*7:25 PM December 25, 2010
I've never had a whole month go by in between posts. But I also have a real job and was able to get good grades this semester. So.... suck it.
You know I love reminding you all of why I'm superior. It's out of love, really... well, it would be if I had the ability to feel that emotion.
Merry Christmas! Merry People Being Selfish And Comparing Gifts!... I really hate this holiday. People really take their parents' for granted on this day. Amongst the 162 "Merry Christmas!" texts I got WHILE I WAS SLEEPING this morning, the only other messages I got were "What did you get?" Why do you care? You don't. You just want to know if your gifts were better or more expensive. I see right through you, world.
And by the way, we are not kids anymore. There is no need to be up at the crack of dawn to open presents and then text your sleeping friends. When I'm up before the crack of dawn for work, you don't see any texts from me saying "Good morning sunshine! :D". The presents will be the same whether it's 6am or 10am. Santa doesn't cram his hugeness back down the chimney to take them back to the North Pole for his elves to play with.
I bet you're all wondering why this post is particularly bitter. Well, I'll tell you. I'm at my apartment alone. On Christmas. No yummy Christmas dinner for me. (I am looking forward to my Campbell's chicken noodle soup though...). Be thankful for the company you're with, not your parents empty banks accounts. I'm the last person to ever jump on the pity parade; I only tell you this to show you the real meaning of Christmas. It's like I'm Jesus.
Oh, excuse me, I'm not alone. I have my room mates' cats here to make me feel like a crazy cat lady. Tis' the season...
Love, Me
Happy Most Delicious Day Of The Year!
*5:12 PM November 25, 2010
And happy most boring day of the year. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing my family. But there are only so many times I can say "I'm undeclared," before I start feeling completely useless. But the food was really top notch. Not as good as my grandma would have made it, but still, my aunt gave it a solid effort. And the whole process was really hilarious because my grandma is about as cocky as I am and just kept on getting kicked out of the kitchen and saying "They're doing it all wrong."
Speaking of my cockiness, for some reason it was very important to me to be a champ and eat like a man. Probs had something to do with a certain lil' bro of mine... Anyways, I had two full plates of food with stuffing, green bean casserole, mac and cheese, candied yams, mashed potatoes, buttered rolls, and of course turkey (dark and light meat). And then two pieces of cheesecake and a half a chocolate chip cookie... I couldn't finish the cookie... I felt so ashamed and defeated.
I have spent the last week and a half conditioning my stomach for this day. Eating way too much everyday to stretch out my stomach. You may call that sick... I call it dedication.
But now that there is no food to eat, everyone is just tired and bored. And there's nowhere to have the usual Thanksgiving nap because there are literally twenty people in this tiny house.
And someone just broke out Jenga... Things are about to get rowdy.
Love, Me
And happy most boring day of the year. Don't get me wrong, I love seeing my family. But there are only so many times I can say "I'm undeclared," before I start feeling completely useless. But the food was really top notch. Not as good as my grandma would have made it, but still, my aunt gave it a solid effort. And the whole process was really hilarious because my grandma is about as cocky as I am and just kept on getting kicked out of the kitchen and saying "They're doing it all wrong."
Speaking of my cockiness, for some reason it was very important to me to be a champ and eat like a man. Probs had something to do with a certain lil' bro of mine... Anyways, I had two full plates of food with stuffing, green bean casserole, mac and cheese, candied yams, mashed potatoes, buttered rolls, and of course turkey (dark and light meat). And then two pieces of cheesecake and a half a chocolate chip cookie... I couldn't finish the cookie... I felt so ashamed and defeated.
I have spent the last week and a half conditioning my stomach for this day. Eating way too much everyday to stretch out my stomach. You may call that sick... I call it dedication.
But now that there is no food to eat, everyone is just tired and bored. And there's nowhere to have the usual Thanksgiving nap because there are literally twenty people in this tiny house.
And someone just broke out Jenga... Things are about to get rowdy.
Love, Me
Got An Essay Due At Eight AM Tomorrow, And NOW I Decide To Blog...
*5:36 PM November 10, 2010
Writing sucks. This cat sucks. She loves me for absolutely no reason. I literally will throw her tiny body across the room, hitting at least one piece of furniture on the way, to get her away from me. Yet she still limps on back into my lap.
But back to writing... I took Art, Piano, and Guitar this semester for a reason. No professor wants to read an essay on the treble clef, hence no essays. However, The CUNY system expects us to have a well rounded education for whatever reason and forces me to take Philosophy and History as well. *Sigh*
BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'S ANNOYING ON A COMPLETELY SEPARATE TOPIC? My sister has ruined yet another article of clothing whilst borrowing it from me without asking. This is why I have a strict policy of NO SHARING. "Sharing is caring"? No, sharing is DUMB. Not only did I wear this shirt ONCE, I bought it this summer so there's no way I can replace it. Doesn't everyone know you don't put flannel in the dryer? Or maybe it's just me and I'm smarter than everyone else... Yup that's it. If only my laundry knowledge matched my Philosophy knowledge so I could write a decent essay without pulling my hair out.
I should just go to the professor tomorrow and tell him that my SISTER'S cat couldn't stop trying to sleep on my laptop so I had no way to type my essay...
The sad thing is that I wouldn't be lying.
Love, Me
Writing sucks. This cat sucks. She loves me for absolutely no reason. I literally will throw her tiny body across the room, hitting at least one piece of furniture on the way, to get her away from me. Yet she still limps on back into my lap.
But back to writing... I took Art, Piano, and Guitar this semester for a reason. No professor wants to read an essay on the treble clef, hence no essays. However, The CUNY system expects us to have a well rounded education for whatever reason and forces me to take Philosophy and History as well. *Sigh*
BUT YOU KNOW WHAT'S ANNOYING ON A COMPLETELY SEPARATE TOPIC? My sister has ruined yet another article of clothing whilst borrowing it from me without asking. This is why I have a strict policy of NO SHARING. "Sharing is caring"? No, sharing is DUMB. Not only did I wear this shirt ONCE, I bought it this summer so there's no way I can replace it. Doesn't everyone know you don't put flannel in the dryer? Or maybe it's just me and I'm smarter than everyone else... Yup that's it. If only my laundry knowledge matched my Philosophy knowledge so I could write a decent essay without pulling my hair out.
I should just go to the professor tomorrow and tell him that my SISTER'S cat couldn't stop trying to sleep on my laptop so I had no way to type my essay...
The sad thing is that I wouldn't be lying.
Love, Me
I Am The Wrong Person To Be Living In New York City...
*11:58 PM October 27, 2010
... Seeing as I'm very claustrophobic. Well, I shouldn't say "very". I only get uncomfortable in the subway. It gets hot and my legs hurt from standing still too long. But today after work it wasn't very crowded, so there shouldn't have been an issue. HOWEVER, why wouldn't there be? It's me.
So I'm leaning against the doors which happens to be against the rules, but hey, I'm a rebel. And these two [insert race here] move across the the car and stand in front of me. Totes fine. But the male [race] has his back towards me so he doesn't realize that he is slowly inching closer and closer to me. By the time I ran out of the car I could count the hairs on the back of his neck. Why would I do such a thing you're probably asking... Because it was RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE where it had no business being. And subway rides are boring. What else am I going to do?
I hate having a job and being responsible. I wish I could be mean and go back to living off my Daddy like last year. And the worst part is that he would totes do it seeing as I'm "dedicated" wholeheartedly into my "studies". But rolling in money that I've cashed into dollar bills when I'm home alone is too much fun... Last year I had no friends and all the time in the world. This semester I have a whole bunch of friends and no time to have fun college experiences. I can't win.
But I have GREAT news! I have discovered a direction in life! It makes sense! There's nothing else I'd do well at! And I'm not going to tell you about it just in case I change my mind...
I went on a road trip to Columbus, Ohio this weekend. I saw an Amish woman, her toddler son, and her HORSE at a gas station filling a bucket with water. I believe that's all I wanted to say about that... pretty much speaks for itself.
Have a Happy Halloween weekend world! Let's try to remember it this year!
Love, Me
... Seeing as I'm very claustrophobic. Well, I shouldn't say "very". I only get uncomfortable in the subway. It gets hot and my legs hurt from standing still too long. But today after work it wasn't very crowded, so there shouldn't have been an issue. HOWEVER, why wouldn't there be? It's me.
So I'm leaning against the doors which happens to be against the rules, but hey, I'm a rebel. And these two [insert race here] move across the the car and stand in front of me. Totes fine. But the male [race] has his back towards me so he doesn't realize that he is slowly inching closer and closer to me. By the time I ran out of the car I could count the hairs on the back of his neck. Why would I do such a thing you're probably asking... Because it was RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE where it had no business being. And subway rides are boring. What else am I going to do?
I hate having a job and being responsible. I wish I could be mean and go back to living off my Daddy like last year. And the worst part is that he would totes do it seeing as I'm "dedicated" wholeheartedly into my "studies". But rolling in money that I've cashed into dollar bills when I'm home alone is too much fun... Last year I had no friends and all the time in the world. This semester I have a whole bunch of friends and no time to have fun college experiences. I can't win.
But I have GREAT news! I have discovered a direction in life! It makes sense! There's nothing else I'd do well at! And I'm not going to tell you about it just in case I change my mind...
I went on a road trip to Columbus, Ohio this weekend. I saw an Amish woman, her toddler son, and her HORSE at a gas station filling a bucket with water. I believe that's all I wanted to say about that... pretty much speaks for itself.
Have a Happy Halloween weekend world! Let's try to remember it this year!
Love, Me
Hello Weenie
*9:16 PM October 12, 2010
I woke up this morning (two hours before I needed to) to the usual songs of construction above my bedroom. The only difference between this morning and the others was that I got a visual show as well. I rolled over to look out my window to see a scaffold hanging directly outside of it. This didn't mean anything to my sleepy, delusional state of mind until I saw feet lowering to reveal legs. Then a torso. Then shoulders. It took me that long to get my wits together and jump to close the blinds. That respectable worker almost got a show himself seeing as I sleep half naked.
Listen folks. I am faced with a dilemma... I don't know what to be for Halloween. I know, I know! I'm scared too. Halloween is my religion. I'm hoping to make new friends on my trick or treating route. More friends, more candy swapping opportunities.
I'm starting to realize that I'm not as awesome as I thought I was. I constantly find myself sitting by myself in my school's cafeteria for hours on end. I used to think that it was because I was too intimidating for people to approach me... but now I understand it's because I'm a girl who doesn't wear make-up and draws strangers in her sketchpad while blasting music in her ears. I guess I just radiate loser...
Nah, I'm just joshin' you! I rock.
Love, Me
I woke up this morning (two hours before I needed to) to the usual songs of construction above my bedroom. The only difference between this morning and the others was that I got a visual show as well. I rolled over to look out my window to see a scaffold hanging directly outside of it. This didn't mean anything to my sleepy, delusional state of mind until I saw feet lowering to reveal legs. Then a torso. Then shoulders. It took me that long to get my wits together and jump to close the blinds. That respectable worker almost got a show himself seeing as I sleep half naked.
Listen folks. I am faced with a dilemma... I don't know what to be for Halloween. I know, I know! I'm scared too. Halloween is my religion. I'm hoping to make new friends on my trick or treating route. More friends, more candy swapping opportunities.
I'm starting to realize that I'm not as awesome as I thought I was. I constantly find myself sitting by myself in my school's cafeteria for hours on end. I used to think that it was because I was too intimidating for people to approach me... but now I understand it's because I'm a girl who doesn't wear make-up and draws strangers in her sketchpad while blasting music in her ears. I guess I just radiate loser...
Nah, I'm just joshin' you! I rock.
Love, Me
To My Fans (Lesser Humans)
10:58 AM September 25, 2010
My sincerest apologies for this very late blog post. It's just that my computer is broken and I really hate typing on this other stupid computer. It feels like I'm cheating on my pretty red one. But alas, what choice do I have? I have so much to tell you.
