2011: It's Gonna Be Wild

Due to the influx of hours being put in at the-place-that-will-not-be-named I have been unable to sit down, devoid of exhaustion and frustration to just write. Hence, I have not written in over two weeks which is appalling to say the least.
Life has been throwing me some hard balls recently (I'll pause for laughter). With the impending new year, though, I have decided that rather than wallow in self-pity and curse the universe for taking a personal vendetta against me in the name of some unspeakable necessity making my life a comedic-tragedy, I am going to power through it. 2010 was a year of growth, a year of surprises and downfalls, triumphs and questions. It was the year I made some amazing friends and lost some crazy ones- The year I truly began to understand what it was to be an adult and flee full speed away from its morbid, depressing implications- The year I began to discover myself (in a non sexual way... perverts)- The year of new experiences and the end of wistful beginnings- The year of clarity and absurd disillusionment. All in all, as are the years before and will be the years coming, 2010 has offered yet another modicum of knowledge and has brought me that much closer to inevitable death. Let's be real people. Every year that ball drops is another year chipped off of your lifeline. Oh, plus 2012 is like right around the corner. I'm just a bundle of sunshine today, aren't I?!
Anyway, I'm excited for the amazing possibilities in store for 2011 (plus, I get to wear these awesome sequined shorts, all in the name of the new year). Next year is going to be amazing. I can feel it. Can you feel it?


I'm out.

Wait!

Some fun facts about 2011...

-The United Nations has dubbed it as International Year of Forests.... hm, although with the current climate change may have to be changed to The Year of The Ever Encroaching Inevitable Wasteland If We Don't Start Really Loving The Three Rs... although, that may be a bit long. Maybe just Year of The Wasteland would suffice. It has a Cummings ring to it I enjoy. And it's also the Year of Chemistry... hm, maybe change that to The Year of The Science We Need In Order To Survive The Year of The Wasteland... that has a lovely apocalyptic overtone.

-Estonia is finally going to adopt the Euro, those stubborn bastards (I know nothing about this, please consider my insurmountable ignorance on the topic of foreign currency... or any currency really), note my current predicament: broke college graduate. I have joined the ranks of the cliched story of old. Sigh. I should've been a lawyer.

-Men's World Ice Hockey Championships will be held in Slovakia... and no one will care.

-The hottest, most eligible bachelor will be roped into a stifling, endless relationship with some chick (Prince William is getting married to some floozy)

-The International Olympic Committee will decide where the 2018 Winter Olympics will be held. And, again, no one will care except for the poor (eeysh,probably literally), freezing country it will be held in. They will quickly realize that housing a whole bunch of crazy athletes probably wasn't the best idea. They eat a lot. They're demanding. They probably drink a lot. Wait. Who are they? Me?

-And most importantly, in 2011 I will quite possibly turn on the heat in my apartment and not freeze to near-death every night.

For more fun facts about the upcoming year visit this site where you can also see fantastic photos of Jimmy Wales. I swear there's a new picture of him everyday. It's unnerving.

F*CK YOU

Not literally. I mean, that's just blind hostility. I'm dedicating a post to this new Cee Lo song because it's incredible. Every once in a while the mainstream will be blindsided by ridiculous talent and forced to realize the ever-deteriorating state of the music industry and its notoriously awful superstars. Every time Cee Lo comes out with something it's refreshing and just so darned good. This song in particular has me stupidly singing along and wanting to listen to it over and over again despite my aversion to listening to songs on repeat... it kinda drives me nuts. With this upbeat tempo and catchy, not to mention controversial, lyrics Cee Lo has once again blown my mind and relieved me of the insurmountable stress that has been accumulating in the past few weeks. Thank you, Cee Lo. Music is such a wonderful thing... when it's done right.


SO GOOD. Karaoke anyone?!

This is also exciting.


Ugh. sigh.

I LOVE YOU.
image from americansongrwriter.com



I need this album! I don't think I've been excited about an album in a while...


I'm out.

I Got Skinned

I have been watching an unhealthy amount of Skins and I believe it's having a strange affect on how I view the world now. Staying up into the wee hours of the morning watching episodes in segments has begun taking a toll on my perception of reality. More and more in social situations everything around me just seems to blur, altering my inhibitions. At certain points of the night it seems like I am in some sort of syndicated TV show, following a well thought out script, interacting with other enthusiastic actors. Then, I don't feel so constricted by societal normalcy and become more comfortable actually doing/saying what I want.
I'm still unsure if this revelation in me is good or bad, but it's something. I've been feeling like that dumb, impressionable teenager that blindly follows trends, but I've also been feeling even more comfortable in my own skin (ba dum ching!). Maybe a dose of some twisted, teenage drama can put things into perspective and help people just relax. I guess what I'm trying to say here is there needs to be a summit where all the leaders of the world are required to watch skins seasons 1-4. It may make the world a better place.

image from collide.com


Oh and I don't even want to discuss the abomination that is going to be airing on MTV soon that is basically the same thing but Americanized (trashier?). Why must we ruin a good thing? This travesty should also be discussed at said summit.


I'm out.

Fist Pump Racists Away

So it seems no matter where I go, no matter what ideological differences I think exists amongst "sub cultures," everyone seems to be the same when it comes to race. Last night I was in line for the bathroom at Splash (a gay bar in the city, near Union Square) and was bombarded by stupidity from this guy who announced he was from DC. After complimenting me sweetly he went on a nonsensical tirade about how he was a "liberal humanitarian" and how he enjoyed meeting a "sistah" in DC, which turned out to be Maya Angelou. The appalling way in which he told me about his love for notable black women was enough to make me throw up all the food I ingested that day. I stood there, staring at him in disbelief, wishing I had enough strength to tell him how incredibly ignorant he was being, but alas, I did not. Instead this guy I had been secretly judging because he looked and sounded like he rolled out of an episode of Jersey Shore saved me. He had been listening to this drunken, bumbling idiot and thankfully interjected, asking the guy to guess his heritage, to which the a-hole strangely responded, "She's my assistant." I theatrically shook my head "no" to let him know I was not affiliated with this moron. Jersey Shore asked me if the guy was bothering me and I mouthed yes with a kind of desperation I never knew I had. He then somehow got the guy to go away by continuously asking him to guess his racial identity. At this point, I too was trying to resolve the question, in my head. Eventually the drunken fool got the clue and stumbled out of the bathroom. Jersey Shore told me I was beautiful and that I didn't need to take that insolence from anyone. He then whipped a comb out and fixed his hair, blew a kiss at the mirror and walked out. Okay, that last part didn't happen, but I imagined it in my head. I wish he did do that. He just walked away with an air of knowing and understanding. He was like Buddha. What a guy.

In case you were wondering, Jersey Shore was Asian.


I'm out.

Thanksgiving and Black Friday

Every year I make a point to comment on the ridiculousness of this holiday. In general I dislike traditions that have become consumerist parasites that eat away at our society. By now, we should all know that what went down at Plymouth Rock or whatever, was not some stupid, playful sing-a-long amongst the pilgrims and the Indians but a brutal, violent slaughter that scars the history of this country. Can you believe that we were taught the Indians and pilgrims actually got along?! That they had this adorable outdoor potluck where they exchanged recipes and played mancala. It's absolutely unnerving.
This year I could not go see my family in Florida because I HAVE TO WORK TOMORROW. It's one of those infuriating (un)necessary sacrifices I had to make because of poor planning and because my absence could cost me my job.
BLACK FRIDAY
The epitome of everything I hate about this country. A telling, unfiltered look into consumerism and selfishness. At 2 am sleepy shoppers will be arising in hopes of finding "great deals" on clothing, books, accessories, food, bedding, household appliances, furniture, electronics, cds and dvds, tools and an assortment of stupid garbage that feeds into the notion that you are what you have. Running around stores with a look of fiery desperation burning in their eyes, people will kick slap and scream their way down aisles, through shelves, on counter tops in hopes of attaining every deal they can. Meanwhile, corporations are laughing atop their pedestals of cutthroat success at the masses kill each other for a tickle-me-elmo. And there I shall stand, somberly in the midst of violent confusion asking myself "why?" and wondering when everything went wrong.

image from this guy theblogprof.blogspot.com

Happy Thanksgiving.


I'm out.

