No, I have not given up my blog.

I just didn't have anything to say. But now I do, or at least I have stuff that someone else has said that I feel like posting here. That's something.

From the blog of style rookie, a "Tiny 13 year old dork that sits inside all day wearing awkward jackets and pretty hats. Scatters black petals on Rei Kawakubo's doorsteps and serenades her in rap. I have no where near 4 million readers. Rather cynical and cute as a drained rat. In a sewer. Farting. And spitting out guts.":

People like Anna Piaggi, Lynn Yaeger, Julia Frakes, Isabella Blow, Daphne Guinness, Vivienne Westwood, Iris Apfel, Grace Jones, David Bowie, Little Edie, Diana Vreeland, Bjork, Marchesa Luisa Casati, Catherine Baba, Anna Dello Russo...these people that dress to extremes simply because of a very deep, pure love for fashion...are inspiring to me.

And then people like this girl in FRUiTS, or mad old women, or funny toddlers, who dress for the same reasons and may not even know it's called fashion, inspire me as well. They make me want to write a story using what's in my closet, or in a kitchen cabinet waiting to become some type of headpiece.

And that, in the end, is all I want to do. Use my resources, and just have fun with dressing. Weirdly enough, it's when people anywhere-outside, in school, online-don't understand my outfits or style that motivates me to just be stranger. Not that I think I'm Bob Dylan or some type of ENIGMATIC ARTISTE or an artist at all, but this refusal of others to try and understand why somebody dresses a certain way (for which the real reasons are, in the end, nothing complex) just makes me want to dress more obnoxiously. Be more difficult to understand, more over their heads.

Or, I'm a malicious and spiteful teenager!

But really, I love it when I love my outfit and I walk from class to class and feel like I'm practically floating. My head is bobbing around like Bjork's when she walked for Jean Paul Gaultier and I just feel very confident in myself, not because I think other people will like my outfit but just because I do. And maybe even because I know other people won't like it because it isolates me and I can be in my own world for a bit. And it makes me feel good, and being creative makes me feel good.

And I think that is all I really want to do, and have ever wanted to do. The idea of being a mad eccentric who is constantly slipping into different skins is so appealing to me. I started this blog because I wanted to explore my style. Now I have more of an idea of what it is and will just continue to try and apply it every day.

Now, another reason I started is because I wanted to be part of the fashion blogging community and because I think fashion should be discussed. So let's get a discussion going: What inspires you? What keeps you in love with clothes? What makes you stray from sweatpants every day? Tell me.

I mean, why should I blog when there are teenagers out there who are better at it and have interesting things to say rather than inane things? Writing a story with her clothes? That's good.

If you're going to read any of her posts, I'd start with this one.

And for the record, here's me stylin' out in middle school. How is it possible that she and I could have such relatively similar haircuts and she looks chic and I look like this. Eh? Tell me.


(And that "Tell me," Russian spammers, is not an invitation for more of your shite.)

You can fool some people sometimes,

but you cyan't fool aaall the people aaaall the time!

highlights of my week:

1. Moe visited! And the highlight of this highlight was probably our pregaming Apples to Apples. That game. So dumb and yet so fun at the same time.

2. I went to see the school play and chatted during the intermission with an older man behind me who has as his goal to attend five plays a week. Holy shnikees, right? He strongly suggested that I see a play, the title of which escapes me, in which a man dies and then comes back to tell his wife how much he loves her. He also suggested that I think seriously about the impending danger of "that satellite" colliding with "something up there," thereby knocking out every computer in the country including cars. It would set our society back eighty years he guessed. According to his estimation, the cause of this doom is the terrible direction our country is taking what with the removal of religion from so many things.

3. So many of my students are now using textual proof to support their theses and are using correct MLA style when they do it. And they're doing it quite well.

4. Jess made red pesto ravioli for dinner last night.

check out this feedback!

