Wasting my time in the waiting line...

2006-10-08T04:03:00.000-07:00

I originally planned on having my own travel blog while I was in Spain. But considering the fact that this is the first time I am writing since I’ve gotten here (and that I do not intend on writing much about my “Spanish” life) I have decided that this would be a useless travel blog. Instead, I suppose I will continue writing here sparingly as I have done in the past; one pointless blog is quite enough.
Yesterday I received a package from my mother. I have never been so excited about a gift in my whole life. This may in fact be because I do not believe I have ever really received a package before. My mother is just not one of those boisterous baking mothers that send their children brownies and cookies at college. This is most likely a good thing for two reasons: 1. I could not possibly have the conversations I have with my mother with a mother like that (baking mothers usually live in a world where there children do not drink, smoke, or have sex…or at least that is how I imagine baking mothers). 2. I would most certainly be ten pounds heavier (I know this is true because when Josh’s mother sent him packages I would always eat half of the contents). Anyway, this package was particularly for two reasons, one of which I am proud of, the of which I am not. That being said, I’m not entirely sure which one I am more excited about. This package contained a great deal of books, in English. It’s not that one cannot obtain books in English in Madrid. You can. Unfortunately the only books that are in sufficient supply are books I do not want to read (i.e. John Grisham, Danielle Steele, etc.) While I enjoy reading books in Spanish, and I realize the more of them I read the better I’ll be, I simply cannot read with the same pleasure in Spanish, I cannot appreciate the language of the author in the same way. The second part of the package contained a great deal of DVDs. I’m not sure when this happened to me, and I am entirely sure that it is Willa’s fault, but I can no longer fall asleep without watching something. If I am not distracted by bad tv or movies I will lay in my bed staring at the ceiling no matter how late it is. In this case, why I did not bring DVDs with me is a mystery as is why I brought 5 pairs of heels and one pair of flat shoes. Anyhow, my mother sent me a myriad of guilty pleasures including DVDs of the OC, Grey’s Anatomy, and the Gilmore Girls. Needless to say, I am happy and am sleeping much more soundly.
While I was in Barcelona visiting Stephanie a few weeks ago, I started to read Chuck Klosterman’s Killing Yourself to Live because it was on her roommate’s night table. I hate not finishing books. So after receiving it yesterday, I finished it today. At the end of the day, I’m not sure what to say about it. I have read a few articles of Klosterman’s before but I’ve never read any of his books. I have plenty of negative things to say about it, not the least of which is that it appears to me to have no general point, especially not about the deaths of musicians. However, I do think he has his moments. His commentary on New York culture, while perhaps sometimes a bit too seeped in hipster self-awareness, is sometimes right on. And there is one passage towards the end of the book that seems to perhaps be the “point” of the book, even if the rest doesn’t necessarily lead up to it. It summarized what for me seems to be one of the saddest things about relationships. That said, I hate that I think this passage is true. He is essentially saying that there is one person that you fall in love with, that while you may not love them for the rest of your life, will always haunt your relationships. It is not the romantic notion of unrequited love or soul mates. He simply points out that inevitably, and often retrospectively, one person will become the definition of what loves feels like, “who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of those lovable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. You will remember having conversations with this person that never actually happened” And for me, an insufferably proud person, the worst part “That person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everybody else”. I hate losing, but I guess according to this theory everybody loses to somebody. That being said, don’t read the book. Those of you that live in New York will only be reading it because you are from New York, that’s probably why I did. There are better things out there to read. I’m merely saying that I think that he is right on this point, and it is depressing.
That thought aside, I am actually in an unusually fabulous mood. I just came from a class at my gym led by the cutest short girl with a high voice that’s always going “Uno, dos, tres, cuatro!” in pretty much the cutest way possible. On that note I am going to go shower and go out because I should not be sitting writing at 10 pm on a Friday night”.

2006-08-24T13:28:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRx-peWf9ak

I find it hilarious that I even peripherally associate with this person.

A post for no one - because that is who reads this blog

2006-08-24T07:19:00.000-07:00

New York is a place full of emotions and emotional people. It's true that we might hide behind our Stella Artois or gin and tonic or in our new Gucci dress or with the click of our heels on the pavement. But nevertheless New Yorkers are angry. New Yorkers fall in love, and out of love. They cry and scream just like everyone else. I only know because I can hear it on the streets or in my own apartment. But one thing I think New Yorkers might just lack is the feeling of guilt. Guilt just doesnt seem to fit between our stressful job, our reservation at Ono, cocktails downtown, or brunch the next morning. Guilt just isn't convenient in a city, where we may be emotional, but only when it comes to ourselves. It only took a trip an hour and a half out of the city to remember about guilt. And since then I've been thinking about it nonstop. Someone recently told me that guilt is a two-sided coin, it can make you do better, but it can also weigh you down if you don't release it. Certainly, New Yorkers do not want to be slowed down by guilt. By Sunday morning no one wants to think about Saturday night's guy or girl, or be slowed down by apologizing to those friends you blew off to be with said guy or girl. As long as we're stealthy we can avoid owning up to our mistakes or getting caught in our lies. But in a slower place, where the honking and the alcohol doesnt inebriate you, guilt finds its way in even without getting caught. Many New Yorkers, myself included, don't really believe in much spiritually. We live in a world of concrete things, almost literally. This makes not asking for forgiveness easy as long as we can preclude guilt. No religion informs our decisions are demands our apologies. But if guilt gets its nasty smell all over you, and you have no God to forgive you with a sign of the cross, who do you ask? And if this guilt has already achieved its one goal, improving one's future decisions, how does one release it without having to take an ugly look at the past?

read and love it

2006-06-27T09:45:00.000-07:00

http://greenbean22.livejournal.com/

The end of an era

2006-06-21T15:25:00.000-07:00

I've realized that some of the most amusing interaction I have nowadays are with the nine-year-old that I babysit, as is obvious from some previous posts. After two years after spending every afternoon with someone, regardless of age, this is inevitable. This Friday is my last day babysitting. In tribute two awesome quotes:

Damian (singing to David Bowie but making up new lyrics): You smell like goat cheese...ooooh yea....and there's nothing I can do about the smell!

