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See you there!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Jam of the Week: Sly and the Family Stone
This week's Jam is brought to you be Sly and his Family, the Stones. I'm obsessed with it, because it just makes we want to join a soul train or something. You know, I've always thought the saxophone was a dead sexy instrument.
When a sax goes off, someone is getting laid. It's a proven fact (note: I'm still looking for references to back me up).
The sax was also featured in the theme song to "My Two Dads." If you were lucky enough to have two older sisters who "made" you watch it, you know how good it was because of Greg Evigan (sorry, Paul Reiser). The sax is sexy...Greg is sexy....perfect combination. Below is a picture of him in all of his manly glory.
When a sax goes off, someone is getting laid. It's a proven fact (note: I'm still looking for references to back me up).
The sax was also featured in the theme song to "My Two Dads." If you were lucky enough to have two older sisters who "made" you watch it, you know how good it was because of Greg Evigan (sorry, Paul Reiser). The sax is sexy...Greg is sexy....perfect combination. Below is a picture of him in all of his manly glory.
Two words: Chest. Hair.
Looking like ought to be illegal.
When I hear this jam, I imagine Greg lighting some candles and serving me a plate of caviar and pouring a glass of chablis. On me. True, the jam is fast but that's how Greg moves, okay?
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
I should also add that there is a new way to get in contact with me (because I know you want to):
mrvestgetsschooled@gmail.com
I wanted to have it be mrvestgetsemail@gmail.com because that is devastatingly clever, but for the sake of continuity I stuck with the other one.
So please send your thoughts, ideas and the last place you saw Anderson Cooper so I can find him myself. If you're funny I'll give you your own post. How's that for an incentive?
mrvestgetsschooled@gmail.com
I wanted to have it be mrvestgetsemail@gmail.com because that is devastatingly clever, but for the sake of continuity I stuck with the other one.
So please send your thoughts, ideas and the last place you saw Anderson Cooper so I can find him myself. If you're funny I'll give you your own post. How's that for an incentive?
On Underdeveloped Undergraduates
I have a job on campus. I’m one of the lucky kids who received federal work study. Is it demanding? No. It is stressful? Sometimes when I get a paper cut. Is it “blog-a-ble?” Ah-yes!
My workplace deals with undergraduates, both current students and admissions candidates. Now, I’m not going to mention actual names of students I interact with or my co-workers (who are just fabulous), but there are some things that are very much worth mentioning.
Look, I can understand why people want to go to this school. For years it is pounded into their head that it is “the best” and being admitted here will lead to a life of glamour, intrigue, and those parties where tiny, tiny quiches are served.
Before arriving here, I too had some of those thoughts and how could you not (thankyouverymuch Elle Woods)? Though, as the months passed and I have interacted with a lot of people here, I can’t help but look at the undergraduates and think, “Are these really the best and brightest?” Allow we me to provide you with two examples:
1) A kid comes in with a letter and a piece of paper, comments that he needs to mail it. Blank stares because saying, “Then mail it, douche” isn’t a very kind thing to say. But here’s the thing: he didn’t know how to mail a letter. We had to instruct him how to do it. He was dumfounded with every step.
A few of you may be thinking, “How often to people send letters today anymore?” and to that I counter AAA, credit card companies, and friends who are shoving their marriages in your face (Congrats, by the way! Can’t wait!)
This kid had not a clue on how to address and stamp an envelope. After the mini-lesson was done, he just stood their, mouth agape.
“Now what?” he says.
“You mail the letter.”
“How?”
(face slap) “You put it in a mailbox.”
“A what?”
IamnotevenkiddingyoupeopleIswear.
2) Another winner enters with a form all students have to turn in to verify their status. On it, they have to include the ages of family members. His head is about to explode.
“I don’t know how old my family is.”
“Um…okay,” the front desk crew says trying hard not to ‘side-eye’ each like Michelle here:
My workplace deals with undergraduates, both current students and admissions candidates. Now, I’m not going to mention actual names of students I interact with or my co-workers (who are just fabulous), but there are some things that are very much worth mentioning.
Look, I can understand why people want to go to this school. For years it is pounded into their head that it is “the best” and being admitted here will lead to a life of glamour, intrigue, and those parties where tiny, tiny quiches are served.
