I saw one Marine in SFO, but about 7 in Newark just while I was walking from the gate to the main waiting area. Conversely, Newark was a ghost town while SFO was freaking jam packed with people.



So, I'm home...and it's weird, but just weird enough...ya dig?



(Hi, Fogel)

I love, love, love Michele Kwan, who looks particularly fetching in this photo. And despite her tumultuous year, including firing her long-time coach and finishing second to a disgustingly sloppy Slutskaya at last weekend's Grand Prix Final, Michele is the world's best skater (with four world titles to prove it) and will win the Olympics in February.

Sayonara, Dreamhost. This site is now hosted by the House of Pleasure. Bout time, eh?



And in other news, I'm heading back to NJ for Christmas on Wednesday. Oddly enough, that means updates will probably be more consistent.

Man…San Francisco’s public transportation system, MUNI, is really easy to master and convenient, but boy, in terms of people, it’s usually a total freak show.



Today was my weirdest MUNI day ever – There were the usual scary homeless, but that was nothing compared to the 35-40 sixth graders who burst onto the bus at the 9thy and Irving stop. All of these out-of-towners and their chaperones were crammed onto the N-Judah, shrieking every time we went down a hill and whenever someone, inevitably, farted.



After I climbed over 7,000 people to get off at Church St., I got on the 22, where instead of filling in the open spaces, a group of five obnoxious woman decided to thoroughly invade my space. I was sandwiched between two of them when an ancient, ancient man came up to me and said, “You know what the difference is between a dog and a fox? …. Four or five drinks!”



Uh…what?

Dear DSL Gods,



Why do you forsake me? After three months in an apartment that promised DSL but failed to deliver, I was ecstatic to enter a new, lovely home in Potrero Hill, where I imagined myself zooming along the Information Superhighway at lightening-fast speeds. Tales of Hospital-related wonder wiring rang in my head as I labored to move my futon frame and bookshelf into my new, beautiful room. But my heart sank when I heard one of my roommates, Ben #2, utter the three cruelest words: The DSL's down. As if that weren't enough, the new modem you sent us, dear Gods, seems to be lifeless. Now, what do I have to do to prove to you that I'm worthy of your tech love? For until then, until that wonderous day when you bless me with a digital subscriber line, I will not be able to share stories of my trek through the snowy mountains of California and Oregon, the crack-related fire in Candice's new apartment building in the Haight or my impending visit to the New York area. These are things the people need to know.



Please lords, answer my prayer.



Yours eternally,



T.J. DeGroat, Esq.

Ben had a dream this morning about an American Airlines plane crashing in San Francisco. He woke up and was freaked out and restless. I wonder what *that's* all about...

The Many Faces of Michael Jackson - truly alarming.

(ahem.... "Halloween pictures by Ben")

I'll probably still in MIA for a bit, but take a look at some photos from my first Halloween in San Francisco. There's even a little movie!

Yes, this is interesting. Be.fierce.org

Guess what.



I'm not solely obsessed with Britney Spears, the rest of the bubble gum pop world, cheesy television shows, the mall, trendy clothing stores and national chains.



I put a small part of myself out here for you to take or leave. If you enjoy my thoughts, be them silly or more profound, that's wonderful, but if you visit this site, this tiny piece of my psyche, and find yourself annoyed or disappointed somehow that I'm not the person you think I should be, then take a hike.



I don't need people to read these statements if they're going to throw them back at me or others with deragatory comments or criticism. I don't understand how people could invest so much time in visiting a fucking website they don't even like. Get over it.

FedEx is the bomb, yo (note use of the rather than da).



My pretty new computer, with 900 MHz (anything more would be a power guzzler), dvd-cdrw, 19" monitor and free printer left Dell at 6:43 p.m. yesterday and arrived at my house at noon today. Woo ha.



Now, as long as my roommate had the dsl fixed, I can start updating more regularly.

A lot of things have shocked me during the past few days:



1. I've neglected this site for so long.

2. Bush's address last night impressed me and left me feeling positive - and he didn't even flub a multisyllabic word.

3. Despite the life-altering attack, my friends and I still find ways to be extremeley petty and lack perspective.

4. Last night was only the second time I'd been to the beach since I moved to my house on the 7th.

5. People keep talking about returning to normal. Look what normal brought us.

6. I care very little about the blogging community.



Well, maybe that last one's not so shocking. There are a lot of people who are doing wonderful jobs gathering important news and commentary, but I just can't be one of them. Whenever something like this happens I find myself on the fence, part of me wanting to immerse myself in information and another part wanting to avoid getting sucked in and paranoid. An "expert" on terrorism who was on NPR the other day mentioned how people in Lebanon largely fell into two categories: survivor and thriver. The former is all about ingesting so much information and harping on the negatives until you become constantly paranoid and live your life ruled by fear. Thrivers take in necessary information, but are rational enough to live life as close to normal as possible. We need to thrive.

I've been away from the Internet for a few days and I'm glad. I can barely bring myself to check other blogs or Web sites based in the NYC area. I have nothing thoughtful or eloquent to add to the constant analysis, commentary and news being overconsumed by TV viewers. All I know is that my entire family and most of my friends live less than 25 miles away from Manhattan and this scares me more than people know. I have pictures somewhere on this Web site of the skyline I stared at so many times, the city I've always considered my home. Everyone keeps saying that New York and this country will never be the same and they're right. It's not even about security on airplanes (And, please, would someone in the media put some pressure on the airports for dropping the ball in a big way?), it's about walking down the street without looking over our collective shoulder.



Tales of my trips to the Grand Canyon and LA seem so trivial right now. If anything, this incident (tragedy has been used to death, despite it's accuracy) could force us to concentrate less on the petty bullshit that clogs our days.

Date: Mon, 03 Sep 2001 17:11:12 -0700

From: Tracy DeGroat <>

To: Ben <>

Subject: Re: oh



Ben, could you post this on my blog. Thanks.



Love you.





Notes from the Palm.



Crazy Places:

Versailles, OH

Brazil, IN

Paris, IL

Pocahontas, IL

Mexico, MO



Drinking in Ohio w/ Andrea and Paul. Spent way too much fucking money.



In PA, saw a retarded a siqn pointing out the highest elevation on route 80 east of the Mississippi.



Old Spaghetti Factory - St. Louis (and Oakland)



Nebraska and a lot of this part of the west is whiter than I thought. One Mexican dude. But lots of the gay in the cute Haymarket area.



75 mph in NE - because its barren.



Nebraska is so my favorite midwestern state now. The people are so cute. But once you get past Lincoln all of the towns seem to be built around the interstate. Fast food nation, yo.



There are so many insect carcasses on the windshield, mirrors and front of the car, it's unbelievable. Red splotches, too. Who knew insects had real red blood?



Preserving open space is such a hot-button issue in N.J., but it's amazing how open the West is.



It's definitely better visiting a place if you have family or friends.



Colorado - scary latin with an insane mullet. Denver is a pretty big city, but it is surrounded by so much open space. Colorado is so cool because the topography is so varied. We saw corn and wheat fields, huge mountains, the red rocks, the New Mexico-like rocks in the Garden of the Gods and even lush forrest.



My uncle lives in a gorgeous open house on a hill overlooking the little main street in Morrison. You can see the Red Rocks from his deck - gorgeous. We hiked there this morning and it was overwhelming.



One guy at my Uncle's bbq had the tightest jeans I've ever seen. You could see everything. Seriously looked like a roll of quarters.



OMG - first traffic in five days here in desolate New Mexico. A truck towing a Uhaul-type trailor bit the big one - personal belonginqs all over the road.

So, I'm outta here in about an hour. Candice is picking me up in her band new car (courtesy of the parents, who just bought it for her as a surprise) and we're gonna drive all the way through Pennsylvania (Hell!) on our way to Northwest Ohio. We're gonna hang out with Andrea tonight and ride on down to St. Louis tomorrow. Then it's off to Nebraska, if you can believe it, before visiting my Aunt and Uncle outside of Denver. From there, we go to the New Mexico/Arizona border for the night and drive past the big old canyon to Los Angeles.



I am: happy, excited, nervous, anxious, sad.



Peace out, New Jersey.

Wow. I cannot believe it. Another singer dead because of a plane crash. This time it's 22-year-old Aaliyah. I've never been a huge fan, but I know her music pretty well and I just saw that MTV show "Diary" featuring her. Apparently, she was in the Bahamaqs filimg a music video. It's going to be extremeley cathartic and overwhelming to see that video get maximum airplay, which I'm sure it will, on MTV. 22 years old!

Have you ever burned your finger? I mean, really burned it. Like, with an iron, maybe? You know, maybe by mistakingly grabbing the tip of an iron with your finger? The kind of burn that cause an inch-long blister to form the next day?



Well, take it from me, it sucks.



The only remedy is going into NYC with friends for an enchanted evening of drinky drinks.

1. There's a really cathartic journal entry from yesterday.



2. Rolling Stone has the Britney Spears cover story online. I really love that they're putting audio clips of their interviews on the site - very voyeuristic.



3. I'm bouncing back east tomorrow and beginning the cross-country trip in about a week, so updates will be sporadic...unless I can figure out how to update via my Palm, in which case they will probably be very frequent. What else is there to do while driving through Route 80 in Pennsylvania?

I really like Michelle Branch, whose pop-rock song, "Anywhere But Here," has been in heavy roation on radio and MTV lately. She's got a great female rocker voice - sweet and pure but able to belt, sort of like the lead singer from Letters 2 Cleo. There are a couple of songs and videos on her site. Check them out.

