cardboard.box

help

2005-10-12T04:12:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone out there in Internet Land! Who wants to write me a cover letter? It is one of my most hated of all tasks. Haaaaaate it. Obviously, I would be a valuable asset to any magazine, but why? This I must write in a letter, and that makes me sad.

amendment

2005-10-07T18:45:00.000-07:00

Alright, upon second consideration, I'd like to add a clause to my challenge, or rather, change it all together. To make the grocery challenge of my last post truly extreme, I had anticipated eating, on average, only one meal per day. But I noticed that I've been eating at least two, sometimes three times per day. I see no attempt on my part thus far to alter this pattern, nor do I foresee a change.

And so, my new challenge is to not buy groceries until all the food on my list is gone. And if that means eating instant grits for every meal-- so be it.

the grocery challenge

2005-10-05T02:13:00.000-07:00

I have taken inventory of every food item I have in the kitchen. For the sake of economy and efficiency, I want to see how long I can make it last. 4 weeks. Do you think I can do it? Here's the list:

-10 packets instant grits
-1 box mac & cheese
-1 can tuna
-1 can tomato soup
-1 can green beans
-2 cans mac nuts (sent by parents in mail- I would never buy)
-1 loaf bread
-1 bag mini carrots
-1/2 package bacon
-1 package shredded cheese
-10 eggs
-1/4 bag frozen hash browns
-4 toaster strudels
-22 clementines
-2 packages instant rice
-1.75 boxes angel hair pasta
-assorted teas, bottled water, vodka (I’m allowing myself to buy more bottled water if necessary.)

My goal is to make my current stock of food last for an entire month. Today is October 4th. I don’t want to go to the grocery store until Día de los Muertos (Nov 1). Well, I’m sure I’ll want to go to the grocery store, but that’s why it’s called a challenge. Note that I will be eating out at least once a week.

get on your bikes and ride

2005-10-04T19:04:00.000-07:00

me: "I'm trying to decide if I should take a nap or go running."
-music cue: *Queen's "Fat Bottom Girls" comes up on my random party shuffle playlist*
roommate: "Maybe it's a sign."

Oh, mommy

2005-09-25T12:25:00.000-07:00

I was talking to my mom on the phone and she suggested I start my own comedy troupe. I explained that in the realm of student comedy troupes 'round here, we already have a sketch group and an improv group and they're both very well received. It's a simple marketing principle, if you have nothing new/different to offer audiences, you're destined to fail. So my mom suggested I start a mime comedy troupe.

When I explained that everyone hates mimes, she said that's why it would be funny. I entertained that this mime principle could be funny for maybe one skit and then all amusement would hault quickly. She did not agree. Upon revisiting this idea, I'm realizing that there are talented mimes out there who can be quite funny, but these people have studied the "art" of mime extensively, something I haven't done and will never do.

This whole comedy thing is a bust.

nuts

2005-09-23T15:37:00.000-07:00

I got a package in the mail today. I guess I can't really complain about receiving care packages in the mail from Hawaii. My parents send me a lot of packages over the course of a year when I'm away at school and I'm sure shipping costs are substantial, but they ALWAYS, without fail, send me nuts. Every time they send me some form of nuts. Usually several different genres of nut. (chocolate covered, glazed, etc) I just always get a lot of nuts in the mail and I think that's a little weird, for me, a college student, to have a consistent source of nuts. That is all.

stand up

2005-09-22T16:08:00.000-07:00

I can honestly say that my Communications Law professor, in his lectures, has a funnier stand up routine than Pauly Shore.

one of life's great moments

2005-09-14T18:57:00.000-07:00

When a cashier hands you a sak-a-jew-weeeya dollar, thinking it's a quarter. Maybe that's a moral dilemma for some people, not me. Free money is somethng I take, ethics shmethics. The only reason I had the urge to point out the shiny gold Native American woman was to show said cashier how stupid he was, but I suppressed the urge.

I'll be seeing you

2005-09-10T16:57:00.000-07:00

I sense that someone who lives in the apartment directly above ours is a reincarnation of me in the 6th grade. They’re constantly blasting No Doubt’s ‘Tragic Kingdom.’ Sure, it’s arguably No Doubt’s best album but I’m not in the 6th grade and I’m extremely adept at picking out bass lines from a distance, so how about a little variety?

This afternoon, instead of doing homework, I decided to watch ‘The Notebook,’ because apparently I hate myself.

happy mardi gras

2005-09-09T15:11:00.000-07:00

At the newspaper’s weekly staff meeting this afternoon, we were being vastly inappropriate. Let’s just say I came home wearing Mardi Gras beads. Of course I firmly reprimanded the editor & chief for being so callous and endorsing “Katrina related prizes,” but there’s just something about those plastic beads, ya know? In spite of such sentiments as, "What's wrong with you?" and "You're a sick fuck;" we couldn’t help but play along. I am very much a fan of humor that, on the surface, crosses the line. (When in reality it’s mocking A) people who really do cross the line B) our high level of sensitivity and C) the line itself.) But is this too soon?

I feel like Katrina can be put into the same category as 9/11. Though different genres of tragedy (terrorism v. nature), they are comparable for the catastrophic loss of life (though Katrina obviously being greater) and the exposure of vast weaknesses in the world's most powerful nation. So what if people were cracking jokes a week or so after the towers collapsed? Well, perhaps people were?

