Saturday, January 3, 2009

Punch Me In The Ovaries, Please

I have always hated kids. They are loud and whiny and I do not know how to interact with them: I end up speaking to them like they are adults, they get bored with me very quickly and we both move on. But for some reason these past few weeks I have had this desire to pop out a goddamn CHILD.

It is completely impractical, unfeasible, ridiculous for me to feel that way at 20 years old, a woman like me who is such a feminist, so ambivalent about monogamy, so pro-sex and experimental. I used to not even believe in marriage. Now I know that it is not something meant to last forever, at least not for a girl like me, but I know that I want to get married, and have babies, and have a house where everything is happy and nice and warm. I would be a fool to think things would stay that way but it would be nice while it lasted. And then the kids would grow up and my husband and I would move on to other lovers and we could look back and sigh and say, "Wasn't it lovely?"

It's not even about vanity, in fact the world would probably be a worse place with half-Jessicas running around, but when babies smile my heart fucking explodes and I want one to smile at me and god I hate that when it comes down to it we are all just biology, atoms and neurons, chemicals and hormones. I will not have kids, or even consider marriage, for at least another 10 years, but why does my body make me feel as if I should? I'm fucking 20 and a bunch of people I know from high school are MARRIED already. Why, at 20, am I already paranoid of being alone? I look down at my naked left ring finger and this feeling of panic overtakes me. What the hell is that about? Half society, half biology perhaps but it's not me AT ALL. Ask any of my friends. Am I this powerless in the face of group mentality? God forbid I'm ever invited to hoard weapons to fend against the end of the world in an underground shelter in Montana, I'd apparently be there in a second. And I know I have always been too old for my age but wouldn't it be nice instead of getting high and watching Family Guy tonight to put the kids to bed early and watch a movie with your husband and then have sex that is still good and not yet mechanical? Do you think I could find something like that on Craigslist? Oh, heh, I guess it's called "babysitting and letting the kids' Dad feel you up in the family room." =/


Craigslist Predicts My Future, Only More Honestly

This guy is like the person I'll end up marrying except my husband won't be this honest about the fact that he's insane:

Not exactly Russell Crowe in one of the movies like Gladiator where women find him super manly and sexy and irresistible. More like in A Perfect Mind where he is all fucked up and crazy and needy but also a mega-genius. I'm more like that.

I will marry and make babies with a sweet woman who is honest and caring and patient and can deal with that.


Only European Robbers Would Do This

So polite.


God Hates Me

He must! He knows how much I love my laptop, so every few months he graces me with his earthly presence and breaks it. Or else it's my complete disregard for technological care--hard to tell, really.

This is probably the fifth or sixth time my laptop has succumbed to its tragic, little, virtual cancers. I even tried doing fsck but it just kept telling me the number of keys was incorrect and that my kernel was bad, or something. I'm glad my laptop still works well enough to make me feel like an idiot.

Anyway, I'm typing this up on my mom's (really old like it has one of those plug-in chargers instead of the magnetic ones) iBook, which I will obviously not bring back with me to New York. (Oh yeah, I'm home for the weekend.) So unless my laptop magically decides to fix itself, or, I don't know, God intervenes again, I probably won't be able to update as much until I bring it to the Genius Bar. The fucking Genius Bar.


Friday, January 2, 2009

Maybe I Could Be Someone's Consultant

I still have yet to find a new job. Boo hoo. But I keep seeing the same few jobs reappear on CareerNet, NYU's own personal Monster. So while I may not always know what exactly works in terms of applying for a job, at this point I consider myself an expert on what doesn't work for employers trying to appeal to students. Here are a few things to keep in mind, Mrs. Future-Boss Lady. And I'm doing you this service for free, to boot:

1. No, I cannot work 40-50 hours a week. This is CareerNet, remember? I'm a student. While I know that NYU alumni can also access the site, a surprising number of jobs "for undergraduates only" have ridiculous time commitments that could only be met by someone who regularly skips class and doesn't give a shit about school in the first place, and who wants to hire someone like that? If you need someone to work full-time, don't expect Hayden to come calling.

