In Response to the NY Times article: Young, Gifted, and Not Getting Into Harvard

For the past few years all that I've seen regarding collegiate admissions are flawless children; exceptionally privileged young Americans, raised in a white house with a picket fence and a two car garage. They attend private schools, overload on extracurriculars and AP courses, and stay up until the early hours researching Kant and Rousseau.

Though their wallets are more than adequate in size, theirs is a world that consists of a handful of possibilities: Harvard. Yale. Brown. Dartmouth. Georgetown. Cornell. A semester abroad at Oxford, perhaps, before the first job at Morgan Stanley and the daily commute made easier by the Audi S4 procured as a graduation gift.

On the outside, this looks like a great life. A charmed life, certainly; full of the Ivy League, summers spent on Martha's Vineyard, winter breaks snuggled up next to a fire in Aspen, starting salaries of $80k the day after graduation.

But what about on the inside?

The pressure that these exceptional students feel to succeed are pressures that never touched me in my solidly middle class family living in a lower class community. Of course, there was never a question of continuing my education after high school - but there was a question of where and for what.

State school for art or education?
The private institution for communications and english literature?

My parents supported whichever decision I made, regardless of their actual views on the subject. I never had to worry that by pursuing the arts I would be disappointing my parents and branding myself as the "free spirit" (re: disappointment) of the family.

For perhaps the first time I can see just how easy I have it.

Idle Hands.... (you know the rest)

-----Original Message-----
From: Seat Filler
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 4:22 PM
To: Chasing Ordinary
Subject:

does (Boyfriend), to your knowledge, have any difficult, high-volume or otherwise infuriating work to do this Friday?

-----Original Message-----
From: Chasing Ordinary
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 4:31 PM
To: Seat Filler
Subject: RE:

Not that I know of... Por que?

-----Original Message-----
From: Seat Filler
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 4:34 PM
To: Chasing Ordinary
Subject: RE:

I was thinking I might rearrange the letters on his keyboard to spell "ULOVEDICK" or something equally childish. But that would render his keyboard all but useless unless he's a complete touch typist.

Honestly, the ideal solution would be some sort of second keyboard so that in event he needed one that had not been mauled, he could use it. Though, I suppose since he has a laptop, this is kind of built-in.

-----Original Message-----
From: Chasing Ordinary
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 4:36 PM
To: Seat Filler
Subject: RE:

...are you really that bored?

-----Original Message-----
From: Seat Filler
Sent: Wednesday, April 25, 2007 4:42 PM
To: Chasing Ordinary
Subject: RE:

uh, obvi.

It's a Wednesday Music Round-up!

So, I know that I missed Music Review Monday and that I suck at life yadda yadda yadda but I have a good excuse seeing as Punk Rock Mama had eye surgery (yikes!) on Monday and I've been home helping take care.

That's no excuse however, and, since I've been home, I've been collecting lots of music tidbits just for you guys. For serious.

Up first is the video for Secondhand Serenade's Vulnerable.



Now, as we all know, I hate this dude.

He's what happens when the cliche tortured jock picks up an acoustic guitar and falls in love - bad music, poor lyrics, and, to be quite frank, an unattractive video with unattractive people looking at pictures and videos of their unattractive selves.

Next up... Cold War Kids.
What about them? They're on MTV! Say whaaat?!? The COLD WAR KIDS??? That band that plays The Middle East and no one knows about???

All of those Boston McHipsters are going to have to go cry into their Ezekiel Live Grain bread and soy butter.

(Ezekiel bread by the way is the weirdest shit ever. I've all for the granola crunchy way of life, but live grain bread? Are you serious? Go get some bakery bread.)


Rounding out the Greatest Week in Music Ever (not even close, really) is Hilary Duff and her new single, With Love.

Now, this may lose me tons of cool points but I don't care - after, 3 straight days of having this song played on repeat whilst shopping at Target for things that I don't need, it has drilled its way into the pleasurable part of my brain and made a little home there.

Yes, it's Hil Duff. It's not good. But it's catchy as shit and her new album will be fucking awesome to run to. Let the ridicule start now - I don't care. It's going on my iPod... with every other album she's put out.

What the fuck, Akon?

Seriously, what the fuck? This is some random girl that you yanked on stage to dry hump? For real, Akon? You don't get enough groupie ass, you've got to molest some poor fan?

Damn. Take a lesson from they dudes on the train in France two posts down.

They're entertaining while singing Phil Collins.
On a train.
Without dry-hump-raping a girl.

This one's for Adina

...two Wagamama's are opening up in the Boston area. These are the ultimate in UK Noodle shops. Check out the web menus at www.wagamama.com to increase your noodle lust.

Stumbling.

Some random dudes on a train in France singing (and breaking down) Phil Collins.

Music Review Monday

Artist: Kelly Clarkson
Album (single): Never Again
6 Words: Kelly, with Pat Benatar-esque vocals. Amazing.

Paraskavedekatriaphobia

I just don't get the fear of Friday the 13th. I really don't. The word itself is more scary than the actual day.

Furthermore (yes, that's right, FURTHERMORE) I don't understand how the fear materializes in people. I'm sure that there are some legitimate associations with the date that cause the phobia (death in the family, bad news, etc.) but theres no way that all the people who refused to get out of bed this morning due to a feeling of impending doom have had a poor experience to reinforce the fear.

Suck it up, selective agoraphobics, and come play in the sun.

Music Review... Wednesday?