There’s a fine “too soon” line that separates edgy satire and insensitivity. Things aren’t funny because they’re offensive, but offensive things are funny. Not long after The Challenger exploded, my dad happened to be cutting up an expired credit card, and he tossed the pieces onto the countertop and called it a reenactment. I guess we just need to laugh.

oh snap!

2005-09-08T18:50:00.000-07:00

I will admit that the term "Oh snap!" comes out of my mouth on a fairly regular basis, and it comes out when I'm talking to people who don't understand it, like my mom. I was talking to her on the phone last night and for some reason I said, "Oh snap!" She informed me that 'O Snap' is a function in auto cad, the drafting software she uses at work. You see, my mom is a super-smart electrical engineer, way smarter than I'll ever be. Sometimes I think my parents were disappointed to have birthed such a dumb child, wait-- dumb is not the right word. I believe 'exceedingly lazy' is the term I'm looking for. My smart, smart parents birthed a naturally intelligent child who happened to be inherently sloth and thus squanders her potential.

Speaking of which, I just updated my resume and took all food related jobs off. Maybe I should link it here in a pdf. Would you hire me? Of last year's graduating class from IU's School of Journalism (one of the top journalism schools in the nation) only 4 graduates have found jobs so far. I'm doomed--- DOOMED!

Right now I find myself with some free time on my hands for the first time in two weeks. I think I'll go spike my blood sugar, watch The Simpsons and take a nap. This is the first weekday since I've returned to Bloomington that I never once stepped into the newsroom. It's refreshing and yet... I feel a void. (which is unsettling.)

I like to stack things

2005-09-07T22:36:00.000-07:00

I thought I was impressive because about a year ago I had one of my photos published on the back cover of an arts magazine (and another photo published inside) but the other day I noticed many copies of the magazine, that exact issue, in a trash can. Depressing.

Here is my amazing Pepsi tower:

When I was a freshman in college, I would stack up Pepsi cans in my dorm room. In my absence someone told my roommate that it was “really cool” that I stacked pop cans. She thought it was some sort of anti-alcohol statement because I wasn’t stacking beer cans.

Then just last week our landlord came over and when I asked her if there was a recycling service (for all my cans) she noted that I was the only tenant who had asked that question and that I was very admirable for doing so.

People imply that I’m such a noble person, but in all honesty, I just like to stack things.

uhh...

2005-09-05T11:56:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else find this email from my step mother a little amusing, or at the very least- just a little off? Maybe it's just me...

Hi Joanna,
Thanks for your info. I'm glad that your classes are going well. Is this your Spanish conversation/composition class? I really enjoyed mine.

I'm devastated by the news and pictures of the hurricane victims. I had nightmares last night and I cannot watch any more. I think they'll find tens of thousands of people in their homes who could not get onto their roofs or out, mostly elderly and ill.

I hope you have a good holiday!

Love,
Sue

well balanced news, er diet

2005-09-04T22:46:00.000-07:00

My dinner, which lasted from 3pm – 8pm consisted of: onion rings (with special zesty onion ring sauce), 2 bags of peanut M&Ms (hey, the first one I tried to buy got stuck in the vending machine, so I had to buy two), “Jell-O cake” (whatever that is, but it was good), and a can of cherry coke. MMmm, the diet of a journalist.

Right now I’m in the newsroom and we’re busy coming up with hilarious headlines for Monday’s Rehnquist news. (ie “verdict is in: cancer wins” “God rules: Rehnquist dead” etc)

roommate banter, ch. II

2005-09-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

sometimes the best instant messenger conversations come from using the computer to talk to those within earshot.

joWanna03: baby jesus is crying!
schkara e: oh no, why?
joWanna03: something you did, i'm sure!
schkara e: jesus loves me
schkara e: this i know
joWanna03: who told you? the bible?! please
joWanna03: baby jesus CRIES
schkara e: no no, the song told me!
joWanna03: you know who wrote that song?
joWanna03: the jews!
joWanna03: to trick you!
schkara e: whatever, hitler
schkara e: he loves me!
joWanna03: jesus loves you like a fat kid loves hitler

I was duped

2005-09-01T09:31:00.000-07:00

"Do what you enjoy," they said. "Follow your dreams," they said. Following your dreams and doing what you enjoy is a complete and utter scam, perhaps perpetuated by those seeking to thin out the pool of qualified applicants to increase their odds in the job market.

oh no!

2005-08-31T19:32:00.000-07:00

Readerhsip on my blog is down! What do I do? Well, the obvious answer is... naked picture time!

It's not that my life is any less interesting since my return to Indiana. It's been heaps and loads of interesting, just not from a blog standpoint? I got nothin. I've been drinking Pepsi like water, which is bad. With my newfound power at the newspaper, I was able to have a column about instant mashed potatoes published and no one questioned me about it. It's 7:32pm and I kind of feel like going to sleep. And, I've been eating a lot of low fat, nutrigrain waffles. Here's a picture.

Wait a minute, Mr. Postman!

2005-08-29T22:24:00.000-07:00

When does my scholarship check come in the mail? I need to buy drugs and alcohol.

midwestern manners

2005-08-29T01:26:00.000-07:00

Today I had to hand out free newspapers on campus. I was expecting it to be miserable. I expected students to be like, "Get out of my way, I'm late for class." I expected it to be worse than handing out free magazines in NYC because I wasn't forcing free things upon random strangers, but rather, degrading myself among my peer circle.

