ETS - Educational Testing Sucks.

There's something worse than getting teeth pulled, potentially worse than getting teeth pulled without Novocain. That something is the Graduate Record Examination, commonly known as the GRE. It doesn't matter how long you study or what you know. It matters that you answer the first 1/3 of the random questions correctly in each section. If you're lucky enough to know what the most obscure words in the English language mean (all 5 unrelated definitions), and then if you can also write logical arguments for an hour and a half, while answering geometry, trig, algebra, and 5! -2xy + 3 squared to the nth degree... you might survive. Don't forget the little countdown going on in the upper left hand corner, telling you how many seconds you have left, ticking ticking ticking your life away. Somehow it's the longest 4 hours of your life, but you still run out of time too fast. Oh yes, and you get one 10 minute break... total.

Before you enter the room, you have to remove your headband. The skinny ribbon keeping the hair out of your eyes, that has to go. No watches, no pens, no pencils, no joy. Don't remove your sweatshirt unless you raise your hand. Show us the insides of your pockets, stick your hands in your back pockets and turn around. It's all so inhumane. Then they crank the heat up in the test room and give you giant headphones that make you feel like you're trapped in a dark subway alone, under water. They yell at you because your signature looks different from your license, which was signed a year ago. At the end, they have the nerve to ask if you would like to participate in an experimental section, but you're too scared of losing the score you already have to say no. All of a sudden, your score appears after saying you don't want to cancel it...twice. $150 to take the damn test, plus $50 to change the date. $30 for the review book, $15 for the vocab review book, countless hours, and still a below average math score. Doesn't matter that I'm going to school to get a Master of FINE ARTS in WRITING. They still had to tell me I suck at math and then also tell the schools to which I'm applying. The writing section, my only hope for redemption, is scored by snotty nosed TA's who don't give a crap, so that's reassuring.

That was standardized computerized hell, and after a day in a cubicle, a night in a testing cell, and a long phone conversation with my mother that I had to tune out due to lack of brain power, I am going to sleep to pretend it never happened. In the morning, hopefully my head is no longer a pureed glob of irrelevant data.

Shut Up about New Moon. kthanksbye.

Postcards From Yo Mamma

Just now on Gchat...

Mom: -[p/================ [[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[;/7RUIF<(O)_814
Mom: that was Frida having something to say she was lying on the keyboard probably for warmth that will be fine w/me

NYC: Not So Evil All the Time

The past 18 hours have been pretty decent as far as NYC goes. This city and I have a serious love/hate relationship. It's not quite healthy, but not awful enough to break up (yet). What will likely happen is that I'll walk out on it and then cry about missing it and end up as an old lady living on Central Park wearing Burberry and walking my black cat around the block. I'll regret not ending up in Carmel, California in a stone cottage on the ocean, but I'll secretly love my life despite whining.

Last night I had writing group at the Ansonia, in a woman's condo there. The building is slightly creepy, but I love writing group. It's kind of like AA or therapy, with less debbie downers. I get this feeling of being high, walking on air because I love writing so much. I HAVE to do it. Some people have religion. I have books I guess. Whatever. Corny sap:

""There is only one great truth on this planet: whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth."

Today, just now, I discovered a new coffee shop, Birch Coffee, that is totally pretentious and down to earth at the same time and I love it. The coffee is good. It's just too bad they don't take credit cards for anything less than $8 which is just about what I have in my account. Read the "About Us" part. It's a place that should be in Ithaca or Maine, not NYC but that's why I like it. They do a daily meditation which scares me, but I know my mom would encourage me to go with gusto. Still scares me. Hippies. Yikes. Coffee is good, escaping from the city vibe is even better.

Only in America...

Realistically, how old do we think that child is? I think it's too old to be in a diaper.
My favorite part is the mom in the background... "sheeeet. what the helllll? some body help me."
Then the 15 year old father comes in and dances along.
"This baby is really killin' it (and me)"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mXaYaU63sUA

Excuses, excuses

Reasons I haven't written:

1. I'm applying to grad schools for creative non-fiction writing, so I'm writing 50 page portfolios instead. A legit excuse, I hope.

2. I'm in a writing group, so I'm editing loads of pages every week, plus writing a novel. Yes, correct, somehow that seemed like a good idea at the time.

3. I have to take GRE on December 7th. FML. Procrastination sucks. May my multiple choice skills be filled with luck.

4. I go to Philly a lot.

While I was out:

5. Since July, I finished another 10 week class at Gotham, saw Britney Spears, Jay Z, and Coldplay in concert, Shrek and Phantom on Broadway, attended two weddings and a funeral, a bachelorette party and a baby shower, stayed blonde for the fall, and took a road trip to Maryland.

The future:

6. I'm really really REALLY REALLY excited to see the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame Concert on Thursday at Madison Square Garden. The line up just keeps expanding and getting more awesome: Crosby Stills and Nash, Jackson Browne, James Taylor, Bonnie Raitt, Simon & Garfunkel, Stevie Wonder, John Legend, Sting, Smokey Robinson, Jeff Beck, and Bruce Springsteen... ONE CONCERT, ONE NIGHT?! That's insane. I sort of wanted to go the second night because of Eric Clapton and U2, but I think they actually replaced Clapton anyway.

7 Then Monday, pending weather and series, I'm supposed to go to Phillies/Yankees Game 5 with the uncles. YAY.

8. In case I don't write til 2010, Joshua Radin on 11.19, Twilight the next day (bunch of creepers giving the stink eye and I'm embarrassed to be a top listener of the New Moon soundtrack on lala.com), Ali is coming to visit on 12.18 from FL and hopefully Lisa and Ash (PSU reunion!)

Okay so that's my life. I'm busy and it's good.

Oops

O heyyy blog! It's not like I forgot about you. I've just been busy okay? God. Stop guilt tripping me. I only write this for my sisters, and I harass them everyday via text, gchat, facebook, and phone. Don't hate! I'll write soon. Love you.

Oooo yeahhhh!!

28 Days...

FAIL TUESDAY.

Back story: My roommate is working late and we're chatting online about how much Tuesday sucks...