2. Do not tell me your job/internship/sharecropping position is "paid" and then include a ten-dollar-a-day stipend. I wish I were kidding, but I've seen this more than once. If it's an unpaid position, fine, there are plenty of kids at NYU who can afford to do that. But if you're gonna pay your student employee, pay him well. Or at least adequately. Or at least more than ten dollars a day. This also signals you to be dishonest and manipulative, and we haven't even met for an interview yet.

3. Do not withhold your information. If I don't know what company you are, how can I do research on you before coming in for an interview? Plus, it's really shady and suggests that you don't want me to know who you are. One time I applied for an anonymous counter position at a "cute cafe by Union Square," but it was really a pizza place. Beggars can't be choosers, but let me know what I'm begging for first, kay?

4. No, I cannot come in Christmas Day. I have the rest of my life to unhappily work through the holidays; let me enjoy my ability to take week-long vacations every few months while it lasts.

I know, I know, I don't have a job (well, won't have a job in a couple weeks), so I shouldn't be picky. But if I'm going to give one-hundred-and-ten percent to a job, I want to know that said job's employer has equal passion for diligence, transparency, and reason. These are not outrageous demands; frankly, they should be common courtesy, but then again, you have a job and I don't, so maybe I need to learn a thing or two. But seriously, ten dollars a day?


Is Your Man Gay?

Answer: If you need to take a stupid Internet test to find out, then he probably is. Go ahead, though, and see for yourself. Never mind that those answers rely on tired, borderline-offensive stereotypes:

I know, stupid things on the Internet--shocking. But I don't even get the point of this quiz's "entertainment value." Is anyone actually trying to find out if their boyfriend wants a boyfriend? Or is it just a big gay joke? When I can't tell, I'm a little offended. And clearly bored.


P.S. Okay, I have to give them credit for one thing. That guy in the picture is such a perfect is-he-or-isn't-he model. Would it be desperate to admit I'm kind of into him? If so, then never mind.

Is My Mother Going Crazy?

Answer: MaybeShe's always been New Agey, but she also told me she ordered this.

...what the hell?


Thursday, January 1, 2009

New Year, New Bruises

Last night, 20 seconds before midnight, I wiped out while wearing these shoes,

slipped on black ice and broke the shattering fall to the pavement with my FACE. In a few days' time I shall look like a battered housewife. When the clock struck midnight I was clutching my face and trying not to cry/actually crying. This does not bode well for 2009, or else, it was just a real BANG ending for 2008. Either way I'm clumsy and no one should let me combine 4 inch heels, dangerous winter weather and alcohol.

Anyway. Thanks to everyone who came to the party. It was stellar and sorry we started vacuuming at 2am; we thought it'd be a subtle hint that we wanted to go to sleep. DEADBEAT US. Whoever opened the confetti is not allowed back because it took 2+ hours to clean up using tools such as: vacuums, Swiffer Wet Jets, brooms, dustpans and dustbusters. So yeah: Fuck you confetti opener, whoever you were.

HAPPY 2009.

Wednesday, December 31, 2008

A Sign of the Apocalypse

That means tonight at our New Year's party, Miley Cyrus will disappear from my TV screen at exactly 12:00:01 a.m. NOOOOOO!!!


JOSH'S UPDATE: Never mind they reached a deal! Ha ha now we can go back to bashing The City without feeling bad.

Daft Kanye Hands

Can't figure out how to embed it, but this is so fucking cool.

Email From My Mom

"This is what's going on on our street today."

LOL, Philly, you are still such a shithole <3


No Surprise There

The same friend of mine who gave us some gossip on Chase and Ed awhile ago, texted me a little something about Ms. Olivia Palermo, as requested:

I just read your post. I've met Olivia a few times and she is just as fake in person as she seems on the show.



(Josh's note: We all probably knew this already, but it's nice to get some confirmation. I'll bet you could say this about everyone on the show. Our culture is great!)

