Dear Rosie...

Senior year of college, all anyone wants to talk about are my plans for the future. This is something I don't like to discuss. Partly because I feel like it's MY plan, not yours, and partly because I just want to let life take me where it will, no plan necessary.

I keep in touch with a lot of my teachers from high school. I know, "how lame", "teacher's pet". Try teacher's son. Suck on that for a bit.


















Recently, one of my teachers finally retired, and in a series of emails, I became unusually affected and inspired by what she had to say. She explained that now, at about 65 years old, she feels like a kid who is figuring out what she wants to be when she grows up. What a fantastic notion!

She tries new things, decides if it's right for her, and moves on if it's not. What a philosophy.

I thought to myself: if it's ok for a 65 year old woman to be first discovering herself now, learning about her strengths, weaknesses, likes and dislikes, then it's ok for me to NOT be ready to plan out the next stage of my life right this very moment. Who needs that kind of pressure?

What would I like to be when I grow up? Ask me in 40 years.

With that in mind, I feel extremely confidant in the ways in which I spend my time.














Last week, a few friends and I signed up for a Gingerbread House building contest. None of us had ever built one before.














We started out kind of sloppy, but soon we got the hang of it. After a while though, we saw that the teams around us were building very intricate, elaborate houses in the shapes of famous buildings in Boston and around the world. So we decided to spruce ours up the only way we knew how:














We made it into a brothel! A Gingerbread Brothel. For the record, the characters having a finger-cuff 3-way in the front there, are Hansel, Gretel, and that mean old Witch.

We were all really proud of our creation. Sex sells, after all. And it didn't matter that we lost in every category. It was a good learning experience. Way to go team!














When I'm not constructing XXX confectionery, I hang out with the people I love, and sometimes do schoolwork as well.



























You know, it's not all fun and games. I don't want this to sound like I do nothing productive. But who takes pictures of themselves being productive? It's just about a healthy balance of fun I think.

Last week, things got kind of crazy at the Fusion party, but what better way to celebrate Kristopher's send-off? He's going to Sydney next semester. I'll miss him.


















And this weekend while celebrating Erika's birthday, Mike showed us some crack, and Erika showed me some lip.

























So while all of this reaffirmed for me that growing up is not yet required, recent news stories have made it quite clear that SOME people need to. And FAST!

Last week on The View, Rosie O'Donnell made fun of Chinese people by mimicking their language the way 7 year old kids from Iowa might. There was a lot of "chings" and "chongs" and it was just disgusting and insulting.

And while part of me wants to listen to Rosie, let it slide, and pass it off as "just joking", other recent Rosie related craziness has made it clear that she needs to grow up.










Dear Rosie,

What happened? You used to be semi respectable. You said you were a lesbian a long time ago, and most of the country STILL watched your show. You were winning people over to our side on the whole gay thing. Right on! But now you make EVERYTHING a gay issue, and guess what! It's NOT.

Accusing Kelly Rippa of being homophobic for telling Clay Aiken to get his hand off her mouth is ridiculous. Clay Aiken is disgusting! I wouldn't let him put his hand over my mouth either! Let alone look at me. And now you're making fun of Chinese people?? WHAT THE F!

You're acting like a HUGE (wink) hypocrite by accusing people of being homophobic who AREN'T and then making fun of another marginalized group of Americans, and just passing it off as a harmless joke.


Take a bit of your own advice (from A League of Their Own ):

Start using your head. That's that lump 3 feet above your ass.


I may have a while before I need to grow up, but you should have a long time ago.

Peace OUT!

-evan

Does This Make Me Gay?

Hello everyone. Sorry for the long overdue update. Thanksgiving happened, and then school work happened. My identity was stolen like Sandra Bullock in "The Net", I sailed around the world in a hot air balloon with Prince, and I won a People's Choice Award. Life gets in the way sometimes...you know?

Anyway, I'll start with Thanksgiving. I had a great break. I brough Justin and Yo home for "The Silverbergs Present: A Very Asian Thanksgiving 2006!" Justin lives in Chicago and Yo, from Japan, usually goes with him. But they couldn't find a flight, so they took refuge at my house for the week.














We spent the week doing all the things good Jews do over Thanksgiving. Like eat pork. Oh wait, no that's on Fridays over Lent. Wow Jews really DO have it easy! We went shopping, to the movies, Wawa, NYC, but mostly we ate. We ate thin-crust pizza on the Jersey Shore, we got dessert at the Ink Well at 3 am, we got burritos at Chipotle, breakfast at the diner, TURKEY at my cousin's. We Just Kept Eating.














