Two naked guys!?!?!

I just went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, and we have a geust(s) in the common room. To make sure I could see in the dark, I unplugged the night light from the bathroom and let my eyes adjust.

Mistake.

Apparently there are two people on my fouton right now. One of them is stark naked.

Who are they? I may, or may not know. I am, however, going to try to get up for church tomorrow at 10 a.m., so I have an excuse to find out. If not, I'll be hanging with my man J.C. from 12:15 until about 1 p.m.

Wow!! And I already thought I'd seen crazy tonight.

No title necessary

"We bombed the shit out of them, that's why we call them afghans..."

-- A good friend

Yup. It's been a long time coming, me having internet again that is. Mr. Roadrunner ran his ass out to our apartment today (finally) and fixed our internet, so you can expect some great content in the next 48 hours. There is lots to tell.

--

Song of the day?!? Wilco's "I am trying to break your heart"

The story is true, and so are the names

Go Visit Todd, he's lonely and needs cheering up

I made this site so people could track the drama as it unfolds. Expect daily updates....

Shuffling Stuff

Tonight a friend proclaimed that their defining moment of happiness had occurred. It was described as better than the first communion, becoming an uncle, and even the "first kiss."

Now my real first kiss was from a sultry brunette, and definitley had a lot of magic, so at first I doubted his proclamation. Then I accepted it, realizing that if what he said was true, I should be happy for him. Then I began to think ... what is my happiest moment?

There have been a lot of cool things, prizes, accomplishments, elections, people, friends, family ... but can I pick one ultimate moment? I can tell you the last time I truly smiled (see my first post on this site), but I can't call it my best moment. It was bittersweet at best, I mean, I haven't seen her since.

Then I got to thinking about the big stuff. High school graduation was sad because of Tim (deserving of its own post, sometime in the near future). My last high school concert wasn't happy, I was glad it was done. My last track meet was a dissapointment. I PR'd earlier in the season. Childhood moments? Birthdays?

And that's where I've possibly nailed it. My sixth birthday was my "happiest" moment becuase I was still blissfully unaware. I recieved all the toys I wanted as gifts, everyone -- family and friends -- got along, and I even had a dinosaur cake. How can you top that?

After six? Math in school got hard. Some friends turned into bullies. Heck, things just got progressively worse.

You can't call it innocence lost -- I never lost my innocence. I shed it with the death of a friend. I had to order flowers for the funeral, what I consider to be my first adult act. Childhood was truly lost then.

But six is when it stopped being peaches and cream. Sure there were days after that with peaches, days with cream, and even some with both. But not like before six.

Of course, there's so much ahead, and I could definitley see a good LSAT score, acceptance to a great summer internship, or even finding someone special as topping my current moment.

Although the look all over my brother's face when I spit on the cake was priceless...

---

So Dylan and Jevon arrived (sorry Jevon, you'll be first next time), and so far their move-in has been painless. Earlier this evening I joined Kajsa, Jackie and Reina in the common room, while waiting for the twins. They entered, we quickly hashed out business, (re)picked rooms, and moved some stuff around.

We're still looking for the key to our basement, which Graham hid while drunk. I don't quite understand fully, I also was not present for the incident. I'd like to find the key so I could have my bike.

More on Blair Hornstine -- today I did my tour of the Network Operations Center at Cornell, and Jeff Lehman was there -- he doesn't know anything (sorry if that was anti-climactic, it wouldn't be the first time someone called my finish dull...)

---

Everyone on IM was pretty strange tonight. Most had moving away or packing as their messages, adding in the requisite similey face to show they'd miss all their high school friends. I found myself thinking that was pathetic, but I was later corrected.

After moving Jevon's bed, I returned to my computer to find five IM windows. Four from college friends, but one was from Kate Pulley -- the high school dream girl.

Now don't think me perverted or hopelessly lost in the past. I'm no longer attracted to Kate the way I once was. Also don't confuse this with any flaws she might have, you'd have trouble finding them. She's still blonde, pretty, athletic, and wholesome.

Anyway, the IM reminded me of all the cool people from high school I never get to see anymore. Maybe they're just cool beucase of that fact, but I doubt it. They were cool becuase they were different -- still are. In my mind, those differences mean they're still cool.

Andy Brown, Courtney Bajdas, and Kate are all prime examples of people who make me stop and think. Whenever I hear good clarinet music, see a fiesty woman's guard on the court, or see a blond girl in fleece, I stop and think of those three, respectively. It's the curiosity of it all.

And in truth, I may never know what happens to these people. It's something that I'm not happy about, but I've also come to accept it.

