(no subject)
So for those of you who haven't already heard, the assistant debate coach at GHS was arrested for sexting a student. I don't really remember the last time a news story was this entertaining for me. I LOVE how the debate network has handled this, through facebook, text messages, and comments on the various local newspaper websites. Most debaters who knew this choad have responded with "yeah... not surprised," although reactions run the gambit of "I can't tell you how many times he voted for us when we ran patriarchy" to "we had to bar him from judging our female debaters" to "I have known him for years and he is a gentleman and a scholar." The last one, to me at least, is the best argument against him. Gentleman and Scholar = Rapey-Face McStatuatory, and there's no splitting hairs about it.
Thus have I dubbed him, and so he shall be named henceforth.
I love how horribly, weirdly, uncomfortably close and incestuous the Texas debate circuit is. I mean, screw the news wire; this shit hit the debate fan and splattered across the continent before the KXAN anchorwoman could find her microphone and make a completely superfluous live report from the GHS parking lot at 11:00 pm. Suddenly debate coaches are commenting on our walls about what a sketch ball this dude has been all along, and teammates I haven't talked to since sophomore year are sending me messages.
And even better are all these non-debaters, who are just everyday joes from Georgetown, who apparently have nothing better to do but troll the message boards of local news stations and leave comments like, "DUDE I BET SHE WAS LIKE 18 ITS NOT A BIG DEAL" and "HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS THESE DAYS ARE SLUTS THIS GIRL DOESN'T DESERVE ANY PITY" and "DUR WHY DID THEY HIRE A 20-YEAR-OLD ANYWAY THIS WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN."
Okay, so the DUR was an editorial choice of mine, but the rest is more or less verbatim.
Because, you know, if girls dress slutty (as slutty as they can with a dress code that prohibits spaghetti-string tank tops) they deserve any kind of harassment they get, and even though there is an inherent power structure involved in a student-coach relationship, it's totally cool as long as she's 18, and OBVIOUSLY if the school hires a 20-year-old they are to blame, because 20-year-old dudes are incapable of controlling themselves and helplessly susceptible to the whiles of those dress-code-abiding high school hussies.
Phenomenal, all around.
So did any of you folks know Mr. McStatuatory? He must have been a sophomore when I was a senior, if not a freshman, and I wasn't debating at the time so I have no recollection. I'm really curious to talk to someone who actually knows him. Everybody knows everybody in the debate world, but really, I didn't know this guy.
In other news, things have been active lately. On Saturday night I hung out with this girl Lindsey and her friends; we went to a video art party, kind of a video open mic night, where a bunch of people showed their random short films and there was a DJ and we ate some rockin free snacks, including cupcakes and cheese and hummus and fried chicken, and free beer and box wine. It was chill and indie and swank and it reminded me specifically of something Lena and Becky would have been into.
On Friday, Bryan and I got drunk at a bar with Stephanie, and while watching the winter olympics we decided to start a curling team. The next morning, Stephanie informed us that the annual curling expo was in town, and on Sunday we had brunch and headed to the expo to do us some curling. Unfortunately, because brunch was so crowded and the food took so long, by the time we made it to the hotel the expo was closed to further crowds.
Bryan and I were immediately crushed and defeated, but Stephanie has balls of iron and wouldn't take no for an answer. She led us on a search for a back entrance; we went down an alley, to the loading dock, told a lie and got some dudes to let us into the service entrance, navigated the labyrinthine hallways meant for maids and kitchen staff, took stairs and elevators up and down, and finally emerged in front of the sign-up table, where a friendly lady greeted us and gave us sign-up sheets.
So we waited in line for a few minutes with some other people, and a curling expert taught the three of us how to curl on some strips of fake ice.
It is harder than it looks, you guys. I have a bruise on my knee.
Triumphant, we headed home, and on the way we climbed the three-storey snow mountain at the bus depot, and saw a dancing dragon left over from Chinese New Year.