Back in Boston, it's been very busy with the end of the year. Patricia's semester long run of rehearsals came to a boil as "CLOSER" premiered, and she and it were perfect.














The BU/BC hockey double header weekend went off ALMOST without a hitch. Thanks to Al Gore, the temperature has been mighty high these last few days. So at the Friday night game at BC, the game was called due to too much fog over the ice. The next day at BU, we lost. But I still went down to BC to celebrate.














ANYWAY. I was hanging out with my friend Eddie today and he told me that this weekend, before he had the "most mind blowing 3 way of his life" (when you're on ecstasy, doesn't everything blow your mind?) he made out with his male friend Harley at a club.

"Does that make me gay, Ev?"

He said that, higher than life itself, he and his rowdy gang went to a club downtown, and in a musical explosion of free love, lesbians, and drugs, his female friend urged him to kiss this other guy. So he did.

"It wasn't that bad, like I didn't feel disgusting or like I was different. And like, homophobic guys say it makes me gay but I don't think it's that big of a deal. I couldn't get used to the stubble though. That weirded me out."

I told Eddie that he shouldn't worry. Kissing a guy once doesn't make you gay. But do it more often and we might have a problem. A gay problem.














But then I got to thinking. Do people really think about this stuff all the time? Like that scene in "The 40 Year Old Virgin" where they keep going back and forth saying "You know how I know YOU'RE gay???"

This weekend I went to a Ken + Barbie party. Does that make ME gay?


















I dressed up as Country Club Ken, and Kris went as Malibu Ken. And we met up with a bunch of barbies. They were drunk college girls who didn't know up from down anymore. And we didn't take advantage of them. Does that make us gay?














What about ham sandwiches. Are those gay too? Why is everyone so concerned about what makes them gay? I would be much more concerned about looking too straight. At a different party, a drunk frat-boy type named Claudio introduced himself to Kris and told him that his "goal" (in life) was to "ejaculate on an MIT girl's face...one of the brightest minds in the world." Is that what straight people do?

I don't know about you, but I think we should be less concerned about looking gay, and more concerned about looking like giant douche bags named Claudio.

Peace OUT, stubbly kissers.

-Ev

Are We All Just Shaving Face?

In recent weeks, I've gotten disturbing insight into how people view their physical appearance in the face of others....but more on that later....

Anyway. It's been a very busy week. Birthdays, parents, dancing, schoolwork? So much to do, and so much time to waste in between it all. Seriously.

Last weekend the parents and I made a trip to the Sam Adams brewery.














Earlier this year in Ireland, we got a glimpse of the amazing Guinness Storehouse, 7 floors of Irish and beer history, packed into an amazing interactive tour. In Dublin, you got the feeling that people were really interested in the heritage of Guinness.

Here in Boston, it goes without saying that everyone is just interested in the free beer at the end of the tour, which is why it lasts for 30 minutes and requires minimal walking and brain activity between the 2 rooms. In the gift shop, I bought a tin Sam Adams pale which will come in handy in about 2 paragraphs. And just so we're ALL clear, Sam Adams had about as much to with making the beer as Tom Cruise had to do with making Baby Suri....absolutely nothing.














On Sunday, we celebrated Trisha's 21st birthday. Like, Oh My God. Turning 21 is getting sooooo old....can't people turn something else for a change? Jusssst playing. Happy Birthday TriCIA :)














We had a small soirée upstairs, Kevin baked a ginormous 2-layer cake, WITH LIT CANDLES (take THAT dorm rules), and then it was off to the White Horse for her first legal shots.














She's a trooper, I'll tell you. After a dozen or so shots and a handful of mixed drinks, we carried her home where she threw up in my Sam Adams bucket. Looks like you were right, mom, it is a "barf bucket" after all! Clever.














A few weeks ago, my friend Julie entered me in a contest her sorority was running in conjunction with Neutrogena Men shaving products. The idea of the promotion was to "uncover campus hotties" who hide behind their 5 o'clock shadows, and then with the help of the Neutrogena products, show off their baby-faced potential.

The process involved a campus-wide vote, based on a 5 point rating system. In the end, the winners would get a free shave at a Neutrogena clinic, free stuff, cyberspace recognition and loads and loads of babes (the last one, of course, I was most interested in).

Now, I don't get involved in Greek activities here at BU, it's not my scene. And I also have never really cared about my physical appearance in comparison to someone else's. Isn't that the root of all self-esteem issues among young people in the first place? Eating disorders, unnecessary plastic surgery, MTV sluts, HELLO!

