I received a copy of the UMass Alumni magazine in the mail last night. I was again confused as to how UMass found me - how do they know where I live? How do they know that I moved? How do they do it? I read the alumni magazine for the first time ever last month because one of my favorite New York artists was featured on the cover. I was delighted to learn that he was an alumni!
This month featured Bill Pullman and a bunch of micro-articles about polymers.
Most importantly, however, the magazine featured an update on all of the members of the 95-96 men's basketball team, ten years after the team went to the final four.
Ah, the nostalgia.
Now. I don't remember anything from college. The only thing class-related I remember is the professor biting it on the stairs in Bio285. In Hasbrouke? I think.(Sidenote 1: I also remember the codes for classes, such as Chem111 and Psych131.) (Sidenote 2: Bio285 was Molecular Biology of the Cell - that may not have been the exact name - and is the only class from college that became relevant in my professional life - everything else I "learned" in college was superfluous.) (Sidenote 3: it would have been helpful had I learned something other than how to calculate molarity in any of the four chemistry courses I took while in college, because that information is sort of important now and I don't have it.)
I do, however, remember all of the basketball players from that team and the team the year before. Remember "Rigooooooo....."?
And Ross Burns? Hah!
This was an exciting article to read, and not because of the basketball team. Oh no. It was because of a picture of... The Fat Guy!
For those of you who didn't go to UMass or have no concept of UMass basketball during that era, that year was insane. Sports fervor. I hate sports and even I was caught up. I waited in long lines on mornings when it seemed to be twenty below zero to secure tickets to games. I got to games hours early to rush in to get the good seats. I was trampled by crowds. I made a sign when the game was televised. I chanted along with the fans, I wiggled my fingers during foul shots, and most importantly, I cheered when The Fat Guy ran by.
The Fat Guy was literally called The Fat Guy. He was just a crazy fan who showed up to each game with a collection of signs and proceeded to run around The Mullins Center to generate enthusiasm.
Awesome. I haven't thought about The Fat Guy in forever. I'm not that he's ever crossed my mind since graduating.
The only thing that was disappointing about the article was that the picture of The Fat Guy was from the era when The Fat Guy started losing weight. He was still overweight, but not as Fat. Of course we were distressed to witness him wasting away, but it was appropriate given that the team itself began to decline after their year of glory.
Ah, college. It's the non-academic experience that has the most influence.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Responsible
When do things change?
When you're little, everyone says "You can be whatever you want when you grow up! You can do whatever you want! The world is your oyster!" How lucky we are to live in a world of opportunity.
You survive high school and then its off to college, where you remain optimistic and think ahead with enthusiasm. You still naively think that whatever happens will be wonderful!
Then BOOM - ADULTHOOD.
Why is the unknown so terrifying now? When did uncertainty become a source of anxiety instead of a source of excitement?
If it weren't for bills to pay, uncertainty would be appealing.
If it wasn't just me, whatever.
Ugh.
I hate making decisions.
When you're little, everyone says "You can be whatever you want when you grow up! You can do whatever you want! The world is your oyster!" How lucky we are to live in a world of opportunity.
You survive high school and then its off to college, where you remain optimistic and think ahead with enthusiasm. You still naively think that whatever happens will be wonderful!
Then BOOM - ADULTHOOD.
Why is the unknown so terrifying now? When did uncertainty become a source of anxiety instead of a source of excitement?
If it weren't for bills to pay, uncertainty would be appealing.
If it wasn't just me, whatever.
Ugh.
I hate making decisions.
Monday, January 23, 2006
The Weekend is Over and I Have Nothing to Show For It
The weekend was unproductive.
It began on the emo tip, with the news that Father lost his job. Again. I know he can handle it, but I still feel terribly. I can't imagine being his age and having to change his life against his will. When I lost my job, it felt like being dumped, complete with hopelessness and an aching sense of injustice. Awful, awful, awful.
I decided to attempt to play Scrabble anyway, but I was just in a bad mood. The place we went to was awesome, though, and had I been in a better mood, I think I'd have had great fun. The Boys played ping pong while I thought about my family and ideas for sitcoms. I spent a few minutes in the jazz lounge listening to one of the bands practice. I'd have been in a much better mood had I been able to just there surrounded by pillows while being a recluse. We played Scrabble (I had to be on D's team because there were five of us - D is apparently really good at both Scrabble and ping pong, but this is not surprising given that he is really good at everything) and I didn't win, despite D's being able to spell "apogee." I was very close to having "vacuous," which would have been awesome given its emo connotation, but someone used the "s" on the board for something else. I think this was maybe the fifth time I've ever played Scrabble, and I was therefore way out of my league.
I went home and brooded, hard. I talked to Sister briefly but spent most of the night wishing I had a good friend around or someone who I actually like to stop by, again, with ice cream and a movie. I watched a terrible movie, felt lonely, downloaded some music, and went to bed early.
I slept for ten hours. Woop! Spent Saturday morning downloading more music and talking on the phone to J, a good friend in NYC who used to date another friend of mine. They have officially broken up and J, who is also dangerously close to 30, isn't in the best state of mind. After we talked for a while she proposed going shopping. I accepted, not because I wanted to shop but because I didn't want to be alone. I accepted in spite of having made tentative plans with Former-Favorite-Ex-Boyfriend, who called about three seconds after I told J I'd shop with her. Oops.
Those of you who know me know that I mostly hate to shop, and that when I do shop, I get insane because nothing fits me. For whatever reason, Saturday afternoon was a stellar afternoon of shopping! It was probably because I went in there thinking I'd buy nothing and just support J. Five amazing shirts and an obscene amount of money spent later, I was feeling wicked cute.