Steph: Apparently "hi I'd like to order a chicken Caesar salad" means "hi I'd like to order a boring and uncomfortable large load of greens" - who gets a HUGE salad without meat on it?!?!?!? hhahaha FML. i tried to actually send you the picture i took of it
Me: um yes. HAHAHA
Steph: i think the salad is so big it wont send
Me: also.. i may have eaten a moldy avocado. I'm scared. ew soooooo nasty. fail salad. FAIL TUESDAY
Steph: i almost bought avocados the other day. but then i was like o wait.. i don't know how to eat them
Me: straight up.. i don't think they go moldy. I'm just paranoid. i just cut in half and scoop out the stuff and eat it
Steph: you have to see this- i emailed you it
Me: LULZ
Steph: its the worst thing ever. i cant wait to leave to eat
Me: i didn't get it yet. i have a huge headache. i want a new life
Steph: fuck my blackberry for not sending you this picture
we are in a fight. its "going"
Me: I HATE YOU BLACKBERRY STAY OUT OF MY LIFE
Steph: GOD SENDDDDD
Me: godsend? lolcat?
Steph: see i don't even do work what a joke. I'm leaving in about 10 minutes this is nonsense
Me: hogwash
Steph: I'm not even working. I'm pissed off about the salad now. hahahaha. someday when my crackberry isn't being a slut ill send you it. i cannot believe how much it was and how awkward
Me: okkk or show me when you get home
Steph: now I'm going to be a wild boar when i get home. i hate when i get like that. i think i need to see someone about it but sometimes when I'm so hungry I'm just like GIVE ME EVERYTHINGGGGG and i get out of control
Me: hahahahaah IM SO FUCKING HUNGRY I'M SO FUCKING MAD. wow i feel sick
Steph: reating. rage + eating. reating. cause rating sucks- its media. u feel sick bc u nommed mold
Me: LOL HAHAHHAHAHA
Steph: i want to throw it against the wall, throw a hissy fit and storm out leave this crappy house salad all over. no one will EVER get me a shitass house salad again then. i even grabbed through it with my hand to see if the chicken was hiding in the middle as a nice suprise. NOPE so then it was just dirty
Me: HAHAHAHAHAHAH. i may put this whole convo on the internet on my blog next to andys video
Steph: hahah i don't care.. no one will get me the wrong salad ever again then. ill have so much meat i wont know what to do with it
Me: THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID
Steph: i think my image came
Me: OMG I GOT IT














Steph: that's HALF in the LID like are you kidding me! ok i give up I'm coming home to eat see ya in 4 hours after my god damn commute god damn new york
Me: EFF NYC
Steph: cant wait to sleep for 6 hours and do this again!!!! at least its hump day.

By Lauren Luke

Not to go completely girl power, powderpuff on you, but I almost cried when I heard about this girl, Lauren Luke. She started making youtube videos of how to apply makeup and now she has a line at Sephora and millions upon millions of views online...she had a terrible school experience because kids are mean and now she's making bank. I love her! Definitely buying this stuff ASAP. She's a single mom too. Well, jeez!

NYTimes Article

Funny Kids

Funny things my friends said to me this week via G-Chat or text.
There are tons more, but for some reason, I wrote these down. Out of context, maybe they seem crazy, but I'm sure the conversation was just as weird and off the wall as the quote.

Trevanie: haha she was in a sorority; no wonder she's annoying with group things

Xtine: hahahah God making men and women attracted to each other was a cruel thing to do
Xtine: bc all women think men are idiots and all men think women are insane

J9: we went 3-1 last night in dodgeball. i took a ball to the face and it knocked my glasses off. so geeky.

P-Fiddy: Eat it.

Sushi: You would prob be peeing your pants at all the trevors in connecticut. Nom cats.

CW: i know asians are my favorite babies
CW: hahahahahahahahhahaha

i typed that- thought about how messed up it sounded- disregarded it- and sent it

i'm biased toward chubby irish babies too in case you were wondering

Lobsta: they should make a law that azn's must stay babies like azn's can't get older then 6 or 7

Lobsta: but mooommmm i was 7 last year.... shut up lil Jimmy Chung ur 7 again
Lobsta: i swear this kid looks 55... nope... he's 7 swear to g-d

Sarisha: David-O is trying on a "memories" t-shirt lol it's like 10 sizes too small

*Names have been slightly altered to protect the true identity of the characters

OBX: Ol' (B)Dirty (X)South

I went to the Dirty South, and ohmahgod, now I know why they call it that. For one thing, I'm covered in mosquito bites and I'm going absolutely crazy. I know the worst times of day for mosquitoes are sunrise and sunset, therefore I can pinpoint the moments of attack. Those mothereffers got me when I was vulnerable. 

First, when I arrived in North Carolina after an 11 hour drive, complete with "wrecking" my mom's car, *almost* getting pummeled/shredded apart by a tractor trailer while standing in the left lane assessing the damage, and seeing an obese man's exposed stomach as he looked under the ballin' Chrysler. We stopped to buy fresh fruit from the Bible thumpers, and I'm pretty sure some blood sucking pests came in with the blueberries and sand bucket of peaches. Then they got me when I was playing mini golf in a skirt near a bog or swamp in which bullfrogs mated. I was focusing, and they were hungry. Then they got me again when I was tipsy after a 12 hour margarita day and tequila power hour. Clearly, I couldn't swat them away while texting and snapping photos of drunk people jumping off the roof. 

So now I suffer. 

The Dirty South is also dirty for obvious reasons. As we crossed over the Mason Dixon line, which in fact is below Pennsylvania and above Maryland and bisects Delaware in case you didn't know, the billboards got suggestive and disturbing. We drove through a town called "Omancock" O-MAN-COCK, VA. Okay, it might've been Onancock, but at a glance it looked like an "M." Then we got behind a nice man in a pick-up with a license plate that said "FISH NUDE." YOU fish nude, dude. I'll stay over here in a full sweatsuit so I don't get eaten alive by mosquitoes even more and in even worse places than knees and toes. Yikes. I can't imagine going all the way to Georgia, or worse, driving West toward Alabama or Arkansas. No thanks, as Virginia and North Carolina had their heads in the gutter quite far enough. We spotted a "Taylor DO IT Center." I don't even know what that means. We crossed over the Dick White Bridge, and I know I'm being a 12 year old schoolboy, but after a while, your subconscious pieces these things together and says, HEY! That's inappropriate! Not to mention, you gotta do something after 9 hours in a car besides sing Missy Elliot songs and scream at other drivers. 

Oh we're not through yet. Once crossing into North Carolina, we spotted many signs for peanuts. One such sign said, "Come try my nuts!" "Hey, no way!" These people try to look innocent with their straw beach hats and their Presbyterian churches and their clever bumper stickers, but I'm from the Northeast and I'm onto them. There was also "Spankys," a little snack shack with a monkey eating a hotdog as their logo. C'mon now. Who thought of that? I suspect the preacher or the granny. The best place yet is called Dirty Dicks, which is a very famous crab restaurant. Slogan? "I got my crabs at Dirty Dicks." True enough, however get your kid a t-shirt there and I don't think they will be allowed to attend math class. 

