didn’t even flinch or make a face. As if it was nothing, he went plodding along. I sat in shock. Disbelieving that she had said those words. This girl’s first language was English, so there was no cultural divide to play it off. She was rich (a Louis Vinton handbag) so she at least went to a decent public school(though going to a bad one shouldn’t be an excuse) maybe even a private school. Her stupidity baffled me utterly. John Adams is not the most important figure in History. That is to be sure. I don’t even like him all that much. But to have never even heard of him before? It made me sad. This was not the girls fault. The education system had fail her. She would be doomed to her ignorance, never knowing our second president well or the fact that she was woefully unprepared to have a conversation much less work in the fields of the Humanities (I learned latter she was a history major).
As I sat at my desk reflecting over this statement and its impact on me (missing completely the debate of judicial review) I was given new resolve. This would not happen to anyone else. Then I realized that was almost as dumb as what that poor girl had just said. So I made a new resolve. To be a teacher and not let anyone fall through the cracks. I had already made this resolve, so in another augmentation I decided that for a time at least I would teach in the public school system. I realize that my naïveté and energetic approach will quickly vanish in the face of drastic poverty, ignorance, and lethargy, but if I can shape one mind, give one person the gift that I was given (a good education), teach one person who John Adams is before college for God’s Sake, I think I will have made a deference. As Shah would say “affect society for the better.” This may be my elitist brand of socialism but I think I just might pull it off.
Okay rant complete. I hope you enjoyed it. So on to the more pressing matters at hand. Shah is leaving me forever tomorrow. He sets out on a new chapter in the ever fascinating book that is his life, that I have titled “The Bengali Tiger: Brown-skinned and Loving It (An American Tale)” That’s the working title anyway. I love you brother. Have a great time and I’ll hopefully see you again soon. Socially the past few days have been interesting. We went to a party at Ricardo’s house on Friday evening. It was great, I got to play a little Winning Eleven, and drink a bit too much. There was also a two hour conversation with Mike and Shah consecutively about the art movement we started, DAMO, and our theories about art in general. No consensus was reached, which is sort of predictably DAMO. See the links in the previous posts comment section for their interpretations. I’ll give you all mine just as soon as I figure them out exactly. Anyway I’m looking forward to my first weekend in a post-Shah world. Mike and I should be heading up to “The Reading City” some time this weekend to allow me to connect all the stories to some faces. Otherwise it’s a world-cup filled week, which will hopefully allow me to see a few interesting games. Now on to homework and a little light MySpace stalking…
Listening to Kyrie by Flowers In The Attic and Kyrie (from the Requiem Mass) by Mozart (oddly they sound nothing alike…)
It was a warm and lovely afternoon about two weeks ago. I was sitting down to what should have been a very interesting History class. That day the discussion was about the role of the supreme court as interpreted by Marshall in the Marbury v. Madison case and it’s apposing argument in the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions. Now if you know me well, you know I love me some activist courts (read: Warren). However I know full well that the argument is better for no judicial review. A great contradiction in our system but anyway. I was hoping for a bit of lively debate. If not with my fellow peers than at least with the teacher, who surprisingly hates all Federal control. So as he launched into the lecture portion of the class the eyes began to glaze. I could see it begin in the back and reach farther up like some virulent form of the bird flu that spreads via political theory being espoused. As the topic turned to the difference between the Federalists and the National Democrats a lone girl raised her hand. I was suitably impressed. Had she managed to hold on. Would see seek to delve into the grand divide of who in fact should govern? Or maybe, on and even deeper level question the very nature of power and it’s implementation as Madison did in Federalist 10? I awaited the question on bated breath (read the cute girl in class might actually be kind of smart…yay!). Finally the instructor acknowledged her. And she asked, and I quote, “Who is John Adams, I’ve never heard of him?”
The teacher went on to explain Adams’ role in the founding of our county…again, and launched back into the regular lecture. He didn’t even flinch or make a face. As if it was nothing, he went plodding along. I sat in shock. Disbelieving that she had said those words. This girl’s first language was English, so there was no cultural divide to play it off. She was rich (a Louis Vinton handbag) so she at least went to a decent public school(though going to a bad one shouldn’t be an excuse) maybe even a private school. Her stupidity baffled me utterly. John Adams is not the most important figure in History. That is to be sure. I don’t even like him all that much. But to have never even heard of him before? It made me sad. This was not the girls fault. The education system had fail her. She would be doomed to her ignorance, never knowing our second president well or the fact that she was woefully unprepared to have a conversation much less work in the fields of the Humanities (I learned latter she was a history major).
As I sat at my desk reflecting over this statement and its impact on me (missing completely the debate of judicial review) I was given new resolve. This would not happen to anyone else. Then I realized that was almost as dumb as what that poor girl had just said. So I made a new resolve. To be a teacher and not let anyone fall through the cracks. I had already made this resolve, so in another augmentation I decided that for a time at least I would teach in the public school system. I realize that my naïveté and energetic approach will quickly vanish in the face of drastic poverty, ignorance, and lethargy, but if I can shape one mind, give one person the gift that I was given (a good education), teach one person who John Adams is before college for God’s Sake, I think I will have made a deference. As Shah would say “affect society for the better.” This may be my elitist brand of socialism but I think I just might pull it off.
Okay rant complete. I hope you enjoyed it. So on to the more pressing matters at hand. Shah is leaving me forever tomorrow. He sets out on a new chapter in the ever fascinating book that is his life, that I have titled “The Bengali Tiger: Brown-skinned and Loving It (An American Tale)” That’s the working title anyway. I love you brother. Have a great time and I’ll hopefully see you again soon. Socially the past few days have been interesting. We went to a party at Ricardo’s house on Friday evening. It was great, I got to play a little Winning Eleven, and drink a bit too much. There was also a two hour conversation with Mike and Shah consecutively about the art movement we started, DAMO, and our theories about art in general. No consensus was reached, which is sort of predictably DAMO. See the links in the previous posts comment section for their interpretations. I’ll give you all mine just as soon as I figure them out exactly. Anyway I’m looking forward to my first weekend in a post-Shah world. Mike and I should be heading up to “The Reading City” some time this weekend to allow me to connect all the stories to some faces. Otherwise it’s a world-cup filled week, which will hopefully allow me to see a few interesting games. Now on to homework and a little light MySpace stalking…
Listening to Kyrie by Flowers In The Attic and Kyrie (from the Requiem Mass) by Mozart (oddly they sound nothing alike…)
Monday, June 5
More Than A Life Away
Well its been a while…Um right now I cant remember exactly what I’ve been up to in great detail. I have stopped working and am taking class this summer. So busy with that. Not a lot else, really. Hanging with friends and enjoying a work free schedule. Except not because I’m quite broke…Ah well. Anywho there wasn’t anything to this post. So I’ll leave off with my excitement for Thursday. Shah goodness, which I have been having withdrawals from, all and all, hopefully a good weekend. Back to homework…
Listening to Celestial by Brisky, Northern Lights by Smith & Pledger
And Guarana by Marc Marberg
Listening to Celestial by Brisky, Northern Lights by Smith & Pledger
And Guarana by Marc Marberg
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