Saturday, September 6, 2008

Hillary Has a Sense of Humor

My friend Hannah goes to Wagner, is in a sorority, and met Hillary Clinton yesterday. Then her and her "sisters" forced Hillz to make a silly "surprise face," which is apparently the signature of their sorority AOII. Hillary obliged! See below.


An Honest Question

Am I the only person in the world who finds it exceedingly impossible to be "just friends" with ex-boyfriends? I feel like once you've crossed that tenuous line of intimacy where you sleep together and fall asleep together and smoke cigarettes naked and watch an endless amount of bad cable television in bed and bitch about how your families don't get you, it's impossible to just sit across from them at a shitty downtown restaurant with a watery smile pasted on your face and ask how their classes are and if their little sister is still playing lacrosse.

If you are one of those amazing people who can see an ex-boyfriend without wanting to sleep with them or even just hold their hand, how on earth do you do it? Even if the relationship ended poorly I've never been able to be casual friends with someone I've dated. I either end up not speaking to them at all, or entertaining this strange concept of friends with benefits, only inevitably one of us ends up liking the other one more than we should, and eventually we're back to start. The only way to escape the cycle is to constantly remind yourself why you broke up or why you are dysfunctional as a couple, but that becomes especially difficult when you're spooning and listening to Iron and Wine. The reasons you ended things immediately seem so far away. We've changed, you tell yourselves, we're mature and fit better together now.

Here's a hint: No. You haven't, and you don't.

I think part of it is that I'm just lazy. It's much easier to fall into the intimacy and great sex that one craves by rekindling it with your ex-boyfriend than it is to go searching for those things in strangers. And even though I'm, well, "pre-dating" someone now, the idea of having to work so hard to eradicate awkwardness and establish lives that work smoothly in tandem seems so exhausting.

So I'm leaving the country! Boys are confusing and pretentious literary circles disappoint me so I'm fleeing the country so that I can find the exact same boys and the exact same pretentious, disappointing literary circles... only in French, which makes them sexier and more drunk and thus clearly better.

But really. Are any of you just friends with your ex-boyfriends/girlfriends? Enlighten me!


Thursday, September 4, 2008

Goddamn Sarah Palin

Ol' Crazy Eyes

I was going to write a whole long diatribe about how much I strongly dislike Sarah Palin, how her sarcasm and glibness are going to translate all wrong to middle America and give women in power an even worse name, how she completely reminds me of friends' moms in high school who would make you brownies but then make you pray before you could eat them and then make a comment about how your dress is a little short. Or, as Wonkette put it:

America, we’ve met Sarah Palin before. It was in junior high. She was that snarling evil god-obsessed nut who punished you constantly and enjoyed nothing more than torture — seeing you tortured, that is. And your parents would never quite believe it because she “seemed like a nice lady,” from a distance, with her squeaky voice.

Then Pareene wrote this and everything I ever had to say about Palin had immediately already been said.


Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Tuesday, September 2, 2008

The Betty Draper in Me

The other night in DC my faux-uncle and I were talking about relationships and the following conversation transpired:

ME: Do you ever date anybody you don't actually like?
MICHAEL: No, why would I do that at my age? (Ed. Note: He's only 29, BTW)
ME: I don't know. It seems easier in some ways.
MICHAEL: Why would you even do that at your age?
ME: Well, sometimes I like making out with people but I don't end up liking them that much.
MICHAEL: I'm sure you could find someone you like making out with and you like as a person.
ME: Mmm... I don't know... I haven't in awhile. Besides, if you only date people you don't really like, then when it ends you don't give a shit.
MICHAEL: What are you, an old, sad, abused housewife?

Mmm... maybe. I don't know. I think I'm slowly becoming one of those people who cares more about writing and school and getting drunk than developing romantic relationships. In short, I kind of feel like I'm becoming a stereotypical "guy." At the same time, I hate everything about casual sex/dating: the awkwardness, the wondering, the confusion. I wish I would just stumble upon someone whom I immediately mutually adored and it was like we'd been dating for years. I want hot sex AND intimacy, but I don't want to do any of the work to get there. I'm lazy. I kind of envision Paris as this cosmopolitan wine soaked place with lots of bridges and bicycles teeming with hot wild haired chainsmoking poets. But, um, that's how I envisioned New York, and I was sort of right, which was the problem, because if I've learned one thing it is this: DO NOT DATE POETS.

I leave you with wise words from Josh:

ME: This is the year you get a boyfriend. I can feel it.
JOSH: Well it's either "This is the year I get a boyfriend" or "This is the year I develop a Vicodin problem," so let's hope for the former.