You will have such an amazing time. As tough as the first year can be and as hard as it seems to leave home and friends, you will be astounded at how quickly and how deeply you fall into new friendships. Spending one semester living on the same floor as someone creates stronger bonds than spending four years in high school with a friend - it's incredible.

I caught the last few minutes of The Weakest Link. The last question, which cost one guy the money, was "The American tricentennial is *projected* for which year?"



His answer? 1897.



No wonder the prize the team earned was a lowly $27,000.

Monica Seles (6) def. Serena Williams (4), 6-2, 3-6, 7-6 (7-2)



Yay!



"Monica Seles fought off six match points to beat Serena Williams 6-2, 3-6, 7-6 (2) in the estyle.com Classic quarterfinals Friday. Williams, the two-time defending champion ranked eighth in the world, saw her 12-match tournament winning streak end before a rowdy sellout crowd of 4,324 at Manhattan Country Club."

Serena Williams (4) is tied with Monica Seles (6), 2-6, 6-3, 6-6



That's the best and worst thing to see. On one hand, she's a game away from beating Serena for the first time, but on the other hand, she's also a few points away from losing a true heartbreaker.

When I first saw the trailor for "The Others," I thought it looked lame - like a cheesy British version of a movie we've seen 20 times during the past few horror flick-filled years. But the reviews are amazing and now I'm really anxious to see it. I like Nicole Kidman and, to be honest, all of the chaos surrounding her divorce is making me more sympathetic and, in turn, making me root for her.

Ugh.



Once you start, you can't stop. In the process of changing the rest of the pages over to this design...

Hmmm.

Well, now, as you can see, everything is all spiffy. I love this design. I took a jpeg Ben made and fiddled with the idea before figuring out how to make all of the elements in Photoshop. I put everything together in Dreamweaver - first time I'd used it - and I fucking love it. So fun.



I think I'll leave everything else, but some of the old sections are unlinked. RIP.

In case you bypass it, the splash/index page is new and, I think, spiffed up. But if your resolution is less than 1024 it will probably look insane.



I'll fix some other site-related things tomorrow...

I used to write a lot of vignettes or journal entries that were shrouded in anonymity. They were vague and, I thought, sort of poetic. But while all of the mystery and sweeping generalizations left me feeling satisfied, I doubt anyone else had much fun reading them. During the past few days I've (re)visited some websites that follow that formula - and they bore me to tears. It might be necessary to hide truths (which was the case, sometimes, in my entries), and that's understandable, but in a lot of situations, I think it's just a cheap ploy, a way to appear intelligent and artistic.



Does that make any sense? My point is, big words and intruiging statements do not quality writing.

Photos from around the house and from our impromptu picnic by the SF Bay in Richmond are here. Photos from L.A. should be up soon.

Monica Seles is heading into tomorrow's semifinal against either top-seeded Martina Hingis or Ai Sugiyama after defeating two impressive opponents. Seles, who has basically been out of commission since mid-Spring because of a foot injury, missed the French Open and WImbledon, but is playing top-notch tennis this week at the Acura Classic. She just defeated the hottest player on the tour, Jennifer Capriati, in 52 minutes. Yesterday, she beat Meghann Shaughnessy, who has come out of nowhere and reached the top 15. Hopefully, Seles can kick some ass tomorrow and increase her fitness (which is already better than it has been in recent years) during the final few weeks before the U.S. Open.

Repetitive... Every day, the weather forcast is exactly the same in the Bay Area:



"Morning fog and low clouds in most areas...clearing to near the ocean by midday. Otherwise sunny. Highs from around 60 at the ocean to the upper 70s inland."

"A 20-year-old house wife, Lami Gwarma'u has prayed a Sharia court in Gusau, the Zamfara capital to dissolve her marriage to save her from developing vesico-vaginal-fistula (VVF) and untimely death. Lami, who was testifying before the court at the weekend, claimed that her husband, Gwarma'u Chiwake possessed an over-sized genital that had not been able to penetrate her organ since they were married three months ago." |More|

So, now the news is that Mariah Carey has suffered an emotional breakdown. Do robots have emotions? I guess they do realize when they desperately need publicity to jumpstart upcoming album and movie sales, though.

The battle to tame the beast has begun.



Three years after my first attempt at learning to drive stick, I'm at it again. Since I won't be bringing my car to San Francisco and Ben's is manual, I have to learn this time. So, last night found me, mostly successfully, zooming around an IKEA parking lot (at breakneck speeds of up to 30 mph!). The security guards were ... intrigued. At one point, I pulled into a psuedo parking spot and waited for a man to come out of a nearby building because I was totally afraid of stalling in front of anyone. He asked if I was waiting for someone inside the building. "I'm learning to drive," I said. Needless to say, he sort he rolled his eyes and quickly walked away as Ben tried to save face by shouting, "Stick!"

We figured out that between Friday night and Sunday night, we had spent about 18 hours in the car.



Four of those hours were spent driving south through the barren, deserty part of California to Lost Hills, where we stopped for Friday night. It was hot as hell. When we left Oakland it was about 65 degrees - typical - but in Lost Hills it was about 85 at 11 p.m. When we left at 9 the next morning it was already in the 80s, heading toward 100. Definitely not my scene.



We drove south for about through hours, over the Santa Monica Mountains, where the car almost overheated, and into L.A. We went straight into the valley to Thousand Oaks, where we were staying at the lovely Motel 6. From there it was back into the fog, in Ventura, and south along the coastal highway to Malibu, where it was gorgeous. We chilled at Zuma Beach for about two hours before going back to the valley. But at the beach I just had to call a couple of friends trapped in land-locked states. I’m really sweet like that.



Ben was exhausted, but we got back in the car a short while later to meet up with Charles, who was nice enough to show us around Santa Monica and surrounding areas. We walked along the packed promenade, watching little wonderkids playing guitar and singing. My eyes were focused on potential celebrity spottings, though. Unfortunately, there was none of that. We grabbed dinner at an Italian place and headed a town away to Venice for a party. The party was at a really cute beach house, so I was completely focused on heading over to the water. We were told that Venice isn't the safest beach at night, but it was very cool there.



After some L.A. wandering, we went back to Thousand Oaks and completely crashed - thank God - because the next day was exhausting. We were in the car for 80 percent of it, but it was a killer.



We decided to take 101 and 1 up the coast on our way back to the Bay Area. The fog thing is so weird in CA. I'm not used to anything like that invading the East Coast, but this heavy fog will descend and totally take over for miles and miles. Then, there will be bright blue skies for just as long before the fog returns. Weird.



Well, there was absolutely spectacular weather in Santa Barbara, where we hung around the beach and wharf for a while before lunching on State St. It was just a perfect coastal California city. We also had this kick-ass ice cream at a creamery (Cold Stone?), where the employees mushed the toppings into the icea cream using scoopers instead of blenders. I had my ice cream in a chocolate-covered waffle bowl that was beyond description.



The rest of the drive was insane, we decided to take 1 from San Luis Obispo to Monterrey. Things looked good for a while, we were on a 55-mph road offering gorgeous coastal views, but then we went into some mountains and we ended up spending hours on windy, slow roads. Once we hit Big Sur, things started to speed up and, finally, at Carmel, we were on normal streets. But we just had to stop for a bit in Carmel because the sun was setting. We found this awesome white-sand beach and hung out there for a bit before heading back to 101 to trudge past SIlicon Valley and into East Bay.



Oy. Just writing about it exhausts me.



Anyway, there should be photos soon. Hint hint.

My first trip to L.A.



Well, we're driving about four hours south tonight to East Bumblefuck, CA. Tomorrow morning, early, we'll continue to the luxurious, posh Motel 6 in Thousand Oaks, which is like 30 minutes from L.A., really close to Malibu.



My only demands are that we loiter in Beverly Hills and hang around some warm CA beaches since everything up here in the Bay Area is freezing at all times.

A revelation!



Part of my Britney Spears adoration comes from my absolute love of the Disney Channel's MMC. I would curse my family for not subscribing to the channel and anxiously wait for the free preview weeks. Any kid who loved to sing or dance must have been all over this show (or the comparable Kids Incorporated, featuring a young Jennifer Love Hewitt).



Anyone who used to watch "The All New Mickey Mouse Club" in the early 90s will love this site. It has song clips from every season, including the final two, which featured Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera and Justin Timberlake along with the seasoned vets, J.C. and Keri Russel. I must admit, my favorite on the show wasn't Britney, but Jennifer. When a girl I went to high school with told me that she ran into Jennifer in an elevator at NYU, I was very jealous - the girl can sing. Anyway, there are photos, videos and sound clips for the MMC fans to check out. Where else can you hear Britney and Christina singing together?

Which of the following did TJ see this week?



A. A huge peacock chillin on the side of the road in the foggy, cold Berkeley hills.

B. A man with a particularly active case of Tourette's Syndrome on the subway.

C. Two members of N Sync en route to their tour bus in downtown San Francisco.

D. All of the above.



You guessed it; D. INteresting few days.



Other highlights include an above-average party last night in Duboce Triangle, going to the Ansel Adams Center with Terri and seeing the unfairly reviewed "America's Sweethearts." I thought it was pretty funny, cute, intelligent and both the leading and supporting actors were solid, btw.

Did you ever think I'd be on Badpuppy?

I couldn't care less about cycling, but you better believe I'll be checking Lance Armstrong's progress throughout the week.

Hell yeah.

If you've never been to San Francisco, check out this photo project from ktheory.com. It has some great shots of downtown.