---

I also met Rachel's boyfriend tonight. I know that she wouldn't really care, but I'm going to let her know that I approve. Scott is a really cool guy, and you'll probably read more about him and his booming god-like voice in future posts. I forsee fun evenings, philosophical conversations, and maybe even some good roadtrips...

---

I miss Matt Nagowski. He was a social glue, and without him I haven't run into Phil, or Dan at all (well Dan is admittedly out of town). Still, Matt was truly the hub in our summer social system. Hopefully we can do one more polar bear swim club before it gets too cold.

Blair Hornstine did what?

Apparently she did something to have her admission to Harvard revoked. I don't know too much, but the scuttle butt on the street is that now she's coming to Cornell. If you have any info, please feel free to e-mail me. It'd be highly appreciated.

On the flip side ... I'm back from Buffalo now, and getting ready for school. I found out at work that they've promoted me to "supervisor," which means I don't have to take phone calls and they pay me more. Life is sweet.

Even better is that in a few days Orientation begins, so while I'll have to work more, I'll also make serious bank. You do the math, if I work 10 eight hour days...

I'm light on the updates for now, just beucase life has been sleeping, working, and helping friends move in.

Oh, and spicing things up.

I picked up Donovan McNabb in my fantasy draft, and used he and Eric Moulds as trade bait. The guy I was trading to was an eagles fan, and I'm from Buffalo, so in return I got Drew Bledsoe, Peerless Price, and Jeremy Shockey. Shockey should have a breakout season, and seriously improves my TE position. At the same time, I have Bledsoe, with Kerry Collins on the bench. Both are surrounded by enough weapons to have atleast one emerge as a top QB, and Price should outpace Moulds. He was the better reciever at separating himself and, regardless of Vick's situation, should have a better season than Moulds. Moulds will have to contend with Double teams, and while Josh Reed should be a solid No. 2, I don't think it'll be enough to get Moulds the kind of yards he had last year -- Price was too much of a threat. He's the real deal, and if he takes the next step, I got three goodies for the price of two.

(I'll miss McNabb and Moulds -- Hell I'll probably salivate over what I'm missing -- but I think I came out on top here).

What do you mean Nomar's not Canadian?

Sure the sign read Boston Pizza, but the look of the place was enough to give me some second thoughts.

After our brief stint at the Roulette table, Paul, Bryan and I headed across a sketchy ally to the glowing lights that are Clifton Hill. It's a great place if you've never been there, and includes such things as a planet hollywood, rainforest cafe, donuts and the best thing ever -- Canadian people.

Boston Pizza also had Canadian people, but mainly they were the surly kind. That's right, teenagers who look 17 but are somehow sitting at the bar and having a Blue. Gotta love the Northern Neighbors.

We partook in our own salute to Canada of course by ordering a pitcher of Molson. It's no Blue but it was still Canadian, and last Thursday that was enough. We also ordered two pizzas to kill the appitite. It was sometime between opening the menu and realizing that every girl in the room was jail bait that we came to a horrifying discovery.

It seems that if Canada has one flaw, it's that it can't spell. ESPN's Sports Center magically became "Sports Centre." But this wasn't surprising, I mean not everything Canadian is good. Just look at Alan Thicke (of Growing Pains fame).

If Canada has two flaws, it's that they don't show American football on Sports Centre.

Hell, why not just call it "waste of Space," if you're not going to show NFL highlights? It even fits the Canadian spelling motif by ending in an "e."

We drank the beer more quickly to forget about this, and soon found ourselves needing to visit the rest room. Bryan needed to go the most, but strangely enough his dick seemed to change it's mind when it was called over by a female. Turns out the girl who called him over was from Baldin Wallace, Bryan's school. It also turned out that she and her boyfriend had just parted ways.

Anyway, while Bryan was busy auditioning for season two of MTV's "Who's Got Game" (It's the canadian version -- it ends in an "e"), a slightly inebriated Paul and I tried to find the bathroom.

After running into a dead end, it looked like we might have to hold it till the states. Paul then spotted a possible solution.

"It's down there," he said pointing to a set of stairs.

Of course, Paul was pointing to the Clifton Hill street, and while that kind of behavior might be aceptable in New York City I quickly pointed out that here it would probably only hasten our trip back to the states. He agreed and then we started venturing into the Kid's section of the resturaunt. It was great, but only beucase we found the bathroom.

Afterwards, we walked the strip in search of fried dough. We didn't find any, thus demoting Canada from America's Amusement Park status down to Playground. But I must say, it's still the best damned playground I've ever been to. I mean, neither Cass nor Como park serve donuts or Labatts, which is coincidentally how we ended our evening.

