Friday, August 05, 2005

I am a dreamer.

Last night in New York
Well, it started out with me and a bunch of interns standing around in a conference room, drinking champagne while Sinatra’s “New York, New York” played on a loop. (I’m not even sure what to say about that.)

Then me and the kids hit the town, all wearing matching t-shirts that said “Dreamer” across the front. I wore mine with stilettos. I ate dinner with people I didn't know very well and we serenaded everyone else in the restaurant with a medley of TLC songs. I tested the sarcasm waters, telling the girl from Harvard that my favorite movies were Jurassic Park 2 and 3. No good, her response, a concerned: "Why would you say that?"

I just got back from a party at the apartment next door. I wowed everyone with my adept flippy cup skills. (I flip it first try, every time, baby.) It’s early, but I came home because A) one of the prettier females kept using my shirt to open her beer bottles and B) I haven’t started packing and I leave tomorrow morning. (seriously, I’m leavin’ on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again.) Fortunately, I can still hear the yelling and loud music through the wall, so it’s like I never left the party… (as I packity pack pack.)

Don't like goodbyes. I guess they provide closure, and I like hugs. But they always play that song by the really fat dead Hawaiian that makes everyone tear up. You know the one-- the version of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" with the "oooooo oooooo ooooo ooo ooo ooo ooooooo..... oooooo." Lucky for me, I can currently hear Missy Elliot's "Get Ur Freak On" coming from next door, so it's all good.

who wants to cuddle?

Doesn't it seem like this man is looking at you right now? Peering into the depths of your soul.. ready to kill. You see, this man killed his wife by hitting her 70 times with a hammer. Why? Because she wanted to cuddle after sex and he wanted to watch sports. It seems like I'm joking, right? It's just too cliche. Well, I'm sure she's burning in hell as I write this. I mean, he gave her sex, how could she possibly expect to occupy more of his precious time? Full story Look at the picture. Can you imagine having sex with him?

PS - This is my last day in new york city and I've never been sadder to leave a place in my life. For reals. My first week here I thought I could never live here, but after living here for two months, I fear I'm doomed to return. (someday)

Thursday, August 04, 2005

I'm sorry

I’ll just be honest. I was/am bored at work and thus filled out this survey. And I think my answers and mood can be accredited to a chemical imbalance induced mania. So, here you go.

Name: Joanna

Birthday: ‘bout 20 years ago, foo

Birthplace: the KY, baby, ba-BAY

Current Location: NY. NY

Eye Color: eye

Hair Color: good

Height: short

Right Handed or Left Handed: hands, fuck, Tim is playing Weird Al, god damn

The Shoes You Wore Today: flippity flops

Your Weakness: Asians

Your Fears: sad clowns, “nigger music”

Your Perfect Pizza: free

Goal You Would Like To Achieve This Year: give up the smack and the kiddie porn

Your Most Overused Phrase On an instant messenger: I saw your profile, please come check my web site to see some nude pictures of me! Let’s be friends

Thoughts First Waking Up: Where’s that faggot-ass nigga trying to hold me back?

Your Best Physical Feature: the baby shark growing off my left side, I named him Sharky.

Your Bedtime: as soon as he says “come to bed, bitch!”

Your Most Missed Memory: that time the guy dressed as a sad clown tried to rape me and then Sharky bit him.

Pepsi or Coke: Coke is for communists, pinkos, etc. That said, I prefer Pepsi.

McDonalds or Burger King: Let’s just say, a Jewish accountant just walked into the office and he didn’t bring a puppy for me to play with, so I am sad.

Single or Group Dates: gang bang all da way

Lipton Ice Tea or Nestea: who drinks tea? What is this, Great Britain? Is it “tea time?” Should I crack out the mothafuckin crumpets?

Chocolate or Vanilla: Vanilla is for retards and men and retarded men. That said, I prefer chocolate.

Cappuccino or Coffee: uhhhhh….. I don’t speak Italian

Do you Smoke: only old stogies that I’ve found

Do you Swear: no

Do you Sing: yes, I love to sing. It’s such a rush. I can stay up all night and then go to work the next day with no sleep. I can just keep going. Wait, maybe I’m thinking less about singing and more about cocaine.

Do you Shower Daily: area of a circle = pi*r squared

Have you been in Love: You might say I’m addicted to love. Love is great. It makes me mentally alert and my heart just races and races until it feels like it’s gonna explode, except sometimes the crash is kind of a bitch.

Do you want to go to College: college is for retards who don’t like money. They say, “hey, I HATE my money and I hate my parents’ money. I’d like to give it away to an institution of higher learning so I can get a semi worthless piece of paper that says I learned something when in fact, I did not. I just got drunk all the time.”

Do you want to get Married: Marriage is a beautiful thing. I think it’s well worth the sporadic nose bleeds. The trust building that blow, I mean marriage, ads to my life is truly a gift.

Do you believe in yourself: God, what am I, five years old? Yeah, sure, I believe in myself. I like to come down the chimney and take your teeth and put money under my own pillow.

Do you get Motion Sickness: Only when I’m singing and/or in love/married.

Do you think you are Attractive: like a magnet baby, like a magnet.

Are you a Health Freak: Well, I’ll tell you this much, just take the H off of Health and the A out of Freak and we’re in business, if you catch my drift. Wink, wink.

Do you get along with your Parents: My parents are great. My mom went down on the president and my dad sang the hit song, “Dancing on the Ceiling.”

