Monday, September 30, 2002

I don't know whether to laugh about this or to be totally disgusted by it but I thought I would share this with all of you and you can make your own judgement call...

Last night (or was it early this morning) I took out copious amounts of garbage and clothing to be picked up by the sanitation workers during this morning's pick up. We're talking maybe ten to fourteen bags plus a twin bed, a lamp, etc, etc. Now, I was planning to give the clothes and bed to the Salvation Army or to charity but I couldn't get anyone on short notice to come pick up the stuff.

Anyway, I was concerned that the trash guys would not pick up all of the stuff or would decline to pick something up because something should be recycled instead of trashed so when the truck came down the street I peeked around the blinds to make sure that it was all going into the back of the truck. And that's when it happened.

The guy took the first two bags, put them on the back of the truck, opened the bag the started to sort through the contents. From clothes to dishes to whatever, he was taking things out, holding them up, looking at them, and then TAKING what he wanted. I know he took four videos (X-Files episodes on VHS I didn't really want), a few coffee mugs, and at least one shirt. He was raiding my trash for his own personal gain and I found it really funny. Then I found it sorta sad.

The fact that he was doing this in front of a school bus of children and holding up traffic so he could go through and see what things he wanted from my trash was really weird. I know he caught me staring down at him because at one moment he looked right up at me and we locked eyes. After that, all of the bags quickly went into the back of the truck and he was off to the next house. It just really cracked me up and I have no idea why.

Sunday, September 29, 2002

I know I have complained a lot about my move to my new apartment but it's had also had so many positive aspects. Take last night for example...

As a part of condensing my life down to a managable level for my move to my new apartment, I had my friend Kelley and her husband Rob over to go through my CD collection to see what they wanted and what I wanted to give away. I had already given Rob a load of books and plays and sheet music so I could condense down the number of books I was taking over to the new apartment. I met Kelley when we both worked for a Broadway producer and we became very good friends and we even lived in the same part of town so we would leave work together and such. However, I hadn't seen Kelley in over a year. We had swapped a few emails, talked on the phone, but not had the time to see each other.

So last night they came over and starting sorting through my CDs. Most of these I collected when I was working for Barnes and Noble's music department when I lived in Florida and I haven't really bought any new CDs in ages but for the most part I hadn't listened to the majority of them and was more than willing to part with them. We spent about four hours talking about music and our lives and shows and things and it was one of those nights that when it's over you realize how much you needed that time to decompress and spend it with friends.

We laughed, we drank champagne, we insulted each other, we talked about sex acts, it was a great night. It was one of those nights that made you forget that your apartment looks like war-torn Bosnia and that there are things outside of the four walls of the apartment that are just as important in my life. I walked them up to the subway because I had to run to the ATM anyway and when I got home I no longer dreaded going there as I had in past days when I knew what a daunting task I had ahead of me. But when I got home, I was ready to tackle the boxes and the few remaining items and move on.

It's amazing what four hours and two great friends can do to change your mood and attitude.

Friday, September 27, 2002

A BLUE Dragon Lies Beneath!

I took the Inner Dragon online quiz and found out I am a Blue Dragon on the inside. If there ever was a draconic example of a supple attitude, my Inner Dragon is it. Blues are the Water Elemental dragon - typified by their Steam breath weapon. Pretty creative, huh? It goes right along with my Inner Dragon's tendency to maim, but not destroy. Much like my native oceans and rivers will deform the rock over time, eventually wearing it away to nothing.

Humans shouldn't make the mistake of thinking I'm weak, however. After all I'm a good 30 feet in length and have a penchant for materializing out of any body of water, no matter how small. I also enjoy communicating with aquatic life-forms, hunting in totally inhospitable terrain (i.e. 3000 feet below the waves), and using my fluid nature to my advantage. My enemies probably won't even see me approach in the first place. My favorable attributes are the sunset, Autumn, water, compassion, intuition, and calmness. Naturally, I pity the fool who'd try and prove that calmness part, he'd probably wind up being scalded. *small grin*

Oy vey....time for another classic rant from me and actually this is an extension of an earlier blog entry but now it's just really pissing me off...

I'm sure everyone knows who Mary Kay Letourneau is...but if not let me refresh your memory. Mary Kay is in jail in Washington for having sexual relations with a twelve year old student. Ultimately she bore two children by this kid and is forbidden by a judge from ever seeing him again. Vili Fualaau is the kid's name and earlier this year, he filed a multimilion dollar lawsuit against the school district and the police department for failing to protect him from being "tortured" by Mary Kay LeTourneau. For the record, this is the "timeline" provided to go with the case:

Fall 1991: Letourneau meets Vili Fualaau, who is a student in her second-grade class at Shorewood Elementary School in Burien.
1996: Sexual relations between Letourneau, 34, and Fualaau, 12, begin.

March 4, 1997: Letourneau is charged with child rape.

May 1997: Letourneau gives birth to Fualaau's daughter, her fifth child.

Aug. 7, 1997: Letourneau pleads guilty to two counts of rape of a child. Acknowledges she still has romantic feelings for the boy.

Nov. 14, 1997: Letourneau sentenced to six months in jail and banned from seeing Fualaau.

Feb. 3, 1998: Police arrest Letourneau after finding her with the boy in a car parked a block from her home at around 3 a.m.

Feb. 6, 1998: Letourneau enters the Washington Corrections Center for Women to begin a seven-year sentence.

Oct. 17, 1998: Letourneau gives birth to Fualaau's second daughter, her sixth child.

April 26, 2000: Vili Fualaau files a lawsuit in King County Superior Court against the City of Des Moines and the Highline School District for not preventing the original affair.

Now, I have a major beed with Fualaau and his mother for bringing this case. They said that they were doing it in order to hold the school system and the police department accountable for not protecting him and possibly other students when there were supposedly clear signs of some "extra-curricular" activities between the teacher and student.

I think the truth lies more with the fact that there was no extra cash coming in from the tabloids. Mind you now, the tabloids paid THOUSANDS for the story from the mother and the kid and now they have run through all the cash and needed some supplemental income. Where do they turn? The schools and police and the kid has to change his story from saying that he loved to her staying that he was tortured and abused by her. Sorry doesn't wash with me. This is nothing more than a case of people trying to use the system in order to gain a financial windfall. Anything this kid claims to suffer from comes from his own independent free will (probably combined with something from LeTourneau herself) and the choices that he made when he exercised his free will. In all of her trials he said that he loved her and now he says he's confused and doesn't know.

Suck it up, kid. You made a bad bad bad choice and now you're living with the consequences.

Wednesday, September 25, 2002

Taken from this guy after seeing it here...

1) Do I have to wear the tacky outfits? I would like to think I'm their new triple thick shake (and I'll let all of you wonder which version of "thick" I am talking about...) But in terms of a name...oh who knows...they all have pretty stupid names....I'll just call myself the stagename Phoebe recommended to Joey on Friends -- FLAME BOY!

2) I guess that depends on what you mean by afraid. I mean I was afraid that I was going to have to pack up everything and move to Florida if I didn't get ANY work earlier this year. I would rather slip my wrists and sit in an hottub than do that. But in terms of genuine fear as in fear or actual danger to my physical self...well, ask me that again after I move to my new apartment...