Besides all of that, if you weren't convinced already that the South is, in fact, dirty, someone within our beach house stole money from 6 different people. There were 14 of us, mostly friends from a little PA high school. The worst crime I ever saw in my home town was when the bad kid in my 2nd grade class wrote "F*CK" on the sliding board and then told me never to tell. Oops, I guess I just did.  I also once saw a woman get kidnapped in Blockbuster and forced to drive her own car down the street at gunpoint. This is traumatic even for a Bronx neighborhood kid, but at the time, I pretended it was a movie since I was surrounded by...movies and I haven't thought about it until now. The point is, people don't really steal from their friends. However, something about the South leads to dirty money, dirty motives, dirty hands. I'm guessing the thief was one of the outsiders, not from the PA country. I'm also fairly certain it wasn't my roommate since she only steals sangria from Buskers (HA). I don't think it was any of the 18 year olds because they seem to look up to the older boys so why would they steal from them? They're Team Meathead! They gotta stick together! 

Perhaps someone random snuck in while we were incapacitated at the pool, throwing back dirty shots of dirty rum and dirty tequila. Or maybe all the people who claim to be missing money merely spent it on a dirty round of golf, some dirty barbeque pork sandwiches, or the dirty all you can eat seafood joint where I learned to crack a crab leg with a dental tool. We didn't get our crabs at Dirty Dicks, but we did get dirty, eat crabs, lose money, swim in the dirty ocean and consume 5 containers of margarita mix. And yeah, check it, that's a rhyme. 

Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar?

Calm is for Wimps. Get Real. Get Stressed.

If at first you don't succeed, it must be someone else's fault. Find them; blame them; make them pay.

Shout at people at least twice a day.

Make yourself a Humor Free Zone. If you ever find yourself laughing at a predicament you're in, go to the bathroom and pull yourself together.

Always remember that, in truth, you are only a small, unimportant cog in a massive machine you can't control.

Every cloud doesn't have a silver lining. Don't fall for this drivel. It's just deeply unscientific propaganda put out by optimists. In fact, it's more likely that every cloud has a lead lining which means all our reservoirs are full of poisoned water.

Always make sure you have the last word. Raise the stakes by making the last word "dickhead."

From The Little Book of Stress by Rohan Candappa

Showering is Going To Kill You...

I'm about to go where I have never gone before.

Reasons I'm going to use self tanner for the first time:
1. There is no f-ing sunshine and it's already mid-June
2. I'm scared of getting wrinkles
3. And cancer
4. I refuse to EVER fake bake. I will NEVER ever do it.
5. It's slimming to have a tan?

So I got Clarins Self Tanning Instant Gel because it was recommended, and even though it's expensive, I would prefer to be tan, not orange. I'm thinking bronze, not glow in the dark. So then I was reading reviews, and they're all good, but I came across this website:

http://cosmeticsdatabase.com/

Seriously, type in any products you use. Between my shampoo, eye shadow, lotion, toothpaste, lip gloss, deodorant, and nail polish, I will obviously have problems associated with cancer, neurotoxicity, biochemical or cellular changes (morphing), organ system toxicity, occupational hazards (desk throwing), endocrine disruption, developmental/reproductive toxicity, allergies, irritation, and mutations. Yes!

In the end, there are no safety restrictions for most beauty products apparently. They're telling us to be on the look out for products which contain: placenta (yes, placenta), lead, mercury, fragrance (go for fragrance-free natch), animal parts, hydroquinone skin lightener (huh?), nanoparticles (like nano-pets), phthalates (found in some, okay MOST brands of nail polish and which cause sperm damage and infertility. I'm very upset that essie and OPI are included), and petroleum byproducts (hello and goodbye Vaseline?!).

So yeah, I'm gonna move to a deserted island now and pray to merge into an alternate universe without chemicals. To be honest, I'm not going to stop using any of this stuff. Well maybe, I'll look for organic products with natural ingredients. I'm not sure if I like the scare tactics employed by this site. Shouldn't they have a section for the good products? The FDA sucks, so tell us what to use! Then I did a Google search and learned that there really isn't much out there, especially in terms of safe, natural glittery pretty makeup. This MIGHT be my ticket to self-employment and enjoyable work. If I invent makeup that is safe and amazing and colorful and fun, and then also make a website that doesn't suck to sell it on, I may or may not be working from home in the near future. Motivation!!!!!?

Ho hum.

G-Chatting Yer Mom

Mom: there is a deer in my garden

me: deer in your garden? hahaha

Mom: yea he just boldly walked up and started munching on my flowers

me: hahahahahahahahahah

Mom: good thing I have a lot of flowers or I would have to shoot peas out of a straw
me: WHAT?

Mom: didn't you ever hear of a pea shooter?

me: uh no
Mom: It's an attention getter. You aim it at the deer and shoot. put the pea in your mouth and propell it thru the straw

me: haha wow i should use that on people and pigeons
Mom: or you can use spit balls (you know wadded up wet napkin) made wet by your spit

you have to practice

me: i will practice

during church tonight
Mom: good place to start
Mom: you could probably look up the history I think native tribes used to shoot darts @ prey that way It goes way back maybe prehistoric

me: well naturally, you want to shoot things that bother you

Mom: naturally, Rhonda and I had a conversation today about shooting targets ...funny we should be on it maybe we should be careful and have more loving kind thoughts

me: meh i think violent thoughts are good.
Mom: I never actually thought about it that way.....interesting

Sent at 12:49 PM on Friday

NYC Weekend

Yesterday was one of those perfect weather Saturdays that make me love New York City. I went to a crazy Pilates class taught by an ex-Vegas show-girl. Then I laid by the river with the roommates for an hour, which is definitely the best part about Hoboken. At 3, I went to the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame Annex in SoHo because the limited time exhibit was John Lennon: The New York City Years. It was SO AWESOME. Even without the exhibit, the place was great. I'm a hard core 70's rock fan, and I was definitely born in the wrong decade. It makes me very jealous that my mom has seen all the great 70's bands in concert including Floyd, Zeppelin, Allman Brothers and The Who. Okay well she didn't actually get to see Pink Floyd but she was outside the stadium trying to sneak in..so I hear.

After that, my friend and I went to dinner at a deliciously cheap place. My whole dinner was about $7 including tip. As we were walking back to the subway, we noticed tons of people lining the streets and hundreds of cops. We asked what was going on and they said Obama was going to be driving down 6th Avenue. We waited for about 10 minutes and his entire entourage drove right past us. Apparently he was just having dinner with Michelle in the Village. It was exciting and everyone was cheering. These ladies behind me were practically crying because Michelle waved. 

Later that evening, the roommates and I went to the Lower East Side, realized we didn't fit in because we're too preppy, and then went to the Financial District. I never went out down there, and it's eerily quiet. No traffic, no one on the streets, but when we went into the bar, it was like going back in time and they were playing swing. It felt sort of like a speakeasy. A 68 year old man gave Steph $80 to make sure we got home safe... aka the use of his personal driver or something. I don't even know. But we did take a car home and sat in tunnel traffic for half an hour at 4 am. 

