Happy Third of the Month!

Today is the first Third of the Month in 2008. This provides us with an excellent chance to start the year off right. New state, new job, new puppy (forgive me, oh Peaches!), new opportunities to appreciate one's own existence.

So stock up on moist towelettes, put on some plaid (if you even own any plaid anymore, this being 2008 and all...), and marvel at how absolutely perfect you are. The Colbert Report is back and after today we hopefully won't have to hear about Iowa for another 4 years. What could be better?

Happy Third of the Month!

Well, I believe it has been over a year since you last received a greeting on this day. This is not to say that I haven't been voraciously extolling my own virtues in the meanwhile. Far from it. I have been, idiomatically at least, loving myself up one side and down the other for the better part of this year.

In the intervening months I have defended my thesis, published a portion of said thesis in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, moved to Roosevelt Island, and lined up a post-doc at a prestigious university with an infamous lacrosse team. That university is not, unfortunately, in New York City. Which means this September we will be moving our humble little family (me, boy and cat) to the South. I will therefore have to not only learn what it's like to own a car and drive everywhere I want to go, but to like grits and Duke basketball. I think I'm up for the challenge (the grits at least).

So, since this is a day of happiness and joy, I will not dwell on how I will miss the vim and vigor of the Greatest City on Earth, but rather focus on how the streets of North Carolina will presumably not smell like the men's room at Penn Station every time the temperature gets above 73 degrees. I will also focus on how I will have a yard and porch and a grill and not pay 65% of my salary towards rent! Maybe I can afford some new plaid underwear...

Love yourselves. You deserve it.

Happy Third of the Month!

Ah, spring has sprung. It's wet and breezy with wild temperature fluctuations and inconceivably high levels of airborne allergens. Not to mention the fact that the vaguely acidic smell that has been permeating my department's restrooms comes not from infrequently emptied trash bins but from the toxic vapors emanating from the broken wasteline from the gross anatomy lab above us. If I wasn't in the daily habit of inhaling enough methanol to blind an elephant, I might be worried.

But not today.

Because today is about happy thoughts. Happy thoughts like how ludicrously awesome Prison Break is. Will Sarah Wayne Callies actually break the law and help Wentworth "I'm Secretly Black" Miller escape? Who is this "Company", an international conglomerate of corporations that control all world politics (aka the Elders of Zion) and why are the messing with Patricia Wettig? And don't you think Patricia Wettig's name seems to be missing a consonant?

All these questions, however, can gleefully distract us from our true mission today: to spread love and joy and self-appreciation everywhere! Some may say that my infatuation with self-satisfaction is merely a casualty of the self-esteem movement of my childhood, a "this is your brain on drugs" childhood, which admittedly made heroin look tasty rather than horrifying (had I known the dangers of "bad" cholesterol (which is of course an idiotic oversimplification of an essential and vital mammalian sterolic compound that we really shouldn't be attempting to moralize by placing value judgments on it)) I'd've probably been terrified. If I had been a product of the "drugs will make you stick your entire hand in your mouth" childhood, I might have stayed of the crank... the self-love crank that this!

So if you're having difficulty finding your inner high today and you can't get a hold of some methanol, might I proffer a suggestion: take a dozen moist towelettes and remove them from their deliciously square foil wrappers. Layer them on top of each other and place them firmly over your nose and mouth. Secure them by tying a bandanna (preferably plaid) around your head and breath normally. Ignore the burning sensation in the middle of your cerebellum. As your eyes begin to well up with tears of joy and wonderment, think upon the meaning of the Third of the Month and try to stay awake until the euphoria hits you....

Not My Fault...

I intend to return to blogging as soon as my schedule calms down a bit.

I have resurfaced, however briefly, to inform everyone that I am in no way involved in this. A worm that attacks everyone on the third of the month is, in fact, blasphemous! That is not in the spirit of the Third of the Month! It is not about wanton destruction or vandalism! It is about loving yourself and cherishing yourself and protecting yourself from sadness and malaise. And plaid. Never forget that ultimately this day is about plaid....

So, grab a stack of moist towellettes, don your favorite pair of plaid boxers (or if you have any shirts left over from the mid 90s) and start updating those virus definitions! And stop downloading porn from random spam! (And no, the irony of this worm's method of attack is not lost on me...)

Happy Third of the Month!

Ah, it's that time again. The fall weather is nipping at our door. Well, not today; it's like 80 degrees. But soon it will be.

Last month we took a Third of the Month hiatus because we were basking in the rays on Fire Island, not thinking about the horrible tragedy that was assaulting our nation. Normally, we would have celebrated in our usual cynical form but this one, at the time at least, seemed too soon and too crass, even for me. Although some of you may remember my September 11th limerick (email me for details), you should keep in mind that I was shell-shocked and not thinking straight.