This morning, in response to a post I put up on this day last year, I received this comment:

фильмы dvd фильмы сериалы диски blu-ray dvd5
[url=http://www.dvd5.com.ua]www.dvd5.com.ua[/url] или [url=http://www.dvd5.com.ua]http://www.dvd5.com.ua[/url]

последние новинки
Идеальный побег / A Perfect Getaway / 2009
Трансформеры: Месть падших / Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen / 2009
Джонни Д / Public Enemies / 2009
Монстри проти чужих / Монстры против пришельцев / Monsters vs Aliens / 2009
Стэн Хельсинг / Stan Helsing / 2009
О, счастливчик! / 2009
Нянька по вызову / The Rebound / 2009
Король Гийом / King Guillaume / 2009
Запрещенная реальность / 2009
Повелители теней / The Telling / 2009
Кража в музее / The Maiden Heist / 2009
Продавец / The Goods: Live Hard, Sell Hard / 2009
2012: Супернова / 2012: Supernova / 2009
Мой ангел-хранитель / My Sister s Keeper / 2009
Причина основания Китая / Jian guo da ye / 2009
Проклятые воды / Midnight Bayou / 2009
Ласковый май / 2009
Затащи меня в Ад / Drag Me to Hell / 2009
Чудаки / Lascars / 2009
Прошивка / Hardwired / 2009
Парк культуры и отдыха / Adventureland / 2009
Крик совы / The Cry of the Owl / 2009
Побег из ГУЛАГа / So weit die Fuesse tragen (As Far As My Feet Will Carry Me) / 2001
Дорогуша / Cheri / 2009
Крыша / 2009
Суррогаты / Surrogates / 2009
Гарри Поттер и Принц-полукровка / Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince / 2009
Поворот не туда 3 / Wrong Turn 3: Left for Dead [UNRATED] / 2009
Луна 2112 / Moon / 2009
Последний день будущего / Evilution / 2008
Опасные пассажиры поезда 123 / The Taking of Pelham 123
Предложение / The Proposal / 2009
Бросок кобры / G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra / 2009
Миссия Дарвина / G-Force / 2009
Каникулы строгого режима / 2009
Бабник / Spread / 2009
Интимные подробности холостяцкой жизни / Cruising Bar 2 / 2008
Невеста любой ценой / 2009
Дитя тьмы / Orphan / 2009
Девять / 9 / 2009
Представь себе / Imagine That / 2009
Звездный путь / Star Trek / 2009
Район №9 / District 9 / 2009

Huh.

What my walk to school looked like today:

I wish nights were longer.

Lately when I get up in the morning I feel really sad that the nighttime is over.

Gosh, sometimes I say the dumbest things on this blog. (Hi, Mom!)

But seriously, I want to go back to sleep. It's not that I want the weekend to come because sleep isn't as satisfying on the weekend when I can sleep until whenever I want.

here's something cool

Here's one thing I love about hip hop: the use of "Aww" or, "Unhhh" as a way of pausing to let the beat catch up or think of something to say, or... I don't know... lots of things.

For example, in "D.O.A." (see below), Jay Z uses it twenty-four times. I counted. I think it really contributes something awesome to the song, and I'm not being facetious.



Here's another good example:

hott

Why yes, that is a zebra-print snuggie.

eeyow

I hate that feeling where I'm trying to think of something and/or anything to say, and five or ten really dumb ideas click through my brain, get evaluated and quickly rejected, and I'm thinking, "Shiiiit... we should be talking right now. This is awkward. Fuck fuck fuck." And I really hate it even more when, in a situation like this, someone else says, "Well, this is awkward," because that's one of the dumb things to say that clicks through and should be rejected because it doesn't lessen the pressure on the other person (or the rest of the group) to be socially brilliant, or even just socially adept. It just outs them as being awkward, and I don't think that's advisable in terms of creating positive vibes. You know?

good one

The ultimate weakness of violence is that it is a descending spiral, begetting the very thing it seeks to destroy. Instead of diminishing evil, it multiplies it. Through violence you may murder the liar, but you cannot murder the lie, nor establish the truth. Through violence you murder the hater, but you do not murder hate. In fact, violence merely increases hate.... Returning violence for violence multiples violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr, 1967

It's a stroganoff party and EVERYONE'S invited!