Well that, and Bryan and I made off color remarks during our border crossing. Once again Paul almost pulled an angry parent on us -- threatening to turn the car around and come back there -- all that fun stuff. Bryan and I shut up just in time to act like clean-cut white kids, and the border man let us come back to the States.

All in all, an enjoyable evening and fitting tribute to an equally enjoyable summer.

Pardon the Interruption...

My tale of Canadian wonder will have to wait, I've just hit on a very depressing thought that I need to share.

In two weeks the freshman will move in. They will come wide eyed, bring parents, and stay for anywhere from one semester to one lifetime.

Yet besides all that optimism, they bring something else -- something I fear. They bring an attitude.

Not all, mind you, but the ones I think are worth meeting seem to carry an attitude. Kind of the "I'm too good for you," thing. And just becuase they don't have it now doesn't mean they can't pick it up from their friends. That's what happened with Lisa.

Hell, I was even good enough for Devon until I opened my mouth.

But why?

What changes when you start opening up? Why do people instantly shoot others down beucase of affiliations or creeds? If college is supposed to be about opening doors and expanding your mind, then there are a lot of people at Cornell who don't appear to be getting their monies worth.

Sure, being exclusive is fun, but it gets old. Meeting new people and hearing new stories? That's where it's at, and this orientation week, that's where you'll find me.

Wow...

This is great if you're a fan of the new Bravo Show, Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.

http://www.smalldog.com/wag13345/atdealmacpre

Full bodied Canadian goodness...

So the other night Bryan, Paul, and I ventured North to America's playground -- Canada.

In my original thoughts a week earlier, I had envisioned a whole caravan of us going. Marty, Heufner, Jenny, Schwach, and even people who none of us had seen in forever like Kate Pulley. Of course, while most of the people I knew from high school have remained great friends in my memory, the truth is that most of them appear to give a rats ass about me when I'm home. It's alright, next time I'll call Bryan, Paul, Ed and Mike Sebaaly. We'll have a good time sans the rest (not including those with credible excuses).

But enough bitterness. For their own separate (and a few were credible) reasons, most declined the invitation. In the end, it was the three of us, and it was kind of fitting.

We had all had our own separate experiences, and for them I think we were enriched. Unlike the others who sit around at home 12 months of the year, Bryan, Paul and I all went away to school. We were used to the freedoms of sleeping until 3 without your parents nagging you to cut the grass, eating whatever you wanted, and playing video games until your eyes bled. In short, what separated us also tied us together.

We had tasted Independence, and on Thursday we did so again.

The drive was a bit awkward at first. I settled a bet about me having my license (Bryan won, correctly claiming that I had passed my driver's test before college), we saw Jon Koziol drive by, and had a good laugh about the enigma known only as Huefner -- and that was all before we turned off my street.

The problem was that after that first turn, we started to run out of things to talk about. I asked them a few questions, but the answers were similar. They had seemingly done little worthwhile to talk about while home for the summer.

I on the other hand was different.

For those of you who continue to read this, you probably know that I consider everything an adventure.

So I started with the stories. First was about the guy who came to fix the roof and caught me getting out of the shower.

"I came to fix the roof," he said.

"Well it's outside, isn't it?" I asked.

Then I told them about our Bat, then about our second Bat. Then I talked about how one night we climbed the scaffolding, and polar bear swim club, and meeting Jeremy Schaap. It was great beucase by the time I finished, Paul was hushing me up so we could cross the border.

And that was where the real fun began.

Paul was worried we were going to get stopped, so of course Bryan and I kept making remarks that would have gotten us searched had any one from the border patrol heard us. Paul meanwhile, was trying hard not to have a stroke -- I mean you could see his blood pressure rise as he sat there.

But as always, three white kids with money are never stopped from entering Canada. So we said thank you to the nice Canadian woman and began driving to the park and ride.

Now I always park behind the club when I go to Canada. It's free if you tell them you're going to the club, you don't need to validate, and you're walking distance from the casino. Of course, taking the park and ride was just as great. The scenery, which included a "budgetel -- the motel too cheap for a "ho," was worth the trip alone.

We parked, we rode, we entered fantasyland. The bus to the casino was chock full of old people. It kind of reminded me of Flordia, or water aerobics at the Helen Newman pool. Still, Paul, Bryan and I made our lewd remarks as if we were the only ones on the bus. Shiny objects also distracted us. I got caught up looking at the large television billboards, Paul was busy looking at passing cars, and Bryan was mesmorized by the glare coming off of the head of the guy infront of us.

Which must have affected his casino prowress.

We entered the casino, and I easily glided through security. Paul and Bryan, however, looking like professionals were detained. After some questioning, Paul and Ossama Bin Banach were let through, and we hit the floor.

