So, I’m crass secretary for Yale ‘99. I went to Yale. Did you know I went to Yale? Yale Yale Yale Yale Yale. Part of my responsibilities includes prodding a reunion committee into shape.

Ever McPlanny McPlan Plan, never McExecuty McExecute Cute, I blasted our class listserv, FB group, and event invitees with a request to send me nominations for committee members.

One response, which basically summarizes how I feel (though supplementing Doodle foods with Popeye’s chicken finger meal would not be something I opposed; also, bring on Mamoun’s mango lassi en mass-e and follow it up with that chocolate cake from Claire’s Corner-Copia), is as follows:

Fuck committees; there are too many committees making decisions in our lives nowadays. A benevolent dictator should be appointed to make sure the beer, wine & liquor stores are fully stocked, that the Doodle caters the Class dinner, and that pretentious bloviation is kept to a minimum.

To do:  order mild electric shockers to be affixed to all reunion badges and wired to a Malevolent Dictator grid so I can zap people who say things like, “Well, I made partner a few months ago!,” “Well, our place in Nantucket has more of a Laura Ashley aesthetic to it.,” and “Yeah, the blind deal was just the cherry on top.  You know, as Harvey likes to say …”

Instead of doing my taxes or accomplishing any of the other rainbow of matrixed tasks I was supposed to pay attention to today, I finally uploaded my pictures from fellow JE Spiders Rob & Linda’s wedding this past November. I am so grateful for the chances that I have to reconnect with old friends, to immediately re-spark the chemistry of years past, and to feel entirely comfortable behaving like an asylum escapee without fear of judgment or insult.

Wait, what? What was that you just said? You in the back? Oh, that I always feel entirely comfortable behaving like an asylum escapee without fear of judgment or insult?

Well, there’s that. But it’s more fun when I’m surrounded by other peeps who feel exactly the same way.

Here’s a few of my favorite pictures off of my cammy-ra:

I. Aleksey Vayner Haterz!

A lot of folks mock & loathe the guy in the picture below, but I must admit that after a brief exchange last night with the 06520’s most notorious recent grad (not to be confused with 06520’s famous-person-baby-daddy recent grad), my heart went out to him. He reminds me of myself as a socially clueless kid on the fifth grade playground: no matter what I tried to get the cool kids to like me (get good grades! give out stickers on my birthday! win all the games at a birthday party that I was invited to off the wait list!), all my tactics were ridiculed — generally publicly — and I went back to the drawing board to solve the ever-elusive challenge of how to win friends & influence people.

So, he has haterz, and to said haterz I say: chillax. He’s a sincere kid that’s a little clueless and a little lost, but there’s no need to be a bully. Bullying, after all, is just plain declasse.

II. Half-Breed Haterz!

The guy that bought me the dress I’m wearing in the above picture — a man that in the times he occupied any brain waves oscillated, in my mind, between “a really sweet guy” and “a loathesome pariah” — once suggested that I needed to stop pretending that my membership in the Brown People’s Club actually meant anything in broader society. Easy for an Ivy League grad who has spent the vast majority of his life in the greater New York metropolitan area to say.

But, in reading an interview with 06520’s most recent non top model, I came across proof that I am not entirely making up the mean-people-energy I sometimes sense from the great underwashed:

IG: After the premiere you e-mailed us about stopping a rumor that you were half-Asian. What was that all about?
VM: I’m not half-Asian, or Asian at all, but somehow on the internet people started saying that, and I got tons of really, really racist e-mail and letters about the impurity of my blood and the corruption of the white race by my “Oriental father.”

IG: Whoa. So it was white people writing hate mail?
VM: Yeah, white people sending these really anti-Asian or anti-mixed-race stuff. I’ve taken measures to prevent it since: I changed my mailing address, my e-mail and stuff. It’s like, not only did I manage to piss off two supermodels while on the show, I managed to be the target of racial hate while not actually being of that race.

IG: When you first wrote to us, I was afraid it was my fault, because I’m half-Asian.
VM: Really? I mean, I think half-Asians are hot. [ed.note: Tory thinks I’m hot! This is the best day of my life] It was just weird for me, to be getting all this anti-Asian hate. But it was kind of funny, in it’s own way, too.

(Hmm, perhaps by gradu-ma-cation Victoria will have learned a word more appropriate than funny to describe her experience.)

Cosecantly connected to my previous post, I’ve finally uploaded all the pictures from the Alumni Assembly and the Harvard Yale pan-class tailgate.

This one, taken at the Yale Medal dinner (where, curiously, all of John Pepper’s former direct reports but few of his direct family were present), is probably my favorite.

Because I’m that kind of person, I can’t help but notice the clock hovering ominously over my father’s head.  Alright alright, I get it, universe.  I’ll try and make it home for Sugar Camp days.

Could Mory’s Cups be the original Pimp Cups?

The cord that connects my cammy-ra to my mock-puter has been MIA since mid November. (<– two spaces. Hey man, years of Typing Tutor are hard to unlearn.) So while a number of pictures that I’ve taken are locked away in my D70, there’ve been some classic shots from the official photographer of the wedding I attended in Florida a couple of months ago.

This one has to be my favorite of the bunch so far.

As of September 14, 2008, this post has moved to:  Yale Alumni Magazine > January / February 2008 Class Notes.