Anyway, enough of this depressing crap. Let's remember what this day is really about! It's about loving yourself and loving yourself often. The world is looking up. I was in Connecticut for a wedding on Saturday which happened to be the day that civil unions went into effect. I got to hold a baby and it shit on me. The president has, I believe, completely isolated his base this new Supreme thingy. And the plaintiffs are kicking butt in Dover. Who could ask for anything more! (Toyota!)

So, wear plaid. Always carry a moist towelette. And watch Sarah Wayne Callies '99 on Prison Break tonight. She's trapped in the hospital wing of the prison during a riot, but she's still managing to out act everyone in a three mile radius; and it's only a matter of time before she can out stare Wentworth Miller into middle distance.

Happy Third of the Month!

It's August. It's hot as balls. I have a wicked scary talk to give in a week. And the president just said that he thinks we should teach "Intelligent Design" in public schools. But I'm not going to let that get me down. I'm going to get out there, like I do every month, and spread the good news! Today is a day that we should think of nothing but ourselves, nothing but the beauty that God bestowed upon us, the beauty that allows us to walk proud and tall (unless we are short) and say "I am what I am!"

But, not all self-love is selfish. We can love ourselves by helping others. And by helping others we get a glimpse of what it is like to be in someone else's place, or even a place in our own past; a place that was dark and foreboding and sad and ugly before we got Queer-Eyed. For example, I believe that every time we teach a child the joys of molecular cloning and immunoblotting (like I got to do today) we celebrate ourselves. Sure, we may be sacrificing precious time in the laboratory but we are at the same time educating the youth of America in a monetarily well-compensated way. I do this not only for myself but because I learn from the children as well. See, I believe the children are our future. We have to teach them well and then let them lead the way. In the spirit of the Third of the Month we must show them all the beauty they possess inside and give them a sense of pride, to make everything easier. And then, when we have opened ourselves up, we can let the children's laughter remind us how we used to be.

Yet remember, the Third of the Month is ultimately about appreciating yourself and all the unique qualities you have to give to the world. You are special just as I am special. I decided long ago never to walk in anyone's shadow. I figured, if I fail or if I succeed, at least I'll live as I believe. No matter what they take from me, they can't take away my dignity! Or my moist towelettes! Because today, the Third of Month is happening to me, as it should be happening to you. I found it right inside of me. It's really easy to achieve because learning to love yourself is what the Third of the Month is all about.

So if, by chance, that special place you've been dreaming of leads you to a lonely place, find your strength in plaid....

Happy Extremely Belated Third of the Month

Like always, July's Third of the Month falls at a very (in)opportune time: my anniversary. This year was year two. Judging by how some relationships go, that's like a golden anniversary. Regardless, it fell at a very busy time. Some of you have voiced disappointment by my lack of good cheer. But I think everyone is entitled to a summer break.

Me, I'm breaking right now. It's six o'clock and I have a little too much beer in me. Paid for by the boss. For no good reason.

So love yourselves. Yay moist towellettes. Whatever. You know the drill. Plaid rocks.

Happy Third of the Month!

Do you know where your moist towellettes are? Probably all used up from May, eh? Whew, was that a rough month let me tell you, and not in that good way.

But right now I'm preparing to go to Fire Island! That's right, watch out muscle queens cuz Mikey is going to party hardy! With three other straight couples! Nowhere near Cherry Grove or the Pines! But that's ok, if things get dodgy, I should be able to escape readily; I'm bringing my swimmies. And I've got fourteen hours of beach mixes on my iPod, including one that will make me think I'm in Cherry Grove. I can't lose.

So while I'm chilling on the beach in 80 degree weather we're supposed to be having this weekend, I'll be not thinking of any of you. If I don't come back with a little color, I'm blaming the trannies, who of course would never be caught dead wearing plaid and so they obviously don't know shit about shit.

Touch of evil, suckers!

The Worst Week Ever

My friend, Phatiwe, passed away last Thursday after a grueling year with cancer. She was 27. I spent the next five days in Boston, mourning with my friends, all of whom came rushing up as soon as they heard. It was extraordinarily unpleasant. As were the numerous phone calls to people I hadn't spoken too since after graduation, having to hear the elation in their voices because I'd called quickly fade when they were told why. It's not something anyone should have to do. Ever.

We did send her off proper, though. She left explicit instructions on what bars we had to crawl to and made sure we wound up in Chinatown when we were done, gorging on crab rangoon and roast duck. Typical; even after she was dead she managed to tell us what to do. And after we settled up the bill at one of her favorite hangouts, the bartender told us that the first round was on Phatiwe; I think it's the first time I've ever cried in public.