Not...AGAIN

In an earlier entry I wrote about the annoying inevitability of white people talking about race with me when they're drunk. It happens more often then not, when randomly the color of my skin becomes the subject of a joke or an inane observance, "You're the only black girl in the corner of this bar," when there are plenty of people of color everywhere else. Though, I attempt to be forgiving and understanding of the intolerably candid people who probably barely talk about race in their sober lives, it gets tiring. In this instance, I was (un)pleasantly accompanied by a fellow patron at the bar I was at on a walk home. Granted, his chivalry skills were not to be ignored, his common sense was considerably hindered. It was comical how he continuously made one insulting statement after the other. Wanting so ardently to blame his completely inappropriate, prejudice remarks on alcohol, I simply cannot relieve him of his blatant racial remarks. I shall lists the ways in which he offended me:

"You don't seem like you've been tainted by the ghetto."

"I see bloods and crypts everywhere." The he tells me this story where a (obviously) black man tells him to through up the bloods sign and then laughs when he does. I mean, the guys obviously laughing because the kid looked like he was going to piss himself and threw up some garbled sign he believed to signify the bloods. Freaking moron. The guy's lived in Brooklyn 3 years, in which I am sure he would have not acquired a comprehensive understanding of the history of the boloods and crypts especially considering his profound stupidity.

"I'm not trying to sound racist."


"People usually say things when they see a white guy walking with a black girl down the street. I had a black girlfriend and guys would always yell at us and she would yell back."

"I get scared when my sister comes to visit."


I kid you not, this bumbling idiot was spilling all of this garbage all over my ears, nauseating and angering me, and all I could do was be shocked by his ignorance. Not once did he seem to feel any humiliation or remorse about the outwardly offensive things he was saying. AND THEN HIS DUMBASS tried to friend me on facebook. You have GOT to be kidding me. Ugh, what a loser.



I'm too speechless to write anymore *awkward laughter*





I'm out.

(/) wrting (/)

I've been wondering exactly what it is that has been preventing me from achieving my dreams and the simple answer has been: Me... and the millions of others who have the same passion as I do... and the ever-depleting job opportunities in the bleak writing industry... and the rise of the "blogging age." After graduating from college I had higher hopes for myself as a writer. I was hoping to make a career out of something I love, not be thrust into a mediocre job with little to no gratification and long hours dealing with selfish, needy people and a laughable salary.
Now, don't get me wrong, I love my blog. That is also not to say that I am displeased with the enthusiasm in which people are starting new blogs and getting across their ideas to an audience. However, I am envious (almost to the point of violence: note, flailing and cussing in disbelief) of blogs that have made names for themselves and in turn (stupidly) trademarks, such as : stuff white people like and shit my dad says. My annoyance has no bounds simply because well, Why the hell didn't I think of that?! So, in hopes of somehow making a break into the industry because-let's face it- that's what I want, I will be here on out whoring myself to the public. JUST KIDDING! Ugh, who do you think I am? This kid?

somebody tell him to stop making videos. Ok! I'll do it! STOP IT!! PLEASE. YOU ARE SINGLE-HANDEDLY CATAPULTING THE MINDS OF AMERICAN CHILDREN INTO A BRAINCELL-SHATTERING ABYSS.

Anyway, instead of becoming an attention grabbing parasite, I'm just going to keep writing. Here. In my notebook. On my computer. In my head...huh?
The industry is tough, and there are a lot of great writers out there, and the odds of me landing anything remotely interesting right now is inconceivable. This city eats people like me for breakfast, it doesn't sit me down at a nice fine restaraunt to dine... hm, like Daniel or Masa... I mean LOOK AT THEIR WEBSITES! So sexy. No, this city will eat me raw and crush my bones into the foundation of the statue of liberty, laughing mockingly. I will not give up, however, my desire is too strong. Besides, I can't stop writing if I tried...
Sigh. I'm just feeling pretty defeated today.

I need a drink.









I'm out.

OMG IT'S THE 1950s

For many months, I mean, years, mainstream media has been an overwhelming disappointment in my eyes. Convincing me that not one single journalist can uphold the ethics and principles of journalism, I had but given up on watching the news and drifted selfishly into an ignorant oblivion. On occasion I would peruse the NYtimes when events were happening around me that I wanted to better understand, like the rise of the tea party and the embarrassing remarks about the mosque being built in the city. Recently, I have decided not only is this "blissful ignorance" unhealthy, but it's a detriment to what it is to be an American. All over the globe Americans are seen as being brainless, self-absorbed cretins and I was feeding right into that prejudice. Although, today a few articles I read reminded me of my aversion to media. Last night I had a conversation with some friends about where politics in this country are going and who/what political thought is at the forefront. One friend believed the country was mostly moderate and the media was exploiting only the two extremes in this country for ratings and possibly a hidden agenda. However, I don't have such a hopeful view of my fellow Americans, no. The Tea Party has brought me to my knees with their exhausting dogmatic claims and racist overtones. It reminds me of an era in this country where xenophobia was a spreading disease that encompassed many "American" minds.

image from newamericanmedia.org
These last few months have been a reprise of history and today I read a few articles that made my stomach queasy, because of the word choice used in them and an underlying mockery of race relations. This article in the NY times about black democrats losing their power after the recent election: Election Diminishes New York’s Black Democrats. was questionable. Though some of it factual, the way it's presented sounds cult-like and that decisions were made solely based on race and not on general equality. This other article is what really made me want to write today: Proficiency of Black Students Is Found to Be Far Lower Than Expected There are ways articles like this should be written. There are obvious sociological implications as to why this deficiency exists. In the beginning of the article Gabriel insists it may not be because of finances due to poor white boys still fairing better in these proficiency tests than poor black boys. It doesn't take a scholar to know that the world looks at these two types of boys differently therefore their family's income level obviously cannot be the only reason for their educational differences. Though he (barely) touches on it, Gabriel does allude to the necessity of having a conversation about the myriad factors of why whites and blacks have different educational backgrounds and histories. DUH! Alright. My rant's over. I gotta get to work.

I'm out.

SEXY

Image from www.jrankolosophy.org

Ok. Sex. It's something people are oddly opposed to discussing, but feel no embarrassment admitting how much they enjoy it. In my 23 years of living I could count how many conversations I've had with my friends about sex on one hand and the amount of conversations with my family on one finger. Although, I understand the aversion my parents have to speaking with me about sex, I cannot fully comprehend why my friends and I rarely discuss it. I'm not saying from now on I want to solely talk about sex ALL THE TIME ALWAYS, I'm just wondering why it's so uncommon to have the dialogue amongst people I love and trust... hm.





I'm out.

You know what? Rent IS too damn high! Jimmy McMillan (J-Mac)

(photo via ny mag)

