I have been listening to the Bee Gee's!
(I can't believe it!) Its from the Bee Gee's 1st. Thats the name of the album.

Kabalarian Philosophy of Names:

The name of Jeff gives you a very inquisitive, restless, seeking nature. You feel impelled by intense desires that you cannot comprehend or satisfy. You have had the desire to accomplish something outstanding and to do something very worthwhile for humanity, especially early in your life. This name gives you a versatile, clever, analytical mind, but unfortunately you cannot direct your interest toward an undertaking for long, as you do not have the patience and practicality for systematic hard work and attention to detail. You resent obstacles, delays, and restrictions. This name gives you ambition, high ideals, and much creative ability, but the intense dynamic nature is too often spent in feelings and in moods, rather than in constructive action.

Your name of Downer creates an idealistic, sensitive nature and a desire for culture and the refinements of life. You would work best in a relaxed environment at tasks involving writing, mathematical, or analytical skills that require concentration. You appear calm to others, but at times you suffer inwardly with nervous tension. You can find it difficult to express your deeper thoughts and feelings verbally. It is much more natural for you to express your deeper thoughts in writing. A lack of positivity and confidence is a source of difficulty in making decisions in business dealings.

(apparently Madonna, the singer, is a strong believer and follower of this philosophy)
Find yours here: http://www.kabalarianphilosophy.org/name.cfm

I was in Harvard square buying stationary and envelopes, paying with my credit card, when the woman looked at the name on the back of the card and sent me this link:

Ancestry-based scholarships for undergraduate students at Harvard College

Charles Downer Scholarship Fund
Restrictions, in order of preference:
1. Students who bear the surname Downer and who are descendants of Joseph or Robert Downer of Wiltshire, England;
2. Other students bearing the surname Downer;
3. Descendants of members of the Harvard Class of 1889.


I picked the wrong school. I am going to look into this further.

what i learned at the first day of school (in quotes):

"Whatever I write in email, it doesn't mean anything. It is just words
I write." (P. Hilton)

"One of the great things about books is sometimes there are some
fantastic pictures." (G.W. Bush)

"Generally speaking, you aren’t learning much when your lips are
moving.” (unknown)

woke up with an inkling of the big city. showered, shaved and headed to south station in chinatown to buy a ticket to nyc. within five minutes of the transaction I was literally shoved on the express bus by a little chinese woman wearing a red parka with the text “Fung Wah Express” in large white font, peeling off and worn, probably from the repetitive action of pushing people onto huge menacing vehicles. fifteen dollars, and 3 hours later I was squeezed out of the bus right in the bowery, with no place to stay and no plan of action, all I was aware of was the cacophonous bitter wind that was pummeling at me at a temperature of minus fifteen, and I was coat-less just a flimsy denim-jacket. I made some calls: Koko, Nathan, Dennis, William and then Niki, most plans fell through, but I finally arranged a place to crash in Brooklyn of a friend of a friends. I had a copy of Gol Nu Get Mote and wanted to take it to Printed Matter, not knowing where it was or having a map on me, I relied on my instincts and memory from the two other times I have been in this metropolis. When I was waiting at 4th St. station an older man wearing a long blue parka with a white fur collar kept looking at me, probably because I looked so damn cold and unprepared, but I thought nothing of it. I got to Chelsea and found Printed Matter, but then hunger set in, and I ate at this little diner across the street. As I sat at the bar drinking coffee, the man with the blue parka sat next to me and ordered a coffee as well. I ordered the hangover sandwhich, and kept thinking about this man next to me and how in such a large city full of so many people could we both be coincidentally be on the same paths and arrive here from the opposite end of Manhattan? I paid and headed over to Printed Matter and applied to have my book sold there. As I was leaving the man with the blue parka entered.
Headed to a bar-b-que restaurant to meet Clayton, who is in the band Crawl Babies, whose house I was crashing at in Brooklyn.

Around 10, a hurst pulled up to a funeral home and a draped-body on a stretcher was wheeled out. As I approached a gust of wind followed me, and whipped off the veil that was covering the body. A woman, recently embalmed, with pastiche make-up all over her white, soul-less skin was laying there, and her body jiggled as the drivers lifted the stretcher onto the sidewalk, it was a jiggling that resembled a voiceless “hello there”. I stood there, in shock, staring at the vessel, when I was shaken back into reality by one of the funeral home employees saying “sorry about that” to me. My nose started bleeding, as it had earlier on the subway, from what I thought was from vacillating between hot and cold climates so fast, however, luckily, when I was on the subway a man gave me a Dunkin Donuts styrofoam coffee cup and a napkin to bleed into - america runs on dunkin.
Also a man off the street gave me a huge german army parka because I looked so cold! And it took me forty-five minutes to find a place to piss in Chinatown, I had to buy a black-bean bun, but it was worth it.
Saw the Pink Mountaintops play in Brooklyn, it was a true rock and roll fantasy as I drank an old fashioned.

On the bus ride home, the bus stopped at a McDonalds in Connecticut and parked in the back.
I saw a woman who was driving a mini-van smoking crack by the grease dumpsters. A few minutes later, three women and a man in their fifties and a child came out with arms full of McDonalds paper bags and got into the minivan along with the woman who was smoking crack and they all drove away, a happy meal.
Got home and Nathan took me out to dinner.

plastic man, you are the devil.

so i wanted to go to a sauna and do some swimming here in Boston, and found out there aren't any recreational centers, only gyms and the ymca. so i signed up for a membership at the ymca - being that it is cheaper. I arrived late last night to a huge, old building, circa like 1780's, many meandering canals, rusted doors, a basement pool, dark nooks and crannies everywhere - the whole experience was like that out of a horror film. so after this old 80 year old security guard with white, slicked-back hair on a leathery, stained, taut face, wearing a tight green tweed costume showed me which lockers work out of all the broken ones, I wanted to go into the sauna. I changed and went in to find this black man stretched out on the top step with nothing on but a little white rag covering what should not be seen in public, and beside him, an opened bottle of vaseline. I was a gaff at what my mind was assuming was happening here, so I sat at the opposite end, where all the cool air was seeping through the door while I had one eye open to spot any dangerous moves. After some time going in and out of the sauna and lap pool, where swim caps are mandatory, I unearthed the secret to the vaseline can. The man applies it all over his body to block his pours, aiding him to sweat profusely.

From Erin Marranca's blog"

Metaphors for Life

I watched you fall asleep. At first you were cute,
but then your mouth was open
& you were snoring.