So Longfellow.

This morning John and I said goodbye to 247 Longfellow Street. We left far too much trash for the people picking it up, we probably made way too much noise cleaning up, we laughed, I cried a little, and in the end I attempted to paint a door...unsuccessfully. Through the experience, I realized a few things about moving:

First of all, I have acquired way too much junk over the past two years. I think I threw away/donated a full car load's worth of stuff to charities and the dumpster.

Second, I don't think I will move again until I find the lady who is stuck with me for the rest of her life. Then that is a worthy move

Third, moving (in general) sucks.

Fourth, contrary to popular belief, wood floors are not comfortable.

In the end Longfellow will always have a special place in my heart. It was the longest I stayed somewhere since living in Hazleton. The house took a thing or two from me...mainly though, it took my dignity. The house brought us Matthew Shoulders and beer pong on a door. It brought Brian singing in his boxers, and great neighbors who liked to paint their home odd colors.

Now, while all those are great, Longfellow most of all gave me a home and a family. So while I'm looking forward to the new experience of living with four girls, I would be remiss to say that a part of me isn't wishing I still called 247 "home."

My new experience will mark the first time I am actually living downtown/in a place where the cab driver is not pissed he has to take me home for the first time in 7 years. I hope this also means that friends will be more likely to visit. It just makes sense.

So, so Long-Fellow...thanks for the memories. I'll miss you.

Fall of the Irish

This season was supposed to be something special. The Irish were supposed to rise from the ashes, wake up the echoes, and return to glory. Like the former head coach said, "At Notre Dame, 9-3 is not good enough" Well Charlie, I bet you are eating those words now.

For how much talent this team has with Clausen and Tate, they just couldn't get the defense to make it all work. The real travesty isn't that they lost so many close, but rather that there were so many close calls.

With Charlie gone, and most likely Jimmy and Golden gone as well...it doesn't look like the Irish will be rising anytime soon.

Also, to not go to a bowl game...thats just stupid on all accounts. Get your million dollar check, pay off Charlie, and get some practice. Suck it up, and win one for the Gipper...or the fans that continually sell out your stadium.

Elation

Ballgame over...World Series over....Yankees win...theeeeeeeeeeeeeee Yankees win!!!

Nearly a decade later....the trophy is where it was always meant to be.

Interview Process

So I have been listening to a lot of talk radio lately and have decided that I do indeed love talk radio. No, I do not listen to the Rush Limbaugh talk radio...that would drive me nuts, sorry Ray.

I also have decided that my job yields me the amazing opportunity to talk to random people on the phone regarding a montage of ideas, points of view, and perspectives. These two points have inspired me to do a new bit for my blog. I'm thinking about doing random interviews with my friends...sort of in a talk show format that is video taped. I don't know if it would be funny, but I think it is worth a shot.

Also, how funny would it be to be a talk show host...I mean, minus the monologue, I think I can ask some good questions....also I think I have the hair to do the trick.

World Series

I just wanted to thank the good Lord for making me a Yankee fan.

4 more.

Urban Danced

Homecoming. Aside from Christmas, this is probably my favorite day of the year. For some, this event marks a return to happy times. A return to college, and random hookups. A return to the Trailer Park, and to the Pryz.

For me, homecoming marks the anniversary of the greatest college party in the history of CUA. Thank you Tina and Rudy. It is a time when I get to see old acquaintances, catch up at the Times, and see the Urban Dance Team.

Sure, it may be a bunch of white girls from Jersey, but you know what...those girls have moves. It is the highlight of the football game for David, and one of the many great events of HoCo. So get ready to Tanto Jump on it, make the sound a Cardinal Makes, and most importantly to come Home once again.

Tree vs Shadow

Abraham Lincoln once said, "Perhaps a man's character was like a tree, and his reputation like its shadow; the shadow is what we think of it, the tree is the real thing."

How often do we have this shadow over us that protects us from being genuine with others? So many times we say or do things because of the perception that we want other people to have.

I think sometimes its hard to show people the real you. Will they like me? How should I act around this person? I admit, it's difficult to face the fear that you might get chopped down. But is it worth it to pretend to be something your not. Be comfortable with who you are. Laugh, cry, speak your mind. Don't worry about the future, or what people's opinion of you is. Work on you first, the rest will fall into place. Character is a funny thing. We learn it over time. Build your character, and the reputation will follow. O and for the record, the people that you really care about...they like you for you.