I woke up this morning to an empty apartment. Well, except for the cat that I didn't want. I almost squished her because she decided to be loving and snuggle right up to my waist. What a jerk. It's no surprise that I have no idea where my room mates are. They don't tell me anything and eat all my food.
There is some intense construction going on in my apartment building. Complete with jack hammers and hard hats. Oh, and it's right above my bedroom. I don't know what wakes me up first, the harmonious sound of concrete and metal grinding together, or the mini earthquake that shakes me awake. It's not important though. What's important is that it starts at frickin' 7AM.
But this is the worst: We aren't allowed to leave our windows open so that dust and asbestos and construction workers don't come in and wreak havoc. But I can't live in this apartment without any air flow! Summer wanted to be cool and hipster and decided to come back once it was over!
This cat is trying to eat my toes right now.
Anyways. You know what awesome thing happened to me on the subway the other day? The doors closed on my head!... Yea. Basically, it's because people suck and don't know how to conserve space in the cars. It's pretty simple to me. Scoot on down. But then again, there are some less than simple people in this city.
Who votes we lock them away?
Kylie for Mayor!
Love, Me
My sincerest apologies for this very late blog post. It's just that my computer is broken and I really hate typing on this other stupid computer. It feels like I'm cheating on my pretty red one. But alas, what choice do I have? I have so much to tell you.
I woke up this morning to an empty apartment. Well, except for the cat that I didn't want. I almost squished her because she decided to be loving and snuggle right up to my waist. What a jerk. It's no surprise that I have no idea where my room mates are. They don't tell me anything and eat all my food.
There is some intense construction going on in my apartment building. Complete with jack hammers and hard hats. Oh, and it's right above my bedroom. I don't know what wakes me up first, the harmonious sound of concrete and metal grinding together, or the mini earthquake that shakes me awake. It's not important though. What's important is that it starts at frickin' 7AM.
But this is the worst: We aren't allowed to leave our windows open so that dust and asbestos and construction workers don't come in and wreak havoc. But I can't live in this apartment without any air flow! Summer wanted to be cool and hipster and decided to come back once it was over!
This cat is trying to eat my toes right now.
Anyways. You know what awesome thing happened to me on the subway the other day? The doors closed on my head!... Yea. Basically, it's because people suck and don't know how to conserve space in the cars. It's pretty simple to me. Scoot on down. But then again, there are some less than simple people in this city.
Who votes we lock them away?
Kylie for Mayor!
Love, Me
Dear College, Prove To Me You're Not Useless
*4:06 PM September 6, 2010
This is going to be a GREAT semester. "Why?" you ask. Because, for the first time since I've started, I'm not being taught by a sexist or a burnt out hippie. Hooray. I actually have wonderful professors. Wonderfully sexy of course.
Now, don't jump to conclusions. I'm not going to fall in love with one of my teachers... Not again... I only have room for one in my heart *wink*.
No, no. I'm just kidding. I don't have a heart.
I think the only downside to this semester is that I have "that girl" in my history class. You know, the girl who sits front and center and participates way too much to the point where the professor even avoids her. The girl who tries to sound smart but she's just rambling big words and repeating herself (maybe she's a fan of Obama's speech skills). The girl who you want to throw spit-balls at and post "kick me" signs on. The girl who deserves a really good swirly. But, unfortunately, she has to exist for the universe to stay in balance. Not everyone can be like me.
But, like I said, I have really good professors. So this one knows she's full of it. He's quite a character himself. He's bitter, he curses, and I'm pretty sure he has some sort of addiction. In other words, he's ridiculous and I love it. Before he starts his class, he complains about something or other. "Did you know CUNY used to be free?" "They raise your tuition, but they can't get the damn escalators to work." And my favorite: "It's too hot outside, yet it's too cold in here." Might I suggest carrying a light jacket?
Thanks for the day off Labor Day.
Love, Me
This is going to be a GREAT semester. "Why?" you ask. Because, for the first time since I've started, I'm not being taught by a sexist or a burnt out hippie. Hooray. I actually have wonderful professors. Wonderfully sexy of course.
Now, don't jump to conclusions. I'm not going to fall in love with one of my teachers... Not again... I only have room for one in my heart *wink*.
No, no. I'm just kidding. I don't have a heart.
I think the only downside to this semester is that I have "that girl" in my history class. You know, the girl who sits front and center and participates way too much to the point where the professor even avoids her. The girl who tries to sound smart but she's just rambling big words and repeating herself (maybe she's a fan of Obama's speech skills). The girl who you want to throw spit-balls at and post "kick me" signs on. The girl who deserves a really good swirly. But, unfortunately, she has to exist for the universe to stay in balance. Not everyone can be like me.
But, like I said, I have really good professors. So this one knows she's full of it. He's quite a character himself. He's bitter, he curses, and I'm pretty sure he has some sort of addiction. In other words, he's ridiculous and I love it. Before he starts his class, he complains about something or other. "Did you know CUNY used to be free?" "They raise your tuition, but they can't get the damn escalators to work." And my favorite: "It's too hot outside, yet it's too cold in here." Might I suggest carrying a light jacket?
Thanks for the day off Labor Day.
Love, Me
Dear Taxi Drivers...
*2:56 AM August 28, 2010
... I am so terribly sorry for asking you to perform your job. I am so sorry for asking you to take me to Queens. I can't help myself but to live there. My mother owns the apartment so I don't have to pay rent. So I unfortunately have to splurge on food and transportation and TAXI DRIVER TIPS.
I decided to waste my life at school. You decided to waste your life behind a wheel. At least you get paid for being miserable!
I don't want to hear your complaining about driving to Queens. Because when I give you a tip that is over 50%, it's worth it.
I'm going to sleep now so that I can work my crappy waitress job in the morning and hopefully have time to study so I can do well being a full time student this semester.
I'm totes okay with going out and having fun once every three months.
Love, Me
... I am so terribly sorry for asking you to perform your job. I am so sorry for asking you to take me to Queens. I can't help myself but to live there. My mother owns the apartment so I don't have to pay rent. So I unfortunately have to splurge on food and transportation and TAXI DRIVER TIPS.
I decided to waste my life at school. You decided to waste your life behind a wheel. At least you get paid for being miserable!
I don't want to hear your complaining about driving to Queens. Because when I give you a tip that is over 50%, it's worth it.
I'm going to sleep now so that I can work my crappy waitress job in the morning and hopefully have time to study so I can do well being a full time student this semester.
I'm totes okay with going out and having fun once every three months.
Love, Me
Greetings From My Messy Bedroom
*10:21 AM August 24, 2010
My room is the size of a dumpster, so it's very easy to keep it clean. That is until I do laundry and don't want to fold my clothes and put them away. That's probably the worst chore a parent can ask of us. Perks of living alone...
World, I'm assuming you have noticed that my blog hasn't been following its normal Sunday night/ Monday morning schedule. With this new job and with school starting in two days (*sob*) you're just going to have to get used to it. I know it'll be hard for you to understand because your college experience consists of not working, not studying, binge drinking, and blog reading.
I hope everyone was able to keep all the knowledge from the previous school year in their brains. And hey, I hope you all learned new things this summer too. I sure did. I learned that some things should be left to professionals like plumbing, or box car racing, or bikini waxing... I don't want to talk about it...
I also learned that men are pigs! Well we all knew this before. But I thought this stuff only happened in bad sitcoms: Two days ago, two annoying tables were making me stay late at work. One table had an anorexic hippie who only ordered 27 mint teas. The other was clearly a date that the woman ASSUMED was going well since they were there for FOREVER. However, while she was in the restroom, I brought over his coffee... and he started to flirt with me! Asking me my name and whole life story only setting me free from the boring conversation when she finally came back. When I was finally fed up with waiting for them, I dropped the check with a sub text of "get the hell out!" THEN, being the "gentleman" he is, he slipped his credit card in the check book... and his phone number!
I gave it to my buddies in the kitchen and said "Have fun."
Love, Me
My room is the size of a dumpster, so it's very easy to keep it clean. That is until I do laundry and don't want to fold my clothes and put them away. That's probably the worst chore a parent can ask of us. Perks of living alone...
World, I'm assuming you have noticed that my blog hasn't been following its normal Sunday night/ Monday morning schedule. With this new job and with school starting in two days (*sob*) you're just going to have to get used to it. I know it'll be hard for you to understand because your college experience consists of not working, not studying, binge drinking, and blog reading.
I hope everyone was able to keep all the knowledge from the previous school year in their brains. And hey, I hope you all learned new things this summer too. I sure did. I learned that some things should be left to professionals like plumbing, or box car racing, or bikini waxing... I don't want to talk about it...
I also learned that men are pigs! Well we all knew this before. But I thought this stuff only happened in bad sitcoms: Two days ago, two annoying tables were making me stay late at work. One table had an anorexic hippie who only ordered 27 mint teas. The other was clearly a date that the woman ASSUMED was going well since they were there for FOREVER. However, while she was in the restroom, I brought over his coffee... and he started to flirt with me! Asking me my name and whole life story only setting me free from the boring conversation when she finally came back. When I was finally fed up with waiting for them, I dropped the check with a sub text of "get the hell out!" THEN, being the "gentleman" he is, he slipped his credit card in the check book... and his phone number!
I gave it to my buddies in the kitchen and said "Have fun."
Love, Me
Oh, Hi There.
*10:25 AM August 18, 2010
Tee Hee... Hi.
I know, I know! I "suck," I've "let you down." Thank goodness my head is too big to care. Anyways...
So I am no longer a barista. No, world, I didn't get fired. I'm too awesome for that. My boss decided to make me a waitress instead. So I said to my boss, "Boss, are you sure? I have no waiting experience." But that clearly didn't matter because they only trained me one out of the four days they were supposed to and felt I was ready to be thrown on the floor. Don't pretend you're shocked, world. You know I'm good.
But let me tell you, I haven't worked this hard at a job ever. Maybe at the bowling alley doing birthday parties, but that was only on weekends. I work five days a week now. And life guarding the elderly in a pool that only goes to five feet was a joke. The kitchen is downstairs, so I'm constantly running up and down them. I come home to collapse in bed and can feel my feet pulse in pain. Then there's the rich jerks I have wait on...
There are many different types of people I wait on, but here are three of the most popular: The people who order but then change everything about the meal. "No carrots. No blue cheese. Can I have goat cheese instead. And I would like my bread to come at the same time as my meal. And dear, I don't drink whole milk in my coffee, please bring me two percent. And can a carrier pigeon float my meal to my place setting?" These are the people who never tip.
Then there are the people who whisper their order at me thinking I have spidey senses that can pick up on the sound frequencies. But they don't waste my time like the rude people who flag me down when I have a tray full of beverages in my hand screaming "Miss! Excuse me, we're ready to order." And then of course when I get over there, they're still looking at the menu and take forever to just spit it out. "Okay to drink I want... now what exactly is a macchiato? Uh huh, don't want that... What's good to eat here? Oh, I didn't even SEE this side of the menu..." and so on. And they always get me when I have five other tables waiting for me.
There was one time when I asked a table if I could get them anything else, and the old man just nodded his head and stared at me for an uncomfortable 23 seconds. I didn't know if he wanted more milk or was having a stroke. He finally said he didn't need anything.
But I guess it's fun making a lot of money I don't have time to spend.
Love, Me
Tee Hee... Hi.
I know, I know! I "suck," I've "let you down." Thank goodness my head is too big to care. Anyways...
So I am no longer a barista. No, world, I didn't get fired. I'm too awesome for that. My boss decided to make me a waitress instead. So I said to my boss, "Boss, are you sure? I have no waiting experience." But that clearly didn't matter because they only trained me one out of the four days they were supposed to and felt I was ready to be thrown on the floor. Don't pretend you're shocked, world. You know I'm good.
But let me tell you, I haven't worked this hard at a job ever. Maybe at the bowling alley doing birthday parties, but that was only on weekends. I work five days a week now. And life guarding the elderly in a pool that only goes to five feet was a joke. The kitchen is downstairs, so I'm constantly running up and down them. I come home to collapse in bed and can feel my feet pulse in pain. Then there's the rich jerks I have wait on...