Before arriving here, I too had some of those thoughts and how could you not (thankyouverymuch Elle Woods)? Though, as the months passed and I have interacted with a lot of people here, I can’t help but look at the undergraduates and think, “Are these really the best and brightest?” Allow we me to provide you with two examples:
1) A kid comes in with a letter and a piece of paper, comments that he needs to mail it. Blank stares because saying, “Then mail it, douche” isn’t a very kind thing to say. But here’s the thing: he didn’t know how to mail a letter. We had to instruct him how to do it. He was dumfounded with every step.
A few of you may be thinking, “How often to people send letters today anymore?” and to that I counter AAA, credit card companies, and friends who are shoving their marriages in your face (Congrats, by the way! Can’t wait!)
This kid had not a clue on how to address and stamp an envelope. After the mini-lesson was done, he just stood their, mouth agape.
“Now what?” he says.
“You mail the letter.”
“How?”
(face slap) “You put it in a mailbox.”
“A what?”
IamnotevenkiddingyoupeopleIswear.
2) Another winner enters with a form all students have to turn in to verify their status. On it, they have to include the ages of family members. His head is about to explode.
“I don’t know how old my family is.”
“Um…okay,” the front desk crew says trying hard not to ‘side-eye’ each like Michelle here:
“BUT,” he says, “I do know what year they were born in.”
“Ok,” one of us says and we go back to work.
“My dad was born in 1968. How old is that?”
Computer says, what?! Boy, come on. He just stared at me until I answered, “43.”
“Cool!” and he scribbles it down followed by this question: “How about 1995?”
I provided the ages to his family members, all the while quite surprised that I had to do this in the first place. Aren’t these kids supposed to be “running the country” someday, like every person on campus tells them from day one of matriculation?
Jennifer Connelly help us.
I guess what this amounts to is that these kids do incredibly well at one thing (like biology or literature or talking about themselves) so much so that all of the other subjects just kind of don’t get as...developed? Like me and monitoring when to say no to a fourth helping.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Jam(s) of the Week: Robyn
Like anybody with a pulse, I like to think I have pretty good taste in music. Beginning now, I'll put up a jam of the week to give you, fair readers, something to whistle to while you "work." I wouldn't categorize myself as a music snob at all (this is proven by the fact that I. Can't. Wait. for the new Britney Spears album). Simply put, I like anything that will fit into the daily dance parties I stage in my bedroom (with the curtains pulled, mind you...nobody needs to see that).
In deciding who to highlight first, only one name came to mind: Robyn.
Most of you are asking, "Who?" Chances are, if you aren't fashionable gay man and his gal pal, you probably don't know who she is. Robyn, see, broke into the mainstream with "Show Me Love" back in 1998.
Ding, ding...now you know who we are talking about. But this ain't no pop princess, see...she is so much more than that- and, frankly who Lady Gaga wishes she could be.
Last month, I went to her concert at the House of Blues Boston along with the entire gay population of Boston and the surrounding 'burbs. It was like a gay explosion. Truth be told, I've never seen a fan base like this and have neh-ver seen a performer knock it out of the ball park with each song. For serious, when the last few songs from her album dropped on YouTube, I practically wet myself. (too much?)
I could go on and on and on and on (and on) about her, so let's have the jams speak for themselves. I should note that I'm not aware of any other artist that will make you want to dance and sing along to songs about heartbreak, but bada-bing! she does it:
If you need something on the "lighter" side, here ya goooooo:
So, enjoy and embrace your inner dance hall queen.
In deciding who to highlight first, only one name came to mind: Robyn.
Most of you are asking, "Who?" Chances are, if you aren't fashionable gay man and his gal pal, you probably don't know who she is. Robyn, see, broke into the mainstream with "Show Me Love" back in 1998.
Ding, ding...now you know who we are talking about. But this ain't no pop princess, see...she is so much more than that- and, frankly who Lady Gaga wishes she could be.
Last month, I went to her concert at the House of Blues Boston along with the entire gay population of Boston and the surrounding 'burbs. It was like a gay explosion. Truth be told, I've never seen a fan base like this and have neh-ver seen a performer knock it out of the ball park with each song. For serious, when the last few songs from her album dropped on YouTube, I practically wet myself. (too much?)
I could go on and on and on and on (and on) about her, so let's have the jams speak for themselves. I should note that I'm not aware of any other artist that will make you want to dance and sing along to songs about heartbreak, but bada-bing! she does it:
If you need something on the "lighter" side, here ya goooooo:
So, enjoy and embrace your inner dance hall queen.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
On Fiber
As a youngin’, I thought fiber was just that “thing” old people ate because they couldn’t do their business and I was not an old person who ate food in order to do my business. That was just a nice surprise. I only knew of fiber because a grandmother at one time ordered me to eat prunes in order to “cleans myself.” I argued with her, stating that I take enough showers, thank you very much.