She was loved by many, many people; the funeral home couldn't hold everyone who came. She had a few dozen high school friends and co-workers, as well as us. But aside from her parents, the ol' college gang was the most visibly broken up, especially Jen who had been the only one left in Boston to take care of this miserable experience for the past year.

I realized throughout this whole crapfest that you really do form something important during those late night runs to Denny's in West Lebanon. When you live together at such a young age, you get very close. You grow up together. Phatiwe, Sandra and I spent the first snowstorm of our freshman year making snow angels in front of Baker Tower. We spent the last snowstorm of senior year making snow angels in front of the New Dorms. The only difference is that, in the latter case, I had drunken a whole bottle of gin and was only wearing a T-shirt. See, we grew up.

No one deserves to die, but if they did Phatiwe should have been the last in line. She was a beautiful, compassionate person, even to the end when she didn't want anyone to have to see her losing. Which isn't surprising when you consider that she would grow her nails out specifically so she could attain maximum maiming during a game of Egyptian Rat Screw, guaranteeing that you would never have a chance to win ever again.

And yet for all the suckiness, I've come to appreciate how special my friends truly are and how goddamn lucky I am to have them. Really, really lucky. For all the growing up we were supposed to do in college, it was those stupid, childish antics that really bound us together. Well, Mom, I think I finally grew up.

And it fucking sucks.

May: When Everyday Is The Third of the Month!

With all this wonderful weather and my brawls with lit tobacco products, I nearly forgot that May is a very, very special month. Every May the rest of the world recognizes the mission of the Third of the Month, the importance of loving yourself to your truest and fullest capacity. While you're convincing yourself of how wonderful you are, you might want to think of one of the numerous ways that your time and effort can benefit others. And don't worry if you're new to the joys and wonders of the Third of the Month; help is available for all those who need it. And don't be shy. Don't be embarrassed by the fact that you love and cherish your uniqueness. You're not the only one. And there's absolutely nothing wrong about treating yourself right. Unless you're doing it wrong.

Embarrassing Celebrity Crushes

We all have them. We don't want to admit it, but we do. That celebrity that gives you that little tingle whenever you see them but you don't want to tell anyone for fear of being mocked? Yeah, that one. Sure, we all have those crushes that no one bats an eye at; the crushes that everyone else has so it's universally ok. Like my unbearable crush on Orlando Bloom and my unnatural attraction to Nicole Kidman (or maybe it's the other way around). Or more recently, Seth Meyer, who's both cute and relatively funny.

But then there's the uncool ones. Like a close personal friend of mine has always had a thing for Diedrich Bader, the guy who plays Osgood on "The Drew Carey Show". Or yet another friend has a thing for Rachael Ray. These are unnatural, unwarranted obsessions and should remain undisclosed.

Yet as a cleansing ritual of sorts, I am going to confess to the whole world my embarassing celebrity crush: Donovan Patton. Yes, that's right, the guy who replaced that Steve guy on Blue's Clues. Got that? Blue's Clues. It's really disturbing. I sometimes can't leave my apartment in the morning because I have to watch the whole show just in case that today is the day he takes his shirt off at the end. It's sick. I am a sick, twisted individual. I need to put out of my misery.

Happy Belated Third of the Month!

If you're like me, your Third of the Month breezed by in flurry of self-indulgence and treating yourself like a god among gods. And like all good Thirds of the Month, it should have had its ups and downs, its pleasures and pains, its climaxes and denouements.

Yesterday was the 25th annual Vincent DuVigneaud student symposium. I gave a talk. I failed to win. Again. I am, however, not bitter. There were too many other more egregious injustices in the judging process to take the blow personally. And even though I did a kick-ass job of bringing it down to a plebeian level, nobody really appreciates biophysics.

So, I decided that, rather than drown my sorrows with a plethora of alcohol, I was going to celebrate my wonderfulness with a plethora of alcohol. And celebrate I did. It was just like old-times; free booze at Griffis, followed by a crowded TJs, polished off with Red Bull at the Banshee. Got into a fight with the lit end of a cigarette (my second loss of the day). Hung out with some cool people from Ithaca, one of whom was painfully cute. Pretty much how the Third of the Month should be. Only with cash prizes coming my way.

That said, wear plaid; it's good for your soul. Use moist towelettes; they're good for your health. And try to eat fatty fish several times a week. It's good for your ion channels.

Happy Third of the Month!