Later...
After purposely frustrating me by saying what I said didnt make sense (when it did!): Danielle....you just can't handle my level of sarcasm.

2006-06-12T12:57:00.000-07:00

P.S.

Alexa got an apartment of her very own with her sister. She moves on July 1st. We will miss her dearly. But it will give us an excuse to go all the way up to the east side just to have 10 dollar brunch with unlimited mimosas that will lead us to waste away all of our Sundays. In addition, our dear friend Jenny will be with us for three weeks in July. If you dont' know Jenny, you will. She is way louder than me, this is saying something. It will be fabulous.

It's ALWAYS there (even when you can't be grounded anymore)

2006-06-12T12:44:00.000-07:00

Just the other day while confiding in me about his grounding, I had the following exchange with the nine year old that I babysit:

"Danielle, you know how there's that naughty side of you that wants to do stuff even though you KNOW you shouldn't" (with a name like Damian what can you expect)

"Of course, but you have to learn not to because then you get grounded and that's not worth it" (obligatory paid response from babysitter)

"But Danielle it's ALWAYS there".

-Wisdom from Damian

Wednesday May 24th

2006-05-24T12:58:00.000-07:00

TODAY;

1. case of beer on the roof
2. dance party
3. ignoring all responsibilities
4. Midday drunk dials
5. Alexa lyrically dancing to "Don't Speak" RIGHT now

that is all.

2006-05-14T18:02:00.000-07:00

There ae a few things that I will always love about coming home no matter how much I complain about it. Considering the past week or so, the most important seems to be that they will always be on your side, even when you really aren't. This goes for Andrew that is equally part of my family. Second is Sunday dinners. Big family Sunda dinners are the most excellent experiences. Food and my family's ritual making fun of the looks of everyone else. Of course this ends in one leaving my Aunt's house stuffed with fattening food and paranoid about your weight because they spent all of dinner making fun of everyone else's obesity. Despite this, it is still excellent. Last night sitting on my fire escape and drinking shitty red wine I realized that I would be ok spending the rest of the summer just like that. Andrew is here. I must go.

ALEXA IS MOVING IN

2006-05-03T06:56:00.000-07:00

Dear world,

Alexa Newton, our dear and beloved friend, has obtained the coveted position of third roommate, residing on our futon. The combination is going to be beyond possible explanation.

Also I am unemployed. Anyone who can find me a part-time job that pays reasonably should contact me immediately.

I will now return to my piping hot coffee and not quite so hot paper on German politics and memory

A new page

2006-04-30T18:02:00.000-07:00

I realize that my long-abandoned blog has probably inspired long-abandoned readership, but nonetheless I have decided to revive it. In all seriousness, I don't know how much I write because people read anyhow, and how much I write to a. procrastinate and b. well, just write. Right now, it is a bit of both. After reading through the past year of occasional and sporadic blogging, I have come to the conclusion that my blog was truly boring. I will try to remedy this. As some of you may know I am interning at Hillary Clinton's office this summer, as well as working (although this further employment has yet to be secured). Also, I am now living on 2nd and C, which is where I am right now. Something about this apartment feels more like a real home to me than anything has in a long time. Dorm rooms, no matter how much they resemble apartments, are never truly yours. And my house ceased to feel like home the moment I moved out freshman year.

Although none of my finals have been taken, and none of my papers turned in, I have already closed the chapter of this year in my mind. This has been by far the most difficult few months of my life. I could pinpoint several reasons why, but I think more than anything it has been a change in perspective. Some changes in perspective are easily explainable; the first time you move away, the first time you fall in love, the first time your heart is broken. And yet although I can feel this one, I can't quite explain it. But I feel as though I am inextricably a different person. My doctor may tell you that I had a chemical imbalance this spring, and that's why I was so confused, and OBVIOUSLY needed to fix my serotonin levels. But I feel quite a bit better now, I'm able to sleep, I"m happy, and so I say HA! mr. doctor man. There was nothing wrong with me, I was just thinking. And now of course I am done thinking and can charge forth into a summer of mind numbing drinking. Ha. This is the only blog of this kind that will be written. All others will be less self-indulgent and only discuss interesting encounters and information that I believe will be useful, interesting, and enlightening to my readership, that non-existant one, that is.

You may all go back to your regularly scheduled programming, I am going to return to my cigarette (sorry Willa).

2006-04-13T22:01:00.000-07:00

For any crazy person who still checks this neglected blog, I am sadly in search of ID. Let me know

Post Spring Break funk

2006-03-29T10:03:00.000-08:00

I can't quite pinpoint why, but ever since returning from Berlin I have felt, well, less than motivated to do just about anything.
I have instead spent an inordinate amount of time skipping class, eating, lying on my bed, reading, watching bad television, and really anything that isn't productive. In the meantime, I have come up with at least one or two conclusions. One: I will go crazy if I continue along this path. Two: I will fail school if I continue along this way.

But, most importantly for people bored enough to read this blog, but least important to life: This blog is useless and boring and needs a theme or purpose, because frankly my life is just not that interesting. I am starting a book blog because I am a shameless copycat of my roommate, but I also will be transforming this blog shortly to something, I don't know what. Check, it's coming.

2006-03-09T10:12:00.000-08:00

There is approximately half a thermos of black coffee and entire pot of apricot peach tea running through my veins, making it nearly impossible for me to focus on this Spanish essay. The revised version that I received from my adorable but incomprehensible professor is so covered in illegible handwriting that I have pretty much given up on deciphering what she really wants from me. Instead of writing either of my papers that are due tomorrow I find myself daydreaming about a week of total lack of responsibility that somehow seems so far away. I think that time is crawling.

