Another 8th-grade journal entry that makes me want to bury my head in the sand. This is the last entry, and I don't know if a greater example exists in the history of mankind of a writer being a bigger suck-ass. If I could go back in time to November 1992, I'd smack my younger self upside the head as I was writing this.
At least the third paragraph is true. Well, except for the "cherish" part... it's more like "loathe."

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Oh man, this one really makes me cringe. It's from a "journal" I had to keep in my 8th-grade English class. Each week the teacher would give us the topic to write about. As you can see, Entry #3 was Did It Really Happen.
This is painful for several reasons...
1) This story is completely made up (shocker). Yes, my family and I did take a trip through the National Parks, but that's where the truth ends and the fiction begins.
2) Considering I was in 8th grade at the time, my writing and grasp of language are atrocious. I can't imagine anyone reading this at the time could've predicted I'd become a professional writer.
3) Even back then, I was throwing in lame "ba dum dum" jokes. Head lice? Ugh...

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Let's jump ahead to 10th grade...

Here's the first page of an essay on illegal immigration. Solid research, strong facts, mediocre writing at best. But that opening paragraph... eesh. Talk about forcing in a reference to one of my favorite movies (throughout high school and college I would thrive off of opening essays with movie, TV, or musical references... they are nice space-fillers).
Oh yeah, and it verges on being racist.
But at least it got me a 9+ out of 10. Thanks, Mr. Pratt!

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When I was in 5th grade, everyone in our class had to write a poem about something they liked. These poems would be bound together into a book and distributed to each student, so that everyone's parents could read everyone else's poems.
Some people wrote about football, some about chess. One wrote about horseback riding. One about church. One about cartooning. One about the American flag.
What did I write about?
Money.
When I brought home the book to show my parents, they were horrified. Turns out they'd raised a spoiled brat. How embarrassing for them.
I can remember liking the poem at the time, and being proud of the detailed drawing of the $5 bill (including the serial number and Lincoln's beard). Now I think it looks like it was done by a psycho killer. Not so proud anymore.

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It's been a while since I put any real effort into this site. Lately I've found it hard to get motivated to post, and I'm not sure why. But this weekend I was down in Florida for a family reunion to celebrate my grandma's 90th birthday, and while at home I dug through a box of old yearbooks, papers, keepsakes, and other miscellaneous items. Some of these things are just too embarrassing not to share. So I'll begin posting my favorites later today. Check back periodically for updates (honestly I'll probably do one a day, so you don't have to check back that often)

Go TypeRacer!
I haven't seen the new Speed Racer move, so I can't give a firsthand opinion about how badly it sucks. But I can assume with a fair amount of certainty that this TypeRacer game is infinitely more entertaining, and significantly cheaper.
Although what the hell kind of psycho can type 214 words per minute?

View from the Top
The view from my apartment is slowly but surely disappearing.
For the past 10 months, construction crews have been diligently erecting a luxury highrise (The Harrison) directly across the street. This obviously annoyed me and my roommate, but on the positive (or at least not negative) side, we heard that the building would stand 16 stories. We live on the 17th floor of my building, so we expected to keep this view of the skyline (and the JCC pool directly in our sightline):

However, the other day I noticed that the stories in The Harrison are slightly taller than the ones in my building.

It's hard to tell from the perspective in this photo, but The Harrison's 8 floors are the equivalent of my 10. So when it hits 16, it will unquestionably be taller than my window.
Goodbye NYC view. Hopefully I'll at least get to see inside some interesting people's apartments.

I found out yesterday that I've been nominated for a Daytime Emmy. Yes, Cash Cab is up for Outstanding Game / Audience Participation Show, and as a Question Producer (a.k.a. writer), that means I'm in the running. Of course I won't be going to the ceremony, and if the show wins I'll have to pay for a statuette... not that I think it will win, as it's up against the powerhouses that are Jeopardy and The Price Is Right (which actually might be more vulnerable than usual with Barker out and Drew Carey in). But the old cliche is true: it's an honor just to be nominated.

But can a Daytime Emmy really compare to the trophy that finally arrived for my friend and I winning the Fuse 2007 Fantasy Football League?

(yes, it's a bobblehead)