My friends are almost as weird as they are beautiful.

I don't think I've ever spent time at the Glick house without laughing so hard it hurts at least once.

"I aspire to be the person my dogs think I am." I'm not sure who said it, but it certainly holds true for me.

I am home now. I started my wood stove and fell asleep next to it. Zzzzzz.

On an unrelated note, watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yMYb8sq-jDU

My roommate's snoring is sporadic and ranges in intensity. Each individual snore is unique, I discovered, and I laid awake for several minutes listening to them. Some noisy inhales seemed to be posing a question, some seemed to demand something, while still others seemed to be adamantly claiming something.

The sociology class I'm currently studying for, "Urban Social Problems", has made me feel sickeningly privileged.

Today I made a film for a Spanish class with three other students. It was funny to see how our awkwardness and unfamiliarity faded as soon as we started filming and had to be goofy.

On a vaguely related note, I'm taking an acting class next semester! It fills the art requirement.

K, now back to the studying. I've decided that I need sleep, so I'm not plugging in my laptop. When it runs out of battery, so do I.

Currently: 43%. That feels about right, actually.

Sometimes I slightly lose control of my thoughts. So difficult to articulate this, here is the best I can do: Think of a pencil standing on its eraser. It just sits there, balanced. I get into these states where the pencil keeps tipping over in my mind, and no matter how hard I think about it staying balanced, it tips over.

It's fucking 1:30 in the afternoon on a weekday and I can't put up the shade because my roommate has the sleeping habits of a sloth (15-18 hours a day).

Our room is almost never lit by sunlight. I feel like a vampire.

Life is going by way too fast.

If I was dangerously close to dying from sleep deprivation, my body would just fall asleep, right?

I am writing a research paper on Jim DeMint. He is a terrible human.

Back from Chicago, which still smells like chocolate. It was a blast. I don't know why I brought school work, I never seriously thought about working.

Isn't it strange that you could go your whole life and only be exposed to a small fraction of society? I was thinking about this as I walked around the Gold Coast area of the city, observing the enormous industry that caters to the top 1% of the world.

At this point in my life, I feel pretty uncultured.

I am home for the first time since I've been in college.

It's warm here.

Last night, I slept on my right hand. It went so numb that when I rolled over in my sleep and it touched my face, I thought a bat was attacking me. I literally jumped out of bed and panicked.

In other news, I shaved my head. Not THAT short, but pretty short.

Also, the Yankees won the World Series, and I don't understand why this makes me so angry. It's such an irrational hatred.

Remember, remember, the 5th of November

The gunpowder treason and plot

I can think of no reason

Why the gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot

Most of my relationships here lack depth. This is frustrating.

Halloween was fun though, I danced around Mass. Ave with no pants on. I was Tom Cruise in Risky Business (in that one scene). The costume required a good deal of courage, and fortunately that comes in liquid form.

Limbo limbo limbo. My life in limbo.

Am I staying here? Why should I get attached to anything here?

I should add that I am so thankful for everyone I love.

If I lost one of my parents, I don't think I could function. How can one human's existence depend so much on another's?

It's so weird to think about love from a biological perspective.

Things are getting better. Case in point: I just received a text that read "Daaaaaance!". My friend Anna. She's great.

As Lanny said, college isn't conducive to blogging. For most of my fellow bloggers in college, this is because they don't have any free time, they're caught up in the excitement of their new life.

For me, I just don't have anything interesting to post.

I hope this changes.

Awful awful day:

I left my friends, after a weekend of experiencing the fun I'm not having at Northeastern.

The flash drive I was trying to mail was stolen by some asshole at USPS.

I locked myself out of my room again-- the R.A. literally just needs to walk 100 feet down the hall and let me back in and yet he takes fucking 15 minutes while I'm standing out in the hall.

And now I have to write a paper.

Sweet!

My bulletin board won't stick to the wall in my dorm.

Unfortunately, that's a damn good metaphor for how I've felt so far.

I like it here. I don't love it. But it's only been a week, I'm not going to draw any conclusions just yet.

I generally like the people here. There are many bros, but fortunately my floor seems to be occupied by just genuinely nice guys, not really bro-ish.