3) Depends on my mood. If I'm in a love making mood, it's slow and steady. If I'm in a quickie mood, it's hard and fast. More often than not, I'm a slow and steady kinda guy.

4) If you don't count trips home to see the family, it would be a trip to Minnesota I took with some friends a few years ago. For the record, going home to see the family is not a vacation.

5) International Mega-Superstar.

6) No doubt about it...suck it.

7) It would probably be the two teddy bears that I have had since I was about two. They are my prized possessions and I would never give them up.

8) I think I was 20...maybe 21...more likely 20.

9) Both actually. I have a good memory for retaining phone numbers but I still put them in speed dial for when I am feeling lazy or if I am just not entirely certain that Wendi's phone number ends in an 8 or a 9.

10) I tend not to wear cologne or perfume but when I do I opt for Eternity or Obsession for me. Sometimes CK Be.
Today is a debate about vacation time. It's an either/or scenario and I'm not really too happy about my options. In joining the new firm, I have been allotted one week of vacation and one personal day. The personal day I am using for my move to my new apartment. The vacation days...well that's something else altogether.

My options are really rather simple. I can opt to take that week of vacation sometime during the already crowded holiday vacation schedule or I can carry it over to next year but I would have to use that week of time during the first three months of the year. Now this gets really complicated because I wanted to take a trip to either Italy or Switzerland but later in the year. Now, I will have my two week allotment of vacation within the remainder of the year plus my personal days and I could BARELY manage to make it to my friend Joni's wedding in Canada and Christmas in Florida in 2003 if I play my cards right. However, the prospect of having three weeks of vacation next year is a bit daunting. 2004 I will have three weeks without having to carry anything over and a nice portion of that is going to be used to send me to Thailand. Or at least I hope it does.

So, I was looking at trips through Alyson Adenvtures to see what was available during that time and I came across a few options that I liked...

Saba looked nice but I don't swim very well in order to really enjoy this trip.

The trip to Costa Rica sounds absolutely delightful but that river rafting might give me a few worries.

If I can pull the money together mondo pronto (and that's a longshot given the move in a few days), then Cambodia is yet another idea that I might look into although that's in January.

Too bad I can't carry them all the way to May because then I could take an early trip to Italy then instead of in September.

You know I bitch and moan about stupid stuff like this, but to be honest, it's glad to finally be able to do that. After going over two years consulting and temping, to have a real job is finally something to enjoy.

Tuesday, September 24, 2002

Ugh...blogger is bothering me today (and has been for a while)...I can't add any new links in my section and I wanted to add in some of the new bloggers at met at BABB3..can anyone help?
I hate packing. I have never liked moving. It's one of the most chaotic things that can happen in your life. hat I have come to hate most about packing is reliving some memories that you would rather not when you happen to come across a certain item (or items) that transport you to a time where you wish that no one would really miss that person so you can throttle them to within an inch of their lives and make the world a much better place.

Item Number 1 -- An eight ball from a pool table.

Yes, the black ball from a pool table. This goes all the way back to when I was living in Florida and sharing an apartment with a woman named Nicole. To make all of you NYCers a little nauseous, we had the entire second story of a house with hardwood floors and a tiled bathroom and we each paid a paltry $187.50 each for rent...yes, you can get that much space for $375 in Florida. Anyway, Nicole was, and I still think she is, a confused person. Confused in terms of her sexuality. She was married to this guy whose name escapes me and had three kids. At some point, she either had a breakdown or was put into a hospital for observation or something like that. Sadly, I didn't learn the details of this until much much later (as in I had already moved in and been there for a few months). She and her husband divorced because she either decided she was a lesbian, realized she was a lesbian, or couldn't decide between the two or something like that. Her husband kept custody of the three kids.

I got the pool ball because I thought her husband was being an ass. When we were dropping the kids off at his house one day he was being a jerk and not really being rather nice to myself or to Nicole. I asked Nicole for the keys to the car so I could see if I had packed somethings I meant to take home from work with me in my bag. On the way to the car, I passed the pool table and had an evil idea.

Of course, the most important ball in all of pool (unless you are playing 9-ball) is the eight ball. What better way to get back at him than to take the eight ball and make his life ever so slightly uncomfortable. With my fingers working fast, I pried the eight ball from the return rack at the base of the pool table and took it to my bag. After Nicole and I had left, I showed her what I had done and it became a little rallying point for us.

A few months later, things between Nicole and myself weren't so hot. I was left alone in the apartment with all of her crap, still in the boxes, piled around me. She was content with her relationship with her then girlfriend, P.K., and wasn't taking care of her messes at home. Mind you, she was out of work on disability at the time (not exactly sure what kind of disability, but I think it was more mental than physical) and she wasn't taking care of anything at home as it pertained to her items. She would purchase items for the apartment that we had not discussed (such as curtains and bathroom accessories) and expected me to chip in on paying for them. She would spent two days a week in the apartment with her children and I would wind up having to clean up after her kids after they had all gone to bed. Things between us grew tense and eventually, we pretty much stopped speaking to each other. We did not part on good terms. To this day, I believe she resented the fact that I was moving to a new city and leaving her behind.

When I found the eight ball, I wondered what had happened to Nicole in the five years since I left Florida. I know she has moved to a new place but I don't know if she has the same job or even how her kids are doing. I don't think things between the two of us could be repaired but it would just be nice to know she's doing okay.

Item Number 2 -- That box I accidentally moved from Florida

Whenever you move from one place, invariably you either leave something behind, throw something away, or possibly take something that didn't belong to you but it was next to all of your stuff so you thought it was part of yours and you didn't look inside the box until you got to your new destination and you go, "How the heck did that get here?"

This is a quick story but highly amusing. At least for me it's amusing now. Before I left Florida, I split up with a boyfriend. It was a short, brief, wild romantic, but never going to last sort of thing. When we split (because neither of us were into the long distance relationship thing and he's since gotten involved with another guy and they've been together for three years), I knew I had two or three boxes of stuff in his place that I needed to pick up. Just the normal stuff, you know. CDs, clothing, books, etc.

When I got there to pick things up, he pointed me and my friend in the direction of where the stuff was so we could load it into the U-Haul. There were three boxes over there and I thought nothing of it. We picked up the boxes and loaded them into the truck.

Fast forward to about two weeks later when I have moved into my new apartment and I am just now unpacking boxes. I pick up this box, open it, and go, "What the hell?" Inside was a box of porno films that my ex had inadvertently placed in the same general area of my belongings. Now we're not talking about four or five tapes. We're talking about twenty to thirty. This was even more humorous for me because he always said that he was never into porn and that it didn't do anything for him, however, there was proof positive as to the contrary.

I got on the phone with him and asked him if he was missing anything from his apartment. There was a long pause on the other end of the line. He knew that I knew that he knew exactly what I was talking about. Finally, he said, no...there really wasn't anything missing from his apartment. The liar. So I told him I had a box of videos that came from his apartment (because trust me, they were not mind...shocking, I know, but it's true) and if he wanted them back. He feigned indifference and said that I must have been mistaken. So I kept them and ultimately threw them out in the garbage because...let's face it...I prefer live versus Memorex.

Item Number 3 -- Clairee the Cow

There are few people in my life that I can honestly say I honestly and truly, 100%, without a doubt adore and would do just about anything for if they asked. One of those people is my dear, dear friend Teresa.