Thanks to my more informed, brainier roommate I was lucky enough to be exposed to one of the most amazing political figures I have ever laid eyes upon. I'm not quite sure if he could be considered a political figure quite yet, but my goodness he is SOMETHING. While on my daily mull over facebook's newsfeed, I stumbled across this article posted several times by many people from Gawker, brightening my day tremendously. Please take the time to watch the absurdity/hilarity that ensues after Jimmy McMillan is introduced in this debate for governor of NY.
He is certainly a character, with the most amazing facial hair I have ever seen, and he has a point: RENT IS TOO DAMN HIGH. Not aw man, rent prices are a little annoying. Not eh, it could be cheaper. Not, well if I just buy four lokos instead of beer I could afford the apartment. It surpasses all of the above. RENT IS TOO DAMN HIGH- ENOUGH SAID.
Although, after reviewing his party's website I noticed a few curious things. For instance, the auto-tuned music where Mr. McMillan is talking (what could also be characterized as rapping) about his political party- Flag 1. His merchandise- yes, he has merchandise. One might venture to say, the price of that pin is too damn high. He is also selling cds. Why the hell is he selling cds?! -Flag 2. Then, there's barely anything written in the numerous links on the top of the page. When you click on them there are only videos connected to the links or strange, incoherent ramblings about something or other- Flag 3. These videos, some of which include him driving around speaking about "vital" topics, and, my favorite, the endless amateurish-powerpoint-presentation-like ads with horrendous graphics and confusing rhetoric add to the theatrics of his persona. He's baffling and outlandish... in a good way? I have no idea.
I can't possibly take him seriously, though I truly want to believe he has the people's best interest at heart. I can't help but to inquire, what's in it for him? No doubt he's been riding this media boom and probably making bank off of those ridiculous t-shirts (yes, I bought one and I'm having it rush delivered- KIDDING) and seducing people to sing-a-long with him in his auto-tuned voice about the abominable state of rent prices, which leaves me wondering just how dedicated J-Mac would be to our fight to live. Not to mention his uncomfortably palpable assertion that "damn is the word of God." J-Mac even whips out passages from the Bible to argue his point. He was quite offended to find that the word is not used so um, freely when it comes to professional politics, unless, of course, you're Nixon.
Running for governor is not another way to launch your stardom, it's a serious office that can have a considerable affect on lives. A governor should have, at least, an iota of knowledge about how the government works. Ah, who am I kidding, it's all a popularity contest. There have been so many jokers running for assorted offices for as long as these positions were forged into practice. Who will ever forget when The Governator ran? I know I NEVER will.
As long as J-Mac doesn't steal all of my money, I guess I wouldn't mind throwing him into office for a few years to see whose plans/schemes he could possibly foil. Think about it. There are so many people in office that supposedly know what they're doing and systematically perform poorly. At least with J-Mac we know from the get-go that it's going to be a bumpy ride, and it's going to take all of us to get through the two years without the entire state burning to the ground. Maybe he'll bring out the humanity in city-dwelling New Yorkers we all know can't possibly exist... but maybe it does. Maybe he'll be that catalyst that turns cold, stubborn New Yorkers into lovable malleable hippies. Who knows? I do know one thing, no matter who wins for governor in New York this proclamation is infallible- RENT IS TOO DAMN HIGH.


I'm out.

Willow Smith.

Am I the only one a little weirded out by how young pop-stars are getting? This whole fascination with young people and the media has always been an uncomfortable, ongoing trend in our culture. Recently, though it has come to a head with the introduction of a tiny spitfire with the predilection to "whip her hair back and forth." Nine-year old Willow Smith has been getting a lot of attention from her fun, poppy song about feeling good and not caring about what "haters" have to say. Though, the song is extremely catchy, her entire persona leaves you wondering, what else can she possibly sing about at the tender age of 9. Also, who are these haters she's talking about and why exactly is she whipping her hair back and forth, it seems dangerous. All the whipping going on in the video makes it seem like the song is causing some sort of seizure plague. I know someone had to have gotten whiplash.
Being so young, it must be difficult to connect to an audience who's not concerned with who has the most silly bands or who caught the latest episode of Yo Gabba Gabba! I'm just trying to understand the logical trajectory of her career. She is going to have to wait a few years before she can belt out number one hits about love, love lost, crazy partying and growing up...I mean at least 13. Look at the Biebs, he's getting away with singing about love and how old is he? 15, right? Whatever. All I'm saying is she's going to have to get a few more years of life experience before she can join the ranks of other questionable, mind-numbing artists like Selena Gomez and The Jonas Brothers. Are they even her peers? Oh geez. Well, lucky her, if she decided to heed my advice and go on hiatus from her booming singing career she can start up acting like her brother, Jaden, though he probably won't like her interfering with his "shtick." I can only imagine the fighting that would ensue if Willow announced her desire to be an actress.
"Daaaaad, Willow won't stop stealing my roles in movies."
"I can't help it if casting directors like me better than you."
"You know, you're hair isn't even real in that music video."
"Oh yeah, well you're face isn't real." Willow sticks her tongue out at her irritated brother. Then, Will steps in, "You two need to stop fighting, your mother and I are trying to discuss how we can train your future baby brother or sister for Cirque."
Jaden and Willow look at each other, eyebrows raised in understanding and the argument ends. -and scene-
I'm extremely curious to see what will happen next with Willow Smith. I know I'm not the only one. Hmmmmm.....
I wonder if my 7-year old sister would be opposed to recording a song about how much she enjoys the park... we could make millions! Then again, my mother would probably disown me... unless I made it seem like it was her idea. INCEPTION.



You can see the actual video on her website. She's freaking adorable.


I'm out.

More About The Future

Ok. So, I'm still unsure of what will come out of this little project I want to start, but I do know I want it to involve me filming parts of my life and possibly interviewing people. There are a lot of technicalities I have to consider and I'm very unsure of how much or how little I want people to divulge on camera. All I need is a camera haha.

In other news, as is the inevitability of my highly complicated, traumatic life, my luck has been that of a small animal thrust in a shark tank. I feel like I'm being eaten alive. Although, as I've mentioned in a previous post I've succumbed to the reality that it is but a necessity in the universal order of things that I consistently get screwed over. Well, again, you're welcome.

=p




I'm out.

The Future.

I find myself getting inspired at all hours of the night, succumbing to the mysterious energy of the "witching hour"... also I can never sleep because of my persistent insomnia O_o
I have decided at this very hour of 3:33 AM on October 12, 2010 that I am going to start working on an interdisciplinary project. Yes, a project. And no it's not for school- gasp. I know. I can barely believe it myself.
For far too long I have been wondering what it is I want out of life, entangling myself in massive amounts of stress and endless hours of hopeless thought. I have finally decided exactly what it is I want to write. Not only write- what it is I need to do right now in my life. Quite a few experiences have brought me to this conclusion, including some movies I've watched recently, and some conversations I've had with numerous people... about love, about life, all that good stuff. I will let you know exactly what this project entails once of course I've worked the details out. I feel good about this. I guess we'll see what happens...


I'm out.

RADIOHEAD

I'm not going to write a conventional music post about how they are undeniably one of the most colossal bands that have perpetually created affective compositions in an industry that consistently promotes vapid, shallow music. I'm not going to write about how they've completely changed my view on the capabilities music possesses. I'm not going to write about the inexplicable feeling I get when I hear their music. I'm not going to write about how their music transcends tangible ideas and beliefs, customs and thoughts, religion and culture. I simply can't write about them because I plainly don't have the words. There's something about them, though that stirs something inside me that I forget exists and I just wanted to dedicate a post to them. I don't know where I'd be as a writer or even as a person without their music. Intense. I ♥ you, Radiohead.




I'm out.

STOP IT.

SERIOUSLY?!



It's despicable to know this country has the audacity to pride itself on "free speech" and the "American Dream," and refuses to acknowledge countless amounts of people who are constantly subjugated to senseless violence and flagrant ignorance that is not only tolerated but instilled in our very culture. The laws, the language, various "roles" people play in society. Everyday there is something someone says or does that makes me raise an eyebrow in surprise and disgust. There is no excuse for what's been happening around the country. This ever-growing umbrella of hatred that's spreading like a disease, encompassing everyone and everything in its path. It's not happening in a vacuum, there are thousands of people suffering from these ill-conceived notions. You know who's holding weapons of mass destruction? We are. This society. It's emotional warfare and the victims are innocent kids. There is this blanketed denial that is perpetuated throughout history, you know what I'm talking about. Our country's history is no secret, yet we are all taught in grade school to cherish a land founded on violence, prejudice, and blind hatred.
The recent events that have been occurring involving our young people are substantial, not only because they're finally being publicly documented, but because it is most definitely a reflection of our society. To feel so incredibly alone and disconnected, to feel you have no other option but to end your life is not something I would want anyone to feel, let alone a CHILD. There needs to be a change. A serious 180. There need to be more tender, gentler ears for young people to vent about their problems. There needs to be more ways of showing young people it's okay to love yourself even if there are dumbasses out there who project their self-hatred onto others. There is a huge need for this entire country to focus its energy away from sexuality and more towards acceptance. I will never understand why another person's sexual preference has such an affect on people. And I never EVER want to understand. It seems like a sick, twisted thought process that would leave me empty and diluted, keeping me up at night wondering "Why?"



Goodnight.

You Got The Love, Writing.