There are many different types of people I wait on, but here are three of the most popular: The people who order but then change everything about the meal. "No carrots. No blue cheese. Can I have goat cheese instead. And I would like my bread to come at the same time as my meal. And dear, I don't drink whole milk in my coffee, please bring me two percent. And can a carrier pigeon float my meal to my place setting?" These are the people who never tip.
Then there are the people who whisper their order at me thinking I have spidey senses that can pick up on the sound frequencies. But they don't waste my time like the rude people who flag me down when I have a tray full of beverages in my hand screaming "Miss! Excuse me, we're ready to order." And then of course when I get over there, they're still looking at the menu and take forever to just spit it out. "Okay to drink I want... now what exactly is a macchiato? Uh huh, don't want that... What's good to eat here? Oh, I didn't even SEE this side of the menu..." and so on. And they always get me when I have five other tables waiting for me.
There was one time when I asked a table if I could get them anything else, and the old man just nodded his head and stared at me for an uncomfortable 23 seconds. I didn't know if he wanted more milk or was having a stroke. He finally said he didn't need anything.
But I guess it's fun making a lot of money I don't have time to spend.
Love, Me
This Is The Story Of A Girl Who Became A Cliché And Blogged To The World
*11:42 AM July 26, 2010
I have some great news... I got a job! And now that we're on the same level, employment wise, I can go back to being better than you, world. I know, I'm just as happy as you are. I work as a barista at a cafe in Columbus Circle. It's so typical for a new New Yorker girl to get her first job in the city at a coffee shop. And to confirm my official New Yorker status, I got stuck in my elevator alone for a half an hour on Friday night. And lucky for you, I wrote down everything I was thinking in my phone. Enjoy...
"Totes stuck in an elevator right now... Should be feeling scared and nauseous. No. I'm pissed. I was on my way out to have a good time [despite my exhaustion and the fact that it was 11PM]. But because I'm a terrible person (who is a good friend, nurses orphaned kittens, and reads to the blind... Okay, that last one is false, but I write an awesome blog) I don't deserve to go out and have fun. Nope. Looking at a brick wall out the [elevator] window. Curse the storm and all its awesome power. And now I have to pee."
I finally figured I should work on getting out.
"Man, I wish my iPod wasn't dead. But once again, this would happen to a terrible person like me. I pushed the emergency button and it talked at me some emergency stuff. I talked back to it and it didn't answer... I then felt dumb because it isn't supposed to answer [it was a prerecorded message]. And then I felt dumb again for feeling dumb when no one even witnessed my interaction with the robot. I am ALONE in this elevator... Okay, a little nauseous now."
No one ever did come for me... glad I know for next time that there's a possibility of dying of starvation. I then started getting a little silly and weird.
"What I don't understand is how I lost service. I could send texts at the beginning of this debacle. Not now. I have no idea if someone is coming for me or anything. I can hear jingling keys from people out in the real world. I wonder what floor I'm on...? I'm so Alice In Wonderland right now. Okay my head is kind of woozy now. Yet I'm completely fine while writing this down. Ah! I moved! And again! This is terrifying hahahahahahaha."
I then started talking directly to you, world. Clearly going insane.
"Just like to add, that I'm brilliant for thinking to write this down for you, world. Win. Ugh moved again... to the first floor... I'm free! Now I can puke."
I never actually puked. I'm no wuss. Walking up the stairs.
"Awesome. I'm not going out now, so I get to walk the awesome six flight of stairs."
In bed.
"I love that my head is throbbing now that I'm OUT of the confinement cell (elevator)."
The End. I can go back to being a blob now.
Love, Me
I have some great news... I got a job! And now that we're on the same level, employment wise, I can go back to being better than you, world. I know, I'm just as happy as you are. I work as a barista at a cafe in Columbus Circle. It's so typical for a new New Yorker girl to get her first job in the city at a coffee shop. And to confirm my official New Yorker status, I got stuck in my elevator alone for a half an hour on Friday night. And lucky for you, I wrote down everything I was thinking in my phone. Enjoy...
"Totes stuck in an elevator right now... Should be feeling scared and nauseous. No. I'm pissed. I was on my way out to have a good time [despite my exhaustion and the fact that it was 11PM]. But because I'm a terrible person (who is a good friend, nurses orphaned kittens, and reads to the blind... Okay, that last one is false, but I write an awesome blog) I don't deserve to go out and have fun. Nope. Looking at a brick wall out the [elevator] window. Curse the storm and all its awesome power. And now I have to pee."
I finally figured I should work on getting out.
"Man, I wish my iPod wasn't dead. But once again, this would happen to a terrible person like me. I pushed the emergency button and it talked at me some emergency stuff. I talked back to it and it didn't answer... I then felt dumb because it isn't supposed to answer [it was a prerecorded message]. And then I felt dumb again for feeling dumb when no one even witnessed my interaction with the robot. I am ALONE in this elevator... Okay, a little nauseous now."
No one ever did come for me... glad I know for next time that there's a possibility of dying of starvation. I then started getting a little silly and weird.
"What I don't understand is how I lost service. I could send texts at the beginning of this debacle. Not now. I have no idea if someone is coming for me or anything. I can hear jingling keys from people out in the real world. I wonder what floor I'm on...? I'm so Alice In Wonderland right now. Okay my head is kind of woozy now. Yet I'm completely fine while writing this down. Ah! I moved! And again! This is terrifying hahahahahahaha."
I then started talking directly to you, world. Clearly going insane.
"Just like to add, that I'm brilliant for thinking to write this down for you, world. Win. Ugh moved again... to the first floor... I'm free! Now I can puke."
I never actually puked. I'm no wuss. Walking up the stairs.
"Awesome. I'm not going out now, so I get to walk the awesome six flight of stairs."
In bed.
"I love that my head is throbbing now that I'm OUT of the confinement cell (elevator)."
The End. I can go back to being a blob now.
Love, Me
If You Jump, I Will Too.
*9:04 AM July 20, 2010
Yes, world. I didn't accidentally put an "A" instead of a "P". It is very much nine in the morning. I don't think I have ever blogged this early. I was up at the ungodly hour of 7:30 to move my car so that I wouldn't get a ticket. And I was surprised to see screaming devil children running around the park with all the old people doing their old person version of yoga. It is the child's sole interest to disturb any sort of calm...
Since I couldn't go back to sleep I decided to finish my book. Yes, I can read. And let me ruin it for you so you feel no desire to start it. Woman is married, doesn't want children (I thought this was a safe bet for me), gets a divorce from her husband because he wants children, 250 pages go by, they get back together without resolving the baby issue... QUITE the page turner. I thought this woman was going to be my hero and be the start of the world realizing that repopulating the earth is not worth the boogers, drool and diapers. I guess it's up to me...
I went to Warped Tour this Saturday only to be blinded by pasty scenester clones with rainbow hair, walking around half naked with messages written all over them like "free hugs," "free kisses" and "free SPANKS" with an arrow pointing down to their butts. Oh, and to turn the vomit taste in your mouth to real vomit, the average age of these girls was 13. I wanted to cross out the word "spanks" and replace it with "penetration". I usually don't get so vulgar in my blog, but honestly, these girls need a slap in the face by a nun with a ruler.
I was very sorry to not see Envy On The Coast at Warped Tour because, unfortunately, they announced their break-up this week. And it's all my fault. Yes. When I found out Mike left Monty Are I, I had just finished playing their song on guitar about how much the lead singer loves his band. A half an hour before I found out about EOTC, I decided to wear their t-shirt that I haven't worn since I bought it.
So the good news is: I'm the most useless form of psychic!
The bad news is: I'm cursed.
Love, Me
Yes, world. I didn't accidentally put an "A" instead of a "P". It is very much nine in the morning. I don't think I have ever blogged this early. I was up at the ungodly hour of 7:30 to move my car so that I wouldn't get a ticket. And I was surprised to see screaming devil children running around the park with all the old people doing their old person version of yoga. It is the child's sole interest to disturb any sort of calm...
Since I couldn't go back to sleep I decided to finish my book. Yes, I can read. And let me ruin it for you so you feel no desire to start it. Woman is married, doesn't want children (I thought this was a safe bet for me), gets a divorce from her husband because he wants children, 250 pages go by, they get back together without resolving the baby issue... QUITE the page turner. I thought this woman was going to be my hero and be the start of the world realizing that repopulating the earth is not worth the boogers, drool and diapers. I guess it's up to me...
I went to Warped Tour this Saturday only to be blinded by pasty scenester clones with rainbow hair, walking around half naked with messages written all over them like "free hugs," "free kisses" and "free SPANKS" with an arrow pointing down to their butts. Oh, and to turn the vomit taste in your mouth to real vomit, the average age of these girls was 13. I wanted to cross out the word "spanks" and replace it with "penetration". I usually don't get so vulgar in my blog, but honestly, these girls need a slap in the face by a nun with a ruler.
I was very sorry to not see Envy On The Coast at Warped Tour because, unfortunately, they announced their break-up this week. And it's all my fault. Yes. When I found out Mike left Monty Are I, I had just finished playing their song on guitar about how much the lead singer loves his band. A half an hour before I found out about EOTC, I decided to wear their t-shirt that I haven't worn since I bought it.
So the good news is: I'm the most useless form of psychic!
The bad news is: I'm cursed.
Love, Me
I Hope The Radiation From My Head Exploding Makes You Sterile, World
11:38 PM July 11, 2010
When I started this blog 19 posts ago, I started it out of sadness. Lo and behold, my sadness is hilarious. And for those of you who have been dedicated readers and have followed me through my blogging journey, you know what makes my posts even more entertaining... Anger.
And so our story begins...
I took a little journey on the subway tonight. I'm a New Yorker, I don't have any other choice but to take the unreliable, rat infested, stupid, STUPID subway. I wait a good ten minutes on the platform for the F train to make an appearance. My destination is the Essex and Delancey Street stop.
I step into a fairly empty car and sit at the far end of it. I break out my trusty iPod to listen to music and to, of course, kick ass at solitaire, or as those jerks at Apple like to call it, "Klondike." That is a delectable ice cream treat guys, get over yourselves! Anyways...
Cue Mr. Creep/ potential terrorist. A greasy man from another seat comes over and sets his black bag down next to me. I look up to see him mouth and gesture something. The idiot is clearly blind and cannot see the headphones in my ear, so I take them out. He then decides to skip the verbal part and just gesture like I know ghetto sign language. This is when I firmly and not at all politely say "What?!" He says "I'll be right back," points to his bag and leaves the car. So like any other rational person, I think: Awesome. Bomb. Why didn't I write a will? Bitch is going to steal all my clothes.
Turns out he smoked a cigarette in between the cars. But this is still A. terrifying and B. not at all safe for the rest of us passengers. He comes back in, and instead of returning to his seat, he decides to sit down next to me and fill my nostrils with his tobacco stankness (if that's not a word, I just made it one).
While all of this is going on, the conductor is mumbling "Due to subway construction, this train will not be stopping at *mumble*mumble*mumble*" over the intercom. None of us can understand what the hell he's saying because who can understand "Shnarffgust barlgalham stuffancey humfgh?" So I double check with the conductor himself and ask if this train is going to stop at Essex Street. I'm quoting his exact words so there's no confusion of whether he is a complete and total LIAR. "Yes, this train. I'll get you there." Okay awesome, I continue my ride only to pass by, stop after stop, streets I don't know.
Of course it takes me very far away from Essex Street and in complete frustration, I stomped like a little girl off the train and struggled to find my way home from the downest of downtown. During this my phone AND iPod die. Cue crying baby.
The moral of the story is: My life sucks.
Love, Me
When I started this blog 19 posts ago, I started it out of sadness. Lo and behold, my sadness is hilarious. And for those of you who have been dedicated readers and have followed me through my blogging journey, you know what makes my posts even more entertaining... Anger.
And so our story begins...
I took a little journey on the subway tonight. I'm a New Yorker, I don't have any other choice but to take the unreliable, rat infested, stupid, STUPID subway. I wait a good ten minutes on the platform for the F train to make an appearance. My destination is the Essex and Delancey Street stop.
