I applied to Teach for America and my final interview is this Tuesday, Feb. 10th. I'm a little (read: a lot) nervous. I have to come up with a lesson plan to "teach" to the interviewers and the other candidates. Let me know if you have an idea. I'm at a bit of a loss. I figure I should do one of my Spanish lessons, since it's what I've been doing every day for the past two months. Or we could analyze a poem. That would be harder. I don't know! Halp.

I'm updating this from the bathroom on jonnys itouch and it is infuckingcredible!!!!!!!!'

I gradumated finally! In August. I am just now finding jobs, in NJ. I tried in Atlanta but it was impossible. The job market is super hard. I might be a middle school music/spanish teacher or a high school teacher or a hospice chaplain at Red Bank's Riverview hospital or a college adjunct prof. Too many choices. But that's where I'm at so far. I just got back from FL from a cousin's bat mitzvah. It was a blast. I 'll put videos and pics on facebook. So, I'm going to try to update this a little more regularly.

Oh, and December 18th is a big day -- my grandfather's 90th birthday!!! So I'm going into the City to see him. Yay yay yay.

Job interview tomorrow. Freaking out. Eep.

can't you tell i'm totally writing a paper?

Hassel Castle. Baywatch musical. I love this guy.

8. Is there anything going on with your other iconic series, 'Baywatch'?
It's kicking around over at DreamWorks, but I don't know what's going to happen with that. A while back I tried to buy the rights because I wanted to do 'Baywatch' the musical. It would have been fantastic! But they're idiots ... they're all idiots. Corporate people only think of dollars and cents.

9. Aside from 'America's Got Talent,' where can your fans find you?
I'm really concentrating more on my music than television right now. I'm looking to buy a castle -- I'll call it the Hassel Castle -- where I can do concerts. I've also revamped my website, hasselhoff.com. If you log on, you can even join HoffSpace.

*jaw drops*
this
looks
so
awesome

http://www.sophiainstitute.com/productdetails.cfm?sku=264

Courtesy of Dappled Things, who links to Eve, who links to.... okay well here it is. Shakespeare Subway Map. Mind the.... *stops herself from being lame*


...gap



.... ing hole ...

....that has.....

....become....

...your mouth....

.....as you bask ....

...in the brilliance....

...of a clever schematic....

....of Shakespeare characters ....

...appearing as stops....

....on a map....

....of the London underground....

....kind of makes you want to fly in to Hamlet, transfer to the warrior line at Hotspur and take it all the way to Titus.........

..... I'm really going....

...to...shut up ...

...now.....

...




.


Jeanne I wonder if they sell this over there in fairy land!

Life. Last semester. Nights of endless Hebrew mixed with amazing times with Matt, my roommates and the other members of the Nerd Club at BC. A Game of Thrones and awesome weekend gaming with Jeff the Elder. Homework all-nighters in the common room with Jeanne. Watching Yellow Submarine with Jenny and Alexa. Getting into intense afternoon discussions, or having midnight doctrinal disputes with Tony. Beatles and Church music guitar sing alongs. Rushing over to Harvard Square via the wretched 86 bus. The Constant Gardner and Pan's Labrynth in Harvard Square. 1am runs to CVS for more soda. Playing Trivial Pursuit at Chris' place with Matt and Alecia. Weekend grocery shopping. Fire&Ice. Jumping around in the living room at 2am with Jeanne and Alexa, falling on the floor in an exhausted heap, and noticing the glow stars on the living room ceiling for the first time. These things matter. All in all, the semester was fun. Except Hebrew. That was hard. But the classes were good, and the other students in the class made it all worth it (yo, Allison!)

( Read more... )

And here I am. In Boston. Doing homework. Again. More to come later that isn't boring and update-y. I hope. For now, Dead Sea Scrolls!

So. Luna Bars. Yeah, I eat them. Like candy. Or gum. I eat like two or three (or four -- she says, sheepishly) a day sometimes. They're *that* delicious. Dulce de Leche? Best flavor ever. Chocolate Raspbery and Berry Almond, their newest flavors though, I'm dying to try. Last week I had their Chai Tea bar for the first time, and I like, but not as much as Oatmeal Raisin or anything with chocolate/caramel.