FAIL PIZZA... yes I did that.

What the H?

Today I discovered a cheap way to drink coffee if you're not in the mood for straight free coffee from the dirty work machine in the office kitchen which makes the "coffee" taste like motor oil. Go to Starbucks and get a medium (grande, whatever) iced coffee with milk and a shot of vanilla (or whatever flava-flav you want). It's only $2.11, compared to a Grande vanilla latte which is $4.34. It doesn't make any sense, since it's the same drink, but I will go with it. Pretentious schmucks. Okay, okay it's been called to my attention that it's not the same drink. One is espresso, however they taste the same and they have the same effect. At least on me, but I'm naturally wired so maybe it's entirely different and I just can't tell.

The Never-Ending Graduation Saga

Susan graduated yesterday at noon. It's now noon on Sunday and there's no sign of leaving State College anytime soon. I'm on my MacBook in Irvings because I can't take the anxiety of my family trying to move both of my sisters out. I don't feel bad not helping, because I'm fairly certain that there are 8 too many cooks in the kitchen as it is. Friday, I left work at 2 and my mom and I didn't leave Hoboken until 3:30. Then we had to go home to PA to get her luggage and switch cars. Not only do we have too many cars, we book too many hotel rooms, and we waste too many minutes. Uncle Jack decided to come with us, so he finally rounded up all of his stuff and we were about to get on the highway when some 100 year old woman ran out of oil. So I turned around and went to our gas station. He debated for another 10 minutes... "I better go. She's 100. Nah she'll be okay til tomorrow. Let's just go." "Are you sure? Okay I'm going to start driving." "No I better do it." Brakes. "Just go. Let's go." Accelerate. Phone rings. "Dammit. I have to do it." Drive him home. Half an hour later I get on the highway sans uncle and I drive like a maniac for the next 3 hours to relieve stress. Get to PSU at 10:30pm. We thought we booked two too many hotel rooms so my mom took her own room. 2:30am the uncles and aunt call because some of them don't have a room when they arrive. Someone cancelled one and never told us. They wake up 75 year old grandparents to sleep in their room. 

Saturday 8am. No one knows we have a breakfast reservation except my mom, my dad and me. There are 12 people with us. We finally all sit down by 9am. The uncles never show up. I go up to the buffet, fill my plate and a cup of cranberry juice and as I'm walking back to the table, I slip on the slate floor and catch my balance by flinging all of my food into the air and onto the floor and spilling most of the juice on my hands, the floor and some ancient old lady's white pants. No one in my family notices. Neither does the old lady. I say nothing. I start walking back to my table after getting a waitress to clean it up and I slip again, spilling the rest of the juice all over the floor. Someone should really salt the slate floor. FML. At least I didn't actually fall.

Graduation at noon. "Will all of the alumni stand up? Let's honor them with a round of applause. Penn State is the biggest, most powerful network in the world." Is that a fact? This isn't Communist Russia or Nazi Germany. It's a freakin college in the middle of Pennsylvania. Most of my family stands up with pride. I stand up awkwardly. 

Dinner at 5. We're late so the waitresses are stressed. We wind up sitting there for three hours. I'm sure there were reservations after us, but no one seemed to care as they ordered third cups of coffee, dumping out the cold coffee from minutes before into their water glasses to get a refill of "heat." Meanwhile I can hardly swallow because I'm just uncomfortable. Pappy asks me again, "What are you waiting for? When are you getting married? It's time to have some bambinos." WTF. The family cannot stop saying my sister's boyfriend's name. "Where's Dave? What is Dave doing? Is Dave coming to breakfast? Is Dave going home tonight?" WHO AM I? WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS HAND? WHAT AM I? 

9:30pm a prom starts filtering into the hotel. One girl brings a cardboard cutout of Edward Cullen. FHL. I went out with my uncles and sister and aunt and her friends. I feel old. I drink 2 beers and start falling asleep. The uncles are ready to "Party" at the "Shandygaff." Does anyone call it that these days? It's "The Gaff." I saw a guy wearing a shirt that said, "You can't spell C-ck--cker without OSU" and I felt like I was more mature than my grandmother. I really want to go back to NJ. I need a vacation from my life. 

The Perils of Ordinary Life

I just finished reading this book called, Art & Fear: Observations on The Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking. Susan sent it to me. I read the whole thing entirely on subways, so I read it with an ounce of rage and more than a little irritation usually while standing and aquiring bruises on my limbs from being tossed about the train car. Anyway, two things stood out. "The only work really worth doing - the only work you can do convincingly - is the work that focuses on the things you care about." As suspected, I am unhappy because I don't have enough time to do what I care about. Unfortunately, I'm censoring my life and coloring inside the lines to an extent because I'm afraid of not being able to pay the bills. Can I afford the bills now? No, so I guess that's a moot point, even though "moot" is a stupid word. I am so incredibly sick of the corporate mind set and the pretentious creative surface work of the advertising world.

The other thing that stood out is an obvious point but one that I don't take seriously. " To demand perfection is to deny your ordinary (and universal) humanity, as though you would be better off without it." On some level, I feel like I would be better off without it but that's assuming my soul would survive without a body. I also had this weird revelation on the way home just now that I don't know if I ever want kids. Very cynical but I would kind of feel bad for bringing another human into the world to experience such emotion, mental battles, and... humanity, especially if the kid inherited my intensity and inability to be happy or satisfied, along with my hypochondria and nightmares. This is pessimistic and if I change my mind, I will need to teach the kid about flowers and butterflies and unicorns prancing around in clouds and then raise him or her or them in a faraway land with hobbits and maybe I could marry Kirk Cameron. But that is quite a long way off (God willing). Meanwhile, I will apply to grad schools (NOT in NYC) and keep cursing my life everytime I get another urgent request from the client. Everything is temporary, at least.

BONGO!?

Out of nowhere, and without rhyme or reason, completely randomly, I thought of the movie, "Bongo." Produced in 1971, narrated by Jiminy Cricket, a bear joining the circus and falling in love with a cute girl bear wearing makeup... SO GREAT! Apparently it was only released on video cassette in the late 80's, and we owned it and watched it often. I'm betting my mom gave it away or threw it away which makes me sad because I feel like watching it at this very moment. I specifically thought of the part where he's dreaming and there are train sounds and someone is calling his name. I think the grizzly was named "Lump Jaw" or something.

High On Art

Chris Botti in Boston Album featuring Sting, John Mayer, Steven Tyler, and my favorite:
Cinema Paradiso Chris Botti featuring Yo-Yo Ma

Trouble

I'm thinking that relay flip cup in a random bar while there's a pandemic going around is akin to playing Russian Roulette...