I step into a fairly empty car and sit at the far end of it. I break out my trusty iPod to listen to music and to, of course, kick ass at solitaire, or as those jerks at Apple like to call it, "Klondike." That is a delectable ice cream treat guys, get over yourselves! Anyways...
Cue Mr. Creep/ potential terrorist. A greasy man from another seat comes over and sets his black bag down next to me. I look up to see him mouth and gesture something. The idiot is clearly blind and cannot see the headphones in my ear, so I take them out. He then decides to skip the verbal part and just gesture like I know ghetto sign language. This is when I firmly and not at all politely say "What?!" He says "I'll be right back," points to his bag and leaves the car. So like any other rational person, I think: Awesome. Bomb. Why didn't I write a will? Bitch is going to steal all my clothes.
Turns out he smoked a cigarette in between the cars. But this is still A. terrifying and B. not at all safe for the rest of us passengers. He comes back in, and instead of returning to his seat, he decides to sit down next to me and fill my nostrils with his tobacco stankness (if that's not a word, I just made it one).
While all of this is going on, the conductor is mumbling "Due to subway construction, this train will not be stopping at *mumble*mumble*mumble*" over the intercom. None of us can understand what the hell he's saying because who can understand "Shnarffgust barlgalham stuffancey humfgh?" So I double check with the conductor himself and ask if this train is going to stop at Essex Street. I'm quoting his exact words so there's no confusion of whether he is a complete and total LIAR. "Yes, this train. I'll get you there." Okay awesome, I continue my ride only to pass by, stop after stop, streets I don't know.
Of course it takes me very far away from Essex Street and in complete frustration, I stomped like a little girl off the train and struggled to find my way home from the downest of downtown. During this my phone AND iPod die. Cue crying baby.
The moral of the story is: My life sucks.
Love, Me
Ding Dong The Dog Is Gone, But He Left His Smelly Poop Behind...
*3:45 PM July 5, 2010
Butt moved out today. I'm really going to miss him and his Frank Sinatra records. I came home to his empty room and was caught off guard when my throat got all tight. I then walked into the kitchen and stepped on a mini poop nugget. My throat relaxed and I rolled my eyes.
I am absolutely not going to miss his dog. He may have only been here a month, but he was here long enough to mark his territory on every inch of my clean apartment. And he stole my birthday thunder. Anyways...
Even though Butt bought the dog against my wishes, and was never home to take care of him... and was a rather messy drunk, and kept me up late in the night with his "important" phone calls, and walked around with his junk waving at my virgin eyes, and borrowed all my dresses... Wait-- Why am I going to miss him?
Happy Independence Day! I'm sure you all saw me patriotically leading the parade. Hope you all were able to escape from drunken family members and didn't catch on fire from falling embers. I personally had to be pulled away from the fires.
I love fire.
Love, Me
Butt moved out today. I'm really going to miss him and his Frank Sinatra records. I came home to his empty room and was caught off guard when my throat got all tight. I then walked into the kitchen and stepped on a mini poop nugget. My throat relaxed and I rolled my eyes.
I am absolutely not going to miss his dog. He may have only been here a month, but he was here long enough to mark his territory on every inch of my clean apartment. And he stole my birthday thunder. Anyways...
Even though Butt bought the dog against my wishes, and was never home to take care of him... and was a rather messy drunk, and kept me up late in the night with his "important" phone calls, and walked around with his junk waving at my virgin eyes, and borrowed all my dresses... Wait-- Why am I going to miss him?
Happy Independence Day! I'm sure you all saw me patriotically leading the parade. Hope you all were able to escape from drunken family members and didn't catch on fire from falling embers. I personally had to be pulled away from the fires.
I love fire.
Love, Me
Happy Father's Day!... Now, How Many Of You Actually Hung Out With Your Dads?
* 12:36 AM June 21, 2010
Poor dads. Father's Day does not get the attention that Mother's Day does. But let's be fair, Mamas do have to push our fat heads out... But then again, Dad is the one who had to live through the nine crazy months of Mom hulking out on a moments notice. But honestly, I'm such a gift to my parents-- to the world, in fact-- that they've created a day for me: Kylie's Day. And Kylie's Day is everyday.
Toy Story 3 was indeed amazing. Cried like a little girl at a Twilight movie premiere. And all I want to do is talk about it for hours and hours, but not everyone has seen this gift to the film world. And those SELFISH people can feel guilty for affecting your blog reading experience. Shameful.
Now, moving on to complain about my room mates... We never get tired of that.
World, did you know that I cannot even lock my door when leaving my NEW YORK CITY apartment empty? Yes, all because my room mates A. lost their house keys that I made for them, and B. refuse to walk the four blocks to get some more made. Not that they could afford to get the three dollar copies made when they spend their money on more important things like bus tickets, dog food, and hair extensions.
I just hope I'm the one who gets raped and killed when someone breaks in-- excuse me, easily turns the door knob and walks in. That way, my room mates will soon follow me to hell after my adoring fans have killed them for taking away the highlight of their week: my blog. And there I will sit, on the right side of Satan's chair, grinning. Oh my gosh, I'm totes kidding. I'll be sitting in Satan's chair, holding a stick with his head on it, cackling with evil glee.
Oh no. I should stop now. My anger is firing up. And as you know, this subject really deserves its own post.
Ta ta for now.
Love, Me
Poor dads. Father's Day does not get the attention that Mother's Day does. But let's be fair, Mamas do have to push our fat heads out... But then again, Dad is the one who had to live through the nine crazy months of Mom hulking out on a moments notice. But honestly, I'm such a gift to my parents-- to the world, in fact-- that they've created a day for me: Kylie's Day. And Kylie's Day is everyday.
Toy Story 3 was indeed amazing. Cried like a little girl at a Twilight movie premiere. And all I want to do is talk about it for hours and hours, but not everyone has seen this gift to the film world. And those SELFISH people can feel guilty for affecting your blog reading experience. Shameful.
Now, moving on to complain about my room mates... We never get tired of that.
World, did you know that I cannot even lock my door when leaving my NEW YORK CITY apartment empty? Yes, all because my room mates A. lost their house keys that I made for them, and B. refuse to walk the four blocks to get some more made. Not that they could afford to get the three dollar copies made when they spend their money on more important things like bus tickets, dog food, and hair extensions.
I just hope I'm the one who gets raped and killed when someone breaks in-- excuse me, easily turns the door knob and walks in. That way, my room mates will soon follow me to hell after my adoring fans have killed them for taking away the highlight of their week: my blog. And there I will sit, on the right side of Satan's chair, grinning. Oh my gosh, I'm totes kidding. I'll be sitting in Satan's chair, holding a stick with his head on it, cackling with evil glee.
Oh no. I should stop now. My anger is firing up. And as you know, this subject really deserves its own post.
Ta ta for now.
Love, Me
Hey World, Kylie Here Coming To You Live From... Well... Nowhere
*12:03 AM June 17, 2010
So, I used to think that I didn't have to worry about bugs in the city during the summer time. They tend to hang out in greener places. This is still true. However, when you do come across a mosquito in New York City, it has been mutated from all the pollution and homeless people. So when the little bugger bit my ankle, it mutated as well. Yes world, I now have a super ankle with super powers. Not only can I round-house kick Iron Man in the face, I am also sprouting little wings. Achilles would have been so jealous. But that's why I've been late world... I've been busy fighting crime.
In other news, I had a job interview today at a gym. Yes, I know it's not a bartending job, but it's very hard to get hired with no experience. So this job is just a way to put money in my pocket... and to get a free membership *wink*.
I also took another step into adulthood today... I disabled my formspring. It was time folks. There's a time in every young person's life where they find that many of the materialistic forms of entertainment in their life are silly... Yea I wasn't believing that either. The real reason is that I am no longer cool enough to be asked offensive questions. It was very hard to face this fact. I mean, I would forget about it for weeks, then finally sign in to find that I didn't have ONE question. A girl can only take so much rejection.
At least I have you world!
Love, Me
So, I used to think that I didn't have to worry about bugs in the city during the summer time. They tend to hang out in greener places. This is still true. However, when you do come across a mosquito in New York City, it has been mutated from all the pollution and homeless people. So when the little bugger bit my ankle, it mutated as well. Yes world, I now have a super ankle with super powers. Not only can I round-house kick Iron Man in the face, I am also sprouting little wings. Achilles would have been so jealous. But that's why I've been late world... I've been busy fighting crime.
In other news, I had a job interview today at a gym. Yes, I know it's not a bartending job, but it's very hard to get hired with no experience. So this job is just a way to put money in my pocket... and to get a free membership *wink*.
I also took another step into adulthood today... I disabled my formspring. It was time folks. There's a time in every young person's life where they find that many of the materialistic forms of entertainment in their life are silly... Yea I wasn't believing that either. The real reason is that I am no longer cool enough to be asked offensive questions. It was very hard to face this fact. I mean, I would forget about it for weeks, then finally sign in to find that I didn't have ONE question. A girl can only take so much rejection.
At least I have you world!
Love, Me
"Just for the record, the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of: A. Indifference or B. Disinterest of what the critics say."
*12:25 AM June 7, 2010
Ah, remember the good old days when Panic! At The Disco made good music and didn't sell out to write songs for Megan Fox movies? Yea, I don't remember them either... More importantly, I don't even think Panic! At The Disco has the exclamation point in their name anymore. It's like they know their music has become lame and uninteresting. Tragic.
But the reason I have stolen this line from their song "London Beckoned Songs That Didn't Have Epic Novels For Titles" is because I recently received a critique on my blog that made me realize it is my baby. Like how one should never compare an ugly baby to Tori Spelling to the mother's face, please don't criticize my blog when I don't ask for it. I don't see any of you selflessly entertaining the world (seven people) every week! I love my baby...
Oh world... what to talk about?! Oh, I know! What is Obama going to do about this oil spill in the Gulf? Ha! I'm totally kidding. I don't know/ care about things that people learn about on that silly channel called "The News". Don't be offended intellectuals! I just don't have a television.
Invest in bikes, world! That, or memorize your parent's credit card numbers!
Love, Me
Ah, remember the good old days when Panic! At The Disco made good music and didn't sell out to write songs for Megan Fox movies? Yea, I don't remember them either... More importantly, I don't even think Panic! At The Disco has the exclamation point in their name anymore. It's like they know their music has become lame and uninteresting. Tragic.
But the reason I have stolen this line from their song "London Beckoned Songs That Didn't Have Epic Novels For Titles" is because I recently received a critique on my blog that made me realize it is my baby. Like how one should never compare an ugly baby to Tori Spelling to the mother's face, please don't criticize my blog when I don't ask for it. I don't see any of you selflessly entertaining the world (seven people) every week! I love my baby...
Oh world... what to talk about?! Oh, I know! What is Obama going to do about this oil spill in the Gulf? Ha! I'm totally kidding. I don't know/ care about things that people learn about on that silly channel called "The News". Don't be offended intellectuals! I just don't have a television.
Invest in bikes, world! That, or memorize your parent's credit card numbers!
Love, Me
Dear Mahopac, No One Likes You. Stop Existing.
*1:43 PM June 1, 2010
It's June, school's over, I'm 19 and back in this stupid town where the only things to do are drive, eat, and party at my house. How exciting...
On the bright side, I'm unemployed... Not so great for me, but I figured I make fun of you all so much, you guys deserve to feel superior for once... just this once.
I hope everyone had a fun Memorial Day weekend! I also hope you all were eaten alive by mosquitoes like I was. Honestly, what is the appeal of the wilderness when you know your future holds pain and uncontrollable itching? Personally, I like the city. There's too much pollution and smog for mosquitoes to fly around and bug me. Pun completely intended.
I'm going to leave it at that, world. I'm on vacation and am too exhausted to entertain. I fully plan to have an exciting summer and brag about it all up and down this blog.
Be excited, world.
Love, Me
It's June, school's over, I'm 19 and back in this stupid town where the only things to do are drive, eat, and party at my house. How exciting...