Playoff Day

Well, today is the day. It is the day when I either begin to find meaning to my life yet again...or the day when I begin to sulk into a minor depression that can only be cured by a Notre Dame bowl win in December.

Today Yankee playoffs start. I am hopeful, yet still very apprehensive. Having the best record in baseball has not meant success in the postseason over the past decade. Don't get me wrong, I believe in this team, I really do. I'll put all my eggs into the basket. I will watch every pitch. And yes, I will cry if they lose. Jimmy Dugan, I would argue that there is crying in baseball...or at least by its fans.

So this begs the question...when was the last time you cried over a sporting event? Were they tears of joy or more likely tears of sorrow? This time I hope for the former.

They call it the World Series...

and for the longest time it was played here. Original Yankee Stadium. For some a place where dreams were realized and for others hearts broken. 26 World Championship Teams have graced that park.

Well as the final lights went out on Yankee Stadium last September, I remember sitting in the stands with my father saying, tears in his eyes...wondering..."when will they win a title again"?

Well new seasons bring new beginnings. When the Yankees cristened the new Yankee Stadium this past May, hopes and dreams were alive for a 27th World Series Title. Afterall, what better way to throw a first birthday then with a parade through the Bronx come late October. Personally, after 10 years of not seeing the Yankees win a World Series, six of them not even winning a playoff series, and one of them not making the playoffs...Ya I would say its about time. The Yankees have won 4 series in my lifetime, the Sox have won 2. In my opinion, that is two too many.

So as Jeter walked off the field yesterday, proud to be AL East Champs yet again. He knew there was still much work to be done. For him, the battle has just begun. Jeter will not rest until he puts a 5th ring on his finger on the next opening day. This is the reason I live. I live for October baseball. I live for the hopes that go along with them. Will this be the year again?

I think its time they call it the World Series...and I think its time that it's normally played here:

Hips Don't Lie

Why is that we identify with certain songs at certain points in our lives? What was the significance or the story behind it? Were the songs of one summer that good or that overplayed that we can't help but remember them? Was the song on a playlist that you repeatedly heard over and over during a roadtrip with your buddies? (Special shoutout goes to Ja Rule's Let's Ride for that one.)

Regardless of reason, I think its safe to say that we all have certain songs that no matter when we hear them take us back to a vivid memory. When we are lucky enough to have those moments, I think we should acknowledge them, laugh, and be happy that 3:40 seconds could bring back such good times. For me such a moment happened this morning.

So there I was driving down North Cap with my windows down, not really listening to anything in particular. Then...like magic, a blast from the past took me to 2006. The song: Shakira - Hips don't lie.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygctbqBijFk

Now before you laugh, limit or judge don't even try to pretend you don't like this song. It was the summer jam of 2006, and let's be honest we all have witnessed that random couple at the bar awkwardly making out to it.

Anyways, point being: Anytime I hear this song, I think of my dear friend Raymond. Senior year of college a group of us took a weekend away from DC and headed to NY for a Yankees game, and Atlantic City for some gambling. As fate would have it, Shakira was in town at Boardwalk Hall. Raymond, for his part, decided to see if there were tickets available, afterall he does love his music. Long story short, Ray got the last ticket in the venue, 5th row, center. It was as if fate had looked down on the kid from jersey and said...yes Ray...today is your day.

When reached for comment following the show, his response, "Mark, her hips did not lie."

So what about you? What song brings you back to the past?

Just when you thought it was over

Faithful Reader(s)?

For the few of you who have ever followed my blog, you know that it has been a long time since I last entertained you with my words. Well, today is a new day my dear friends. I commit to you a new pledge. After striking a deal with John Bane involving the video below, I will now be a routine "blogger" once again. So enjoy team, I hope you like it. And like Mase says, "I'm baaackkkk"

Legwarmers, kickball, and Henry Poole is Here

First and foremost, for all the discussion and hype surrounding the Legwarmers, I was more than impressed with their performance.  Their sold out show at the State Theater for 3 hrs was more than worth the 16 dollars spent.  I would recommend seeing them to anyone, and for future reference; they may be the site of my 24th birthday gala.  From an 80's fashion standpoint, I think it is safe to say that Noah's American flag bathing suit and see through shirt crushed it. I mean everyone looked good, but he took the golden ticket fo show.