This morning on the way to work, a religious zealot was walking behind me screaming about God or something, so I cranked up my iPod. "Get Low" by Lil Jon was on. What a contrast. It made me smile.

In other news, I'm joining a dodgeball league in the fall. Dodgefall. I have rage issues.

My writing teacher says my style and humor are similiar to Sara Barron's, and she told me to read People Are Unappealing: Even Me. I'm not sure if this is a compliment or not...

A sales rep just sent me a lottery ticket ($220 million). If I win, I'm quitting my job, taking a world tour, and moving to California to surf. SEE YA!

Awkward Models

I'm not saying their jobs are easy. I'm not even saying it's their fault. Maybe the photographer was a creepy old man with a moutache. Maybe they had a stomach virus or were horribly hungover. Perhaps the photo editor is blind. In any case, I noticed these today in random fashion e-blast newsletters I received (specifically, shopittome.com.) Needless to say, I did not even consider buying anything. Here's why:

YIKES!

This girl is totally beat! It looks like she went to a rave all night and barely got up off the floor to attend the photo shoot. WTH! Are those scuba pants??

I'm not even gonna comment on the outfit, but she looks like a heinous bitch. I will not be messing with her. She's a model, she should not look like she's saying, "What are YOU looking at?"

Really? Is this supposed to be seductive or cute or pretty? Because it honestly looks like she's about to suck someone's blood for lunch.

Is she disgusted at being on a reality show? Or maybe she just smells the river.

My favorite: The Ultimate Awkward Pose, Model, and Photo.

Gray on Gray. A thoughtful choice.

Awake Is The New Sleep

Feeling distracted? Lost? Can't focus? Helpless, bored, restless, reckless? Comfortably numb? Not yourself? Stop fighting it and trying to control it and just shut up and live! (This is an ad to my smug self.) 

I started my writing class last night so obviously I should be "crafting" some real "pieces," but obviously I'm going to procrastinate a bit first. Something about sitting through the class woke me up. For the past year... probably 2, I've been trying to conform and I've been thinking too much. I know this because some people from home have been calling me out on being distracted and mentally checked out of situations. Not to make excuses, but that's what happens while you try to get your bearings straight in New York City. When I go home to PA, it's very hard to adjust. It's getting easier to go back and forth, but it was painful for awhile. Kind of like trying to physically mutate during the 2 hour commute. Stuff isn't how it should be and it's awkward.

Okay, maybe it's not just the place. Maybe it's that I'm not doing enough. I have more energy when I'm so busy I schedule time for sleep, and I've always juggled 100 things. Since graduating, my activities are work, sleep, go out, pilates. Not enough at all. This week I applied myself at work, and I felt better about that. It's not saving lives, and it's probably the devil's industry, but it's better than sitting in my cube bored and restless all week. The class is good for me, and I'm going to paint more and... learn to cook (kidding). I'm also going to do more cultural, creative things in the city in my free time. Anyone interested? This is a soul search project of sorts. I'm not trying to be happy. I'm trying to find things that are exciting and interesting and creative. I know I won't be content, so I need to be busy. 

I don't know why I decided to stay in NY. Maybe it's a project. Maybe I'm being stubborn. Maybe this is where I'm supposed to be. For whatever reason, I feel like I need to be here kind of. I've always wanted to move to Europe or CA, but maybe that's an old dream. I have no clue actually! It doesn't matter. I'm just going to keep walking in the dark, blind, looking for inspiration until it clocks me in the head when I least expect it, because that's how it works.

Listen to the last 1:52 with a candle burning and you'll see your entire future (I made that up)

Boring Week

Thanks YSL! I smell exactly like an old woman's closet. 

However, I did get the most amazing free gift from Benefit worth $113!!!!!! 

I Feel Relatively Neutral Towards NY

Hearts and Stars:

• Winning the bracket ($500!) and being 5 points behind the guy that won the $10k national bucket. If I wasn't an idiot and had entered the CBS Sportsline bracket for free, I would've been 18th in the country... out of approximately 2 MILLION people. My uncle did the math.  I picked my teams randomly within about 2 minutes one morning, and I have no idea how this happened. If it happens again, I'm retiring to Vegas
• Fondly and randomly recalling my sister's childhood love for Hampster Habitrails
• Finding pizza I actually like at Vezzo 
• blip.fm which is like music Twitter but much more useful (because new music is exciting)
• Madison Square Park has flowers and green finally
• Moving soon just because I like to move
• I had a dream that I was in outer space looking at earth through a window
• Tomorrow is David's 19th birthday and he makes me happy
• The BBC Planet Earth series. It's addictive and they say things like, "Wild ass, the great nomads..." like it's not funny! I would like to know what sober stiff did the voiceover without laughing.

Kicks and Shoves:

• Having negative dollars in my bank account. Literally.
• Hearing a Meatloaf song that spawned my fear of wolves and my hatred for roses. My dad used to blast it in the car in the 80's and I haven't been the same since 
• Sitting next to lunching mega-rich ladies who pay over $5k a month for their apartments (I know because they talked about it)
• Snow in April or anytime except Christmas
• The Path train and especially homeless people on it, except for Teddy
• Someone threw their dead flowers onto our terrace. My mom thought maybe it was the equivalent of throwing rocks at our window, but told me not to find out because it might be a trap. I'm pretty sure our upstairs neighbors are just dimwits
• The floor in my apartment is buckling from water leaking in through the terrace
• smugmug.com because they never posted our random pictures from the PSU Art Crawl
• Always feeling like my ribs are broken from Pilates and laughing too much out of hysteria

When I Was A Kid...

Random Goings-on

Penn State won the NIT (No Invitation Tournament) game last night. It was amazing how many PSU fans were there. It made me seriously miss State College, but luckily I'm going this weekend for my sister's gallery show! This morning I saw an old lady with gauged earrings all over her ears and a leather jacket with white-out drawings of skulls on it. She was rockin. I hope I'm that cool as a senior citizen. I also think it's sad when people hand out materials about Jesus on the streets. I say "no thanks" to everything people hand out, but it's especially funny when I have to say "no thanks" to god. Typical New York. At work we have an ad unit called "Site in a Box." What does that remind you of? I'm moving two floors up in 3 weeks. I have to miss alumni weekend, but we're saving money and most of us know that Blue and White weekend last year was quite intense. I had a hotel room, but slept in a car. Does anyone want to help us carry couches and beds on April 25th? Free beer and a high 5?

FML

I signed up for a writing class, thinking I could use my tax refund. Then I realized that I already got my refund directly deposited on March 2nd. It's such a low amount that I didn't even notice. FML. I blame Democrats and AIG. Just because!!! UGH! Whatever. 

