I hear the drizzle of the rain
Like a memory it falls
Soft and warm continuing
Tapping on my roof and walls.

And from the shelter of my mind
Through the window of my eyes
I gaze beyond the rain-drenched streets
To England where my heart lies.

My mind's distracted and diffused
My thoughts are many miles away
They lie with you when you're asleep
And kiss you when you start your day.

And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you.

And as I watch the drops of rain
Weave their weary paths and die
I know that I am like the rain
There but for the grace of you go I.

------------------------

Sometimes Simon and Garfunkel make more sense than I ever could.
Happy Christmas.
See you in the spring...maybe.

Work is there when love is gone,
Smell of coffee, break of dawn.

Hey blog, remember me? Sorry i'm a terrible contributor. I've been carrying on an elicit affair with my e-mail account, but i'm trying to avoid that right now because there's an email that I need to send that I really don't want to. Too much has happened since last we spoke, I can't possibly summarize it all, but I promise i'll try to be more diligent. That picture was taken at Columbia University, over Morningside Park at 7:25am.

Expectations are Everything

The preceeding 18 hours sum up my entire summer; nee, my entire life.

So last night, after perusing reddit and seeing a million posts about dudes needing help dating and getting girlfriends, I decided I need to start a business where I am a practice date. I'll go out with these sad sacks and give them tips on not being so creepy and let them practice actually talking to girls. Because, let's face it, i'm the nicest girl ever, a fabulous conversationalist, and I can discuss nerdy things like Magic and Star Wars, and it's high time someone else starts financing my drinking habit. But anyway, that's another post in and of itself. So i'm perusing the "strictly platonic" section of CraigsList looking to see if there's a market for my services, when suddenly this post catches my eye:

m4w28: Since the US Open men's final was rescheduled for Monday, my original friend cannot attend, I'm looking for someone who likes tennis who would like to accompany me

Now, after hemming and hawing for a while, I decided, (while talking it through ad naseum with Meg- thanks Meg!) to suck it up and message this guy. It's the men's final for fucks sake! So after a million correspondences through e-mail, gchat, and text, we both come to the conclusion that the other one isn't a serial killer or a prostitute, and agree to meet up. Now, the forecast for today called for rain, so this morning my new Indian financial consultant bff from Boston starts stressing about whether or not he should bother taking the train down if it's just going to get rescheduled again. So around 10am he apologizes and says he's just going to try and sell the tickets, because he can't take off work tomorrow if they get rescheduled again, and he doesn't want to risk coming down for naught.

I'm a bit bummed, but it's understandable. I mean the fact that he was going to just donate one ticket to a random stranger was some above and beyond kindness. So, no big deal, i'm over it. Then at like 3:10pm he gchats me and says he was unable to sell the tickets and it's a shame for them to go unused, so here they are, I should use them. So after freaking out and jumping around for five minutes, and profusely thanking this guy, and accepting his friendship on facebook, and promising to buy him several beers or a reasonably priced meal (hope he likes tacky Russian lunch specials) if he's ever in NYC, my dad and I shag ass to the Billie Jean National (not regional) Tennis Arena. So then at 3:45 (we're 10 min away) I get a call from the kid. Basically he goes "I'm really really sorry, please don't use my tickets, I was able to sell them at the very last minute, i'm so so so sorry yadda yadda yadda"

this was how i felt

So then I get home, and this kid continues to text me apologies that get progressively creepy and just unnecessary. Things like:
"you're really beautiful, and I hope one day I get the chance to make this up to you"
"if I were there... I would have given you a stick to beat me... I promise, If I am given the opportunity, I will make this up to you"
Because that's exactly what I want to hear. Please, bother me for 12 straight hours, pull the rug out from under me (crushing my US Open dreams) and then awkwardly compliment and hit on me. Obviously that is the quickest way to a woman's heart.

So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go repeatedly run straight into a brick wall, because that will ultimately be more successful than anything else I've endeavored to do this summer.

I wont ever ask, if you don't ever tell me

My first US Open!
You'd think being a tennis fan for my entire life, and living 20 minutes away, I'd be an Open regular, but no. Thanks mobs and beans for coming up to visit and watch some quality stuff white people like.

Brooklyn Bridge Park Pier. I'd post the picture of Kim, Roman, and I but 5 nights of drinking has rendered me hideous and bloated. Time to detox. But I still had to commemorate your visit.

Obligatory? As an Art Historian, I've studied a fuck-ton of memorials and monuments and I think these lights are always really tasteful and appropriate.

I need you like water in my lungs.

Sometimes I feel like this:




Tomorrow is September 1st. I don't know what i'll do if I don't hear from Pratt this week. It's so close I can taste it. I can visualize my Brooklyn apartment and my tree wallpaper and cranberry and lemon color scheme. I can visualize my Queen size bed and you snuggling in it. Gahhhhh.
Okay, tomorrow I stop reading old diary entries because I'm seriously driving myself crazy.

It needs to be fall.
Or at least Sam Adams needs to come out with their Octoberfest already. And Brooklyn Brewery their pumpkin beer.

Let me preface this by saying I just re-read the entirety of my livejournal (2002-2006) and am a firm believer that my depressed and mostly drunk ramblings tell a more captivating story than any of the 23 short stories that make up "Haunted" by Chuck Palahniuk. This is a book review, skip it if you want to, I could really care less. I miss school and being forced to analyze everything I digest, so deal with it, bitches.