Do you like Thunderstorms: Is your mom sexy?

Do you play an Instrument: heh. I play the, oh nevermind.

In the past month have you Drank Alcohol: My god, what a question! I’m 20 years old! In the United States you must be 21 years of age to consume alcoholic beverages, and thus, Sir, the answer is NO.

In the past month have you Smoked: old stogies, yes. That I found.

In the past month have you been on Drugs: I personally, have not done drugs, but Sharky (the baby shark that grows from my left side, if you’ll recall) is quite a fan of crystal meth, as of late.

In the past month have you gone on a Date: No, but I made out with Sharky. We get bored.

In the past month have you had sex: I don’t think Sharky wants me to bring that one up. (wa-wa)

In the past month have you done anything sexual to someone else: I gave my roommate a high five.

In the past month has someone kissed you: the sad clown did, until Sharky bit him

In the past month have you gone to a Mall: ugh, that capitalist pig center of consumerism??? You bet!

In the past month have you eaten a box of Oreos: my diet is exclusively oreos, so of course.

In the past month have you eaten Sushi: RAW fish?! Well, I can’t speak for Sharky, but I just lied and said I eat exclusively oreos, so I’ll have to go with no, to continue the lie.

In the past month have you been on Stage: yeah, he was great.

In the past month have you been Dumped: is that the same thing as searching for my credit card in a dumpster?

In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping: well, I took off all my clothes when I was searching for my credit card in the dumpster.

In the past month have you Stolen Anything: only someone’s heart. *Baddup ching*

Ever been Drunk: under 21 here, hello!

Ever been called a Tease: No, but I have been called a dirty, dirty whore.

Ever been Beaten up: I’m not supposed to tell anyone. Er, uh, I fell down the stairs.

Ever Shoplifted: who do I look like? Superman? I’d need one helluva adrenaline rush to have the strength to lift an entire store.

How do you want to Die: trapped in a deep, dark well

What do you want to be when you Grow Up: older

What country would you most like to Visit: Andora

In a Boy/Girl..

Favorite Eye Color: I’m heterosexual

Favorite Hair Color: Jewish

Short or Long Hair: yes

Height: midgy

Weight: kilograms

Best Clothing Style: MC Hammer

Type of Guy: someone who’s not afraid of commitment, someone who dresses like MC Hammer

What turns you on: sad clowns

Number of Drugs I have taken: love and marriage, love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage.

Number of CDs I own: I can only assume CD stands for Caramel Delight, which is a delicious flavor of Girl Scout Cookie. I don’t currently own any, but come cookie season, I hope to own maybe two boxes.

Number of Piercings: I have a giant piercing right through my soul, and every time someone in the world dies of AIDS, it tingles.

Number of Tattoos: I just have one. It’s on my lower back. It is the likeness of that Russian lesbian pop group Tatu. They’re totally makin out on my back.

Number of things in my Past I Regret: everything, my entire past, I regret it all.

what one won't do for $120

I knew others would want to read about the outrageous things that occur at my NYC magazine internship, (b/c they are quite entertaining) but now people at work read this, and my blog has been accessed via the office modem many a time, and thus, I feel forced to zip it.

I will say this, however. There is a fine line between internship and ridiculous farce. After the events of yesterday, my work experience has bypassed the line and traveled far, far, far over into the realm of one side. I’ll give you a hint: it’s not the “internship” side.

If I can’t talk about crazy office shenanigans, there’s always my trashy NJ roommate, right? Right? Wrong. We’ve actually become great friends, smashing friends. I have nothing bad to say about her and I’m going to miss her. Roommates that saki bomb together are friends 4 life. (and last night we met some former members of the Palestinian army, and they were nice enough, but they wouldn't stop talking in Hebrew which really pissed of friend-mate.)

Where’s the scandal? Where’s the intrigue? Uh, multiple people have encouraged me to take “Teddy Scares” back home to Indiana with me. But I don’t want that ugly thing that everyone in the office has molested. It probably has a sexually transmitted infection.

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

I'm a romantic

Here's some roommate banter:

Liz: "The man you're going to marry is out there somewhere right now, doing something. Do you ever think about that? Don't you wonder what he's doing? He could be watching TV or mowing the lawn."
Me: "He's probably shooting up."
Liz: "Probably."

Monday, August 01, 2005

The top 10 things I will miss about New York

This is my last week in the "big apple" and there are just a few things that will always have a special place in my heart.

10. scaffolding

9. “ethnics”

8. celebrity sitings

7. The Royal Sari House

6. breakfast at Tiffany’s

5. gratuitous honking

4. gratuitous bubbles

3. boots

2. the arch

1. this guy

Sunday, July 31, 2005

chicken pot pot pie

They say nothing in life is free. I don’t know who “they” are, but they’re right. Saturday night I was treated to a free dinner and drinks at Caroline’s. Food was “free,” but the price I paid was having to endure the stand-up comedy of Pauly Shore.

My friends seemed to expect a good show, but they’re ignorant to the world of comedy. They were appalled when Pauly came on stage inebriated and even more stunned when he just wasn’t funny. Frantically they whispered, “Why isn’t he funny?” They decided to blame it on the booze, but I think we all know better. I would say on a scale of 1 to 10, it sucked.

I agreed to go because A) free food and B) I knew the opener would be funny because if you don’t have a name, you have to have real talent.