It's a stroganoff party and EVERYONE'S invited!
STROGANOFF!
We're
all
gonna
eat
beef STROGANOFF!

riddle me this

What's up with all the gnats in Urbana? I need windshield wipers on my glasses.

oh yes

Lucky for me, students at my school go down to the auditorium to take their yearbook photos during their English classes once a year. Today was that day, and oh man is it awesome to watch people take their yearbook photos. Big, toothy, ridiculous grins. Weird, toothless, stretched-lip smiles that pose as real smiles but are just weird facial expressions. Kids who "don't smile for pictures." All of this stuff is great. And that's before you even consider the photographer's directions to "turn your head just a little that way," or "shoulders back."

You might be thinking that this doesn't sound funny, and if so, you might also be forgetting how cool the average fifteen-year-old is trying to look most of the time. And you might be the kind of person who, admirably, doesn't take just a little bit of pleasure in watching awkward but harmless self-consciousness.

I assure you; it's funny.

I even had one student who intentionally tried all these "model" poses (eg. fist under the chin, arms crossed and looking over one shoulder, lips pursed into a kissy face, etc.) while the increasingly frustrated photographer humorlessly repeated, "You can't do that... can't do that either... can't do that either..."


Every time I watch this, I laugh out loud at Bill's face at the end.

Can I just say

that I am so so so so so so so so so glad that I became a teacher. Really, it's so fun.

"I wish I knew."

Why is public transportation so intriguing?

Jealous. So jealous.

one of my favorite scenes ever

In a TV show, a movie, a book, in life, wherever, like, seriously, ever.

more socialist cult-recruiting dangerous people and penguins... WOOT!

Even Nascar is drinking the cyanide-laced red Kool-Aid!


---

Four posts in one day. Yeah.

just a guess

Starting sometime this past summer, I started noticing "ROTC DISCRIMINATES AGAINST GAY STUDENTS" chalked around the quad intermittently. And today I saw this:


Looks like someone blotted out the G, Y, and S so that it looks like it says "ROTC DISCRIMINATES AGAINST A STUDENT."

I really am not familiar with what's going on behind all this, but if I had to guess, I'd say that The Second Chalker (or rather, The Blotter), is trying to tell the story that one gay person was denied admission to the ROTC program and is now being a whiner about it. Again, just a guess, based on what I've seen and heard with somewhat similar stuff.

How wack. To assert that members of the LGBT community are not discriminated against in military (and many other) contexts -- yeah right. When Cornel West was here he said something about how scoffing at political correctness only trivializes the sufferings of other people. I'd say same goes for denying the existence of systemic inequity.

Let's be real: Senator Russell is a hater.

Now, the way I understand Obama's upcoming speech to American students is that it will be a talk "on the importance of [students] taking responsibility for their education, challenging them to set goals and do everything they can to succeed," as is indicated on whitehouse.gov.

And I don't claim to be unbiased. On the contrary, I'm crazy about President Obama. I'm pretty sure I've made that clear.

That said, I think I'm being fair and rational when I say that Oklahoma's Senator Steve Russell's incendiary comments about the speech as an attempt at the Obamian indoctrination of American school children are irresponsibly hyperbolic. I don't mean that I don't I hear what he's saying; I see how a speech to children during school hours could be interpreted in that way. I really do.

But it's spoken like someone who has no idea how education works. Students' brains are not empty vessels into which grown-ups ideas are poured. In my experience, for many students, and especially students of color, Obama's political success is inspiring. Many of my students even think he is cool, if their wearing of his face on their t-shirts and shoes is any indication of such a thing. Many, but not all. And for those who don't consider him an inspiring leader or a cool guy, I'd bet that his speech Tuesday morning will give them an opportunity to practice their critical analysis skills. Afterwards, they can practice argumentation with their Obama-worshiping peers. And if that happens, that's when the learning -- for both the "believers" and "non-believers" -- will take place, not while they're listening to Obama's lecture. They've heard that "School is Cool" thing a million times. Sure, they might find it interesting to be spoken to and not about by our nation's leader, but I assure you: students are not passive receivers of knowledge. It just doesn't work that way.