My usual sick cycle lasts five days. On day one, I feel the beginnings of sniffles and start to panic, but still get a decent night's sleep. When I wake up on day two, I'm OK, but by dinner, I'm toast. Day three finds me at my headachy, congested, whiny worst. Day four shows slight improvement and by the end of day five, I'm almost 100 percent better.



Yesterday, though, I woke up and was fine. I even made breakfast in bed (improvising for the lack of syrup by using vanilla syrup, sugar and honey), but by the time we saw Legally Blonde (not as good as it's model, Clueless, but enjoyable), I was not happy. Bewtween dinner and bed I was pouting, storming around and talking about cutting my face off.



But, miraculously, after Ben found an Aleve Cold & Sinus pill, I peacefully fell asleep and have been mostly decongested ever since.



Freakish 12-hour cold or momentary calm before the storm?

I really want to learn to spin just so I can be DJ TJ.

IamhereattheKremlin/QoolpartyandthereisInterneteverywhere

butthisparticularcomputerhasnospacekey.Hahaha.So,hi.

Marion says I should update so...



Yesterday Ben and I drove through the mountains and down the coastal highway to go to Monterey, which I'd heard a lot about. It was only moderately fun, mostly because it was foggy (wtf, there is no fog on New Jersey beaches) and freezing. For some ridiculous reason, Ben didn't want to go to a beach to watch the sunset, so I had to turn my head 90 degrees to see the pinks and oranges through the car window. Good times.



Today, Terri comes up from Palo Alto and we're all gonna get our drink on. You know what I'm sayin'? Wink wink.



Oh, and by the way, If I don't see Legally Blonde before the weekend is over, I'll be in hysterics.

Speaking of babies, my picture was added to the web babies project over at wannabegirl.org.

My dream baby. "Yo ass don't match yo bitch."

Bitch, you are funny! It's like...a little bit das krack haus, a little bit rock and roll.

Mom: What did you do this weekend?



TJ: Uh...a lot of drinking, I guess.



Ben and I went into the Mission with Beth and a couple of her friends on Friday night to bar hop. My night-long quest for a Buttery Nipple finally ended at our final bar, the Lexington, total lesbian bar. It was so insane, to the point where this guy who was macking on Ben while he waited for our drinks actually said, "Are you a guy or a girl?" Because you just could not tell there.



Saturday night was a birthday party at 111 Minna, immediately followed by Looq Hard. More drinking, mostly gross things like foreign beers and ... wine. But I succeeded in getting thoroughly drunk, drunk enough to dance for a good long while with Ben and even, after much begging, to jump up on the stage with him.



Brought it down a couple of levels yesterday, doing the domesticated thing. We bought glasses and a blender before hitting the supermarket (Safeway sucks ass). Then we had a picnic at the beach. Aren't you jealous? Well, don't be. It was really cold, really foggy and we forgot to bring towels. But, still, it could be 30 degrees and snowing and I'd still love being at the beach.



What's up for this week? More of this. Laying around, that is. I hear about one job tomorrow. No biggie either way. Also, Terri is flying in today to spend the summer in Palo Alto. I guess my departure was too much for her to handle... :) So, that's great. I'll have a little partner in crime this week while Ben's slaving away for the man.

I was standing on the corner of Mission and 6th, talking to Lauren on my cell because I was about 15 minutes early for my interview. As I chatted, I noticed a young, dark-haired girl without all her teeth saunter out of a nearby motel in shorts and a halter top. She saw me in my black suit, lingering on a sketchy street corner and assumed I wanted some play. So I had a prostitute circling me for about five minutes while I talked to a friend. I didn't leave right away because I thought it was hysterical, but when she passed by and whispered something inaudibly, it was time to tear ass across the street.

Sometimes you just wanna send a big fuck you out into the cosmos.



So... Fuck you, asshole. Maybe I mean you.

On Saturday, when I left, the temperature was 95. When I landed at Oakland Airport, a billion hours later, it was in the 60s.



Despite leaving an inferno for weather paradise, I was pretty emotional. Seeing, hearing and feeling my mom cry as we said goodbye was tough. I sort of laughed at her as it was happening, as I'm apt to do, but when I was walking down the ranp toward the plane I teared up - just a bit.



But ... I am happy.

The past week has been full of amazing moments I'll remember forever. Thanks.



I'm leaving for JFK airport in about two and a half hours. By 11 p.m. PST, I'll be at my summer home. Excited?



Peace out, New Jersey.

Rainbows and drag queens and gays, oh my!



More photos from New York City's Gay Pride parade are here.

I spent 30 minutes tearing this house apart look for my car keys. Meanwhile, Terri was waiting on the tennis courts at Northern Highlands, without a cell phone or any other way for me to contact her.



Can I get a "Funk dat?"



FUNK DAT.

P.S. Charlie's website is goooood times. And he is a good guy. Yes, it's true.

Ben and I have debated over which pride celebration would be bigger, San Francisco or New York. I don't know how numbers compare, but today's event - the culmination of a week of pride activities - was kick-ass. The clouds and rain stopped just in time. It was sort of poetic - the rain ending and a billion little rainbows (in the form of ribbons and flags and balloons) appearing. Anyway, the parade featured everything from traditonally tacky drag queens to Cyndi Lauper singing while trying to balance on top of a float to Hillary Clinton walking into a storm of applause. (Literally five seconds before she came past us, I saw another politician's signs and sad to someone, I want Hillary to march. It was scary)



There were more people than I had ever seen in the city, which is quite remarkable. Afterwards, at the pier dance at Chelsea Piers, we heard that tickets for 50 bucks each. After some hesitation, we walked up to the ticket holder's line and bargained with the obviously drunk ticket takers, eventually throwing down two five-dollar bills for four of us and walking in. There was a sea of shirtless men - and practically no women - dancing and flirting. The big rumor rocking the pier was that either Britney or Madonna was going to be the special quest. Obviously, I was in a bind. I hadn't planned on staying that late, but the thought of missing Britney made me want to throw myself into the river (and if I find out she was there you'll be able to hear my shrieks acrodss the country). Eventually, when we heard Brandy's name enter into the equation, we decided to leave - but not after seeing Debbie Gibson. Oh yeah, baby. She did a new song before breaking into an a cappella version of "Only in My Dreams."



... and then I came home and found three goodbye card from my mom that made me tear up.



It's hit me the past two nights as I've driven home. Inevitably, there is some sappy song about sayign goodbye on the radio that makes me want to burst into tears.



Let the countdown begin. Six days.

There would have been more if Blogger hadn't destroyed my post.



Funk dat.



Pridefest tomorrow. Peace out.

Last night I had my first surprise party ever. I was completely out of the loop, to the shock of everyone. Last night also marked the first time I had to drag a semi-conscious friend into bed, clean up puke and other such not-so-cute things.



More later.

My brother has a major chip on his shoulder and it's really pathetic to watch him lash out at others instead of dealing with anything. It's sad because he just lacks the emotional maturity to handle things, so he regresses and acts out like a 10-year-old. He's going to be 20 in December and I really don't forsee any major changes in attitudes or behavior. And, you know, it's not like I wouldn't like to have a sibling I could interact with, someone who could handle an adult conversation, a person who could deal with frustration or negativity without resorting to juvenile trash-talking or destruction. So, I try to just ignore him because I know that we're not on the same wavelength, but it's really tough to not want to knock him on his ass sometimes.

Lesson: When playing with Snickers, don't open mouth. The dog will try to lick your face and will end up french kissing you.

Today I went to the beach.

Today I sat under the sun.

Today I rubbed special sparkly tanning lotion into my skin.

Today my skin turned bright red.



I just hope it doesn't peel off tomorrow.

nooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A streak? Journalicious.

blue-green hair makes everything except blue look ridiculous



p.diddy.s. has anyone seen the movie "sing" with that girl from "homefront" and patti labell and lorraine bracco and the juniors and seniors put on a musical competition and it's awful and wonderful all at once? why does blockbuster mock me?

Also, I just checked my stats for the first time in about a month (I don't know what was wrong with me - temporary insanity), and I found all of these new linkers, including David Ferré. Hello? This is a former Targum editor I've heard stories about but never met, I don't think. Very random. The power of the Internet, I guess.



Hello, David.

If Ben goes to San Francisco's pride parade with Brian from outage.com it means that my Ben will meet my Tim before I do!



I was supposed to fly to SF on the 23rd, a day before the parade, giving me time to meet up with the kid whose site I've followed for ... a long time. But now I'm going a week later. How unfair is that?



But whatever, because I'm tan and I'm returning to the beach tomorrow and that almost makes up for it. And I will demand guilt favors.

It was very apropos. The Elvis Costello-wannabe onstage at the Sidewalk Cafe in the East Village was singing a song called, "Drinking Beers with Mom." Everyone at our booth kept looking over at me and my newly coiffed mom, who had just done a shot of goldschlager with me.



Rewind to 5:30 p.m. Terri and I drove into Hoboken and PATHed to the city (I may be moving to San Francisco, but New York will always be "the city"), where we ate a less-than-thrilling dinner at Manatus (Christopher and Bleeker Sts.). We bummed around for a bit, darting between air-conditioned stores because the heat and humidity were truly oppressive. I kept shouting, "It's like we're in Thailand!" Terri, who had just come back from nearly a year in Hong Kong can vouch for how disgustingly humid it was, especially later in the evening.



After drinking a lovely deep chocolate peanut butter shake and spinning some records at a rad store, we walked past a sunglasses stand. I had been whining that I needed a new pair. As I was checking them out, I noticed that the store next door did tatoos and piercings. Terir had mentioned that she wanted a tatoo, but I didn't expect that she'd walk right in and get one that second!