I, as always, intended on playing the slots. They're colorful, make funny noises, and sometimes give you things in return. They remind me of TV, or even a shiny hooker.

Bryan and Paul had other ideas.

They were headed for the blackjack tables, and me with money to burn was along for the ride. I mean, if they could do it why couldn't I? Of course, the cheap tables were filled, so we loitered for about ten minutes until Bryan decided he would play some roulette.

So I joined him.

He bet $10, so I bet $10. He lost his first ten, and so did I. Then we split ways.

He was soon out after another two rounds, where as I suddenly found myself up $40. Paul came to join us, and since I had announced I was going to be paying for pizza with my winnings, he promptly bet everything he had on Red 33.

"I've got a feeling," he exclaimed.

And so if I've learned one thing from my Canadian trip it's this: don't trust Paul's "feelings." He lost it all, which was bad for Paul, but not so bad for us. Since I also lost my initial $10 bet, I decided it was time to uproot myself from the table and hit up the Pizza place.

But not before a free pop.

You see, the bartenders at the casino serve free non-alcoholic beverages, and far be it from me to pass up a free drink. So taking a leisurely stroll over to my favorite casino bar (it's actually the only one I've ever visited -- once with the Alpha Phi girls, the other time on Thursday), and asked for a coke. Paul joined me, but Bryan scoffed at us. His loss. It was the best coke I ever had.

"It tastes great. It tastes like free," Paul said.

We were about ready to leave when we had a kidwtsahs, or kid I didn't want to see after high school. In this case it was Dan Krebs. Now all night we had been wondering if we would have a kidwtsahs, and sure enough, here it was. Another thing we were wondering is if you can have a kidwtsahs without speaking to the party in question. I volunteered to go over and strike up a conversation if for no other reasons than to A) make Dan uncomfortable by the sheer fact that he had to now talk to me -- a near stranger, and B) to make this an offical kidwtsahs. Paul and Bryan told me it wasn't necessary beucase they'd count it anyway.

With that over, we left the casino and headed over to Boston Pizza, which is another story in itself, so I'll save it for tomrrow.

I leave you with a question: Are you ready for sports centre?

Canada is my favorite state...

Things I have done while home:

1) Called Kate Pulley
2) Played with my little cousins
3) Got a hair cut
4) Visited my favorite state -- Canada (more to come later)

Rocking the LSAT

So I just did about 40 LSAT questions and answered all but two correctly. I gave up watching Old School with the guys to do it, but some sacrifices must be made. If I can keep it up thru October 4th, then I will successfully rock the LSAT.

But Not that anyone really cares...

The "cool" thing of the summer happened yesterday. You know, that thing you call your folks about. For me it was spending some quality time with Jeremy Schaap (Cornell alumnus, 1991, and Daily Sun Editorial Board member during his hay day).

Schaap, who hosts outside the lines nightly, took some time out from his schedule to come back to the Cornell Football Association fundraiser. He, Tony Kornheiser, and Ed Marinaro were all special guests at the banquet. The following is my e-mail depection which went out to the kids I met in LA, the paper's sports e-mail list, and some recent alumni:


"Sunnies, Top Thirty, and other friends,

CFA stands for Cornell Football Association, but before the evening began I thought the "F" might as well have stood for fat.

The Cornell Daily Sun was recently selected by Cornell to receive the annual Bill Mintz media award. I, being the only sports staffer in Ithaca, was asked to attend the dinner and ceremoniously accept on behalf of the Cornell Daily Sun Sports Staff, past and present.

When I arrived tonight, I was taken a back. Where I expected to see tall, strapping (pardon my Gary-esque wording) men with hot wives, I saw none. They were all fat. Ok, there was one, I mean Ed Marinaro was there, but the rest of the guys were just plain fat.

I spent the next twenty minutes trying not to talk to any of them.

Later, while waiting for dinner with our photographer and the representative from sports information, I struck up a conversation. It mentioned in the program that Ben Mintz passed away in 1991, so I assumed the award was relatively new (also why the Daily Sun had never before received it). That's when Jeremy, my pal in sports info coughed up the info that this was the 27th presentation of the award.

Jokingly I asked if the dart had hit us this year, and he told me no.

"You guys had never received it before, which is why we chose you," he said. "That, and we scrapped darts for a pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey-like approach."

Not sure whether I should have felt honored or slighted, I made small talk with our photographer. Then J. Andy Noel, our athletic director showed up. Much to my disappointment, he did not look like FDR. For once, he was wearing neither his wool overcoat or red scarf.

