Well, I finally caved in and decided to try my hand at googlewhacking. After a few attempts I did succeed with follicular fabulousness which garnered me the rather mediocre score of 268,464,000.

This is all I need another excuse to avoid doing any real work. Along with my new dependency on Text Twist, I now have googlewhacking. When I get tired of one I can move on to the other, thus ceating a vicious and unending cycle of non-productivity.

NB: while these two diversions are good for avoiding work, they should NEVER be used as a cure for insomnia.

 
I am in the midst of cleaning the room and decided to post rather than figure out what to do with all my books. There have ben some interesting finds: cassette tapes of Vanilla Ice (I probably shouldn't have admitted that), Benadryl that is at least seven years old (might come in handy), a note from my grandmother from my first communion (awwww), and countless photographs (some may make it here).

I also came upon my issues of National Geographic, which I just couln't bring myself to throw away. What is it about this magazine that entices people to save it. No one ever throws it away. When you go to book sales and garage sales there are always old copies of National Geographic available. And people always buy them.
The magazines are rarely cherished for scientific or anthropological reasons. There is something more.

Do we hold on to them because they give us glimpse into far off and exotic places? Maybe, but then why not just read them and throw them away after. I think, at least for myself, that these magazines awaken a sense of adventure in me that hasn't existed for a long time. It's that youthful adventure that exists only in the world of the imagination. The places in National Geographic are the places that your backyard always became when you were outside playing with friends. Flipping through the pages of these old issues sparks that naive and innocent sense of wonder I had as a child. It's nice to be able to revisit places I've never really been. So, for now, my copies of National Geographic are stored on the top shelf of my closet, for whenever I want to go back.

 
Currently celebrating because I finally found Kiki and Herb mp3's on Morpheus.

Stay tuned . . . news at ten

 
Come on, you know you want to. Just play one game. It's not like it's addictive or anything.

Curses to Leather Egg for discovering this link.

 
I just discovered that Mary J. Blige will be re-releasing No More Drama this Tuesday with two new remixes and two bonus tracks. This means that either Mary is one workin' bitch and busily churning out some shit, or she has a good marketing department behind her.

Either way, I will probably spend my hard earned $15.00 on it.

 
Today I've been feeling pretty maudlin, as the playlist indicates (Natalie Mercant and Radiohead? Yeah, I'm reeeaaal happy). I just feel like I am chasing my own tail sometimes. It's as if no matter how hard I try, I am getting nowhere.

It seems as if there will be a mass exodus from work. Theresa (the deli manager) put in her two weeks notic last Friday and now Terry has put in his. I am soon to follow as soon as I can find another job (I am currently saturating the city with job applications. For my next job I refuse to be in a kitchen. While I do love to cook, I have no desire to make it a career. I'd rather wait tables, or god forbid, go back to making coffee). And I know of two, possibly three other employees that will be following in my footsteps. The Cellars of River Ridge seems to be falling apart and I for one have no sympathy. It seems that things are getting shittier there everyday. As the owner's children's presence at The Cellars increases, the quality of the workplace decreases (exponentially). The rest of the employees have become the scapegoats for what his children do wrong (Yeah, nepotism!). It's going to be really interesting in three weeks when his daytime luch staff has been cut in half. Soon, he's going to have no one left to blame but his children.

 

Pierre Bourdieu
"to the left of the left"
August 1, 1930 - January 24, 2002


His death was actually the lead story in Le Monde, if that gives you any idea the impact this man had on the world.

(thanks to cultstud-l for the notification.)

 
Lately, I have been thinking about my plans after I graduate in May. I am seriously leaning to applying to only the grad schools in the UK for the fall. The idea of living abroad is appealing to me more each day. For one, it only takes a year to get a masters in the UK as opposed to two years in the US. Secondly, I would get to see a great deal of Europe while I am over there because travel between European nations is relatively easy due to their close proximity to one another. Thirdly, leaving the US for a year would force me to do some much needed growing up as well as broaden my perspective on the world.

I guess that I better learn to like Marmite then, right Jonno?

 
Tonight I was playing around on the internet trying to avoid doing any real work and I came upon an article which puts the Star Wars Lord of the Rings debate into an interesting perspective. Not that I am in any way invested in the debate. I just thought that the article was smartly written and made some very good points.
Besides, Elijah Wood is soooo much more attractive than Mark Hamil could ever hope to be (without the hobbit feet of course).