James, my roommate, is friendly and has excellent taste in movies, but is frustratingly antisocial.

Northeastern

I'm at college yay. Still finding a niche of friends, but the people I'm hanging out with now are a fun crowd. This guy Tim is hilarious.

Strangest character so far: A guy who has a huge Confederate flag hanging in his room, chews tobacco, has a bottle of Pedialyte (a children's vitamin supplement) in his room, and is on the Northeastern cheerleading squad. I know. Reread that.

I like the view out my window, it looks right out on to this courtyard. I hear bits of conversations, because there's benches on the ground outside my window. It's usually dumb people. There are too many bros and hoes. And girls in sweatshorts. But don't get the wrong idea. I like the majority of the people I've met so far.

I walked back to my dorm with a girl named Tessa, and we talked about how we're both a little insecure about finding friends.

28 Days Later was not as scary as we hyped it to be. Just a really well-made movie. Nonetheless, I still ran to my car from Phoebe's front door, and panicked as I struggled to get the car unlocked and started.

Did you know that the guy who directed Slumdog Millionaire also directed 28 Days Later? Danny Boyle. You could see the similarities.

I can't wait to be in college. Not so much the actual "being in college thing", but more because I'm so sick of the anxiety leading up to it. Most of my friends are settled in now, and I become more envious with every video iChat tour of their dorms. I want that. I want to be moved in and comfortable, goddamnit.

In the meantime, my life has consisted of painting the lake house and overstaying my welcome at Phoebe's.

I haven't been listening to music lately. Because I am always listening to podcasts from NPR. I can't help it. I currently subscribe to: Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, Talk of The Nation, Fresh Air, Story of the Day, 7 AM ET News Summary, and I just added This American Life and Stuff You Should Know. Also, APM's News from Lake Wobegon and The Writer's Almanac, both by Garrison Keillor. And of course The Onion Radio News. So that's a total of 10 programs, which doesn't leave much time for music.

My friends generally have very good taste in music, and if they're this goddamned obsessed (much to my chagrin) with Why?, then there must be something to it. So I'll give Alopecia another listen or two. If I can squeeze it in between all those podcasts.

I am sick of no sleep. But not sick enough to not watch a West Wing episode when I finish this blog.

I have zero motivation to do anything at all. Anything that I "should" be doing right now involves preparing for college. And in doing this, I would be acknowledging the fact that I'll be leaving in 13 days. 

The whole high-school-to-college thing is like a sick human experiment. They allow us to seek out the people we're most compatible with, become close with them, and then say "Time's up! Everyone go separate ways." I imagine they're watching us with clipboards and jotting down little notes. 

"Humans appear to be displaying depression" 

"Humans engage in 'hugs' frequently"

"Humans display emotional attachment"

How am I supposed to read Northeastern's required reading when there is so much West Wing to watch?

Tomorrow is Liz's last day, and I have high expectations for it.

I'm terrible at communicating. Consequently, I suck at goodbyes.

It's 3:47 am, and I have to get up relatively early. I'm just going to tell myself that I'll be fine painting all day tomorrow on 4 hours of sleep.

I just sneezed on my laptop screen.

Billsville

I am in Williamstown, MA with my cousin Chris (he has been mentioned a lot recently). 

We went out to eat with a couple of his friends. We played a game where we came up with arbitrary words that Matt (one of Chris's friends) had to use while talking to the waiter. It led to exchanges such as:

"How large is each potato skin?"

"Fairly big, they put a lot of toppings"

"Would it satisfy a lumberjack?

"Um, I don't know"

"How about the nachos? How large is the serving?"

"It would be about right for the four of you"

"Do they deliver the nachos in a truck?"

And so on. He tried to throw in "abortion", but it just wasn't going to happen. The waiter caught on that something was up (I was laughing hysterically) and we felt bad, so we told him what we were doing, and left a large tip.  Still, it was a really fun game.

I then lost $9.50 playing Hold Em' with far superior players.

I am going to watch The West Wing before I go to sleep. It is so so good. Next time you have mono (or just ample free time), watch it. 