Actually it was delightful. Every single person I offered a paper to was pleasant and polite. The sweet melody of cheerful "No Thank you's" flowed through the air if the newspaper was rejected. (Ok, there was one girl who looked at the paper in disgust and said, "I don't think I want THAT." But she probably didn't know how to read.) Plus, I didn't have to hand out hundreds and hundreds, just 75 split between 3 people.

Not surprisingly, I was very skilled in getting a free publication off my hands-- handed out 25 papers in about 3 minutes and went back to take the burden off my fellow hander-outers.

It feels so strange to work for a publication that pays me, gives me valuable experience and doesn't have riduculously high handing-out-free-stuff expectations. (and if we reach our goal of handing out 5,000 papers, we get free pizza.)

I was about to say "BUT, it's not in NYC." However, I've recently realized that Bloomington, IN is a lot more like NYC than I thought. There are hoards of people walking everywhere. (excpet they're all going to class.) And there are a lot of really random weird people... and bums. For example, the other day I saw this random dude playing Bagpipes along Kirkwood Ave.

the communication age

2005-08-27T01:13:00.000-07:00

Once again, I’d just like to reiterate that “Toastios” look a lot like Cheerios, but they sure as hell don’t taste like ‘em. And that’s the truth.

More importantly, I’d like to express a genuine concern. For years, the “drunk dial” to me, was one of life’s great mysteries. Why did alcohol create a motivation for communication of a cellular nature? I never understood it. While under the influence, I certainly never felt any of these dialing urges bubbling up within myself … until recently. I fear I’m becoming the drunk dialer I used to mock.

I’ve started trying to play it off as just a normal phone call, but that just doesn’t work. The reason I tend to regret these drunk dials is because oft times, it feels like the person on the other end is being patronizing, when really, they’re just being sober.

But then I realize that in a state of inebriation, I have the same level of legal contractual capacity as children and the mentally ill, both of which are in the heavily talked-down-to sector of the population. So maybe I have a right to receive that patronizing treatment. But you know what, maybe no one should be talking down to anyone. This is my plea to the sober and the world at large: Put away your condescension trucker hat and slip on the beret of equality and understanding.

I think I’ve made my point.

insomnia

2005-08-26T07:24:00.000-07:00

So, Florida. Hurricanes just keep smacking into that peninsula. Whassup wit dat?

In an attempt to be as frugal as possible, I've learned that generic cheerios are not my cup of tea. Toastios-- not so great.

I procured melmac dishes from my grandma's house for our new apartment. For those who don't know, melmac is a plastic-like substance that predates microwaves. Roommate Kara says the substance is known to crack in the microwave and leak formaldehyde. details.

[edit] clarification: After reading that last paragraph, it sounds like my grandma and I are moving into a new apartment. As much as I'd like to start a new reality show entitled "Grandma goes to College!" (I'm sure it would trump Tommy Lee) I live with Kara, not Grandma.
As an editor, I tend to make wretched grammar and spelling mistakes on a regular basis.

and now we play the waiting game

2005-08-24T16:27:00.000-07:00

I’ve learned an important lesson. Clicking the refresh button on your web browser won't will email into your inbox, no matter how badly you want it to, which is disheartening. I’m about to crack.

PS - the waiting game sucks, let's play hungry, hungry hippos.

(Yes, I ripped off The Simpsons. The daily news is sucking the creativity [life] out of me. But come this weekend, when my co-editor finally gets here, it should be relatively smooth sailing from then on.)

oh god

2005-08-23T20:16:00.000-07:00

I've been in the newsroom for over 7 straight hours. My soul is crumbling away as I listen to the police scanner. Yippee!

bang! there goes the news

2005-08-22T21:50:00.000-07:00

Before I say anything else, I’d just like to acknowledge how much I’m enjoying Colin’s cable TV. I didn’t realize how much I missed shows like Celebrity Fit Club. When I lived at home, my mom cut down to basic cable, so all I really watched was C-Span and Passions. I should enjoy my whiney celebrities while I can, because come tomorrow, when I actually move into my apartment, ain’t gonna be no mo’ TV. [me & roomie is too cheap for that shit. (expect me to be crashing your pad to watch the Daily Show, etc.)]

Also, the world of the daily news is newstastic. Being an editor at a large student newspaper is quite a change from being an intern at a small, nonexistent magazine. I’m still incompetent and have no experience, but the biggest change is that I’m real real real busy and I have less time for rubber band fights. I’m not sure if my current headache is from stress or a lack of caffeine, but I assure you, this whole not being a deadbeat thing will be a monumental change for me.

pottery is fun

2005-08-21T22:22:00.000-07:00

I was forced by my mother (who happens to be a potter) to aid in vending her pottery at a pottery market the other day. Upon arrival I discovered that there wasn't much helping to be done, I was just being exploited.

"I wanted your pretty face to be here to sell more pottery," said my mom.

My pretty face couldn't even get people to take free magazines, how is it going to get midwestern women to purchase ceramic bowls? Think about it.

I noticed my mom had a very tiny bowl and I wondered at its purpose. I returned from a lunch break to discover that someone actually bought the teeny tiny bowl. I demaned to know what kind of creature would buy a teeny tiny ceramic bowl. I got my answer: a man who owns a shadow box just for tiny pottery. (such people exist.)

Today I made the move back to Bloomington, IN. I just ate microwavable macaroni & cheese with my fingers. Ah, college life.