 
Today I was asked by a friend how I wanted my name to appear on my invitation to her wedding. Now this question is fairly benign in it's own right, but its symbolism is much more powerful. I have reached a stage where many of my friends are starting to get married. Having never left my hometown, I often see, andd in fact work with, many of the people I grew up and went to school with. The number of these people who are engaged or married or have a child, is growing steadily by the day. I haven't even graduated college yet. I can't even begin to think of settling down and spending the rest of my life with one person. I can't decide if I want to go to grad school right away or wait a year. How can I be expected to choose a mate for life?

For that matter, marriage as an institution doesn't even appeal to me. Now granted, as a gay man, I couldn't be legally married if I wanted to, excepting a few places. But still, the idea of having a piece of paper that binds me to another person seems unnecessary. Is there any reason why that committment can't be made without the sanction of the state/religion?

But all of those issues ar far away. Right now I am enjoying being single. I like the little existence I have carved out for myself. This isn't to say that if some tall, dark man (or short, blond man; I'm not picky) came along I wouldn't even consider it. That probably won't happen any time soon though. Let's face it, it is much easier in theory and according to your friends to meet people than it is in reality. For instance, this past Saturday, at Dramarama, there were cute boys running every which direction (and they were dressed in black -- yum). To top this off, my horoscope predicted strong sexual energy for the evening. So much for that materializing into anything. I found myself playing Game Cube with Jason at 5:00 am

For now, I will plug along with my mediocre, but low responsibility existence. We shall see what time will bring.

 
I just felt the need to add to my post from Sunday. Why I didn't include this then, I don't know. Maybe it only seemed funny now in retrospect.

I am fairly sure that the reason that we didn't exactly blend in with the crowd at Dramarama is because we tried not to. Let me paint a little picture for you. There we are, the five of us, John, Cassie, Jason, Jason's mom, and myself standing upstairs outside the Lupin gallery at the Contemporary Arts Center. Unlike the other attendees around us who are no doubt having deep and scintillating conversations, we are drinking and chowing down. Yes there were food and beverages available, but we chose not to go that route. Instead, we had opened up both the bag of chex mix from Jason's performance as well as the bottle of wine. We are all standing there shoveling chex mix down our throats as Jason is removing the cork from the wine with his teeth while still wearing Jewish old-lady drag. Had they put us behind a velvet rope or a pane of glass, we might have been perceived as live surrealist art. Though, in reality, we were just the group that people turned their noses up at for most of the evening. Oh well, we had fun anayway.

 
I just got home from Tulane's library researching my project on drag and images of monstrosity. Yes, it was due last semester. I still got an A for the class, but feel compelled to turn it in.
Anyway, I digress from my diatribe. How is it that I, along with roughly 10,000 other undergraduate students, paying about $30,000 a year to attend Tulane can't get a decent library. The past dean of libraries was fired over a year ago, and still nothing has been done. For those of you who care, and even those of you who don't, here is a list(heavily abridged) of my grievences:

1. There are catacombs with better lighting
No, seriously

2. Consider a more creative shelving solution
Not only are books on shelves, the logical place for them in a library, but also stacked on the floors in all of the aisles (this is only because the overflow carts filled up years ago). As a result, not only can't anyone fit on an aisle, but a book could easily be "shelved" on a shelf, on the floor, or on a rickity cart that is so tightly packed among the other carts, that you can't get to it anyway.

3. When books have been lost, remove them from the catalog
After searching for some books on Langston Hughes for a paper last year, in a state of utter exasperation turned to the usually helpless library staff for help, only to be told that those volumes had been missing for at least 5 years.

4.Could the cell phone ban actually be enforced
I really don't need to hear a sorority girl rave about her new Kate Spade purse while I am trying (poorly) to understand Judith Butler theorize about Julia Kristeva (waaay to abstract for me). Though it does make for an interesting contrast.

5. Some ideas (i. e. Electronic Reserve) are better in theory than in practice
Putting articles on electronic reserve only results in hard to read, grainy, documents. Besides, photocopying articles took one-eigth the time for it to load into Acrobat and wait for it to print out of one of the libraries two printers.

6. Did some sadistic librarian develop the floor plan?
There is no real order to the way in which books are shelved. The library claims it is by subject, but that isn't exactly accurate. Throwing darts at a target would have produced a more organized result through pure chance. Someone had to work to get things this disorganized. Here is an idea -- arrange by call number. Start with the lowest numbers on the bottom floor and have them increase to the highest numbers on the third.