Grand Theft Auto

I was awoken this morning around 5:30 am by my mother. With surprising composure, she told me her car was not in the driveway, where I had parked it last night. In an alarmed-yet-half-conscious state, I racked my brain, trying to think of why the car wouldn't be there. My mom eventually gave in to the inevitable conclusion: It had been stolen. 

I, however, was still trying to figure out what had happened. I thought up absurd scenarios. Perhaps one of my friends just borrowed it without asking (in the middle of the night?). I actually flirted with the idea that maybe, just maybe, I slept-walked out to the car, slept-drove it somewhere, and then slept-walked home. Of course I knew it really had been stolen, but I couldn't get out of semi-denial. 

I was still in this state when, around 10 pm, the police called. The car had been found abandoned in Fitchburg. They said that there was no visible damage, and we are picking it up tomorrow morning.

So all is well. Except my sense of Princeton, my neighborhood, as a safe haven, separate from the real world. It is shattered.

Family Reunion.

My family hosted roughly 100 relatives for what we call the "Russell Corner Reunion" (we're all distantly related to some Russell character?) It's a biennial event, but in the years between each reunion, everyone forgets the name of their 4th-cousin-twice-removed-on-the-Densmore-Perry-side. So, we actually have name tags, at a family reunion. (Chris and I named ourselves Ethan Vander-Planck and Paolo Garcia-Jimenez)

I enjoyed this RCR more than any other year, and I can credit this largely to my cousin Carolina, who I hadn't seen in several years. She's from Georgia, and speaks with a Southern drawl (Does that carry a negative connotation? I hope not.) It was fun to hang out with her, and it was hard to keep track of all the Southern slang.

We organized a Texas Hold 'Em tournament with a $20 buy-in, and I placed 4th (for which I won nothing.) I think I'm going to start playing poker more often.

The only low-point: My cousin's dog defecated on a rug.

Off to The Cape

Isn't there some quote about how children always tell the truth? Well whoever said it was full of shit. Or maybe children just have more moral standing in his neck of the woods. But in any case, some of the kids at the tennis program are just filthy liars. It is impossible to play any game that involves any kind of "honor system." They blatantly cheat, and then when we call them out, they blatantly lie about blatantly cheating.

An example from Simon Says:

"Simon says put your hand on your head"

A boy that vaguely  resembles a black version of Benjamin Button (at the beginning of the movie) fails to put his hand on his head.

"Suba, you're out, sit down."

"BUT I DIDN'T PUT MY HAND ON MY HEAD!"

"I know, and I said 'Simon says'

"I MEAN I DID PUT MY HAND ON MY HEAD!" *screaming with indignation*

"Suba, sit down"

Rock-Paper-Scissors, basic games of tag, whether the ball was in or out, they lie about EVERYTHING. 

Alright, I'm exaggerating. They're good-hearted kids, they just have a problem with REALLY wanting to win everything. People like that are so obnoxious. Self-deprecating irony LOL.

I was just more bitter than usual about it today because I got a whopping 4ish hours of sleep. And it was whopping. Whop whop whop. What a weird word. Whop. 

But seriously, my exhaustion was like a freight train chasing me all day. As long as I stayed moving, I was fine. But as soon as I relaxed for reading time, I was wrecked. 

And right after I finish this blog post (as my eyelids are drooping), I have to drive 2 hours the the Cape. SWEET! 

Quote of the day (a few days ago actually) comes from, surprise, the kids at camp. We're playing a game where, basically, you have to run across the court if you're wearing a certain color. The color is pink, and wearing none, I stay put. The kids yell at me, "Steve, you have to run, you're wearing pink. Your ACNE!" 

I LOL'ed at this, but have been washing my face more regularly ever since. 

Byebye.

Chicago

The Chicago River (not the Charles, I can't stop calling it that) runs right through the city, and smells like chocolate. Seriously, there was a delicious smell wafting through the air, always strongest directly in the middle of the crossing bridges. My cousin Chris and I tried in vain to find the source.

Quote of the day comes from a belligerent man we saw in downtown Chicago. He was walking down the street, telling anyone that would listen something along the lines of:

"Motherfuckers I'll kill you. What you looking at, BITCH? Fuck you. I'll knock you the fuck out."

