Ahhh…. college

Oh, so that's liquid nitrogen pouring on me, then?

Certain events this week have me thinking about college.  And, don’t worry, this is a personal post but nothing sad or depressing.  I am not sure how interesting this will be to anyone who wasn’t there but I hope it makes you laugh, Ali.

The various pictures are all from the site: www.stonytbrooksucks.com and are undoctored photos from around campus.

I was back at Stony Brook for homecoming last fall — which was my first Stony Brook homecoming ever, I didn’t even go when I went there.  A lot has changed.  The bridge to nowhere is gone, which makes me sad.

First up:  Dumb things Stony Brook did.

Stony Brook University is supposed to be known as one of the best SUNY schools and have excellent science and engineering departments.  Yet the following statements are all true:

  1. The hugely expensive sports complex cannot be used, as promised, for sports events like track because the track is six inches too short. 

    Attack of the crasher squirrel!

    (Similarly, the pool, also built for outside events, was built backwards.)

  2. For years they had a ‘bridge to nowhere’ that was supposed to connect the library to the student union, one is across the street from the other but it failed to do so.
  3. One university president, in his desire to make the school more like USC, wanted a bell tower with a clock to chime throughout the day but the school had no money so he played a recording of chimes, complete with static, on the hour, each hour.  Stay classy, Stony Brook.
  4. Although hurricane season occurs every year at the same time, major roof repairs were done to many of the dorms in August.  Yes, one struck Long Island and yes, those dorms flooded.
  5. Two quads were listed as “G” and “H” on diagrams for the school during its construction, not being clever enough to think of real names, they stayed that way for more than 30 years.
  6. People always get lost in the library because when they wanted to expand it, they just build a new one around the old one.
  7. When I was in the student government, I was on a panel to improve the quality of our food.  We were asked to discuss our most memorable experience with the food (seriously, not “what was your best food?” but what has your most “memorable experience with the food” — well, that time we…).  Mine was when they offered us veal patties.  Being curious about how a state school was serving veal, something which I have not eaten since I was 10, I asked for one.  It was empty.  Fried air.  That’s where those crack engineering minds were spending their time.

Next up: dumb things I did:

These are the things that should comfort me whenever I think it is early senility or my most recent head injury causing me to forget something (like the time recently I ran into get my checkbook and ran out with my remote control).  I should take heart; I was always this absent minded.  When we were roommates (side note: my name is Alyson, my roommate’s name was Alison and one of my best college friend’s name was Allison, you can imagine how interesting that made things), I thought our outgoing dorm voicemail should be one of those “I am sorry, can you please speak up…?” deals, so I recorded one.  My idea and my voice and yet it still managed to fool me at least five times.  All of the roommates (we were in a six person suite), thought it was hilarious that I set my alarm clock ahead by several minutes to trick myself.  A few joked they were going to change it to screw with me more and one did — rather than being 15 minutes ahead it was somewhere in the range of 90.  For more than a semester I showed up everywhere more than an hour early. (In my defense, that was only mornings when I had something early.  Against me, I was in the student government that year and clearly, no job on earth carries the importance of that, so I did go into “my office” pretty early most days.)

Remember Gina’s ‘heap of hope?’ (Gina was not the most tidy suitemate and had a pile roughly the size of Everest on her bed.)  Yes, that remote control we lost for several months was in there.

How about Misha the cat from hell? Or how she kept leaping from the balcony?  Or how we had to hide the cats in the shower when they did room inspections?  Or Randi’s birds that shit everywhere.  

Not sure why, but back in college I liked to walk around singing the Ivory Soap commercial.  Not kidding.  One day I was in some building on campus and ran into Iowa (another suitemate) singing it.  She swore me to promise never to tell anyone but I think the statute of limitations has run its course on that one.

Anyway, when I went back, there were a lot of changes.  I don’t know what this says about me — maybe nothing, the olfactory system is supposedly one of the most closely connected to memory — but when I walked down the stairs of the union building it was as if not a moment had passed since you and I were there.  The smell brought it all back: The Rainy Night House, that student government scandal my campaign nearly caused (ironic and sad) and how lucky I am that we were roommates.