Yes, today is Wednesday, not Monday. Yes, I traditionally do my music reviews on Monday. So sue me, I waited an extra two days.

But! I waited for a good reason.

Venue: Paradise Rock Club, Allston, MA
Artist: Peeping Tom (Mike Patton - Faith No More & Mr. Bungle and a motley crew of backup including a female beatboxer)
6 Words for Peeping Tom: Totally fucking sick performance.

Artist: Miho Hatori (Cibo Matto)
6 Words for Miho Hatori: Huge voice but I expected more.

Artist: Pigeon John (???)
6 Words for Pigeon John: KFed wishes he was this cool.

Desire.

If you love me at all you will get me tickets (First Ring Center, please) to the NYC Ballet's Premiere of Romeo + Juliet.

Seriously.
I have to go.
I just have to.

It's Shakespeare and it's ballet and it's New York City and I love it.

I really need to have more faith in Connecticut's ability to suck.

It's a well known fact that I hate the state of Connecticut.

The majority* of it's residents (both current and past) are stuck-up pricks with an undeserved air of superiority and entitlement surrounding them; the colleges and universities located in the state feed and feed off of this complex, creating living proof that a symbiotic relationship is not always a favorable one.

I can now add this to my list of reasons Connecticut should drop into the Atlantic; basically, instead of spending time and state funds on something important like, oh, I don't know, education or healthcare, Connecticut state representatives are instead wasting resources on making a song entitled 'Connecticut Fun' the official state punk rock song. The song, according to the Hartford Advocate is, "unabashedly pro-Connecticut, with lyrics imploring listeners to come out and enjoy punk music in the state."

Seriously, Connecticut? Seriously? You lose at life.

* Just an FYI, I don't hate EVERYONE from this abysmal shitbox of a state. I have family and friends who have, at one time or another, resided in Connecticut.

Tim Hortons vs. Dunkin Donuts: FIGHT!

I hate to admit it, but Tim Hortons, the Canadian version of Dunkin Donuts has classier marketing and advertising when put against it's afore mentioned American colleague.

For instance while we get :30 and :60 gems such as "Fritalian":



Canadians are getting sentimental and touching spots like this:


Honestly, doesn't that make you simultaneously reach for the Kleenex and call dad from your mobile phone?

Now, I'm not saying either one is superior to the other; I honestly think that both spots work for their respective audiences and convey the brand's personality well. All I'm saying is that i would much rather watch the Tim Hortons commercial... while drinking a cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee.

What can I say, Dunkin had me at hello. Actually, Dunkin had me at Fred the Baker in the 80s.

I'm a Brand Bully

My job title at my high-tech company is Market Analyst; this does not mean, as the name suggests, that I analyze tha market and come back with my findings. No, no, no. In fact, it doesn't really have any bearing on what I do on a daily basis and, if I had it my way, I would change my title to something more apt.

Something like, "Advertising and Brand Minder," or "Corporate Marketing's Biggest Annoyance". These more encompass the day to day headache that is fast becoming my professional life.

I find glaring disconnects between brand standards and work produced by our corporate studio.
I yell and kick and scream, doing my best to force them to incorporate their own rules into design.

... and all of this is done over the phone or email in two languages.

Music Review Monday

Artist: Bloc Party

Venue: Boston Orpheum

6 Words: Balcony Turbulence + Britrock = Buy tickets. Now.

Book Nerd

This past Sunday afternoon Most Attentive and I were forced to wait over 45 minutes for a table at what is fast becoming our favorite brunch spot in Brookline (this is most likely because we are unoriginal and our favorite brunch spot is also the world's favorite brunch spot). To kill time we did the same thing we've done in the past - sat at the Barnes & Noble next door reading to kill the time.

Of course, as soon as I walk into Barnes & Noble a section of my brain begins to wildly orgasm at the sight of all those virgin spines, so untouched, just ready to be broken (Yes. I love the written word in a slightly sexual way. So sue me.)... and, much like Veruca Salt, I want it now. But instead of a goose that lays golden eggs, I want a personal library that includes all my old tomes as well as the following new:

Title: Alice in Quantumland: An Allegory in Quantum Physics.
Why?: I know nothing about quantum physics except that it scares me. You know what I do know about? Alice in Wonderland. I think that if some dude has the ability to introduce me to quantum physics then more power to him.


Title: Frantic Transmissions to & from Los Angeles
Why?:Because I love her writing style and would read anything shes written. This includes a grocery list, an application form for a job at McDonalds, and a card to her brother's wife's sister in-law.


Title: Love is a Mixtape: Life and Loss, One Song at a Time
Why?: Really, guys? Really? Don't you know me at all? When I walk down the street, I'm mentally thumbing through my music collection, choosing the perfect song. I keep my important memories tied to songs; my personal history is remembered by lyrics and beats, not sounds and sensations.

Title: Why Beauty is Truth: The History of Symmetry
Why?: It's a book about math... through the lens of its historical and sociological background. I actually can't quite put my finger on why I want to read this book.



Title: Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs*
Why?: Again, do you really not know me at all? This is literally the Kix of literature: Kid tested, Mom approved -- it feels like it should be rotting your brain along with all those Devil Wears Prada-types when it's actually expanding your modern sociological intelligence.... this is at least what I like to tell myself.

Title: The Lucifer Effect: Understanding How Good People Turn Evil
Why?: Written by the same psychologist who conducted the Stanford Prison Experiment, this book explores how power can corrupt even the best of people. The experiment is used as a guide to explore the inherent human ability to abuse positions of power, deserved or handed over.