New Year, Same Old Ish

I know my updates have been less frequent as of late; I'm still getting used to friends being back and saying goodbye to others and trying to find a new job and all sorts of stuff like that. I was going to make a big long post reflecting on the past year and explaining my ways, but I am frankly not in the mood for such a task and will instead present to you a short list of my New Year's resolutions. You know, to hold me accountable or something. Read mine, then post yours!

1. Stop being so judgmental--I know, it's like asking the sun not to shine, but I have a tendency to either embrace or dismiss people right away, and that's both socially unhealthy as well as a means by which I may pass over potentitally great friends. 2009 will be the year of second chances and forgiveness!

2. Start working out again--Yes, I (chain) smoke, and I don't know about cutting back on cigarettes, but I do know that I need to get back to the gym. Freshman year I was something of a workout-a-holic, but I kind of gave that up sophomore year in favor of drinking alone and walking everywhere. Except I don't walk everywhere and drink maybe once or twice a week, so I have no excuse. Maybe I'll cut back on the tobacco too, but let's start by getting my ass back to Coles! Or a private gym, if my amazing super-cool awesome parents would be willing to pay for it. Spoiled and sporty! Happy 2009!

3. Do more with my writing--So...I want to be a writer. (Well, among other things.) Yet the only place I regularly write is on this blog. I want to maybe write things for other Web sites, or at least the NYU literary magazine. No, not just for the byline, but because I've recently realized that I haven't stretched my writing muscles in too long. My creative writing workshop will help, but since I spend so much time online anyway, why not write shit? So if you want to pay me to write reviews of Madonna songs or something, that'd be lovely. Thanks.

4. I will not write "get a boyfriend." I will not write "get a boyfriend." I will not write "get a boyfriend." I will not write "get a boyfriend." I will not write "get a boyfriend." I will not write "get a boyfriend."

5. Be the very best person I can be! ^__^

Just kidding this one is totally about being better with money.


Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Home Sweet Home

So I am back in New York and it is wholly bizarre. There's this strange juxtaposition between feeling entirely at home in the familiarity of it all, and also feeling like I need to learn everything all over again. The city has most certainly changed. Huge "For Sale" and "Out of Business" signs deck the halls in lieu of bows of holly. I accidentally walked down to Forsyth when trying to get from Broome Street to First Street. I've forgotten how to navigate a grid and I'm not sure it's the fact that there's some Parisian in me now or that I just smoke too much pot. The first night I got here, Sunday, I wandered up 2nd Avenue amazed at the fact that everything was open, that there were people out on the streets, that it was a balmy 60 degrees in New York in the winter and things seemed virginal, honestly untouched, just the same as I had left them. But thing are not the same! At least not in the way I experience them. There are wisps of French everywhere in this city that I never noticed before: the church near here is playing French films; the girls in the dressing room next to me at H&M yesterday were chattering away en Francais. What is so cool about having lived in Paris for four months is not that I can spend the rest of my life missing it (which I'm sure I will), but instead that everything I learned there applies to life here. In New York. A New York perhaps Whitney Port wants to ruin.

But the French Dream is over. Back to real life, to internet 24/7, to being constantly available via e-mail or cell phone, to soy milk (!) and delivery. The economic crisis is no longer this large, haunting thing, shrouded in mist, looming grand across some giant ocean. Now it is right in my lap and I hear snippets of conversations about losing homes and jobs and cutting costs and it is terrifying because for the first time in my life I am going to be impacted by something monetarily driven more serious than my weekly allowance. Now I will have trouble finding a job to pay for school and my parents will have trouble paying tuition and goddamn John Sexton will raise tuition so as to continue the glorious trope of obliterating the middle class that has been uplifted these past eight years.

But there is also Hope. And Progress. And Change. And all those buzzwords plastered across a posterized version of our valiant President Elect. I have confidence in Obama, more than I ever have in a political leader. My formative years coincided with the Bush administration -- and I will save the bulk of this for another post -- but that has certainly impacted my outlook on government, on society, on life in general.

One good thing about being away from New York for so long is that when you return, everything seems new. The coffee at Little Veselka tastes better. The tourists still growl at me when I viciously elbow them out of the way on Broadway! The sun feels warmer and more welcoming. The shouts coming from trannies and hobos from outside Josh's apartment on 1st and 1st lull me gently to sleep. I can never sleep with silence, and now I have the ambulances back to provide obnoxious background noise that makes me feel right at home. Because I am home! New York is my home! And I am very, very glad to be back.