Teresa and I met when we both sang for the Jacksonville Gay Chorus. I was already an established member and this was her first rehearsal. I sang bass and I believe she sang alto/second tenor (depending upon the arrangement of the song) but that first night, we sat next to each other as our sections were positioned together. I helped her find her way through the music so she could quickly and easily follow along. An instant friendship was born.

When Teresa became the first female president of the chorus board, she asked if I woud assume the position of production director. Between that first rehearsal and her election as president, Teresa and I had grown closer and I had become friends with her partner, Cheryl (another on the list of people I would do anything for). These two women were so dedicated and hard working that you had no choice but to like them. They were willing to put themselves out on a limb to help the chorus grow.

Outside of the chorus Cheryl and Teresa headed up what was called the Calendar of Events (or the COE), a lesbian organization that sponsored potluck dinners, dancers, and get togethers that helped promote unity within the lesbian community in Jacksonville. They were two of the most prominent members within the gay and lesbian community. In fact, when Jacksonville hosted it's first gay pride parade, Cheryl and Teresa were two of the first grand marshalls to lead the parade.

During my last days in Florida before I moved, Teresa pulled me aside and handed me a small stuffed animal (think Ty Beanie Baby but cuter) with a tag on it that said it was Clairee the Cow. Teresa had signed it with a wonderful note and when I went on my first day of work, Clairee was with me. In fact, Clairee had the honor of riding in the cab of the U-Haul with me -- an honor only accorded to the two stuffed animals that I have had since I was a small child.

My first real weekend in New York, I went to Planet Hollywood and bought a small stuffed monkey named George and gave it to Theresa when I returned to pack up my belongings. I found Clairee again last night and I had to smile because I had wondered what had happened to this wonderful gift. I dusted her off and put her with my stuffed animals so I could be reminded of what a wonderful friend I still have in Florida.

Packing. It may suck, but it sure brings back memories.

Sunday, September 22, 2002

There's just something about a wedding that gets me a little schmoopy.

Yesterday, my friend Dee remarried her husband Jeff. Long story short, Dee was diagnosed with colon cancer about two years ago. When she received the diagnosis, she turned to her then-boyfriend Jeff and said pretty much that if he wanted to call it quits between them right then and there, he could with no regrets or remorse. In turn, he asked her to marry him. They were married in a small civil ceremony but decided that they really still wanted the full deal with the gown and the tuxedo, the reception, the DJ, the works. Today, she got her wish as the two of them renewed their vows and were remarried.

And that's when I got to thinking about my wedding. I don't call it a commitment ceremony because I think that's a term the gay and lesbian community made up to throw in the face of the heterosexual world. It's not a wedding it's a commitment ceremony. Well, hell, that's what a wedding is anyway...isn't it? You're committing yourself to one person for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, in bad meals and bad hair days, and on and on.

So I was thinking about my wedding. I definitely would like something outdoors in the nice cool weather of the fall or spring. Definitely not in the summer. I will probably be in a tuxedo and I don't want to be sweating like a pig at my own wedding. I know I don't want the traditional thing. Of course there is the processional but I don't want too much of what Dee called, "the God stuff." Dee also didn't adhere to having all women in her bridal party. She broke rank and had a guy. Jeff didn't do it but I have always thought that if they are a dear friend you should have them next to you regardless of their gender. I know there are at least two women that I would want in my wedding party.

I remember watching this movie called "I Think I Do" and it took place over the weekend of a wedding. In this, one of the readings of the wedding was an exceprt from a book by Carson McCullers. The monologue (as I have come to call it) really speaks to why you love a person. The character goes on to talk about the little things about a guy that mean so much like how his finger is broken from playing baseball or how his hair stands up in the back when he wakes up in the morning or how his nose is slightly crooked. She loves him simply because she does.

Weddings are so affirming that love does exist in this world. So often we are reminded about the hate and the evil and the bad things in life that it's nice to be reminded that there are people in this world that have connected with each other and decided that they want to spend the rest of their life with each other. I think so often we focus on the things that are less than desireable in our lives and don't stop to look around at all of the positive things. Weddings, for me, have always brought hope. It's a harbinger of the future that even for this one bright shining moment things are great (even if people in your wedding party may have been assholes). All things are possible. The road has been rocky getting there and it's going to be rocky going forward, but this one day is special.

Saturday, September 21, 2002

Well I was at Blogger Bash 3 last night for quite some time. I got to see the illustrious Caryn Solly again (now with red hair instead of the blonde highlighted tresses that I saw at an earlier Blogger meeting. Also in attendance was the absolutely adorable Edie Singleton (who should be the apple of many a man's eye.

When I first got there I wasn't really sure where the group was because I didn't see the requisite nametags, so after some wandering, I found Paul Frankenstein, Ravenwolf, and Nick Marsala (who I overheard someone say was pretty damn cute) and we were quickly followed by Max Jacobs and Phil Murphy. When the rest of Max's group arrived, it was decided that we needed to move to a room in the back of the bar that could accomodate us better. Of course this also meant that we weren't immediately in the eyes of our adoring public. Of course, being the publicity/media whore that I am, it was a slight disappointment (yeah right).

One of the more interesting topics that came up was that we really didn't know what to talk about because we pretty much read each other's blogs on a regular basis so we can't ask what's new in each other's lives (although we did do that any way) because we pretty much know that anyway. So what did we talk about? Tattoos. Yep...that of course means that the woman with some of the most gorgeous tattoos that I have seen, Ms. Liz Maryland was in attendance with the rest of the NYC Bloggers group was there. So we all got talking about different things and refreshing each others memories as to whose blog was which (let's just say that once I said Olsen Twins, the entire reference to the (646) Guy was made clear...oddly enough a lot of people hate them as much as I do) but all in all we pretty much broke off into little groups based upon our tables and we frequently moved around and talked to others.

At one point I moved over to another table and got to meet Liz W. whose friend Lauren also hails from Jacksonville so I spent some time talking with Lauren about our remembrances of Jacksonville and so forth. Also at the table was Pitchaya Sudbanthad and his friend who for the life for me I cannot remember his name. But we got into a conversation about Jacksonville and how it has been called the armpit of Florida and not because it's in the armpit part of the state. Now I like parts of Jacksonville. However, I don't like the conservative Southern Baptist attitude and so forth. So I was jokingly calling Jacksonville a huge flea market, a huge trailer park, and on and on. Nothing against Jacksonville, but once you've spent at least a year in New York, you really don't want to go back to live in Jacksonville. When I was unemployed for three months and almost had to move back to Florida, I said that I would rather have slit my wrists and sat in a hottub than go back to Jacksonville.

One of the latecomers was Jim who I didn't get to spend much time talking to (which was pretty much a repeat of the last Blogger event as well). Another latecomer was Orchid who I have to say...I admire anyone who puts in a nose ring like the one she has. Total respect. And for the record, I am still trying to figure out how Allen won a free beer. By the end of the night I had a raging headache due to all of the camera flashes and I had to get home to start packing up the apartment (something I am horribly behind on) but I have friends coming over tomorrow to help so I should get back on track rather quickly. I'm leaving the kitchen for last because I am still not entirely sure what is coming and what is going from there.

