Saturday, November 04, 2006

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2006
HARVARD UNIVERSITY
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.


2 p.m.- Today. Today. I landed in Boston. (My hometown, people. I'm a certified, grade-A Masshole.) And I drove over to Cambridge and checked into the gorgeous Charles Hotel. To be frank, it's much too exquisite for artless me. I stared in, like, pure, cavewoman wonder at the television embedded(!)(?)(!!) in the bathroom mirror. My inner thought bubble went like this: "Cool...Sweet...Rad...TV in the mirror." And then it dawned on me: "Wait, this is no more than eight paces from the TV in the
bedroom!" I ask you, people: Is that really necessary? Must we really live in a culture where we must be within eight paces of the retard box at all times? Why don't we just get them embedded on our inner-eyelids and get it over with, already... Okay, sorry. I'm being too judgmental. And you feel kind of bad for that little, 'ole bathroom tv don't you? I mean, afterall, it's just doin' it's thing; doin' it's job; relaying "Top Chef" reruns while I brush my teeth... I'm sorry. I take it back...Anyway, these digs are dripping with tweedy, professorial-jokes and I love them. Take for instance the painting in my room: "Doug loved his own lectures." Hysterical. Incidentally, Doug, I also love my own lectures. The sound of my own voice: delightful.





3 p.m.- With a few spare hours on my hands, I reverted back to the angsty days of my youth, a time when I would come amble around Harvard Square for hours, smoking ciggies and flirting with teen-runaway panhandlers. And today,
I did it all: Oona's vintage, tea at LuLu's Tealuxe. The funniest thing happened while I was in the fitting room at Urban Outfitters. With my head halfway through a sweater, I overheard two girls chatting about my evening's event. One girl was all, "I love that book 'Smashed.'" And the other girl was all, "She's gonna be here at Harvard tonight. It's gonna be awesome! You should totally come." Well, I'll tell you. They must have seen my little feet freeze under the fitting room door. Even top-naked, I wasstunned.











6 p.m.- Come dinnertime, I got to head down to the Adams House to dine with Justin Micomonaco of Harvard's Residential Life Programs and a gorgeous gang of peer health educators. Over tofu (yes!), someone asked me if this was my first time at Harvard. My response? Roughly: "I spent a great deal of my youth here, drinking hard liquor out of brown paper bags and wandering around like Joe Pesci's homeless man character in 'With Honors.' But this is the first time you people have ever invited me inside."

8 p.m.- And, precisely like Joe Pesci's character in 'With Honors' I got to lecture at Harvard! Yes! Now I can die with dignity whilest underclassmen hold my hand and read me Walt Whitman.. Hell, I didn't care how many people showed up. Likewise, I didn't care who I was speaking to. The janitorial staff? Shit, bring it on... Just kidding. Those smarty pants Harvard students were the sweetest, most well-mannered crowd I've seen in a good long while. (Take note, you junior college banshees.) They even got my 'America's Next Top Model' jokes. Really, what more could I ask for?





While signing books afterward, I got to spend some time with my wildly inappropriate family. And I even got a few spare moments to hang with dear Stephen who drove much too far to see me.

Goodnight folks.
And remember...."Love means never having to say your sorry."





x Koren Barrett IV

P.S.- My pal CJ just interviewed me at Hecklerspray.com.

P.P.S.- I just gave you the longest blog in 'Smashed' history, people! You'd better start thinking about what you're gonna give me in return.

posted by Koren at 4:52 PM