Filed under: Ha-Ha's | Tags: Brooklyn, class, craigslist, douchebags, fuck the world, grateful, lemonade, manchild, Park Slope, puppies, rent
I just found this ad on craigslist:
$550 Small Room in Great Location for Cheap w/ Dynamite Host Park Slope !!!
Goody. Let’s see what’s in store.
He’s a regular entrepreneur. He manages a restaurant and and dog-walking business. He must have had a popular lemonade stand as a child. And he claims to not be a reptile but he’s too lazy to upload pictures other than what he has on his dog walking website. That’s not all! He’s also “a musician, budding serial entrepreneur/inventor, wanna-be film director and writer…actor, writer, and aesthetic/renaiisance manchild who has recently broken up w/ his girlfriend of years( she lived here )…I now date frequently…”
If you’re impressed at this point, then I’m a baloney sandwich on wonder bread.
The lucky lady: “best candidate here, is a cool, young gal, clean, sharp, easy going, and ambitious… Please be bright, somewhat classy, reasonable, attractive, laid back, grateful…no guests allowed unless approved by me…sorry … you should speak pretty good english..did I mention no cigarettes and cats”
Grateful? I don’t get it. Grateful because the self-proclaimed renaissance manchild thought you were attractive and wanted to bone you? If only I wanted to be a submissive sex slave banned from having guests over lest he approves.
And finally, he loves to “give people in authority a hard time.”
Such a charmer.
Filed under: Prattstitutes, Tragedy | Tags: bills, Brooklyn, craigslist, Lease, Money, shitshows, Taaffe lofts
Things have been a little dull around here. But I’ve learned two things: a lease is meant to protect people, and it’s impossible to live with more than two other people. I’ve learned more than two things, but for the sake of fluidity, that’s how I’ll start out.
Filed under: Ha-Ha's | Tags: America, American Idol, cheddar, froyo, milk, processed cheese
Why do the American Idol contestants always look like processed cheese?
And why does this Froyo place have to be on 50th st?
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: A.R. Ammons, Amy Hempel, cigarettes, Grimaldis, Motherless Brooklyn, NY TIMES MAGAZINE, Tecate, The Brooklyn Bridge, white wine
Last night I went to a Melville House party in DUMBO with Gray and Scott. And I guess I wasn’t so much of an alien there since I’m officially interning for A Public Space now. The party itself was interns congregating around free snacks, Tecate beer and wine. Before we went to the party, Scott and I had pizza and beer and Grimaldi’s. We sat next to a couple that I could’ve sworn were from North Carolina or Vermont. When they got their pizza, the dude said “This place has made me such a pizza snob.” His bucket hat was what made me think it was his first time at Grimaldi’s since usually no one wants to wait in line for a pizza.
Later, when we walked out of the party, we went to the park and threw some rocks into the East River and took pictures with our cell phones. There was lots of styrofoam tucked in with the rocks. And there was a cool light show going on around the Brooklyn Bridge. Apparently, it’s the bridge’s 125th anniversary. Thank God, you’re alive, bridge.
As for the rest of life, I’ve been working at the library and reading poetry submissions for A Public Space. I’ve also been reading Amy Hempel’s Collected Stories, A.R. Ammons poetry, and Motherless Brooklyn. I’m trying to finish the Hempel book by tomorrow so I can give it to my mom when she comes to visit. Originally, it was her Christmas present, but I never got around to mailing it home to her.
Today is Thursday and after tomorrow, it will have been a week since I last smoked a cigarette. Although it’s not like inhaling second-hand smoke isn’t smoking. I don’t really know why I stopped. I just didn’t buy another pack when I ran out. I smoked like 6 cigarettes in a row on Friday last week and felt disgusting about it. I’d say that when I smoke too much, it’s because I’m doing it socially. When I’m having one a day, it’s because it’s something to do and I like the buzz. It’s cool how much less I’m dry-coughing and how much easier it is for me to walk somewhere or go to the gym without this weird (probably more so psychological strain) I would feel in my body if I smoked at all that day.