2006-03-08T12:04:00.000-08:00

While walking down Washington Square South lighting a cigarette a man passing me by said quite clearly, looking me straight in the eyes, "You are weak". For some reason that is truly beyond me, I feel wounded by this much more so than is warranted considering he was a complete stranger with no authority to tell me whether I am weak or not.

In other news, two papers to go until Berlin. Sadly both of these papers for some reason seem to be beyond my feeling of control and capability. Every paper I write in Spanish is a shot in the dark, because I have yet to master Spanish to the point of comfortable literary analysis. Secondly, I don't know why but this literature class paper is just not coming together. I think I feel particularly self-conscious because at office hours, my professor asked me if I had ever written a literature paper. I know I have no right to be offended because she has never really read any of my writing from which to judge, but I feel the need to write an excellent paper showing my extremem capability in writing a literature paper. This however, is not happening. Maybe because I am writing in my blog rather than working as a I should be. In any case as of approximately 5 pm on Friday I will have no worries despite how good or bad my papers turn out.

Back to analyzing Zadie Smith's portrayal of multiculturalism as indirect racism.

2006-02-28T11:41:00.000-08:00

I would like to add that, after a saw a few people in the library that I know quite a bit about but don't know me, I think I may have at least pinpointed one of the problems. I know too many people that don't know me, and well think about them, and that is weird. And embarassing. I should try to stop this.

Dreams. Argh.

2006-02-28T11:29:00.000-08:00

I find more and more that my uncanny (or at least to me uncanny) ability to remember my dreams causes a great deal of disturbance in my everyday life. First of all, I tend to dream about small things in my life that I know I have to do i.e. checking my balance on my debit card. The other day I thought that I had checked it and even had an amount in my head when in fact this was just a dream.

This however is a small problem compared with my next two problems in my dreams interfering with everyday life. i tend to have a great deal of anxiety driven dreams. I believe this is because of my neurotic tendencies that I attempt to supress everyday so as not to seem, well, crazy. Therefore these dreams leave me to wake up panic-stricken on most morning and usually tend to affect my decisions about important events (I tend to think that whatever I am scared of in my dream are my actual fears and make decisions so as to alleviate these fears...no more can be said here without causing problems).

Finally, my dreams almost always involve a great deal of people in my life in situations that would never actually occur. Such as a very romantic dream about a certain member of my comparative literature class that I have never actually even spoken to. This made concentrating in Comp. Lit. today a very difficult exercise. When the people in my dreams are closer to me personally it is hard to see them the same and interact with them the same afterwards. This being said, I believe that my dreams cause a great deal of undue stress. Perhaps I should look into ways of clearing my mind or some other psycho babble nonsense in order to stop these anxiety dreams because they are taking up too much of my thought during the day.

2006-02-26T16:38:00.000-08:00

This weekend has been quite lovely despite some hiccups in my plans and some failures to be as cultured as I wanted to be. Friday night I went to Crash Mansion and Orchard Bar, where due to both an open and two fellows we picked up neither Maggie or I had to pay for any of our drinks. Saturday was a day entirely devoted to the life partner status that Willa and I enjoy. Boyfriend or not, Willa is always my life partner. We went to the public library, where I procured a library card that I have been meaning to get, and selected fine books which we can read while procrastinating reading the books we should be reading. Next we headed up the Frick to see the De Goya exhibit. Unfortunately the line was an hour long, and with Willa needing to go to the bathroom and me just being impatient, we gave up on the venture. "Tomorrow" we said "we will go the P.S. 1 opening and all will be well".(This as you will see, also failed). We went out to dinner at this spectacularly adorable little restaurant on E.7th street which is supposedly called Hideaway Cafe but only has a sign that says Jimmy's (this was the cause of great initial confusion). Anyhow, dinner was great. The beer was great. And it was a fabulous date all in all. We then proceeded to curl up at home and watch Frida. It was significantly better than going out in my opinion.

Finally today I planned to go to the PS 1 exhibit after work. After falling in the middle of the street (image: Dani in freshly dry cleaned jacket smoking a cigarette suddenly trips and falls face forward, severely damaging the first layer of skin on her hands, owl) I didn't feel like doing much of anything. I came home and Willa was asleep anyway, I decided to follow suit.

Good weekend. Busy week ahead. Even better weekend coming up (hopefully!)

2006-02-23T18:51:00.000-08:00

Wine tasting at Astor. 25% off all wines. Red wine and Olympic ice skating. Overall a lovely Thursday evening. Who needs to go out?

2006-02-09T10:25:00.000-08:00

This morning I was greeted by a link to an article about, what I'm sure many of you have already read about, the hanging of a 17-year old Iranian girl charged with murder. For those of you who haven't read, the girl admitted to stabbing the man first in the hand and later in the chest, not intending to kill him, but rather trying to protect herself and her neice as three men tried to attack and rape them. As my friend Jason puts it so eloquently "Why is there no outrage?" While there are approximately a bajillion new articles a day about James Frey, which I am not discounting because it made for good reading and communal anger, nobody wants to read about this stuff. We spent a great deal of time in my Comparative Literature class today discussing the offensive Muslim cartoons and a newspaper in Iran's reaction by instituting a contest for "Holocaust Cartoons". Perrsonally I think it is incredibly sad for those who were hurt by the offensive cartoons because the violent and irrational reactions of some, leading to the death of at least four (I think more now) in Afghanistan, has taken the focus off of the offensive and inherently prejudice nature of the cartoons and the newspapers that chose to publish them, and more on the violent reactions of groups in the Middle East.

I feel as though every day in the past week I have woken up to fresh tragedy, most of which have been very close to home.