This is only a short list of my library issues which I will hopefully abandon in May. Until then, I will survive the only way I know how, use Loyola's library.

P.S. This diatribe has nothing to do with exorbitant overdue fees I currently owe Tulane's Library.

 
Just in case you didn't know, yesterday was National Sanctity of Human Life Day. I am always encouraged when the government decides that human life American life is sacred. It's comforting to know that our president is not only prone to extremely centrist thinking, but also pointing out the obvious.

 
Ever pondered which libation you might be? I've discovered that I would live the life of a brandy alexander. Not exactly a glamarous drink, but I guess it suits my personality. This of course begs the question: Which drink are you?

 
Last night I went to Dramarama at the CAC. It is a showcase for new and original theater in New Orleans. The Times Picayune likens it to Jazzfest for theater. Not quite. At jazzfest there would be port-o-lets, dirt, heat, and that ever so appealing horse smell. Don't get me wrong, I love Jazzfest, I just don't think it would be an appropriate venue for theater.
Dramarama was at the CAC in the wherehouse district. We mingled with a lot of people dressed in multiple hues of grey and black. I recognized a number of people but knew almost none of their names. (I've probably seen them on the society page, which means they all have names like Barret and Carlton and Butler) I did see some familiar faces though, like Richard and Jonno as well as some friends from school. I did enjoy myself, though. I saw a piece that a firend of mine Jason wrote and performed. He was amazing, though I actually liked his Wednesday night performance better. I also got to see some Indian dance which was stunning and a troupe of belly dancers which blew me away. All in all, the night went well. I intend on returning next year, maybe I will know more than four people in attendence by then.

 
Earlier this evening I went to that bastion of all that is mediocre -- Denny's. I know it's not quite haut cuisine, but it hits the spot for cheap, late-night food and coffee.
While paying at the register, I noticed a flyer which completely floored me. Denny's was asking patrons to help them raise over $1 million for the National Civil Rights Museum. Upon seeing this, I was very conflicted. On one hand, this is for a very good cause, but on the other, this is coming from a restaurant who only a few years back had to settle a $54 million lawsuit for not serving African-Americans. While I understand the PR implications of this, isn't this maybe just a bit overboard.
See what happens when you eat greasy food this late at night -- you find yourself blogging about pointless Denny's PR campaigns at 2:40 am.

 
Today, in my feminist TV criticism class, I was introduced to the world of cooking in the 1950's, according to Better Homes and Gardens. Apparently, along with the rise of suburbia came suburban cooking. I am not talking about meatloaf or tuna casserole. No, no, I am talking about the epitome of suburban foodstuffs -- JELL-O. That's right, that tasty, jiggly, refreshing treat we have all grown to love. But, as I discovered today, JELL-O is so much more versatile than you could ever imagine.

Between the covers of Better Homes and Gardens, was a veritable cornicopia of JELL-O recipes. While there were recipes for the obvious fruit and JELL-O molds, there were also culinary creations that I could never have imagined. Who would have thought to combine cranberry JELL-O, celery, pecans, mayo, and canned chicken meat into a delicious and aesthetically pleasing loaf. Doesn't appeal to you? Well maybe you should try a Spinach Souffle Salad made with lime JELL-O. Or, if you're not a spinach fan, try the Spanish JELL-O Salad. There were recipes calling for beef and pork and numerous vegetables with different flavored JELL-Os. Of course, in almost every issue of BHG that we perused, one could always find the ubiquitous Tomato Aspic, a concoction that is little more than lemon JELL-O and tomato juice (tasty!). I am not quite sure how this JELL-O fad came into fashion, but I am sure glad that it fell out of it. I can't even bring myself to eat the fruit-filled JELL-O mold that my aunt makes for holidays, much less the concoctions out of Better Homes and Gardens. So next time your looking for something a little different to eat, don't forget about one of America's favorite snack foods.

 
I just want to know who decided that the president's choking and fainting escapade is such big news. Seeing the evning news, you would have thought that the president had suffered a heart attack. I actualy heard one anchor say, "Despite a fainting spell yesterday, the president still traveled to Louisiana today." Of course he did, you dolt. The man choked on a pretzel and fell off the couch. He suffered a "mild abrasion" on his face; he didn't become a parapalegic. The media is treating this like it is major news. Who cares about the Enron scandal or the war(?) in Afghanistan? We need to know that the president has problems chewing.