Indiana Hot-iversity

2005-08-19T17:05:00.000-07:00

It’s kind of nice to be in the midwest again where people aren’t so pretentious about the names of their drinking games. “Wait.. what?” You’re asking. Well, on my last night in nyc, a bunch of us chilluns got together to play one of my favorite past times—flippy cup. My roommate asked what I had been up to.
“You call it flippy cup?!” she asked, sounding disgusted that I could be so unrefined. Apparently “Flip cup” is the more sophisticated name, but, how sophisticated can you really be when naming a game where you race to chug beer from a plastic cup and try to flip it?

I admit, I do sometimes refer to my college as “Dumb-Dumb University” because it’s not a prestigious private school and well, let’s face it, a lot of dumb kids go there. But I’ve always understood that it’s actually a very good school, ranking nationally and globally in a lot of areas. (and generally just a nice place.) However, I was frustrated to realize that not a lot of people know that. When I was in nyc, I was surprised to find myself defending it because people just assumed it was a run-of-the-mill retard school. But IU, it’s not just any retard school, it’s the hottest, according to Newsweek.

HOTTEST BIG STATE SCHOOL
Indiana University, Bloomington, Ind.
Much of the charm of life among the Hoosiers springs from tradition, like the Little 500 bicycle races and weekend partying dramatized in the 1979 film "Breaking Away." But what stokes increasing interest in Indiana from out-of-staters, who make up a third of freshmen, is IU's embrace of the Information Age. Intel ranked it first among U.S. universities for wireless connectivity. It doesn't hurt that IU provides vast choices: 328 degree programs and 130 majors for 30,000 undergraduates.

(take that, bitches)

I'm a tool

2005-08-18T14:37:00.000-07:00

Requirements for my future husband:

-must have a fortune of 10,000 lbs
-must be reserved, overtly proud and maybe a little prejudiced
-must be handsome
-must be in love with me regardless of my family’s low social standing
-must be named Fitzwilliam

(what? I'm really excited about the new movie coming out. I just read the book again.)

8 hour plane rides are cool

2005-08-16T01:46:00.000-07:00

Before I exit island #2 of the summer, I leave you with just one question:

Why are extremely high powered LASER pointers so entertaining??

say hello to X-TREME

2005-08-14T11:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I had an x-treme, hardcore, badass board riding accident. The ocean totally kicked my ass. Granted, the board was of the ‘boogie’ variety, and thus, this will make me sound lame, but boogie boarding takes some mad skills. I’m not kidding. If you jump on your board too late you can miss a sweet wave, but if you jump on too early, you’ll be coughing up sand for days.

Here is a graphical representation of what happened to me. (drawn by yours truly)

Frame three chronicles the faceplant. It felt like someone punched me in the face, but really, the wave punched my face into the sand. On the upside, I discovered an alternative to collagen injections. (fat lips are sexy, am I right?)

I like to look on the bright side. My nose is *probably* not broken and my spine only hurts a little bit. Hooray!

Nazis like ice cream

2005-08-13T10:37:00.000-07:00

I had a dream last night that I was in the US military during WWII. My battallion had to infiltrate the German army. To do so, we dressed in German uniforms that we somehow procured, probably from Germans we had killed. What did these uniforms consist of? Fez's with swastikas on them. That was about it.
We put on the little hats that looked like this: (thanks, Photoshop)

Where were the German soldiers when we slipped into their ranks? An ice cream shop. We were obviously American soldiers, but when you put on the swastika fez, they can't tell the difference. Their commander even bought us ice cream cones.
but was it Häagen-Dazs? That's the Q.

Oh damn it. Häagen-Dazs started in America.

I've got a lovely bunch of coconuts

2005-08-11T17:24:00.000-07:00

Today I’m going to address the pressing issue of trombones. Do you know what it sounds like when a 47 year old woman blows on a trombone mouthpiece? Well, it’s a lot quieter than when she blows on the whole damn instrument. The dog whines either way. (does that sound like sexual innuendo OR WHAT? I promise it's not.)

Disney ran a short-lived sitcom entitled Even Stevens. The main character, Louis Stevens, once said, “Trombones hurt in a way you’ll never understand.” I took that to heart. While Louis was referring to falling into an orchestra pit, I am referring to living in a family of trombone players. My dad married a professional trombonist. (why, daddy, why?) She gave birth to a baby trombonist, who, while in his early stages of learning the trombone (perhaps its most beautiful stages) would rise at 6am to blat out its sweet melodies.

Just now, the trombone playing (er, warming up) stopped and my step mom said, “Whoa! Joanna you have got to come see this.”

Then I hear my dad’s voice, “Joanna, do you have your camera?”

And my dad walked into the house with these.

Melekalikimaka

2005-08-10T17:16:00.000-07:00

I just sneezed all over my computer screen. Just thought you should know. My 8.5 hr plane ride aboard the Boeing 777 was awesome. There were multiple crying babies in the cabin, but I said bring it on mothafuckas! I had a whole row of five seats to myself. So you can bet your bippy I tried to take up all of them, but I'm only 5'2.

Things I anticipate seeing in the next few days: molten lava, gecko poop. I'll let you know if I see anything else.

For anyone who doesn't know, two of my parents and my puppy live in Hawaii. Don't try to make sense of it. I still don't quite understand it myself.

Right now two geckos are fighting each other to the death on the wall in the other room. My dog is furry.

Aloha

2005-08-09T22:56:00.000-07:00

Would you travel over 4,000 miles to see this face?