After a 30 minute wait, a man who had tatooed Carmen Elektra, Jesse Camp and Tommy Lee (we saw the pictures - he actually changed Tommy's Heather tatoo to Pamela) was inking an onk onto Terri's back. It was insane - and hurt like hell, she says. If I had had the 45 bucks I would have gotten the Chinese character for fire on my arm, but I'm a poor mofo. The blue hair has made me a fierce bitch.



We had just enough time to grab a cab and jump to the other side of Manhattan to see Derek's band play at Sidewalk Cafe. It was a family affair. My Aunts Laura (Derek's wife) and Liz met us there. Then, my mom and Earl showed up,. to the shock of many. My mother may be cool and young, but she's not the type to stay up past 11 - even on weekends.



So there we are, two generations swapping stories about first times getting drunk, about drug use in middle and high school. Taking shots together! Insanity.



Mom and Earl dropped us off back on 9th St. so we could chill. I wasn't really in the mood to move through the soupy air, but we kept walking, searching for food and good music. We walked past this gay bar on Christopher St. called "The Hangar." the music sounded great, but the sign with "Go-Go Boys" turned me off. But, we decided to go if there was no cover, so there I was, sitting next to one of a handful of women in the whole place, watching a short, muscled guy with too much junk in the trunk shake what his momma gave him (like that?) as a parade of gay stereotypes oogled each other. We also made friend with a very flamboyant and "fierce" guy who kept insisting that he should get his black ass back to Brooklyn, but continued to chat, giving us high-fives and hugs every 30 seconds.



Waiting at the Christopher St. PATH station, a ran into Tom from Targum and a couple of other people I kind of know. I had a total crush on Tom freshman year - for about 30 seconds, but still, it's always fun to see him.



But the weirdest part of the whole night, I think, was driving back to my house, past a minibus full of guys who had just gotten trashed. As we drove past the bus I noticed there was a TV. When we passed it, I saw that they were watching porn! Like, some chick was getting fucked on screen - it was one of those moments.

Hi. I'm T.J.



I have blue hair. Check it out: one | two

I'm absolutely in love with "A Dating Story" on TLC. Obsessed!



It just warms my heart when there's a match!!!



:)

"Computer games don't affect kids; I mean if Pac-Man affected us as kids, we'd all be running around in darkened rooms, munching magic pills and listening to repetitive electronic music."



-Kristian Wilson, Nintendo, Inc, 1989

Dear diary,



I have something to tell/show you.



Tomorrow.



Nighty night.

Dinner conversation:



Mom - "Did you know that Earl broke a spatula on my ass?"

Earl - "I don't think we should be talking about that."

Marion, your new site is ... fierce.

Check out the photos...



(God, there are some awful ones)

Ann Arbor sure is arboreal, but it didn't quite live up to its reputation as "the perfect college town." Granted, the U of M area, at least the main campus, is a lot like Berkeley - cute, busy and full of restaurants, but most of the town falls somewhere between New Brunswick and Princeton.



I wasn't there for the scenery, though. I was there to meet Ben's parents, sister and friends - a tight-knit, drama-heavy group of people I'd heard stories about for more than a year. I knew all about their issues and histories. I knew how much they all adore Ben, so the party we had the first night we were there was semi-intense. Adding a dash of TJ into this group required one important ingredient: alcohol.



I was really buzzed by the time Andrea drove up from Toledo with her friend. And by the time they left, I was wasted. I spent most of the night in the kitchen, pretty anti-social of me, but I met all of the important people, including the legendary Brenna. Graham, Kate, Ben Levy and Marion were all there, as well. It was bizarre to look across the room and see someone whose site I've read for months and another person who I know has loved and hurt my Ben.



The trip, overall, was a blast. We double dated with Brenna and Brooke at a kick-ass breakfast place, saw Moulin Rouge (loved it), went to Ben's sister Emily's graduation and did a lot of hanging around - which the kids in Ann Arbor seem to do a lot of.



We also visited Ben's high school, Community High. This is Ann Arbor's "alternative" high school and it shows. Students call their teachers by their first names, they have forums, which are like homerooms but much more intense (they go on camping trips with their forums and stuff like that). There are rainbow stickers everywhere. It seems to be a very open, intense (albeit changing) place.



At Emily's graduation, the consensus became clear, these kids adore their school. At the ceremony, every student got a chance to speak on stage and about 75 percent of them talked about how Community allowed them to be free or find themselves, how they couldn't have survived in the city's other two high schools. The students are diverse, but most seem incredibly creative and intelligent. People used their stage time to recite beat poetry, play instruments, slam the administration and even spin turntables.



Let me say a few things about Ben's family. His parents are very nice. They seem like hippies who've become sort of WASPy. They're very open and cool, but traditional: dinner together (gasp!). Emily, his sister, is amazing. She's funny, a smarty (top five percent of her class), sarcastic and as open as they come. Seeing how strong the family's roots are, it's no wonder Ben is such am amazing kid.



It's definitely odd to see someone in their home environment for the first time, but it made me feel closer to Ben. And I really felt comfortable and at home for the most part. A lot of people must have thought of me as an intruder (and, honestly, I felt like I had to prove something to friends and family), but everyone treated my kindly - and I really appreciate it.



And, hey, did you hear about the pink house, where Madonna gave birth to a kid while she was attending U of M? :)

Back in NJ. I just booked my one-way (ah!) flight to Oakland. June 30. I had to delay it a week, but it's all finalized.



Now, I just have to figure out that pesky job situation.



(More on the Ann Arbor trip later...)

Dear Ben,



Wake up. It's 2 p.m., you bastard.



Love, TJ



P.S. I'm in Ann Arbor, MI, having a good time.

The dates they are a changing...



Tell me astory about me and you and I know how it will end, happily ever after, just like it will begin. And I'll show you a happy boy and a girl if you show me a picture of me and you...

Leaving is fine.



But this prolonged goodbye period is unsettling. I left my job, I left my apartment, I'm starting the goodbye process with my friends. I'll be saying goodbye to my family throughout the next three weeks.



In the kitchen a few days ago I said something about San Francsico and my mother randomly teared up. "It's going to be a long month," I told her.



But it will be a short month, I fear. Saturday I'm off to Ann Arbor. I will finally get to look into his eyes again.



Then I'm back, but ping-ponging from friend to family to dinners to movies. Perhaps a quick trip to Baltimore for a party next weekend? We'll see.



It may not be a long month, but it will be a tough month. June 23rd is nearing.

I'm so tempted to post a picture here ...

One hour to go.



Farewell lunch. Farewell party with cake. Early hug from Selean.



Sigh.

My last story for DiversityInc.com is about the concern among Asian-American organizations that "Pearl Harbor" may spur anti-Asian sentiment since it's such a highly emotional issue. Go read it (no linkie, sorry). But I talk a bit about come of the changes Disney made to the version of the film that will run in Japan. Check this out.

OH MY GOD.



Tomorrow is my last day at work. This is way insane.



Tonight, a big group of us are going out to dinner and to the martini bar to get me liquored up. I feel so loved.

All I have to say is: UNACCEPTABLE.



Buffy, what have you done? Why do you taunt me with this obviously impossible cliffhanger?



You see, the problem with this show, and all shows with bad guys, is there's too much talk. In this show, the dialogue is exceptional, but if the bad guys would stop showboating and just kill people, they'd be much more effective. Similarly, if Dawn had just thrown herself off the ... thing, then my darling Buffy wouldn't be pseudo dead.

It's been a few days - because smart people spend more time contemplating existentialism than blogging.



Also, they read lots of interviews with 12-year-old girls:



Frankie said she had a nice butt and then one day he woke up and goes "uh, her butt's ugly," and then everyone agreed with him.

In what will mark her first regular TV involvement since she began her career dancing in the Flygirl ensemble of the Fox comedy series ``In Living Color,'' Jennifer Lopez has made a deal with NBC to star in and produce a special this fall.



She also will develop a series based on her family and life in the Bronx. Gag.



But here's the good part. The story goes on to say that the deal was the brainchild of Jeff Gaspin, head of alternative series and specials for NBC Entertainment. He formed a friendship with Lopez while he was working at VH1.



This is his quote: “I can't wait to see what Jennifer will wear.”



Either he’s shamelessly horny or extremely gay.

Smart TJ.

Hey, I'm smart, and I have proof!



3.875 GPA this semester.

It's really cool when you tell you're editor, "Oh this story is going to be late, I'm waiting on quotes." And she responds, "Oh. OK. It's a dumb story anyway."



Well, I don't wanna do it, then!



:)

I'm writing stories about PBS and the Environmental Protection Agency, but, surprisingly, I'm sort of excited about them. I think the PBS story will be fun because I'm in love with American High (despite having caught only three episodes) and I get to feature it.

Leads are my specialty. I try to make them concise and creative, but it took me close to 20 minutes of staring my computer screen before this lead came to me. It earned praise from my editor, so I demand praise from you.

There’s no place like Home Depot, unless you’re one of the Fortune 500 company’s gay employees.

Despite its reputation as a champion of diversity, the country’s largest home-improvement chain is urging its shareholders to reject a resolution that would include gays in its anti-discrimination policy.

“Home Depot claims to bar employment discrimination, but its written policies do not explicitly bar discrimination based on sexual orientation,” the resolution states. “By implementing a written policy prohibiting discrimination based on sexual orientation, our company will ensure a respectful and supportive atmosphere for all employees and enhance its competitive edge.”