Time to pull out that plaid and treat yourself right. No titty bars or crap like that. No binging neither. Nope, that's not for a day like today. Today is when step back, take that deep breath, no matter what we're doing, and appreciate what God gave us. Today is the day to use the expensive facewash and walk to the store instead of taking the bus. Today is the day that you crack open that good bottle of wine you've been saving for a special occasion. Because today is the day that is the occasion that doesn't need an occasion. We shouldn't need an excuse to love ourselves but we often forget.

But not the Third of the Month. We should never forget about ourselves on the Third of the Month.

This Third of the Month, I'm going to share with you a little thought I had yesterday. As we all know, the Pope has died. I feel sad and I don't know why. I think he was a pretty good Pope. He poped during some hard times and had the purest of intentions. But I really have nothing to compare to. And that was my thought. That part of the Catholic mass where we pray "for John Paul our Pope, Edward our bishop..." etc? Well, I've gone through a bunch of bishops but I've never heard anything else there beacause I've never known any Pope other than JPII. And in a week or two, I'll never hear it again. And I thought, wow, that's weird, especially since it was the first thought that popped into my head.

Anywho. Love yourself. Because that's what the Pope wants.

Oh, and he wants us to always use moist towelettes because cleanliness is next to popeliness.

It's the Third of the Month...

... do you know where your plaid is? I can tell you where mine is but I can't show you since it would be considered sexual harassment to my fellow labmates.

But we don't worry about silly things like sexual harassment on this day, do we? Nope. Not today. Today is the day that everyone is without judgment or regret or anxiety, even if your figures which you'd assumed were statistically significant are not quite in fact entirely unlike statistically significant. No, we don't worry about these things today. How did that line go in that edgy 90s musical? Today for you, tomorrow for me? Well, guys, today is for you you you!

Treat yourself to something special today, like maybe instead of a normal cup of coffee in the afternoon you get a half double decaffeinated half-caf, with a twist of lemon. Or instead of taking the bus home, take a cab. Or instead of committing sodomy, spice it up with a little gommorrahy. Do whatever suits your fancy; and do it twice. At least. Because you're once, twice, three times a wonderfully awesome person. Each and every one of you. Even those of you who stumbled onto this page because I somehow offended you in a blog comment box. Yes, even you.

Because while the Third of the Month is about celebrating your own very special uniqueness (which, by virtue of it's uniqueness is automatically special and can't be modified by a comparative since something can't be less unique if it's unique, but I digress), it is also about celebrating our humanity. Everyone's got some humanity, even Ann Coulter and James Carville. Heck, I bet buried deep down there somewhere, even Saddam Hussein's got a little humanity. If he'd celebrated the Third of the Month a little bit more we probably wouldn't even be in this pickle. Not that I think that the Third of the Month can cure all of our ills. Not at all, but it can sure make you forget about everything but the beauty that is you (at least for an average of 3-8 s).

So love yourself. And give me a shout out for my one year blogoversary! Because it was this day, one year ago, where I started my semi-daily web-musings. And I still don't average more than 100 hits a day, no matter how many times I mention the Gotti boys or Charisma Carpenter's breasts.

Go moist towelettes!

Miscellaneous Stuff

Yesterday, besides being the Superbowl, was also another important day. The Gipper would have turned 94. God rest his soul. "Republicans believe every day is the Fourth of July, but Democrats believe every day is April 15." The man was a genius, even if his wife's "Just Say No" campaign was a dismal, misguided failure.

And speaking of old people, I also realized that the Third of the Month used to have a very special meaning for them, up until 1997 and probably never again after 2042. Apparently, social security checks used to be received on the third of every month! How exciting that right around 1997 was when the Third of the Month was first celebrated in its official capacity, back when we, no stranger to plaid or moist towelettes, began to spread the self-actualizing joy that is the Third of the Month to the myriads of people who need an excuse to love themselves. I think that old people getting money is an extremely appropriate way the Third of the Month can be celebrated. Are we not doing good for others by paying into social security and doesn't doing good for others in turn help us appreciate our own marvelousness? Or have I been sitting in front of my computer too long trying to link a linear Y axis to a logarithmic one and scale by a factor of RT?

Happy Third of the Month!

Well, the Third of the Month is upon us again and, if as if history was mocking me, I'm pretty much in the same boat that I was in last February around this time. According to my records I was hopped up on Day-Quil and stressed about my poster for a conference. Today I'm still getting over my miserable cold from last month and stressed out about my poster for a conference. But unlike last year, tonight I'm going to see a kick-ass friend perform in the one-act play of another kick-ass friend. Neither of these kick-ass friends knew each other until I joined them together with the awesomeness that is me.

