Worst Week Ever Archive 1

As promised here is the first op-ed column I ever wrote for the Wesleyan Argus. Ah, when I could get things done on time...

Worst Week Ever: Age After Beauty By Calvin Cato

After four years of deliberation and failed manuscript ideas, I have decided that I should have a column devoted to me and my big mouth. Nothing too praiseworthy of course, just something that will strike at the heart of pop culture, and have my name prominently listed at the top of each article. I want a column where style meets substance and says "See ya!" So under the influence of too little sleep, too many mind-altering drugs, and just a dash of VH1, I have come up with this: Worst Week Ever. It is a completely biased and unfair look at today's society, where idle jabs and catty swipes are commonplace. It is where I stop being polite and start getting real. Names just might be changed to protect the guilty but funny events go in as is. Now that we've got our little intros out of the way, let's talk about who's having the best week ever: freshmen. All young and wide-eyed and reeking of cheap vodka. They think they can do it all: classes, parties, acting performances, activist dinners, Argus journalism. Overachievers. When will they learn and become as bleary-eyed and lazy as I am? Everywhere I go, hordes of frosh couples are attached at the mouth, standing in the middle of the dance floor like erotic moaning totem poles. Can we make up a new word for this phenomenon? And everyone on campus wants the freshmeat, I mean freshmen and freshwomen. Who are we upper-classmen kidding? We have become the vultures at the parties, swooping down to grasp the just drunk enough frosh who has strayed away from the herd. Sigh! How did I get so old? Now I'm starting to get how the class of '03 felt when I was running around in short shorts and crushed velour screaming "Go Wes! Free booze!" And recently, we've just passed WSA election time, which really is only fun for the freshmen. Let's face it: Freshmen aren't elected based on platforms or innovative ideas. It's all about popularity—and being popular feels good. High school popularity contests may have revolved around conformity but here in college, it's the exact opposite. By being crazier and more of a misfit than the next guy, girl, trans, wymmyn, etc., you Herr Frosh get to come out on top and feel good about the fact that you excel at being the cracked-out person you could never be in high school. Because it's cool to be yourself, isn't it frosh? So who is having the worst week ever? Me! And quite possibly alternate universal versions of me. I still need to unpack, I oversleep for 7p.m. class, I have to plan out my rapidly approaching future, and I just can't find the time in my schedule of intense bong hit sessions and frivolous drinking to do anything productive. Now of course, I could have made my week better by not procrastinating and abusing substances, but that's just not as fun. I just find it completely unfair that I'm stuck in the ST Lab every weeknight surviving on Pi Café coffee and a rock-hard croissant while these freshmen are able to finish their work in five minutes, roll a joint on Foss Hill and see Bill Clinton's face in a cumulus cloud. Not to mention the copious amounts of awkward exchanges I've racked up over the years. For me, the path between Campus Center and Fisk Hall is a social guillotine. I can't walk down that Death Alley path without breaking out in nervous hives or whipping out my cell phone in order to avoid making eye contact with the offending individuals. At this point, I may have to paper bag my face between classes to avoid seeing the people I would rather not talk to. Oh frosh, you may think you know uncomfortable exchanges; it takes a full year here to understand the true meaning of "Oh God, why are you still here?!" I'll admit it; I'm jealous of you freshpeople. You've got a whole four years of drunken debauchery and awkward hook-ups ahead of you. To you, this campus is your oyster. Everyone loves you and adores you and wants you at all their parties. Soak it all in. You deserve to feel good about yourselves. And although my week is lousy, I have to smile when I see some freshperson dancing around campus in ballerina shoes and fairy wings, yelling "I love Wes!" at the top of his/her/hir lungs.

My Complete And Utter Bad

Hey, sorry for not updating this. First off, I have to make a public apology. I was supposed to have an article in my school's newwspaper this Tuesday and I completely dropped the ball. It was really fucked up and I am so sorry. I've been trying to juggle too many things and I will do two articles for the price of none! To anyone reading this blog, I've got advice. Make sure you stick with your schedules and don't hand in malformed crap, because you will get cut from the newspaper! Deadlines are important people. But I will write two articles and both will debut on this site. The first one will be about commitments (obviously!)...the second will be about comedy.

In The Beginning

It's a sad day when I have to reset a blog for the third time. I'm just bad at consistently writing in a public log. Hell, I'm not even that good at writing in my journal (like pen and paper). Perhaps it's just age (because I'm such a dinosaur at 22).

Anyway why am I doing this? Ostensibly it's to make announcements of my life and what-not. I'm not going to lie though; I really just need this as a place for me to put up the various things I've written for other media. Also, I will use this space to sharpen up my writing skills, so they'll be on the edge.

Also in a shameless plug (for the five people out there who will actually read this) I am now the host of a stand-up comedy show at a sweet-ass lounge in New York City (Lower East Side!!!).

Here are some details:
WHEN: Thursdays (starts October 5th)
TIME: 8PM - 10:00 PM
PLACE: East Village Lounge
186 East 2nd Street between Avenue A and B
COST: No cover!!!!!!!!!!! (Buy one $4-5 drink)

Finally, I was gang-raped by a bunch of mosquitoes and I am now wearing a sock on my arm.

Tune in soon; my next couple of posts will be old articles from the Wesleyan Argus that I wrote. Consolidation is fun! Can you tell I'm delirious from cold medication?