I was going to go to bed, but this one, indelible thought is keeping me from resting my weary eyes and dreaming once again about the Jonas Brothers (I really did dream about them, and yes it was weird). I NEED TO WRITE MORE.
Last night, sitting at a bar in Brooklyn, a friend and I had a conversation that accelerated my otherwise slow, painful spiral into oblivion. For months I have been allowing myself to become content in this state of blinding apathy, allowing it to take hold of my entire self and render me a senseless imbecile. I mean, I'm happy (I really am happy, it totally comes off as some fleeting, empty statement), but I don't feel fulfilled. I feel like I'm wasting away. Never have I felt so...lame. I don't know how to describe it. Devoid of intensity, passion, substance... lame. A walking shell. A rock, dense, contributing nothing of value. It's like I've forgotten that I actually have opinions and ideas. I need to get out of this funk. I was thinking about writing some essays or something. I haven't done that since college. I always felt so accomplished after completing an essay.

I dedicate this song to the love of my life: Writing. It's always been you.(Though, I think this song is really about Jesus... eh, oh well).



"Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air
I know I can count on you..."



I'm out.

Wind and Water and Weird

Apparently a tornado touched the hipster-stained streets of Brooklyn yesterday, and instead of rallying a large, rowdy group of people armed with cameras and iphones to chase after it, I was sleeping. I had no idea that swirling torrent of wind and rats (instead of cows) was tearing through the streets as I was startled into consciousness, almost hitting my head on the ceiling. All I knew was that my bed was not going to withstand the windy weather. Through my window I could hear the wind screaming obscenities as it crashed into everything in its path with violent intensity. What I heard it saying was, "Your loft bed from ikea is giving me a f&^cking headache. I'm gonna have to tear that sh&t down." And instead of scrambling out of it to safer grounds, I stayed up there. It was like I wanted the bed to break. I wanted to be in it if it fell to pieces and wrecked my entire room. It was a weird feeling. I'm a weird kid.
I may write more later...

Aaaand here it is...
So, if you didn't see it. I actually wrote "right more later..." instead of "write..." I've been finding myself making more and more mistakes like that which are not only embarrassing because of my love of words and my degree in freaking literature, but because I absolutely hate it when other people make those mistakes. It drives me nuts, and now I can't be mad because I AM one of those people- devoid of proper mechanics and grammar, turning my back on the literary tradition, desecrating an art. I should be shot... just in the foot, though.



I've been listening to a lot of Bob Marley lately because... well, I like him. He has so many awesome songs that are not mainstream that he sings- duh. Also, I know I'm not the only one who gets annoyed/uncomfortable when people sing "Redemption Song" at the top of their lungs at bars. That is not a freakin karaoke jam, people. It's just not.



That's the stuff. yeah.

I'm out.

I Have To...

I have to dedicate at least one blog post to the insanity I encounter everyday at work. Without trying to sound like that angry sales associate archetype I will attempt to relay the endless frustrations I experience everyday... Hey, maybe this single entry will start an unprecedented revolution of retail etiquette. HA!

Let's start from the beginning of the customer's experience...
Walking through the doors. It just astounds me that people have this strange aloofness when walking into the store, "Do you work here?" they ask, after I greet them, welcoming them to the establishment, after the walkie around my waste goes off alerting a department there's a "call on line one" for said department. Staring in bewilderment, unable to comprehend such a ridiculous question I used to be taken aback when I heard it. Now? Now I just say flatly, yes, I work here, using everything within me not to emphasize this you're-an-idiot tone in every word. Sometimes I want to answer, No, I just enjoy standing at the front of this particular store, smiling, and saying "hello" to strangers. Or say, "Heavens no, I just haven't taken my medication. I assume I am imagining all of you," and then spin around in circles repeatedly, laughing hysterically.

One question that I have gotten almost everyday since I've started working in NY has been "Is there a bathroom in here?" NOOO. NOOOO. NOOO, there is no bathroom in the store, and don't give me that look of disgust when I answer your silly question. This isn't an effing Macy's. Does freaking Forever 21 have a bathroom? Noooooooo. How about the Gap? Nooooooooo. Hm, maybe American Apparel? HELL NOOOOO. So, why the hell would this place be any different?! Get a grip people.

STOP LEAVING GARBAGE IN STRANGE PLACES. JUST ASK FOR A TRASH CAN. Rogue cups of Starbuck's coffee, candy wrappers, balled up gum, empty soda cans, full soda cans, potato chip bags, Pinkberry cups, you would think you were at a gd amusement park. So many cups of coffee have been spilled all over the floor, turning into a sticky, smelly brown mess. Yes, it was necessary to give you that visual. Throw it away before you get here! Or throw it away into the garbage can that's right outside! Or ask someone who works here where to put it.*

*note I was going to interject a lewd, unnecessary joke here, but thought better of it... kind of.

The most infuriating place, I'm convinced, in ALL OF RETAIL, is the fitting room. The most despised place in the store, where no one ever wants to go. People rudely yelling for sizes, and getting pissed if there are no more- truly believing, in their hearts, that we have vindictively planned to not have their size because, obviously, our entire lives revolve around them and their wardrobe. Mindlessly/carelessly tossing their clothes at you without saying a word, people shuffle into a room and slam the door. They don't think you're a human being, no just a clothing receptacle. A giant key that will get them into a room where they can stare at themselves for several minutes, looking over each inch of themselves, relishing in their "beauty." Or they're wrapping themselves in an insecurity blanket and redirecting their self-loathing tendencies onto others in the nastiest, most unkind way.
SO many people come in giggling about not knowing how many items they have, thinking it's a fun game to play while there are 15 other people waiting behind them to get into a fitting room and they have decided to pick up, oh 387945034030450 things and be completely entangled in them, like some kind of horror movie monster. And with a smile on my face, I try to make conversation so as not to completely go off the deep-end and honestly ask why they think it's alright to walk into a fitting room with 50489509485792734 items and not buy 1 thing.
Coming in with their parents wining selfishly about a skirt they really want, the spoiled preteens, tweens, teens, whateverTF they're called are TERRIBLE. All I can hear when they come in is a dull, continuous buzzing that fills my entire body until I start shaking and sweating knowing the harsh reality that these kids are about to spend a rent check's worth of money on one outing at one store. It's painful, really haha. I can probably write a book on the numerous amounts of things that remind me of class discrepancies or stratification.
The language barrier is also a story within itself. Pantomiming stupidly to foreigners, "No, you cannot bring those shoes into the fitting room with you. Yes, I know you want to keep them to try on. No, I will not put them back. They will be here in this basket." After a few brutal minutes, the dramatic act is over, and stupidity is immediately replaced with "What the hell was I just doing?"

Oh and this is merely the tip of the iceberg folks. There is much, much more where that came from. MUCH MORE. SO MUCH MORE IT'LL MAKE YOUR HEAD SPIN. I KNOW MY HEAD'S SPINNING.

And now to end with a song I have had in my head ALL DAY!



LOVE IT.

I'm out.

LITERARY DEATH

I was seriously contemplating dedicating an entire entry to the recent events in which my purse was greedily, excuse me, psychotically ripped away from my tender possession. Wow. It sounds like I was mugged. I wasn't. It was taken out of my friend's apartment. It's a long story (which is why I was gonna blog about it ha). This is an experience I swear I have about every 6-8 months. Something terrible MUST happen to me within that time frame or else the world will end- no, really, I'm convinced my perpetual misfortune is what keeps this earth spinning peacefully on its axis. YOU'RE WELCOME.
--SIDE NOTE--
I typed in "earth off axis" for google images and this came up

