dirty thirty!

this is my 30th blog post.

i'm snowed into my house. there was basically a tornado this morning that tore through maylong drive and woke me up at around 630. Now flakes are calmly drifting outside. I'm doing laundry and plan on wrapping myself in toasty cloth.

On days I don't go to the gym I want to punch things, kick, or shout.

La mia vita é noiosa.

You're the man now, dog!

The New York Times blew its load all over my laptop this morning, in the form of a glowing (and that's putting it lightly) review of "4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days." And that is fine, don't get me wrong. "4 Months..." just might be The Romanian Classic, and quite frankly it sparked my interest enough to watch the trailer and cross my fingers that the film would make it to the slums of Rochester NY. Maybe?

But here's what got me about the whole thing:

"You may already have heard something about “4 Months,” which was awarded the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival last year, only to be shut out from Academy Award consideration a few weeks ago by the philistines who select the foreign-language nominees. The Oscars are absurd, yet they can help a microscopically budgeted foreign-language film find a supportive audience."

True as that may be, it was written in the fucking NEW YORK TIMES. The NYT claims to be all highbrow and intellectual, but come on. It's published by the Sulzberger family, something that is somewhat of a machine, publishing the god damned paper in some form since 1896 — how much culture and intellectualism and diversity does that really foster? The company is just recently trying to buy out the Boston and NY metros, FREE DAILIES. You advertise and basically whore yourself out to Mark Zuckerberg — it doesn't get much more philistine than that. Having money and power does not make you the intellectual and underground beacon of hope — it makes you the man. But let's let those park slope mommies believe they're being subversive by watching a movie on abortion and communism, right?

The same thing happens with the Village Voice, and plenty of other magazines and papers. They act all intellectual, even self indulgent, better than their audience in a sense, and yet are owned and operated by huge corporate machines, the likes of which run on the low brow tastes that they scorn.

So think about that next time you want to call the Oscars out, NYT. Because there are just as many stupid things you do, and daily.

Snap 2 0

This came from the BBC's day in photos. "Children have been learning how to make radish dim sum in the shape of a mouse to celebrate the Chinese Lunar Year in Hong Kong." I just wish I could dress up like a cat and make radish dim sum. Instead of slum around this house reading books.

black stretch pants

I had a job interview today! With an IT consulting company. Considering I find this really funny, and am honestly surprised I didn't do this before Cracked, I think I was pretty well qualified for the job.

In any event, I got dressed, which was invigorating, and met her at a Tim Horton's on Ridgeway Ave. Here's something they never tell you when you're a bright-eyed college freshman, drinking whatever you can get your grubby little hands on, flirting with who ever seems attractive at the time, smoking hookah outside on the quad on a sunny day. They never tell you that one day in the not-so-distant future, you'll be sitting in a Tim Horton's on Ridgeway Avenue, wearing trousers and heels, drinking hot chocolate and staring down at your resume, letting your eyes wander to the teenagers eating breakfast sandwiches next to you. No one prepares you for that moment. And what was my choice of action as the woman walked in and said, "Aw, I wish you'd have let me buy you a cup of coffee!" ? I blurted out that, "Yeahh, this is weird, but I quit coffee in October. Cold turkey. I switched to tea instead." (polite laugh from woman). "So this is hot chocolate. Anyway, I brag about it to anyone who will listen. Including you. It's a feat, to give up coffee."

This is how I kick off my interviews. She was really nice, and the company and job seemed like a great opportunity. For someone inclined to enter the business world. I don't have anything really against a corporate job, and since watching The Office, who wouldn't hope to find a suit-wearing, grinning, sarcastic guy like Jim Halpert? But they asked for a commitment, which I couldn't give, because I am crazy and would like to move sometime within the year. To Colorado for school or to New York to be poor. One of the two. WHo wants a stable, well-paying job when you can be a mentally ill fact-checker or gallery worker, or a hopelessly penniless graduate student, looking for people to discuss Foucault and Facebook?

Anyway, I have to get back to my blogs. Clearly, as soon as I got home I changed into my pajamas and roamed the internet. I don't think I'll ever change.

The Truth, or, my personal ad.

Since graduating college, I wake up every morning and go to the RAC for women. I then mostly spend my days eating orange foods (oranges, carrots and goldfish). I also drink tea while spending hours on the internet looking for stories I can comment to no one about. I compulsively go on gchat while sending my resume to places I don't especially want to work for. I finish the day by watching something stupid on the t.v. or the office on dvd. i then read and go to sleep, only to wake up and do it over again.

also, I've watched the following video nearly 20 times (thanks, cassie howe):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM

if you still want to be my friend, thanks. i dont probably want to be your friend unless you find this kind of lifestyle appealing.

p.s. i laugh at roseanne.

the thing is ...

The thing is I've stopped blogging here cause I'm blogging elsewhere. Sure, it's not paid. But it looks good.

Anyway, I've gone crazy. Today I brushed my teeth in the campus center bathroom. The smelly one. Never in my life did I picture myself as this person. It's just so hard to get up in the morning, and after stretch and coffee ...

Legitimately, though, I've started to go crazy. What with wanting to write my hip hop article (and facing the staunchest of critics!) and figuring out grad school and looking at the GRE (ack!) ... I'm just out of it. I love being stressed out and busy, but at the end of the day it's the same thing. I come home and read, and fall asleep. I feel like an infant. I just need someone to pet my head and rub my back and say "shhh ... go to sleep ... you'll grow up to be whatever you want someday."

The thing is, no one does this. No one does this because people expect us to be able to do it for ourselves. And after 21 years of telling myself "you're brilliant, you can do this, good things come to those who hustle, good things happen if you're a good person ..." It's god damned exhausting.

So, I believe I am going to go home for the weekend for rehabilitation. To have my dad cook for me and buy me a dress for Chris and Ellie's wedding. And to sit in bed and take a practice GRE. gah.

apologies to the chef

HEY! sorry I haven't blogged in a while. I haven't been keeping up with anything. I have been hiking, walking and climbing, which is just as good as the internet, right?

In any event, here's something else I've been doing. MAKING LISTS.

I haven't been able to write lately. I've been thinking, but mostly scattered thoughts. So, in an attempt to feel less psychotic, I've taken those thoughts and clumped them together:

"Things I like about myself."
"Things I like about living right now."
"Ways people probably think I'm annoying."
"Places I want to go."
"Options for the next six months."
"Things I want to do in the next six months."
"Things I DON'T want to be when I get old."

Any other good list ideas? Let me know! And I'll get back to posting links / etc soon.