Anyway, if you blog and you have yet to go to a blogger gathering I say go for it. You get to meet a lot of very interesting and intelligent people and have some incredibly interesting coversations. Best of all, you get to put a face to some of the people that you have been reading for so long. At the same time you are meeting some really fabulous people and get exposed to new ideas and new cultures. That's why I like reading things like Live from the WTC because you get to read about differing viewpoints and learn from their opinions. When people refer to bloggers as a community, it's a true statement. It was great to meet people that you talk to online or leave messages for on their blogs and vice versa and then it's like you're with family. You get hugs and slaps on the back on the way out the door and people somewhat sad that you can't stay longer but you make that promise to meet again and hopefully sooner than the last time.

Friday, September 20, 2002

As many of you know, I am a freak for reality TV. Survivor is still the greatest sociological experiment on television. I don't really care what people say about it or why they watch it or why they hate it -- it is still an amazing representation of developing cultures and socities.

Sixteen people leave a play with its rules, structure, class, and order to go to a place where all of that is wiped away. Now in their new world, they have to decide what is important to them food vs. shelter. Get water now or wait until later. It's all determining what their current needs are at the time versus their wants. It's also about dividing up the labor so that multiple tasks are not only being accomplished but being done in an efficient manner so that the large projects are not denied the attention they deserve.

I think the Sook Jai tribe (that's the purple team for those that watched but don't remember who was what) didn't exactly know how to proceed when they arrived. They did the right thing and made an impromptu shelter to protect them for the night and then to build a stronger, sturdier structure that would help protect them during monsoon season the following day.

However, this is where things went awry for them. There are people who recognized only one need (shelter) and failed to recognize any other needs (food, water). They got upset when other people were off seeking to help satisfy the additional concerns of the group instead of focusing on their goal -- shelter. They would hold out their hands as proof of their efforts and wanted other people to do the same to show they that were not working as hard as they were (at least in their opinion). Well, that's not an accurate measure of a person's work. It can take just as much work to comb the surrounding area for food as it would for them to build their shelter. The area is rocky, craggy, and food for this tribe might not be as easy to find as it was for the other.

Both food and shelter are priorities. They both need to be addressed. Splitting up your forces to accomplish both major tasks helps to save time and effort. Once the food team is done, then they can join their team working on the house. I'm all about multitasking and getting as much done as possible with the resources provided. These kids are not...

As for choosing the teams, I think Jan made the shrewder decisions than Jake. Jake went for physicality. Jan, I would like to think, went for temperment. While Jan's tribe all seemed to get along well and bond, Jake's team seemed to care that they had more physically stronger and attractive members. In fact, it's Jake's team that has more turmoil as the younger set is venturing off into their own pursuits and arguing with each other. Jan's team is more mellow. I have to agree with her...take the man with the music. Music always a good calming and relaxing thing.

Now, as for evictions, John's departure was surprising only in the aspect that so little was shown of him to actually support his ousting. We got a little of John breaking away from the group to go on his own path and a little more of his small joke which no one really seemed to get or appreciate and that was it. So, while I am sure there are things that support having him voted out, it would have been nice to see them.

Some people thought that Ghandia should have left because of her mishap in blowing the challenge. This has led to a great discussion and debate within the Survivor fan ranks. Should your vote in the tribal round be to get rid of someone that causes tension within the team (or as Ted called it last night, "family") ranks or get rid of the weakest link. So far it's been a 60/40 split with three people leaving for social reasons (Debb of Survivor 2, Peter of Survivor 4, and now John of Survivor 5) and two people leaving for physical reasons (Sonja of Survivor 1 and Diane of Survivor 3). I think having a strong social environment is better than a strong physical envronment. When your morale is low because someone is down the emotions of the group with a negative or combative attitude (or they are just really off and you can't deal with it), then you are best to get rid of that person. Those emotions will spill over into competition and have a negative effect on their performance. Emotions have a larger effect than most people realize.

So John is gone and if you believe the editing then Robb is on his way out as well. I think Jan's tribe is stronger than anyone gave her credit. Jake went for the outside attributes and Jan looked inward. Something tells me it will make a difference in the end.

Thursday, September 19, 2002

I've been having template problems so the blog is going through a revamping right now. Patience is all I ask...
Someone explain to me how I could get all hot and bothered when my boss said the phrase "big and thick" in reference to a stack of papers on my desk in his thick French accent... idea why I did this test but here goes...

What American Idol Are You?

~Find Your Inner Supermodel~

What's Your Movie Dream Car?

by Auto Glass America
It’s time to give someone a Maalox moment.

Novartis, the manufacturers of Maalox, have advised their customer service reps and other people who may be in contact with the public and/or investors of the following should they receive a call complaining about their choice in advertising.

A commercial for Maalox aired during one of the episodes of Bravo’s documentary program “Gay Weddings” which showed four couples (two gay, two lesbian) making preparations to “tie the knot” and commit their lives to each other. According to a friend who works for Novartis this is their “plan of action”:

“We were informed yesterday that we may be getting calls in because Maalox (made by my company) was advertised on the Bravo network when they did a show entitled ‘Gay Weddings’. We are to tell people that we bought advertising time on Bravo in general, and that's where they put us. Also, we have requested that our products not be advertised during future viewings of ‘Gay Weddings.’”

So what can you do? Call and complain about it or call and support it. Just let your voice be heard:

Here are some numbers you can call to express your opinion:

Novartis Corporation
608 Fifth Ave.
New York, NY 10020
Tel: 212-307-1122

Novartis Pharmaceuticals Corporation
One Health Plaza
East Hanover, NJ 07936-1080
Tel: 973-781-8300

Toll-Free Customer Service:
Mon-Fri 8:30 am - 5:00 pm, EST

Novartis US Media Relations (they say this is just for journalists but, oh well, call them too!)
Phone – (212) 830-2457
Fax – (212) 246-0185
All other inquiries – 1-888-669-66682

Investor Relations

Kamran Tavanger
Head of Investor Relations

Jill Pozarek
Investor Relations Manager

John Menditto
Investor Relations Manager

All three can be reached at (212) 307-1122.
Some of you are wondering what big thing happened over the weekend with Wendi that I hinted at in yesterday's posting. Well, since I now know that Wendi did the final leg of the project I can tell you all about it...

Wendi and I applied to be contestants on CBS' reality TV show Amazing Race 4 (the four being, of course, the edition of the race). I was supposed to apply for Amazing Race 3 but that fell through at the last minute but this time the tape is in the mail and off to CBS and Amazing Race headquarters in California and should arrive today if the US Postal Service does its job. It's kismet or something because inside the camera bag was a fortune cookie that said, "You will travel to many foreign soils." Hmmm...interesting...

It was really funny because Wendi and I did the tape at about three in the morning when we were both incredibly tired and putting far more energy into it than any other person who would be up at that hour of the night. We rehearsed it over and over and over that afternoon and couldn't get through the entire thing once so we decided (after coming back home from the theatre) that we were just going to try to tape it and go through it just once.

The first take was a disaster from the beginning because Wendi was clueless that I had even started the tape so we did a retake. I had my cell phone in my hand with the countdown clock poised at three minutes and I watched it slowly tick down as we ran down our list of things we agreed to talk about. At the very end, I don't know what possessed us to do this, but for some reason, we pulled out these really odd looking hats and put them on our heads. Wendi wore a patchwork style Mad Hatter and I had on a multi-colored hat that had green fringe on it and reminds me of a carousel. So here we are at the end of our video with these hats on and just had to be there...