-compliments of momontherocks.com
--SIDE NOTE END--
I will refrain from writing about "the unfortunate event" as I do not want to -ahem- "blow up anyone's spot." But to the guy who felt the need to take things that didn't belong to him: F--- YOU. Yes, F--- YOU. I usually never use such colorful language in my blog, but your actions stir up emotions within me that cannot possibly be contained. Also, I hope something unimaginably terrible happens to you. A permanent splinter between your toes perhaps, or many tiny paper cuts between your fingers and on your FACE! I would describe more horrible, graphic scenarios, but just in case karma does exist I don't want to get too crazy and get hit by a car or something- OH WAIT.
Anyway...
I am posting at this abominable hour because I have been thinking about how much I have been neglecting my dream of becoming an astoundingly brilliant woman writer like Mary Higgins Clark or Nora Roberts. I hope you caught that seething sarcasm (and that awesome alliteration). Seriously though, I feel like my old roommate was right. He had a great point about "getting lost in the city" and would always tell me, don't let the thrill of the city get in the way of your dream. GAH!!! I HAVE. I swore to myself that after I moved here from NoVA I would honestly look for writing jobs or for something involving creativity and intellectual stimulation, but I haven't. Instead I have been wrapped up in, well, other things. Things that aren't necessarily bad, but not conducive to what it is I came here to do. I came here to write, and though I love blogging I never meant for this to be the primary platform for my writing. It's been a realization I have been slowly, shamefully coming to for quite some time. Though, recently I have been writing more, like I promised myself I would, I have not been trying to continue growing as a writer/person. No museums, no galleries, no shows, no NOTHING, at least, I haven't been to any for a while. I mean I went to a really nice restaurant during Restaurant Week which was amazing, but that's only because one of my friends asked me to go with her! I was suppose to go to a show I REALLY WANTED TO GO TO on Sunday (FREAKING CHROMEO) but due to extenuating circumstances that was out of the question. I haven't gone off on my own to do anything fun... BOOOOOO BAD, CHRIS! Sigh.
This is the most self-centered post EVER. Apologies. I know people are itching for me to post an entire entry about my problems and hear all about meeeeeee BLAH BLAH BLAH... I think I'm done.
I mean, I can't be the only person who feels this way! I JUST CAN'T BE!!
Sigh. I'm feeling so disgustingly emo haha. Alright. I should probably go to bed...






Don't walk the plank like I did
You will be dispensed with
When you've become inconvenient








I'm out.

My Girls

Again I have to write about my weekend because I left out a few VERY IMPORTANT details. One, Thorgy Thor and two, Jade. Thorgy has really been expanding her repertoire and has been performing like a fiend these last few weeks all around Brooklyn. Wherever she goes she has a huge following of friends and fans who are astounded by her performances time and time again. It's so exciting to go to her show, having no idea what she'll perform and wondering how the hell these ideas manifested. Her orginiality and stage presence without fail will put a smile on your face.
I'm so excited for Jade because she seems to be spreading her wings beyond the bounds of Westchester and joining a bigger scene that's more fitting to her personality. People are already enamored by her and her ability to keep the audience captivated with every step she takes.

This past weekend I saw Thorgy Thor and Jade perform a few times at two different places- Bar 4 and Sugarland. They know how to put on a SHOW. Once I get clips from Thorgy Thor's solo performance I will most definitely put it up, but for now you'll have to enjoy this encore performance he did Sat. night at Bar 4 with Oscar (another starlet):



And here's Jade! Also at bar 4



Thorgy Thor and JADE

They'll both be performing the second Sunday of September at Sugarland! Save the date!

DON'T MISS IT!!! DON'T MISS IT!!! DON'T MISS IT!!! 






















Yeah, I pulled THAT out. So early 2000s, right?! ha





I'm out.

To Regret Or Not To Regret? That Is The Question.

I've learned over the years that regrets are as useful as a credit card in a bodega. Soooo I regret nothing. However, I do wonder what the hell goes through my head sometimes when I find myself in wildly inappropriate situations. Then, I succumb to the idea of fate and escape any blame for my actions. haha that's terrible. I've actually never done that, but it sounds like a good idea. hmmmm... Anyway, the week just started and so far so good. I had an excellent weekend with some even more excellent people and learned some things about myself in the process. Yay! Self-discovery can be fun... orrr grossly depressing. My discovery? I am a lover of honesty and forwardness. That's pretty self-explanatory, yes? Gooooood. I'm sure I'm not the only one who doesn't like to be involved in cloudy, misguided events that lead to confusion and ultimately a nauseating realization.
So as not to fall completely into a downtrodden abyss, hating all of humanity and its stupidity, I am going to do some more- gasp- reading and -gasp- writing. I realize I haven't done that for me in a while. The writing, not the reading.
I'm reading a book by Sartre right now called, funnily enough, Nausea, and I think I picked it up at the perfect time in my life. I mean, I was suppose to read it in college... buuuuut.... anyway. Sigh. I didn't okay?! I didn't read it! I dunno how I passed that class, with a B no less! But I did (pats self on back). haha

So this week I will not be going out at all, but staying in my dark room staring at the bright screen of my computer. The light washing over my morose expression as I jot down my ambivalent feelings about life, pressing my memory for words I have been suppressing, avidly digging around my subconscious for serenity. My fingers moving across the keyboard with a fury that is reminiscent of the feelings violently swirling around in my head, without reason or direction. Crying intermittently, tears seeping into my computer, where mechanics meet organics. Ignoring concerned inquiries from friends and family wondering where I've been for days, I will continue to create a shadow of myself through words that only I can see and understand...
JUST KIDDING!!!

I'm actually going to the PIT tomorrow with a bunch of people to see Oscar perform. I can't imagine locking myself in a room like that. I'm no Emily Dickinson (on a variety of levels- she is gawd), I like people. But I will make time to write for myself more often this week, just not at the expense of my sanity. Sometimes though, it is nice to just be alone, relish in solitude. I have absolutely NOTHING against that. There have been times I have found myself cradling my computer rocking back and forth cursing the mercilessness of the world. I mean who hasn't?  Right... right... right...right...

Oh boy.



I'm out.

Brooklyn I love you but you're bringing me down- nah not really.

Eeeeek! I have no idea what to write about but really want to update. Isn't that weird? Don't answer that.

Hmmmmmm...


Let's talk about the amount of noise that emanates from the streets into my window and the constant complaints I get from friends and family when I'm on the phone and have to pause because a train is riding past my window.

I live on a pretty busy street and the people in my neighborhood don't feel inhibited by courtesy or early morning hours. No, the people in my neighborhood relish in their ability to scream at the top of their lungs and play loud music at all hours, truly exercising individual freedoms, regardless of when and where. My neighborhood defies the boring suburbian lifestyle and laughs in the face of "quiet hours" and curfews. More than a few times I have seen 14-year-olds walking the streets after I get out of work at oh 2 in the morning- ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I've also seen mothers totting around their toddlers at the same hour. The poor kids are usually falling asleep, heads bobbing every which way, wondering why the hell their in a stroller and not in bed.
I love my neighborhood, though. Everything about it, including the obnoxious guys who stand on the corner and yell the N-word every 5 seconds, the ice cream truck guy who sits outside of my window at 9 in the morning blasting the most irritating renditions of children songs, even the train that runs outside my window every 15 minutes. I love it all. Brooklyn is the bees knees.

Yes, I live that close to the tracks. It's actually quite quaint. In a chaotic, wildly noisy way.

(not so) Random musing: I need to have a house warming party soon...


Also! Devin and I are going to be collaborating on a whole new blog! I'm super excited about it. CAN'T WAIT.

I'm out.

TGIF!

It's Friday! Woo!

This week I am dubbing the week of Inception and Discovery.

I went to see Inception the other day and it was ridiculous to say the very least. There are still a lot of questions I need answered. I'll probably have to watch it again. No worries people, there will be no spoilage here.

Discovery: Things I Discovered this week:

-Devin Dugan's amazing ability to photograph things in a way I've never seen. He's amazing.
-How vastly different cultures can be and how incredible and beautiful differences are
-An amazing sandwich shop in the lower east side
-I am still capable of "liking liking" someone
-I have inevitably become a regular at Union Pool against my wishes
-My love for Toots and The Maytals
-Silence isn't always awkward, but can be very telling and enjoyable
-Four Loko, is in fact the most detestable substance known to man, but at least it's cheap
-Friends and laughter have an inexplicably wonderful affect on life


It's been a helluva week...


I'm out.

Franklin Park and Washington

I have been going out to quite a few bars, but haven't been writing about them. SHAME ON ME. Today, however, I have decided to break that horribe habit of mine and review a bar I went to a few nights ago with a group of people for a birthday party.

First and foremost, this bar is in Crown Heights. I never venture below Broadway except for very special occasions (this was one of them), so I don't know too much about it. I realized I don't like not knowing the "geography" of areas I find myself in, so either I need to get myself better acquainted with places before I go or just not leave northern Brooklyn- EVER. Because I'm lazy and stuck in my ways I'm leaning towards the latter. Not because I don't care about other places in Brooklyn, but because I don't have time/energy/resources to explore BK properly- excuses, excuses. Of course I'm going to explore Brooklyn! Well, when I'm in the mood.