Gay-themed commercials are a relatively new phenomenon born from a recent realization that the gay community’s disposible income is too great for corporate America to ignore.

The Commercial Closet, on online archive of hundreds of gay-themed TV commercials from around the world, offers an interesting commentary and history of gay advertising.

Today I love:

The overweight, balding, older man sitting in his white Mercedas, pumping gangsta rap.

Today I hate:

Candice Choi, who left for Puerto Rico after having destroyed my desk plant at work in a jealous rage. My plant was lucious and healthy and hers was pitiful. Revenge will be mine.

Our company is being featured in a Business Week story about CEOs sounding off on diversity in corporate America. It's fun to see our president, Luke, in the same story as the head of AOL Time Warner.

Why does Felicity and Dawson's Creek *affect* me?

It's all goodbye and graduation and love and sadness and joy. This conflict of emotions that the characters, and me, exhausted and excited all at once.

Hmm.

Last final completed.

It's all coming to a close so quickly. I stop and look every once in a while, aware that this could be my last time walking on Douglass campus or taking the L bus or driving past Passion Puddle.

At home, this weekend, I drove and drove and drove along the too-familiar roads of Allendale, across the overpass in Ramsey, down the windy streets of Upper Saddle River. Watching everything. Conscious of time and firsts and lasts.

I want to slow everything down and speed it up. I want to lay on my futon at home and I want to read the Chronicle on his futon. I want it all.

"And if I knew everything would end soon, I'd still choose to be with you."

Yesterday it was 88 degrees, today it is 58. What have we done to anger Mother Nature?

Another [unrelated] question: Why does the org bring me such joy? Honestly, I think that since it was one of the first online journal-esque sites I came acress, back in 1997 or early 1998, and since it's design has remained mostly the same, it provides a since of familiarity - something that will come in handy this summer.

To end this trilogy of randomata, I think I'm, buying the Eden's Crush CD today. I can't help myself, they're so talented! Seriously, yo, I refused to watch Making the Band and Popstars (and all other reality shows other than Real World, in protest), but I caught part of an MTV Popstars marathon, and I feel in love with the girls. In. Love. Plus, they sound way better live than on the single for "Get Over Yourself," which is no small feat.

I just called the Democratic National Committee, and was going to leave a message with the communications department, but the voice mail troll said: You have a maximum of two seconds to record your message. And it actually cut me off after two seconds!

Im a little late on this, seeing as how I have NO CABLE and NO INTERNET, but this is really funny:

"Hanson admits to incestuous homosexuality"

The funniest bit is that Candice actually thought this was real. Talk about a P.R. blunder.

TJ is a sun reflecting sparkle.

I feel dried out and a smell of suntan lotion.

It's brilliant.

I zoomed down to Ocean Grove this afternoon and sat in the sun (cloudless skies + 87 degree temp.) reading Rolling Stone and Shampoo Planet. I walked around, sang as loud as I could on a secluded part of the beach and continued up Route 36, exploring sea towns I'd never visited before. Eatontown, Sea Bright, Sandy Hook, Atlantic Highlands.

Tomorrow, I take my Shakespeare final at 12. I hope I'll be done by 2 so I can head back down the highway and enjoy another warm, sunny day. And finish this wicked tan I started developing today. I even found my suntan lotion with special sun reflecting sparkles! Ha ha ha.

tjdegroat.com

Temporary design, but serves its purpose, for now.

1. Apparantly, there is a water crisis in New Brunswick, with fecal matter showing up in water. McDonalds is serving cans instead of fountain soda and the Stop & Shop ran out of bottled water this morning, according to the lovely Kathy.

2. My professor for media law mistakingly told us our final is tomorrow, which is really a reading day. Our final is *next* Wednesday. Kathy and I only discovered this through luck and after calling the journalism department.

3. Since I don't have to study tonight, I'm going to Manhattan to see Margaret Cho at a book reading/signing with Candice. Good times.

Looking at the ingredients of my gummi strawberries, I realize there is grape, pear and apple juice, but no strawberry flavoring...

Dude, I've interviewed Heather Cirmo a couple of times and, although I should remain objective, her opinions and those of the Family Research Council, would make even a casually gay-friendly person's mouth drop. Their section on the "Homosexual agenda" is a quite funny read, though.

Rabbit, rabbit.

Such a student-riffic day.

I left work early, around 5, and got to the library to meet Angela and Ben R. around 5:30. We went through "A Winter's Tale" and "The Tempest, looking for quotes, until 7:15 when we hopped over to the ... gasp ... dining hall to meet Jes. It was Monopoly night. How horribeautiful.

After catching up with Jes and eating ice cream sandwiches, we went back to the library to go over the 6 possible essays on the final exam.

I am a smart, responsible boy!

Dude, at least they don't say "pop."

They also say "bloke" and "shag" though. Ech.

Working on a story about London's Metropolitan Police, aka Scotland Yard. I'm quite smitten with Miriam in the press office, simple because she's British. She said, "Right then, cheers." Melt.

I'm such a typical American.

I had a paper due Tuesday. Handed in a really poor effort Wednesday. Mind you, this is a difficult Spanish lit. class. My first comp. was a B+ and I actually spent time on it. But here's an email from my professor I got today...

Hola T.J.,

Has escrito un trabajo excelente! Tu nota de la composicion es A, y tu nota
en el curso es un A tambien.

Buenas vacaciones

Maybe I should rethink this school thing.

That is all.

Oh My God. I mean, it's quite a feat that has been able to survive, but, come on, this is a face that would frighten children ... and me.

I was split me yesterday - a day that began with my final Adv. Reporting class, continued with six hours of work and ended at my first Rutgersfest.

There, I realized I hate people and love them. I judge them, but can't help but adore them...

There, I was pushed 20 feet back within five seconds as an impromptu mosh pit formed, with muscled Frat boys flying at each other and almost knocking poor me on my ass a couple of times.

There, I realized I love Rutgers. And saying goodbye will be difficult...

I'm sitting in the Mac lab in the journalism building, having just sent my final project through the list serv. I'm lingering.

Last night, after my final Spanish class at Rutgers, as I hugged Telena and said goodbye to Blair, I became semi-sad. It's strange to have looked forward to this date for so long, the date of my liberation from the pressure and headache of school, but I'm more upset than I thought I'd be. I don't mean to sound like I've been up all night contemplating my fate or any such nonsense, it's just something to think about.

What's left?

I have a study (and ice cream sundae) session with the other cool kids in Media Law and then two finals next week, but after that, all I have to do is spend two weeks wrapping things up at work. Then I'm off to Ann Arbor (my ticket arrived today) and off to San Francisco, possibly forever.

It's bizarre.

I think I'm going to be walking around in a haze for the next month and a half.

Please, please, please hire me.

The Internet magazine Salon.com Wednesday launched a new subscription service that offers premium content, including what it calls ``erotic art and photography,'' for a $30 annual fee.

More here.

Seems pretty lame to me. Like an easy way to make some dough. But, what do I know? I whore myself on this here site...

Speaking of which, the site is two years old as of yesterday. I had planned on redesigning, but, well, you know. First I want to get tjdegroat.com off the ground. Ben? A little help, please.

The audio section of this website is sorely neglected. [Don't miss the first two files — they're out.]

A love ten-minute classes. I came in, talked to my professor about the final package of stories I'm handing in Friday (the last day of classes here) and I'm "ret ta go."

My package, on the Route 18 expansion project and how it effects the Rutgers Ecological Preserve, will consist of a main story featuring the misconception in how much land will be effected, a profile on an environmentalist whose actions, honestly, have been sort of tangential, and a series of graphics and photos.

Just so you know...

Anyway, I'm off to renew my driver's license. Pray for a decent photo.

Ben was sitting on the stone bench in front of Au Bon Pan, reading a book. He look up and smiled. I looked down and covered my grinning face with my hands.

He was here. He is gone.

All day Friday things were strange. I was getting weird, one-line emails every hour or so from Ben. His cell phone was off. At the end of the day, my editor ran over to my desk and said, "I can't let you go home! I wanna make sure you're paid for all of your hours." I just smiled and nodded, knowing I'm only schedule to work until 5:30 Fridays. I chalked that comment and the giggling in her office to temporary insanity.

During the drive home, Candice suddenly insisted that we stop for a cookie at the Student Center, practically kidnapping me. When we entered Au Bon Pan, she said she was going to the bathroom, but was back 10 seconds later, sayng she had to show me something.

And it was him. "Surprise! Happy Birthday."

We went to restaurants, sweated in the humid 80-degree heat, walked through campus, explored Princeton, sat on the beach at Ocean Grove, had brunch with Mom and Laura, hit the Targum party and a packed fiesta at Leslie's house.

It was comfortable and sweet and wonderful...

Thank you.

Oh my God. My face is red.

Barbara and Candice just gave me my birthday present - and it is absolutely hysterical.

.... A BOY SCOUT UNIFORM.

Since I've written about 12 stories about the Scouts' anti-gay policies, they thought it would be a cute idea. Apparently, this has been in the works since November. So, I have my very own hat, shirt with Boy Scout logo and flag patch, shorts and a Central New Jersey Council badge.

I refused to put it on, but I did don the cap for a few pictures. I'm thinking I'll come into work on my last day in the outfit.

Oh, and Ben, don't get any ideas.

Apparently, my guestbook has been broken since July. I wondered why no one loved me, but no everything is fixed, so go read some of the entries and add new ones.