Anyway the video is off and if I make it to the semi-finals I will be flying off to Chicago to meet up with Miss Wendi again and have some fun in the Windy City...oy vey...why am I so frightened right now?

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

Sigh....I just did the work to have my phone turned over to the new line...I came >< that close to asking for a (646) area code but I will have to suffer along with a (212)...Part of me really wanted to be a (646) guy in a (212) world in real life but I think having a (646) as my cell phone number makes me just as happy....
So sorry for not blogging at all yesterday but it was for a very good reason -- MY BIRTHDAY! Yep, I turned 4 years old dog years......yep Brian is 28 years old as of yesterday.

It was pretty boring at work as there was a little party for people in the counterparty risk department but not for me but at least there was cheesecake. But last night, my friend Maev and I went to the San Gennaro festival (yes I went back) and I got to see everything this time. With Wendi, we didn't get to see too much because it was way more packed on Sunday than it was last night.

When we got to the very end of the fair, we stopped in the San Gennaro church....of course I don't think that's it's real name but for the sake of this entry, we'll call it the San Gennaro church. Maev and I both bought rosaries (even though I am not Catholic, I bought a nice green tigers eye rosary) and they were blessed by the Franciscan monk that was behind the table. As he was blessing my rosary, Maev turned to me and said, "He's cute." I was so glad she's said that first because even I noticed how adorable the monk was. If a monk could be hot, it would have been him. No, Joni, I'm not hot for teacher any more. I'm hot for monk! Just kidding...but seriously he was very cute.

After that, we headed out and got headed into what we called the rip off of the night. Here's a word of advice for everyone, DO NOT take a dart from any of those carnies who tell you that the first one is on them. I wound up paying $60 to win a Siberian husky doll (named Junior) and a magenta caterpillar (which we later named Gyp for obvious reasons). What we didn't realize until we paid up was that each dart was $5. One dart -- five dollars. So he just kept handing them to me and I kept throwing (as did Maev). The worst part of this though was it was at the very END of the street fair. So now I had to carry this freakin' huge caterpillar through the rest of the fair. I now had the word TARGET written on my forehead. All the other vendors tried to get me to play and I said no each and every time. Some of them even tried the old (at least it was old for me now) "I'll pay for the first one" trick and I politely declined each time. Well, almost everytime. One guy tried to get me to play and I said I travelled four feet and the guy next to him tried to get me to do it and I turned to him and said, "I just told your friend over there no and you think I'm going to change my mind in four feet?"

So now I have a magenta caterpillar and a rosary and then we passed this guy who was selling silk wool (or at least that's what Maev called it) and I bought myself this nice long scarf (and quite colorful at that) and I almost bought a rice paper hanging lamp but what was I going to do with that? For the sake of it...what the heck am I going to do with a magenta caterpillar???

Monday, September 16, 2002

This was such a busy weekend...

My friend Wendi arrived in from Iowa Friday night and we were up until about 2 or 3 in the morning chatting and talking and having some fun. Now mind you, I have already been up since about 5 am so I am borderline exhausted and not sleeping well for the past few weeks on top of that.

Saturday we did some stuff around the apartment working on this project that we had to complete together (more news on that at a later date) and then we ventured into midtown in order to meet up with a friend (whom we did not ultimately meet up with). One of the highlights, though, was passing my dentist's office. Now for many of my friends, they already know that I have a crush on my dentist. Let's just put it this way...if you want to enjoy going to the dentist, then you have to find a very attractive dentist. It has to be one that you wouldn't mind molesting you if you were put under anesthesia. Once you have this in place, then you don't mind going to the dentist. This is the case with my dentist. He is Greek and has these stunningly gorgeous chocolate brown eyes.

Now Wendi knows all about my dentist man because I was gushing over him after a few of my visits. So we're on our way to the subway and I pointed to where his office was...and oddly enough, he was about ten feet down the street coming back from picking up his lunch. He's looking better than ever and even Wendi was, he's hot! So I got to see my dentist and I turned all giggly and girlie and such. He thought I had moved because I hadn't stopped by the office to get another cleaning (I'm supposed to get them quarterly but I have been bad about doing that) but I let him know that I moving to Washington Heights but he is STILL going to be my dentist regardless of where I live in the city.

Later that night we went to see Into the Woods with Vanessa Williams and John McMartin and it was a wonderful show and a wonderful production but I forgot how LONG it is...the show is almost three hours but it was three glorious hours. On a funny note, a friend that we ran into on the streets was at the show that was kinda funny and I would go into further detail but all we have to say is that Wendi thought that he and I would make a cute couple but he is already in a long-term relationship and something tells me he's not going to leave him for me...

Yesterday, we went down to Ground Zero and it was my first time for me to go down there since a week after the 9/11 attacks when I did some work at the American Stock Exchange about one block away from the WTC. It was a little somber for me because I used to work down there and the little park I would pass where people would eat lunch and play chess and such but now it's all fenced in and such. After that we spent some time at the San Gennaro Festival in Little Italy and I got a henna tattoo which is on my right leg and looks like a big spiral/pinwheel type of thing. As my birthday is tomorrow, this was my gift to myself...although I might go back down there for another one...

The big thing about this weekend was the lack of sleep. I start my first day at a REAL job...yes, I was hired by the bank and today is my first day on the job so I needed a lot of sleep to get ready...not gonna happen. I have been up since 3:00 this morning, got Wendi in a car to the airport, and I got some breakfast. I am going to be surprised if I make it through the day in one piece...

Friday, September 13, 2002

Thanks my my darling Edie for this...if someone keeps pestering you for their phone number at a bar and you just want them to be satisfied and go away....give them this number....(212) 479-7990. Trust want to call...
Since I've had a few people ask me who the heck Chuck Palumbo is my new hunka hunka burning man love which might replace Ben in an episode of (646) Guy as my new husband...

Just a couple of quick notes this morning since this will be a busier than normal weekend for me and I doubt I will have the chance to blog...

1) Marcellas is out of the Big Brother house. I did a happy dance in my apartment and was glad to know that there will be no more drama in the house. Roddy still melts my butter though.

2) I watched the "commitment ceremony" of Chuck and Billy on the WWF (I don't care what they call it, it's still the WWF to me) and all I have to say is I now have the hots for Chuck Palumbo. Those cheeks man (and I'm not talking butt cheeks) just want to grab onto them and plant a kiss on him. I did think that the whole ceremony was done in somewhat good taste although for all they say about positive fan reaction, there were a lot of boos going on. I just want to applaud these two men for being brave enough to tackle a gay or gay-themed role -- something some actors would never do.

3) I am DESPERATE for the use of a video camera this weekend. My friend Wendi is flying in from Iowa and we want to audition for Amazing Race 4 but we can't if we can't send in a video. At the very least she and I will be going to the San Gennaro festival this weekend. Now, if you have a camera that you can loan us for a day...heck at this point...we'll pay to borrow it from you....anything...we just need a freakin' camera, people!

4) Rebekkah Revels will not represent North Carolina in the Miss America Pageant. Misty Clymer will get that honor. As much as I support Ms. Revels and her decision to reclaim her crown, I think she should have made them fire her first and then sue on grounds of wrongful termination.

Thursday, September 12, 2002

September 11, 2002 NUMBERS Evening Payouts - 14,878 Winners Share $4,999,990 in Prizes

And just what was the winning number?