As previously mentioned, I was really resistant to reading this guy, and now I know exactly why. The premise sounded so promising! I had such high hopes of being terrified and repulsed as 17 aspiring writers trapped in an abandoned theater became more desperate in their attempts to get out; what actually happened was much in the same vein of the novel itself. I WANTED to enjoy it, but instead I just ended up wanting to cut off my fingers and toes hoping it would make things more interesting. Palahniuk (aside from having one of the most annoying last names possible) is a really bad writer. Like head scratchingly bad. I suppose I could get used to his "staccato" style which everyone seems to praise (because they can't follow sentences with more than 10 words in them?) if it were a cohesive novel with one voice and one plot line. But this was a book with (let me repeat myself) TWENTY THREE short stories supposedly written by SEVENTEEN separate voices. I don't think Palahniuk realized this, and therefore wrote all seventeen stories with the same voice and the same style. Really? I mean at least TRY to make the seventy year old lady, the thirteen year old kid, and the forty year old man sound like seperate people. Or, if you can't do that, DON'T WRITE A BOOK WITH TWENTY THREE SHORT STORIES THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY SEVENTEEN DIFFERENT PEOPLE. I'm all the more annoyed at this, because in the book I'm reading now, (Snow, Orhan Pamuk) the author will occasionally have things written from different perspectives and he does it so effortlessly. The young nervous radical sounds like a young nervous radical, and the tired university president sounds like a tired university president, and the resigned poet- well you get the idea.

Next gripe. This book was touted in the title, on the back cover, in the review snippets, and even by the author himself as a ghost/horror story. Palahniuk even goes so far as to have the audacity to include an epilogue and "warning" (i kid you not, he included a warning) boasting how many people fainted when he was reading one of these cookie cutter short stories. Again, REALLY? How self obsessed do you have to be to include an epilogue where you're bragging about how good a writer you are, and how good you are at taking mundane objects and making them "horrifying". Godddd I wish I didn't spend fifteen bucks on that.

Alright, now that i'm done chiding that windbag for being so self-obsessed, lets get back to me. Re-reading my old livejournals made me realize that I should be a lot more specific in my blog. No one reads this, and the few who do, i'd probably tell you any of these stories anyway. So I'm going to start writing this knowing that in five years from now, i'm going to want to remember what's been going on.

So fear not, good readers! Tomorrow I'll get back to talking about boys and unemployment.

Put your makeup on, fix your hair up pretty, and meet me tonight in Atlantic City

Atlantic City is a strange place. I wish I could take pictures of the casinos because they just blow my mind. What a random random mix of people. I've never seen so much Denim and Co. by QVC in one place at one time. Nor have I ever seen so many serious looking guys who were under the impression their shit does not stink. And everything blinking and beeping and flashing constantly! Even though Harrah's seemed to be one of the most tasteful of the lot, I still would surely have a nervous breakdown if I spent more than 2 nights there. Too much neon, too many patterns, and all the noise, noise, noise, noise. So here are some pictures of our killer view. 30th floor waterside. BAM.





One thing that amazes me in casinos is how easy they make everything for you. Credit cards, cabs, and drinks are everywhere. If i bought a pack of gum, I could use my credit card and they'd smile and whisk it through instantly. If I wanted to bring my gin and tonic with me to the pool, bathroom, room, store, or all you can eat buffet, no one would bat an eyelash. Really really crazy these casinos. I'm quite glad I got to experience my first (and presumably last) Jersey Club. Here's Murmur(?) at the Borgota (in the best possible light):

laugh until we think we'll die. Barefoot on a summer night. Never could be sweeter than with you

In junior high and high school I would read non-stop. I would go to the library weekly and devoured all the classics. Even in college, when my time was spent reading endless amounts of scholarly writing, I still occasionally found the time to read for pleasure. Once I graduated, I stopped reading. At the time I didn't really think anything of it. I made excuses of not knowing what to read, not having money to buy books, not knowing where my library card was (or even if it was still valid) etc.
It's really crazy how complacent you can get with life and how easy it is to stop learning and just check out. It's also crazy how easy it is not to realize when that's happening. I know I talk about this all the time, but my 22nd year was pretty much spent in a complete fog. And this is just another instance of how grateful I am to have snapped out of it and started to fucking live again.


This summer I've been reading tons, and am currently in the middle of "Haunted" by Chuck Palahniuk. You can't tell here, but the cover glows in the dark!
Definitely never got into him, because he's always struck me as one of those authors (like Dan Brown) that people who don't read, read. And since I'm an elitist book snob, I didn't want to lower my standards and join the ranks of the people who live for "Fight Club" and "Choke". That being said, "Haunted" was recommended to me, and being 150 pages in, I can definitely say that I love it. Creepy creepy concept and really uniquely organized. Go read it, babies!

I'm also a glutton for punishment and just started "The Romantics" because i need a fluffy easy read about unrequited love and an incestuous group of friends reuniting for a wedding, that I can translate into my own incestuous and unrequited life and then mope about. They're also turning it into a hipster looking movie starring Katie Holmes, Elijah Wood, and Anna Paquin. And you know what, I don't care what anyone says, I love Katie Holmes. No matter how ragged she may look or what terrible movies she may star in, she will always be Joey Potter to me and therefore can do no wrong.

This is what the world is for, making electricity.

Right now i'm drinking a wonderful gin and tonic enhanced with lime and cucumber. I'm about to make Adam and I fish and chocolate cake and drink more gin. See Jordan, I can make non awkward diary-esque posts!

In other news, this cover is awesome. It grows on you. It's also 100% accurate.

This used to be a fun house, but now it's full of evil clowns.

County Fairs are very strange.