2006-02-06T09:26:00.000-08:00

First I would like to say, that I did in fact watch the super bowl as was my genetic duty to my father and brother, dedicated Steelers fans. Woo, go Steelers! Secondly, I would like to say that I was greatly comforted this morning while reading Gawker to learn that I was not the only one disturbed by the pepsi commercial slogan "brown and bubble". Personally, although soda is actually brown, I never want to think about it, the color brown sounds so distasteful. This is why of course, as Josh pointed out, coke always describes their beverage as caramel-colored. Now caramel, that is a pleasing image, brown, not. Another reason why coke is better than pepsi. (Although I rarely drink either).

Disclaimer: This is in no way a commentary on the Ban on Coke or Coca Cola's treatment of their workers, just simply that they make better soda, and describe it in a more appealing manner.

2006-02-02T14:30:00.000-08:00

I read a few weeks ago that January 23rd is supposed to be the most depressing day of the year according to certain psychologists (having something to do with the hope for new years resolutions dying away, the weather, etc.) however I am fairly certain that this date has been miscalculated, the day is in fact February 2nd. Waking up to go to class today was most certainly like death, a man at cafe esperanto insisted on having a "kiss" before he left in an inappropriate manner that I found in no way humorous, I was locked out of my apartment when the utmost urge to use the bathroom hit, and just as I realized that someone is by far the most important and best thing I've ever had, I may have lost that person.

And now I feel as though all my problems are incredibly minor because Willa has just gone on her way to LaGuardia because her father is in the hospital.

Soon this day will end and tomorrow has to better, it could at worst only be the second worst day of the year.

2006-02-02T00:49:00.000-08:00

Fuck.

Everybody Dance.

2006-01-28T17:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was involved in two dance parties. One was with the nine year old that I babysit, and we danced sillily around his expensive west village apartment living room. The second was at Orchard Bar. They both involved Madonna's Hung Up and they were both excellent in their very different ways.

A little bit of karma will carry your groceries ten blocks...

2006-01-26T14:48:00.000-08:00

Walking home from campus yesterday i had an experienced that confirmed my belief in karma.

Alright that was a lie, I don't believe in God, karma, buddha, etc. But if I did believe, this would have confirmed it. I made the truly unfortunate choice of walking home from campus despite being laden down with bags and bags of groceries, in my mind it had something to do with needing a brisk walk and some open air. Anyhow it became clear quickly that these bags were way too heavy to make for an enjoyable trip. Anyhow I saw a group of clearly lost middle-aged women, asked them where they were going, and sent them off in the right direction. Feeling good about the fact that New York has not yet taken all friendly kindness out of me, I struggled along with my groceries.

About two blocks later, a nice looking chap in his twenties sees my fuddling with my bags and offers to carry them for me as far downtown as he is heading. We had a lovely chat, he was heading to a first date, a ghost writer heading off to Europe for a month, etc. etc. and he turned out to be a very interesting guy. By the end of our short walk downtown I sort of wanted him to take me on a first date and my faith in New Yorkers was restored (until of course I have witnessed a bevy of rude acts by New Yorkers). This was my tidbit to add to those who still visit this site even though I only update once a month or so.

Family Fun and Midgetville

2005-12-24T20:21:00.000-08:00

I have abandoned my blog to the point of it's almost non-existance. However, on this Christmas Eve, I wanted to take time to reflect on family and home, aren't I so sweet? My cousin and his girlfriend maybe the most adorable and cheesy couple I have ever witnessed. I cannot quite decide whether they are everything that I aspire to be, or everything I aspire not to be? In any case, one thing is clear, I will never be able to function in such a relationship of sickening perfection. Anyway, the point is, in their sickeningly perfect way, they made a hilariously fun family trivia game to liven up the Lang Christmas Eve Celebration. I believe we scared away my cousin's sweet midwestern girlfriend with our competitive attitude, often filled with animosity. Some highlights from the game are as follows:
1. Who is the character who enjoyed knitting, sewing, and cooking for my Uncle Joe in the midst of driving him around?
Correct Answer: Driver Bob, a man who was hired to drive my uncle around for business when his license was revoked because of problems with controlling his diabetes. This man was clearly in love with my Uncle and would deliver delicious gifts of food and love gifts such as crocheted blankets. Well, from what I can remember it was pretty twisted, but at least our Sunday dinners were more delicious.
2. What American restaurant did the family eat at while visiting my cousin who was studying in London?
Answer: McDonald's, we are sickeningly American.
3. In what seaside town did a bed and breakfast wish to turn us away?
Answer: Mystic Seaport. After an entire day of driving, eating fast food and potato chips and I'm sure lots of whining, my entire family, aunts, uncle, cousins, siblings, etc. clambered out of our, then, large van (you know the ones with a TV build in and the like) in not quite spectacular condition. The waspy woman who ran the bed and breakfast we had reservations at honestly tried to turn us away. Ah so American, and more important, so Levittownian.

Really the entertainment was endless for me, but I am sure that I am boring you all quite a bit. The game was followed by the perusing of the book "Weird PA" where we learned that there is a real live midgetville in Pennsylvania, with tiny houses and mailboxes and all. A family roadtrip is being planned.

I am off to read and plan my sick and twisted friends trivia game (because, according to kevin, nothing but funny and mean things can come of this when done with friends).

Good night. Perhaps the new year will bring more entries. But most likely not.

A moment of self-indulgence

2005-11-13T15:51:00.000-08:00

I would like to preface this post with the following: This post and the one previous are both most likely incredibly boring and are purely a self-indulgent way of getting thoughts out of my head and into writing, in hopes of freeing myself from them.