Well, I am. I feel kind of like an idiot for randomly going to Hawaii, but hey. Why do I do it? Because I can.

PS - Today I was in the car and Britney Spears' "Toxic" came on the radio WHILE I was stuck behind a semi carrying hazardous chemicals. It was awesome!

Let's talk about sex baby

2005-08-08T17:24:00.000-07:00

There is currently one registered sex offender living down the street from me. (in my quaint Indiana neighborhood) Two accounts of child molestation. That's ok though, I just looked up my NY zip code and there were 32 registered sex offenders living in the area.

I was mowing the lawn today, listening to Lindsay Lohan on my ipod and I smiled and waved at the woman next door, who is wanted for dealing cocaine within 100 ft of a school. (she fled from police about a year ago and abandoned her house, but she came back to get some stuff. She acts weird whenever there are police sirens.)

I am a dreamer.

2005-08-05T23:54:00.000-07:00

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?

2005-08-05T01:27:00.000-07:00

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)

I'm sorry

2005-08-04T16:00:00.000-07:00

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

2005-08-04T12:00:00.000-07:00

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.

I'm a romantic

2005-08-02T22:26:00.000-07:00

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."

The top 10 things I will miss about New York

2005-08-01T01:05:00.000-07:00

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

chicken pot pot pie

2005-07-31T14:24:00.000-07:00

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.

I love Bobby the Bartender

2005-07-30T11:59:00.000-07:00

Roommate quote of the day: “Jake smells really good, but he has man boobs I think.”

For the past month my roommate has been guilt tripping me because I owe her two drinks. She makes me look like such a cheap bastard, but I offered to pay for my own drinks at the time. She just prefers to buy me drinks and nag me about it later. I’ve offered to pay her back, pay her cab fare, etc, but she sternly says, “I’d prefer the drinks.”

So last night I finally had to anti-up. As soon as we got to the bar, she insisted that we go to the terrace immediately. “But it's so expensive up there!” I whined. She didn’t care. So I asked Roomie what she wanted and pushed my way to the bar to buy her damned vodka tonic. As soon as I made eye contact with the bartender, I knew he recognized me. I quickly grabbed my roommate to tell her the good news: “Bobby the Bartender is here!!!”

Bobby the Bartender always gives us free drinks all night long. Muahahahaha. (that was supposed to be maniacal laughter... because I weaseled my way out of buying drinks again, get it?)

“My nice girls are here!” Bobby exclaimed.
“Bobby, you’re my favorite,” said Roomie.
“Bobby, you’re my hero,” said I.

Bobby squirted the seltzer hose thing to indicate his tears of joy.

The first time we went to this bar, we ordered drinks from Bobby and for some reason he decided we were “the nice girls.” Hey, I’m not going to question it.

apples to oranges

2005-07-28T20:31:00.000-07:00

Today at work I IM-ed my step brother. He’s interning at Google right now. I asked what he was doing and he said “I’m working on their internal project tracking database.” I said, “Oh, I’m… throwing a teddy bear around the office.” Which really is the only thing I recall doing at work today.

Ok, to be completely accurate it was a “Teddy Scares,” but that’s not relevant.

Scientologists think I'm an alchy

2005-07-27T22:29:00.000-07:00

Today I was in the Times Square subway station and I tested the limits of the subway car doors. The platform was so flooded with people that as soon as I pushed my way up to the train, the doors started closing right in front of my face. Now, I thought these doors were designed like elevator doors. If a person sticks an appendage in between them, they’ll just bounce back open. So I stuck my leg out thinking I was getting on the train. Boy was I wrong. Oh no. The doors close right on your leg and all you can do is hope to pry it free before the train starts up. The mighty subway has spoken.

While I was in the station I saw people offering a “free stress test.” I knew they were selling something, but I thought I would humor them for my own amusement. They were in fact selling … dun dun dun … Scientology.

A young woman yelled at me to take the stress test, but when I agreed, no one was ready to test me, so I had to wait. I told her the waiting was stressing me out. She was not amused. She shoved this book in my face and I knew I was in for a treat.

Everyone kept asking me what I’d heard about Dianetics. I told them I knew it was a part of Scientology. They asked what I’d heard about Scientology. The only thing that came to mind was “Tom Cruise is a Scientologist and he seems like a real nut job.” So I just said, “Oh, I haven’t heard much.”

After my wait, I sat down with George the Scientologist for my incredibly bogus stress test. It turns out, if I could just eliminate my reactive mind, I wouldn’t have any stress at all! And how do I eliminate the reactive mind? Dianetics of course. George really wanted me to make a donation to buy ol’ L. Ron’s book. I said I was too busy to read it right now but that I would check it out later (and I was half serious, I may read it sometime.) And that’s when he called me an alcoholic.

I was only trying to come up with a polite excuse for not buying the book. But George the Scientologist doesn’t like it when I “try to party away all my problems.”

The Daily Show rocked my face off

2005-07-26T20:56:00.000-07:00

Today I saw a live taping of The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. I’m still in awe. I beat some dudes at gin while I was waiting in line. I don’t really have much else to say about it except, this is perhaps the crankiest man in the world:

He was the first person to open up the studio doors and he sure does seem to hate the human race.
I wish the guest had been cooler than Diane Lane, because I’d never even heard of her.
I wish I had gone up and sat in Stewart’s chair for a picture, but I didn’t have the balls.

Any questions?