This weekend I had the pleasure (or misfortune?) of accompanying my eight year old cousin to our county fair upstate. For those who don't know, my house is in New Paltz, New York. New Paltz has a pretty liberal and laid back state university, is about 30 minutes from Woodstock, and has a bunch of stores with names like "The Groovy Blueberry" or "Endless Horizons." Basically everyone up there is either a unwashed college student or looks like this:




The Ulster County Fairgrounds are usually reserved for snobby events such as the Crafts Fair or Taste of New Paltz, but in the one glorious week a year, it serves the purpose for which is was named and houses the county fair. You would expect a sleepy liberal minded county in upstate New York to not get too excited about fried twinkies or pig races or a booth where, for $20, you can take a picture with a baby tiger (I shit you not). But the place is packed every single day with people who look like this:


Where the hell do you come from?? As a former lover of the Delaware State Fair, and someone whose been to Pigeon Forge, TN, I've seen your kind. I would expect pregnant teenagers and families with less than 20 teeth between them all down there, but really? Upstate, NY?? Do you people standing in line to get you and your baby daddy's names airbrushed on a Confederate flag tee shirt even realize how far north of the Mason Dixon line we actually are??? I certainly haven't seen your likes at "The Groovy Blueberry". Do you crawl out of the hills once a year to play whack-a-mole with the change you've scavenged returning cans?

Also, I think i've gotten too old to appreciate carnival rides. I have a massive bruise on the side of my hip from ride after ride of centripetal force pressing me into the side of some cheap glittery car/boat/dragon/apple/spaceship. Also, I needed to vomit after like the third ride, and that feeling never went away. Ugh.

my head told my heart let love grow, but my heart told my head this time no.

Ok.
It's August.
Summer of Stephie rolls on, with relative success. There's been some ups and downs, but mostly ups. But I think it's time to switch focus.
So, I declare August to be self-improvement month.
I'd be lying if I said I was going to stop thinking and obsessing over boys, but I'm going to consciously try to not make them the primary focus. I'm going to follow the advice of the graffiti on the sidewalk near my apartment and "fuck love, get $$$"
THEN lose 10 more pounds
THEN get the fuck out of my apartment,
THEN find a boyfriend

Ready.... Go!

Also,
I've figured out my halloween costume. I'm going to be:

No, not Margot Tenenbaum, I'm going full on tennis chic Richie complete with beard.
I've always toyed with the idea of being Margot, but felt no desire to look depressed and wear a fur coat, so I got to thinking about what I could be where I'd have an excuse to wear tube socks, aviators, and a sweat band, and lo and behold, RICHIE!
It's going to be so amazingly amazing. I reaaaallllllyyyy wish i'll have a fabulous apartment by then, and can therefore have a fabulous halloween party.
So, that's what my sights are now set upon.

Ready....go!

Also,
Listen to this band:

The warmth of your love is like the warmth of the sun

Things I did today that I am proud of:

1. Had to go to Toys R' Us to get my cousin a birthday present at that god awful mall on Metropolitan Ave. (seriously that place is 100% the armpit of Queens, especially now that Discovery Zone is closed down) and I didn't get a Nathan's hot dog, even though I was starving. 380 calories not added to my thighs, like a boss.

2. Purchased and started using Crest White Strips. Shiney white teefs are only 13 days away!

3. It's been 12 days since my flirty texter and atractive lovah' left for Africa and I haven't stalked his facebook NOT ONCE. Crazy effectively suppressed... for now. Of course i've replaced that urge with compulsively checking the ex boyfriend's facebook, but that's mainly so I can scoff at his feeble attempts at being hipster. If it weren't for me, you'd be living in an apartment complex in nowheresville Delaware, probably next to the Cheeseburger in Paradise.

Things I did today that I am slightly more embarrassed about, but not really, because that's me:

1. Put much more thought into my fabulous Halloween wedding. I have five years until Halloween falls on a Saturday, so I have five years to procure a willing and able husband and a backyard for the party of the fucking century to go down. Well today, I decided on my wedding song, wedding dress, and bridesmaid dresses.

Wedding dress:
Tea length is a definite, given my legs are my fav feature and because my wedding will take place in a backyard, so a long dress is just gonna get dirty. So here's a potential candidate, i'll definitely be wearing a tiny veil that goes to about my chin. Except it will be black and will have a tasteful spider adornment (It is Halloweeeeeen)

Bridesmaids Dresses:
Probably will be black or burgundy, or a mix of the two, because like I said, it will be Halloween and thus a darker fall color scheme is required. So ladies, if you're reading this and think we're friends enough that you'll be in the bridal party, start toning those back muscles. You have 5 years. You too will have a spider adornment somewhere. Don't like it? Suck it.

Wedding song:
This Will Be Our Year, The Zombies.
And/Or Monster Mash.

I'm posting this on here because there are too many good looking guys I'm friends with on Facebook, and I don't want to ruin my carefully crafted laid back, not girly girl persona by discussing celebrities there. With that being said, did you know... Will Smith has a daughter named WILLow a wife named Jada and a son named JADen? Also, Britney Spear's mom is named Lynn, and her dad Jamie and her sister Jamie-Lynn.

what the fuck is wrong with these people?


I'm going to name my children Eisley* (girl) and Sebastian (boy)
*after Mos Eisley from Star Wars (duhhhhh)

Okay more later, i just had to get that off my chest.

"It would be nice to think that since I was 14, times have changed. Relationships have become more sophisticated. Females less cruel. Skins thicker. Instincts more developed. But there seems to be an element of that afternoon in everything that's happened to me since. All my romantic stories are a scrambled version of that first one."
-Rob Gordon, High Fidelity


Truer words were never spoken. I'm 23, and I just bought a marble notebook to resume my diary that I've been keeping since the 7th grade. I just put on some old school emo music and am preparing to sit down and write down all my stories, then i'm going to get ready and shower and go hang out with my best friend. This has been an average July day for the past ten years. TEN YEARS and i'm back where I started. I went to college! I traveled the world! I was in a successful three year relationship! Where am I now? Lusting after a variation of the same person i've been pining for since I was 14. Except now instead of worrying about things like being home for curfew, I need to worry about getting pregnant or herpes. THANKS FOR NOTHING, MATURITY.

Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.

Eek. Sorry blog, i've been delinquent. Forgive me? We still besties? Alright good.

Ugh i've been delinquent because I don't know what to say? I'm still unsure of how personal I want to get here... I guess as many of you know, I've met someone. If you don't know, a cursory glance at my facebook will give a pretty good indication of who he is, since he's all over it. Well anyway, this is my first foray into the grown-up post-college world of dating. So of course I'm freaking out about every little thing (as you all know and have had to deal with-love yous!), because I have no idea what's considered normal and how to deal.

First crisis:
Facebook friending prior to first date
Who does this? I mean really, who does this? Why would anyone want to put themselves through such scrutiny. Would you like a background check and blood test? As if a first date isn't nerve wracking enough, here why don't you look at 5 years worth of photos where I'm wasted and attached at the hip to the ex-boyfriend I thought i'd marry. I'll have a looksee at your ex's and compare whether or not i'm prettier or skinnier than them. Also, I don't want to see all these girls writing on your wall. You can carry out a million different love affairs for all I care, i just don't want to see any evidence of them. All I want to know is that you'll be at our designated place at our designated time and you won't have lipstick on your collar.
Solution: Well this crisis kind of fizzled out, or more accurately is now fueling my crazy. Now I'm less concerned about you dissecting my life, now i'm just flat out obsessed with yours. But that's a whole 'nother blog entry.

Second Crisis:
Bringing your friend to our second date
Okay fiiiine it was bar trivia, okay fiiiiine you need more people, but come now. How awkward! Especially since I have no reciprocal friends on my end to bring! All my good girlfriends are living out of state or hate nerdy things like bar trivia. The rest of my besties are guys, and that's really awkward to bring a dude to a date. But yeah, so my second date consisted of three people. Awesome.

Third crisis
You not making moves
This is actually not a crisis at all. When I became newly single, I had all these grand plans of being somewhat promiscuous, and not getting attached to anyone anyway anyhow. Well it looks like those ideas are thrown out the window. At first I was against it, but then I started reading "Into the Wild" and it's been pretty eye opening. I bought that book because I thought it would inspire me to run off, just say "fuck it" and hop a freight train to Alaska and live off the fat of the land. Who was I kidding? As I went on reading about Christopher McCandless and his fanatical ethical and threadbare l existence, I realized there's no way in hell I could ever even attempt to do something like that. I get grouchy when I get less than 8 hours of sleep or if there's any noise or light pollution. There's no way i'd last more than 4 days without all my creature comforts. This kinda bummed me out for a little while, but then I realized extreme adventure wanderlust is not my Rushmore. My Rushmore is falling in love. I couldn't possibly ever have the life of sleeping around; I'd simply fall in love with everyone, but I'm okay with it. I'm happiest when I'm doing things for the pursuit of love. I'm happiest cooking delicious foodstuffs for a boyfriend or for buying them things when they're on my mind, or for solving problems and offering suggestions and doing anything that would make them happy. That is my Rushmore, that is my "walking into the wild". So yeah, the point of this long ramble is to say that I guess I'm perfectly fine with you not making moves. Because that's how I like it. Maybe being a genuinely nice guy is your Rushmore, and i'm more than happy to take it slow, so long as you keep telling me i'm gorgeous and think up excuses to hold my hand. But if it don't work out, then I have comfort in the knowledge and experience that I can move on pretty easily and fall in love with someone new, without much transition time.

This is a really cute song about meeting someone new, and you should listen because it's adorable.

And at your funeral, I will sing the requiem

Well blog, this is it. You are the last refuge for all my musings, be them positive or otherwise. All other forms of Stephie-expression have been infiltrated. First came my dignity in making an okcupid account, then came my facebook (which caused the anxiety of anxiety attacks,) then came my phone number (meh), and finally, holding down the fort so gallantly, my aim address; in all it's embarrassing glory. Now i'm an open book, everything I say can and will be used against me in forming an opinion.

Goodbye, angry facebook statuses about Glee (i want to downplay how much tv i watch)
Goodbye, emo facebook statuses about being lonely or sad (i don't want to seem crazy)
Goodbye song lyric aim statuses that reflect how I'm currently feeling, be they bitter or more bitter (don't want to seem too bitter)
Goodbye being on aim and facebook all day (I don't want to seem pathetic)
Goodbye free speech.
It's just you and me blog.

Until I forget about all this and revert back to my old ways or things get comfortable enough that I can let my crazy start to shine through.

But all this is really just an overdramatic way for me to be super excited that I'm talking to a boy!!

take. that.

every new beginning comes from every new beginning's end

Hmmm, this is the happiest i've been in a long time. Also, I hit the coveted 10 pound mark of weight lost since you made the biggest mistake of your life. I'm also excited for other potential reasons, which i'm saving to talk about until a later date.

In other news:

Isn't that such a great picture? It's David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Lou Reed, just hanging out together in a hotel room. It looks like they're genuine friends and this wasn't a staged photo op. Makes me think a lot of this picture:

I really have the best friends in the world. Not just you two, I mean everyone. I love you all. I'm just really happy to have friends who care about my continued mental heath or who go out of their way to come visit for my birthday! I'm just not going to post a million nostalgic pictures right now. Plus I kind of like this whole coming across famous pictures and finding similar ones of my loved ones. Check back faithful readers, you may find yourself compared to these guys (The Rolling Stones, for the ignorant).

keep churnin out those hits, till it's all the same old shit

Remember when Bravo was considered an artsy network. Remember when they'd show ballets and things like that? Did you know Bravo is now the most recognized brand among gay consumers? So says wikipedia (see good readers, i do research for my posts!)