Chris and I are pretty sure he never was speaking directly to us, but we still felt uncomfortable after about 10 minutes of his rant.

I should note that, aside from this insane man, everyone I've met in the area has been quite friendly. Chris was confident enough to attempt hitchhiking. 

Boston

Today I went to Boston to visit Loren Marshall at Harvard, with an assortment of fun people. Superb weather, we watched a great sunset from a bridge over the Charles. And a random man took a picture with us, and we promised to tag him on Facebook.

ANYWAYS. Roaring crescendo of the night: We found a rave in Harvard Square. I have never danced like that. We circled random strangers, and danced around them until they were free from the chains of their insecurity, and danced crazy with us. 

By the time we left (screaming and laughing, pretending to be running from something awful), we were pretty popular. People had cameras out.

Effing blasty blast.

Thunderstorm

Whenever I see lightning, I hope the thunder comes immediately. I actually want the storm to be directly over my house.  

My dog Misty is freaking out, and will probably pee on my carpet.

Tenacity Tennis Program

Work as a tennis instructor:

First, I need to mention Diego. I think he's the smartest 11-year-old I've ever encountered.  He's bilingual (English and Spanish). When we sat in a circle and introduced ourselves, he said he liked chemistry and astronomy (which sharply contrasted with the other campers' vague, boring answers). I asked him where he wanted to go to college, and he replied "Yale or MIT."  

Second, there's Carlos, an unruly child that speaks almost no English (Diego is his translator). I say almost no English because the other day, he came over to me, gave me a big grin, and said in my ear: "Steve, you're ugly."

That is the quote of the day, obviously.

Last summer:

I literally biked 400 miles from the center of Montreal to my front lawn. And then lived alone in New York City for a month, for an awesome internship. I ended the summer with a trip to Switzerland with Lanny.

 

This summer:

Except for a canoe trip, my only activities have been working and spending time with my friends. And this is exactly how it should be; we're going to college next year. They're all such great people. I am going to miss them.

So, this summer >/= last summer. That's greaterthanorequalto.

I probably only read about a third of the stories in Ant Farm by Simon Rich, and I can honestly say it's the funniest thing I've ever read. Laughing so hard I couldn't breath.

Collective lack of self-consciousness is the best. 

QOTD: "I'm Hollywood and I don't fucking go to NYU!"

QOTD: "You're strange-ing me outWAIT WHAT THE HELL?"

I saw Transformers 2, and it was just too noisy. I would have enjoyed the action sequences much more if it didn't sound like rocks in a tumbler the entire time. Visually stunning, audibly awful. Is audibly a word? No red line underneath, it must be. I don't think it makes sense in that sentence though. But you get my point. 

Happening right now: I need to finish Naked. So I can read The World According to Garp. Or A Prayer for Owen Meany. They're written by the same author, right? Yeah they are. I just googled it. John Irving. 

As I drive home from social gatherings, I always become nostalgic about whatever just happened. I try to savor the memory while it's still fresh in my mind. I think about everything everyone said, about looks that were exchanged, about little things that can be significant. 

I think about it now, before it becomes a vague "Oh yeah, we hung out at Parker's that night".

I feel really really really just really fortunate to have my friends. 

Happening right now: I'm listening to Sufjan's album Michigan. The songs, they enter my ear canal and massage my brain. 

Oh and also: I might start adding a "Quote of The Day" section to this blog, because I'm not quite up to a picture or a song everyday. The quote of today is, well, anything Phoebe sang while "singing along" to Semi Charmed Life. 

All people want is to love and be loved. 

My heart is so full!

To sum up the past week:

I paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled and paddled.

My hands hurt. My arms hurt. My shoulders hurt. My ass hurts. I hurt.

I'm leaving for a week to canoe down a river in Maine. Phew. 

Thank goodness I don't actually blog about anything serious. 

Falling asleep to the sound of rain is fantastic. Here is my textual interpretation of this rain:

pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh pshh psh pshh...

My point being that it is so so so soothing. Hopefully it won't subconsciously motivate me to urinate. I haven't wet the bed since I was ten. 

Anyways.