Also, if you wrote in the book and I never responded/acknowledged your existence, well, my bad.

Frau Choi, why doth thou protest?

Hi. I'm T.J.

I'm 21.
I'm moving to San Francisco.
I own a Palm VIIx.
I'm happy.

Read about it.

Anyone find the idea of "Good Friday the 13th" a little scary/funny?

What about this? I was on the F bus, heading down College Ave., when I spotted police cars in front of Scott Hall. As we approached, I realized it was about 100 Christians marching behind a huge, wooden cross! Another part of Jesus Awareness Week, I guess. Kind of freaky, though, to randomly see a giant cross on the street on my way to work.

Very ... social/political/empowering vibe on campus today.

Take Back the Night participants will convene at the steps of Brower Commons for the open-mic portion of the event, when women share stories of abuse and how they overcame the negative incidents. And just down College Ave., the campus ministries are holding an event - part of Jesus Awareness Week - during which some random kid named make "testifies" to God. Eileen is actually part of the whole, crazy schpeel, so I'm gonna check it out. Then I'll go to Take Back the Night.

Very different.

One more card waiting at my apartment yesterday...

Three cards from the Ben sitting on my desk at work...

Total cards as of 10 a.m., April 11 = 16

Yesterday, after I came back from another lunch exploration (this time it was Indian food - eh), the office manager bounced over to my desk to deliver my copy of Time magazine. She also handed over four cards and said, "Who is stalking you from Oakland???"

Four funny, lovely, sweet birthday cards from Ben.

Later that night, I was watching "Truth or Dare" and trying to finish up a ten-page paper about the media's contributions to eating disorders through lackluster content and impossible imagery when it started pouring. I went downstairs and stood on the porch for a few minutes. It was the kind of warm rain (70 was the high yesterday) that smells so clean and unmistakably like spring.

I came back upstairs and noticed new mail in our collective bin. Eight more cards from Ben.

Made my night.

About an hour ago, Cathleen came to my room with another card from the boy. Should I be expecting 21 by the time the week is through? We'll see...

If anyone else wants to send my a teejaymas card, hit the contact page. You have until Sunday! Gimme gimme gimme.

I feel ... disconnected.

I feel ... selfish.

I feel ... frazzled.

I feel ... like I'm going to cry.

I feel ... like I should. Just. Stop.

Stop.

Check out the new news syndicate for Yahoo! (You're looking for the "gay chorus" headline)

Not an amazing story, but it's actually up there...the first of many!

It's gorgeous here today. Low 60s, sunny skies. Amazing. Three classes were meeting on the grass at Vorhees Mall as I walked by...

Not so amazing was the Shakespeare exam I just found out I had yesterday. Yeah, I've missed a few classes. Even without reading any of the three plays completely (and I didn't touch one of them at all), I actually could have pulled a decent grade.

Crush Link isn't cute.

So, who is it?

At work. Just had a fire drill. Could not believe it. Felt like high school, except did not have to walk down 7 flights of stairs and through catacomb-like passage way to get to safety in high school.

(Yes, have been re-reading Bridget Jones in preparation for film version - should be v. funny.)

[randomata]

When I began making phone calls for a story about the financial
repercussions of the U.S. Supreme Court's decision to allow the Boy Scouts of
America to continue its policy of excluding gays, among other people,
I realized that the issue was much more than a blow for the plaintiff,
James Dale. It was an important story for the entire gay community and,
indeed, spread beyond gays and lesbians, proving how far this country
has come in recent years.

Less than two weeks after the nation's highest court ruled that the Boy
Scouts were justified in kicking out Dale, a former Eagle Scout and
a gay-rights activist at Rutgers University, the community
refocused its efforts. It argued that corporate America and governmental
agencies should face serious backlash if they continued supporting an
openly anti-gay organization.

The efforts caused school districts such as San Francisco, Chicago, New
York City and Broward County, Fla. to question their relationships with
the Scouts. Los Angeles and New York City also debated cutting city
ties with the organization, which would negatively impact vital programs
such as Explorers, which trains underprivileged youth to become police
officers. Sending the message that homophobia is OK was strong enough to
risk ending beneficial programs for minorities, according to activists.
Moreover, corporate donations have dwindled and United Way support has
decreased.

The 37 amicus briefs filed by groups such as the American Federation of
Teachers, the Mexican American Legal Defense and Educational Fund and
National Council of Jewish Women made up one of the most diverse
coalitions to come before the Supreme Court on a gay-rights case. This is an
issue that divided and united Americans.

Many think this is a lose-lose situation. Is it better to drive
minority-youth programs into the ground or save them by allowing an anti-gay
group to control them? I think the story's continued presence in newspapers
and news Web sites since the June Supreme Court decision proves that the
gay-rights and, simply, equal-rights voice is loud and authoritative. The
youth of America is growing up during a time of inequality, but a time
when their voice counts more than ever and divisions between race, gender,
sexuality disability, et al. are falling down. The Boy Scouts decision is an
important one because the decision-making process didn't end with the
Supreme Court. It continues every day with the gay scouts who decide to hide or
speak out and the heterosexual scouts who fight for or against the national
organization. Youth may not be the policy makers, but their actions directly
impact the future.

Although I think David Horowitz is pretty lame, slapping Hillary and Bill Clinton (power reversal) is much fun, even for someone who supports the country's most infamous former first family.

Real quote from Frau Choi:

"Do people in Puerto Rico speak Spanish or Puerto Rican?"

And people wonder why I love her.

(Rabbit, rabbit)

I had the most bizarre dream. It involved a dead dog, my family, Long Beach Island, South Beach, running from the law, g-strings and eating bagels with Jennifer Lopez.

Journal.

It's amazing how much influence your mood has on mine. Your frustrations are my tears. Your happiness is my smile. Look at my face and tell me how you feel.

But it doesn't seem to matter. Is that interesting?

You are beautiful.

I can't deal with finding a spider or any other crawling creature in my room because it makes me wonder how many others lurk in dusty corners, how many take over my room while I'm sleeping.

I. Hate. Bugs.

Sunday at 2 a.m. we lose an hour of sleep but gain an hour of sunlight - but how does this play out in Indiana, our country's very own twighlight zone?

From USA Today:

Indiana lies along the westernmost border of the line that separates Eastern Time and Central Time zones. Of Indiana's 92 counties, 10 lie on the western side of this boundary line and are in the Central Time zone -- the same time as western Kentucky and Chicago. They practice daylight-saving time.

The remaining 82 counties lie in the Eastern Time zone, and of these, 77 remain on Eastern Time all year. They do not change their clocks. But five counties adjacent to Louisville and Cincinnati voluntarily adopt daylight-saving time, which creates the third Indiana time-keeping zone.

Confused? Even some Hoosiers are.

[Short and sweet]

A year ago, one of the coolest, most intriguing, interesting, clever, adorable and genuinely nice people I've ever known entered my life ... in a typically digital way.

Ben IMed me March 27, 2000 while I was trying to repackage a Targum story for my news writing and reporting class. I spent most of my time that night talking to him because he was so incredibly ... odd.

At that point I'd had vignette.org for almost a year and my journal for a year and a half, but Ben had only come across the site during the end of March, when I transitioned the main page to a blog. Thankfully, what he read was interesting enough to prompt him to IM me. And I'm so grateful he did, because from some idle chit chat on a weekday afternoon, while I was at a college newspaper office in New Jersey and he was in a basement/office in Michigan, grew the most rewarding, fulfilling friendship of my life. And the most mature romantic relationship I've had so far.

Since that first day, when he made an appearance in my blog as treeb jen [he would also be tree bjen, jenks and jenkiebaby], he has become a confidant and a best friend. During the past year we've been through stressful work environments, a job hunt, a cross-country move, four San Francisco trips, one East coast journey and countless hours of sharing ourselves. I've never been so close to someone and so eager to find out more. I've never been so comfortable.

My words can do no justice to the absolute joy I've felt because of his kind and generous heart. His words come closest to expressing the intense happiness associated with not just that delightfully insane night in Chico, but all of the past year as well.

[I should mention that tomorrow marks three months from when I landed in San Francisco International Airport for the New Year's trip that changed everything.]

Um, is it just Central NJ, or are Cadbury Minieggs, like, nowhere to be found. Seriously, they are MIA. I've seen them at one Rite-Aid and that's it.

Also, is it just me, or is my media law professor a total bitch?

It's not? Good...

Me like.

Beautiful.

Alien.

WWJLL (What Would Jesus Look Like?)

(From NBC's PR department)

Oscar nominees Stockard Channing ("Six Degrees of Separation," NBC's "The West Wing") and Sam Waterston ("The Killing Fields," NBC's "Law & Order") will portray the parents of hate-crime victim, Matthew Shepard, in a biographical NBC world premiere movie to be executive-produced by Oscar-winner Goldie Hawn ("Cactus Flower") with Alliance Atlantis' Peter Sussman and Ed Gernon ("Life with Judy Garland: Me & My Shadows," "Joan of Arc," "Nuremberg"), and directed by Roger Spottiswoode ("And the Band Played On…"). "The Matthew Shepard Story" concerns the true-life story of a young Laramie, Wyoming man who was murdered for being gay, and how his parents found the courage to forgive his attackers and end the cycle of hate. Production begins this spring for telecast in the Fall of 2001.

Oh! Favorite Julia comment: "This is quite pretty," referring to the Oscar. If she weren't so articulate, you'd have thought she was retarded.

Another funny quote: "Ellen did something not many actresses are willing to do: She made herself look 30 pounds heavier...and Russell Crowe still hit on her."