Anyway, Bravo I've always loved your shows. I love Top Chef, I love(d) Project Runway, I even love all the Real Housewives, but now I think you're going a little too far. Real Housewives of New York and New Jersey on at the same time during the same week? Too much, Bravo too much.. You gotta stagger the crazy Bravo. Also now Bethenny's new show is starting, so that's three days of Housewife crazy in one week. Way to beat a dead horse.

But that's not my real beef with you Bravo. What the fuck is this new art competition show? How the hell can you justifiably judge art? What are the challenges going to be?? "Everyone sketch this nude model" "everyone paint this fruit bowl" "everyone take this slab of marble and chisel me Jesus". How are you going to judge this?? What's the criteria?? I'm sure at least one challenge will be to go out to a NY neighborhood and take pictures on your sony cybershot camera and go back and use the HP photolab printer to print them out and be inspiiiiired.

Side note, YESSSS I KNOWWWW there have been tons of art competitions throughout history, the most famous of which (the Gates of Paradise doors of the Florence Baptistry) gave birth to the Renaissance. but that was back when all people did was do realistic looks impressions of religious images. Even though I'm a pretty big critic of modern art, I do appreciate the multitude of different ways someone can interpret something, and none of those interpretations can or should be judged but some yahoos on Bravo. Plus whoever wins will probably just become the most obnoxious artist on the planet, and think they are jesus (DAMIEN HIRST). But they'll never ever ever be taken seriously for as long as they live. But someone will probably give them a mural in Chelsea and tourists will take pictures and then they'll fade away. Hopefully.
I jus hope there's one really oddball "artist" who only paints this:


OM NOM NOM NOM NOM

Yeah yeah yeah, I know...i've become delinquent...
But I've been busy! Get off my back! knocking on the doors of the good people of Rego Park is time consuming work! I sincerely wish I could regale you all with my amusing stories, but then i'd probably get imprisoned or fined $250,000. Sorry friends, that's not worth it. You'll just have to check back here in 72 years when all information becomes public.

So, 3.5 weeks ago I started a running program (Couch to 5k) and am really impressed with how I've progressed. I'm not in great shape, not terrible, but not good-by any means. I also never really was a fan of running, it just seemed so boring and monotonous. But after doing it 4 times a week for the past 25ish days, it's kind of crazy how quickly my stamina and enjoyment of running have increased. Basically you go in intervals of walking and jogging and increase the distance of jogging each week.

First week was 60 seconds jogging, 90 seconds walking for 25 minutes
Second week 90 seconds jogging, 2 min walking for 25 minutes
Third week 90 seconds jogging, 90 walking, 3 min jogging, 3 min walking for 25 minutes
Fourth week 3 min jogging 3 min walking, 5 min jogging, 5 min walking for 25 minutes
etc. etc.

When I first started, I was like "ughhh this is boring, this minute is soooo long" but now I can run three minutes easy without even noticing it. My muscles aren't sore, I'm not out of breath, and my legs are definitely toner. Sometimes, I even want to run more, and think about it more. I've always heard that people get really into running, but never did I ever think I'd be one of those people. I'm into jellybeans and Deadliest Catch, not doing anything productive... Obviously this is a premature post, so I suppose I should report back in another month or two and see if I'm still this enthusiastic about it, but so far so good! Wish me well, devoted readers.

Oh yes, I also got a haircut recently, which I love. For all of you in NYC, you should really go to Aveda hair school because for $20 you get a massage, shampoo, haircut, and style. Yeah, they're students, but instructors always come around and help or check their work, so you're not getting some terrible haircut done by complete amateurs. Plus everyone is super friendly and not snobbish or intimidating like how I imagine fancy pants salon stylists to be.

So basically this is the summer of self improvement.

When you left me I had $200 in my bank account and a $300 dollar student loan payment due. I also was hopelessly unemployed, and pretty overweight. Now I have a relatively stable (at least for the next month or so...) job and income, I'm still chubbs, but I've lost 8 pounds and counting, I got my quintessential post break-up hair cut and when the next paycheck comes around, i'll buy some new wardrobe items. What have YOU been doing? I'm also at the point where I'm no longer sad and pretty much just wish you'd get hit by a bus, Regina George style.

Pulling mussels from the shell

Seinfeld is the best sitcom ever.

I've always been a fan, stemming from 7th grade when I got a TV in my room and didn't have cable. I'd watch endless episodes of Friends, Seinfeld, and golden age Simpsons. Back then I thought they were all awesome, but especially Friends because they were so hip and trendy and sat in coffee shops all day. Over the years I'd watch less and less because I've seen every single episode of these classics to the point of not being able to stomach them anymore because I still remembered every single joke. Well recently, I started re-watching a lot of these gems as my memory has been sufficiently dulled from college that I no longer remember enough about Seinfeld etc. that they're enjoyable again. So after a comprehensive study of Seinfeld v. Friends v. The Nanny, I've come to the conclusion that Seinfeld is the best sitcom ever.

Friends gets ruled out completely from the sitcom running because upon rewatch, it's mostly about them being trendy and hip and cool and isn't really that funny. Too much emphasis on Rachel's hair and how fabulous they all look. Also, the characters are way too one dimensional. Joey is the stupid actor who really just wants love. Monica is the controlling type A who really wants love, Pheobe is the eccentic hippy who reluctantly really wants love and then has to chose between two great guys. Etc. etc. etc. Also, much like EVERY SINGLE SHOW EVER, once all the characters started shacking up, it lost the same level of humor that was there when sexual tension was abundant. Also, they didn't leave any good lasting pop cultural legacies. Sureeee Smelly Cat was amusing, and everyone and their mom has pondered what to do while on a break, but that's about it. Next.