Secrets of how to see the Daily Show
(it seemed too easy, in fact.) Call the cancellation ticket request line at 11am the Friday before you want to see the show. (phone no. is on Comedy Central’s web site.) If they respond, you’re golden. Get to the studio by 2pm the day of the show and you’ll be the first in line. (well, I got their at 1pm, but that was insane, I did however get free water from a security dude for being early. [and adorable]) You stand in the general ticket line. They’ll let the VIPs in first, then you’re next. They let me in ahead of the people who had requested tickets months in advance. Maybe it was because I was the very first in line and made nice with the staff and interns, but hey. That’s how it’s done.

Take note: the cranky man does not want to answer your questions.

taco

2005-07-24T20:17:00.000-07:00

To confuse new yorkers, I like to wear a shirt that says "I (heart) IU" rather than "I (heart) NY." IU = Indiana University. Today I confused this woman:

Her name is Wilma. She works at the Taco Bell/Pizza Hut on 14th between University and 5th ave. It is her summer job. She goes to community college. She is my new friend. She speaks the Spanish.

my digital camera presents:

2005-07-24T14:55:00.000-07:00

An act of passive aggression from one of my roommates.

intern magazine

2005-07-23T18:14:00.000-07:00

Since the "magazine" where I intern has a surplus of overqualified interns with nothing to do, we decided to start our own magazine.

Here's a sample of what's inside:
Page 1
Page 2
Page 3

I'll admit, there's no table of contents, no page numbers or folio or anything, but what can I say? I'm a lazy mothafucka. (in fact, one of my suitemates said I was the laziest person in the world just because I took a 6 hour nap. bitch.) and... as a staff, we put our content together over a period of maybe 15 - 20 minutes.

But the main flaw of this magazine is that it lacks the most important thing every magazine should have: a demographic. The only people who might want to read this would be the other people who work in the office, but that's only a slight maybe at best.

sleepy sleepy baby

2005-07-22T09:00:00.000-07:00

I’m experiencing inner turmoil right now. You see, my roommate was supposed to be at work half an hour ago, but she’s in bed asleep. I don’t have to be at work for another two hours. Why am I awake you ask? Well, at 6 am, my roommate came home quite plastered. Her arrival probably would’ve woken me anyway, but she purposefully woke me up to tell me that I’m a beautiful girl who has a lot to offer the world.

I was slowly drifting back to sleep as she repeatedly mumbled to her friend that I’m “a beautiful girl who has a lot to offer the world.” Then she said, “here, eat some cheez-its” and I refused. She then gave me the sad drunken puppy look, so I ate one cheez it. Then she passed out, and I couldn’t fall back asleep to save my life.

Her alarm blared at 7 am but it did not rouse her. I said, “Liz, your alarm is going off,” and she said “OK” but did not move. I woke her up several times and asked, “Do you have work today?” She sleepily nodded yes and fell back asleep.

This is when the turmoil started. On the one hand, a decent human being would make sure their roommate didn’t sleep through work, but on the other hand, wouldn’t it be hilarious if my roommate slept through work?

On the one hand, she’s the star intern at her sector of Merill Lynch and it’s so excellent to see the mighty fall. But on the other hand, what would Jesus do?

On the one hand, it’s not my responsibility to mother her drunken ass, but on the other hand, I sort of like her.

I think we all know what Jesus would do.

But I didn’t do it. She just now ran out the door, an hour late for work, looking like hell.

the rest of the story
Last night I encountered my first diligent bouncer. It seems all the other bouncers in new york will look at an ID that is obviously expired and obviously not mine and let me in anyway. At this bar however, they actually measured me, discovered I am not 5’8 and sent me packing as my cohorts (aka roommate and friend) went on without me. (But I gave them my blessing, because I’m no wet blanket) Despite my desperate drunken phone pleas (where are you?! I’m so alone!) to my small bank of ny friends, I ended up just going home. It is my trademark to boycott taxi cabs and walk long distances by myself like an idiot, but even in a state of inebriation I knew 40 blocks wasn’t gonna cut it. So I sucked it up and did the taxi thing. Damn taxis, always driving people everywhere, the nerve.

jacktards

2005-07-21T19:58:00.000-07:00

I have an excessive number of NYU “declining dollars” to spend. And Starbucks takes them. And I mean a real Starbucks, not one of those lame, fake Starbucks where the employees don’t even know the difference between a latte and a cappuccino. (imbeciles!)

I could take any of you jacktard friends of mine to Starbucks and buy you anything you want. Anything! Have you ever wanted to go buck wild at Starbucks? This is your chance. You could get a grande iced caramel machiatto and a venti java chip frapuccino and hell, even a biscotti and one of those fancy coffee mugs. But maybe you’re all just too school for cool. I guess staying in Indiana is fun, if you’re a jacktard.*

*I just wanted the opportunity to combine the word “retard” with “jackass.” Mission accomplished.

talk about bad marketing

2005-07-20T22:22:00.000-07:00

Dear young men selling m&m’s on the street to help raise money for your ‘basketball team,’

I’m not buying your m&m’s, not even if I wanted m&m’s. I don’t like making transactions on the sidewalk.

Second of all, if you grab my arm and demand that I take off my headphones, not only will I not be buying your m&m’s, I’ll be reaching for my pepper spray. If you really need money for a legit youth sports team, do what any smart team does. Get a strip club to sponsor you.

Love, Joanna

(I don’t actually carry pepper spray, but aggressive m&m vendors make me wish I did.. or maybe a hand gun.)

nice boxers?