I am once again having doubts. Although these are much more personal, and not just some thought on general behavior. I realized today walking through Washington Square, cigarette in one hand, cell phone in another, having not slept more than 3 consecutive hours in days, that well, not only do I have no idea what I really want to do, but that anything I want to do I am no longer sure that I can do. The first part comes as no suprise really, I have eschewed from my mind the fact that I really have no certain life plan for a long time. But I have somewhat accepted it with the pleasing thought that whatever I do, it will end up being something of import, something worth living for. And although I certainly still believe that any aspirations I have will be for work that has meaning, I am significantly doubting my ability to live up to what would be required of me. It seems as though everything on which I pride (or prided) myself on is a farce, dreamed up in a high school world where I happenned to be at the top of my class and so everyone thought I was so 'capable'. In fact, I cannot even remember the last time I wrote something that I was truly and honestly proud of, and yet I often say that writing is something that I 'do'. This type of thought process proceeds for pretty much every facet of life that I once thought of myself as at least somewhat above average.
What perhaps is more disturbing though is that I often feel that I am not the person, emotionally and characteristically, that I envision myself as. Despite my many admitted faults, my most precious part of myself concept has come under serious attack from well, myself. I have always claimed to be a strong, independent, and capable person. I excused my emotional behavior as nothing but a sensitive and perceptive nature, not a lack of strength. But is it truly a strong woman that tends to have at least mini nervous breakdowns every couple months, engages in a great deal of self-destructive choices, and is at least slightly neurotic about every relationship in my life? This all said, I am starting to feel as though maybe everyone near to me is right, I am really damn hard on myself. And perhaps more than working on being a perfect image of myself, I should work on stop being so critical, because I am equally critical about everyone around me. Or maybe, this is just my attempt to conclude with something positive because this blog is a bit too depressing for me to handle since I don't have the luxury of curling up in my closet and reading and drinking myself to sleep at the moment.

2005-11-12T18:51:00.000-08:00

It seems to me that despite that fact that women my age are allowed to claim total equality, or at least I feel that way most of the time, in their social groups, they somehow have still earned the right to claim moral superiority. Even though girls my age have been able to shake the expectations of modesty, purity, and virginity, men are still labeled as the less "feeling" and less sensitive gender. We can easily say that men are the cheaters and the liars. When men cheat or lie it makes them pricks, assholes, and downright chauvenistic. However, girls seemed to rationalize away all of their moral failures in these areas, that somehow our failures are only because of the insensitivity of men.
Certainly, this pattern like most is based at least partially in truth. Every woman seems to have enough viable stories of insensitivity to drive any girl to such thoughts. But I think that most guys do too, but it just isn't considered appropriate for them to voice them as loudly. Not only is this totally unfair to men(I think that most men have accepted that girls say these things and dismiss most of it) but I think it is really unhealthy for my generation of females. It leaves us with the ability to rationallize away all of our own behavior. I know that I have had my fair share of dishonest or unfair behavior. And yet, it seems as though it can always be rationalized away, not only by myself but by my friends with whom I confide my guilty feelings. It's not as though I want to feel guilty, or that I think I should. But I think that the blame should lie equally and the way I see it, it usualy doesn't. The fact is, I have recently reaized how many great guys I have in my life that are truly good people. It's definately necessary that we remember that there is probably an equal proportion of great honest guys to truly honest girls. So thank you, to the men in my life that have reminded me that being a girl doesn't let anyone off the hook and being a guy doesn't always mean you are to blame.

P.S. Kristen thought I should write about what a loser she is. She is sitting at home on a Saturday night watching Lord of the Rings by herself and drinking beer. Everyone point and laugh.

oh my god

2005-10-22T10:59:00.000-07:00

these girls are just plain scary -

http://abcnews.go.com/Primetime/story?id=1231684&page=3

Oh Christina Dolores Lang

2005-10-16T17:29:00.000-07:00

My mother came today, she is really rather good today. She nursed Kristen and I's hangovers with delicious crepes for brunch. Then she occupied my day, that would have otherwise been full of studying and responsible activities, with shopping. And I am left guilt-free because I was spending quality time with my mom. At the end of the day I am left with 3 new pairs of excellent underwear, a new wallet, and this amazing image:

-Broadway in Soho milling with weekend shoppers, my mother adamantly (and rather loudly saying) "do not have sex with him!" repeatedly until she notices the twenty something next to us staring uncomfortably, and then my mom abashedly, "so very sorry...."

My mom knows how to give me good (and oh so appropriate) maternal advice.

2005-10-13T10:09:00.000-07:00

Despite the fact that I am currently sitting in Bobst Library in sopping wet tight jeans and cursing the fact that I have an extensive amount of walking to do in this weather, I am in a substantially better mood than the rest of this week has provided. This may have something to do that I am finally coming off of a full night's sleep after an excruciating all night paper writing experience. I have to say that this one was significantly more enjoyable because of my companion in crime, miss willa cmiel. That is to say however, not very (enjoyable). Also, it is Thursday, ostensibly the weekend, which means that I have 72 hours to procrastinate doing school work. Finally, although the news forcast says rain, i dont care because my weekend shoud include heavy drinking and much irresponsible fun. The final reason for the improvement in my mental state iis the fact that in one week my husband, a Mr. Andrew Sigal, is coming all the way from Virginia to see me. yes, we do cheat on each other a considerable amount, and have never so much as kissed, but we are married nonetheless. but who would expect anything less than a disfunctional marriage from me, the queen of disfunctionality.

Two general questions:

1. I am attending a 16th birthday party for my friend Noelle's little sister at Greenwich hotel this weekend. First, should I feel guilty for attending something as corrupting and age innappropriate as this? And secondly, how much do you want to wager that an inappropriate number of 20 somethings hit on this poor sophomore in high school?

2. Secondly, do I seem like a person who would honestly say "I want your bod" in a serious expression of desire? Just curious, cause someone thinks I am, and I find this disturbing on all levels.