I'm not in the mood to go over the pros and cons of The Nanny and The Simpsons because The Nanny was amazing until Fran and Maxwell started shacking up, after that, I pretend it didn't exist. Much like many people pretend there was only one Matrix film. The Simpsons gets knocked out completely because anything after season 8 is just preposterous sad attempts to grasp onto contemporary issues at the expense of the sad buffoon shell of a character that they turned Homer into. They also reduced all the other characters to exaggerated versions of themselves that only exist to support Homer's increasingly ludicrous plot lines.

Thus leaving Seinfeld as the stand alone genius of the 1990s. Despite recent questionable judgement calls, Jerry Seinfeld knew what he was doing. He turned down getting 5 million dollars an episode to do a 10th season because he knew he was running out of material. He quit when the show was #1 on the ratings. Better to burn out than to fade away. Similarly, Seinfeld never committed the cardinal sin of having an inter-cast romance. Yes, Jerry and Elaine did go out, but it was so long ago, and while sometimes they'll make a comment or there will be a glimmer of tension or romance, it never fully re blossoms. If Jerry and Elaine ever got back to together for real it would just be comedic suicide, and he knew that! Kudos Jerry Seinfeld. Also, Seinfeld makes no attempts to seem cool. They hang out in a diner and Jerry's apartment. No one gets decked out to go hang out in a bar or even a coffee shop. They wear jeans and sneakers and sit in Jerry's place and rarely-if ever-booze. Also, the characters are just so much more relateable, at least to my life.

I'd like to think I'm somewhere between being a George and an Elaine. I'm Elaine because 90% of my best friends are guys, and i've probably hooked up with half of them; also I can't dance to save my life. I'm George because I'm living at home with my crazy parents and don't have a job. Also, I probably would have a huge crush on Kramer-if he existed in real life. Kramer always wore vintage pre-hipster clothes and was probably the nicest of the group. While Jerry and George were too busy being shallow, Kramer was far more interested in other schemes. He was also a pretty equal opportunity tail chaser. Skinny, fat, black, white, Kramer loves them all. So I'd probably have a chance with him too. Also, Seinfeld stands the test of time. You never think "wow this is REALLY outdated" when watching it.

So in conclusion

rock rock rock, Rockaway Beach

They hate our freedom. Freedom to schlep our children around in a boat-mobile.


So, I'm not in the mood to write anything, plus i'm busy forming judgement on Bear Grylls new show, so here's a bunch of pictures of Rockaway Beach and some ducks and the control tower of JFK and the A train.

Once upon a time I was falling in love, now i'm only falling apart

So, I've been thinking about deleting my facebook a lot lately. There has been a lot of controversy surrounding the latest round of privacy removals, and while i've always been pretty adamant about having nothing to hide -and have never been one of those people who feebly attempts to make themselves unsearchable by using their middle names, thus sounding like a stripper or a vaguely ethnic diva on a hit network tv show (Leah Michelle, i'm looking in your direction)- I'm definitely not down with all this openness. At first I didn't really care what facebook did with my information, because I mean if they want to use my love of Iceland and my pictures of my guinea pig for marketing purposes, knock yourself out. But all this sudden infultration of third party apps is getting downright creepy. Not to mention facebook's really abstract terms of service which basically make it so you can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.
I dunno, read this: http://www.rocket.ly/home/2010/4/26/top-ten-reasons-you-should-quit-facebook.html

But really, my biggest problem with facebook is what it's done to communication. I've definitely been more than guilty of only keeping up friendships by writing a half-hearted "hey, i miss you, let's do lunch!" on someone's wall and then kind of forgetting about it; but, due to recent unpleasantries in my life, i've become very much aware of the levels of friendship and how facebook is pretty much destroying them, or at least driving me crazy. It's one thing to casually appreciate a vacation photo or like a status about a tv show, but sometimes there are serious events that happen, and discussing them solely through insincere facebook wall posts really does make you feel much worse. I know breakups (and deaths) are awkward for friends, and I've also been guilty of not really knowing how to act when something happens to a friend, but now that i've been through the ringer, I can say that sometimes the nicest thing anyone can do is just pick up the phone and call you and ask how you're doing. I'm not pointing fingers or passively agressively trying to single someone out, this is just a general message to my adoring fans. Let's not let Mark ugly-face Zuckerman win, and lets just start appreciatin' each other. Ya dig?

Switching gears,
let's talk about Glee. I know some of you watch it as religiously as I do, so please enlighten me here.
Where the hell did Quinn fade off to? Didn't she get kicked out of her house? Wasn't she living with Finn? Is she still living with Finn even though he isn't the babydaddy? How's she paying for things? Is Puck still financing everything? Let's focus some more on her problems, even though as I type this she's having quite the tearful monologue... but her for real problems still need addressing.
Also, I'm getting slightly sick of so many trivialities threatening to "shut down the glee club". It seems like every episode some wrench gets thrown into their all singing all dancing happy time variety hour and the wrenches are getting more and more ridiculous. I think the mattressgate one was the most absurd, but this Glist one is pretty up there.
However, there have been some pretty bangin songs this week, so I'll let it slide.


There is too much text in this post so here's Olive commemorating the fall harvest and eating a radish.

oh, oh, the hazards of love...