As far as kickball today went, I saw something that I unfortunately haven't seen in a while.  That was the Joe slow motion dive.  For those of you who have never seen it, it basically is a highlight reel showcasing great hair and moves. I was fortunate enough to see it on several occasions and man was it beautiful.  Our team, which was a mix of Team Awesome and Team Mall Madness, was unable to come up with a single victory in the tournament...essentially coming in dead last out of 4 teams. I think we just let the other teams win...at least thats what I am going to continue to tell myself. All in all, I think we raised 500 dollars for Cancer research which is awesome.  

Now after a weekend that was filled with 80's gear, crazy outfits, rooftop beverages, and the kickball tournament on the National Mall, I watched a phenomenal movie today called Henry Poole is Here.  Now, normally I wouldn't go into a long discussion about a movie, but I believe this movie achieves something that is uncommonly difficult in the film industry. It is a spiritual movie with the power to emotionally touch anyone who watches it, irregardless of your faith belief.  The movie doesn't necessarily say that any religious beliefs are real, but more so that the belief itself is real.  

In a nutshell, I think the movie lends itself to a discussion on whether or not things happen for a reason, and more importantly what that reason could be.  The movie challenges the reasoning behind actions and events in a way that makes the watcher feel comfort in the idea that by looking at situation in a different manner, perhaps there could be resolution.  Not a sermon...just a suggestion.

(spacing was for you jb)

Tourists.

Tourists. Webster defines them as "those who travel for pleasure." It seems that each year brings more and more people to the District following the Cherry blossom festival. Perhaps it is the new hope and change in the air, or the fact that out of all travel destinations, DC is not down because of the economy. Regardless of the reason for their arrival, they come in masses. I think school groups are the worst. I think every 8th grade class this side of the Mississippi take a trip to DC. They get ushered by the chaperones and the random parent who can't leave her 13 year old to themselves...poor kid.

You all know the type; these visitors to our fair city cram the metro trains, pack the Smithsonians, stop in the middle of Constitution Avenue to take photos, and most notably gawk at the random people who play kickball or what have you on the mall. Sure, tourists are important. Without them what would the big yellow trucks parked outside of the Smithsonian have to do with their time. Also, what Capitol Hill staffers wouldn't want to get to share in the delight of ushering countless hundreds of them through the Capitol on a daily basis. The problem isn't the tourists per-say, after-all we all have been one at one point in another city. The problem is when the tourists pretend like they know what they are ding. I think it is safe to say that every one of us has had our own fair share of experience with tourists to the district.

One of my favorite experiences came this morning, so much so that I decided to make that be my rant for the day. So there I was, Friday morning, feeling good, reading my Pearls versus Swine, and it hit me. Tourists. Right outside of the entrance to the metro (where you use your smartrip or paper slip), there was literally a crew of 50 kids all in bright yellow shirts taking pictures. Their chaperone was just standing there looking confused. I appreciate the desire to take the metro...we do want to go green don't we, but seriously...what are you thinking Chaperones. You are better than that. A) you don't take the metro during rush hour, and B) there is clearly a better place to stand than right outside of the metro entrance. My favorite experiences with tourists though is certainly on the metro, preferably after a night at kickball. Those tend to yield the best conversations/awkward looks.

Trailer Trashed

One word: Trivia. For those of you who have never played, the general premise is that teams compete in order to win a montage of prizes and or free bar gear.  They answer a wide range of questions, and the use of cellphones is strictly prohibited (unless it is to text a bittie. See rule 6) Tonight in Old Town was no exception.  I was amazed at the ability of other teams to crush the team of David and I in random trivia. More than the other teams, I was most amazed at the ability of this one guy who clearly defined his life by the fact that he could answer random trivia questions on a Tuesday night (he was flying solo at the bar). From a coaching standpoint I feel as though the best way to succeed in Trivia is to have numbers on your side.  I think the more people you have, the better your chances will be. That aside, and the fact that we came in last place, we still got some free shirts from the bar.  I don't know if they felt bad for us, if we were that good looking, or the fact that the trivia only rolled 30 deep.  Either way, it was a pretty sweet deal for the entire night.  

Note to self:  A dog was the first thing the Russians sent to space.  Her name was Laika.