I hate moving.

There is the inevitable cleaning out of everything that you have collected since the dawn of time and even then you know that you still have more to get rid of and then you have to wonder how you're going to manage it all, etc. etc. etc. I am in this "need to condense" mode that I have never been in before. I need to get rid of a twin bed (with mattress and frame) that an old roommate left behind (the rat bastard that he was), my entertainment center, a tv stand, and possibly a dresser and my stereo. I'm looking into a few options from posting them for sale on Loot, the free ad newspaper to going through one of my coworker's contacts as he publishes items for sale to foreign nationals who are moving to NYC with no possessions.

The book situation is finally under control. I was somewhat scared that I would never get rid of them all but I can proudly say that they are over and done with as of today. My next move is to clothing which I am going to donate to a charity that is always dropping leaflets on the front stoop. If I can find their phone number maybe I can get them to come over and pick the clothes up and such. I get a tax write-off they get to sell my old underwear and such.

Actually, my next step may be my CD collection. I have so many CDs that I never listen to that it is stupid for me to have them. A co-worker suggested that I put them up for sale on eBay while another said I may have better luck on For, they take a flat $0.99 fee plus another fifteen percent of the final sale price. I could make a small killing there and that would be enough to fund a new bed. Yep, I'm also looking into selling the bed I sleep in now in order to buy a loft bed (which I will be buying anyway because I will need the floor/storage space in the new room with its BLOOD RED WALLS). But that's a future thing. Right now I'm looking to offset moving costs and such. I would sell off some of my playbills (and I do have some old ones and some rare ones too like the playbill for CARRIE) but I fear they wouldn't bring me as much money as I would expect. Besides...when you're moving do you really want to think about shipping costs and which you have to send out immediately and such?

But I am thinking about it.

Wednesday, September 11, 2002

In Flanders Field
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army

In Flanders Field the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived, and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle field of that war. We come to dedicate a portion of it, as a final resting place for those who died here, that the nation might live. This we may, in all propriety do. But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow, this ground -- The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have hallowed it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here; while it can never forget what they did here.

It is rather for us, the living, we here be dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that, from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here, gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve these dead shall not have died in vain; that the nation, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people by the people for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Tuesday, September 10, 2002

As September 11 is tomorrow and I have no plans to do an entry on that day beyond my own silent tribute, I thought I would take a moment to pass along my September 11 story.

I was consulting at Bear Stearns at the time at their former office on Park Avenue. Normally, I would have gone to the gym that morning and gotten in a great workout but on this day I opted against the gym for another few minutes of sleep. Don't ask me why I just did. The group I was consulting with was located on the fifth floor in a former computer server room that had been converted into office space and the room was bitterly cold all the time because of all of the air conditioning units that were in the room dedicated to keeping the computer infrastructure cool. At that time, I believe everyone was in the office already. There were thirteen of us all at our desks getting prepped for meetings and such when our project manager, Alison, came out of her office to tell us that her fiance had reported that a plan had just struck the World Trade Center.

Of course, our thoughts immediately turned to the incident with the Empire State Building and we all assumed it was a bi-plane that had hit the building. I called a few friends in Florida as well as my mother and told them about this but they had already heard reports that it was an airliner -- not a biplane. At this point, a few coworkers and I decided to head down to the trading floor to watch the news coverage on any of the many television monitors down there. In vivid color was the smoldering trade center tower. It was unreal. It was surreal. Sure enough, our worst nightmares were realized when we all watched the second plane smash into the other tower adn large fireball plume that erupted from the building. Soon word about a plan crashing into the Pentagon and a plan off course in Pennsylvania was running through our office. Something was definitely not right this day. Things were spinning out of control and just when you had acclimated yourself to one news item another one was being reported.

Back on the fifth floor, one of the technical guys had converted one of his computer monitors into a TV and we were watching the coverage live from our own office instead of the now crammed and packed trading floors. I put in a few more phone calls this time to other family members to let them know that I was okay and not downtown. My maternal grandmother didn't know what had happened as she did not have on the TV set at the time. Therefore, my telling her that I was okay and not downtown at the time was pretty much a cryptic message for her. As for my paternal grandmother, she was crying not only because of what had happened but because she didn't know if I was safe or where I was. My phone call to her helped to alleviate some of her fears but we knew that the end result of this day was not going to be good.

At this point, I remembered my friend Fran who worked downtown in the World Trade Center. I knew that I couldn't call her for obvious reasons and I took the chance that she might be home. Thank God she was and had opted that morning to go into work late. However, while on the phone with her, I heard one of my workers call out that the first tower had collapsed. It was unthinkable. Totally unthinkable. Fran and I immediately got off the phone and we watched in horror as they replayed the towers collapse. Alison was frantic with her fiance her wanted her to come home immediately while she was trying to figure out what to do with all of us still at the office because we couldn't really leave. At this point all of the bridges and subways were shut down and the only way out of Manhattan was on a ferry. Three of the New Jersey employees left to grab a ferry to get home while the rest of us were at the office. The fourth NJer had gone down to Ground Zero to meet up with her husband and go from there. The four Manhattan employees were dismissed to walk home as well -- all but one was within a relatively close walking distance. The one employee who lived in Brooklyn left to meet up with his girlfriend while the employee from the Bronx left to meet up with some Manhattan based friends as well. As the only Queens employee, my boss, Alison, said to pack up my bags because I was heading home with her until we could get it all figured out.

Now during this entire time I was emailing friends on our mailing list and letting them know I'm okay and asking them to send my father, who was in Canada at the time an email to let him know I was okay. Leaving the computer, which was the only link I had to so many people, was hard. Even though I could talk to them over the phone, I could always email out if they couldn't get in.

My boss, who was prone to wearing heels not suitable for the amount of walking that we were about to do, had to buy shoes at the Sports Authority across the street so we could do the horribly long hike to her apartment. We're talking across town and up thirty blocks or more. The entire hike took about ninety minutes or so as we had to traverse Central Park and stop along the way to listen to the occasional newscast as people with radios were sitting out in Central Park with people just standing around listening. It was a helpless feeling.

At her apartment we did nothing more than drinking wine and watch the news. If we weren't already numb, we were rapidly getting there. Alison and I, prior to this day, had a wonderful working relationship. I was a "go to" guy in the team, the person she gave the special assignments to because she knew they would get done and get done right the first time (not to mention pretty fast as well). I was, generally, the first person in the office each day. Alison and I would talk about books and politics or television or movies but never work. But during this walk back to her apartment and ensuing conversations afterwards, she and I forged a tight bond that, I believe, made many people in the office envious. We discussed our backgrounds, our personal history, our lives and totally understood each other. This was no longer a boss-employee relationship as much as it was two people who were caught in the worst moment in American history trying to make some sense out of it for themselves if not for each other.

That night after dinner, I wanted to go home. It was nothing against Alison or her fiance, Mike, but I wanted the comforts of home. I was pretty much told it would be an impossibility due to the bridge restrictions and such. My only choice was to spend the night on the daybed in their apartment and see what the status is the next day. I barely slept that night. When I did sleep, I don't think it was from the actual need or desire to sleep as much as it was from simple emotional, mental, and physical fatigue. Part of me to this day thinks that Alison and I needed each other just a little bit longer to make it through that first day together. I had already spoken to my family to let them know I wasn't home just yet and that I would call them when I got home the next day.