But when the opportunity came to compete in a battle royale popularity/hottie contest against frat boys living the big fat Greek life, obviously I went on an all out PR campaign to WIN THAT SHIT!
















So I had to wonder: When it comes to looking good, are we all just shaving face?



Unfortunately, we are. Stuff like this doesn't really matter in the long run, but it was a lot of fun pretending to be in the big leagues for a few weeks. People I hadn't spoken to since Freshman Year stopped to tell me they voted for me, and I ate it up. Loved every second of it. So THANK YOU to everyone who voted.

As I signed in to the Official Hottie Winner's Ball (that's not what they called it, that's all me) I was asked to fill out an insurance waiver, just in case one of the barbers slipped up and sliced my throat open. "SURE!"














If you look closely at the waiver you can actually see the phrase "including death" on the list of things they are not responsible for.














I got the whole treatment. Mike did an excellent job, no nicks. Nick was there too though. So, that's ironic. I also had a small cheering section consisting of Lauren K and Eddie from my CM 514 class, and Vanessa who couldn't stop laughing at me.



























And in the end? Smooth as a baby's ass. Not that I'd know what a baby's ass felt like. These guys might though. One of them went to my high school. NICE!














Peace OUT, Undercover Hotties. Have a fantastic Thanksgiving, see you when we all get back.

-evan

Deal? or no Deal?

A few nights ago I found myself watching "Deal or No Deal", the hit game show hosted by that wacky germaphobe, Howie Mandel.













As I got more and more frustrated with the bimbo on stage (who ended up "winning" $247,000 for having absolutely no skill at ALL), yelling, kicking, and getting generally steamed, I got to thinking about what I would do if I was on "Deal or no Deal".

But then I realized: "Deal or no Deal" is a game that requires no thought or skill. It's just a matter of making the decision to stay put, or to keep going. Hmm, there's an original concept...I'm pretty sure we play that game several times a day. It's called the game of life, and I'm here to explain it to you.

Friday night I went to The Avenue to meet some friends from Freshman year for a few drinks. Turns out that this bar features $1 Bud drafts all night. "You want me to get the next round?" Hmmm....DEAL! That one was easy. Cheap beer = Deal. That's a no brainer.














After The Avenue, I went down to the Northeastern area to meet up with some friends from Dublin. I hadn't seen Pete or Mo in a while, so when I got the invite, I was there in a second. Here comes pointer # 2: Reminiscing with friends you don't see often = Deal! Sometimes, you need to bust out of your comfort shell. For me, it's BU. Occasionally, we all need a change of city-scape (even if it's within the same city).




























At a different club later that night, a 30-ish year old guy was being a creeper and tried to hit on me with the line, "How come I've never seen you here before?" That's a NO DEAL. That line means the person is probably there upwards of 3 times a week. Lame. No thanks.

Saturday, I met up with Maura to go to the annual Fusion show, the hip-hop show that Tim and Kris are all in. It was amazing, and the whole audience got guest-listed at this club for the after party. DEAL! Are you starting to get the hang of it? It's not difficult.




























And just a few days ago, my internship from the summer offered me an opportunity to write a weekly blog for a new music website, VoteTheMusic.com. "Cake or Death?......mmmmm cake please." Of course, I made the deal. And now I get to pretend to sound like an idiot for a lot more people than the 6 of you who are reading this. You can check it out here: http://blog.votethemusic.com

Deal...no deal....what's the point? Have a good time, but don't go home with creepers. Follow that rule, and you should be SET! As for Howie and the girls with the briefcases? Well, I'll let them keep playing with the minds of confused mid-westerners.

It's been a good week. Parents are coming to visit this weekend. Insanity to follow.

Peace out!

-evan

Did Jesus Trick-or-Treat?

This Halloween, I thought it was important to remember the reason we celebrate this holy-day in the first place: Jesus Christ.

What a guy, right? We all know the story. All he wanted to do as a kid was go trick-or-treating with his friends, dressed as his favorite old testament character, but of course his "friend" Judas showed up wearing the same costume: Moses. The beard, the robe, the whole bit. When Jesus confronted him about it at Gethsemane playground, Judas strung him up on the tether ball pole and gave him a wedgie. What a jerk!

And that's why we celebrate Halloween. I think. So, on a day where we dress up like characters from both the real and fictional past, people we admire, revere, and completely idolize, I whipped up a little costume in tribute to the man himself: JC


















You would not BELIEVE the reactions I got from some people. While I went around giving out Nilla wafers, and drinking wine I had just made out of a bottle of Poland Spring, some people had some very not nice things to say to me.