Jeanne is in England. This is fantastic except for the fact that she is greatly missed. I am currently in Boston. Doing the fifth year MA thing at BC in Theology. Still doing Hebrew. Still sucking at it.

Matt is in Atlanta. No comment on how annoyingly difficult and bleh this year will be as a result. We're making the best of it. I think. Read: Matt bought Guitar Hero and has recently asked for its hand in marriage. I'm totally jealous.

The good man (and now, HARVARD LAW GRADUATE as of June! Go congratulate him!) is working for a law firm there. His apartment is IKEA meets the Jetsons meets Totally Awesome. Seriously, dude. Awesome decorating. It's a good thing, too, that Matt has a sense of style because the desk I selected for my humble two-bedroom three-story walk up down the street from school (no A/C and it's still more than Matt pays for his place in Atl!) is representative of my complete and utter apathy in all areas of domestic design. My desk is a resin, plastic, standard metal frame table. It looks like this:



Functional. Roomy. Durable. Easy to move. Ugly as balls. That's me! But hey, a Star Wars table cloth will fix this thing right up.... I'm sure I'll get around to that .... yeah, never.

Tony is an awesome roommate, even though he must be very confused by the fact that I have been in this apartment for basically three days straight, doing almost nothing but reading. Mass today was a respite, but I feel guilty and sad that I missed ARCC.

Ever do some 500 pages worth of reading for classes and feel as if you know absolutely nothing about what you just read, or, for that matter, anything at all, period? If someone right now were to ask me, "What month is it?" or "What do you suppose is the difference between a butterfly and a lemur?" I would look at them blankly, perhaps blink once or twice, and then, drooling, droopy-jawed, and in the absence of substantive thought, hum "O Tannenbaum." Just because.

Adrienne, thanks for the quiz distraction.

School has defeated me. I am become death. Emo. Emo. Emo. Poo.

Hope all has been well in lj-land. Antonella, Brendan, Finke, everyone, I'm sorry for being sucktastic and never being on AIM or anything. I basically blow. Hard. Last semester pretty much took me for all I was worth (not much) and spit me out half-alive. 1/3 alive? Anyway, I could complain complain complain for hours but it suits me too well so I'll stop.

What is up with 2007? Does anyone else feel like it's an oddball, off-year? Or sense that certain something in the air, as if something just isn't right? It reminds me of scenes from Madeline stories, when that stupid nun old maid lady would always sense "something is not right" when her stupid little French orphans were up to mischief, sick, or getting raped by the devil.

Maybe it's the "Crazy Weather" (that poem is so good! I forget the name of the guy who wrote it but check it out, good poem!) -- a 70 degree Christmas, while amazing, and beach-football-enabling, is still pretty fucking weird.

So yeah. Updates should be more frequent now that I'm back to the old schedule of things -- that is, now I have classes that require only semi-moderate once a week all-nighters instead of three-day stints of crash and burn no-sleep binges. That sentence made NO sense! I wonder how many unnecessary gay-ass hyphens I can use in one paragraph.

I want to create a flash film involving Madeline, evil soul-consuming rats, and cheesecake.

Hahaha! Three random things together = not funny!

Miss you.

Also, Jeanne keeps me sane (relatively speaking, and disregarding this post -- she went to bed, thus sanity levels have significantly declined).

Oh! Enviga. Any opinions? Soylent Green of the future? Savior of all mankind or evil cancer-causing, zombie-creating conspiracy? TELL ME I MUST KNOW

 

The mind is astounding in its radical ability to dance between the dull and the astute. Does it all depend on who you talk to or how long you spend thinking?

Feeling significantly better. Just wanted to wish everyone a happy 41st anniversary of Nostra Aetate, the document that inspired my (foolish? ...masochistic?) decision to minor in Jewish Studies, learn Hebrew, study Jewish-Christian relations, and get my masters. Whew. It's pretty great, though. Oh, yeah, and happy halloween.

Sorry for freaking out.



In our time, when day by day mankind is being drawn closer together, and the ties between different peoples are becoming stronger, the Church examines more closely her relationship to non- Christian religions. In her task of promoting unity and love among men, indeed among nations, she considers above all in this declaration what men have in common and what draws them to fellowship.