I finally got home around noon the next day and turned on the Cartoon Network just so I could watch something other than the news. I stopped off at Fairway (the best supermarket in NYC) and got some comfort food in pistachios, trail mix, oriental mix, etc. so I could sit at home and at least have something food wise that would give me comfort. I would later learn I was one of the lucky ones who did not know anyone who passed away in the tragedies of that day. However, in hindsight, I learned at lot more. I learned how much I love my family and friends and, in turn, how much they love me. I gained a wonderful new friend in Alison (although that didn't seem to go over well with the coworkers as if I care at this point). I gained a new insight on life itself and how fragile it really is. I learned that people can open their hearts and their homes to total strangers who had no place to turn in their time of need. People who couldn't get home being adopted for the evening by someone they shared an elevator with on occasion or just someone on the street who was there to comfort them.

I've moved on since that day. I am beyond that moment in history and choose not to let the actions of a small group dictate how I live. I freely fly home on vacations with no trepidation. I live my life remembering what happened, but not letting it dictate my actions. It's my small, public act of defiance that lets everyone know that they may have thought they won but all they did was awaken the angry beast of patriotism that had been dormant for so long.

Monday, September 09, 2002

Which tarot card are you?

What Psych-Ward do you belong to?

According to the Alien Abduction Test There is a 42% chance that I've been abducted by Aliens!

Which of Andrew's Friends are You?

I have no idea who this person is....
I was watching Sex and the City last night and I realized that I am Carrie (minus all of the bad relationships). I always wanted to be Miranda and sometimes Samantha and on the rare occasion Charlotte, but I realized last night that I am Carrie. I want the zsa zsa zsu as much as she does.

Miranda is the practical smart one. She has never needed a man to make her happy. Of course she enjoys the company of a man as much as the rest of them do, but she has never required one to be in her life in order to make her feel complete. She has a successful career, a child, a wonderful man who helps raise her child, and her own fair share of romance in her life. But she always wants more -- more from her work life, more for her home life, more from her romance. Me too.

Charlotte, I believe, needs a man in her life to make her feel complete. I think she comes from a very old fashioned New England purebred blue blood family that virtually requires her to not only marry someone but marry someone within her own social caste which is what makes her current relationship so fascinating because for the first time she has fallen for someone she never would have considered romantically. However, she now has to deal with the fact that she doesn't fit into his social caste.

Samantha revels in the fact that she controls her body and her sexuality. She knows what she likes and she freely goes after it (of course this is usually men but that's another story all together). Until recently she has exuded confidence in her demeanor from proudly flaunting her lebsian relationship to attending Carrie's book party after a horrible chemical peel. There are times when I really want to be more like Samantha. I want to be able to go up to the man I desire and make the first move. I want to have her self confidence both sexually and professionally. A friend of mine said that I am pretty much an "in your face" kind of guy -- a guy who says "what you see is what you get and if you don't like it get the fuck of here." I have no idea where he got that idea from since I consider myself to be as "in your face" as Mother Theresa appeared to be a stripper. I guess I have that facade of confidence when underneath I feel pretty vulnerable.

And that leaves me with Carrie. We are both hopeless romantics. We both like that feeling of loving someone and feeling the love in return. We like that feeling of just looking at someone and getting the butterflies in our stomach. We both find romance in the oddest of places. We are both looking for that warm tingling feeling of the zsa zsa zsu that will bring us to that next level in our personal growth where we are willing to sit down, make that firm commitment and go from there to face that wonderful unknown hand in hand with the person we love.

Zsa Zsa Zsu.

Sunday, September 08, 2002

Remember not that long ago when I talked about Rebekkah Revels, the Miss North Carolina who had to give up her title because of two naked photos her ex-boyfriend took of her while she was changing clothes. Now, my whole argument was that she should not have to give up the title because she did not pose for these pictures as they were taken without her consent and she was doing the very simple act of changing clothes. Regardless, she gave up the title (something I was opposed to) and decided that a few days later that what she did was wrong and sued not only to get the title back but to appear in the Miss America Pageant.

Here's where I have some mixed emotions. On one hand I do not think that she should have been forced to give up her title for pictures that had not been published and had been taken against their will. Therefore, I don't think there was any real reason for her to give up her crown. Then again, she did resign from the pageant and something has to be said about that. Personally, I think she should have waited to be fired from the pageant first and then she could have sued for wrongful termination. I don't know what to say about this one. Personally, I think she did the wrong thing by giving up her title (no matter how noble the action was) but I think she ultimately shot herself in the foot because of it.

Friday, September 06, 2002

I'm sorry but I still can't get over Roddy's eviction last night. I don't know what is bothering me more -- the fact that I have no WetBoxerBriefs!Roddy or the fact that Amy could have taken him off the block, almost took him off the block, didn't take him off the block, and now regrets not taking him off the block. I don't know whether to bitchslap Amy or feel for her. I do know that I want to take Marcellas, cover him in honey, and unload a jar of fire ants on him. He is one bitter bleeping queen who thinks he is "all that and a bag of chips" but when you really give him a good hard look, he is the crumbled chips at the bottom of the bag that no one eats and every throws away...Jason and Roddy are far sexier than he is and would get better modelling jobs than him. Marcellas, I hope to God you read this so you can learn that you have no star power and it's all in your head. I fear the people that run up to you and ask for your autograph in the streets because your head is going to swell so much it's going to explode.
Hey there...there are some new sales promotion in the store that are up for the month of September. You definitely want to check it out as it involves $$$ off on drinkwear and my new line of bags. Coming new line of fleece jackets and vests...

Thursday, September 05, 2002

So Miss.Sigh.....Roddy is more wet black boxer briefs in the hot more of people sending me naked pictures of Roddy coming out of the shower.... I don't know how I am going to be able to watch the show anymore. Okay, I am definitely going to be watching the show because I have to see Marcellas get booted from the house and maybe even watch Danielle because I think she is the next target. The real question comes down to when there are only FOUR players left. They really can't do a power of veto then because the person that gets POV can't pull someone off because there would be no one else to put up.

Marcellas you are not the star of the show and you are not getting into Roddy's pants! That's Freaky-Kiki's job!

Oh well...let's say a fond farewell to Roddy as you see him walk out of the house below...

Oh and if Jason from Big Brother 3 ever needs a massage...I'll be more than glad to help him out....a clinical massage of hanky Roddy on the other hand....
Soap box time again so you know the ground rules...if you don't like what I have to say you can just click that little message link and tell me all about it. And frankly, I don't care if you agree with me or not...No, this isn't about American Idol (glad to know Kelly won though). This is yet another tirade about parents, their children, and the Internet.

I was watching 48 Hours last night after American Idol finished and watched yet another story of a girl who was seduced by an older man online and later abused. Once again the parents takes no blame for not knowing what their child was doing on the Internet. Now, I am NOT saying that what this man did to the girl was right or correct or anything. I am NOT defending him in any way whatsoever. I just find it ridiculous that this girl's mother does not have the slightest bit of anger at herself for not paying closer attention to what her child was doing on the Internet. However, this man made it relatively easy for this child to fly to...get be with him. That's right, this wasn't a local was an international thing.