The City (According to Art Dealers' Kids, Cokeheads and Whitney Port)

The City was despicable and I cannot wait to watch all the delicious drama unfold; or, at the very least, drool over Whitney's ensembles. At least they acknowledged it was fake by having glamour shots woven into the opening credits.

I have a few things to say about this newest and most wonderful series of "reality TV:"

1. Are we seriously supposed to believe Olivia Palermo has a job? As an intern-type person who leads Rosario Dawson into DVF fashion shows? Who has a cubicle? LOL.
2. Thank god for the West Side Story plotline of Uptown vs. Downtown. I'm glad we could use dazed, glossy twenty-somethings to illustrate a Billy Joel song.
3. Jay = Justin-Bobby and Whitney has fallen from my good graces to goddamn Audrina status. Apparently all The Hills and The City are trying to prove is that even if you're a dumb Playboy wannabe (Audrina) or a gorgeous USC grad (Whitney) you become a useless glob of Misogynist-Encouraging Jello in the hands of a mop-headed guy with dimples.
4. Alixe is my new goddess. Her cheekbones can cut hunks of Cheddar into perfectly shredded dairy delights.
5. Kelly Cutrone is still my hero and thank you for pointing out that Olivia Palermo DOES NOT AND WOULD NEVER HAVE A FUCKING JOB.
6. Speaking of Olivia Palermo, I can't tell if I'm supposed to like her or hate her. I mean, I obviously detest everything about her, but does she know she's playing the villain and is exacerbating the bitch inside or-- good god-- is she really like that? Has anyone ever met her? DO TELL.
7. I really hope both Lauren and Brody make guest appearances on the show since The City frequently referenced The Hills. It's so clearly a show solely for Hills fans and I'm not sure it's going to be good enough to maintain that entire audience. At least it's better than Bromance. Don't get me started on that piece of anti-woman shit (but Brody's smile..!)

The show did sort of touch upon something I find to be true: it does feel like, to some extent, everyone knows each other-- or at least knows of each other-- in New York. Manhattan is (sometimes unbearably) tiny compared to most other major American cities and it means you see the same people constantly. (Especially if you read about them online) Manhattan is kind of like a tiny high school where everyone knows each other; I think it was Jonathan Franzen that wrote something about how you can be anonymous and yet surrounded by people you know in NY.

As for the rest of the "issues" the show brought up, I truly hope those watching from outside New York really do think that people get out of cabs with their necks craned at awkward angles to ogle at the tops of shiny buildings, and that you will work with a socialite at a low-level PR job, and that all the guys look like Jay. Keep on dreamin, friends.


Monday, December 29, 2008

Same Old New Year's

So I'm totally excited for our upcoming New Year's party! Except part of me isn't, at all, because I hate holiday parties, because they never--never--live up to expectations.

Be it Halloween or Valentine's Day, parties that fall on holidays are supposed to be more fun because "It's a holiday OMG!" only that really doesn't change anything and the same people with the same PBR are there and you're still single and maybe the host put up a few decorations from Party City but the excitement surrounding the holiday itself is false and will therefore bring down the party mood. When everyone expects something amazing, it rarely works out that way.

All of which is to say: come! Please! Or have fun doing whatever else you've got planned! But remember that it won't be a New Year's party so much as a convenient excuse to get together and drink (a lot.) Keep your expectations low and your inhibitions lower! After all, isn't that the true spirit of the holidays?


Our Hero

Please view the full gallery of this man's achievement to grow every beard type. It is glorious.


P.S. We're realllly officially on break mode here at the blog. In case you couldn't tell.

For Some Reason...

...I find this hysterical right now.


Classic eBooks

Just stumbled on the best thing ever: for all those books you know you should read but you can never end up parting with the $15 at Borders. They even have The Great Gatsby! Of course, you might go blind from staring at the computer screen before you can finish a virtual version of Ulysses.