Anyway, I went to this bar from Williamsburg by CAR! I NEVER TAKE CARS. I CURSE CARS AND ALL THAT THEY STAND FOR, plus I'm broke as hell. It's just one of those luxuries I dream I could afford one day. Because of that insanely strange necessity to take a car to Franklin Park I already mildly disliked the bar. With that being said, we arrived and entered the front of the place which was a large out door sitting area toward the street so it was neither flattering nor comfortable. After getting (not-so expensive, which was nice) drinks we stood around trying to find a place to sit. Unfortunately, the dance space was closed so we were stuck to our own devices and forced to entertain each other though we all knew we "just wanna dance." We found a bench which was really nice and sat around and talked for a bit. It's nice to go out with a group sometimes and just exchange funny stories and get to know acquaintances better. After looking around the bar once again, realizing there was really nothing there we couldn't do in Williamsburg, we took a car back - I don't wanna talk about it haha- and wound up at Royal Oak. I have a love/hate relationship with that bar considering 80% of the time I'm questioning why/how I got there and when I could leave. Luckily, because I was with such awesome people it was a goooood time. We danced and drank and merriment was had.

In a nutshell, I will not be going back to Franklin Park anytime soon unless maybe it's for one of those open mics or something, because I'm a sucker for open mics. Also, I was thinking it really just could've been an off night, because I've heard so many great things about the bar. Here are a few pluses:
It was a mixed crowd
The drinks were cheap
People were friendly

Eh, maybe I'll give it another chance... someday.


Oh and before I go here's a little treat/something random for you. A throwback for some. I freaking love this song...






I'm out.

BK Love

So remember I said I didn't want to talk about dating in my blog? I lied. I lied straight to your face without batting an eye. I'm sorry.

Against everything that I hold true and dear I recently made an OkCupid profile in hopes of meeting new people, not necessarily my knight in shining armor, but maybe a hipster on a fixed gear- I'm kidding. Seriously though, I had no idea what I was getting myself into as I mindlessly jotted down my interests and racked my brain for (not so) obscure musical artists and books to make me sound hip and cool.

My first day on it I discovered a slew of unhappy guys who are tired of vapid, shallow women who apparently carry-on conversations solely about handbags and shoes. I wasn't sure if I should be offended or laugh at their chauvinism, but then I thought, hm girls like this do exist. They come in Urban all the time, laughing hysterically about guys they date and asking their friends if "this shirt makes me look fat." However, I cannot fully sympathize with these gentlemen for the sheer fact that they should be old enough to discern what kind of woman would better suit them. They're not 12 year old boys, seeing girls for the first time and going after the first one to sustain eye contact with them for over 3 seconds- or maybe they are and that's their problem. This one guy's profile was completely full of an instructional guide for woman looking for the "right guy." He explained that every girl on OkCupid had the same profile and suggested ways to jazz it up. Although it was well written and I don't think it was suppose to be offensive or malicious, there was an underlying patronizing tone that I did not appreciate.

Anyway, back to me.

I joined almost a week ago and have been changing my profile like my life depends on it. Fixing a sentence here, adding snark there, trying to encapsulate myself in words without sounding like a raving lunatic or an obnoxious douche-bag. It's really a lot harder than you think. No, wait. I think we all know how hard it is to write a profile. Ugh. Finally, I have stopped changing it. It's all a gamble I'm beginning to realize.

In other news...

I think I got a promotion at Urbs so I'm happy about that. Still meeting exciting new people, super happy about THAT. Summer rocks.

Umbrellas provided by Dallas BBQ. Pic taken by Z Dubbs. Fun was had. Oh and this is after Travis cut Brandon's rat tail... it was an event to remember.


EXPECT MORE UPDATES!! I FINALLY HAVE INTERNETTTTT WOOOOOO!!!


I'm out.

July 4th Madness

July 4th represents a lot of different things to numerous people who hold vastly diverse views on this country. Our day of independence did not mean much for a population of people living in this country at the time, but it did give way to the many freedoms we all enjoy today as American citizens. Yesterday (july 4th) I was with a few friends discussing the disparities in our government and relishing in our freedom to be able to hold these views without fear of punishment. It was an interesting conversation filled with ambivalence and sincerity. I, like many others, have a love/hate relationship with this wonderfully complicated country.
However, this is not why I am updating. I am updating to tell you about the awkward bbq I attended with a group of complete strangers.
So my friend and I were invited to this bbq without knowing but one person. It was a weird crowd of people because they were all paired off (the people who lived there and knew the guys who lived there) and didn't seem to be receptive to meeting new people, but my friend's friends were super cool and it was nice kind of getting to know them. So we were in Brooklyn, and these guys totally had that frat boy thing going on, which I am by no means against! It was just odd seeing it in the middle of Williamsburg. Eh, maybe not... Anywho, at first, I sat in the corner with my two friends wondering how the hell I get myself into these situations and later on after some liquid courage, I decided to bite the bullet and make the effort the hosts' refused to by walking over to the kiddie pool (yes there was a kiddie pool) and sticking my feet in with them and just started talking. It turns out the dudes were really cool and pretty funny. But then they began talking about sports at some point and I completely blanked out. The funniest part of our interaction, though, was when two of the guys girlfriends came over and sat on their boyfriends' laps. It was a warning sign for me I suppose. They didn't even join the conversation, they just spoke to each other. A united front against the enemy/vixen- yes, I just called myself a vixen. Cool it, I'm being sarcastic haha. Lock your boyfriends away ladies, I'm on the prowl. I chuckled to myself at the ridiculousness of the situation. Shortly after, my friends and I decided to leave. After we left we had a lot of fun and watched the fireworks on one of my friends' roofs. It was a goooooood time (as aforementioned).
I really do like meeting new people so even at the awkward bbq I had fun. Although, I feel like I've spent an obscene amount of money on going out and need to find other activities that don't delve into my pockets and make my money disappear. Any suggestions? I'm open to anything! THAT'S FREE. Hope you all had a wonderful July 4th weekend!

photo from clipartof.com

Also, I want to take this opportunity to shout out my g-ma who's bday lands on the day of independence! Happy Birthday Eva, though you'll never see this =/ haha

One more thing! I need to buy Independence Day. That movie is so dang goooooood. Love me some Will and Jeff.


I'm out.

Athom Cafe and "Nobody Likes You When You're 23"

What's my age again? What's my age again.
I will refrain from posting the entire Blink-182 song for a number of reasons, first and foremost my dignity. But my birthday was Monday and I am in fact 23!
So, a LOT has happened since my last rant and instead of updating you with all the bo-ring details of my life (sarcasm- I've been having obscene amounts of fun) right now I'm going to review an amazing cafe that my roommate and I (mostly him- I think he might be addicted, an intervention may be necessary) frequent quite often- ATHOM. It's a small cafe in Brooklyn on Broadway between DeKalb and Malcolm X. It's a tiny hole in the wall much like the bar across the street from it, Good By Blue Monday. Athom sells delicious, fresh croissants, pastries, cakes and pies. They serve up scrumptious sandwiches with real ingredients. My favorite sandwich is the brie, avocado, tomato, smoked salmon sandwich, which I'm not kidding you, I may kill someone for. It comes on this wheat roll that is crispy on the outside, and moist on the inside. The way the brie just melts right into the crevices of the bread with the salmon laying on top and the fresh tomato and avocado melding together in a perfect union of flavor. DELICIOUS. I just had one and now I want another. The guy that owns it, Jerome, is also the nicest guy ever. Though he struggles a bit with the language he manages to always have a smile on his face and pleasantly greet customers. I love that place I HIGHLY recommend it to anyone and everyone. If you like good food- GO THERE. Plus, it's fairly inexpensive. My favorite sandwich is the most expensive at $8.50 but if you eat at the cafe it comes with salad! Yumm-o.


So back to my bday. I had a party on Saturday night because I knew for the next few days I was going to be preoccupied with familial obligations. It was a gooood time. I finally went to Tandem and LOVED it. Most of my friends came out and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in Brooklyn. I've been meeting a lot of really amazing people and everything's been so freaking fantastic, I'm almost scared how happy I've been. Although, I've learned to embrace the goodness of life without worrying about the possible downfall. Phew. It's good to feel good haha.