On the bright side, I'm unemployed... Not so great for me, but I figured I make fun of you all so much, you guys deserve to feel superior for once... just this once.
I hope everyone had a fun Memorial Day weekend! I also hope you all were eaten alive by mosquitoes like I was. Honestly, what is the appeal of the wilderness when you know your future holds pain and uncontrollable itching? Personally, I like the city. There's too much pollution and smog for mosquitoes to fly around and bug me. Pun completely intended.
I'm going to leave it at that, world. I'm on vacation and am too exhausted to entertain. I fully plan to have an exciting summer and brag about it all up and down this blog.
Be excited, world.
Love, Me
It's Beginning To Smell A Lot Like Summer
*9:22 PM May 23, 2010
You know summer's coming when the subway starts to smell like--
*Sigh* I'm sorry, world. I couldn't finish that joke because I cannot concentrate due to the fact that my sister is skyping with her boyfriend in the living room. And jokes do not come easily when my gag reflex is being triggered this much.
Anyways...
You know what I love about old people? All they want to do is talk for an hour with us youngsters and tell us a story that usually begins with "Back in the day when I was a lad..." And even though the story is really boring and useless, it makes them so happy that you listened. And to all those jerks who think that they're crazy, I say: Yes, they are crazy, and yes they're weird, and yes they drool on themselves a little bit, but they are going to die soon and you'd be selfish not to listen and make them feel like they haven't shared a great deal of wisdom with you.
I say this because I recently was stopped on the street by an old Jewish man when he commented on my (awesome) Monty Are I t-shirt. And even though the conversation disjointedly jumped from the topics of Walt Whitman, soul mates existing, and the fact that Sandra Bullock used to be his neighbor, I was really glad he stopped me. Because after 20 minutes of standing in the cold, he shook my hand and left me with the cliche message of "Follow your heart."
Seeing as my birthday is around the corner, and I am about to turn the useless age of 19, this message hit home. I'm freaking out! Tuesday will mark the start of the last year I'm allowed to be stupid and reckless. In other words, the end of my life! Think about it first before you call me dramatic. What does the future hold for us? Full time jobs (ugh), debt (the worst), marriage (ew), monogamy (doubtful) , and kids (shoot me in the ovaries)!
What I'm trying to say, world, is to live your life so you have some stories to tell random kids when you're old and wearing diapers again.
Goodbye, world. See you when I'm 19.
Love, Me
You know summer's coming when the subway starts to smell like--
*Sigh* I'm sorry, world. I couldn't finish that joke because I cannot concentrate due to the fact that my sister is skyping with her boyfriend in the living room. And jokes do not come easily when my gag reflex is being triggered this much.
Anyways...
You know what I love about old people? All they want to do is talk for an hour with us youngsters and tell us a story that usually begins with "Back in the day when I was a lad..." And even though the story is really boring and useless, it makes them so happy that you listened. And to all those jerks who think that they're crazy, I say: Yes, they are crazy, and yes they're weird, and yes they drool on themselves a little bit, but they are going to die soon and you'd be selfish not to listen and make them feel like they haven't shared a great deal of wisdom with you.
I say this because I recently was stopped on the street by an old Jewish man when he commented on my (awesome) Monty Are I t-shirt. And even though the conversation disjointedly jumped from the topics of Walt Whitman, soul mates existing, and the fact that Sandra Bullock used to be his neighbor, I was really glad he stopped me. Because after 20 minutes of standing in the cold, he shook my hand and left me with the cliche message of "Follow your heart."
Seeing as my birthday is around the corner, and I am about to turn the useless age of 19, this message hit home. I'm freaking out! Tuesday will mark the start of the last year I'm allowed to be stupid and reckless. In other words, the end of my life! Think about it first before you call me dramatic. What does the future hold for us? Full time jobs (ugh), debt (the worst), marriage (ew), monogamy (doubtful) , and kids (shoot me in the ovaries)!
What I'm trying to say, world, is to live your life so you have some stories to tell random kids when you're old and wearing diapers again.
Goodbye, world. See you when I'm 19.
Love, Me
I didn't want to miss my deadline again...
*11:38 PM May 16, 2010
I am sorry to say that I lack inspiration this week. But I am an artist, and artists can't force art. Especially not such great art as mine. Yes, making fun of you, world, takes skill. It takes heart. And even though you all never stop being morons, it takes effort.
But I used to be one of you. I used to be stupid and selfish and lame. But I prevailed! (You all should think about following my lead.) And now that I've grown up to be this extraordinary woman/ artist/ knitter, I am starting to feel the weight of the guilt. So for this reason (and for the fact that I have nothing else to write about this week), I have decided to apologize:
I am sorry for leaving my sister's ipod in the car where it got stolen.
I am sorry for not visiting my grandma more often.
I am sorry I wasted my money on that dress that makes my ass look big.
I am sorry I lead you on.
I am sorry I forgot about you.
I am sorry I stole those string beans from the Fruital Farm.
I am sorry I didn't kiss you when I had the chance.
I am sorry I kissed you at all.
I am sorry that you apparently had no idea where my mouth was.
I am sorry I didn't drink coffee as a child. I did not know it stunts your growth.
I am sorry for not having a job.
I am sorry for this lame blog post.
I am sorry for hurting and disrespecting you.
I am sorry for not saving a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico.
I am sorry I crashed my car.
I am sorry I didn't punch you in the face.
I am sorry for lying.
And I am sorry for not being more mean, more blunt, more harsh, more honest and more of a bitch to you, world.
Someone has to do it.
Love, Me
I am sorry to say that I lack inspiration this week. But I am an artist, and artists can't force art. Especially not such great art as mine. Yes, making fun of you, world, takes skill. It takes heart. And even though you all never stop being morons, it takes effort.
But I used to be one of you. I used to be stupid and selfish and lame. But I prevailed! (You all should think about following my lead.) And now that I've grown up to be this extraordinary woman/ artist/ knitter, I am starting to feel the weight of the guilt. So for this reason (and for the fact that I have nothing else to write about this week), I have decided to apologize:
I am sorry for leaving my sister's ipod in the car where it got stolen.
I am sorry for not visiting my grandma more often.
I am sorry I wasted my money on that dress that makes my ass look big.
I am sorry I lead you on.
I am sorry I forgot about you.
I am sorry I stole those string beans from the Fruital Farm.
I am sorry I didn't kiss you when I had the chance.
I am sorry I kissed you at all.
I am sorry that you apparently had no idea where my mouth was.
I am sorry I didn't drink coffee as a child. I did not know it stunts your growth.
I am sorry for not having a job.
I am sorry for this lame blog post.
I am sorry for hurting and disrespecting you.
I am sorry for not saving a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to Geico.
I am sorry I crashed my car.
I am sorry I didn't punch you in the face.
I am sorry for lying.
And I am sorry for not being more mean, more blunt, more harsh, more honest and more of a bitch to you, world.
Someone has to do it.
Love, Me
WELL I FINALLY GOT SOME INSPIRATION! (World, you should read this title and hopefully feel the rage from it.)
*1:27 AM May 12, 2010
Hey world. Sorry I'm late but I had a wee bit of writer's block. Luckily for you (said with big cheesy smile), my horrible room mates woke my ass up giving me nothing else to do at this late hour except make fun of their jerk ways. They should feel so special being a subject to my blog. Not too much seeing as I don't have enough respect for them to mention their names. Because let's face it world, none of you are worthy of that.
I have, however, given them code names for easy story telling. Room mate #1: Tall, blonde, and selfish who is IN NO WAY RELATED TO ME WHATSOEVER (except by blood), shall be named "Bitch." Room mate #2: Short, clueless, and dresses like a 14 year old, shall be named "Baby." Room mate #3: Tall, loud, and homosexual, shall be named "Butt." Notice how I so cleverly made their names insulting.
Our story begins in our one bedroom apartment. Our living room stopped being a living room when Bitch invited Baby and Butt to come live with us. Oh how we giggled with glee as we played house together. Who could have foretold that... dun dun DUUUN... we'd all get pissed off at each other's inconsiderate ways.
Let's start with Bitch. Bitch's spontaneous boyfriend whisks her away on a romantic vacation to Vegas where the gays' idols, Celine Dion and Cher, roam. Gorgeous hotel room! (ka-ching) Four spectacular shows! (ka-ching) Alcohol! (ka-ching) "Don't worry baby, I know you're broke as a joke and could never afford this trip. I shall pay for you!.. and you can pay me back in installments (wink) with interest." Okay maybe that's not exactly how the conversation went down... but you get the picture. "Oh baby, you're just the greatest! I love you! Here are all of my paychecks! Thank goodness for my gorgeous, humorous, supportive sister who will pay for my meals, magazines, and Dunkin Donuts! She doesn't mind sitting at home alone not being able to afford to go out and have fun." ... If it wasn't clear world, that last part isn't true.
Just a free tip, from me to you, world: DON'T GO ON VACATION WHEN YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO SUPPORT YOURSELF. That should be easy to remember I think... common sense usually is.
Except when it comes to Baby. Baby thinks those little pieces of paper the police leave on your windshield are love notes saying "I love your Hello Kitty seat cover!" The rest of us know them as parking tickets. Well, Baby conveniently ignored those little love notes in her glove compartment just long enough for her car to be towed where she then owed twice the cost of the parking tickets. Sorry Baby, your see-through tank top and cheek revealing skirt won't get you out of this one. Uncle Sam is a fictional character that doesn't have a penis to think with.
But Butt does (hee hee)! Butt, I love you and the food you cook for me, but we do not have the luxury of four walls like Bitch and Baby. So when I'm trying to sleep and all I can hear is your drunk self violently throwing up Svedka and delicious pasta salad, I'm going to want to slap you silly. And trust me I was going to, but the fact that you were completely naked when I discovered you, made me let it go.
So after all this on top of my sleepless night, I do not want to be woken up at 1am on a Wednesday morning because Bitch, Baby, and Butt are stupid enough to think that the living room is still a living room. Especially when the fourth wall (A CURTAIN) dividing my bedroom (former dining room) from the living room is not sound proof! I do not want to hear about the fun that I couldn't partake in because I'm too poor and have to do stupid homework for my stupid education (that Bitch, Baby, and Butt lack and need).
Thanks to them, it has now become 3am, and I'm sitting in my dark room wide awake writing about these unimportant people. I would just like to add last minute annoyances: Bitch, If you can pay the boyfriend you've known for 6 months back, you can pay me back. Baby, I just spoke with the 90's and they're kicking you out. Butt, the Real World called, they want to put you and your dysfunctional relationship on television.
I am now thinking about what I have just written. I look at the reflection in the picture frame across from me of my face that is aglow from my computer screen. I smile that evil smile of mine, and click "publish post."
Love, Me
Hey world. Sorry I'm late but I had a wee bit of writer's block. Luckily for you (said with big cheesy smile), my horrible room mates woke my ass up giving me nothing else to do at this late hour except make fun of their jerk ways. They should feel so special being a subject to my blog. Not too much seeing as I don't have enough respect for them to mention their names. Because let's face it world, none of you are worthy of that.
I have, however, given them code names for easy story telling. Room mate #1: Tall, blonde, and selfish who is IN NO WAY RELATED TO ME WHATSOEVER (except by blood), shall be named "Bitch." Room mate #2: Short, clueless, and dresses like a 14 year old, shall be named "Baby." Room mate #3: Tall, loud, and homosexual, shall be named "Butt." Notice how I so cleverly made their names insulting.
Our story begins in our one bedroom apartment. Our living room stopped being a living room when Bitch invited Baby and Butt to come live with us. Oh how we giggled with glee as we played house together. Who could have foretold that... dun dun DUUUN... we'd all get pissed off at each other's inconsiderate ways.