P.s. there previously was a cheesy saying in this post...it has been removed to make my critical friends happy

An anniversary of sorts

2005-10-05T12:56:00.000-07:00

Yes, it is officially the one month anniversary of my blog neglect. Apparently attending classes (at least the ones I do) and updating do not go hand in hand, which explains why this was begun over the summer where a trip to Red Robin was about as exciting as an evening got. For those of you unfamiliar with the Red Robin chain and may mistake it for a hot bar or otherwise exciting venue, it is a just a burger place. And I don't even eat burgers.

Anyhow, all this is irrelevant. The events of my Saturday afternoon made me seriously reconsider an internship that makes me depend so heavily on the MTA. As I was expected at Grand Army Plaza around 12:30, I rolled my hungover self out of bed and out the doors of Lafayette at precisely 12 pm. Lovely.

After the 4 local decided not to run through City Hall, and the 2,3 decided not to go to either Chambers St. or Broadway/Nassau, both of which I walked to, I was slightly perturbed. While treking back to catch 4 at Broadway and then transfer, I had a rather large 30-something man grab my ass on an empty platform. I was an hour late arriving in Brooklyn, and not in the mood to energetically rally behind "Fernando Ferrer para alcalde!". But after cathartic interchange of complaints with my fellow intern, I was feeling slightly revived. After the event, I wandered through the farmer's market and bought some delicious fruit.

However, when my train returning to Manhattan was delayed for 20 minutes while a large man sitting in front of me insisted on telling me how votes don't matter, and that the government is one large sham that will soon abolish the vote altogether, my hopes were once again dashed. I returned to my room late in the afternoon with a pint of Ben & Jerry's Karamel Sutra and waiting until I could properly drink off my day.

Yea, the MTA is on my shit list way more than usual. But on the up side, I discovered a new website on which to procrastinate-www.overheardinnewyork.com - really entertaining, I suggest it. It would be good couple with postsecret.com I believe.

A Skinny evening

2005-09-05T23:30:00.000-07:00

I realized today, in my only slightly tipsy state, that it is quite possible that I will always be a bit of a mess. I forget my ID going to the floor meeting when it is clearly mandated to bring it; I lose my purse, my phone, and other important assets; and I have those occasional nights without a clue as to how I returned home (thanks to those last Monday who threw me off the subway just in time). I am also overly sensitive, fall for all the wrong people at the wrong times, and continually find myself in embarrassing situations. These are probably some of my failures that I have to accept.
Despite these inherent failures, I am (despite the drawl of rising near before noon every day for the rest of my life) glad to return to the world in which I do in some ways succeed; balancing school, work, an internship, and still managing a respectable social life. Without such productivity I feel like an incredible waste. This entire summer, despite my working 40-45 hours a week, felt so empty without these different facets of my life. Living at my house, with practically no independence, I felt like a leech to my household, this is my least favorite feeling.
In other news, I spent a great deal of my day today thinking about how being a somewhat independent girl in New York can really suck, for lack of a better word, a great deal of the time. Since I returned to the city I feel like I have been inundated with stories of sexual harassment etc. etc. from all my girlfriends that I truly respect. Not too mention the inappropriate comments I consistently receive while campaigning, a.k.a. “give me your number and I’ll vote for Freddy”, “it’s your picture I want, not his”. Please, let me do my job, however unpaid. So these are my thoughts of my post-Skinny evening. I hope I have redeemed myself to all those who witnessed me last Monday.
P.S. Well done Joe, excellent evening offhand.
Also, Athena I “did” you, in all senses of the word. Eek, nevermind, just check the comments.

2005-09-01T14:01:00.000-07:00

1. Reply with your name and I'll respond with something random about you.
2. I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
3. I'll pick a flavor of jello to wrestle with you in. (edit: this has to be like...vegan jello, ok?)
4. I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me.
5. I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6. I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7. I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.
8. If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal. You MUST. It is written, thus why it has appeared on my blog to begin with.

2005-08-31T15:47:00.000-07:00

Willa just told me that as I was scurrying across my bed with my hair all messy she thought I resembled some sort of animal. I don't know how I feel about that. So I'm just going to take it as a compliment. Somehow.

Anyhow, it's amazing to me how different I feel just being back in the city. Due to my new internship among other things I have been spending an uncanny amount of time on the subway. This, I think, is the perfect way to get reacquainted with some of the lesser points of New York. Just today I've seen at least two schizophrenics talking to themselves, a blind man singing on the subway, and a lot of hot angry New Yorkers from every tax bracket.

My new internship with Ferrer's campaign is going well ( despite my obvious hungover state on my first day yesterday after a night of excessive drinking). It does however require often speaking to strangers on the street, signing up volunteers, etc. New Yorkers are not necessarily the friendliest of folk. I am fairly certain that I got quite a few guys to sign up with my feminine wiles. I seriously doubt that they will ever come out to an event though unfortunately.

This was going to be a far more exciting and thoughtful post but then I realized that I am really tired.

A far more riveting post to come. I promise.

In recognition of those that I readily forget to recognize.

2005-08-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

I have spent a great deal of this summer missing New York, missing bars, missing friends, and essentially missing lots of things that are not readily available in Yardley, PA. However, here are some pretty awesome things that are readily available:
1. A girl who I have loved long enough to remember the butterfly silver ring she used to wear in 7th grade that apparently fell under her bed and was discovered today while moving.
2. A boy who I have loved long enough to feel free to yell at because I'm having a bad day and it just makes me feel better.
3. A residential tot lot in which to nostalgically smoke weed.
4. An entire group of friends that know me so well that I never have to impress anyone. Because no matter what anyone says, a lot of times we all feel the need to impress people a little bit.