And I loved the wisecrack about movie ticket prices in NYC rising to $10 - thanks to Julie Roberts. The look on her face was priceless.

Just wrote an Oscars story for work, so I'm reliving the glory.

How much do I adore Julia Roberts? She actually squealed. But I think my favorite moment was the ridiculous choir singing "Love Don't Cost a Thing" as J.Lo walked on stage. My eyes bugged out.

More gold from ironminds.com: "Which, in a roundabout fashion, is how I explain why Spears’ 'Oops ... I Did It Again' made my Top Ten singles last year and why the Dave Matthews Band ain’t ever gonna make any list of mine. Ever."

The benefits (?) of online media: instant email feedback. One editor faces almost daily reminders of his "ineptitude" by a disgruntled reader (I've gotten a few insane reader-feedback emails as well, my favorite coming from a man in Singapore who thought that since I wrote a story with a gay theme, I should be reminded that 'the gay' like the 'arsehole' and I'm an evil man going to hell because of my writing - and my editor must be a 'dyke' for letting me write such blasphemous pieces).

My favorite diss (from ironminds):

Leitch, you turd:
The most difficult thing about telling you how painfully bad you are in the discharge of your duties is that I am effectively barred the use of superlatives. I could tell you on Monday that your latest update is without fail the worst few hundred words I’ve ever had to suffer through, but you would most likely succeed Monday’s low water-mark by week’s end.

Via mediabistro.com, one of my new favorite websites.

Treat her right, treat your mother right.

Madonna's just feeling the pressure.

Hee hee.

I went to lunch with Candice and two account managers to Makeda's, an Ethiopian restaurant.

I ate Ethiopian food.

Can we talk about this?

Huh?!

I don't understand why you don't understand me.

Caffiene just sucks!

The saddest thing about omnipresent school violence is that it's become almost normal and uninteresting. It's like moving to New York City, where sooner or later the siren don't cause you to turn your head and look anymore.

As an aside, did you know violence in schools has actually gone down in recent years?

I don't understand people who swear off soda with caffiene because they claim it will make them feel "wired." Hello, the 23 grams of sugar will probably have the same effect.

Recently I discovered the joys of Diet 7Up. I do believe that Diet 7Up is perhaps the least offensive diet pop I've ever tasted. Of course it's not quite perfect, but it is a) without caffiene b) doesn't taste like crap, like diet Coke, Dr. Pepper and others. Unfortunately, earlier today I grabbed a can of diet Mountain Dew by mistake. I will not drink it.

What do you call nailing your midterm in Media Law and Responsibility and getting an A on a Spanish paper about neoclasicism and romanticism in the poetry of Bécquer, an essay by Jovellanos calling for education reform in the 18th century and a novel by Moratín about gender roles?

Monday.

Picture it:

A Rutgers bus passes a George Street stop because no one wants to get off there and no one waiting there waives. A young man with a bike sees the bus go by, looks extremely ticked off, and mouths, "Fuck you!" at the bus driver. The driver, a black women with a lot of sass, says, "Excuse me. I didn't know you wanted to get on, so F you, too!" Then she lets out a seriously sinister, evil cackle, "Ha. Ha. Ha. Hahahahaha." At the next light the rider catches up and screams at the bus as the driver continues laughing. He gives her the finger as the bus departs. As your faithful reporter stands up to get off at the next stop (careful to say thank you to the crazy woman), the driver says, "Look, and here he comes." The bicyclist storms down George Street, passing the bus and cutting in front of it as the bus merges back onto the road. The man, trying to be cute, rides slowly in front of the bus, making it impossible for the bus to pass him ... until the insane driver gets way too close, honks the loud horn for at least 30 seconds straight and he finally gives way.

And my thought during this whole ordeal was: Dude, you have a bike and the Douglass campus is a half mile away, tops. Just move the fuck on.

This morning on my way to work I saw a guy on the Bay Bridge riding a motorcycle wearing sweatpants. Is that smart?

By Me.[Don't steal]

Take a British TV series that drummed up impressive ratings, add a young, beautiful cast, throw in some steamy sex scenes and you have a recipe for success sure to attract the major networks, right?

Wrong, if the show centers around a group of sexualized gays and lesbians.

Despite the controversial subject, Showtime’s decision to Americanize the original “Queer As Folk” has proved golden as the debut episode drew in the best rating for a Showtime series premiere in three years.

With 1.2 million to 1.6 million viewers each week- making it the most watched series on Showtime – the network wasted no time ordering an additional 20 episodes for next year, when “Queer As Folk” will join the returning Latino-themed show “Resurrection Blvd” and the African-American drama “Soul Food.”

The future of “Queer As Folk” is top secret, but Peter Paige, who plays Emmett, said viewers could see characters of color next season.

The show, which has no minority or transgendered characters, is trying to represent as many facets of the diverse gay community as possible, said Daniel Lipman, co-creator and writer.

“We’re just one show,” he said. “There’s a lot of responsibility, but we just try to do the best we can.”

For Showtime executives, “Queer As Folk’s” best is enough. Developing television’s most homocentric show was an easy decision, Stephanie Gibbons, vice president of advertising at Showtime, said at a panel discussion with the cast and creators of “Queer As Folk” at this weekend’s Gay and Lesbian Business Expo in New York City.

“Simply, this is a show whose time has come,” she said.

Showtime went all out in its advertising campaign, taking the gay-themed show past traditional gay media and into mainstream publications.

The $10 million campaign permeated the United States during the six months leading up to the series’ December debut.

Showtime bombarded potential viewers with direct-mail brochures, promotional items and a Web site. The network drew coverage from media outlets ranging from Time Magazine to TV Guide.

Prime Access, a New York City-based ad agency that coordinated the campaign, also generated interest by making “Queer As Folk” a presence at community events such as the Millennium March.

Gibbons said she also relied on one of the gay community’s most powerful advertising tools: word of mouth.

After letting the buzz from the British series pervade the gay community, Gibbons used ads and articles “to say that there’s going to be something huge coming out for the gay audience, so get ready. Just the phrase ‘Queer As Folk’ is very powerful.”

The cast began a long series of interviews about three weeks before the debut, “putting a face to the hype,” Gibbons said.

Popular and critically acclaimed series such as “Ellen,” “Will & Grace” and “Buffy The Vampire Slayer” brought gay characters to the screen, but “Queer As Folk” is taking them a step further, co-creator and writer Daniel Lipman said.

The show, which HBO courted as a film project, is the first American television series to present gay and lesbian characters as sexual beings and as flawed individuals, said Stuart Elliott, a columnist for the New York Times who moderated the discussion.

“It’s important for us to see our lives sexualized,” said Ron Cowen, the show’s co-creator and writer. “Male sex is a joyful thing we can talk about, not a shameful thing.”

Hollywood doesn’t share that belief, though. Rounding up the cast, which features Emmy-winner Sharon Gless of “Cagney and Lacey” fame, and “Talk Soup” alumnus Hal Sparks, was a long, frustrating task, Lipman said.

“We got everyone we wanted, all the first choices, but it was very hard getting major agencies in Los Angeles to send out clients,” he said. “The three biggest agencies sent one actor.”

Hollywood remains fearful of the “Is he or isn’t he?” rumor mill, but the cast of “Queer As Folk” is more concerned with show’s universal themes than the sexuality of their characters or their fellow cast members, said Paige.

“[Sexuality] hasn’t really ever come up in any way,” he said. “As a gay actor, I’ve played straight roles and I intend to again.”

Casting Debbie, the mother of Sparks’ character, Michael, was particularly difficult, Lipman said.

But for Gless, whose role in the 1980s police drama “Cagney and Lacey” broke barriers for women, deciding to take the part was easy, she said. “I thought, ‘I smell trouble and I love trouble,’ ”

To the surprise of the cast and network executives, the show has received minimal backlash, although not everyone has warmed up to “Queer As Folk.”

“I’m sure there are many people who feel outraged about it, but great television promotes controversy and dialogue,” Gibbons said.

The coming-out process of Justin, a 17-year-old new to Pittsburgh’s gay scene, has helped teens and their families understand the difficulties of coming out, said Randy Harrison, who plays Justin.

“I’ve gotten a lot of great reaction from gay teenagers,” he said. “I definitely believe seeing Justin on TV … is helpful.”

Michelle Clunie, who plays Melanie, a lesbian whose partner gave birth to a baby during the first episode, said she has received many letters thanking the show for its depiction of a lesbian family.

“We received a letter from a fan and a picture of her 9-year-old kid. She said, ‘Thanks for making the world a little bit better for our son’s life,’ ” Clunie said. “That makes everything so worth it.”

Check out some of the *really* low quality photos I took at the "Queer As Folk" panel discussion with NY Times writer Stuart Elliott. I totally forgot to bust the resolution up to the highest setting.

(There's also a bonus photo of a coworker doing the unthinkable!)

Ever wonder what breakfast at your typical Tokyo household is like? Well, this won't help you out, but it is hysterically funny for the first few minutes - as long as you're not totally P.C.

You know, I have a really busy week at work ahead of me, a media law midterm Tuesday, a Spanish midterm Thursday and a term paper to writer this week - and I'm about to embark upon this very-unlike-me journey, which is scary and exciting all at once - but I don't feel stressed. I just feel really happy.

[Thank you...and I think so, too.]

"The best aspect of the Aries-Aries relationship is the dynamic and spontaneous nature of the partnership. Neither partner will ever be bored! Their mutual energy and ability to make up after disagreements makes theirs a passionate and compatible relationship."