"You just want people to say 'Oh My God' and you'll say 'WHAT!', like they were talking to you." Disgusting. That could not be further from the truth. I couldn't even think of that by myself.

"Blasphemy!" They cried.

"Blasphe-YOU!" I replied. "Don't make me tell my dad!"

Then there were the people who were too ashamed of me to even acknowledge me. Karen invited me to a costume party at the bakery she works at, but said I could not come dressed as Jesus because it was insulting. To whom? I told her I would show up and proclaim to everyone that I was there with Karen and she was my best friend.

"I'll deny I know you," she replied.

DE-NIED! Just like Jesus by Peter the Apostle. I always knew Karen was bad news.

It wasn't all bad though. At parties, everyone wanted a picture with the big guy. Banana....



















Aphrodite...















Hugh Hefner....















80s Aerobics Instructors...















Rainbow Witch (she asked for a blessing. Who am I to say no)...















And even the Incredible Hulk...





























Overall, I would say this has been one hell of a Halloween. I really let it sink in, you know, what this holiday means to me. And I discovered that, in the end, it means absolutely nothing except horror and chocolate. Like Easter. So get out there today, beg for candy, and remember the man who made it all possible.

Next year I might go as something a little more fun, because I'll tell ya that crown of thorns was not comfortable at ALL.















Maybe. We'll see.

Happy Halloween Everyone!

PS! VERY IMPORTANT! (not at all). My friend Julie submitted me for this silly Neutrogena promotion for men's shaving products. And now I want to win. So please go to www.shavehisface.com, select Boston University, and type in photo # 1206 and rate me a 5!!!!!!!!!!

-ev

Breaking News: Scissor Sisters are...MEN???

It has recently come to my attention that music fans everywhere have been lied to for the past few years as to the identities of the members of the band, Scissor Sisters. After seeing them in concert tonight, I can tell you with 100% positivity:

They aren't sisters at all, but a sextuplet of gender bending entertainers, 5 male, 1 unknown.















With lyrics such as:

"I ain't got nothing but your seed on my face,
You'll put them babies to waste
Without your finger in the pie"

-and-

"Kiss you off my lips
I don't need another tube of that dime-store lipstick
Well I think I'm gonna buy me a brand new shade of man"

I was almost certain that only wicked, promiscuous females could come up with stuff like this, but I was delightfully mistaken. The head of the group, Jake Shears (get it??), provided the audience (including every 'mo in Boston) with a fun thrusting/stripping combination and an incredible vocal range. No joke, he's one of the most attention commanding front-men I have ever seen.















I was accompanied by my very good friend Maura, who was the perfect date. Maura and I rarely ever see each other outside of the gym (we met as kickboxing instructor/apprentice...and it's blossomed from there) or the computer lab, so it was nice to relax and spend a night out together not in sweatpants.















They are completely over the top, which I love. Totally camp. Costumes, bad jokes, the whole bit. The show was a throwback to Studio 54 and Elton John. And supposedly they are pro-Kylie, anti-Madonna. Whoa.















In other news, what a great weekend! It all started on Friday when Beth came up from Hartford. We spent the weekend talking about the great things that happen when we get together. Friday we hit up the Cheesecake Factory for Justin's Birthday, and after an enormous meal we all slipped into food comas right at the table. 3 months later, our waiter woke us up and we ordered dessert.















After a comedy show, a stroll through a pumpkin patch, late night tea in bed, and hours of confused looks from other people, I have decided that we should probably marry, since it doesn't look too promising for us otherwise.

After all, the sanctity of marriage has been corrupted and destroyed by Polygamists and Tom Cruise, so I think we should give it a go. Whataya say? You've heard of inter-faith, now try inter-preference! Nice.















Saturday night we went to a Halloween party 10 days too early....also known as simply a costume party. Beth and I were pirates, but we were a special division of pirates who only pillage cupcakes, as explained on our shirts. We're like the SVU of pirates.














At the party we met up with Kenny and Rachel who were partner-costumed as Britney and K-Fed. PS- add them to the list of people who have ruined marriage for the rest of the world.





























The weekend wrapped up with a birthday party. Nicholas finally turned 21, the last of our group to make the big switch. Happy Birthday, Nick!















And I'm almost 22...gross. Anyway, the party brought together a very special group of people. We have been lucky enough to grow up together for the last 7 or 8 years (some of us longer), and now that we are all finally legal, I look forward to the next step.















So, I'd like to toast to Jack Brown, who from what I hear, is a fact now!

Later