Ok, it's 7am and I'm up thinking about the fact that I have to write 2 business plans and a marketing plan. I don't really feel like doing any of it. It's so hard to stay motivated but I'm determined.
Sorry about the short post on the gala. I actually posted a much longer piece, but when i pasted the picture of Floetry, something happened and I lost the whole thing. I was slightly annoyed to say the least and didn't really have the energy or time to write it all again. Thanks to everyone that came and supported. It was a great time.
It's amazing how grown we look when we play dress up. lol.
On another note, Gillette has invited me back for final round interviews this Friday. I'm happy at the invitation, the timing is rough though. I head out to Boston Thurs nite. Interview at 8:30am for 3 hours and basically head back to the airport. I'm going to try and see the family but I don't think that it will happen. So that may have to wait until next week.
oh yeah, finally. Check out this story from the Sunday NY Times:
November 14, 2004
By C. J. HUGHES
It could be the setup for a borscht-belt belly laugh: A few
business school students walk into a bar, thinking they're
funny enough to do stand-up.
But seriously folks. It's true. An open-mike event,
"Columbia Business School Comedy Night" has packed the
rafters at the Stand-Up NY Comedy Club on West 78th Street,
just off Broadway, at its twice yearly shows, like the one
held last week.
At these shows, in two-drink-limit-land, a handful of
aspiring Columbia M.B.A.'s try to get the audience laughing
without resorting to punch lines about emerging markets,
balance sheets or Enron.
"It would be too easy to joke about that kind of stuff,"
said Shadan Deleveaux, a Comedy Night regular. Instead, his
sets typically focus on "real life stuff," like how to get
through post-Sept. 11 airport security with a name like
his. And maybe he can also tweak perceptions about the
biz-school geek.
"It lets everyone know that we're not just eggheads
crunching numbers," he said.
Mr. Deleveaux gives much of the credit for this
image-adjustment campaign to his classmate Paul Horrocks,
who serves as an Ivy League impresario, adding professional
comics to the club's bill to keep things funny.
Mr. Horrocks himself performs about three times a week at
comedy nights around the city, and next month, he will
begin teaching a five-week class to would-be Columbia
comics. In the meantime, he may need to boost confidence
levels among his existing crop of comics.
On Monday, at the third Columbia comedy night, all the
students who were supposed to take part backed out, citing
potential on-campus embarrassment, Mr. Horrocks said
(though Mr. Deleveaux, pleading excess homework, claimed it
was just because he's strapped for time).
That left only Mr. Horrocks. Undaunted, he climbed up on
the tiny, dimly lit stage at Stand-Up NY, his usual poker
face disappearing to the thunderous applause of the
80-member audience.
His material on this night? Vomit on the subway. Biblical
rap during church. Apostle trading cards with communion
wafers included. The awkwardness of complimenting a
friend's breast augments.
Despite an intense focus on figuring their checks to last
penny, the student audience was impressed, as was at least
one nonstudent. "He was always a pretty serious guy in the
office," said John Yapaola, Mr. Horrocks's former boss.
"Then again, there's no time to be funny in an office."