Russell complained that the planned speech, "gives the appearance of creating a cult of personality." Okay, so he gets some face-time on the TV sets in the classroom as he tries to send positive and encouraging messages to our kids. Again, I really do see what he's getting at. But, again. Come on now. Obama as a concept has been a major force in pop culture for a while now. For various reasons, he has been an impressive draw for young people. Part of it, for sure is the way he's been marketed. Absolutely, he's trendy; I've already admitted my kids think he's cool. But it's fairly insulting to my own intelligence as well as insulting my students' intelligence to suggest that all of us youngens have been hoodwinked by him and his people. Y'know, it's possible that we might genuinely agree that all people who are sick deserve to be able to go to the doctor and receive quality treatment.

And finally, his claim that the speech is "is akin to something you would see in North Korea or under Saddam Hussein's Iraq" is just plain-old outrageously off. He going to speak about the importance reducing the drop-out rate. Last time I checked, we didn't invade Iraq because too many students were staying in school.

making it up to Kasey

Here are five reasons why if Kasey had been here last Sunday, my morning would have been more awesome:


1. We could have had some good jokes about my White Liberal purchases from the Farmer's Market that I was eating for brunch.
2. We could have orchestrated a grand pie-ing of Jessica in the face even though the spur of the moment quick squirt with whipped cream was funny.
3. We could have read books.
4. We could have walked to the mall which we haven't done in a long time and should do soon before it gets too cold.
5. We could have found a really good Board-Shorts-Tacos recipe for Sunday night dinner instead of the boring recipe that I used.

mmhm

"Maaaan, we doin too much in here."

I like the sounds of that. I think we're doing just enough.

Could I BE having a better Sunday morning?

1. Ani DiFranco Pandora station (forgot how much I love her)
2. productivity on grad school application and district funding application
3. fresh pot of coffee since I cleaned the mold out of the machine yesterday afternoon
4. windows open and air cool enough to be able to wear a sweatshirt and pants
5. good lesson plans written for the week
6. grocery shopping done
7. up early enough to do all of this and still be able to get over to church for the first time in a long time
8. little brother coming to visit esta noche
9. Alex and Jessica coming back today, too

The answer is definitively no. This morning could not be any better.
Man, I used to hate Sundays in college.

Well!

Now that's a good word.

my response to

you, Cassie:

Here's Alex' team playing soccer

whilst the apocalypse looms.

shockingly shameless

Check out two of the most popular articles on the Time website right now:

Ex-Wives and Others Eagerly Await UBS Tax-Cheater List
Michelle Obama and the Shorts Heard Round the World

Sorry for being so unladylike (...NOT), but what the FUCK.

Maybe if the one about offshore bank accounts had any sort of statistic -- gosh, even some sort of unconvincing "fact" even -- to back up their presumption that the holders of such are men, then maybe that sort of shit wouldn't be so outrageously fucking sexist, but even then, probably no. I find that woman as sort of bitter, ruthless, gold-digger bullshit incredibly offensive. In fact, I actually feel kind of personally insulted by this suggestion. And y'know what, the article is pretty heteronormative, too, huh?

Maybe it's because I read this article after reading about how Michelle Obama "just didn't look particularly good in shorts. Her arms are much admired. her legs are just, you know, legs." I've posted before about how infuriating it is to me the way the media so often belittles Mrs. Obama, but this shit is... GOSH.

I mean, the way this article ends sounds like it was written in the 1950s. Srsly.

For women, Michelle's shorts were long on significance. They give accomplished, glamorous people license to do what the power brokers at Vogue do, and that is to wear whatever the hell they like sometimes. So, ladies, get out your least flattering outfits — your terry shorts, your oversize T-shirt, those extra comfortable arch-supporting shoes — and wear them with pride. All the fashionable women are doing it.