One is the community of all peoples, one their origin, for God made the whole human race to live over the face of the earth.(1) One also is their final goal, God. His providence, His manifestations of goodness, His saving design extend to all men,(2) until that time when the elect will be united in the Holy City, the city ablaze with the glory of God, where the nations will walk in His light.(3)



It's even prettier in Latin.

Leia Solo8 (1:13:54 AM): man i suck
Leia Solo8 (1:13:55 AM): i SUCK
Leia Solo8 (1:13:57 AM): omg
Leia Solo8 (1:14:00 AM): i am so sucky and gay
PulpCruciFiction (1:14:42 AM): no, your stuff is great
Leia Solo8 (1:16:35 AM): in general
Leia Solo8 (1:16:36 AM): even so
Leia Solo8 (1:16:37 AM): I SUCK
Leia Solo8 (1:16:38 AM): omg
Leia Solo8 (1:16:41 AM): i cant write a fucking thing
Leia Solo8 (1:16:42 AM): fuck
Leia Solo8 (1:16:45 AM): why do i have to suck so hard
PulpCruciFiction (1:20:19 AM): no
PulpCruciFiction (1:20:21 AM): you do not
PulpCruciFiction (1:20:22 AM): i do
PulpCruciFiction (1:20:23 AM): hote
Leia Solo8 (1:20:53 AM): you dont..i just wish
Leia Solo8 (1:21:01 AM): i could DO THE SCHOOLWORK I NEED TO DO AND NOT GET DISTRACTED
Leia Solo8 (1:21:02 AM): WHY
Leia Solo8 (1:21:20 AM): I JUST SIT HERE FOR HOURS AND HOURS IN FATTENING SILENCE DOING NOTHING BUT PICKING MY ASSCHEEKS AND FUCKING AROUND ON THE INTERNETS
Leia Solo8 (1:21:22 AM): WHY GOD WHY


This semester is chiseling out the best and the worst, slowly and painfully. It's revealing everywhere the best in terms of what I need to /learn/ and /do/ to become a better person, but bringing out the worst in me. The more I study GKC the more I realize how diametrically opposed we are. Not just in obvious ways, such as He's a Genius and I Suck, or He is Logical and I Can't Think Straight for my Life, but, just, in disposition and personality. Naturally. He just seems so disposed to being happy. Was he ever depressed or discouraged? Of course, he was human, so he must have been sad. But did he ever let it show? Perhaps he was so public and self-stylized a figure he refused to let that side of him bog other people down? All I know is that I can't be like that, though I wish I could. I wish when people saw me, or talked to me, I could make them happier, instead of bogging them down with my bullshit and my baggy eyes. My whole visage betrays a selfishness borne of apathy; when people ask me how I'm doing (quite nice of them), I almost always respond with some variation of "eh, life, you know, it sucks."

Is it better to be honest or cheerful?

Sure, honesty is refreshing and post-modern. But if you are cheerful for the sake of others, you are forgetting yourself -- becoming selfless. To put the needs and considerations of others before your own is the essence of humility, which is to imitate Christ, who put our needs so thoroughly before His own He died with metal embedded in his wrists. But I don't feel like being crucified. But that's what it takes. To be Good. And Happy. You have to die to yourself. Like some irreverent pagan ritual, you have to offer up your body and soul to be broken and shared and used so that God can conform your will to His and remake you into a whole being. The burden is light, when you take up the yoke. The problem is taking it up in the first place. I'm too tired and lazy to even do that. I'd rather check thefacebook for the millionth time this minute. Even though I know that to finish this last page of homework and fucking write my reflection already would take maybe 15 minutes tops, and possibly prove edifying, even enjoyable....yet, here I am.

I am going to Hell for laziness. And gluttony. I have become even too lazy to lust. Or too tired, perhaps. Isn't that terrible?

The sad thing is, I had planned to update this weekend with a joyful post about my awesome Saturday afternoon adventure in Boston, where I ended up meandering all around the city, and somehow found myself kneeling in a confessional, weeping, a Franciscan friar pouring graces into my ear with his timely and poignant advice. Then I went to Mass. Alone, but in union with an exuberant Franciscan congregation, and of course all of Mother Church.