I don't notice any differences in my ripe old age. All I feel is this impending-doom-feeling and a necessity to be successful NOW. TIME IS RUNNING OUT. AND YES THAT WAS A MUSE REFERENCE.

Too bad it's not "music monday" this would've been the perfect post.

And it's short and sweet.

I will try to update more often, but considering I STILL don't have internet, I'm not making any promises. Ugh, I want internetttttt!!!!

Oh and thanks neighbors, for not having a freaking password on your internet. Let's see how long this will last...

I'm out.

♥

Moldy Peaches- Nothing Came out

Just because I don't say anything
Doesn't mean I don't like you
I open my mouth and I try and I try
But no words came out

Without 40 ounces of social skills
I'm just an ass in the crack of humanity
I'm just a huge manatee
A huge manatee

And besides, you're probably holding hands
With some skinny, pretty girl
That likes to talk about bands
And all I want to do is ride bikes with you
And stay up late and watch cartoons

DuckTales, Shirt-Tails, TaleSpin, Sailor Moon
GI Joe, Robotech, Ron Jeremy, Shmoo

I want to watch cartoons with you
Josie and the Pussycats and Scooby-Doo
I want you to watch cartoons with me
He-man, Voltron, and Hong Kong Phooey

I tried to ask you to your face
But no words came out
Put on my hood and walked away
That doesn't mean I don't like you

And besides you're probably holding hands
With some skinny pretty girl
That likes to talk about bands
And all I want to do is ride bikes with you
And stay up late and maybe spoon

Just because I don't say anything
Doesn't mean I don't like you, no
I opened my mouth and I tried and I tried
And besides, you're probably holding hands
With some skinny pretty girl
That likes to talk about bands
And all I want to do is ride bikes with you
And stay up late and watch cartoons

I'm just your average Thundercats ho!


This song just about sums up my last failed attempt at dating. Alright, so it's a bit of a stretch and I'm taking some liberties. Eh, it's close enough ha

I'm out.

The Creative Beast

The move went quite smoothly, despite our (Brandon and me) incredible fatigue. A giant weight has been lifted and we're super excited to start decorating! Throughout this entire moving process I have also been rehearsing for a musical that was to be performed in the West Village Musical Theatre Festival, notice the key word in this sentence is "was."Here's the scoop, or at least what I gather:

My friend, Teddy, chose to direct this musical for the festival to challenge himself both professionally and creatively. He had to choose out of quite a few shows that were to be performed and thought this particular play, "I Don <3 U NE Mor," was the least horrible. The musical's about a guy who is completely overwhelmed by the technological age and proceeds throughout the entire play to clumsily, annoyingly use, question, and denounce technology as if he's some baby boomer from the '50s utterly baffled by new advancements in social media and communication. Oh and I think he's in love with some girl, too. Because we only got 15 pages of the script, I can't say that I think the entire idea is vapid and uninspired. Nor can I say that the ENTIRE musical was poorly written and the characters are caricatures of people you couldn't, in your wildest dreams, bring yourself to care about. I also can't say that the play sounds like something I wrote in high school (mine was better obviously). However, I can talk about the process in which the musical was eliminated from the festival.

I know Teddy. He's a director with a plethora of ideas that are expressed in ways that not everyone would understand immediately, but are genius just the same. We started rehearsal and were cast to play multiple characters, and there was lots of movement and some liberties were taken with the text. All of this was done without communication with the playwright or anyone affiliated with the play... why? Obviously they didn't care. Our rehearsals went along without Teddy getting any feedback from anyone. So of course he did what he was suppose to do-direct. He took this poorly written 15 pages and made it as interesting as he possibly could. Then, at our last rehearsal, some woman who called herself "creative director" came in and watched our rehearsal. The moment this woman stepped through the doors I immediately felt uncomfortable, like I was under a microscope that not only looked into your body, but your soul. She scrutinized us all with unabashed pomposity, sitting on her pedestal made of embarrassingly shallow ideals. The play, she told us, was chosen by Fringe, which I'm beginning to thing is a lie, because I'm pretty sure only great plays are in that festival, not hollow garbage. She also wanted to let Teddy know her name would not be associated with this performance BEFORE SHE EVEN SAW THE REHEARSAL. I instantly disliked her. Throughout the rehearsal she was feverishly texting "home base," like a child. I knew it wasn't looking good for us from the get-go, what with Sazuki walking to a score of beautiful music from a movie I can't remember the name of, the change of the stupid names in the script that were referring to popular social networks like facebook and myspace (myface), gmail (pmail) and so on, and then Teddy chose not to sing one of the songs in the musical and replaced it with something drastically different. I suspected our fate after that rehearsal, but then to actually have it happen was shocking. I got the email yesterday stating the play was pulled from the show. This was not the smartest thing for them to do. Now they're team seems difficult to collaborate with and no one wants to deal with drama in theatre.
The playwright did not come to ANY of the rehearsals. Their team barely communicated with Teddy at all until this week because the spy ("creative director") was probably freaking out. How dare they pull this no name play that NO ONE cares about. Who are they trying to protect? Themselves? They're nobodies. They should be grateful that Teddy even considered to direct that childish, sloppily written, brain-melting, sugarcoated string of "words" and "music."

So we were pulled from the show. After weeks of rehearsing and time being consumed unnecessarily, not to mention the sleep deprivation I was lucky enough to experience as a result of doing overnights and having rehearsal the same day!

Though I understand that if I had a vision for my musical and someone directing it was totally off, I'd be upset too, HOWEVER, I would have come to rehearsals to make sure we were on the same page. I would NOT have sent a spy FOR ME to scope out the play a week and a half before it was to be performed. Not only is that unprofessional and childish, but it's insulting to the director and the actors- especially because it's a new playwright who has absolutely no standing in the theatre world.

Dear Cathy,

Not only was your presence a nuisance during that ONE rehearsal, but your audacity to criticize the way it was directed and the choices made to enhance a terrible script is astounding. Not once did you attempt to see us before a week and a half before the show, so whatever you said is futile. Your show is boring. It has it's moments, but not many. I can only imagine how bad it is in its entirety. Don't ever do what you did to us again as it is negative a reflection on your ability to "creatively direct." It just seemed like you didn't care until you saw your show was going in a different direction. None of this would have happened if YOU as a "creative director" had been more responsive, took initiative, and maybe even- gasp!- creatively directed. I hope your play fails miserably.

Cheers,

Chris




I'm out.

The Hunt is STILL on

Brandon and I are undergoing an interminable search for apartments in Brooklyn. For weeks, before he came up here, I had been anxiously viewing apartment after apartment, sweating bullets due to stress and the consistently fluctuating temperature. Yesterday we found a place that both of us loved and are hoping to hear back today if we can move in as soon as Wednesday! I'm really hoping we get this place, I really think at this point we deserve it. After all the unbelievably strange hardships and let downs, getting this apartment will have negated it all. I wish I had more to say. This last week has been quite draining both mentally and physically. When I have more energy I shall hit you with a sweet sweet post. Wish us luck in finding an apartment!

Please?!




I'm out.

alabaster salamaster?

kilgore trout

Ask me anything

You're Outttttt!!!

I really like that feeling you get before you go out with a group of people you genuinely enjoy. It's a buzz that's mixed with excitement and enthusiasm for what will happen. It's such a positive energy. If it could be bottled I'd imagine it would be called something corny like "Electric shock in a can" or "Beez Buzz in your head." Anyway, this weekend has been pretty relaxed. Nothing too crazy going on, which is nice. I got to know one of my really good friends even better, and it was nice just sitting around talking. We are thinking of making a blog together and forming a book club because it's surprisingly hard to have an intellectual conversation about what your reading on a whim. In college it's easy to express subversive thoughts, but now it just seems convoluted and awkward to attempt a conversation of too much substance in social situations. I haven't had a genuinely serious exchange of ideas in a really long time and it's not because my friends don't have these interesting thoughts or no desire to share them, but when is it appropriate to have these conversations? I know when I just wanna kick it I'm not looking for my friends to start talking about universal disorder and the completely diluted, infuriating state of society. Sigh. Anyway, I'm posting super quickly before I go out to Vandam so sorry if this is all over the place. I needed to update. It was a necessity.





I'm out.