Let's start with Bitch. Bitch's spontaneous boyfriend whisks her away on a romantic vacation to Vegas where the gays' idols, Celine Dion and Cher, roam. Gorgeous hotel room! (ka-ching) Four spectacular shows! (ka-ching) Alcohol! (ka-ching) "Don't worry baby, I know you're broke as a joke and could never afford this trip. I shall pay for you!.. and you can pay me back in installments (wink) with interest." Okay maybe that's not exactly how the conversation went down... but you get the picture. "Oh baby, you're just the greatest! I love you! Here are all of my paychecks! Thank goodness for my gorgeous, humorous, supportive sister who will pay for my meals, magazines, and Dunkin Donuts! She doesn't mind sitting at home alone not being able to afford to go out and have fun." ... If it wasn't clear world, that last part isn't true.
Just a free tip, from me to you, world: DON'T GO ON VACATION WHEN YOU CAN'T AFFORD TO SUPPORT YOURSELF. That should be easy to remember I think... common sense usually is.
Except when it comes to Baby. Baby thinks those little pieces of paper the police leave on your windshield are love notes saying "I love your Hello Kitty seat cover!" The rest of us know them as parking tickets. Well, Baby conveniently ignored those little love notes in her glove compartment just long enough for her car to be towed where she then owed twice the cost of the parking tickets. Sorry Baby, your see-through tank top and cheek revealing skirt won't get you out of this one. Uncle Sam is a fictional character that doesn't have a penis to think with.
But Butt does (hee hee)! Butt, I love you and the food you cook for me, but we do not have the luxury of four walls like Bitch and Baby. So when I'm trying to sleep and all I can hear is your drunk self violently throwing up Svedka and delicious pasta salad, I'm going to want to slap you silly. And trust me I was going to, but the fact that you were completely naked when I discovered you, made me let it go.
So after all this on top of my sleepless night, I do not want to be woken up at 1am on a Wednesday morning because Bitch, Baby, and Butt are stupid enough to think that the living room is still a living room. Especially when the fourth wall (A CURTAIN) dividing my bedroom (former dining room) from the living room is not sound proof! I do not want to hear about the fun that I couldn't partake in because I'm too poor and have to do stupid homework for my stupid education (that Bitch, Baby, and Butt lack and need).
Thanks to them, it has now become 3am, and I'm sitting in my dark room wide awake writing about these unimportant people. I would just like to add last minute annoyances: Bitch, If you can pay the boyfriend you've known for 6 months back, you can pay me back. Baby, I just spoke with the 90's and they're kicking you out. Butt, the Real World called, they want to put you and your dysfunctional relationship on television.
I am now thinking about what I have just written. I look at the reflection in the picture frame across from me of my face that is aglow from my computer screen. I smile that evil smile of mine, and click "publish post."
Love, Me
Mirror, Mirror On The Wall, Who's The Tallest Of Them All?
*8:47 PM May 2, 2010
Sorry for the heat today, world. Hell froze over and it's my fault. You see... I attended a party instead of throwing one myself. It'll never happen again. So you can all rest easy knowing you can still rely (torture) me for a good time.
What I am about to discuss (not so much discuss because you can't really talk back to me when shamefully reading this when no one's looking) is not a new discovery. At the "party" on Saturday, I was just so overwhelmed by this... what can I call it?.. unfamiliar wildlife, that I had one of those light-bulb-turning-on-above-the-head moments.
While backpacking through third world civilizations (ghetto ass Queens), I had a chance to commence my research on the male species. To my dismay, I realized that bros speak another language, whether they're guito, ghetto, scene or prep. This language is basically the English language, only they leave out multiple letters in their sentences, remove complete syllables from words, and will use a word in a context where it doesn't belong.
Now ladies, one would think it wouldn't be difficult to understand the ignorant language. Wrong! It's hard (tee hee)! I wish I had my English to Idiot translator book to help me get through the conversation at this "party." Some examples that personally made me wish my head would implode included: "That was mad O.D." and "Yea, I peeped that." I refuse to tell you the meaning of those phrases in order to keep you B+ and higher minds from harm. Oh, and one phrase they couldn't leave out of any sentence was "my nigga" (ugh, it hurt to type that). For the record, I hate that word even if it doesn't have the "-er."
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the tallest of them all? Now, seeing as you're all beneath, let's leave the language creating to me. Totes see you next week world.
One more thing... Y-O-U-'-R-E MEANS "YOU ARE!" Y-O-U-R MEANS "YOUR!"
Love, Me
Sorry for the heat today, world. Hell froze over and it's my fault. You see... I attended a party instead of throwing one myself. It'll never happen again. So you can all rest easy knowing you can still rely (torture) me for a good time.
What I am about to discuss (not so much discuss because you can't really talk back to me when shamefully reading this when no one's looking) is not a new discovery. At the "party" on Saturday, I was just so overwhelmed by this... what can I call it?.. unfamiliar wildlife, that I had one of those light-bulb-turning-on-above-the-head moments.
While backpacking through third world civilizations (ghetto ass Queens), I had a chance to commence my research on the male species. To my dismay, I realized that bros speak another language, whether they're guito, ghetto, scene or prep. This language is basically the English language, only they leave out multiple letters in their sentences, remove complete syllables from words, and will use a word in a context where it doesn't belong.
Now ladies, one would think it wouldn't be difficult to understand the ignorant language. Wrong! It's hard (tee hee)! I wish I had my English to Idiot translator book to help me get through the conversation at this "party." Some examples that personally made me wish my head would implode included: "That was mad O.D." and "Yea, I peeped that." I refuse to tell you the meaning of those phrases in order to keep you B+ and higher minds from harm. Oh, and one phrase they couldn't leave out of any sentence was "my nigga" (ugh, it hurt to type that). For the record, I hate that word even if it doesn't have the "-er."
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the tallest of them all? Now, seeing as you're all beneath, let's leave the language creating to me. Totes see you next week world.
One more thing... Y-O-U-'-R-E MEANS "YOU ARE!" Y-O-U-R MEANS "YOUR!"
Love, Me
Hey New York City! I've Got A Bone To Pick With You...
*9:32 AM Apr. 27, 2010
Hey world. Sorry I'm late, but while some like to flee from bats, I like to grab it, embrace it, and shove it down my gullet. Now if any of you actually understood that, good for you and your alcohol soaked brains.
So there have been some things I've been noticing about this fine New York City of mine... with buildings reaching the sky, where superman flies, and terrorists die-- whoa! Sorry, had a Dr. Seuss attack. But seriously world! This city and its citizens (and non-citizens of course) cause me a great deal of grief.
The bus for example: Let's get something straight, I hate the bus. It's where the fat, lazy, invalids roam. I'd feel bad about saying that, but when people take the bus then get off TWO BLOCKS away, they deserve a little bashing. Forgot where I was going with this... oh yea. When I'm dumb and wear flip flops on a cold, rainy day, I'll admit I need the bus' services. HOWEVER, when the bus driver sees a giant, white, blonde chick running to try and catch the bus, he snickers, rubs his evil hands together, then floors the gas and drives everyone's fat asses home except mine! Well Kylie, maybe he didn't see you-- No! I am very easy to spot in a town entirely made up of short hispanic folk.
As I slipped my way home, a jolly old man jokingly asked where my umbrella was. I politely responded "In the crapper, along with my bank account." Stupid wealthy lower middle class jerks think I can splurge on such things as rain shield devices!
Next, the subway (not the sandwiches): Despite our over-populated state, the dwellers of NYC are more socially awkward than any other place in America. "Should old acquaintance be forgot--" sorry! Picture this world: four subway seats, one person sitting on the far right, same on the far left. What does one do?! I'll tell you. These jerks sit in the middle of the two remaining seats! Yes, with the hump going up their butt and making a perfectly good seat unavailable to very tired people who have to carry their 6 foot tall body around all day. But I'm sure the white haired old lady knitting on your right and the 13 year old boy with the batman backpack on your left are crawling with infectious disease.
Oh and just to be clear: On the escalators, all the lazy people stand on the right, and those of us who plan to live past the age of 45, walk up on the left. Now I know this old lady is familiar with this rule seeing as she's been around long enough for her boobs to be tucked in her socks. Yet she still insists on standing on the left making us all late for our classes/ meetings/ falafel carts.
And to all the STD infested losers who call me "D-daamn girl" or "Hey mami you 'bootiful'" or "Ay yo ma!" When my head phones are in my ears and I'm obviously listening to my i pod, I DON'T FEEL LIKE HAVING A CHIT CHAT! I GOTS PLACES TO BE, A'RIGHT?
I'm exhausted New York City. I love you world.
Love, Me
Hey world. Sorry I'm late, but while some like to flee from bats, I like to grab it, embrace it, and shove it down my gullet. Now if any of you actually understood that, good for you and your alcohol soaked brains.
So there have been some things I've been noticing about this fine New York City of mine... with buildings reaching the sky, where superman flies, and terrorists die-- whoa! Sorry, had a Dr. Seuss attack. But seriously world! This city and its citizens (and non-citizens of course) cause me a great deal of grief.
The bus for example: Let's get something straight, I hate the bus. It's where the fat, lazy, invalids roam. I'd feel bad about saying that, but when people take the bus then get off TWO BLOCKS away, they deserve a little bashing. Forgot where I was going with this... oh yea. When I'm dumb and wear flip flops on a cold, rainy day, I'll admit I need the bus' services. HOWEVER, when the bus driver sees a giant, white, blonde chick running to try and catch the bus, he snickers, rubs his evil hands together, then floors the gas and drives everyone's fat asses home except mine! Well Kylie, maybe he didn't see you-- No! I am very easy to spot in a town entirely made up of short hispanic folk.
As I slipped my way home, a jolly old man jokingly asked where my umbrella was. I politely responded "In the crapper, along with my bank account." Stupid wealthy lower middle class jerks think I can splurge on such things as rain shield devices!
Next, the subway (not the sandwiches): Despite our over-populated state, the dwellers of NYC are more socially awkward than any other place in America. "Should old acquaintance be forgot--" sorry! Picture this world: four subway seats, one person sitting on the far right, same on the far left. What does one do?! I'll tell you. These jerks sit in the middle of the two remaining seats! Yes, with the hump going up their butt and making a perfectly good seat unavailable to very tired people who have to carry their 6 foot tall body around all day. But I'm sure the white haired old lady knitting on your right and the 13 year old boy with the batman backpack on your left are crawling with infectious disease.
Oh and just to be clear: On the escalators, all the lazy people stand on the right, and those of us who plan to live past the age of 45, walk up on the left. Now I know this old lady is familiar with this rule seeing as she's been around long enough for her boobs to be tucked in her socks. Yet she still insists on standing on the left making us all late for our classes/ meetings/ falafel carts.
And to all the STD infested losers who call me "D-daamn girl" or "Hey mami you 'bootiful'" or "Ay yo ma!" When my head phones are in my ears and I'm obviously listening to my i pod, I DON'T FEEL LIKE HAVING A CHIT CHAT! I GOTS PLACES TO BE, A'RIGHT?
I'm exhausted New York City. I love you world.
Love, Me
FAIL! All Wrong! Honestly, What Were You Thinking?
*12:06 AM Apr. 19, 2010
Dear lord! It is rough being more intelligent than the average human being. In celebration of my computer's return to my clutches, I spent the last four hours catching up on my Ugly Betty episodes on Hulu. To my surprise and sadness, the series finale aired on the 14th, so I was not prepared for an ending (another ending...). And the worse part is that they finished the story COMPLETELY wrong. The writers decided to change the characterization of every silly person on the show. I won't get into details because I highly recommend that you all watch the show for yourselves. But let's face it, certain people are meant to be together and certain people are not UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES supposed to be together. Ross and Rachel end up together because the world wants it!
Getting a little over excited... sorry. Anyways!
Another ending has taken place in my life. The bassist, Mike, of my all time favorite band, the reason for my love of music, why head banging is my religion, the cause of my severely decreased brain cell count, MONTY ARE I, has decided that it is his time to leave the band and to take a chunk of my Monty heart with him.
World, I'm not going to lie to you... I cried when I received the phone call breaking the news. I felt like the star of a movie. I had just finished playing one of their songs on my guitar and was about to go to sleep with happy thoughts of awesome music. Brrriiiing, brring. Next thing you know, my ass is behind the wheel of the first car I could get my hands on. (Yes I know what you're thinking, what idiot let me hijack their car knowing my car casualty count?)