In other news, today I witnessed a large golden retriever whimpering and continually running away from a five pound miniature doxen. It was essentially the equivalent of Shaq whimpering and running away from me. I admire Zelda, the Doxen. Someday I aspire to scare away Shaquille O'Neil or otherwise freakishly giant man. But unless this giant man is unusually afraid of sarcasm, wit, or mildly neurotic females, frankly I don't see it happen. Good job Zelda, making it happen for the rest of us.

Thank goodness for my short fat mexican grandma...

2005-08-11T09:48:00.000-07:00

Yes, I have a slightly insane 4'11" overweight Mexican grandmother and oh how I love that she is related to me. I think she has lost it a little bit, like when she guesses the wrong name in trivial pursuit and when you correct her she says "yea, him too". I'm pretty certain that someday I too will shrink and become fat and be the crazy fat little grandma. Although to do this I may actually have to have children, eek!
Anyhow, my refridgerator is currently full of the most orgasmic chilli salsa ever. However, most of you that do not reside in my general vicinity will most likely never taste it. Maybe if your lucky, and ask really nicely, I will make you all som (sexual favors or straight cash may also be accepted). For all of you that do reside in dull Yardley, PA this may be the first time that your residence will work to your advantage. Saturday night, I will most likely be hosting a mexican-themed party serving margaritas and such and some of that orgasmic salsa. Some come, eat, drink a lot, and be merry.

I hate when I live the stereotypes and secretly like it.

2005-08-05T11:06:00.000-07:00

I feel like the past few days of my life have consisted of me living out stereotypes that I claim to hate. On wednesday night I attended a couples event. I hate cute couples that hang out in groups. They are offensively adorable and gross. Nevertheless, I found myself with Tyler, my friend Patti and her boyfriend, and two other couples sitting at the diner and then playing cards and pool all night. Normally an evening such of this would have ignited serious relationship phobia, I am more scared of myself that it did not. I am so ashamed.
As if this was not bad enough, last night I entertained the evening of the oh so typical stoner. Despite my occasional pot smoking habit, I try not to resemble the brainless majority of persons who share my habit. However, Jordan, Megan, and I did nothing but smoke and drive around last night. The conversation mostly resembled this: "Wow I am so happy" , "Wow, I am so stoned", "Guys, this street is sooooo pretty" (referring to a street we very commonly drive down), "Oh my god it is so pretty" "Like, yea, my body feels so good". I am so ashamed.
All this nonsense aside, apparently Friday August 5th is the official return to Yardley day, for all of you who were ignorant. Today my mother returned from the hospital, my brother is coming home, my grandma is visiting from CA, alexa returns from Finland, and my friend Andy is coming for the weekend. I am working 21 hours in the next two days. I am clearly going to be able to spend ample time with each of them.
Next weekend I am going to WVU with my friend Laura. The bars there have things such as penny pitchers. A poor alcoholic that lives in New York ( and therefore usually forfeits paychecks for nights out drinking) exposed to things such as penny bitchers and $1 mixed drinks is scary. Very scary. But also, rather exciting if i do say so myself.

Things I learned today.

2005-08-01T22:18:00.000-07:00

Things that I learned today.
1. cutting lots of things with a slicer all day is a good way to let out excess agression. i now feel purged of a lot of my anger.
2. my new suitemate (assigned as a result of my other suitemate obtaining an apartment, lucky bitch) is a tisch-y from long island. we shall see i suppose.
3. I can have fun at an ultimate frisbee game, who knew?

2005-07-31T13:18:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was my birthday, it was a series of highs and lows. I feel like birthdays should only include highs. Therefore I will omit lengthy discussion of the lows we'll just say some of them included making sandwiches and serving beer in the day and someone making me cry. However my evening was very successful otherwise. I got very wasted on my birthday, which is clearly the best idea. In light of my birthday, I chose to be adventurous and had a different type of drink every round. This may not have been good for my stomach but it made for a more interesting drinking experience. I was a bit disappointed that I put money in the jukebox and then was not able to enjoy my selections as I quickly forgot what they were. Anyhow, pictures will be coming soon. The train ride home was rather obnoxious. As Tyler, Laura, and I were trying to sleep in our appropriate post Saturday night stupor a group of four girls thought it would be fun to laugh and talk as loud as physically possible. Unnecessary. Birthday dinner with the family tonight, woo.

2005-07-19T12:50:00.000-07:00

You will see in the picture above that I appear rather happy, smiling fact. True this may be because I was rather intoxicated at my best friend's rather successful party, but it could also be because I had yet to finish reading Harry Potter. Now that I have, I am laying on my couch, updating my blog, and watching Win a Date with Tad Hamilton. Needless to say, I am no longer smiling so jubilantly. Yes, I just used the word jubilantly. In other news, I have had a rather eventful week or so. On Saturday morning I dragged myself off of Andrew's couch, or rather my friend Tyler dragged me off the couch, at 7 am after approximately 2 hours of sleep and a night of heavy drinking. However, it was all worth it. I went to Rice's (a local flea market for those not in the know) and came home with a collection of t-shirts, excellent jewelry, and a pair of juicy jeans that i would never purchase at full price. I was a bit of a movie hound this weekend as well, I saw both Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and Wedding Crashers. Both are highly recommended, though for totally different appeals. For those of you who will be in New York on July 30th (my birthday hint hint) I will be having a bit of a party at a bar, talk to me. I am going to sulk now in my Harry Potter sadness.

P.S. If anyone is thinking that the picture was posted more because I wanted an excuse to photoblog than to make a point, you are right.

I really need a license...

2005-07-08T06:29:00.000-07:00

I've finally come to the realization that most people come to around the age 16: I really do need a license. I came to this epiphany while walking to work in the rain, and then pitifully accepting a ride home from my manager. Although there are some moments when I rather enjoy my lack of motor mobility. for example, yesterday I, in the true manner of a 13 year old friendless dork, rode my bicycle to the local library and was quite excited about my new books. As I have the entire weekend off I am debating my weekend's activities...the beach, the city, camping? who knows. if you have any brilliant suggestions you should relay them to me immediately.