An open computer in a child's bedroom is not a cool thing. If a parent does not know what their child is doing online then they are part of the problem. The computer should be in an open area where parents can check on what their children are doing. So they can pass by and look over their child's shoulder and see what sites they are viewing or if they are in a chat room. AOL has parental controls that will limits sites that the children can go to, prevent them from receiving instant messages, and keep them out of chat rooms. Now, I know AOL isn't foolproof and I know that no single system is foolproof. But if you stick a computer with Internet access in your child's bedroom and don't watch or pay attention to what they are doing then you are part of the problem and you bear some of the blame. If you trust your kids THAT much then you are trusting too much.

Now here's part two of my rant. The story went on to show how when this guy went to court and the mother went to Greece to testify at the guy's trial and the judge said that there could be no trial without her daughter. The woman went into hysterics about how her daughter was going to have a mental collapse over this. Well, I have to say this...I agree with the judges. I was one of the few people who felt that a plea bargain in the John Walker Lindh trial was the best thing (even if I didn't agree with the sentence which I thought should be tougher). Would we rather have the trial, the re-trial on appeal, the second appeal trial and so forth over and over and over? A plea agreement was the best thing. In this case, the daughter's testimony was the crucial evidence needed.

What I also found interesting was that the mother was so sure that her daughter was just going to collapse under the weight of the moment and having to be in the presence of this man again. As it was a closed case, the mother, the camera crew, the daughter's shrink, etc all had to wait outside. The mother was hysterical that her daughter was going to breakdown in the courtroom and be a blubbering mass and no one would be there to assist her. Well the daughter, from what we could see through the keyhole of the room courtesy of the camera, the daughter was doing pretty well and even admitted to still loving the man that kidnapped her.

Finally, the man was sentenced to nine years in Greek jail. The mother was livid and said that if this was the United States he would have gotten twenty to twenty five years. Sorry, honey. You were in Greece and at the mercy of the Greek penal system. Some people think our jail sentences are too harsh. So face it. You have to play by a new set of rules and you don't even know what they are.

No, I am not advocating that parents turn into Draconian warlords and watch every little thing that their child does. All I am saying is that just keep an eye on them. Take a little look over their shoulder. Make sure you at least have an inkling as to what your child is doing. You can even go back and check the cookies and temporary internet files just so you can keep tabs on them.

As you can tell this really pissed me off....

Wednesday, September 04, 2002

And there is a new (646) Guy up and running...
Today has already started off bad. I got on the subway and wasn't paying attention when I sat down. I sat down in a small pool of water which made it look like I had wet my pants (in a reverse manner if you get my drift). So I walked to work with my bag banging against my butt and prayed that no one with a butt fetish took the time to look down there...It made me really wish that this company had installed those hot air dryers in the bathroom. Would have made my life so much easier.

And someone explain this to me...what is the point of going to the MTV Video Music Awards if you are just going to sit downstairs in the lounge and smoke?

And how many of *you* will I see there???

Can I just say that if Justin wins American Idol will be a travesty. Kelly outsang him all night long and was the much better performer. If this was Star Search she would be getting four stars! All of the online polls on MSNBC and on AOL have Kelly winning in a landslide. When I tried calling to vote I got in to Justin's line THREE TIMES after the first ten minutes of the show. Of course that meant I had to vote an equal number of times for Kelly just to balance it out...but that was ONE HOUR LATER and there were still some times when the lines were busy...

Tuesday, September 03, 2002

We have new episode of (646) Guy up and ready for you...enjoy!
I finished second in the Bloggys voting for Most Humorous Blog so I thank everyone who voted for me. It is greatly appreciated!

Anyway, today I had my interview with the HR department for that position in the team that I am currently working on. It went well but we shall see what happens. So far everyone that I have spoken to at this company loves working here which is a first for ANY company that I have worked at before. I also hear that the pay is above average compared to other companies. I am not going in expecting to make a bundle in my first year, but anything has to be better than what I am making now.

In other news...well there is no other news besides the fact that my roommate moved out and now I have a couch full of books that I plan on donating to the Salvation Army or something like that. I would donate to the local library but I don't believe they will come and pick them up. I know the woman at work here was interested in some of them so I need to put together a bag of them for her and whatever she doesn't take I will ditch somewhere. I think I am condensing about one entire bookcase when this is all over and done with....That is rather sad considering that I still have boxes of books that I am KEEPING....Oy vey I need to dump some more!

After books it's one thing leads to another....

Sunday, September 01, 2002

This news item was sent to me and I have to share it. So, with no rights or ownership implied...prepared to be inspired....

Woman in silent stand against Klan
Supremacist group ends Bowling Green rally moments later
By Deborah Highland
The Courier-Journal

BOWLING GREEN, Ky. -- Laquetta Shepard, a diminutive 24-year-old black woman
from Louisville with tears in her eyes, stepped into the middle of a group of
about five Ku Klux Klan supporters yesterday.

She said nothing.

But the fact that Shepard, a senior at Western Kentucky University, was there
with her arms crossed as she stood in silence, brought what was billed as a
major Klan rally to a halt 40 minutes earlier than planned.

''I cried when I first got there and heard 'nigger,' '' Shepard said.

Her original intent was to stand with sign-toting anti-Klan protesters, about
50 of whom were gathered in a cordoned-off area of the Warren County Justice
Center parking lot. In another cordoned-off area were about 15 Klan
supporters. Facing both groups were 14 robed members of the Louisville-based
SS Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. About 180 other people watched.

As the anti-Klan shouts began to drown out the Klan members, they began
blasting what they called ''white music,'' a rendition of ''Johnny B.
Goode,'' which was written and performed by black musician Chuck Berry.

After exchanging obscenities with the protesters, the Klan members said a
prayer for white supremacy.

Something came over Shepard and she decided to leave the protest area and
walk over to the area cordoned off for Klan supporters.

''They have the freedom to stand there and say what they want, and I have the
freedom to walk where I want to walk,'' Shepard said. ''They told me I was
standing in the wrong place.''

Shepard stood silently and trembled as tears streamed down her face.

A Klan supporter draped in a whitesupremacy flag leaned over the police line
and asked a Kentucky State Police trooper to remove Shepard. The trooper
shrugged and said the woman wasn't doing anything wrong.

About a minute later, the Klan supporters walked away, and the Klan members
packed their bags, loaded their cars and left.

''It was just getting hot, plus things were getting out of hand, so we just
wanted to pack it up and go home,'' Scott Smith, imperial wizard of the SS
Knights of the Ku Klux Klan, said afterward.

City and county officials, along with religious organizations and civic
groups, planned a Unity Day celebration as an alternative to the Klan rally,
and it drew nearly 1,000 people.

After the rally, Shepard left to attend that celebration.
Can I just say that my new reality TV crush is Roddy from Big Brother 3? All he would have to do is strip down in front of me to his boxer briefs, get in the hottub, smile at me, and I would be instantly in lurve. I mean the man is hot. He fills out a speedo quite well and...well...yeah it's a reality TV crush. I had one with John on Survivor 4 so I think I am entitled to have one more. I think the big part is that this guy is a smart guy. He's not dumb or flighty or anything. He's a smart guy. I like smart men. The tongue ring though....I dunno. Someone tell me that it would feel funny during a nice long kiss...with tongue of course...

Roddy covered in pie filling and whipped cream. Yum. Okay...fantasy time is starting and it's getting scary....