Here's McLovin, a 25 year-old Hawaiian organ donor.

Lay down your pitchforks. I'm not moving to Iowa. Effing place rejected me. I knew I hated them for beating Penn State, plus who wants yellow as a school color? Only the worst schools have that.. cough...Michigan.. cough, cough, cough. I go back and forth between knowing I won't get accepted anywhere since it's so competitive and similar to winning the lottery, then feeling like I'm cocky for even applying, followed by a rush of wind and a shatter which is my dreams being crushed. Some days I forget why I applied in the first place, since the thought didn't cross my mind until a year ago, then I read a book and rationalize that I could never write with such attention and dedication, while being clever and fresh. Most days I'm just anxious, clutching my phone and staring at my inbox. If one more person tells me not to worry, I'll get accepted, I'm great enough, I will stab them with a proverbial pen, I swear to G. I should get used to rejection though, since all published people could paper their kitchen with rejection letters. I was just thinking it could be my ticket out of here (here = this career, routine, petty drama). Maybe my goals are too modest, and I should've moved to Europe after graduation to escape all things mediocre and predictable, but I guess in the end, that's a cliche too.

Today I may or may not have seen Mclovin, enjoying a pink cosmo at Heartland Brewery in Union Square. He looked a little older than I think the real Christopher Mintz-Platypus (whatever) is.

Then I bought myself a birthday present, because I was highly anxious after almost crying in a restaurant due to either empathy or anger or utter frustration at life. The glass of wine encouraged me, and the birthday discount from Anthropologie didn't hurt. I would like to work there. Anyway, I have a new mug that looks like a peasant painted it and a headband that cost more than a steak dinner. But you know what? I'm only 25 on the 25th once, and I'm not going to be in Vegas as I always dreamed I would be at midnight in 26 hours. So I don't care. At all. Ugh. I should move to Hawaii. I'm already an organ donor and now I'll be 25 too. Perfect.

True Life: Office Space

Email received today regarding an important meeting tomorrow:

In order for the office to look as busy as we are, we are in need of a few more live bodies to be bustling around and looking productive. If anyone has any friends, or enemies even, who happen to have a free morning and would like to come in from 9 to 10:30ish and earn $20 and a bagel (possibly a muffin), please let us know…

Please Fire Me.

Later that day another email...

Please make every effort to be here no later than 9am on Friday, even better - 8:45. I will be working in the "conference room" first thing in the morning. Please come visit me every fifteen minutes. Please wear shoes that make noise when you walk..

Hard to know what's a joke and what's real these days...to clarify, this actually happened.

Friday, I Wuv You and Hate You.

Fridays are a drag. I'm happy to have off for the next three days, but Fridays are either so stressful and busy because everyone procrastinates all week, or they're really slow and I want to sleep under my desk with the roaches, rather than stare at my uber bright computer screen for one more second.

Today's survival tips:

1. Actually read all the e-newsletters in your inbox. I'm somewhat fascinated by these manly anti-princess/unicorn/poodle cupcakes:

2. Go to lunch for once. Eat something besides yogurt and granola bars. Thai for example.

3. Create Pandora station based on the Original Broadway Cast Wicked soundtrack. It will play things from Rent, Glee, Lion King, Aladdin, and hopefully Hercules and Little Mermaid.

4. Join the Facebook group SECRET NEW YORK and make lofty plans to finally explore the city after 2.5 years of living here...starting with Chelsea Market.

5. Start watching the digital clocks on computer, phone, cell phone, and ipod and wonder if this is some kind of sick joke.

P.S. You know what this weekend is... so here you go. This will likely be my only mention of VDay unless I actually get shot in the heart with a real arrow, in which case I'll think of a humorous and dramatic play by play account and post pics of the surgical removal of said arrow.

It's a snow day, yet I made myself come to work, and then proceeded to procrastinate for much of the day.... what was the point of that?