So, during the 8 hours i spend staring at the wall during Census training, I got to thinking that if I won the lottery I'd open up a brew pub on Austin St. I'd name it "Seasongood" (like the street in the Gardens) and we'd brew our own seasonal beers. They'd have names like "Dragon's Breath" and "Shire Summer Ale" and "Mordor Porter." There would be huge oak beams and large oak tables where everyone sits together and has to talk to people they don't know and everyone would be happy and hearty. We'd have our own drinking song that gets sung when something important happens and we'd serve hearty foods and onion rings (because who doesn't like onion rings??) Once an acceptable amount of buzz has been created we may expand into other areas- pio pio style- except all our locations will always look like This:




So if any of you devoted readers have a rich uncle dying to finance a regal hall for drinking and merrymaking, have them leave a comment in this entry and we'll work out the specifics. I get final say on all Lord of the Rings related naming.

so in conclusion; here are a bunch of pictures of strange looking baby animals.

MTV, what have you done to me???

Sigh...

So, last night (against infinitely better judgment) I tuned in for the season premiere of the final season of The Hills. MTV suckered me in my saying "We know you have nothing to do on a rainy Sunday, so we're going to rerun the entire first four seasons of our splendid creation and you're going to watch it and wax nostalgic about what you were doing when Heidi and Lauren and co. were shiny pimply faced 19 year olds." So yeah, MTV I succumbed.. and I did wax nostalgic, because in May of '05 as Lauren and Heidi were getting excited about their new LA apartment, I was getting excited about going away to college and meeting hot boys and going out drinking every night and not worrying about who sees me the next morning. So, seeing all these events unfold made me really sad because so many things have changed! For me and for them, but this post isn't about my loses, it's about Heidi.

Dear, sweet, Heidi. I never really liked her, the whole first season she was all about sittin' pool side and being a ditz. Her job as a club promoter or whatever was the most obviously fake out of the bunch of fabricated jobs the ladies were given, and she never really added much to the show except to pout about this and that. I guess MTV saw this so they told Brody he better get a blonde douchey man friend and he better make moves on our innocent little mountain Fraulein because she needed a heavy dose of being treated like shit. Well as anyone with a pulse knows, Spencer and Heidi snowballed from having a bit part unhealthy relationship into the show stealing mega monster that is "Speidi". Then came an endless string of publicity stunts of increasing intensity; first there was the rift with Lauren, then their shotgun "i wanna get married in Mexico, you don't get a say-bitch" wedding, and finally the Frankensteinian level of plastic surgery she just went through (which, again, anyone with a pulse is at least vaguely aware of). When I first heard about her recent "changes" I was surprised, kind of sad, but mainly just wanted to see her trainwreck fully unfold with morbid curiosity and schadenfreude (that's two German words this entry, for those keeping track!) It wasn't until last night when I actually saw the creature she's become that it really hit me; wow, this girl is a lost cause. She kinda reminds me of Ophelia in her increasingly desperate attempts to get the attention of Hamlet, but maybe that's just because it's been a while since I've written a comparative essay to Shakespeare... in any case-

I think Gawker summarizes things best by saying "She became some sort of version of Heidi as she imagined the show defined her — pretty, booby Heidi with her shallow, fake husband — and MTV saw it, they saw it, and said "OK, let's roll cameras!" .... Heidi tried to chew, she tried to cry, but she couldn't. So she just sat there, her eyes wild with the recognition that she can never go back, and you realized that MTV ruined this kid's life. They gave her a platform to indulge her greatest insecurities, to stoke her deepest unhealthy desires, and they encouraged it and filmed it and sent it out to world while saying Ha Ha." (citation)

Sigh...
I hope someday you find happiness Heidi. Move back to Crested Butte and have a lot of puppies and marry a cowboy and let it go to voicemail when MTV next tries to capitalize on your misfortunes. :(


On a lighter note, this is pretty great, and pretty accurate. The Hills as babies:

If there's anything to say, If there's anything to do, If there's any other way, I'd do anything for you

So, today I was reading about Myers-Briggs personality types and obviously needed to take the test to find out my own personality, because I'm really bad at/ have no interest in self analyzation.

Apparently taking this epic test is something that you have to pay exorbitant amounts of money for and are usually offered by fancy private schools or employers making sure you're not going to go postal. I did manage to find this which is a pretty quick and easy way of determining your personality. Then i found this which explains the results.

I am extroverted, sensing, feeling, judging which is surprisingly a pretty accurate description (in my humble opinion)... Some highlights from my personality profile:

-Guardians of birthdays, holidays and celebrations, ESFJs are generous entertainers. They enjoy and joyfully observe traditions and are liberal in giving, especially where custom prescribes. Even though they neglected to specify Halloween, I do lovvvve entertaining and cooking for people and birthday parties!

-ESFJs are easily wounded. And when wounded, their emotions will not be contained. They by nature "wear their hearts on their sleeves," often exuding warmth and bonhomie, but not infrequently boiling over with the vexation of their souls. I do have a short temper, and the fact that i've started a blog is pretty evident of my emotions not being contained..

-ESFJs are warm and energetic. They need approval from others to feel good about themselves. They are hurt by indifference and don't understand unkindness. They are very giving people, who get a lot of their personal satisfaction from the happiness of others. They want to be appreciated for who they are, and what they give. ESFJs sometimes have a hard time seeing or accepting a difficult truth about someone they care about. With Extraverted Feeling dominating their personality, ESFJs are focused on reading other people. They have a strong need to be liked, and to be in control. They are extremely good at reading others, and often change their own manner to be more pleasing to whoever they're with at the moment. while they may be overstating my level of warmth, i'd say the rest is fairly correct.

-ESFJs at their best are warm, sympathetic, helpful, cooperative, tactful, down-to-earth, practical, thorough, consistent, organized, enthusiastic, and energetic. They enjoy tradition and security, and will seek stable lives that are rich in contact with friends and family. Aw gee..how sweet of you, internet personality test!