Kyle Made This

Shameless Self-Promotion 3

Wow, September already! That means the start of classes, the buying of sweaters, and--in our Crazy Internet Age--everyone is doing more blog stuff! Many of my and Jess's friends maintain personal blogs, some of them awesome and some of them pretentious and rambling. (We'd like to think we're somewhere happily in the middle!) As Jess just pointed out, she'll be talking about Media and Other Important Things for NYULocal. Well, just so you're all aware, I am writing for the site too! I am a "daily blogger," which means that I blog once a week, but don't you dare call me a "weekly blogger" or else I won't, um...actaully, I guess that makes me a weekly blogger. My first day is Thursday, so check back to the site all throughout that day to see what I have to say on "city life." (And, like, read the site every other day too for some great posts from some great writers.)

Also, any suggestions? Anything in Manhattan you'd like to see me cover?


P.S. Yes, Jess was right, I'll be posting more soon. The apartment continues to look increasingly like a home--which is good, because I need that, because if I don't have a sense of place and center I freak out and write really long posts about how lonely and terrified I can feel--and classes started today. I guess I'm still in a bit of a transitional mode, but once I get the hang of my class schedule (that reminds me: I wonder when and where I have class tomorrow), balance that with work, and finish cleaning up the mess from our apartment party (SOMEBODY THREW UP ON THE STAIRS AND WE CLEANED IT TWO DAYS AGO BUT IT STILL SMELLS SO DISGUSTING EW), I'll be back. Blogging is my hot, hot sex.

Shameless Self Promotion Part 2

NYU Local is going to be cool. I know I called it NYU Lolcal but I think now that we've solidified our mission and secured a pretty talented team of writers and redesigned the site, it should be awesome. I am serving as the Media Critic, and also will be contributing to the Opinions section, under Mr. Joe Coscarelli and Mr. Ned Resnikoff, respectively.

My first media crit article is up and it is, of course, about Rachel Maddow. Check it out.


Fuck. It's September.

So yes, I'm back, and in one piece. Aside from the whole almost dying in a car accident, the trip was incredible. It's amazing how vast and beautiful this country is. In one day we'd drive through corn fields, deserts, plains and mountains. We stopped at strange rest areas with maps of Missouri and Oklahoma and Arizona, backwater hometown boys and girls pawning fake Native American memorabilia among the stench of Dairy Queen hamburgers and dully burning fireworks. We had a picnic at Lake Tahoe and got to talk with a climatologist in Los Alamos, where the Atom Bomb was constructed, about the environment. (His conclusion: it's not looking good. At all.) We met governors (Ed Rendell! David Patterson!) and political pundits and drove fast and far on caffeine pills, huge cups of cheap McDonalds coffee and inexpensive cartons of cigarettes from various midwestern states. The nation peeled open for us and we were excited to inspect every part of it. I learned patience and appreciation. We drove a stick shift in San Francisco and got pulled over by Nebraska state police and saw sheep huddled in a grove attempting to escape the rain in Wyoming. We got altitude sick in Denver and drunk in Iowa City and ran terrified from a methhead in Oklahoma City. It was strange, lovely, a big beautiful blur. Now home, with my dog and a nice big cup of Dunkin Donuts coffee, it almost feels like it didn't happen. 15 days, 7,000 miles, a few near-death experiences, but mostly it just brought us closer to life, which sounds corny, but it's true, and I think if Kerouac hadn't killed himself with all those drugs and all that dissatisfaction he'd probably be proud of us, mostly just because we survived.

I have a lot I want to talk about: Sarah Palin (wtf?), my experience at the DNC in Denver, and I have this whole diatribe ready on why I end up dating people I don't really like. I'm readying myself for my departure for Paris on Monday, and I am just a little bit terrified, but terribly excited too.

Josh started school today (I can't believe it's September ughhh) so once he gets settled he'll be back to posting more too. I keep picturing my friends milling around Washington Square, waiting for the Silver elevators, standing in that absurdly long line consisting primarily of freshman at Starbucks on the Square, and I feel really homesick for New York and for the twinge of nervous excitement that takes over on the first day of school. But Paris will be wonderful, and New York will always be there, thankfully, happily.


Sunday, August 31, 2008

Home Again

Back from our trip and exhausted. Spent last night in Washington DC and 100 miles from home Alyssa and I got into a pretty bad car accident on I-95. Everyone is fine physically, we're just really shaken up. I'll write about it more later as it was definitely one of the most terrifying experiences of my life, but for now I'm so happy to be home safe watching Mad Men that I'm going to put off all of my writing deadlines and Paris worries until tomorrow.