Life is hard and complicated, but when it seems like a mess, I try to remember that it could be worse. It's also good to imagine earth from space. Then there's this: GUY

When I was in the middle of being a divorce kid (yes, that's the official label), I used to sit in my Dad's office alone from ages 11-17 and copy quotes from inspirational books by hand. In my novel, that is meant to be funny, but in reality, it kept me sane. I still do that and this is one of my favorite books for quotes: How To Win Friends and Influence People. I read it like 5 times at least. I definitely recommend.

For once, I think I'm pretty happy in life, and I'm going in a direction I'm excited about, but of course there are plenty of wrenches and banana peels thrown in the path. I guess it would be boring otherwise. I kind of miss home, and I keep having nightmares about family. It's likely fear of loss or change.

Quote I just came across: We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy.

Oh wait, what was the point of this post? Just me procrastinating more obviously. ugh.

When Dish Soap Freezes, It's Time to Use the Heat.

A few things: First, this morning at 1am I spilled Sonic Boom colored nail polish all over my room. That kicked off an awesome day in which the Path was slow, therefore packed. I actually saw a man wait on the edge of the platform until he heard the bell ring to close the doors and then he threw himself sideways into the car... knocking approximately 35 people out of the way. When I finally got to the city, I got coffee to help me stay awake after a very late evening. The coffee tasted like chemicals or bleach or possibly rat poisoning. I assumed it was from the throat spray with zinc I had taken the night before, but Shaun (ze bf) said he didn't notice any changes to his taste buds. I dumped the coffee. See ya later $1.75 . From now on, I'm going to the Starbucks on 5th Ave. and 29th Street. Here's why: whenever I get an afternoon drink, the girl who makes my coffee is so freaking nice. She says, "I hope it's perfect for you, have a great day! Sorry about the wait!" My God, where's the tip jar?

I got to work and already had two blinking, waiting, perky voicemails from sales reps. I checked them and ignored calls for the rest of the day. It rang more times than cabs honk in NYC.. okay that's an exaggeration, but still, it was a lot. I don't answer the phone on days that begin with M, T, W or F. Note to reps: I have caller i.d. Don't stalk me, or I'll take you off the plan.

Here's a truth: Lies The Teachers Tell You

Overheard in the boardroom: "We don't f***ing want to work with you, motherf***er." And that's why I need a career change. Also because of phrases like "halo effect" and "brand ambassador" and "bang for your buck." HUH? Still no word from schools. Help.

I want this:

What I really want is that stuffed animal maybe. I can't actually take care of it, nor do I want it to grow up.

Last weekend, Shaun, who is the best boyfriend ever, and I went to AC just because. I'm happy that he's spontaneous too. We had no idea there was a snowstorm there, but it was still really fun. We stayed in Brigantine, and one cab driver, when asked to take us there, said "No, no please. Please exit the car. I can't go there. No way, no how," as if we had asked him to drive us into the pits of Hell. We got out, after Shaun spilled his beer all over the car. It was an accident! Really! No, really. We got to the hotel, changed, and got a car back to Borgata. I lost $40 on the slots, and managed to lose my Borgata card within 4 minutes of receiving it. We sat with a table of making out girls wearing the sluttiest outfits I've ever seen, and I saw a middle aged woman hump the air for no apparent reason. I also got paraded through the poker room, and I am pretty sure I was mistaken for a rare cut of prime rib, judging from the looks on many faces. We left in a jiffy.

Dear Diary,

Next weekend is skiing in the Poconos with some PSU/Philly crew, and then Isabelle's shower on Sunday. I am excited! BYE. Oh yeah, and today I had coffee with Uncle Eric and his friend Leroy and we discussed the color of scrapple (squirrel color) and the joys of Pabst. ialso drank 44 ounces of Minute Maid Lite Lemonade from the fountain. After work, I made Cocoa Rice Krispies with Poofin and ate the heads off his Dino Nuggets. They were nom.

Love,

Yourself.

This Is What I Do All Day....

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