Next some annoying fat guy got up and tried to speak over the crowd. He kind of reminded me of a certain Daily Sun Alumnus.

The dinner itself was better than I had expected, and I'm not just complementing the food. With the exception of M.C. (he was fat, too. Did I mention that?), the rest of the night turned out great.
It all started with our football coach talking about how we should do better than we did last year, but not well enough to win the conference. Next, surprise guest Ken Blanchard (he wrote the one minute manager) got up and told us all how that was a bunch of bull shit and if our coach had a pair, they'd shoot for a perfect season like Don Schula (sp?) and the 1970 era Dolphins.

Then Ed Marinaro got up and told us all how much he hated Ken Blanchard for working with Don Schula. Marinaro's team lost to Schula's Dolphins in Super Bowl VIII. Marinaro completed his speech by trying to add his newborn son to the live auction.

"How about $150? He costs a heck of a lot of money, but I've already paid for all his shots," he said. "Hell, for $200 I'll even throw in his mother."

A guy in the back started to raise his hand, but then his wife hit him. I suppose she wanted to wait until Marinaro threw himself into the deal, too. Either that, or she was waiting to bid on the color commentator's package, which included a chance to broadcast a Cornell football game over the Internet. I know I had at least 25 cents sitting in my pocket for it.

I also had an award on my lap, but it wasn't all mine. Part of it belonged to the guy who took the stage next: Jeremy Schaap.

Schaap, and his father had both done their respective tour of duties with the Daily Sun, and while Schaap might have graduated in 1991, I'm sure that some of the things I've been taught were also taught to (or even by) him. Institutional memory is key at our paper, and I'm thankful for all the people who put their time in before me.

Schaap was on tonight, taking jabs at everyone including Harvard Hockey. But the magic wasn't all Schaap. Alongside him was Tony Kornheiser, who's daughter Liz attends the hotel school here.

The two of them took questions from the crowd, playing off and taking sides just like an episode of PTI. Schaap also took time out to address a very important point: that his ratings with Outside the Lines were higher than Tony's. Tony just laughed it off and hammered on the Yankees with a wit that brought both a tear to my eye and a smile to my face. Overall it was a very impressive show.

(Off the record, the two also noted how Dusty Baker's biggest reason for leaving San Fran was really Barry Bonds. Apparently Bonds isn't well liked in the club house, and Baker has gone as far as to say -- once again off the record -- that any team with Bonds will never win a World Series. It was deep stuff. Kind of like when we all found out that Monica and Chandler from Friends were sleeping together.)

Later Adam (the photog) and I grabbed Schaap. He was more than happy to pose for a photo with our award, and even asked about the new office. I told him I'd show him around if he wanted, and he instantly reached for his phone.

He was going to put my number in his phone -- I almost choked up a nut!

But it was in his jacket back at his table. Before we left, I slipped him a business card so he could call me. I suppose Jeremy Schaap having my number on a card is just as good as him having my number in his phone. Maybe he'll even call from time to time.

Yeah, and maybe Seabiscut will have a sequel.

Anyway, as I found out, the "F" in CFA also stands for something else. It stands for family. There's nothing like seeing four buddies who used to play football bid 5 grand on a pair of giants baseball tickets for a former coach. They easily could have won for less, probably something like $20 seeing how nobody realy likes Barry Bonds anyway. But no. Instead they pulled out their wallets for the cause of the Cornell football program. They helped a bunch of kids who they hardly even know, who from their record don't seem to work hard enough, and don't even seem like they deserve the money.

Like I said, it was just like a family."

The coolest part, though, took place the following day. On Sunday, Schaap actually called me and asked if we could meet up so he and his friends could see the building. I said sure, rolled out of bed and called Adam. In ten minutes we were at the Sun.

Schaap and his friends were all sunnies, and by default very cool people. They poked around the new building, marveled over the woodwork and large room upstairs, spent some time in Nate's office, and then left.

But not before grabbing a freshman issue. Schaap's friend (the AE from 89 to 92) noticed my column, which Schaap then started reading. It was cool to think that he actually read my stuff.

And it's even cooler to get 6 1/2 hours of sleep.

---

My fourth Ithaca Journal article comes out tomorrow. I'm working on my fifth and it's a doosy -- all about how international students can get visas to come to Cornell, becuase Cornell has pull with the state department, while smaller schools can't help their students on that level (i.e., TC3)

A Prelude:

More to come on an evening which included Jeremy Schaap, Ed Marinaro, Tony Kornheiser, Action Phil, Ryan Sarsfeld and Jacko. For right now, all you need to know is this:

http://homepage.mac.com/mrspleen/iMovieTheater6.html