Um.

I think I'm a schizophrenic.

I'm in love.

(I know, it's been /forever/ -- more on that later, life is crazy, blah blah blah -- for now, enjoy.)

The Advantages of having One Leg
G. K. Chesterton
[From: Tremendous Trifles, 1909]

A friend of mine who was visiting a poor woman in bereavement and casting about for some phrase of consolation that should not be either insolent or weak, said at last, "I think one can live through these great sorrows and even be the better. What wears one is the little worries." "That's quite right, mum," answered the old woman with emphasis, "and I ought to know, seeing I've had ten of 'em." It is, perhaps, in this sense that it is most true that little worries are most wearing. In its vaguer significance the phrase, though it contains a truth, contains also some possibilities of self-deception and error. People who have both small troubles and big ones have the right to say that they find the small ones the most bitter; and it is undoubtedly true that the back which is bowed under loads incredible can feel a faint addition to those loads; a giant holding up the earth and all its animal creation might still find the grasshopper a burden. But I am afraid that the maxim that the smallest worries are the worst is sometimes used or abused by people, becasue they have nothing but the very smallest worries. The lady may excuse herself for reviling the crumpled rose-leaf by reflecting with what extraordinary dignity she would wear the crown of thorns--if she had to. The gentleman may permit himself to curse the dinner and tell himself that he would behave much better if it were a mere matter of starvation. We need not deny that the grasshopper on man's shoulder is a burden; but we need not pay much respect to a gentleman who is always calling out that he would rather have an elephant when he knows there are no elephants in the country. We may concede that a straw may break the camel's back, but we like to know that it really is the last straw and not the first.

I grant that those who have serious wrongs have a real right to grumble, so long as they grumble about something else. It is a singular fact that if they are sane they almost always do grumble about something else. To talk quite reasonably about your own quite real wrongs is the quickest way to go off your head. But people with great troubles talk about little ones, and the man who complains of the crumpled rose leaf very often has his flesh full of the thorns. But if a man has commonly a very clear and happy daily life than I think we are justified in asking that he shall not make mountains out of molehills. I do not deny that molehills can sometimes be important. Small annoyances have this evil about them, that they can be more abrupt because they are more invisible; they cast no shadow before, they have no atmosphere. No one ever had a mystical premonition that he was going to tumble over a hassock. William III. died by falling over a molehill; I do not suppose that with all his varied abilities he could have managed to fall over a mountain. But when all this is allowed for, I repeat that we may ask a happy man (not William III.) to put up with pure inconveniences, and even make them part of his happiness. Of positive pain or positive poverty I do not here speak. I speak of those innumerable accidental limitations that are always falling across our path--bad weather, confinement to this or that house or room, failure of appointments or arrangements, waiting at railway stations, missing posts, finding unpunctuality when we want punctuality, or, what is worse, finding punctuality when we don't. It is of the poetic pleasures to be drawn from all these that I sing--I sing with confidence because I have recently been experimenting in the poetic pleasures which arise from having to sit in one chair with a sprained foot, with the only alternative course of stinding on one leg like a stork. A stork is a poetic simile; therefore I eagerly adopted it.

( To appreciate anything we must always isolate it... )

Wow. I just watched the most ridiculous press conference evar (with an a, even). I learned two things. 1) Jon Stewart does a better Bush than Bush himself. 2) Our president isn't going to listen to congress, or anyone, about how to "succeed" in Iraq, because he "knows" he's doing the right thing (I suppose he has a little fairy in his pocket who can see the future).

Roughly quoted: "Saddam divided society and pitted political factions against one another in order to justify his presence and power."

Um.... isn't.... that... what... you... do?

Free Health Tip #1: If you exercise while watching presidential press conferences you'll burn more calories because of the added rage.

p.s. Levendus, I'll do your taggy thing soon. Sorry it's taking so long. I also spoke with Courtney a few days ago -- everyone is recovering and fine, praise God, and her boyfriend is walking and everything. Please continue to pray if you can, and thanks to all who have done so.