Isn't that nice? Yes, I think so.

"Phase Two" begins for the Starbucks Empire.

As evil is they are, I can't help craving a Chai Latte every once in a while.

Who decides that these things are good ideas? I mean, really, like the web community needs any more help being anti-social.

My birthday - or teejaymas, as I like to call it - is one month from today. Make a mental note, mark your calendars, program Outlook to remind you...

From the Candice files:

Another case of a man looking like a lesbian. There's some serious gender ambiguity with the person in the background of this photo on the College Board page

There is *a lot* going on right now involving changes and decisions and crazy, crazy ideas, but I can't write about any of them for a little while. Bits and pieces may come out, but I can't share the whole "plan" for a few weeks.

Isn't that special?

i love you

Having a great time...

Wish you were here...

Love TJ & Ben.

This week's Time Magazine has a hysterical satirical piece comparing the Clintons to everyone's favorite crime family, the Sopranos. The immediate family alone is uncannily similar: The boss, the scorned wife and the dutifal daughter. Unfortunately, the piece is not online.

Imagine driving down your local highway and spotting one of those ridiculous "adopt a highway" signs, but this one is sponsored by "your neighborhood Ku Klux Klan." For residents in the St. Louis area, it's a reality.

"The Klan requested a half-mile stretch of Interstate 55, one of the routes used to bus black students to county schools as part of court-ordered desegregation efforts in the St. Louis area."

There's something ridiculous ... about your posts.

There's nothing neat ... about feet.

There's nothing hot... about snot.

Nothing ever lives up to the hype.

The "Blizzard of '01" is another example, at least for everyone in Central Jersey. The whole thing is so typical - the university cancels classes on the day I have work and remains open the day I have four classes.

A lot of students were banking on a day off. Everything can be summed up by a line from an email I received this morning from Candice: "It's kind of funny how emad, rube and nancy were watching movies all carefree n' shit and now they have to go take their exams today."

My street is a sheet of ice, but the worst is yet to come. Kind of fun, in a freezing cold sort of way.

I've been visiting halo33 and 2xy.org daily for a few weeks now. Probably because Eddie and Jerwin sent the best V-Day cards... (Thanks to everyone who sent cards, by the way. Except, I never got one from Tim! Mail...)

It's coming...

I didn't realize how bad this latest snowstorm was supposed to be until I was driving around yesterday and heard a meteorologist throw around the word "blizzard." Then I saw a newspaper article using the term "worst storm since 1962." Not cool.

As I was walking back from a brunch date with Priti this morning, the wind was whipping up around me, trash flying around. I got a message from Barbara saying the office probably would close tomorrow, so she wanted to talk about some work the edit team could do at home.

I don't mind snow, really. But it's March. So, I'll put it with it and, in return, I only ask for two things: that the University closes Tuesday and that I don't lose power. The last thing I need is to have to sit around in the dark with no TV or Internet. I'm a child of the 80s for God's sake. I don't do well without the idiot boxes.

My Adv. Reporting class was one of three lucky enough to hit down with Pultizer Prize winner Laurie Garrett for a discussion about AIDS and a journalist's responsibility to cover the issue. I realized a few minutes into it that it would make a great story for one of our sites at work, so i took down some notes. Here's what I came up with:

Increased access to AIDS drug cocktails, additional funding for research, and decreasing infection rates among certain populations have created a false sense of safety, but the current state of the disease calls for urgent action, according to Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Laurie Garrett.

"We are facing the largest catastrophic epidemic in the history of humanity," Garrett said today during a discussion at Rutgers University in New Brunswick, N.J. "Who's in charge? Nobody. Who's got a plan? Nobody."

By the end of 2000, 36.1 million men, women and children were infected with HIV and 21.8 million had died from AIDS-related illnesses, according to the Joint United Nations Programme on HIV/AIDS (UNAIDS). The same year saw more than 5 million new infections and 3 million deaths, a record number.

In 14 countries, more than 10 percent of adults have the virus. In eight countries, one in every three adults has HIV, said Garrett, who has reported on AIDS since 1981.

In the United States, one in 10 gay or bisexual men ages 23 to 29 have HIV, according to a Centers for Disease Control and Prevention study of more than 2,400 gay and bisexual men in six U.S. cities.

The study, released last month, found that gay and bisexual minorities face higher infection rates, with 30 percent of African Americans and 15 percent of Latinos infected. About 7 percent of gay and bisexual white men had HIV.

In addition, only 29 percent of the 293 HIV-positive men in the study knew they were infected.

Policy makers are just beginning to realize that the “lack of strategic approach [to fighting AIDS] is shameful, embarrassing and there’s a sense of urgency,” Garrett said.

AIDS was potentially containable in the early 1980s, but the global governmental denial and lack of financial support made way for the disease to reach ever-increasing pandemic proportions, she said.

Garrett, who studied bacteriology and immunology at the University of California at Berkeley, estimates that even if researchers find a vaccine for HIV in 10 years - an unlikely occurrence - the world-wide infection rate will reach at least 150 million. A cure is even less likely, she said.

The virus hides in DNA, making it difficult and dangerous to manipulate it. "This is the first time we've tried to tackle a disease that does that," Garrett said.

Part of the blame for the growth of the virus falls on the government, Garrett said. Africa, where countries such as Botswana have a 36 percent infection rate among adults, has not received nearly as much international response as North-American or European AIDS cases, she said.

"If one in every three white French walking around Paris had AIDS, you bet the reaction would be different," she said.

Expensive drug cocktails - which can cost about $20,000 a year – can help, especially is people in third-world countries can obtain it at decreased costs, but there are dangerous side effects, Garrett said.

Fat redistribution cause women's breasts to shrink down while their stomachs enlarge. Men find themselves with a ring of fat around their waist just as their legs and arms become skinny, Garrett said.

The most detrimental effect, though, is the false sense of safety the medication creates in patients and in anyone who is sexually active, she said.

Garrett is the only journalist to win the field’s top three prizes. She took home the Pulitzer Prize for her coverage of the Ebola virus, the George Polk Award for her general health coverage in Newsday, and the George Foster Peabody Award for her PBS documentary, "Great Minds of Medicine."

(I adored her. She's really great. She also likened the creation of crack to a marketing campaign to increase profits in the inner city - whose residents couldn't afford powder cocaine - and she talked about how AIDS has become a billion-ollar industry. Think about it. There are people whose whole careers are based upon the existence of AIDS.)

Timmy?

Yeah, Easter also = TJ's 21st birthday.

That's right folks, I'll be legally hitting the bars for the first time on one of our most sacred holidays.

"Another round! To Jesus!"

"Teejaymas" - the name I created for my birthday last year - takes on a whole new meaning.

I just finished my essay for the Cap and Skull Honor Society - a Rutgers College tradition created in 1900 and modeled after the group at Yale. Being a part of a group with members such as Paul Robeson is intense. The essay question was general - about what contributions I could make, but I found it surprisingly essay to finish...

*****
My last story for DiversityInc.com was about a diversity-training and consulting company that urges corporate America to open its eyes to the non-traditional forms of diversity within its employees. They say that by looking beyond race, gender and sexual orientation and, instead, thinking about diversity of thought and experience, companies can foster greater productivity, creativity and profitability. A lot of their ideas and "ities" relate solely to the business world, but I was amazed by the universality of many of their concepts.

Rutgers is a deeply segmented university where many students feel excluded from groups more than included in a campus-wide community. From the five different campuses to the countless cultural organizations, the segregation is omnipresent. The trick, in my opinion, is minimizing the negative consequences of this situation while maximizing the benefits of the diversity.

Cap & Skull prides itself on uniting leaders with diverse opinions in order to improve the Rutgers experience for all students. While I could list achievements and rack my brain trying to come up with spectacular reasons why I should be a part of the 100-year tradition, I think the most important reason is the most obvious: I am simply me. I’m a 20-year-old Rutgers College junior who’s interacted with a lot of students from different backgrounds and has concrete opinions about why Rutgers is a great university and why groups such as Cap & Skull must do more to improve it.

At the school’s newspaper I had the unique opportunity to try to reach out to more than 40,000 students with my words. As an editor I was a liaison between the editorial board and the community. I spoke to student leaders from different campuses, interacted with administrators such as the seemingly student-phobic Francis Lawrence and, most importantly, observed people from various walks of life. So many Rutgers students shut themselves off to other campuses and groups of people. The word apathy is overused, but it has become a buzzword for a legitimate reason. I can look back and say I’ve risen above some of that.

Nevertheless, I have regrets. But that’s not an overwhelmingly bad thing because I think our regrets become our biggest motivators. As I stress and grow increasingly anxious about entering my last year at Rutgers, I see how many of my goals remain unfulfilled. Looking back on my year as campus editor, I feel like my primary focus should have been to serve as the eyes and ears of the community for the paper. Unfortunately, I let myself succumb to the Targum trap, remaining in the office writing news stories and relying on the phone for most of my communication with student leaders. My visits to the governing associations and campus events seemed like chores at times, especially when my head was flooded with thoughts of deadlines and pending stories, but those trips were the most rewarding part of my term. Even though they were less frequent than I would have liked, they were educational – informing me about my fellow students, whose ideas and desires were often very different than my own.

As a member of Cap & Skull, my greatest attributes would be simple ones: a unique perspective and a desire to make my last year on the banks as fulfilling and productive as possible. A group of 18 students who are passionate about celebrating the history of this institution while changing its future in a positive way is a powerful concept. As cliched as it sounds, I just hope I can be a part of that.