Today, I ran out of gas. My accelerator just suddenly stopped working. Fortunately, I was within a few miles of my house, and after a short time, my neighbor brought me a few gallons of gasoline (he's a really nice guy). During that time, however, someone decided it was necessary to call 911 about a car on the side of the road, so a police officer pulled up, lights flashing, making it appear as though I'd been pulled over. Considering that he asked for my license and registration, and many passerbys gawked at me, I might as well have been.

My day improved later. It was Kelsey Lee's birthday, so we all went to her house for dinner. Kelsey said it was "formaly", but there was a spectrum of attire, from casual (Jeff, Lanny) to dressy (me, Michela). We DP'ed in her basement to mainly-awful-but-also-mainly-good music, like that "skeet skeet skeet" song. 

We also did some filming for our documentary. Phoebe, if you're reading this, I forgot to give you the camera/you forgot to take it. 

Happening right now: My back aches from not slouching all day.

Last night, I went to a Middle Eastern food restaurant called El Basha with some guys. We had "bro night", and smoked a hookah. I really enjoyed the strawberry kiwi flavor, which tasted exactly like Snapple in gaseous form. 

A giant sleeping baby loomed above us while we ate, because our outdoor table was right below a billboard featuring an infant. Lanny commented that Michela would have loved this.  

Happening right now: I'm reading Naked by David Sedaris, and it's wicked funny. The chapter about all the "tics" he had as a child is so great. An excerpt: "I took to violently shaking my head, startled by the feel of my brain slamming against the confines of my skull. It felt so good and took so little time."

Today: 

I went to Comet Pond in the morning with my cousin. We entered the water in two ways: 1) Jumping off a high diving board into an area of questionable depth 2) Using a rope swing of questionable strength.

Later, I went to Lanny's graduation party, where I played volleyball and didn't get too competitive. I would credit this to maturing, but it was probably because I was on the winning team.  

Then, we drove to Jen's graduation party at the Sandwich Co., where I saw Kate Sheridan (Hi Kate! You said you read my blog, so this is a shoutout. Via blog). 

Afterwards, we drove to the Dawson Rec playground. We all took turns trying to run in a straight line after spinning on this spinning-thing. We also rode those weird kiddy-car-on-a-giant-spring things. And I failed at climbing up the tube-slide-thing. What the hell do you call things on a playground, toys? Rides? Fun-makers?

We left the playground, and after wasting an hour driving to Barnes & Noble (we arrived at 8:56, they close at 9), we decided the best way to spend our time was to lay on blankets in Lanny's yard. I enjoyed this, except when a) body parts were exposed to the cold air because my blanket was so goddamned inadequate and b)I wasn't allowed to move, because I was acting as a pillow. 

In retrospect, this was a fun, albeit unproductive, day. Wait, it wasn't unproductive! I was with friends.

Happening right now: I still feel nauseous from the spinning-thing.

Imagine if you drew a picture of a song.

Or painted what a song would look like. Can you imagine that?

I have a Facebook, a blog, and now a Twitter. Overkill. I don't think anyone cares about my thoughts that much.

I have a headache on the right side of my frontal lobe. Ah, AP Psychology. I wish I'd started blogging while I was still in that class. I like to apply psych terminology to my life, but now I can't remember most of what I crammed into my brain for the exam. What I encoded into my short term memory, I should say.

If thinking about thinking is metacognition, what is blogging about blogging?

Song of the day is "I Try" by Macy Gray. It's the song of every day, forever and ever. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qsTk2xp0nvY

Happening right now: This headache has fluctuated between barely detectable to throbbing for a few days now.  

Listen:

Today, I bummed around my house until 330, and then went to a tennis team dinner. Tennis has been a huge part of my high school life, it hasn't set in that there isn't a "next year". Although, I get to play lots of tennis this summer with my coach and Brian (a mild-mannered junior friend), because I'm working as a tennis instructor.

After the dinner, I killed an hour, and went with Liz and people to see Phoebe play flute at Mechanics Hall. She's really good, and makes a funny face when she plays. Afterwards, a guy with a serious neck problem wouldn't stop talking to Phoebe and Liz. I felt bad for him, he clearly was in perpetual discomfort. Or atleast it seemed that way. 

