Crisis # 1:



The white sheet is not long enough for a traditional toga praetexta (who knew my four years of Latin would come in this handy?). It has to be about 3 times as long as the body. Mine is about 1.5 times. So, Cathleen, my savior, the house mom, is going to stop by the house on her way down to Night Pro (a Targum thing) to help me cut my sheet in half and sew it back together... In the meantime, I will gliterate.

Lauren will be back from class soon (why recitations weren't cancelled on such a holy day I'll never understad).



Crown? Check: Green leaf crown covered with glitter spray.

Sandals? Check: Tan, with matching glitter spray.

Henna tatoos? Check: red, on hand, wrist and ankle.

Toga? Check: white sheet from Walmart.

Jewelry? Check: copper bracelet, celtic necklace.

Accessories? Check: long glittery chain of green and white flowers.

Hair? Check: gold highlighted twists with glitter spray.



Pictures coming soon, I'm sure. I'm off to shave. Roman gods should have smooth, glittery faces ala Mid Summer Night's Dream.



Have a kick-ass halloween everyone.

I was sitting in my Spanish class, listening to my insane professor spout out the intricacies of the 5th tractado of "Lazarillo de Tormes" and gazing out the door.



My eyes moved from left to right across the room, but then they darted back toward the door.



Outside was a big guy wearing a ...



... Jason mask, with wild hair and dirty clothes. And he was staring at me and pointing. For ten seconds. Then he turned and ran down the hall.



It was so ... hysterical. There I was, just sitting in class, when I saw an icon of American horror movies point to me like it was my turn to die. I looked at the girl sitting next to me and we both started laughing like hyenas ... and my clueless professor just smiled, assuming we were laughing at his clever antics.

It's already time to start thinking about classes for next semester. This is insanity.

After throwing my Spanish paper into the abyss of procrastination Lauren Duffy and TJ DeGroat hit the mall and were inspired by the spirit of Halloween.



Venus and Bacchus, goddess of love and god of wine, wife and husband.



We have tons of jewelry, Roman-esque sandals, body glitter and hair mascara and the all-important toga material.



Watch out.

You know what's fun?



Getting an invitation to join the Golden Key National Honor Society ...



... five days after the deadline to respond. Whatever, I'm still putting it on my resume.

All of these celebrities and people with influence are saying, "Please vote, everyone. I don't care who you vote for, but vote, make your voice heard."



Well, I do care who you vote for. Vote for Al Gore. Vote for someone with experience who can actually take charge of this country without drilling it into the ground.



Do not vote for Dubya. I will probably throw myself head -first into a wall if he wins. I am not exagerating. I will be distraught. The thought of that little illiterate boy making Supreme Court appointments that will decide the quality of my life makes me sick to my stomach. And Nader? He's creepy. He's become the college kids' candidate, but he's really just a thorn in Gore's side. He. Has. Got. To. Go.



Read about their stances on the issues. Read the candidates web sites. Do what I do. I am a smart boy. You will thank me in eight years.

I've been re-reading "Franny and Zooey," by J.D. Salinger because, after reading it two summer ago, I was pretty unmoved. A few people in my family said they actually like the book more than ... gasp ... "Catcher in the Rye," which I hadn't read at that point, either.



Anyway, shocked that I'd almost made it through teen years without touching a Salinger book, I grabbed the book from my grandmother's house. I think I rushed through it, sticking to my usual bad habit of focusing more on the short snippets of dialogue than on the longer detailed passages. I read "Catcher" a few weeks later and absolutely adored it, but didn't give "Franny and Zooey" a second chance until this week.



I completely love this book, though. Partially because it plays on my insecurities, which is why I think most of are drawn to books and characters. We either identify with them or want to be them, but I think most of us want to be them, are attracted to parts of them we think we could never be or could never get away with. Not only am I in awe of the two title characters for their intense capability to think and challenge, but I'm in total awe of Salinger for being able to create such a detailed story in wsuch a relatively short novel. (How absoluteley American and college of me to fawn all over J.D. Salinger) My puerile dream to have written a book before 20 is completely laughable - the amount of work thought that goes into just a description of a very secondary character is mind-boggling.