Oh, really? I can? *bats eyelids* Thanks! *punches Time Magazine in the face.*

on being a townie

I don't like being a townie. It's taken a lot of the anonymity out of living in this place.

When I used to walk on the quad as a student, I would marvel at just how many classmates I had. I would think about the fact that I would probably never see some of the faces that I was passing again even though myself and the strangers around me were all so familiar with the same campus landscapes.

Now, though, it's easier for me to see how everyone is connected. I run into a student and/or a parent nearly every single time I go to the grocery store, for example, but it's not just people from work. I mean this in the least I'm-a-big-deal way possible, but it just seems like I've started to know a lot of people around here and they all know each other, too, for various reasons.

I can definitely see how this could be construed as a good thing. Sometimes, I do like it. Like the other day, I ran into the parents of one of my students while we were all volunteering at a food pantry that we were invited to by a good friend of mine. That was kinda cool, real community-like, y'know.

That said, I'm just not a smalltown person, and this place doesn't even qualify as a small town. It's not really to do with those kind of stereotypical everybody-knows-everybody's business issues -- and Lord knows it's not because any majority of people are stereotypically conservative over here. I'd just really much rather feel my insignificance in obvious ways every day, the way I feel while riding public transportation in a city, for example.

I almost can't believe I'm saying that; what, I want to teach in a big ol' impersonal school district where I don't have any valued input into the way things work? to live in a place where any kind of positive contribution I make to my community could only be so relatively tiny as to almost be pointless? where it's maybe easier for people to dehumanize one another since there's less of a chance that they'll have to interact with one another meaningfully?

It doesn't make sense when I really think about it, but really, sometime relatively soon I'm going to make a move towards someplace where I can feel a little less known. It'll be good for my level of modesty.

(ha. Ask anyone in Champaign-Urbana. My name rings out here. Right...)

Is my new blog title photo hipster-ish?

Cassie, that question is directed at you. I'm genuinely unsure of whether or not I am a hipster, but I don't think I am. That being said, the article you posted noted that part of being a hipster is denying that you are a hipster, so now I don't know what to think.

brain is on overload

I'm pretty excited for school to start. I've been working in my classroom a lot -- setting up, selecting materials, making copies, writing plans, trying to be preemptive about dealing with the annoying parts of teaching like constantly having to catch up kids who have been out the day before. More pleasant has been skimming back over the stuff I've read this summer in preparation for trying something new with writing instruction, and getting re-energized with all of the good ideas I came across and now get to try out with Real Live Teenagers.

So far I've had the seemingly compulsory:
"How's your summer been?"
"Pretty good! How's yours?"
"Oh, great. Too short of course. Ha. Ha. Ha."
conversation quite a few times this week. So boring. I wonder if every workplace is as riddled with this conversation as mine is. During the school year, it happens every Monday, and has a hyper-presence after any 3- or 4-day weekend or fall or spring break. I've also had some genuinely-happy-to-see-you conversations with colleagues I know a little better and really like.

I want to start a The Wire watching group that gets together twice a month or something and watches a couple episodes and then discusses over beers or coffee or pizza or caramels. I suppose Kasey, Jessica, and I could do this but (1) Kasey and I pretty much agree on everything besides the relative importance of Americorps, and (2) Jessica would think it was boring. Maybe there's one on campus.

I'm actually looking forward to cashiering for Dump and Run this weekend. (And anybody in town -- if anyone is still reading this -- should come and spend cash money. Lots of cool stuff this year.) Doing so reminds me of the Saturdays and weeknights I used to spend working with my Dad in the concession stand at St. Laurence High School football and basketball games. All the hotdogs with delicious just-add-water onions I could eat.

Old movies, why must you hate so?

Last night I watched An Affair to Remember on TV. I'd been meaning to watch it for a while. I generally like old movies like that, even when I don't like them, since the dialogue sounds so funny. Not funny haha, just funny odd. I think it's cool to see how different they are from movies now.