The gist of it, world, is that I drove the journey (8 hours round trip) to see Mike's last show in the band's home state of Rhode Island. And let me tell you that Providence is like a NYC with smaller buildings and absolutely no civilization. Freakish... But anyways, of course the show was amazing and amazingly sad and I'm still trying to put pieces of my face that melted off back on. It is not the end of Monty Are I or the end of Mike. I hope he has an amazingly happy life and I'll miss him. Excuse me while I go cry some more.
World, I'm feeling faint from lack of slee-- zzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Love, Me
Dear lord! It is rough being more intelligent than the average human being. In celebration of my computer's return to my clutches, I spent the last four hours catching up on my Ugly Betty episodes on Hulu. To my surprise and sadness, the series finale aired on the 14th, so I was not prepared for an ending (another ending...). And the worse part is that they finished the story COMPLETELY wrong. The writers decided to change the characterization of every silly person on the show. I won't get into details because I highly recommend that you all watch the show for yourselves. But let's face it, certain people are meant to be together and certain people are not UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES supposed to be together. Ross and Rachel end up together because the world wants it!
Getting a little over excited... sorry. Anyways!
Another ending has taken place in my life. The bassist, Mike, of my all time favorite band, the reason for my love of music, why head banging is my religion, the cause of my severely decreased brain cell count, MONTY ARE I, has decided that it is his time to leave the band and to take a chunk of my Monty heart with him.
World, I'm not going to lie to you... I cried when I received the phone call breaking the news. I felt like the star of a movie. I had just finished playing one of their songs on my guitar and was about to go to sleep with happy thoughts of awesome music. Brrriiiing, brring. Next thing you know, my ass is behind the wheel of the first car I could get my hands on. (Yes I know what you're thinking, what idiot let me hijack their car knowing my car casualty count?)
The gist of it, world, is that I drove the journey (8 hours round trip) to see Mike's last show in the band's home state of Rhode Island. And let me tell you that Providence is like a NYC with smaller buildings and absolutely no civilization. Freakish... But anyways, of course the show was amazing and amazingly sad and I'm still trying to put pieces of my face that melted off back on. It is not the end of Monty Are I or the end of Mike. I hope he has an amazingly happy life and I'll miss him. Excuse me while I go cry some more.
World, I'm feeling faint from lack of slee-- zzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZ
Love, Me
Can You Forgive Me World?
*11:11 AM Apr. 16, 2010
World, have you been wondering why you've been feeling blue? Like there is a little cloud darkening your soul as you try to frolic in the our recent warm weather and sunshine? A hollow feeling like something or someone is missing from your heart?
Well that's me! I've been gone for almost two weeks and you've all started to forget what it feels like to be happy! My sincerest apologies world. But my computer was taken over by ANOTHER virus. Well to be clear, it was the same virus... it just came back again! Which, frankly, made me pull my hair out, sit in a corner and rock back and forth as I sang the chorus of "Blue (Da Ba De)" by Eiffel 65. It was the fourth time I've gotten this virus and I was ready to gut my computer with a steak knife to remove it... But I digress...
So much to talk about!
Due to my awesome levels of awesomeosity, I graduated from bartending school. Yes, Monday through Friday, nine hours a day of back pain. Excuse me while I brag, but I was one of three that graduated in a class of twelve. I can hear your applause all the way from Queens.
Wow... not that much to talk about.
Anyways world, I will be back for a normally scheduled blog post Sunday night with words on my trip to Rhode Island to see the amazing Monty Are I.
I promise tears, world.
Love, Me
World, have you been wondering why you've been feeling blue? Like there is a little cloud darkening your soul as you try to frolic in the our recent warm weather and sunshine? A hollow feeling like something or someone is missing from your heart?
Well that's me! I've been gone for almost two weeks and you've all started to forget what it feels like to be happy! My sincerest apologies world. But my computer was taken over by ANOTHER virus. Well to be clear, it was the same virus... it just came back again! Which, frankly, made me pull my hair out, sit in a corner and rock back and forth as I sang the chorus of "Blue (Da Ba De)" by Eiffel 65. It was the fourth time I've gotten this virus and I was ready to gut my computer with a steak knife to remove it... But I digress...
So much to talk about!
Due to my awesome levels of awesomeosity, I graduated from bartending school. Yes, Monday through Friday, nine hours a day of back pain. Excuse me while I brag, but I was one of three that graduated in a class of twelve. I can hear your applause all the way from Queens.
Wow... not that much to talk about.
Anyways world, I will be back for a normally scheduled blog post Sunday night with words on my trip to Rhode Island to see the amazing Monty Are I.
I promise tears, world.
Love, Me
Todays Forecast Includes 30 Degrees Of Annoyance Thrown In With Some Rain To Fall On Your Flip Flops
*10:19 PM Mar. 28, 2010
"Dear Mother Nature,
I am very sorry for making a joke in my blog post about your awesome power. I didn't mean it and it will never happen again. Love, Kylie"
I sent that to Santa Claus because I know him and Mother Nature are buddies and I don't have Mother Nature's address. Someone had to! What's this whole thing about it being winter again? We are three days from April world and I refuse to put boots back on my feet after switching to flip flops and letting them breathe in the lovely New York City smog.
But on a brighter note... I MET GERARD BUTLER! And he is six feet, two inches of Scottish orgasm. And I am happy to report that despite his growing fame, he hasn't become a diva jerk. And world, when this happened, I saw me and Gerry's future flash before my eyes. I saw the ring-- heard the wedding bells-- tasted the champagne from the honeymoon suite (tee hee)! Me... and Gerard Butler... had eye contact. It was magic! Packed with fireworks, shooting stars and a gospel church choir! After that, I knew the gorgeous brunette model he was with was just a friend.
More good news! I have acquired a name for my bar (and future grill)! Drum roll please... Shmylie's! Thanks to all for the suggestions, but you are all losers to Ms. Chrissy Varley. Credit must also be payed to Ms. Chelsea Derby/ Ms. Peyton West for giving me that name whilst bullying. Congratulations ladies! You are now famous.
Enjoy your spring break world because I will be away at bartending school learning and studying. So I say goodbye to human contact and civilization for forever!
... Or until next week.
Love, Me
"Dear Mother Nature,
I am very sorry for making a joke in my blog post about your awesome power. I didn't mean it and it will never happen again. Love, Kylie"
I sent that to Santa Claus because I know him and Mother Nature are buddies and I don't have Mother Nature's address. Someone had to! What's this whole thing about it being winter again? We are three days from April world and I refuse to put boots back on my feet after switching to flip flops and letting them breathe in the lovely New York City smog.
But on a brighter note... I MET GERARD BUTLER! And he is six feet, two inches of Scottish orgasm. And I am happy to report that despite his growing fame, he hasn't become a diva jerk. And world, when this happened, I saw me and Gerry's future flash before my eyes. I saw the ring-- heard the wedding bells-- tasted the champagne from the honeymoon suite (tee hee)! Me... and Gerard Butler... had eye contact. It was magic! Packed with fireworks, shooting stars and a gospel church choir! After that, I knew the gorgeous brunette model he was with was just a friend.
More good news! I have acquired a name for my bar (and future grill)! Drum roll please... Shmylie's! Thanks to all for the suggestions, but you are all losers to Ms. Chrissy Varley. Credit must also be payed to Ms. Chelsea Derby/ Ms. Peyton West for giving me that name whilst bullying. Congratulations ladies! You are now famous.
Enjoy your spring break world because I will be away at bartending school learning and studying. So I say goodbye to human contact and civilization for forever!
... Or until next week.
Love, Me
If You Like Pina Coladas, Then You'll Fall In Love With Me
*11:16 Mar. 21, 2010
For those of you who know me well enough to attend one of my parties, (you can only be so lucky) you know that between the hours of 10:30 pm and 11:00 pm I tend to... to put it lightly... explode into a million pieces that are delicately put back together with a delicious Razz and Diet Coke. And unless you were too close to avoid the worst of the blow and radiation, the party was able to pick up and regain its spirits like a Katrina relief group.
One would assume that after a certain number of NATURAL disasters, I would stop testing the fates...
Wrong.
I have fed into to all your pressures and opened up the worst possible aid to my insanity. Yes world, I have opened up a bar. And I christened it this weekend with my delicious pina coladas for a dear friend's birthday. For those of you who couldn't be bothered to make it to my sister's birthday event can feel like squares. Ta ha.
Now for some reason my creative instincts are crashing into a brick wall. I cannot think of a name for my bar (possible future bar AND grill). So world, I am looking to you for suggestions. If I like the name, the person who came up with it will have the privilege of being the first person mentioned by name in my blog. I know, the reward is too good to be true.
Start brainstorming world!
Love, Me
For those of you who know me well enough to attend one of my parties, (you can only be so lucky) you know that between the hours of 10:30 pm and 11:00 pm I tend to... to put it lightly... explode into a million pieces that are delicately put back together with a delicious Razz and Diet Coke. And unless you were too close to avoid the worst of the blow and radiation, the party was able to pick up and regain its spirits like a Katrina relief group.
One would assume that after a certain number of NATURAL disasters, I would stop testing the fates...
Wrong.
I have fed into to all your pressures and opened up the worst possible aid to my insanity. Yes world, I have opened up a bar. And I christened it this weekend with my delicious pina coladas for a dear friend's birthday. For those of you who couldn't be bothered to make it to my sister's birthday event can feel like squares. Ta ha.
Now for some reason my creative instincts are crashing into a brick wall. I cannot think of a name for my bar (possible future bar AND grill). So world, I am looking to you for suggestions. If I like the name, the person who came up with it will have the privilege of being the first person mentioned by name in my blog. I know, the reward is too good to be true.
Start brainstorming world!
Love, Me
You Know Your Day's Going To Be Bad When You Wake Up With A Bindi Zit
*12:43 AM Mar. 16, 2010
How was everyones Monday?!
Don't respond. This is where I bitch and moan. Get your own blog.
Really quickly... Woke up this morning at 5 a.m. to a bindi zit, did homework, had to run to the subway because a rogue garbage truck made me late, crammed into the packed subway car, crotch was "accidentally" groped by a man's newspaper, just made it to class but was still yelled at, cried a little inside and prayed for the end of the school day where my last class ran an extra ten minutes.
If you don't mind, I need a moment to sob after reliving all of this... okay, thank you.
ILLUSION 2010! I refuse to compliment its complete and total awesomeness in any way due to the fact that I'm highly jealous that I'm too old to be in it ever again. So you will not hear about everyone's face melting!
PARTY AT KYLIE'S # 1,052! I'm not going to lie world, it was an epic fail Illusion Alumni party seeing as no one showed up. But for the people who did show up... TOTES awesome. I'm going to boast a little and share with you all the quote of the night: "This may be the best party at Kylie's ever." - My lil' bro. Even though I broke my friend's seven year old Livestrong bracelet and tried melting it back together (I don't know who thought it was okay to let a pyro use a lighter), it was so fun! And SOMEONE had SOMETHING mooned... or flashed... depending on the angle you were at.
So all in all world, life is full of ups and downs. Whether there are more ups than downs depends on your perspective of life.
I know, I can be pretty deep world.
Love, Me
How was everyones Monday?!
Don't respond. This is where I bitch and moan. Get your own blog.
Really quickly... Woke up this morning at 5 a.m. to a bindi zit, did homework, had to run to the subway because a rogue garbage truck made me late, crammed into the packed subway car, crotch was "accidentally" groped by a man's newspaper, just made it to class but was still yelled at, cried a little inside and prayed for the end of the school day where my last class ran an extra ten minutes.
If you don't mind, I need a moment to sob after reliving all of this... okay, thank you.
ILLUSION 2010! I refuse to compliment its complete and total awesomeness in any way due to the fact that I'm highly jealous that I'm too old to be in it ever again. So you will not hear about everyone's face melting!