I’m about to read this lengthy article in the NY Times Magazine about Emily Gould. What’s the deal with the pictures!
Filed under: Essay, Ha-Ha's, Uncategorized | Tags: Aviators, Batavia, Brooklyn, Buffalo, Cable, Crack Pipes, Daria, Fraternity Life, Money, Mugging, Sorrority Life, Student Loans, The Real World, Western New York
Whenever I stop watching a show, I think that everyone else who still watches it is out of their mind. Between the ages of 11 and 17 when I was still living with my parents, Real World Marathons seemed to be on every weekend. Before and after Daria was on MTV, I’d leave The Real World on the t.v. while I was home alone or relaxing on the couch. For Four plus hours at a time. At some point during the summer before I went to college, I stopped watching television except for late night infomercials when I came home stoned. If I was stoned and the Real World was on, I guess I’d probably watch it.
It turns out it’s been 10 seasons of the Real World since the show has taken place in New York. And according to an MTV issued announcement discussed in the New York Observer,
“The Brooklyn season, like the Hollywood season, will focus on what people loved about ‘The Real World’ when it launched in 1992 – genuine people, meaningful conflict and powerful stories,” Jon Murray, “The Real World” Co-Creator and Chairman & President of Bunim-Murray Productions. “We’re thrilled that MTV is allowing ‘The Real World’ turn 21!”
Powerful stories like:
- How I lost my trust fund when my parents found out about my first DUI.
- My night in a Midtown Manhattan holding cell after I urinated on a homeless man.
- That one time a Spanish-speaking man made perverted gestures at me on the streets when I was walking home from a bar wearing an American Apparel Tube-dress.
- That one time I went bankrupt by age 22 because maxed out all of my credit cards from buying Paris Hilton’s clothing line for dogs and having an official Margarita’s Monday in the Village every week. (basically the “I spent money I didn’t have” story).
The confrontations and group meetings on this show are always so snooze able remarkable.
I don’t care if this show exists, because it doesn’t really exist so long as I don’t have cable or the show isn’t taking place near anywhere I live. Which is funny to think about because when I was still in Batavia, MTV was filming Sorrority Life and Fratnernity Life at the University at Buffalo. I think that’s where they should have stopped filming Real World type shows altogether. Real World is a glorified college dorm room experience anyway. But the realistic condition is that you’re in a shitty suite with a shared bathroom and cockroaches in your refrigerator. Maybe MTV is tempting college students with unattainable standards of night life and alcoholism that just looks so … hot. I tried to look for a photo of Ruthie from Hawaii drinking so much that she was about to pass out in the shower.
And of course the Real World HAD TO TURN 21 because that’s the age that we all look forward to so we can legally get shitface, even if our brains and livers are weathered beyond the state of the average 21 year-old’s because of college induced partying.
Maybe when I get a little bit older and have to move back to Western New York so I can afford to pay back my students loans, I’ll have a little extra money for cable since I won’t be paying for a Brooklyn Apartment, and I’ll find myself watching re-runs of The Real World: Brooklyn. I’ll remember the time I saw MTV with cameras on North Six St. while they captured a glorious television moment: a very “urban” someone lighting a crack pipe and mugging one of the aviator-clad artists they casted to live in the burg — simultaneously.
Anyway, God Bless America. I wouldn’t want to live in a country where starving artists couldn’t live in 2 grand a month lofts in hip neighborhoods. I learned everything I know about alcoholism and assault from the Real World.
That’s right, you keep that glass to your face, mister. Hair extensions never looked so good with so much foundation and eye shadow.
Filed under: Uncategorized
[ youtube=http: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ke8KNwLxBqU&NR=1]
Filed under: Food and Drink, Ha-Ha's, Prattstitutes | Tags: Eggs, excitement, Flowers, Foxes, french fries, Gray Hurlburt, Jared Paterson, Kaitlin McGowan, Margaritas, Mojitos, Pratt Intitute, Red Hook ESB, Scott Tomford, Sharon Clark, Six Point, slurred speech, The dude from Yemen, The Habana Outpost, White Castle
Yesterday I got drunk.