I don't know what it is about the Macy's mirrors but MAN are they flattering! Is it the angle? The length? The fact that they are above the ground? Also - each of the dressing rooms are 1/2 the size of my apartment. Tons of hooks, benches on which to organize, and each room is equipped with three mirrors that you can position accordingly. Sweet!
D and I met up and headed up to Lincoln Center for dinner and the ballet. There's been much talk of "The Future" as of late and therefore much insinuation of not-living-in-NYC forever (thank god) which makes me feel less guilty about (a) doing things in New York now now now and (b) spending money on doing things in New York. The ballet, of course, was awesome. I kept fantasizing about doing ballet again, and then remembering that my almost-30-year-old body won't be able to fold over onto itself anymore. Hmph. I may try, though.
I did nothing on Sunday aside from accompany D on his shopping excursion for sneakers and pants. He didn't get sneakers or pants, nor did I buy a coat despite trying on many, one of which was on a mannequin. D stripped her so that I could try it on, and when trying to stealthly re-coat her pulled her arm off.
Back at my apartment we were both tired, most likely recovering from a slight conflict that morning. We spent time together and talked about how tired we were and how we had so much to do but I didn't want him to sleep or to leave. We watched some animation shorts we've had for months upon months, and then he left.
I talked to LBF. I ate ravioli. I played around with my camera a bit more and still have no idea how to focus. I talked to E about his screenplay and played The Doors for him over the phone. I talked to D, who was moody and therefore super cute, read an article about Craig the Founder of Craigslist that D had found in the trash, and then went to bed.
We do not have snow in New York, unfortuntely. The day is dreary and gross and I can't motivate.
Oh well.
Hopefully I'll have a productive weekend next weekend.
It began on the emo tip, with the news that Father lost his job. Again. I know he can handle it, but I still feel terribly. I can't imagine being his age and having to change his life against his will. When I lost my job, it felt like being dumped, complete with hopelessness and an aching sense of injustice. Awful, awful, awful.
I decided to attempt to play Scrabble anyway, but I was just in a bad mood. The place we went to was awesome, though, and had I been in a better mood, I think I'd have had great fun. The Boys played ping pong while I thought about my family and ideas for sitcoms. I spent a few minutes in the jazz lounge listening to one of the bands practice. I'd have been in a much better mood had I been able to just there surrounded by pillows while being a recluse. We played Scrabble (I had to be on D's team because there were five of us - D is apparently really good at both Scrabble and ping pong, but this is not surprising given that he is really good at everything) and I didn't win, despite D's being able to spell "apogee." I was very close to having "vacuous," which would have been awesome given its emo connotation, but someone used the "s" on the board for something else. I think this was maybe the fifth time I've ever played Scrabble, and I was therefore way out of my league.
I went home and brooded, hard. I talked to Sister briefly but spent most of the night wishing I had a good friend around or someone who I actually like to stop by, again, with ice cream and a movie. I watched a terrible movie, felt lonely, downloaded some music, and went to bed early.
I slept for ten hours. Woop! Spent Saturday morning downloading more music and talking on the phone to J, a good friend in NYC who used to date another friend of mine. They have officially broken up and J, who is also dangerously close to 30, isn't in the best state of mind. After we talked for a while she proposed going shopping. I accepted, not because I wanted to shop but because I didn't want to be alone. I accepted in spite of having made tentative plans with Former-Favorite-Ex-Boyfriend, who called about three seconds after I told J I'd shop with her. Oops.
Those of you who know me know that I mostly hate to shop, and that when I do shop, I get insane because nothing fits me. For whatever reason, Saturday afternoon was a stellar afternoon of shopping! It was probably because I went in there thinking I'd buy nothing and just support J. Five amazing shirts and an obscene amount of money spent later, I was feeling wicked cute.
I don't know what it is about the Macy's mirrors but MAN are they flattering! Is it the angle? The length? The fact that they are above the ground? Also - each of the dressing rooms are 1/2 the size of my apartment. Tons of hooks, benches on which to organize, and each room is equipped with three mirrors that you can position accordingly. Sweet!
D and I met up and headed up to Lincoln Center for dinner and the ballet. There's been much talk of "The Future" as of late and therefore much insinuation of not-living-in-NYC forever (thank god) which makes me feel less guilty about (a) doing things in New York now now now and (b) spending money on doing things in New York. The ballet, of course, was awesome. I kept fantasizing about doing ballet again, and then remembering that my almost-30-year-old body won't be able to fold over onto itself anymore. Hmph. I may try, though.
I did nothing on Sunday aside from accompany D on his shopping excursion for sneakers and pants. He didn't get sneakers or pants, nor did I buy a coat despite trying on many, one of which was on a mannequin. D stripped her so that I could try it on, and when trying to stealthly re-coat her pulled her arm off.
Back at my apartment we were both tired, most likely recovering from a slight conflict that morning. We spent time together and talked about how tired we were and how we had so much to do but I didn't want him to sleep or to leave. We watched some animation shorts we've had for months upon months, and then he left.
I talked to LBF. I ate ravioli. I played around with my camera a bit more and still have no idea how to focus. I talked to E about his screenplay and played The Doors for him over the phone. I talked to D, who was moody and therefore super cute, read an article about Craig the Founder of Craigslist that D had found in the trash, and then went to bed.
We do not have snow in New York, unfortuntely. The day is dreary and gross and I can't motivate.
Oh well.
Hopefully I'll have a productive weekend next weekend.
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