PARTY AT KYLIE'S # 1,052! I'm not going to lie world, it was an epic fail Illusion Alumni party seeing as no one showed up. But for the people who did show up... TOTES awesome. I'm going to boast a little and share with you all the quote of the night: "This may be the best party at Kylie's ever." - My lil' bro. Even though I broke my friend's seven year old Livestrong bracelet and tried melting it back together (I don't know who thought it was okay to let a pyro use a lighter), it was so fun! And SOMEONE had SOMETHING mooned... or flashed... depending on the angle you were at.
So all in all world, life is full of ups and downs. Whether there are more ups than downs depends on your perspective of life.
I know, I can be pretty deep world.
Love, Me
AND THE SKY OPENED... and Kylie fell from heaven
*11:20 AM Mar. 12, 2010
World, I try really hard not to say the "f" word on my blog unless I'm quoting someone... but... FUCK VIRUSES! They suck! The little computer fucker tried to keep me from you! World, I hope you can accept my sincerest apologies for this late post. I know how hard the wait has been for all my two readers...
Although my good friends And The Sky Opened didn't move forward in the Bamboozle Battle of the Bands, they were by far the best set of the day. And I know what you're thinking world, because I am always two steps ahead. I am not saying this just because they are my friends and I am bias. And I am thoroughly appalled you would think so little of me... I am saying they were the best because I could only stand to stay for their set and one other. But honestly, the other band's lead singer was the drummer. And when there's no front man, there's no fun and all zzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZ. So as my hipster friends say, I had to "peace out." Or is it just "peace" now? I can't keep up.
So I tell you all to give my adorable boys a listen, because even if you don't like their music, they're a pretty sexy band. I posted their Myspace link because the advertisement from my blog is good enough to get them a record deal!... well...
Oh, and I'm about to embark on the journey of learning how to drive a stick shift. Shouldn't end well considering my history with automobiles. I'll keep you updated world. And if I don't, I'm sure the crash will be heard all through Mahopac.
That's all for now world. Don't worry, I won't cheap out on you. There will be another regularly scheduled post Monday morning.
Sing with me world! "Throw it away! Take it away!"
Love, Me
World, I try really hard not to say the "f" word on my blog unless I'm quoting someone... but... FUCK VIRUSES! They suck! The little computer fucker tried to keep me from you! World, I hope you can accept my sincerest apologies for this late post. I know how hard the wait has been for all my two readers...
Although my good friends And The Sky Opened didn't move forward in the Bamboozle Battle of the Bands, they were by far the best set of the day. And I know what you're thinking world, because I am always two steps ahead. I am not saying this just because they are my friends and I am bias. And I am thoroughly appalled you would think so little of me... I am saying they were the best because I could only stand to stay for their set and one other. But honestly, the other band's lead singer was the drummer. And when there's no front man, there's no fun and all zzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZ. So as my hipster friends say, I had to "peace out." Or is it just "peace" now? I can't keep up.
So I tell you all to give my adorable boys a listen, because even if you don't like their music, they're a pretty sexy band. I posted their Myspace link because the advertisement from my blog is good enough to get them a record deal!... well...
Oh, and I'm about to embark on the journey of learning how to drive a stick shift. Shouldn't end well considering my history with automobiles. I'll keep you updated world. And if I don't, I'm sure the crash will be heard all through Mahopac.
That's all for now world. Don't worry, I won't cheap out on you. There will be another regularly scheduled post Monday morning.
Sing with me world! "Throw it away! Take it away!"
Love, Me
WORLD! I've missed you!
*1:26 AM Mar. 1, 2010
HAPPY FIRST DAY OF MARCH! Only 20 more days until it is officially Spring! (cue church choir) I don't know about you guys, but I am so over this snow. It's like, "Okay, we get it Mother Nature. We know you can turn the north-east into a frickin' snow globe." Honestly, thank you for the snow days, but all that has really done is make my professors have hot flashes and have them reschedule classes on Saturdays. And when I'm in the city and want to take a cab home but can't because the drivers don't feel like doing their jobs and ice skating my ass to Queens, you'll have to understand why I am not grateful.
Moving on...
The Winter Olympics just wrapped up in Vancouver, Canada with another exciting, and successful ye-- blah blah oh whatever... I'm not going to lie to you world, I don't give a flying poop about the Olympics. It lasts forever, the Chinese cheat, and it interrupts my stories in the T.V. box! Oh, and how many of you forgot about my black buddies? Oooooohhh yea. February is Black History Month!! Raise your hands in shame if you forgot! Once again, please don't actually do it, because if you are one my MY readers, you don't have friends to see your guilt. CONTINUING ON!... Oh, that's all I really had to say about that.
Most importantly...
Guess who became a victim of the Formspring Stalker...? ME! Yes world, it is true. I am just a few small steps from being cool. And do you know what the best part is? The FS reads my blog! I am filled with such glee and sunshine that spring will come early this year. Screw the groundhog! Oh! And I have a few suspects as to who the FS is... Sorry world, there's no chance in hell of me sharing my thoughts (however few) of this person with you. I must let the madness continue!!
World, things are looking up!
Love, Me
HAPPY FIRST DAY OF MARCH! Only 20 more days until it is officially Spring! (cue church choir) I don't know about you guys, but I am so over this snow. It's like, "Okay, we get it Mother Nature. We know you can turn the north-east into a frickin' snow globe." Honestly, thank you for the snow days, but all that has really done is make my professors have hot flashes and have them reschedule classes on Saturdays. And when I'm in the city and want to take a cab home but can't because the drivers don't feel like doing their jobs and ice skating my ass to Queens, you'll have to understand why I am not grateful.
Moving on...
The Winter Olympics just wrapped up in Vancouver, Canada with another exciting, and successful ye-- blah blah oh whatever... I'm not going to lie to you world, I don't give a flying poop about the Olympics. It lasts forever, the Chinese cheat, and it interrupts my stories in the T.V. box! Oh, and how many of you forgot about my black buddies? Oooooohhh yea. February is Black History Month!! Raise your hands in shame if you forgot! Once again, please don't actually do it, because if you are one my MY readers, you don't have friends to see your guilt. CONTINUING ON!... Oh, that's all I really had to say about that.
Most importantly...
Guess who became a victim of the Formspring Stalker...? ME! Yes world, it is true. I am just a few small steps from being cool. And do you know what the best part is? The FS reads my blog! I am filled with such glee and sunshine that spring will come early this year. Screw the groundhog! Oh! And I have a few suspects as to who the FS is... Sorry world, there's no chance in hell of me sharing my thoughts (however few) of this person with you. I must let the madness continue!!
World, things are looking up!
Love, Me
FORMSPRING: An Outlet For Insecure Teens To Stick It To The Meanies From High School
*11:04 PM Feb. 20, 2010
Hey folks,
Raise your and if you've been bashed on your formspring page for being "fucking annoying" or for being "a fucking loser?" Please don't actually raise your hand. No one can see you. But the point is, even if you thought you were nice to everyone and anyone, there is someone out there who hates your guts.
Well friends, I have some good news... if you look at it in a "glass half full" way. You all have the joy of having a stalker! *chirp*chirp* Hear me out people.
The way I look at it, you've got to be extremely popular to recieve so many "questions" on your page. The more postings, the higher your status. My friend had several pages of insults because she's a bad singer! It's obviously not true, hence the millions of jabs towards her. I mean, I think I only had one or two non-creative, semi-insulting comments said to me... doesn't really help my ego guys.
Anyways, I don't like to leave long posts to prevent boredom for the illiterates. So, in conclusion: Please do not let these bored idiots get to you. They obviously don't have any skills or talents that give them something to do besides raping your formsprings. I even suggest a little sympathy for them. Insulting us way cooler people is all they have.
Come on world, make me angry.
Love Me
Hey folks,
Raise your and if you've been bashed on your formspring page for being "fucking annoying" or for being "a fucking loser?" Please don't actually raise your hand. No one can see you. But the point is, even if you thought you were nice to everyone and anyone, there is someone out there who hates your guts.
Well friends, I have some good news... if you look at it in a "glass half full" way. You all have the joy of having a stalker! *chirp*chirp* Hear me out people.
The way I look at it, you've got to be extremely popular to recieve so many "questions" on your page. The more postings, the higher your status. My friend had several pages of insults because she's a bad singer! It's obviously not true, hence the millions of jabs towards her. I mean, I think I only had one or two non-creative, semi-insulting comments said to me... doesn't really help my ego guys.
Anyways, I don't like to leave long posts to prevent boredom for the illiterates. So, in conclusion: Please do not let these bored idiots get to you. They obviously don't have any skills or talents that give them something to do besides raping your formsprings. I even suggest a little sympathy for them. Insulting us way cooler people is all they have.
Come on world, make me angry.
Love Me
Valentine's Day.... a time of love and suicidal thoughts
*12:27 AM Feb. 15, 2010
Dear fellow women, weirdos, and cat owners...
Valentine's Day has been over for exactly 27 minutes and I couldn't be happier. Don't get me wrong, I love laying in bed doing nothing in my empty apartment eating 17 baby back ribs while trying to not get BBQ sauce on the keys as I facebook stalk tasty treats (boys)... but on Valentine's Day, is when it feels a little pathetic.
I am a single lady (*breaks out into dance*). And before I saw the movie "P.S. I Love You," I was TOTES fine with that! But come on people, after seeing that true love between The Swankey and Sir Butler, how could you NOT want that? So I won't lie to you America, I spent the whoooooole day feeling sorry for my single self. I'll even admit that I sheded a tear or two.
But as I was licking BBQ sauce off my fingers to start in on my box of chocolates, I had an epiphany. It's like I snapped out of a trance when the clock struck midnight. I said to myself "What the hell is wrong with you?!" I was a little startled at the harshness of my own mind... anyways... "WHAT the hell is wrong with you?! You are a banging chick! And you know if you were in a relationship, you'd get bored in exactly two weeks when you noticed a 'gladiator-guy' walk by or a 'John-with-glasses.'" And I said to myself, "Self, you are absolutely right. Sometimes I forget how genius you are."
So as I start this new day watching "Heartbreakers" with my sisters drinking hurricanes, I plan on spending the rest of this year breaking hearts without breaking a sweat. I know I'm so cheeky sometimes. I invite you all to join me. Whether you are chubby, have braces, got a big nose, or acne... it's all about confidence. That goes for you too, fellas. Being a scaredy cat won't get you laid.
Until the next time I'm bored you sexy world =]
Love Me
...... "Me" as in Kylie... you know who I am right??
Dear fellow women, weirdos, and cat owners...
Valentine's Day has been over for exactly 27 minutes and I couldn't be happier. Don't get me wrong, I love laying in bed doing nothing in my empty apartment eating 17 baby back ribs while trying to not get BBQ sauce on the keys as I facebook stalk tasty treats (boys)... but on Valentine's Day, is when it feels a little pathetic.
I am a single lady (*breaks out into dance*). And before I saw the movie "P.S. I Love You," I was TOTES fine with that! But come on people, after seeing that true love between The Swankey and Sir Butler, how could you NOT want that? So I won't lie to you America, I spent the whoooooole day feeling sorry for my single self. I'll even admit that I sheded a tear or two.
But as I was licking BBQ sauce off my fingers to start in on my box of chocolates, I had an epiphany. It's like I snapped out of a trance when the clock struck midnight. I said to myself "What the hell is wrong with you?!" I was a little startled at the harshness of my own mind... anyways... "WHAT the hell is wrong with you?! You are a banging chick! And you know if you were in a relationship, you'd get bored in exactly two weeks when you noticed a 'gladiator-guy' walk by or a 'John-with-glasses.'" And I said to myself, "Self, you are absolutely right. Sometimes I forget how genius you are."
So as I start this new day watching "Heartbreakers" with my sisters drinking hurricanes, I plan on spending the rest of this year breaking hearts without breaking a sweat. I know I'm so cheeky sometimes. I invite you all to join me. Whether you are chubby, have braces, got a big nose, or acne... it's all about confidence. That goes for you too, fellas. Being a scaredy cat won't get you laid.
Until the next time I'm bored you sexy world =]
Love Me
...... "Me" as in Kylie... you know who I am right??
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