It’s half past one o’clock and I’m settling with coffee and digesting some cheese and hummus.
I went to the Habana Outpost with Scott, Jared and Gray last night. I ordered a veggie burger, Scott had a cubano, and Gray got the Cactus Salad. He was very upset that there wasn’t actually any cactus in the cactus salad. And we all got drinks. I kept making Scott go to the counter to get drinks for me because I was worried they would I.D. me. The six point that they had on tap was only $2.50, but we paid something like $8 for really tasty and sugary as hell margaritas and mojitos. They came in these sweet cups that were made of corn:
Filed under: Food and Drink | Tags: bread, cheese, lettuce, milk, Mold, purging, Saturday, Summer, take-out
I started to re-organize the refrigerator today and I noticed that a lot of the food in there had expired. If you look at the photo, there’s some buttermilk that had expired in the beginning of April, same for the juice. Some of the cheese had expired in April as well. There was a lot of mold or potential for it at least. So that’s what I tossed because it all seemed like it was food that had been forgotten about anyway. Now I’m just worried that my roommates will see that I’ve thrown out all this food and get pissed. But at the same time, I don’t know if they will get pissed because it’s food they would’ve thrown out anyway if they saw the expiration/sell by date, or saw that there was mold on the cheese or the lettuce leaves were extra brown around the edges.
Anyway, after I plowed through and finished throwing things out/reorganizing and consolidating everything, there was SO MUCH SPACE. Six people live here currently. Seven if you include my roommate’s boyfriend who spends a lot of time here. In the lower right-hand corner, there were some things that I wasn’t certain about how long they had been in the fridge or what they were because of un-marked packaging. So that’s more potential clear space.
And that’s how my Saturday from 1 p.m. to 4 p.m. was spent.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: A Public Space, internships, Jezebel, Prison, Pros and Cons, Responsibility, Summer, the G train, Water
I’ve mostly stopped thinking about the end of the world, but now I’m thinking about prison. I don’t think it would be that bad to spend a lot of time behind bars.
Pros of prison:
- No sunlight, No skin cancer.
- Lots of time to read.
- Lots of time to write.
- Lots of time to sleep.
- Not having to talk to anyone.
- Sleeping almost whenever.
- I don’t have to pay taxes.
Cons of Prison
- No sunlight, broken bones.
- A shitty job that pays pennies an hour.
- Terrible prison food.
- People yelling at me.
- No one to talk to.
- No sex.
The more I thought about prison, the more I realized I probably would never be arrested in my lifetime. Damnit.
There wouldn’t be any responsibilities in prison.
I get stressed out about everyday responsibilities. But I think I have more of a problem with them than other people do. Because my worries about responisibilities are just so… odd. Two weeks ago I had brunch with my sister in Williamsburg. We walked to an organic food store and she bought me lilacs. I said goodbye to her in the subway station. She got on the L, I got on the G at Metroplitan. I walked far enough down the platform to get where the benches are. A train must have just come because all of the seats except for one were empty. I walked to the end of the row and chose the second to last seat. There was water on this seat, so I had to sit down next to it. After I sat down, more people with tired legs followed. The amount of water on the seat wasn’t a lot, but it was enough so that you’d feel it on your pants if you sat on it. Every time someone had their eye on the seat as they came in my direction, I’d pull my face out of the bouquet of lilacs and say, “That’s wet.” I said it to three people. I wanted to get up. Why didn’t the person next to me say anything? Why was I the one who had to forewarn people? After I told them about the wet seat, they probably stood on the platform next to an I-beam thinking, “That bitch doesn’t know that I have arthritis and I should be sitting. She looks young!”
Just take the responsibility away.
At the end of May, I’ll be finished with my internship at Jezebel.com so I’ll have a little more free time. Although! I think I’ve found a replacement internship at A Public Space.