All in all, an eventful weekend.
This weekend we might go to NY for a night to see Kellie before she leaves for Europe. Next weekend my parents come to visit, and afterward I go to Boston to stay with Katy for a few days.
That's pretty much it.
Oh, and I got rejected from Syracuse. Haven't heard from any other schools yet.
Thus have I dubbed him, and so he shall be named henceforth.
I love how horribly, weirdly, uncomfortably close and incestuous the Texas debate circuit is. I mean, screw the news wire; this shit hit the debate fan and splattered across the continent before the KXAN anchorwoman could find her microphone and make a completely superfluous live report from the GHS parking lot at 11:00 pm. Suddenly debate coaches are commenting on our walls about what a sketch ball this dude has been all along, and teammates I haven't talked to since sophomore year are sending me messages.
And even better are all these non-debaters, who are just everyday joes from Georgetown, who apparently have nothing better to do but troll the message boards of local news stations and leave comments like, "DUDE I BET SHE WAS LIKE 18 ITS NOT A BIG DEAL" and "HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS THESE DAYS ARE SLUTS THIS GIRL DOESN'T DESERVE ANY PITY" and "DUR WHY DID THEY HIRE A 20-YEAR-OLD ANYWAY THIS WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN."
Okay, so the DUR was an editorial choice of mine, but the rest is more or less verbatim.
Because, you know, if girls dress slutty (as slutty as they can with a dress code that prohibits spaghetti-string tank tops) they deserve any kind of harassment they get, and even though there is an inherent power structure involved in a student-coach relationship, it's totally cool as long as she's 18, and OBVIOUSLY if the school hires a 20-year-old they are to blame, because 20-year-old dudes are incapable of controlling themselves and helplessly susceptible to the whiles of those dress-code-abiding high school hussies.
Phenomenal, all around.
So did any of you folks know Mr. McStatuatory? He must have been a sophomore when I was a senior, if not a freshman, and I wasn't debating at the time so I have no recollection. I'm really curious to talk to someone who actually knows him. Everybody knows everybody in the debate world, but really, I didn't know this guy.
In other news, things have been active lately. On Saturday night I hung out with this girl Lindsey and her friends; we went to a video art party, kind of a video open mic night, where a bunch of people showed their random short films and there was a DJ and we ate some rockin free snacks, including cupcakes and cheese and hummus and fried chicken, and free beer and box wine. It was chill and indie and swank and it reminded me specifically of something Lena and Becky would have been into.
On Friday, Bryan and I got drunk at a bar with Stephanie, and while watching the winter olympics we decided to start a curling team. The next morning, Stephanie informed us that the annual curling expo was in town, and on Sunday we had brunch and headed to the expo to do us some curling. Unfortunately, because brunch was so crowded and the food took so long, by the time we made it to the hotel the expo was closed to further crowds.
Bryan and I were immediately crushed and defeated, but Stephanie has balls of iron and wouldn't take no for an answer. She led us on a search for a back entrance; we went down an alley, to the loading dock, told a lie and got some dudes to let us into the service entrance, navigated the labyrinthine hallways meant for maids and kitchen staff, took stairs and elevators up and down, and finally emerged in front of the sign-up table, where a friendly lady greeted us and gave us sign-up sheets.
So we waited in line for a few minutes with some other people, and a curling expert taught the three of us how to curl on some strips of fake ice.
It is harder than it looks, you guys. I have a bruise on my knee.
Triumphant, we headed home, and on the way we climbed the three-storey snow mountain at the bus depot, and saw a dancing dragon left over from Chinese New Year.
All in all, an eventful weekend.
This weekend we might go to NY for a night to see Kellie before she leaves for Europe. Next weekend my parents come to visit, and afterward I go to Boston to stay with Katy for a few days.
That's pretty much it.
Oh, and I got rejected from Syracuse. Haven't heard from any other schools yet.