I'm so affected by books - it's a familial attribute. I fall into these landscapes and family lives and take on qualities of the characters, sometime without realizing it.



And incidentally, if you really want to know, I adore the font on the cover of the edition I have (Bantam from 1964).



...God, I just want people to quote me like I quote authors:



"But don't go screaming about egos in general. In my opinion, if you really want to know, half the nastiness in the world is stirred up by people who aren't using their true egos."

How's this for crazy college life?



Cathleen has a small dinner party where she, in all her domesticated glory, cooks garlic bread, pasta, sauce with meatballs and sausage and chocolate chip cookie bars. The six guests sit around the living room throwing around titles of obscure 80s movies they're sure someone else will remember (and everyone did, except for one movie I remember with Kathy Ireland when she still had a squeaky voice. It had monsters and roller skating and underground tunnels to L.A. - that's all I remember).



This morning I wake up, delighted at the saved time, and Cathleen makes a now-customary Sunday breakfast for me. We eat our fench toast while reading the Sunday paper.



Kids these days. Insanity, eh?

There is nothing weirder than picking up your cup, expecting the content to be water, but tasting apple juice.

After reading Tim's comment about the site I realized something: the design has shades of the Britney video for "Sometimes." Do you see it? Totally inadvertant.

It is so like me to get all affected by a schmaltzy movie like "Remember The Titans." But sure enough, during the hospital scene and when the mother entered the stadium during the final game my eyes were kind of misty.



I'm a putz.

I'm writing a follow-up story about Duke University being forced to pay $2 million in punitive damages to a female place kicker who was cut from their football team. She alleged it was because of her gender and a jury agreed.



In a press statement an attorney for Duke said, "There was no legally sufficient evidentiary basis for a reasonable jury to find for the plaintiff on her Title IX claim or to find that punitive damages were warranted.”



Is that English? I bet he had his "people" thumbing through the thesaurus for hours trying to find the most convoluted way to say "there was no proof."

There's nothing like beastiality in the morning.



"Students at Hawkeye Community College's farm at 5503 Hammond Ave. discovered 46-year-old Robert Allen Broderson hiding naked in a hay loft shortly before 8 a.m., according to Waterloo police. An ewe -- a female sheep -- was tied up in the corner."

Hi. Allow me to re-introduce myself.



I'm T.J. and I'm listening to Mandy Moore sing "I Wanna Be With You" on the radio. It's a live version. She has a great voice. Don't judge me.



I'm a 20 (and a half)-year-old college junior at Rutgers in New Brunswick, N.J. I used to live in the offices of the Daily Targum, the daily student paper at this fine university. Then I was offered partial tuition payment, a 401k plan, stock options and profit sharing if I stayed at my internship. Being quasi-intelligent, I ditched the paper and sold my soul to corporate America. So, I'm now a full-time student and a reporter for an online news site. I also am in the process of co-founding a social justice organization called P.E.A.C.E. at Rutgers. Impressed? You shouldn't be. I'm also incredibly unmotivated with regard to school and lazy in general. A slacker, a procrastinator. But I embrace it.



I've been busy having a life for the past month. But now I want to share it with you. Start by reading the latest journal entry.



My Web site is not that cute right now, but I needed a change and was sick of waiting, so I put up what I had. Things will most likely be tweaked throughout the next few weeks. Feel free to email me with suggestions.



[Also, I do not think it's cool to delete ridiculously false posts made by fools like Ben Jenkins, but I do plan on posting many things throughout the next few days to push that sucker down down down.]

Man oh man! Living and working in San Francisco is a big trip. So far I've been doing a lot of social activities, mostly hanging out at gay bars and meeting people. I've met two really nice guys named Nate and Soho. I SWEAR that's his name. Anyway, Nate and Soho actually live together. They're sort of dating but not exactly. If you get my drift. They just sort of live together and have occasional guests. It's a fun place to be!



Anyway, so I'm over at their place a lot doing my thing and also hanging out at my place where we just had a hot tub installed. Aaawee yaaah baby.



The Folsom Street Fair was a few weeks ago. That was HOT. So many hot guys wearing little to nothing -- or tight leather chaps and jock strap things. Man, heaven, hello! Oh, Soho is here! Gotta go.