According to the people who make these things up, I share this personality with Bill Clinton and Molly Weasley. There are many other things i'd like to share with Bill Clinton, but i'll take what I can get.



I put a counter that tells me how many people visit this here blog, so I know someone out there is reading!! So, faithful readers, is this accurate? What are YOUR personalities?

I'm not in love with the modern world

Just so you know,
Joining a facebook group is not going to:
-cure cancer
-allow gay marriage to happen
-do absolutely anything about the immigration bill in Arizona (especially if you're not from Arizona, then it will do double nothing)
-stop that person (probably me) from passive aggressively talking about you (on their blog perhaps?)
-convince anyone to name their kid Batman.

Similarly,

WE ALL WATCHED RUGRATS and like popping bubble wrap and remember fun dip and hate waking up in the morning.

and finally, are joining any of these groups really necessary?
"I smile like nothing's wrong, but I go through stuff u know NOTHING about!"
"I hate girls who say they hate drama but really cause it"
"UR my ex for a reason, i'm so over this!"

However; facebook IS a perfect venue for promoting ones love for Iceland and tequila and Oscar Wilde quotes, so "suck it all u h8rz"

/end nightly rant.
Sorry to offend, but not really.

Update in which I amend the preceding post,

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/04/20/nyregion/20journal.html

Apparently I didn't google hard enough the first time around, but there is an article about these fabulous creatures.

This is certainly tragic, but the Sheridan's don't seem to be too bothered by their lifestyle, therefore i can critique in good conscious.

I'm sure by this point (4 years later) "Mother" is dead and probably lying in bed wearing her best dressing gown while her devoted son dutifully tends to the yard and tries not to look at the lady next door when she gets out of the shower...

That makes it a million times more awesome. Kudos to you Master Sheridan and your pipe smoke and sideburns and your ability to miraculously win a lawsuit against the Gardens' juggernaut. Just please don't kill me if I spend the night in the pouring rain after deciding to steal a wealthy Texan's money and drive to Arizona to visit my boyfriend.

When you were young you were the king of carrot flowers

So lately I've been going on many reflective walks and jogs through the Gardens. For those of you who don't know, Forest Hills Gardens is a section of town that is really beautiful and old fashioned. It was supposedly America's first planned community and basically hasn't changed in 100 years and the residents must adhere to strict standards of how the houses have to look and what kind of things they can decorate with. It's really pretty to walk around in, especially during the spring time.

Most houses look like this:



and this:



but then, there is this one house that looks like this:



Wow, that looks like a lot of flowers... What clever gardeners must reside in that little spot of Eden! Oh, wait... let me get a closer look



are those...fake flowers?? Yes, yes they are. Hundreds of fake flowers!!!!



I wonder what the house looks like? Here's the walkway (sorry it's sideways, i couldn't figure out how to rotate pictures...)
Note the cheetah standing guard.



This is definitely the house that kids dare each other to ring the doorbell. Even in broad daylight with numerous other cars slowing down to gawk, i definitely felt really creeped out and somewhat like my life was in danger and someone was going to pop out of the shrubbery with a pitchfork and straggly beard and snatch me.

You may think maybe this is temporary and someone died recently and there's a neighborhood wide show of support. But I assure you, no Polish heads of state, or coal miners reside in Forest Hills. It's been like this for over a year and they rotate the flowers. There were a lot more poinsettias in the winter.

I don't know whether to feel really sad for these people or be jealous of their uniqueness or be thankful i'm not locked in their prison dungeon.

Oh and this is their car...

What's somebody like you doin in a place like this?

Editors note: I don't actually think anyone will actually read this, but I'm going to address all future entries to a large audience in hopes of attracting one.

So, as many of you may know, I'm working for the census. While I'd love to reveal the intricacies of how absurdly boring training has been, and all the fun things we learned, but I swore an oath to the government and am bound to secrecy. Since I'd like to keep this temporary job and milk it for as many weeks as possible, I can't talk too many specifics. This is a shame because i'd really like to highlight how I was in a group of people who scored the highest on the census worker's test, and yet it still took 8 hours for 10 people to fill out forms and get finger printed. Apparently no one knows how direct deposit works and 50 year old men don't know how many dependents they claim on their taxes, but those weren't even the worst of the questions people asked. One bright lad raised his hand and asked the guy in charge (bless his soul for not murdering us all in a fit of rage) what to do because he didn't know how to spell his middle name. How do people like this exist? I'm legitimately interested to know how this guy can manage to budget expenses and procure himself food and yet not know his name. Maybe I'm over thinking things and he was just trying to be funny. I really wonder what his middle name actually was, and if it indeed was so difficult to spell. I hope it was Rumpelstiltskin. I'd give my kid a ballin middle name like that (or wolfgang), but I damn sure wouldn't raise him as no fool.

pleased to meet you, won't you guess my name.

I've been told by numerous people that I should start a blog, but never have because I lead a pretty uneventful life that isn't worth blogging about. However; now that I am recently single, I have no one whose job it is to listen to my daily musings and grievances. So I turn to you, anonymous internet. Whenever I update facebook with said grievances and musings, I usually receive several comments appreciating my humor, several legitimate concerns about my mental health, and several people unfriend me (fuck you random guy who lived on the floor below me freshman year who can't appreciate a good critique of tonight's Glee). So now, I can rant and rave all you want and you biddies are gonna have to listen to it because you came here of your own free will.

Oh and by the way, in case it wasn't abundantly clear, the title and description refer to the two best sitcoms of the 90's and since I just got "kicked out in one of those crushing scenes" and have no meaningful employment, I think it's pretty fitting. So enjoy, hopefully I keep this up and these anecdotes will be my meal ticket to coffee table book success!

Also I'm going to post a ton of pictures of my guinea pig, so get used to it!