2005-07-20T01:12:00.000-07:00

A drunk guy just walked into my bedroom and took off his pants. He then introduced himself and shook my hand. (and I said, "nice to meet you," because I am cordial.)

He is my roommate’s ex boyfriend. I trust this can only get more amusing.

They’re in the living room right now and I hear dialogue such as: “I don’t know what to tell you. That’s a huge tattoo.”

Roomie occasionally comes back into the bedroom, frantically mouthing the words, “What the fuck! What do I do?” But all I can do is chuckle. (and shrug) If anyone should be asking, “What the fuck?” I think it's me. Though, I did already make the appropriate “wtf?” hand gesture/facial expression as said ex was taking off his pants.

Also, is it just me or has the moon been acting weird lately? Not just sort of weird, but really weird, like, the earth is about to be destroyed kind of weird.

I’ll keep you posted.

locking your door isn't trendy or cool

2005-07-18T18:26:00.000-07:00

Checking my email is quite a blow to the self esteem. I received an email today with the subject heading "Weight loss for idiots." They're not just calling me fat, oh no, they're calling me a fat idiot. Add that to my mortgage rate sucking and my penis being too small and I start wonder, do I have any reason to live? Thanks a lot, email.

Now I'm going to try to get inside the head of one of my roommates so I can maybe understand her actions. She never ever locks the door. In fact, she leaves the door visibly open and gets irritated when I close it. On multiple occasions I have been woken up in the morning by strange men entering my bedroom, wondering A) if now was a good time for the exterminator to come in and B) why on earth was the door open?
So perhaps she is thinking:
"Taking a key with me is such an incredible hassle, to save myself the trouble, why not just leave the door standing open so anyone, at any time, can just walk right into my apartment and steal my shit and rape/kill my roommates? I am brilliant!"

Wow, that’s two posts in a row where I’ve used the word “penis.” What is up with that? Enjoy it while it lasts.

grand theft uh oh

2005-07-15T17:45:00.000-07:00

Isn't this a funny headline?

Clinton seeks video game sex scene probe

Furthermore, doesn't that sound dirty?

It's an article on cnn.com about how Hilary is against the simulated sex in a version of "Grand Theft Auto: San Andres."

Now, I'm not really what you would call "a person who plays video games." Some might say that's because I don't have a "penis," but whatever. Grand Theft Auto is one of the few games I've actually played. It's been a few years, but as I recall, I just looked up the cheat codes online and cruised around the city in a golf cart hacking people to bits with a chainsaw. It's not like it's the Teletubbies giving you simulated sex here, it's an extremely violent video game. I'm pretty liberal in most arenas, but when politicians are suggesting legislation regarding video games, I'm thinking, certainly you have more important things to worry about, right?

Hang on, let's all take a moment to imagine a world where the Teletubbies give you simulated sex.

step off, muppet man

2005-07-15T02:48:00.000-07:00

I was in a state of perpetual elation as soon as I purchased my ticket (online, 12 hrs in advance) for the 12:01am showing of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. (a movie I’ve been anticipating for three long years.) I arrived at the theatre an hour early to ensure prime seating and what happens? A large man with muppet-like hair sits right in front of me. (when there are plenty of other open seats available.)

Movie-going tip of the day
What to do if a large man with muppet-like hair sits right in front of you:
-If a large man with muppet-like hair sits right in front of you at the theatre, start a boisterous discussion with your friends about using a Twizzler to snort crushed up Adderall. Muppet hair man will move to a new seat.

Just as an aside: having a good chuckle at someone else’s expense is truly one of life’s simple treasures. And so is eating your roommate’s ice cream when she’s out of town.

"Our little vixen didn't show up"

2005-07-13T21:19:00.000-07:00

Well, news of the day: the "hot" intern is not coming back. She decided to call it quits after one day. Trust me, it wasn't because you could cut the sexual tension with a knife. It wasn't like that at all. I think it was more the lack of professionalism. For example, a good portion of today was spent playing rolly chair tug-of-war.

Later, my roommate gave me her daily, "I'm fat" speech.
(which obviously she isn't. For some reason that's just something girls say a lot.) So after my obligatory, "You're not fat" speech, she suggested we go to the grocery store to buy ice cream. Makes perfect sense, right?

tidbit #1: there exists a flavor of Ben &Jerry's called 'Dave Matthews Band Magic Brownies.’
tidbit #2: I purchased said flavor. and... I wouldn't recommend it. Always read the ice cream description very carefully before purchasing. You see, in spite of the fact that this flavor is called "magic brownies" the ice cream is vanilla rather than chocolate. Even worse, it contains absolutely no THC. False advertising, Ben & Jerry's. Looks like my dopamine levels will be stagnant tonight.

why there is cheese on my wall

2005-07-12T23:28:00.000-07:00

Coming to new york has been an introspective journey. I've learned so much I didn't know about myself. Like, if there's a guy handing out free stuff** on the street, and he's wearing a banana suit, I'll take whatever he's giving. It could be smallpox samples—I don’t care. He's wearing a banana suit for god's sake! How cool is that?

**Oh wow, I crumpled banana man’s flyer and stuffed it in my bag, but upon reexamining it, I see it’s a coupon for a FREE 10 oz “Brain Pep Shake.” (Which sounds about as good as a smallpox sample.) But hey, it’s got ginko baloba AND antioxidants, so I can’t go wrong. To redeem or not to redeem?