Random

Here are some awesome/absurd things that I have discovered this week...

I actually discovered this last year, but have recently been eyeballing it. It's my friend Emma's photography website that is just plain kick ass...

Sick Pics

Here are a pair of shoes sold at Urban Outfitters for a whopping... wait for it...

$58!!!! whaaaaat?!

I find myself getting addicted to things such as the cheesy bean and rice burrito from Taco Bell

Image from restaurant news. yummo.

Now, I have a new obsession. The cinnamon coffee cake from Starbuck's. I swear these places are putting some kind of drug in their food... I had two of these a few days ago and felt nothing but shame afterward... alright and sheer joy.

Image from healthyandsane.com which is a really cool blog btw!

 I've also been craving Trader Joe's cheese tortellini.

Can you tell I'm super hungry and absolutely love food?

Oh and here's another absurd thing. This crazy picture I took of my self that looks like I'm anxiously awaiting the apocalypse knowing I will be safe wrapped in my covers.

Absurd.


Alright. I need to do some food shopping. I promised Zach I'd cook dinner for him. He deserves it for being SUPER AWESOME FANTASTIC (he is included in the list of awesome/absurd things... obviously he's awesome).

One more absurd thing.



wtf.




I'm out.

formspring.me

Been reading The Fountainhead, feeling selfish, er independent... ask me things... http://formspring.me/CrisisScarlett

Will Train A arrive before Train B? And if so, on which platform?

Train C passed both A and B, miraculously arriving on 586879 platforms simultaneously, defying space, time and this question. Train C is where it's at. I wanna be more like train C.

Ask me anything

What did the cat drag in?

Your mom... no, no i keed. It's a cat, that's silly and impossible. Probably some sort of rodent, maybe something more unpleasant like bad karma or lady gaga.

Ask me anything

You're Hired!

I shall get back to you about my hip hop research as I have yet to conduct it due to well... extenuating circumstances such as trying to find a new apartment/job, etc. I wanted to update because I want to share with you yet another aspect of society that completely baffles me- the interviewing process. In retrospect I suppose it makes sense. It's a way of figuring out whether a candidate is going to fit into your company or not, based on carefully constructed questions that- okay, now I'm lying. Some of these questions asked are seriously a form of psychological torture. Racking your brain for what seems like an eternity to answer the simple question, "Why do you want this job?" is proof enough of this ongoing conspiracy. You can never answer too honestly in an interview or you won't be considered. There are certain things these recruiters want to hear from you and I suppose it's a way of testing your will. How willing are you to do so much research on the company and the person interviewing you to mold your answers exactly to their liking without sounding like an automated system or a complete psycho? Very willing? You're hired.  Inquiring about, "What kind of animal would you be and why?" makes my head spin. Excuse me? How is this going to help you understand whether or not I know how to make copies, file, or mail something?! I know it's also to make sure companies don't hire unstable introverts, or lazy, careless people, but you have to agree, some of the questions are a bit awkward.

I'm going to list some of the most horrendous question (and my favorite non-question*) below with some answers that would be sure to get you a spot in the morning cooler conversation the next day. Probably not a job, though.
Before I continue I just want to post this disclaimer:
At least I know what NOT to say, right? But seriously, if you are a potential employer, this is all in jest. I promise I'm not insane. And I don't candy flip, nor am I a drunk. Cheers.
Without further adieu:


What is your greatest weakness?
Chocolate. If there were secrets your company wanted me to keep, and a rival company offered me a Tobleron, well, say goodbye to those secrets. I also have an extremely short attention span. Board meetings lasting over 15 minutes would be hard for me to sit through... unless, of course, there's some Justin Bieber playing behind the presentation or some bright lights flashing- ohhh a disco ball!

What do you find are the most difficult decisions to make?
One time I had to decide whether or not to go to this amazing rave or finish my research paper in order to graduate. After going over a list of pro's and con's of attending this party and potentially not graduating I decided to party. You only live once right? It was fine though, because after I got back from the party I finished the paper. Yeah, I was still a little buzzed from candy flipping, but I was proud of myself for getting the work done, though you really couldn't understand the last part. It was kind of all over the place. So if there was a decision between partying and work, I'd always choose the party. I guess that's not too difficult.

Do you take work home with you?
If by "work", you mean "coworkers", then all the time. I'm joking! I'm joking (whispers and winks) kind of. But no I would never do that. I hate working at home.

What has been the greatest disappointment in your life?
Had to be when Sandra Bullock won that Oscar. It was like- "Really?! C'mon."

Tell me about yourself. *
I'm 22, and when I graduated I had such high expectations of the "real world," but was quickly disheartened by the amount of stupidity in positions of power. I love horror movies and drinking. I have to have a shot before work or I won't make it through the morning. I haven't missed a happy hour since August '09. People sometimes piss me off to a point where I'm compelled to physically hurt them. I think once I was arrested 5 times in one week for assault. Proudest week of my life. I enjoy long walks on the beach, with a forty of course, throwing sand on happy couples, and cheering for the fighting ones. I love calling out of work last minute and hearing the next day how they had to scramble to get someone to cover for me. If it weren't for money I would never work. Oh and Charles Manson is my role-model.

If the people who know you were asked why you should be hired, what would they say?
There would never be a dull moment in your office. She loves waging psychological warfare in the workplace.

HIRE ME!!




I'm out.

Hip Hop is not whack... foo'

I have been trying to expand my musical inclinations to extend beyond the current Indie trend of bands like Hot Chip, Yeasayer, MGMT, Grizzly Bear, etc. Realizing that my hip hop knowledge is embarrassingly limited, I have decided to search for more artists besides Mos Def, Talib Kweli, and Nas. I haven't begun just as yet so I won't be name dropping any new mcs until after my research is over. However, the real reason I'm writing today is to talk about this ongoing trend of people who don't like rap music, calling it crap. I remember in middle school I fancied myself an avid "rock and roller," and along with my peers, felt it necessary to say "rap is crap." Looking back now, it was only childhood naivety. I have since overcome my hasty judgment of rap music. Nowadays, though when people my age take such a passionate stance against rap music, purely on a nonsensical bases, stating that none of the songs make sense and sound "bad," I get really irritated. For instance, I googled "rap music" and this image came up

The image is from laughitout.com. I think we all know who the true idiots are ^ ahem^.


When I talk about certain artists, I'm more likely to call their music hip hop and not rap because of the varying connotations of each word. Alright, here's where it gets a little fuzzy. In my mind rap is more beat based, not focusing too much on lyrical ingenuity, but music you can get down to. Hip hop is more intellectual, explicating problems of daily life, with more of an experimental element to it. Here are some examples: Rap to me sounds like Cash Money Millionaires, Nelly, Ghostface Killah, etc. Hip Hop sounds like Jay-Z, Pharrell, The Roots, Jurassic 5, etc. I can be totally wrong, but these are my interpretations of the words and of course there are exceptions, but that's my general comprehension. Rap music has gotten a bad rep, considering its sordid history with unapologetic sexism, homophobia, and in some cases predilection for violence. It is what it is. I used to get upset with certain rappers for talking about women in such a foul, despicable context, but I can't let some stranger singing about stupidity get under my skin. Although, I understand the arguments about young people listening to the music and being influenced by what they hear, I always consider "What about their parents?" Music is entertainment, and if parents are upset by what their kids are listening to or nervous about them developing unsavory mentalities then they should talk to them about it. Get more involved. People love to blame outside forces for their own imprudence.  Musicians are entertainers, not role models but people get them confused, which causes lots of problems.

 photo taken from smc.edu

I totally pulled this picture out of context from an article asking if rap music had a negative impact on young people. Oddly enough, the question was posed by someone named Chris. Most of the comments are really vapid. Here's the link if you wanna check it out.
Maybe I'll get into country music too... Nah. I do like some country music though! I'm not saying all of it is horrible, though a majority of what I hear I am not a fan of, but no longer will I say, "I like all genres of music, except country," because that's just like grouping every rapper/hip hop artists together without rhyme or reason and making an uninformed, blanketed judgment- not cool. So begins my quest... my journey if you will, into the depths of underground hip hop. If you don't hear from me in 48 hours... it's because my mind's been blown and I'm immobilized by the music. Ha... we'll see about that.



I'm out.