Love you.

For Dariana

Dariana Verdi

In February 2011, four year old Dariana Verdi was diagnosed with a very agressive brain cancer.  On February 16, she lost her battle with the disease.

To honor her, a great line-up of Washington, DC area comedians will perform on Friday, March 2nd at the Velvet Lounge at 7:00 pm.  Tickets are $10 but if you are inclined to give more, we won’t say no.  All proceeds will go to Dariana’s family and the Live for Today fund that helps other children and their families going through this.

 

 

The entertainment:

  • Emily Ruskowski
  • Tyler Richardson
  • Valerie Paschall
  • Mariya Alexander
  • And, of course, Alyson Chadwick (Should I start talking about myself in the 3rd person? No?  Didn’t think so.)

So what are we talking about?

Fundraiser for Dariana
Friday, March 2nd at 7:00 pm
The Velvet Lounge, 915 U Street, NW, WDC

Please note:  Dariana was my college roommate’s (Alison Koslow) daughter.  Ali and her wife Sue are two of the kindest people on the planet.  This is a very personal event for me so I am going to ask you all to spread the word so we can really celebrate Dariana’s life and the type of kindness these two wonderful people inspire through example.

Fun with insomnia

The Crasher Squirrel with me when I kissed the Blarney Stone (and if you know me, you know I kissed it.)

So, it’s 3:00 am and you can’t sleep.  No intellectual capacity for that weighty book you’ve been meaning to read?  Nothing but informercials on TV?  DVR filled with nothing but Vinney-less Jersey Shore episodes?  How ever will you pass the time?

The Crasher Squirrel!  Remember him?

A few years ago a couple was vacationing and took a photo.  They set up their camera to get them in front of a lake but the camera focused on a squirrel that ran out and got into the shot.  You can read about them and see their photo here.  You’d think they were actively trying to get a photo of him.  Little guy just wanted their friends back home to see how awesome he was.

Crasher Squirrel at an Inaugural Ball

Soon the world over got to see him as the story made headlines and people began inserting him into their photos, like I have here.  The above photo is from when I kissed the Blarney Stone in Ireland.  The one on the right is from an Inaugural Ball I attended with my friend, Arun Seraphin.

The possibilities are endless, really only limited by your imagination and the patience your friends and family might have in looking at photos they have already seen a thousand times before, only now with a delightful little squirrel inserted into them.

That's me with some kind of large weapon! Can you believe it? Me, either but it's true.

Watch out Crasher Squirrel! Don't fall off Kilimanjaro using the rest room!

On one of the many nights where I found my self tossing and turning, I remembered how much fun I had when I first heard the story and learned of the incredible invention, known only as the squrrielizer.

So, when you can’t sleep, consider the Crasher Squirrel.  Hours of fun for you and your family.

PS.  New shows were added to my comedy schedule.  Check it out!

Best Morning Ever. And if you know where I can acquire the life that I so desperately need, please let me know.

If you know me, you know I LOVE Morning Joe.  (Side note:  after I met Joe Scarborough and Mika Brzezinski I called my mom because I was excited about it.  After I told her the news, without missing a beat she said Yeah, but Willie Geist is the best part of the show.  Uh, he wasn’t there, but thanks for pointing out the negative.)

This morning, Willie Geist retweeted my tweet about why I was awake at 5:30 AND made it a favorite.  You can tell from the screen shot I took, he doesn’t have a lot of favorites, he has one.  Mine.  I nearly fell off the treadmill.  That might be because he favorites tweets and then deletes it later but for the moment, my tweet about Vinny is the only one.  I should point out that I was truly heartbroken when he left Jersey Shore and pretty excited when he came back.  More than I should have been.  Celebrate everything, I say. (No, I did not actually stay up celebrating this awesome development but I was happy.)