Like any self-respecting adolescent (HA), anything that remotely alluded to doing “my business” was off limits in discussion. I avoided anything that I knew had fiber in it for years. Instead, I just ate my weight in cheese. Repeatedly.
Recently, however, I’ve been on a bit of a health food and exercise kick (with the exception of frequent burritos). Now, this isn’t meant to change my life or fulfill me with newfound organic energy, blah blah blah.
I just want to look good without clothes on, okay? Fine. O-kay.
In all of these books whose covers have guys without their shirts on, I am told to up my fiber. Much to my chagrin, I began eating prunes, which, thanks to a traumatizing episode of “Rugrats,” I have always avoided. I don’t understand why people get all orgasmic over certain foods, because prunes are probably the least sexy and exotic of anything ever in the history of the world.
Mr. Vest can’t deal with something so unsexy, so I sought my fiber elsewhere. Almonds are sexy because you can look menacing while eating one. Say someone gives you lip and all you have to do is pop one in your mouth, crunch, and those scrubs will Let. You. Be. I often used this technique with my former students.
“Mr. Vest I don’t want to do this work right now!”
“Oh?” CRUNCH.
“Ok, Mr. Vest, I’ll do it,”
“That’s what I thought.” CRUNCH.
That second “crunch” was probably unneeded, but I wasmakingapointleavemealone.
Anygay, I’m upped my fiber and haven’t thought much of it. You know how you just follow instructions without even realizing why you are doing it in the first place? This was one of those cases.
Until I saw this commercial for some woman’s health bar that explained to me how fiber worked. OH! So you eat less but it fills you up more and then you get it out of your system! Advertising rocks! Fiber rocks! Six-pack abs, here I come!
Now, I don’t feel embarrassed when I buy the cereal with extra fiber. “Yes, cashier, I AM taking care of my body and I DO feel good. Do you have a handsome son that is looking for love?”
Friday, March 18, 2011
On Spring Break
Ah, Spring Break. This week has been crazy: massive house parties, streaking across a crowded beach, back massages galore, AND I got arrested and made "friends" with a butch guy named Stone.
ORRRRRRRRR I'm at my work study job. Answering phone calls. Typing on this stupid (editor's note: amazing) blog.
In college, I spent my breaks either spending way too much money in a foreign land in an attempt to feel cultured...or I did service trips. The service trips were actually the most fun. I mean, who knew West Virginia could be so joyous?! No one? Okay fine, moving on.
The concept of a "Spring Break" seems kind of silly now (for someone at the deathly age of 27). Even when I was 22, I felt like I just couldn't keep up with it anymore. I mean, do the kids have to play their music so loud?
As a teacher, it was the time of the year where I just needed to sleep and recollect. This year, I find myself formatting resumes and getting increasingly nervous about finding a job after graduation. PARTY!
Though, the weather is creeping up to almost 70 degrees today in good 'ol Cambridge. I love it when the weather gets marginally high in this city, because people freak the F out. Nobody is wearing clothes right now. I put on my sandals this morning and felt completely on top of the world.
My feet are bare and I can accomplish anything as long as I put my mind on it. I mean, who needs body shots?
ORRRRRRRRR I'm at my work study job. Answering phone calls. Typing on this stupid (editor's note: amazing) blog.
In college, I spent my breaks either spending way too much money in a foreign land in an attempt to feel cultured...or I did service trips. The service trips were actually the most fun. I mean, who knew West Virginia could be so joyous?! No one? Okay fine, moving on.
The concept of a "Spring Break" seems kind of silly now (for someone at the deathly age of 27). Even when I was 22, I felt like I just couldn't keep up with it anymore. I mean, do the kids have to play their music so loud?
As a teacher, it was the time of the year where I just needed to sleep and recollect. This year, I find myself formatting resumes and getting increasingly nervous about finding a job after graduation. PARTY!
Though, the weather is creeping up to almost 70 degrees today in good 'ol Cambridge. I love it when the weather gets marginally high in this city, because people freak the F out. Nobody is wearing clothes right now. I put on my sandals this morning and felt completely on top of the world.
My feet are bare and I can accomplish anything as long as I put my mind on it. I mean, who needs body shots?
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