Right now my roommate is giving me the letters of scrambled words and having me unscramble them, because it helps her sleep. Just prior she threw a container of cream cheese at my wall in a fit of anger and now there are white globs stuck right above my bed. (What? The lights were out and I thought it would be funny to hand her a snack-sized container of cream cheese instead of the lip gloss she asked for. Who knew she’d chuck it at the wall?)

testing office boundaries the slumber party way

2005-07-11T22:22:00.000-07:00

I took a carton of milk to work with me. As soon as I got into the office, I sat at my desk and poured myself a bowl of cereal. I was still in my pajamas.

You’d think that at a 5th avenue Manhattan office for a national publication, there’d be at least some degree of professionalism. You’d think that, but my sweatpants wearing and milk carton chugging beg to differ.

Granted, I received a few comments regarding my super hot “just-rolled-out-of-bed” hairstyle, but you can’t win ‘em all.

Should I feel weird that the editor & chief slipped me a ten to run him an errand in the meat packing district? Aren’t interns supposed to do that kind of stuff anyway? At least now I don’t have to admit I’m an unpaid intern. That’s a good three cents per hour for the whole summer. Who’s a baller now?

In case you were wondering about the hot new intern’s first day, it actually lacked in inappropriate remarks, except for when the president came into the office and upon being introduced the first and only thing he said to her was, “You look… tan."

looking for interns with fair - excellent teeth

2005-07-10T21:22:00.000-07:00

Here’s the deal: I’m an intern in new york city at a comedy magazine that seems like it’s on its way down the drain. The majority of my time at work last week was spent flinging rubber bands across the office. The company president came in on Friday and then we really got down to business… flinging more rubber bands across the office.

Sadly, I will no longer be the hottest intern. But that’s for the best. All anyone can talk about is what a “looker” the new intern is or how perfect her teeth are. She was described by one of my superiors as “the kind of girl I’d like to have sex with and then never see again.”

Monday is her first day. That should be interesting considering almost everyone in the office wants to hit that. I’ll let you know how it goes.

coming to terms with mortality [kiss-my-grits-style]

2005-07-10T21:21:00.000-07:00

My suitemate’s fear of death is really irritating. I don’t want to hear anymore whiney phone conversations with such cliché lamentations as, “I don’t wanna die!” or the ever popular, “I’m too young to die!” Please.

It was a little funny when she stammered and called NY the biggest ‘terrorist attack place’ ever. Forget ‘the empire state,’ we’ve got a new slogan.

We were all a little antsy riding the subway the day of the London bombing, but as an average citizen, worrying about a terrorist attack does less good than worrying about elephants escaping the zoo and stampeding your house.

I know what you’re thinking. I’m just bitter because when I came to NY, I thought I would get to be the resident hick, being from Indiana and all. But the fearful suitemate is from Oklahoma. I can ride my tractor and chew on straw all I want. Doesn’t matter. She has me beaten, ten fold. Yeehaw.

the lessons I've learned from new york bar culture

2005-07-10T21:19:00.000-07:00

Avoid hooking up with:
-way older business men
-your friend’s brother
-guys named ‘Ace’

my roommate is a hater

2005-07-10T21:17:00.000-07:00

Is it a bad sign if my roommate blurts out, “Holy shit, I will kill you!”?

She’s from New Jersey, maybe that’s normal there. She was just hatin’ because I was singing the intro from the Stroke’s “I Can’t Win” in the form of “ding ding ding da da ding ding ding ding” over and over. Who wouldn’t like that?
I always knew she was drinking the Hater-Aid, but is it possible she’s also added Hater-totts to her daily regimen of anger-based nutrients?

Ok, now she’s singing that one song, “If you want my body and you think I’m sexy come on, Sugar, let me know…” etc. So I say, we’re even.

beating a preppy dead horse

2005-07-10T11:28:00.000-07:00

Seeing one familiar face in nyc is weird enough, but an entire cluster of familiar faces is borderline surreal. Last night I was out with a group of people/alums from IU’s newspaper. It was great, but for a bar called Nevada Smiths, I sense they played a little too much destiny’s child.

Someone mentioned to me, “That guy over there in the red shirt was just checking you out, but he doesn’t have his collar popped.” He was kinda hot, but he was in fact wearing a polo shirt without the collar popped, so I was like- fuck him.

Looking back now, I’m thinking, “wait a minute, I blew off a hot guy who didn’t have his collar popped? Why did I do that?!” But A) I’d been drinking.

Dear hot guy in the red shirt,
If you’re reading this, I’m sorry I blew you off. I’m sure there are plenty of women out there who are willing to love you (or just randomly hookup) even with your collar down.
Love, Joanna

I think it’s sad that popped collars are still something you can make fun of after all this time. I also think it’s sad that the accepted term for this fashion faux paus is “popping.”

What if bouncers didn’t let people into bars or clubs if their collars were popped? I really wonder what the reaction would be. Would popped patrons just be belligerent or would they go someplace else or would some people actually put their collars down? Would it squelch the trend? One wonders.

And if you put your collar down and they find you again inside with your collar popped … oh my god, they throw you out onto the street.

Speaking of popping, I just want to take a moment to make fun of my roommate. Every single damn time the song “Drop It Like It’s Hot” comes on, she feels the need to change the lyrics to, “pop it like a squat.” She doesn’t just say it once though, ohhh no. Every time she says it. And she has to make sure I’m listening the entire time so I know just how clever she is. If this were six years ago, that might be remotely humorous, but no.