Tar Heels, Bird Dogs, + My Dad's Kid Rock

First of all, I am still #1 in my bracket. I've never liked/watched/cared about basketball, so naturally I picked randomly based on my feelings towards the school or state. Literally I only lost 11 games out of 60. All of my picks got to the Final Four. Now I just need Michigan State and Carolina to win next Saturday and then the Tar Heels (what is that?) need to take it all. My sports fanatic uncles and their friends probably hate me... :)

I went home yesterday because I haven't been home since early February and the patriarch requested my presence at dinner and church. Can't say no to my grandfather. Ever. So Saturday after a 3 hour commute, I went to play with my uncle's new hunting puppy, Luke. I wanted to take him home but then I remembered that he would grow up and have the urge to drag dead birds around, so I let that thought go.














I had dinner at Grammy's and seriously it's like I haven't eaten in months. Her food is so good. David and I always talk about how she has secrets and adds a little of this and a little of that and stuff tastes so much better! Also her house is so calming and it makes me happy.

David's prayer: "God, thank you for that song "Chickens for Peace," but I don't get it because chickens are not peaceful.Father, Son, Holy Spirit, Amen."

Saturday night Erin came with me to get mom at the airport and then I stayed at Erins. Today I went to church, breakfast, and visited with the family more. My dad took me to meet Steph in Easton in his new toy. It's a gigantic hemi truck thing? I had to climb into it... imagine two giant steps up. Mother may I? It has a "Kid Rock" license plate and a speaker system that sort of makes my ears bleed. It also has a horn that sounds like a train and another horn option that whistles at girls aka me and my stepmom. And we wonder why I don't seriously date very often. L O L.

Panama in the City

Yesterday I was going to blog because it was a weird day, but then I got home too late and fell asleep, so here is a recap. I woke up out of a dream in which there was a giant bluebird on an ocean and I was standing on a ledge. The little sister did some research and told me that it means happiness and sadness and a resolution to the paradoxes in my life (doubtful!). "The dream may also represent a lack of understanding in the affairs of the heart." (Lulz)

Tuesday is stupid in general and we should all work from home, so naturally everything was annoying. The office dog was here and I had a demented urge to give it some Hershey's kisses. My team announced to the entire agency that I was, in fact, researching sex shops for a new business pitch. The night before, one of the top people here looked at me and asked, "Sneaker Monday?" FML. I also decided that Twitter is stupid but I will try to stay on board. Last night I went to the International Independent Film and Video Festival and that was just great. There were some creepy Italian shorts (Panama! What would Panama be without me?) and some bizarre existential American numbers. I can't really describe it, but it was amusing and well worth the $16 ($15 for the movies, $1 for the kid asking me to support his Morningside basketball team aka his big brother's crack habit).

After the show, I finally went to the Croc Lounge on the Far East Side. It was glorious. Dive bar + Free Pizza + Hilarious Bartender + Skiball? You can't go wrong!

Okay, really I'm just killing 10 minutes, so now I'm gonna release you back into cyberspace. I have nothing else to say because I forgot the point of this.

Not for the Faint of Heart....

For work, I happen to be researching sex shops (Don't ask). It's fairly interesting, because I can't imagine Googling these places otherwise, let alone walking into the shops without a disguise or an entourage. Some of the shops are fine, but some are just seriously freaky! I don't know why, since this is Manhattan, but I always just feel like everyone knows me. I actually will walk down the street repeating memorized poetry or songs just in case people can hear my thoughts. It's crazy, but true. I don't even think about interesting things usually. I just cling to privacy and it would really bother me if I found out someone could read me. I'm good at figuring other people out, but I do not want to be figured out totally, if that makes sense.

Anyway, these websites are pretty awkward, hence I'm trying to do the research at home, instead of in the cube tomorrow. I need to find out if these shops have done advertising, advertise now, have an agency, or would be willing to advertise. This information is elusive apparently. The websites will tell me about every fetish I didn't want to imagine, but I can't find a damn flyer to save my life.

WARNING: This website contains adult material. If you are under 18, or if sex toys and sexually explicit material offends you, leave.

(Sheesh)

If you are not over 21 years of age, if adult material offends you, or if you are accessing this site from any country or locale where adult material is specifically prohibited by law, Please Do Not Enter This Site.

(Oook now I really feel like I'm being bad and I'm really scared to click thru. Also funny that these websites are all serving up ads for Vegas..)

Am I really gonna have to do a sex shop tour to find answers?! Do you even know how many sex shops there are in New York City? Can't I have the cupcakes and icecream category instead?

*Sigh* Such is life.

Vegas

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That is all.

Portlandia

Portland: I'm not sure if I can blame my futile expectations for sunlight, my miserable sinus infection, or the jet lag, but it's not really what I imagined. Or something. I guess I knew it would rain and I know it's winter, but I managed to forget a coat and my umbrella in Jersey. I'm also culture shocked and I'm buzzing around like a maniac while the rest of the city sits around in used book stores sipping on soy tea lattes on weekdays at 10 a.m. Doesn't anyone work? I saw lots of dreadlocks, homeless people, coffee shops, funny bumper stickers, and heard lots of new age bands playing on the radios.

I got here really late on Sunday night so I basically just went to bed. Monday we looked at some apartments, went to the giant book store (I got a Dalai Lama book and the new Augusten Burroughs collection and Susan picked out a story for me about a NYC girl who moves to the country and finds herself.. hint hint?) Then we drove down to the water to look at these giant high rise condos that they are now renting out since the economy is so bad. I saw a 2 bedroom that was the same price I pay now and twice the size. I felt like the kids in Eurotrip when they got to Bratislava. "Ah! A nickel!" The weather is absolutely insane and my mom says it matches my moods. One minute it's sunny and then it's hailing. Then it will be snowing peacefully and then torrentially downpouring. We had dinner at this romantical little place down the street from the hotel that grows their own food on a local farm. If I could taste, I would tell you it was delicious. They played some indie music and new age stuff, including a little number featuring a rubber duckie. No joke.

Today I went to W+K for an informational sit-down meeting. I was raging from all the medicine and the cold, but I managed to schmooze my way through it. The space is amazing. 6 floors of a warehouse, including a gym, yoga studio, nap rooms and hammocks on the deck. I was then informed that "media people work long hours." Oh, really? I had no idea. I mean this place invented the Nike brand, so I guess it wouldn't be a bad gig. I'm just not jiving or something! What is up with this? Then we ate cupcakes, saw another studio apartment, ate lunch at a dingy little bar with velvet booths, and then I took a 4 hour nap while Susan interviewed. They got back and went in the hot tub while I mentally wrestled in a fitful sleep. Around 5 we drove to this place in the NE ghetto that used to be a school but was transformed into a huge venue with restaurants, bars, a $3 movie theatre, and a spa. Weird, but totally appropriate in this city. For those Twilight fans out there, I did see Edward up here in the NW! Because the movie playing happened to be Twilight. Yes, I managed to sit through it again and yes, I laughed the entire time... again. We ate dinner in the school pipe room and Susan and I jukeboxed some Pink Floyd, Ben Harper and The Strokes. We fit in... 