It goes like this: Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr meet on an ocean liner headed back to New York from a nondescript European location. Grant is a world-famous lady-killer on his way home to marry a filthy rich heiress and thus secure his lavish lifestyle; Kerr is the poor-but-beautiful-nightclub-singer-turned-housewife-in-training of some wealthy New York businessman. Aboard, they fall in love, much to the gossipy amusement of their fellow passengers and the ship's photographer who acts a bit like a modern-day paparazzi. (Actually, they really get into one another when the ship is docked for a few hours near his grandmother's home and they go and visit her. What I want to know is where the hell they are supposed to be docked. They get there after at least one, maybe two nights aboard the ship. It's tropical, and you sort of get the sense that her late husband was some sort of colonial official. But what tropical destinations lie two-days' journey away from Europe on the way to New York City? It is a movie, I realize.) Anyway, they decide that they want to be together forever, so they vow to meet one another at the top of the Empire State Building in six months, giving them enough time to break it off with their current beaus and enough time to do some hard work and save some money on their own. When the evening of the meeting finally arrives, he's *SPOILER ALERT* there waiting, but she gets hit by a car as she's rushing up to meet him. He's humiliated; she's in the hospital, unable to walk again; they're both heartbroken. The rest of the movie sorts out whether or not they'll end up together.

That's probably when I should have turned the movie off.

See, now she has to become a teacher (Oh! The horror! What a tragedy!), so she teaches music at a Catholic elementary school. There's an unnecessarily long scene in which she's directing the choir, and all of the lovely little children are singing about resisting temptation, blah, blah, blah, and there are lots of little solos built into the oh-so-cute song so that the camera can close-in on their adorable little up-turned faces. Then, for the first time in the scene that's been going about three minutes, the camera pans over two Black children's faces just in time for them to part through the choir from the back row to the front to do some silly minstrel-like dance and sing-song verse that's totally separate from the song's melody. (Y'know, it's not unlike McCauley Culkin's little "rap" in the middle of MJ's "Black or White" video, now that I think about it.)

The kids are back a few scenes later to visit their beloved teach while she rests at home (or maybe it's in a hospital?). This time, the Black boy gets to open the scene for he children by asking, "Is she going to be okay, Doc?" only to be quickly corrected by the children's accompanying priest, "Call him, Doctor!" How dare that boy not codeswitch!

I googled around a little bit looking for commentary on these ridiculous, racist, and highly removable scenes, but couldn't really find much. There were several reviewers who suggested that the scenes with the children were unnecessary inasmuch as they distract from the shmoopie love story.

And as if that shit weren't enough to make this movie a "not" for me, much of the justification for the lovers' agonizing separation after their fateful missed connection is that of course she can't tell him that she's disabled! How terrible and disgusting and unlovable! Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

a fitting finale, I guess

this penis building in Ypsilante, MI:

the midwest leg

In Ann Arbor, MI, they have the first Borders ever:
The door is newly purpled at Cassie's house in Ann Arbor:

Here's the restaurant in Cleveland where we ate breakfast lunch and where Harvey Pekar eats. I might have seen him, but I don't know what he looks like:

unsafe driving

between Elkton, MD and Cleveland, OH

The thing about driving on the express way is that you have to have, I think, an inordinate amount of trust in the people driving in front of and behind you. I don't have that kind of trust. I get really nervous when anyone gets close to me at all when I'm driving because how the hell do I know that they are not going to slam on their breaks or ram into the back of the car I'm driving. Maybe it won't even be accidental; maybe it will be some kind of intentional but random terrible car-crashing. This is what I'm thinking about when I'm driving for hours and hours these days. I'm thinking about how remarkable it is that all of the people driving around me are kind enough and talented enough not to crash into Cassie's car even though they could at any second.