See how awesome I am? See how awesome this day can be?

So what do we do on a day like today? We love ourselves. We love ourselves because, even though that frickin' groundhog saw his shadow and that I'm still exhausted from my move u-town, I still love myself enough to treat myself to an evening of off-off-off-Broadway drama. Because this day isn't about how much colder it's inevitably going to get; it's not about how you're never going to get this damn poster finished; it's not about how you've piddled the day away in meetings.

It's about how smart and beautiful and wonderful you are.

And how much you love plaid.

Oh, and moist towelettes. Don't ever forget about the moist towelettes....

Happy Third of the Month!

If you can even call it that. Happy, I mean. Of course it's the Third of the Month. I've been up since six. Six! In the morning! Fuck New Year's resolutions; I much prefer my beauty sleep. Today is supposed to for me, me, me and I'm tired, tired, tired. But not as grouchy as some people I know who are quitting smoking against their will. But that, I say, is the best way to celebrate yourself; treat your body right!

That's why I'm going to sleep by nine tonight. Because I deserve it after my illness ridden holiday.....

Go moist towelettes!

Happy Third of the Month!

What have you got to feel good about today? Me, I'm going to be getting on a plane to Pittsburgh this afternoon. Whoopee! I'm hoping it's going to be as exciting as Queer As Folk makes it out to be. Somehow, however, I'm guessing not so much.

But I'm not going to let that get me down! No sirree bob! Me, I'm looking on the bright side. It's the holiday season. We need to cheer up and spread joy and love. When you think about all the troubles in the world and you don't know what to do, just look around to see a child without a friend, and you'll know it's up to you to set a good example for the years that lie ahead. Remember, "suffer the little children" is what the Bible said! Save the children! Save the children!

Wow. That was a, um, wow. So anyway, today of all glorious days, we need a little Christmas. When the little baby Jesus comes, he wants to know that you love yourself, because in loving yourself, you can better love others. "And a little child shall lead them" is what the Bible said! Just as I shall lead you, every Third of the Month, toward the ultimate expression of your true wondrousness!

And moist towellettes.

Oh, and I finally remembered to wear plaid today.

Happy Third of the Month!

Well, kiddies, today is a perfect day to celebrate the Third of the Month in earnest! If you were like me you've saturated yourself with the election for the past year, and now you're glad that it is finally over. You may be happy with the results, especially if you don't care about your own civil liberties. Or you may be saddened by the results, especially if you don't like this new brand of theo-conservatism that's sweeping the electorate. Or you might be indifferent towards the results because you have the emotional IQ of a lemur. It doesn't matter. What matters is that under no circumstances should you let any outside force stop you from enjoying yourself.

No matter who you voted for at your local polling place yesterday, when it comes to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, you should have voted for yourself. And unlike yesterday, you don't only get to vote once. Today you can vote for yourself as often as you like. In fact, the more you vote for yourself, the happier you'll be. I guarantee it. You might even get someone else to vote for you. That's always fun.

So pull out your plaid, root around for those moist towellettes and exercise your right to Third of the Month, until a Bush appointed Supreme Court takes it all away...

Happy (Belated) Third of the Month!

I'm sorry that I didn't get a chance to wish you all a Happy Third of the Month on it's actual blessed day, but I was in Boston. I celebrated the beauty that is me yesterday by not taking the bus back, a bus that no doubt would have been full of people crazier (if possible) than on my ride up. Instead I gave myself a treat and went business-class Amtrak and by golly it's really the only way to travel (short of the shuttle which I can never afford). Yeah, I know it's pricey but when you get back instead of being tired because you've been sitting next to some insane woman reading self-help books and taking diligent notes or behind a man who insists on having his seat all the way back, even though he spends half the time leaning forward, you are actually rested because you've had a nice, leisurely snack of cheese and crackers and wine have watched the sun set over the Connecticut coastline. And you get free soda! It really does make everything better. And then when you get home you can watch The Wire and not be grouchy.

So remember, whether or not it is the Third of the Month, or the fourth of the month, or the twenty-fourth of the month, love yourself. Love yourself, because everyone else loves you and you wouldn't want to be the only one left out. Love yourself because love is what the world needs now and there's just so little of it and you wouldn't want to spread it around too liberally and not have anything left over for yourself, now would you? Love yourself because you can't trust other people to do it for you, even though they really should cuz you kick ass. And love yourself because when you're used to loving yourself it helps make loving everyone else just a little bit easier. And like I said before, the world needs love. Love, sweet love.

And plaid. The world definitely needs plaid. And moist towellettes. Oh, and cheese. But not the kind with weird fruits or nuts or stuff in it; that shit's just weird.