I can't decide if I'm actually not feeling this vibe, or if I'm not letting myself because I'm not ready to leave New York on some level. I want to be ready to leave and do something different and rock my gypsy soul, but maybe I'm just not. Or something. 

I may or may not write again from Vegas, but I had to blog Portland before I get distracted... 

Out of Office Biotch

I will be out of the office Monday through Friday (March 9-13) with limited access to email (there's no way in hell I'm checking email on my vacation). I'll be busy having drinks in the sun and finding high rollers to be my sugar daddies while you slave away in corporate Hell and harass my voicemail and inbox. I will get back to you as soon as possible when I return on Monday, March 16th if what you have to say matters to me at all, which I doubt it does.

If this is urgent (are you dead, bleeding, on fire?), please email my boss, but he probably won't respond because you're annoying.

Thank you and have a great week, suckers!

A Day in the Life

Here's a typical day at work for me and most of my friends:

9:10am (slightly late: not too kiss ass, but not too slack off): log in and immediately open Outlook, Gmail, and a music website (imeem, pandora, or myspace)

9:15am: start a chat conversation with roommate that will last all day long. Literally yesterday my roommate and I logged an 854 line chat. I know, because Gmail records it.

The chat starts with 1 of 3 things

1. I feel really sick and/or I feel like I was run over by a freaking Path train.

2. I cannot believe we're at work AGAIN. EFF THIS. When is it Friday!?

3. Seriously kill me. I am in a cage.

9:20am: Deleting and filing work emails, reading newsletters (DailyCandy, Thrillist), checking Facebook, reading advertising trade article headlines

9:25am: Phone rings... time to put on the headphones and blast Metal or Seriously Hard Rock. Phone call gets ignored. ALWAYS. 

9:30am: Shuffle to kitchen for coffee. Coffee is gone? Definitely too lazy to make more. Tea it is. Add lots of sugar. 

10:30am: Somehow it's 10:30. But it's still only 10:30. OMG. Chat with roommate about boys (Trevors: see old Blog) or how much work sucks or how we should probably move to San Diego because the weather is horrendous and this city is stupid. Email fellow office spacing midtowner about something incredibly random and ridiculous. BlackBerry chat about upcoming Vegas vacation. Text sister.

10:40am: More GChats begin. I spend at least 10 minutes every hour for the rest of the day clicking on links sent to me by friends:

Listen to this song. It's so accurate. 

Watch this video

LOL look at this!

Read this.

Meanwhile, I am doing work, but I lose focus every few minutes. Somehow I still get it all done and I still manage to be an over-achiever while answering friends with witticisms and cynicism and while suppressing explosive laughter all day long. Talk law schooler through class.

11am: Ugh time for a meeting. Draw violently in the margins and nod occasionally.

12:00: Wow, it's only noon. Granola bar time. Email sisters 

"Enjoy college, because after that your time is going to be monopolized by a cubicle and Excel. HELP. Listen to this song, you'll never guess what happened, can't wait til vacation la la la"

12:30pm: Possibly take an hour lunch or just sit in the cube with a microwaved mini Tupperware square bowl of leftover noodles and curse my cooking skills.

12:45pm: Start an email chain with college friends

1pm: Realize I wasted most of the morning and manage to focus for a full 30 minutes on a spreadsheet. Pat on back! 

1:30pm: Google how to play bass guitar, or a map of Oregon, or how many Earths fit inside Jupiter (990). Cannot focus! It's a struggle!

1:45pm: Read email replies from college friends and sisters. Immediately reply back.

-> Sister: "You're very dramatic."

3pm: Copy and paste funny quotes from friends to other friends and threaten to quit Corporate America and become a teacher or work in a coffee shop or bartend. Swearing ensues. I need vodka. I need Saturday. You settle down!

4:15pm: OMG NEED TO LEAVE! 

4:20pm: Little sister calls 

Sister: Whatcha doin?

Me: uh, same thing I was doing yesterday and every day...working?! What else would I be doing?! :)

4:30pm: 30 minutes to go. Home stretch, frantically send follow up emails, plug in numbers, and calculate CPMs and Rates while changing playlists and song surfing every 40 seconds

5pm: PEACE! On a good day, on a bad day it's more cursing, frantic number crunching, and laughing out loud from delirium until I can leave at 6:30pm in a mad dash to the elevator bank.

Ah, to be young and restless in Manhattan! 

Tax Evasion!

There are certain things I should never have to do myself. One is file my own taxes, because it is obnoxious and stupid and I probably did it wrong and will probably get arrested for illegally living in a living room for a year. FML. ezTaxReturn.com? More like yoursessionhastimedout.com. So freaking annoying! I also never want to set up my own internet, hang my own curtains or mow the lawn. Not just because I'm a girl, but because these things are tedious and hellish and I refuse. That is all.

Music is My Boyfriend

This is maybe the coolest site ever: Musicovery : interactive webRadio. Define your mood. Select some genres and decades and then look at all the pretty colors. I found it years ago and forgot about it, but I'm totally bringing this back now.

What's My Age Again?

I'm very emotional and I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps it's because I've been listening to the Where the Light Is: John Mayer Live in LA album on repeat for the past 3 days. It could also be because I'm turning 24 tomorrow, which to me, signifies the absolute end of being a child. Okay that's probably not entirely true. I still don't know how to do my taxes or cook a piece of chicken. I have no clue about mortgages or getting married or taking care of someone else. In a way, age is just another social invention. Yes, our bodies get older, our minds deteriorate, and our souls mature, but who says I have to settle down and stop being restless and crazy? My resolution for my 25th year in this life is to stop trying to conform.

In a sick twisted way, I'm only in NYC working in Advertising out of rebellion.... against myself. My dream forever was to be a writer and make movies. I was watching the Academy Awards and was reminded of that. So why did I switch my major from Film to Advertising? Because I thought it would be fun.. at the time. On that one day in my Freshman seminar, I could picture myself at work in the city in a high rise building going to lunches and schmoozing. Now that is my life, and it's not really me but it's scary that I created it out of one daydream. It was just me playing dress up in my mind!