Yes I'm 19 and still bitter about the eigth grade

2005-06-17T17:12:00.000-07:00

So it's been a while. Earlier this week I went into my mom's school because she was paying me to file some things and such, and well I can enjoy menial tasks as such. I was hoping that the students reaction to my presence in the classroom may have helped me guage how old I look. However I only learned that I apparently can range the age of 13, an eighth grader, to at least 24, a new substitute teacher.
Anyhow, walking through crowded middle school halls during passing time brought back such vivid memories. You may think that I was nostalgic or reminisced of prepubescent innocence. Wrong! I remembered just how much I do not miss being that age. Looking back on these years I am fairly certain they are the cause of most of my current insecurities and neurosis. If you were an 80 pound flat-chested overly sensitive midget during the most cruel and unforgiving years of pubescense, you would be neurotic and insecure as well. Later that night Alexa and I had a rather insightful conversation about the lack of commpassion that our society breeds, we seem to be able to turn on and off our empathy so easily. That depressed me a lot.
I'm looking forward to reading Ishmael next, I've been told that it will change my life (will update you as to the truth of this prediction).
Current things I am happy about: 1. Kristen has written me, does not hate me, only lost her cell phone.
2. I have been so healthy and active lately.
3. My job at the country club and obtaining my job at my dad's office again
4. Visiting Caryn in NY next weekend
Things I am sad about: 1. Being at the pub way too many nights in a row
2. Everything in Yardley closing after 10 (thus the above mentioned)
3. Concerts selling out.

2005-06-08T13:43:00.000-07:00

Today Alexa and I had an excellent time in the summer sun by my pool. At first we werent positive that we wanted to swim, so then we smoked, and then we were sure. The sun makes me really really tired. I always rediscover this every summer after spending way too much consecutive time in the sun. Today as I was reading Everything is Illuminated I could barely keep my eyes open. This is not due to my lack of interest in this book, quite the contrary. But its really funny how my mind wanders half in dream, half reading. It produces some really wild images, let me tell you. There is this whole part in Everything is Illuminated about how we often love to love more than we actually love something. This really made me think because I think a lot of times when I miss being in a relationship it isn't the individual person I miss, only the feeling of sharing that feeling with someone. I don't really know how that helps things, but I think it does. I think I am going to venture to New York this weekend to spend some time with Tony and others, and well there might be another slight incetive. Anyhow Andrew is here, I am in pretty much my dad's old t-shirt. I'm ok with it

Tequila, Slumber Party, and missing NY

2005-06-03T21:42:00.000-07:00

Tequila shots definately do me in. As the description of my blog claims that this is "ramblings of a most likely intoxicated girl" I felt as though now would be a good time to write in. So generally I wish O could be in new york tomorrow to see the killers in central park and because I wish I could be in new york all the time. But alas, i have work.

Last night we definately played a drinking game version of slumber party the game that was uncovered in my basement. It was kind of excellent. my favorite quote of the evening comes from Kevin to my friend Megan, "I am a 20 year old man playing a game made for 8 year old girls, just do what the card says!:

It is really pretty damn early but nonetheless I am tired and need to go to sleep.

Dancing in my underwear

2005-06-01T10:05:00.000-07:00

Ok so there are some considerable perks to moving home.
--The inheritance of a lot more stuff that isn't mine and that i never paid for. For example, today i am wearing all my mother's clothes to work (it also helps having a mom that has good taste and is exactly your size). Also, I am currently listening to an excellent mix cd recovered from my brother's abandoned bedroom. (Speaking of mixes...alexa you owe me one)

--Having the house to myself. Since I start work at 4 and my parents arrive home around 5, i pretty much have the house to myself all day. Today I blared music and danced around in my brother's undershirt and underwear while cleaning. If there were surveillance cameras in my house these tapes would be pretty embarassing.

My trip to new York was fairly successful. I visited with Caryn and Alicia, had an excellent picnic in Battery Park (picnic blanket included), and hung out on the Upper West Side in an apartment with an incredible balcony. Oh yea, and the company wasn't bad either.

My weird Bucks County coincidence of the trip:
1. a few boys on the street asked us where a good bar was, conversation led me to realize that one of these boys happenned to go to high school with my brother
2. on the subway a boy commented on my fabulous luggage (it is pretty damn fabulous) and i soon learned that he too is from Bucks County and attended a neighboring highschool.

I find this all a bit strange. That is all. I am off to continue to enjoy my empty house.

Oh those Yardley summer nights.

2005-05-27T00:44:00.000-07:00

Despite the fact that I have continually sworn off online journals, somehow I allowed myself to be tempted. Perhaps it is the boredom that Yardley generates mixed with high levels of THC that makes me desire to chronicle my suburban intrigues for everyone to see.

Everything good that happenned today seems to have an equivalent bad thing. For example, today I rode my bike. This was good because a) I need the exercise b) I needed to leave the house. However, I forgot to bring my film with me when the entire purpose of the trip was to drop off film at the store. Therefore, the entire trip was rendered useless.

My evening, though certainly not wild or thrilling, was generally enjoyable (especially for its nostalgic value). I felt as though i had been sent back to last summer before we all went to school. My girls and I went out to dinner. Top down in Laura's orange bug convertible with music blaring, I rememberd how I survived suburbia: I smoked a lot of pot. So here is the REALLY REALLY sad part of the evening: my poor beautiful piece has broken. This is the second piece I have lost this year. It's been rough. I suppose I will have another purchase to make while I am in manhattan on monday.

This post has been incredibly useless and the sad part is that i think it took me a really long time to write. I am off to read more about Humbert Humbert and his Dolly-Lo.

P.S. I might be really stoned, I'm not sure.