 

Then, I got 7/11 (that's Seven Eleven) slushies with Liz, and was disgusted by the "Double Big Gulps" they sell. It looked like it could hold 900 oz. 

Happening right now: Here is my plan. I want to lose track of time before I go to bed. I've turned the clocks in my room face down, and put a Post-It on the clock in the upper right of my computer screen. I'm going to completely cover my windows with blankets with windows, so the room has no light. I won't know when the sun is up. I WILL BE COMPLETELY UNAWARE OF THE TIME. This way, I'll sleep until I FEEL like getting up, and not feel pressured by the clock. My circadian rhythm will be perfectly on schedule. 

"Bursting with the belated eloquence of the inarticulate." 

Today, I saw this phrase. It sums up how I feel after just about every discussion, debate, or argument I've ever had.

Happening right now: Phoebe and I came up with one HELL of an idea. We're going to create a documentary of this summer. Basically, we'll bring my video camera to social events, and record what happens. We'll conduct interviews with people, and there will be little subplots that focus on different people's relationships and such. We'll add in music and subtitles, and perhaps voice-over commentary. It'll begin this Saturday on graduation, and it'll end when we all are saying goodbye (God, I do not want to think about that). And at the end, we'll all take a copy of the DVD to college.  

I just arrived home from Vermont. On the drive home, I had no iPod, so I had a lot of time to think. And focus on not crashing my yellow 1987 Volvo station wagon, which was a tremendous task, because the car shakes and rumbles and grumbles on the highway (her name is Elenor). So, I thought about all the stuff I want to blog about, but now I can't recall most of it.

Anyways, Vermont was excellent. I love when I'm reminded just how great friends are. Last night was one of those reminders. We played cards and DP'ed and talked the night away. And our judgement really wasn't too bad. It was great. 

In other news, Ms. Hedberg emailed me back about the film festival, and told me that my film deserved to place, and that she was going to show it to future filmmaking classes. So that made me feel good. 

Happening right now: I have to leave for Bonardi's Tuxedo Rental to pick up that dress shirt from them, even though it's not actually the one I rented. So I'm going to return the wrong shirt to Mr. Tux, and I don't care. They can suck it. I'm going to Bonardi's for my tux next time. The guy there was really friendly. 

A Loss For Words

So here is "A Loss For Words". It won 5 Drammy Awards- Best Picture, Best Cinematography, Best Sound, a Best Cameo for Kathryn, and I picked up a Best Actor. Enjoy:

Blog?

Listen:

I just created a blog. Exciting. Today started off really badly:

• I woke up at 7 having slept roughly 3 hours, and had to play a playoff tennis match (I hope my coach doesn't read blogs).
• My doubles partner and I lost our match, and our team lost 4 matches to 1. To St. John's. Season over, high school tennis career over.
• I volunteered at Bikes Not Bombs, which was fine, other than almost tearing the skin on my hand trying to adjust a bike seat.
• Then, I went to the Wachusett Film Festival with high hopes for my film "A Loss For Words." I'll post a link later. Unfortunately, it did not place, and frankly, I was dumbfounded by the judges' choices, one film in particular. But oh well.
• Then I find out that I took Josh's dress shirt, Michela brought me Dan's dress shirt, and Dan had taken my dress shirt and returned it with his tux. So, tomorrow, I have to drive to Bernardi's, explain the situation, switch dress shirts, and drive to Mr. Tux. Does that make any sense? It doesn't to me either.

But it was fine after that. I met friends at Jumpin' Juice and Java, then ate with the fam, then hung out with the same friends at Michela's. Then came home and started this blog.

I would go into detail about prom, but a) you were probably there if you're reading this blog and b) my writing isn't good enough to do it any justice. SO, I'll be concise: It was a blast. 

Happening right now: Jeff Greene won't tell me how to make awesome smiley faces on Facebook chat. That bitch. Oh wait, he's going to tell me, even though it's top secret. Oh wait, actually, he said to just google it, because it would be too hard to explain via Facebook chat.

*Jeff came up with the title to this blog. He's a creative guy. I ought to post "Morbid". Or he should, actually. It's his masterpiece.