Advertising is easy. Actually most things are pretty easy and I could be good at it if I cared enough. But I'm not passionate about it. Some days I love New York City and my conformed life. It's really fun and I know tons of people and I go out enough. I curse the sunrise as I walk home on weekend mornings because the bars close at 4am and I go to fancy restaurants with sales reps and someone always has a plan. For a restless, distracted person, this place is mecca and hell. My friends that know me the most though, know that this place isn't totally me. It doesn't really suit who I am. Now that I see their perspective, it's so obvious. I'm only here because I was rebelling. My plan was always to move to CA after graduation. Then I was in a relationship and it became "our" plan. So when that ended, I was like screw you, I'm going to your least favorite city in the country. And I moved to NYC... against his will and against my own, which is pretty stupid in retrospect. I proved to myself that I can live in New York and I can get jobs and shake hands with VIPs etc. In my head though, I'm laughing at the entire situation. It's very funny to me how seriously some people take this and how much control I'm given. And then I get caught up in "the game" and obsessing and stressing about guys, when in reality, I never want to date a guy that makes me stressed!

It's SO OBVIOUS NOW! I'm living a fake life for me. I'm lying to myself by living inside the lines. I don't follow rules and I'm not meant to be in a cube or an office building. "What do I have to lose by moving and changing my path? What do I have to gain by staying?" Now I just need to constantly remind myself of what I was planning to do so I don't get distracted by all of the pretty lights and the smug, replaceable boys in generic bars. Here's the plan: I'm going to move to Portland with my sister and work some stupid job for a year while I write and get a portfolio together. Then I'm going to apply to schools in California for writing and I'm going to go in 2010 to get a Masters. From there I will hopefully get a deal and work from home in sweatpants with my coffee grinder and dark curtains. If that doesn't pan out right away, I can teach at a college. I need to be creative all the time and I need outlets besides drinking and gossiping and blogging. No offense blog world! I do love blogging.

I'm always going to be easily bored and I'm always going to change my mind and wishes. I should just let myself, because it's who I am. When I fight that urge to move and do something different, I'm just repressing who I am. I won't grow out of it. I listen to music to match my moods. I have a new life plan every day. I love things with passion and I hate things with intensity. I wish my body could stay 23 forever, but I hope my soul ages for the rest of time so I never stay in one state because that would be awful.


In memory of being 23, here's a playlist summarizing the past year give or take a few songs:

Rodeo Clowns: Jack Johnson
What's My Age Again? Blink 182
Konstantine: Something Corporate
My Sundown: Jimmy Eat World
Landed: Ben Folds
Pretty Eyes: Jason Reeves
Motorcycle Drive By: Third Eye Blind
How My Heart Behaves: Feist
Take A Bow: Rihanna
Rockin' in the Free World: Neil Young
Hot Child in the City: Nick Gilder
Our Song: Taylor Swift
Sexy Can I: Ray J
Chicken Fried: Zac Brown Band
Heavy Metal Drummer: Wilco
Africa: Toto
Speakerphone: Kylie Minogue
23: Jimmy Eat World
I won't always love what I'll never have. I won't always live in my regret.
Stop This Train: John Mayer
So scared of getting older; I'm only good at being young; So I play the numbers game; To find a way to say that life has just begun; Don't stop this train; Don't for a minute change the place you're in

Mission: Cake, Central Park, 24

Friday I went to a super secret undercover sample sale with J9 as her +1. We planned to meet on the subway, because there's something spy, action hero movie and exciting about that feat. I was going to get on the first car at 28th and Park and then at the next stop, stick my head out the door. The timing had to be perfect, so no one was waiting around awkwardly on the platform with the rats. So we were thinking we should probably wear cloaks and carry mysterious briefcases and wear sunglasses. "If I wave once.... jump on. If I fist pump... run to the other end of the train and jump on the last car. If I thumbs up... go back to the office. If I thumbs down, I'm being held hostage."

Of course, I was late and she was already at Grand Central, so I stood around in my sunglasses for awhile and then I had to call her (very discreet) and we met in the giant green room with the clocks and I couldn't stop laughing to save my life for some reason. We would be terrible spies. Here we are being ridiculous:










Friday night, Susan, Sarah and Nicole came for my birthday. We got Grimaldi's pizza. It's the best ever, but they said 15 minutes, and it was more like an hour and 15 minutes. Nicole called twice. We were nice about it, but we were starving and then we felt awful when the delivery guy turned out to be way past retirement age. I still feel bad. He probably got fired after 60 years of working there, because we were hungry. Sad face. I bet he was THE Mr. Grimaldi! We then watched Wedding Crashers and some Fashion Week coverage on the local channel. Grammy sent a cake (the most delicious cake in the entire world, hands down. Pink icing and rainbow sprinkles, especially for me!!!!) Instead of singing, they brought it into the living room, still wrapped and put it on the coffee table. Then we each had a piece and used "funtensils." Now, that's style.









Saturday we went to the Central Park zoo. It was smelly, but mildly entertaining. The penguins were cute and the sleepy polar bear was cuddly in an enormous flesh eating carnivore sort of way. I was fascinated by the bats/mice/alligator tank. They were bats on crack. It was pretty cool. I did not enjoy the safari room. Birds flying around as they please with no glass between us? Not cool at all. From there we walked around the park and took pictures.









Then we went to the West side and enjoyed little cupcakes at Buttercup Bake Shop. When Sarah was born, I really wanted to name her Buttercup. I was so disappointed when they made me name my doll that instead. That would've been a great name for a real baby. We kind of nicknamed her that, so I thought it would be cute to take her to the Buttercup Bake Shop . Peanut Butter and jelly cupcake? Delicious. And I'm not really a dessert person. I prefer salt, but between Grammy's cake and the PBJ cupycake, it was a good weekend for sweets. Then we saw He's Just Not That Into You. ("That was stupid.") I was surprised that it was really nothing like the book at all and had a girl ending. As in, it basically nixed the entire premise of the book and gave most of the characters a happy ending. "You're the rule, not the exception" is the book, but the movie was, "But you're my exception." Vom. I did laugh a few times though. We had dinner at Chat N' Chew, and then came back to the Jerz and watched Vanity Fair and Knocked Up.

It was nice not being hungover at all this weekend. This week will be busy though. Concerts Monday and Wednesday, along with turning 24 (ugh) and taking a mid-week day off because I feel like it. Two weeks until Portland and Vegas. Can't wait.

Yer Mom

me: yeah i would like to retire in carmel CA

mom: I think we can do that If we all pool together. shall we? actually let's do it sooner than later

me: haha well I need to retire then. let's just visit and see what there is to do for jobs!

its very artsy

you dont like WA?

mom: I love it for now but one must keep dreaming I get bored easy-wonder where you get that from?

Well, there's no question about it. She is my mother. I wonder if boredom and discontent is genetic or learned? Thoughts? I just found it funny, because she sounds exactly like me. Or I guess I sound exactly like her.... it's also funny that we were g-chatting.