The only way that I can see this being even remotely noteworthy is if other high government oficials suffer the same plight. Then theories could be made that this is bin Laden's next attck on America. Has he infiltrated the snack food industry. What's next, deadly potato chips and cheese puffs? I think that Tom Ridge should be investigating this as a possible breach of homeland security.

If nothing else, I hope some clever individual develps a successful ad campain for Rold Gold. Maybe Barbara Bush could be their next spokesperson.

 
"I'll trade you a Michel Foucault for a bell hooks." If there was ever a blog-worthy link on the web this is it. Anyone interested in social theory/pop culture action figures and trading cards? I know I am.

 
On Friday night, some friends and I went to see Lord of the Rings. The movie, which is excellent by the way, got us thinking (and not just about how hot Elijah Wood has become, sans Hobbit feet, of course). We ere discussing how the fantasy genre has been revitalized with films such as LOTR, Harry Potter, and even Star Wars. Along with this renewed interest in fantasy, has come a new interest in little people. Don't laugh; it's true.

Lord of the Rings is filled with hobbits and dwarves. Willow has recently been released on a special edition DVD and the preview for the new Austin Powers movie is filled with nothing but midgets. It seems that right now little people (is that PC?) are quite a hot commodity in Hollywood. Before we know it, Zelda Rubenstein and Warwick Davis(Willow) may be able to get top dollar for a picture and Under the Rainbow may have its own special edition DVD. I guess we will just have to wait and see.

 
I've already missed a couple of days worth of posting and I've barely had this blog for a week. That doesn't seem very promising.

Despite my last post, I never did make it to the Herman Leonard exhibit at the library. However, I did go see NORD's production of Pippin Thursday night. It was pretty good. I had never seen the show before and am glad that I was introduced to it. The production wasn't the best ever. The woman who played the grandmother was unexpectedly entertaining. My friends and I theorized that she was probably an escaped Alzheimer's patient who wandered onto stage. She barely knew the words to her one and only song, and when she came back out for curtain call we were pretty sure that all she was thinking was "Who are all these people?" and "What am I doing here?"

 
I'm not really sure what happened with yesterday's post. It started out with a point and then just sort of lost all focus.
Anyway, I read that there is supposed to be a Herman Leonard exhibit at the New Orleans Public Library through Jan 14. I am disappointed that I missed the talk he gave last week to open the exhibit, but am determined to go and see the exhibit during my 4 hour break between classes today. Will report on it this evening.

 
Tomorrow, or tecnically, today, marks the beginning of my last semester of college. I will be returning to the world of cultural/media/gender/queer/rhetoric/performance/communication studies. And in just five short months, someone is going to allow me to walk across a stage and receive a college degree. To many of my classmates, graduation holds the impending threat of what many call "the real world" No, not the as-far-from-reality-as-possible reality series on MTV. I am talking about he place where we go to inevitably become our parents. I though, will delay this as long as possible by following my current career path of perpetual student. I am going to grad school. As for where I am going, I haven't a clue (I hope no one thought I had that much foresight). Instead, I will wait to see who wants to give me the most (read: any) money. Wherever it is, rest assured, it will not be anywhere near the city that seasons forgot, New Orleans.

 
There are times when I really appreciate the internet. Sure it brings the world together and all that crap, but more importantly, it makes websites like this and this available to everyone.

 
I find it sad that I can live in a city that supposedly has so much to offer and still find nothing to do. I guess that after living here for over 22 years, things seem to get a bit stale. I think maybe I just need to get out of town for a little while. However, that is not likely to happen seeing as how I start school on Wednesday. I guess that I will just have to suffer through my usual routine for a little while longer. At least I have friends coming in for Carnival. That should hopefully make this year a bit more interesting. I guess we'll see.

 
Could someone explain to me the use and purpose of horoscopes? How is it that I am going to ignite a flame with a co-worker, get caught up in trying my hand at computer graphics, and make unexpected travel plans all in the same day? Just what are unexpected travel plans anyway -- a trip to the grocery or a vacation to Fiji -- or something in between? And how come I am always supposed to have the potential for love, but never anything more than potential? More importantly, why do I continue to read my horoscope day after day?

 
well, after months of peering into the lives of other bloggers, I felt it was my turn to publicly display my personal life so that millions of internet users can continue to ignore it.