Willie Geist's Twitter Page -- @HobbesDurden rocks!

Willie Geist retweets a @HobbesDurden tweetAnd for good measure here’s a screen shot of the retweet.

So far, @HobbesDurden has been mentioned on Way Too Early.  You can check out  that video here.  I was mentioned by Mike Barnicle — I had emailed in that I couldn’t sleep because my 20 lb cat was trying to kill me by jumping on my head.  He responded that  should learn about cat nutrition.  He then mentioned my cat on Morning Joe.

No matter what else happens today, this day is awesome.  Willie Geist, you are my hero,

You gotta believe!

Being a Met fan means summer is the most painful time of the year.

Warning: This is a TMI post.

Anyone familiar with the Mets, is familiar with this phrase.  I often think it was cruel to raise me a Met fan when New York has a winning team but I am convinced the designated hitter rule is a crime against everything I hold holy.

Digression:  Baseball is special for a number of reasons.  There is no clock.  The season is like a pressure cooker — starts slow and leisurely and ends in a race that can be a nail biter.  One of my favorite things about the sport is that every player plays both offense and defense.  When you allow such a pivotal player — as the pitcher is — to not hit you change the batter/pitcher dynamic.  This produces pricks like Roger Clemens, whom I will love to hate until I die.  It’s just not how the game should be played and once again, love you Crash Davis, I believe there ought to be a Constitutional amendment outlawing astroturf and the designated hitter.

Anyway, back to my point.  Every year I practically live and die by the Mets. I even believed after what is regarded as one of the most historic collapses in sports.  You can read about that here.  I feel the need to elaborate on how seriously I take this.  I only wear Met blue nail polish.  When I watch a game I alternate between really watching and only having it on in the background.  Depending on how they are doing when I do either.  My Met clothing — Jose Reyes jersey, 1986 t-shirt, old school, blue satin jacket, hat, necklace — gets switched up  — are they doing better when I have the hat on?  Should I take the jacket off?  Now, I know I sound crazy — and I am — but any Met fan will tell you, we are a superstitious lot.  I know intellectually that nothing I do will impact the game — and I also know they can’r hear me when I yell at the TV.  My sports related Tourettes kicks in big time when I watch the Mets (and 4ers, tennis, etc.).

But despite all the loss and all the heartbreak, I believe in the Mets.  So why can’t I have the same belief in myself?  Because I have way more successes than the Mets (at least since 1986).  My successes & failures are not as public as a major baseball franchise will ever be but every day I succeed at my job, my writing and my other endeavors.  On occasion I succeed at doing stand-up comedy.  That rocks my world.

Yet, I still don’t give myself the faith I give the Mets.  Something is wrong with this picture.  You might be wondering why I am telling you this.  One goal I have for this year is to change that.  Because: I’m good enough, I am smart enough and doggone it, people like me. (Thank you Stewart Smalley.)  I have read that telling people about a goal makes it easier to achieve — or maybe you are more likely to succeed — and I want to make this happen.

It may be late for New Year’s resolutions but mine now are:

  1. Focus on doing ONE thing at a time.
  2. Remember that lesson I learned when trekking to Everest.  We would come to a hill that was super steep (going down was harder than up) and I would think there is no way I can make it all the way down that.  Then I would tell myself ok, maybe you cannot make it all the way but you can take the next step.  I made it base camp.
  3. Make at least five people I don’t know smile every day.  Work up to 10.
  4. Start to believe that I am more than my weight. And no, I am not the fattest person on earth like I like to think.  Plus this body got me up Kilimanjaro (19,341 ft) and made it to Everest Base Camp (18,192 ft) and that’s pretty awesome.
  5. Celebrate accomplishments and learn from setbacks.
  6. Be better to myself and the people I care about. (I have been a total asshat lately, to the people who have had to deal with me, and you know who you are, I am sorry.)

So there you have it.  My belated resolutions.  Back to your regular scheduled programming… political thoughts will be back tomorrow. Or later today.