My Dad taught us that our family motto is, "Trust but verify," which is probably why I'm thinking this.

the city of brotherly love

Cassie, looking so tiny:

a delicious cheesesteak:

Apparently, there are hundreds of murals in Philadelphia, but we only saw a few. This one's dedicated to the work of W.E.B. DuBois in Philly:

In the Dumpster Divers' Art Gallery on South Street. This piece is called screwing Yellow Hill. There's a handwritten description of the piece by the author right there in which he explains that everything here is litter he picked up on Yellow Hill and lamenting the carelessness of litterers in Yellow Hill:

lots of blue things in the Dumpster Divers Gallery:

still more Dumpster Diven stuff:

South Street, Philly. Home to really freaking sweet thrift stores:

Arriving into Philadelphia, PA. I like this city:

Southward, ho!

Cassie on Pleasant Beach in I think Connecticut:

At the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston, they have an exhibit of the work of Shepard Fairey, the guy who did that Obama poster, and TONS of other cool stuff. But I couldn't take photos in the gallery so I took a photo of this in the lobby:

They also have this really sweet computer lab that's angles downward like an auditorium but with no stage, just a window that shows you that you're sitting out over the harbor:

And here's Cass and I standing in the lobby:

can'tstopwon'tstop

According to Josh, "the most important landmark in Boston" is this Citgo sign:
artist, Cassie Jo Cleary:

The belltower in which Paul Revere signaled one if by land and two if by sea:

Looking out the window of the oldest bar in America:

Look at all these 21st Century folk eschewing the all those old fashioned reference books in favor of the World Wide Web (even though using those books would require using that cool ladder!):

inside the Boston Public Library:

same thing:

goto

I was going to write about the "show" we saw in NYC, but then Cassie did. Articulately and eloquently. So I don't feel the need to anymore.

I've also been planning on writing some long, boring post about the purpose of travel. It occurred to me when we were wandering around in the Guggenheim that we spend a lot of time and money going places to use our eyes on new, cool stuff. And not just our eyes, I know. We also use our noses, ears, fingers, and tongues on new, cool stuff. And pretty much that's why we travel? I don't think so. But I really don't feel like writing any further since I'm already painfully aware of how dumb I'm making myself out to be right now.

Also, we're probably not going to Delaware now, so I won't have a chance to post this video clip and write, "Hi. I'm in Delaware." unless I do so now.

explanation

In a paper on Josh's coffee table I found this sentence:

In reality, we're only as free as our genes are pliable in the slosh of our developmental milieus.

AAAAAhahahahahahahaha.

more fone fotos

In backwards order of taking.

Harvard flags that use textspeak (the last of which is incomprehensible to me):
(UPDATE: Cassie says that we do know what it means. That it means "May the force be with you," but I'm not convinced because no one says that about going to class. Josh suggested that it could mean "May the fish be wet underwater," which is also true. I still don't know what it means.)

haha. "FUCK!" in Harvard Square:

Their campus is okay but our quad's WAY better:

Cassie's favorite:

"really bad Portuguese music" according to our hosts:

lots of lights and flags for the Portuguese festival, The Feast of the Blessed Sacrament in New Bedford, Massachusetts:

Apparently, this town is really Portuguese because when the New England whalers would go looking for help for their whaling missions, the currents of the Atlantic take boats from New Bedford, MA straight to the islands off of Portugal and then right back to New Bedford. Huh.:

the mills and small beach in New Bedford:

more to come on this fellow later (preview: OMG.)

the theater where we saw the worst piece of theater ever theatered:

Spanish Harlem:

graffiti wall of fame at 106th and Park:

Off camera this looks more like "ASS TRANSPORTATION." I had to take a picture because of the connection I felt with my favorite part of Sister Act II, when Sister Mary Clarence is standing in front of the door to where she'll be teaching and it says "MUSIC ASSROOM."

a community garden in East Harlem:

part of my favorite exhibit at the Studio Museum Harlem, a collection of photography by area high school students:

cross-stitch in the Studio Museum Harlem!:

the Apollo:

the library at Colombia's main campus, which I saw on my way to the Teachers College bookstore: