I like my mattress FIRM. that's what he said.

Today weather in NY = Monsoon. Which is why, for the first time eva', I took the subway to campus. And remembered why I never take the subway to campus. Because I'm a raging, c***y, control freak who stands on the yellow rough patch next to the tracks and stares at her cell phone for the entire 10 min that she awaits the F train. Did I just switch to 3rd person. Then some, over make-upped bizotch gets all freaked out when I make eyecontact with her overly make-upped face. Then, the announcer voice is all blahblah (i seriously hope they're not warning of a terrorist attack) blahblah, "Overfilled cars are NOT an excuse for inappropriate sexual touching." For serious?!? Then what is? I look over at freaked, inpatient girl to commiserate and she gives me this look that's all "do NOT inappropriately touch me!" She could read my mind!

Then I got out at the wrong part of the station and got soaked walking 7 minutes in the rain. Major sad face. MAJORRRR.

Then this girl at the salad bar in kimmel took 5 million years at the salad bar. I almost bar jumped her. Or stabbed her. OR both. Or neither. Mostly both.

ION channel's back!

Boiled squash, baked bar-b-que chips, chick peas, and depraved indifference. LOVE.

p.s. I'm having inappropriate thoughts about authority figures in my life. Oh, dear.

Oh, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

PROBLEM. The ION channel (aka that amazing channel on which i torture my roommates by making them watch endless weekday night hours of the depravity known as Criminal Minds) is GONE. As is no longer in existence. As in replaced by some half-assed Spanish channel. At first, it was Spanish scene with Criminal Minds speak. Now, it's Spanish scene with silence. Soon, it could be Spanish on Spanish (in Spanish?). Help me. Someone. Some one out there in the nether world ether of cyber space MUST be able to save me!

My roommates don't care. One said so. She hated the show anyways. She's probs closet happy not that its gonezies. Oh, Criminal Minds, where art thou?!?

Side note--we now receive TNT. Which would be nice, if my mind hadn't become completely unaccustomed and unable to process scripted cable shows other than Criminal Minds, Law and Order and NCIS. Oh, Criminal Minds!

p.s. I just saw a movie called "Mishima" about art/beauty/destruction/blood. I wish there was more blood. When I was a kid, I did the finger prick/smear/blood brothers thing. I told my fellow viewers about that during the movie. I don't think they understood. Also, I might of mentioned that the warrior headresses reminded me of sushi guys. There was an Asian in the room. One of only 3 other people watching it. I felt ashamed.

CRIMINAL MINDS--COME BACKKKKKKKKKKKKK! Damn you stoned neighbors, damn you and your unnecessary fuck ups!

Oh puppy, I could just eat your face!

I just found out that the reason I hear strange noises, and feel frigid cold in my beddy room is because my window has been open. Constantly. For the past 3 months. FML.

I also realized, that I am exceptionally white, and wearing a large pale blue parka only serves to enhance the "special" way in which my lower east side neighbors view me.

Also, there ARE straight men at NYU. I SAW ONE. I knew he was straight cause he was macking on a lady! And he looked like he enjoyed it! But, for reals, there are, at max, 12 straight boys at the lovely NYU establishment.

Also, I think I REALLY like commas.

Also, one of my downstairs neighbors makes bomb-diggity dinners which I am a-smelling and I am soooooooooo jel.

Also, walking for 3o min in the wind/rain/snow/cold is NOT okay. Be nice to me weather, I am a lady, after all.

Moving on...UP? (Questioning the Jeffersons...)

So, first a quick word about queens. it's AWESOME. especially jamaica. mostly because i got to see 50 (pronounced fitty) cent's house (the one where he got shot.) Which totes up's my coolness/street cred factor by like, a kagillion. p.s. I did NOT go to Astoria. aka: rich kids pretending they're cool enough to live in Queens. Aka: NYU kids. Aka Astoria = NYU in Queens.

2nd. I went to the tree lighting ceremony. Didn't get to see the tree actually get lit, because I'm a 2 yr old and got bored. However, I managed to flirt the po-pos into letting me cut the line, and upon 20 minutes of arrival wound up in exactly the same place as the couple who'd be there for 3 hours. AND it was raihainy. (rainy).

3rd: Things I've learned this week. Just because you want something, does not mean you can get it. The same goes if the something is a someone with a girlfriend, prettier, smarter, and all around more awesome-er than you are. This does not mean, however, that you are not awesome! No, no. Rather you are just not AS awesome as the awesome-est, awesomnator that said person is already with. And I am learning to accept this. Mostly because I think if I do, the universe will give me something else in return. For instance, I was sad, then I won $52! Thanks, universe! So, here it goes. I officially relinquish. I officially give up on you. Although you don't actually read this blog, so you won't know this, the sentiment remains the same.

So, dear universe, I shall await your kind, kind, reward for my relinquishment. While watching Dr. Phil, I shall wait. Eating banana pudding, I shall wait. Lusting over Matlock, I shall wait.

But for now, dear universe, I shall do my finals, eat chocolate, and await my future reaping of GREATNESS!

Trains, Planes, and all the rest!

I wish I could say I was busy spending time with the love of my life, which is why I have not blogged lately. But unfortunately, no. I am just a lazy asshole. Plus, I totes would've bragged about the hang out, so I mean, that def didn't happen. I WENT TO QUEENS. AS IN JAMAICA. AS IN NOT ASTORIA, AKA NYU IN QUEENS! And I will totes blog about that as well, only first, there is a much more pressing matter to attend to: bus etiquette.

So, I went to Hartford for ye ol' thanksgiving day, and I was astounded--astounded I tell you! by the shitty bus etiquette that I encountered. I didn't use to be so bus sensitivo, no. It all started on a 14 hr bus ride from Cote di'voire (I never could spell that right...) to, the notorious, Accra. It was nighttime, dark, people were just the sleepiest, and we'd been watching a continuous marathon of Nigerian films. My favorite being, "I have a dream, to marry a richhhhhh woman. She will make me powerful, she will make me rich!" (I'm not sure if that's the title, but that WAS a popular refrain in the main song. Suddenly, another kind of movie came on: RAMBO! omg. It was like America was calling me and telling me everything was going to be okay! But no, because one lady decided that she didn't want to see RAMBO. So, instead she turned music on her cell phone and blasted it. I mean, really. And no-one said anything to her! No one even looked at her! And I'm all, is this even really happening?!? WTF. Then I start to make really loud, passive aggressivo remarks about her rude-ness. (Because I can't say anything, because I'm white. And I would be that obnoxious white girl.) But no one says anything! Like 5 hours/20 min later: someone finally speaks to her. She FINALLY shuts off the music--and the driver shuts off Rambo and puts on another Nigerian film! Oh, you win, lady, you win.

This, is why, when two peeps behind me on the way back from Hartford started listening to music minus headphones, I nearly stabbed myself. In the aorta. (holla, Angelina Jolie in Girl Interrupted!)

For convenice sake, I shall make a list of unacceptable bus behavior:
1) NO LISTENING TO MUSIC W/OUT HEADPHONES.
2) IF NO ONE ELSE ON THE ENTIRE BUS IS SPEAKING, DO NOT HAVE A 2 HOUR CONVO WITH YOUR NEIGHBOR.
3) IF YOU ARE A T.A--IT IS NOT OKAY TO GRADE COMPLEX TESTS ON THE BUS, AT NIGHT, WHEN YOU HAVE TO SQUINT TO MAKE OUT THE WORDS IN THE DULL OVERHEAD GLOW. WE WORK HARD. GRADE US IN PROPER LIGHTING, PLEASE.
4) IF AT ALL POSSIBLE, DO NOT SIT NEXT TO ME.
5) DO NOT CUT THE BUS LINE.
6) DO NOT EAT FOOD THAT SMELLS BAD/GOOD.
7) DO NOT HAVE PROLONGED CELL PHONE CONVOS.
8) DO NOT CURSE MORE THAN 12 TIMES IN 1 MIN. THERE ARE CHILDREN ON BOARD.
9) DO NOT SIT NEXT TO ME.

When I finally reached the terminal, and began searching for the subway, these 2 undercover port authority cops called me over and asked how old I was. When I said 20, they looked unbelieving and demanded I.D. One cop then states that I look really young and they thought I was a teenage runaway/homeless while the other begins to write down ALL of my personal license info on a small green card. In order to distract me from this unnecessary invasion of privacy, cop number one begins asking me about my major/career plans/response to cold weather/why I didn't go home to FL for Thanksgiving. I mean, really. If a mysterious package shows up at my house in the SRQ (aka, sarasota, FL) WE WILL ALL KNOW WHO TO BLAME.

Blog Post, Long Overdue. From me, To you.

I am a lazy asshole. I awoke at 8, and stayed in bed til noon, because I had no desire to leave my warm nest that is lofty. I am now eating 1/2 cup of chickpeas and watching an infomercial about the "health master" because I do not have cable. Or I have a secret love attraction to it's maker, Montel Williams. Or both. Or neither. I'm considering making some roasted squash seeds. Or chickpeas. Or both. Not necessarily because I want them, but because I feel like a Native American. Using all the parts of the buffalo/squash. I feel clever, and useful, and inventful, and ultimately hipster all in one. I'm awaiting Matlock, which will start at 4. Still sitting in my Simpsons jammies and a half fur coat.

I have recently become frightened of being outdoors at night. Which is a problem, because it now gets dark at 4pm. This is mostly due to an episode of Criminal Minds in which hoodied dudes shot peeps point blank in the back of zee head. The prob is, that there are a LOT of sketch hoodied looking dudes on the l.e.s. and I not-so-secretly expect each and every one of them to shoot me in the back of my head. So, I keep awk-ly turning around to watch. Just in case.

I discovered last night that it truly is a small world/G-d likes to mess with me/I'm destined to get exactly what I want. Not because I should, but because it's destiny.

Emma Thompson put on a child prosti--tot (child prostitute)/child trafficking art show outside an NYU building. I didn't attend. Mostly because I was offended that I didn't get a formal invitation like Mayor Bloomberg. Speaking of which. I have decided that Mayor Bloomberg should adopt me and pay for my education. He's a billionaire. It's only fair. Oh, jammies. Oh, Sunday. My roommate told me I should go outside to "see the nice weather." The "stuff white people like" blog was right again! WE DO like making people feel guilty for not wanting to go outdoors!!!!!!!!!!!

I mean, if Rachel Maddow of MSNBC was there, I would certainly make an exception.

Stay Tuned for my next blog post entitled: "I've started dreaming of inappropriate sexual relations, rainbow colored butterflies, and angry spiders. Aka I think the 99.6% of my building who smoke zee shit are adding something new..."

New York, NY: it's a ___________ town.

Dear Law and Order: Criminal Intent,
Thanks for filming on my block today! It makes me feel like part of something creepier and more depraved than myself. You, and all the other crime shows out there teach me important life lessons every day. Like, how when the 3 dudes who were standing on the side-walk holding a car bumper in their hands and spray painting it gray asked if I wanted to try, I said no! I mean, really I did, but now I know all about fingerprints and DNA and it looked fo' reals to the sketch. Also, you've taught me how to stand up for myself. Like when Rhome, my puppy was hogging the couch all day, and I said NO! And he didn't listen. But then he got up, and I stole the spot, and I felt extremely mentally superior to him. And then I got up and said, "Don't take my spot!" And he didn't!!! Oh, Law and Order, you opened my eyes to the heinous side of life that I might never have seen. Criminal Minds, CSI, and all the rest may keep me up at nights. But, you, MR. L & O, YOU will always be my first.
Love,
J

Fated Pudding

Noise. At my window. Unusual. Strange. Pigeon encroaching upon my territory, perhaps? I could get up and check, but I am too frightened. Of pigeons. And men with knives. And the dark. Speaking of which, as soon as I turn out my lights and get in bed, it will be dark and I will have no idea of what is encroaching.

Also, I smell bad. I'm not entirely sure why. I feel like it has something to do with long sleeves. And prolonged exposure to the rain.

Also, I NEED to do laundry. Yesterday. But will be forced to settle for tomorrow.

Also, my t.a. just got back to me on my topic for a paper worth 25% of my grade. The email started with, "Well, I won't tell you not to do it, but..." And went on, just as one would expect it too.

Also, I still can't stop obsessing over my unrequited crush. However, I have decided that my life is busy/stressful/horrid enough that am I allowed one little itty bitty outlet. I need some sleepy time. I have accomplished nothing. Except self-pity. Does that count as being productive? I want some banana pudding right about now...

Also, I have to read an article for matryrdom on mon, but it wasn't posted correctly, and I can't email him AGAIN because im already an awk mo-fo. So i just can't read it. Oh, my problems encompass the world!

p.s. I heard an amazingly lovely and serendipitus (sp?) love story today. And I am giving over my unrequited issues to fate! Fate, serve me well! And in return, I will buy you a cup full of banana pudding.

p.p.s. if Sugar Sweet Sunshine ever puts calories on the banana pudding, I will cry. Fo' reals folks.

Sometimes, I'm just awkward (shocking, i know)

Ayeaye maties! So, monday night i was already totes over this week. bad sign seeing as i still had tues, wed, and thurs. and yet somehow, here I am! Still in the nyc, and as much of a self-loathing, cynical, and charming bizotch as ever. i'm re-reading Baumeister's article on unrequited love, in order to remind myself that the reason i cannot have my affection's object is because i am significantly less attractive than said other. And attractive people don't like to date less attractive people. Maybe I should write that down on a sticky note and post it to my fridge for inspiration? Repeat it as my mantra in the starbucks line. "I am unworthy because I am less attractive." Then again, that would seem to interfere with my other Starbucks goal of staring silently at uncomfortable passers-by.

So, i want to learn hebrew. like legit. and i had this brilliant idea that i could ask my israeli martyrdom t.a. to have coffee with me and speak to me in hebrew. but i am le shy, so i awkwardly emailed my awk prof in order to ask his opinion. upon further consideration this seems like a bad idea as A) It will probs look like I'm asking him out on a date. B) It's like free tutoring. C) It could make class awk and D) I actually SUCK at hebrew. (thanks boo for reminding me!!!) So now, i awkwardly await an awkward reply from my awkward prof about an awk situation that is totes completely my fault.

Also, at whole foods today, they were doing a thanksgiving day sampler. and i awkwardly wandered around the salad bar waiting for it to be ready. I consumed: 2 (extremely small) pun'kin' pie pieces. 1 piece of chocolate truffle. Spoonful of stuffing and a spoonful of strange organic whole foods mush. I washed it down with a shot of soup that i ladeled (sp?) in a dressing cup, and then went upstairs to get real food. The stuffing sitch was EPIC. It kept sticking to the spoon and not going on the plate...so i yelled...noooooooooooooooooo!! and the guy used his (gloved) finger to wipe it onto the plate...mmm...complex carbs.

that's enough for today. time to re-read "A lesson in Self Hatred" (aka: "unrequited love.") peace and love to you, RACHEL MADDOW OF MSNBC.

Unrequited Lightbulbs

Today marks the 2 month anniversary of my blog and I. (and me?) and us. For us? Oh, who knows...Speaking of relationships, I just spent the last hour reading a research study about unrequited love. I want nothing more than to curl up in the fetal position with lofty, and my obese cat, Moo. Unfortunately she's too large to climb onto lofty, and all of the lights are out in my room so I am sitting in le dark, which would presumably make it harder for me to smuggle/snuggle Moo up the ladder. The dark is ideal though, for the massive amounts of self-loathing induced by reading about unrequited love. Turns out: I'm just undesirable; delusional; selfish; and CRAAAZAY. Thanks, Baumeister, et al, thanks bunches.

Today I went to Whole Foods. Twice. Ate both my meals there, in fact. The first time, I got a salad bar---and did some HEAVY pre-purchase nibbling in line and by the bar where I was severely eye-contact chastized by some random socially well-adjusted blonde lady. I then proceeded to eat even more while simultaneously wiping my nose on my jean-jacket sleeve. (Classy, true?) I even filled a salad dressing cup with squash soup and poured it onto my salad so I could have soup & salad without paying for the soup! I felt like an a**hole until I came back in the eve for some squash soup (which I had been craving ALL week) and cornbread, and saw some bizotch boho chica down at least 4 dressing containers filled with soup. I mean, even I have more diginity than that. And I mean, come on...

I was morbidly distressed to discover that the squash soup was gone! I got red pepper instead (taking mammouth sips out of the container so I could refill it again and again--even burning my mouth in order to get one over on the man!) I then added cheese and crunchy soy things to my soup, closed the lid, watched the excess oooooze over, wiped my nose on my sleeve, grabbed the 2nd cheapest cornbread slice, and peaced in time to see Desperate Housewives. Phew! Long Day.

My afternoon was filled with walks, an inordinate amount of unsanitary samples at the Tompkins Sq Green Market...holla Tompkins!...and a self-check-out machine at a grocery store with which I had a prolonged conversation regarding my transaction. (One 2-liter diet sunkist that I drank in its entirety that very afternoon.)

So, for now, I will wish you adieu. Night all. Be Good. Stay clean. Vote for universal healthcare. And LOVE Rachel Maddow, as yourself.

BTW: Though it's intense, long-winded and yadda yadda...I'll attach the link to the Unrequited Love study...reading the first 3-4 pages is sufficient to understanding the study itself, as well as the tragedy of unrequited love. Only accessible through ze NYU login, sorry non-NYU'ers. And until next time, dear readers...

http://ezproxy.library.nyu.edu:16705/journals/psp/64/3/377.pdf

The reason I smell like dog...

For those of you who keep up with the Tyra Banks show (which, I do hope, is ALL of you, dear readers), there was recently a show on the subject of "Girl Fights." Girl fights are an alarming new trend regarding girls. Who fight. While someone else who records it on their camera phone. And posts it on Youtube because, as Ms Spielberg announced, "If I don't record it, it didn't happen." There was also her little gem, "If I'm not recording, what's the point of fighting." Which was perhaps, a bit more telling, as she suggested that the main reason ladies wanna fight eachother is to be on Youtube/famous as opposed to just wanting to cut a bitch. The filmmaker extraordinaire's mom was in the slammer, sad...and she liked to film girl fights because she was in control. Anyhoo...today while walking home with my baked goods eating partner-in-crime I heard a yellin and a screaming down the street. We postulated a fight! was taking place. Just then these two dudes walked past us laughing, and one was all, I bet the oldest girl there was 17, and the other dude was all, no 15! hahahha. To which I thought, Tyra, where are you when society needs you the most!? In other words, my door is still covered in graffiti from all Hallows eve (maybe I should invite a famous politician to my street so it will be cleaned up!) and I was informed tonight while watching a "Ripped from the Headlines" Law and Order that a girl was robbed/murdered like 3 doors down from us a couple of years ago and they made it into a Law and Order a few weeks after...I mean, when I said I wanted to be the subject of one of those shows...I was like...kidding.

p.s. I couldn't sit on the couch all day because my dog wouldn't share. Finally, when he got up I stole the spot and felt like MENSA level smart. But now I'm afraid I smell. Like dog. The bad parts.

p.p.s. I had SUGAR SWEET SUNSHINE DESSERTS TONIGHT~!

p.p.p.s I think if Dr. Phil was my lady parts doctor, I would totes go more often. He's really insightful about the girls...

p.p.p.p.s. I hear sirens...girl fight over? Maybe I should look it up on Youtube...

REASONS I NEED PIE

Quick Thoughts:

I realllllllllllllllllllly wanna steal some of my roommate's pie from the fridge. I'm trying to wait until she comes home. Trying. Hard.

I saw a white female driving a small Asian child in a taxi this morning. Aka. The apocalypse is coming.

Starbucks started using the HOLIDAY CUPS TODAY! I mean, that means the holidays are coming! Which, generally depresses more than excites me, but something about those cups turns me on.

A 20 yr old CAS junior jumped from the 10th floor of Bobst this morning. I didn't even think that was still possible with the suicide barriers up. When I came out of Bobst after class, this woman comes up to me and my friend and is all, "Can I ask you a question?" I thought she was lost. But no, she claimed to be a reporter and wanted to ask us questions about the suicide. Seriously? I said I wouldn't answer questions about that and turned away, just as another asshole took a picture in my face. If I end up in Metro North, seriously, imma gonna be pissed.

That woman REALLY bothered me. Maybe more than she should have. She was, "just doing her job." But frankly, her job made me feel even shittier, so I'm not all that sympathetic.

My tummy hurts, but I want dessert.

I have another martyrdom paper to do. Will probs just watch NCIS instead and snuggle myself in lofty. Side note--my nat sci midterm yesterday F***ED ME IN THE ASS. I mean, it was an issue. A bad issue. Also, I had a nat sci presentation today about the benefits of corn ethanol, which apparently, really sucks. So I kept repeating "America." We grow corn in America. It helps American farmers and the American economy. Basically, if you don't support corn ethanol, you don't love America, and you're a terrorist/traitor. Hey, if it worked for Bush...

Day after Halloween

So yesterday was all Hallows eve in the NYC...aka a shitshow on wheels. Now, I'm not all anti-halloween, or anti-fun, or anti-anonymous sex in animal costumes. However, the only thing east of me is the Projects and my roommate told me the night before Halloween that her friends from the projects warned her not to walk around alone for a couple of days because the gangs were doing initations: aka "cutting up girls." Now, frankly, I don't do well with the idea of being "cut." I also, do not do well with the idea of being told that I can't walk alone in my own neighborhood for fear of said cutting. Apparently it started on the 30th with Bronx area girl cuttings. So, I spent the night in my roommate's west village apartment, ate my KICKASS free chipotle burrito, drank vino (slightly excessively), drunkenly stumbled across a police barracade in order to find insomnia cookies, dodged the rain and de-individuized, costumed, individuals, watched Californication and passed out! Successful evening I should think!

Then I wandered home at 9 am. Made a douche out of myself by commenting on how the clock in the kitchen was off by an hour and not equating that to daylight savings time change. p.s. ALL of my timepieces automatically change (laptop, cell phone) it's like the machines are taking over the wooooooooooooorld! I would never have known! Then I discovered someone had graffitied the hell out of my apartment building (which makes me UBER hardcore), and I said obnoxious things loudly in Starbucks while others listened on. Double success!!!

Midterm tomorrow. FAIL. (opposite of success). Oh, dear.

Tomorrow is Halloweeennnnnnnnnn!

So, this week = midterms = terror= erotic lust for lofty, my only companion, and snuggle time with Moo, my overweight cat, who is just too soft for words!

When I eHow'ed "how to get over a crush" a few weeks ago, it, sagely responded, to go out on a date. I then eHow'ed "how to find a date" and it suggested to ask friends. So, I am now putting out a blanket request for a date. (Which I will then, blog about.) And it will be amusing, and self-deprecating, like the remainder of my life/blog.

Also, in an effort for self improval, I will lay off the baked goods and try to get a job. My last job interview did NOT result in a hiring. Perhaps because my facebook status that day was a line from "Baby, I'm an anarchist." Or maybe because when she "presented me" to the rest of the staff members I didn't ask them enough about their deepest, darkest, fears. Anyhoo, I am currently late (for a lunch, not my period, suggesting a mightily unwanted pregnancy). So, I shall depart. Until, next time, friends, be safe. Be warm. Be sluts. That's all I ask.

p.s. I am also attempting to pluck my eyebrows. Which is like a huggggggge act of self-improvement as well. I think I deserve banana pudding for this...

Romance in the Air

Dear balloon boy,
I wish you really were up in that balloon. That would have been really cool. And I would have liked you lots and wanted to have your babies. I know you're only 6, balloon boy, but in 14 years, you'll be 20, and I'll be 34, and then it won't be so awkward at dinner parties. RACHEL MADDOW MSNBC. Balloon boy, I can be a bit obsessive, I'll admit, and sometimes I talk to myself and stare catatonically at other people in order to make them feel uncomfortable. Sometimes I hear my neighbors screaming, "F*** you!" overandover and wonder if they're about to shoot someone. Sometimes I see men palming knives who ask me for a quarter and I jump and run away quickly. Sometimes I think I'm liberal, and then I realize that in NY I lean a bit more conservative. Sometimes I just want a Whole Foods salad for dinner. Sometimes/ all the time I wake up in the morning and count how many hours until I can go back to sleep. Oh, balloon boy, if you had really been up in that balloon, you would have been the kind of man I could spend the rest of my life with. Oh, balloon boy, I know you're a child, I'm being hypothetical not pedophilical. I have 2 more weeks of midterms, balloon boy, enough work to last me a lifetime, an unrequited inappropriate crush to keep me entertained and enough self-loathing to lift a large, misshapen balloon, balloon boy. So good night to you, dear balloon boy, and to you, Rachel Maddow of MSNBC...may your life always be full of hot air.

Love,
J

My inorganic, irrelevant life

Every Monday and Wednesday, before we all file into the Bobsty classroom of LL50 for talk about martyring and such, there is another group of children in the room. (Smarter, perhaps? Grad students?) Who take a little class called inorganic chemistry. Everyday the class runs over, and everyday eager students approach the prof and talktalktalktalk to him. We awkwardly stand outside, self-conscious of the fact that we have no comprehension of the class in which they sit. Last Wed, I remarked to my prof that the class before ours was "intense." When he asked what I meant, I said, "Look at the board. I don't understand any of it." It was then that my prof approached the other prof and asked, half jokingly, whether any of it was real. Unfortunately, this started the prof on a 15 minute diatribe/rant/explanation of inorganic chemistry. I could not see my prof's face, but I had to imagine it looked something like mine when I was asked if I ate the last (dog) cookie.

Then--silence. Until inorganic chem prof inhaled a deep breath and said, as if coming to this realization after quite a bit of soul searching, "What you guys are doing is JUST as relevant as what I do." By relevant, I suppose he meant to life. And the patronizing reality of being told that I'm relevant to life made me burst out laughing. The chem prof took my laughter as disbelief of my own relevance and launched into an explanation of what he presumed our class was about, and how...IT REALLY DID...matter in life, and such. Then my prof, biting his tongue, said, "We're not getting to that until next semester. You're ruining the surprise."

All in all it was awkward. All in all I now LOVE this patronizing inorganic man.

All in all I am now relevant.

All in all I have TWO (unfinished) midterm papers for martyrdom due tom!

All in all my mommy is coming to visit me this weekend for her 50th birthday!

All in all, happy birthday, mommy! Much love.

Diet Soda Escapades/ No dignity

RACHEL MADDOW MSNBC.

I would just like to start this out by wishing aloud that I was more of a slut so every month when I got my period it would be such an overwhelming relief that I didn't even mind the sheer annoyance of it. I am not. Currently. So much a slut.

Also, I am AWAKE. Attempting, in vain, to write one of my TWO midterm papers for martyrdom due Fri. Which really just means that I'm listening to "Baby, I'm an Anarchist" on repeat on Youtube and facebook f***ing, and eating Sunchips, and going on quests to find diet Sunkist that involve multiple convenience stores, mean Asians (I mean, I apologize if I offend, but I only had $2 and the a*hole wouldn't just give it to me for that like EVERY other store owner on the l.e.s. Actually most of them are less than 2.) So then I went to John's Convenience store to visit my boo (John?) who offered to order it for me, but, alas, did not have it at the moment. So, then I went to Duane Reade where the diet elixer was $2.28. More reasonable, yet still over the 2. So, I picked up a sprite zero (which my roommate later informed me has no caffeine which seemingly fucks with my drink caffeine to stay awake and write essay plan.). But apparently, the tax is astronomical and the $1.89 bottle would come to $2.11. $0.11 over my limit. omg. omg. omg. Just then, as all hope had been seemingly lost, Elias, the cashier, ie my savior, swiped his store/member card thingy bringing the price down to $0.99 and therefore the total to $1.13. I mean, I lovelovelove him. So I took $0.75 of the change and left the other $0.12 in case some one was short. PAY IT FORWARD, MAN.

Today, Rachel Maddow MSNBC, I also had a laundry adventure/escapade which I will not get into now, but rest assured it involved being tricked by the cashier at the chinese market, then saved by the other cashier at the chinese market who didn't know today was f*** with the jaclyn day, a weird (english speaking? russian?) who doesn't carry pocket change. LOTS of stairs. Idiocy. Running. And a certian girl on 3 who likes to steal and put shit covered blankets in with your already drying CLEAN clothes--just for kicks.

omg. I will never sleep again. Until, next time, Rachel Maddow of MSNBC. Love.

Rachel Maddow MSNBC

I am writing from a curious, yet uncomfortably perched position, as my pseudo cat is lying, comfortably perched on my overly warm, right thigh. Today during my walk home, I heard some people shouting, continually, and eventually turned. The girl looked extraordinarily embarrassed, covered her mouth (with her hand) and turned her head, as the cab rounded the corner. It was quite peculiar because I thought she was yelling, "GARY! GARY! GARY!" As if she thought my name was Gary--meaning I had a small penis. On second thought, she could have been shouting Kerry! There's no way to know for sure. I'm not sure if being mistaken for a man, even though it's dark, should still make me feel badly about my womanhood.

I didn't see Rachel Maddow today. Mostly because I didn't have tickets, but also because the tickets were $30, I'd have had to take the subway, and it was early, raining, and burrrrrrrr. I still love Rachel Maddow, more than my own life, and harbor unfortunately derranged and intense thoughts about befriending her. Oh, Rachel Maddow of MSNBC. I Love you: Rachel Maddow of MSNBC. You are the greatest! Rachel Maddow, of MSNBC. I want to have your babies, Rachel Maddow of MSNBC. I REALLY hope you're vain enough to google yourself, Rachel Maddow, of MSNBC. (or at least, your girlfriend is.)

My cat filled thigh is sooooooooo warm. My cat's name is Moo. She is a fatty. I love her lots.

Boys' Club

There's a man outside watching TV and laughing far too loudly when: it's almost midnight, I'm studying and I have to be awake again in 6 hours. AS IF I need another reason to hate all men. Rachel Maddow is a Goddess. She's on MSNBC. Rachel Maddow. MSNBC. Rachel Maddow. (p.s. I'm trying to get Rachel to notice my blog. I figured if she ever googles herself, and this comes up, and she sees how extraordinary I am, she'll fall in love and make me her personal assistant/blogger/love slave). p.s. Rachel, you should read a few of my older blog posts too, to get a feel for the real me...

Today was a day for the boys...

Boy 1: Really short. Talks too much. Wore tight pants the other day that accented his "package" to such an extent that that's all I can think about every time I see him now.

Boy 2: G-d help me. I KNOW his voice sounds like a girl. I KNOW he's a boy. But everytime he speaks I think, who's the lady commenting? And then I turn around and am all, whoops.

Boy 3: Breathing loudly next to me ALL nat sci. How f***ing dare he! Fo' real.

Oh, boys. I hardly notice you exist at NYU. STAY STRONG.

Shut up, neighbor. I will beat you down.

And Yet Again

I am supposed to be writing a paper about this:

IE. Gender and early Christian Martyrdom.

Instead I am doing this...(Erotic Child Dance Party with slightly unwilling parties.)

I.E. Listening to my Tegan and Sara Station on Pandora. Eating mini Snickers. And contemplating emailing my Prof to explain to him how brilliant I am and how that's getting in the way of my paper actually being good.

2.5 days sans facebook! When do I get my first sobriety chip? Ooooh chips...

Kill the man. I don't know what the fuss is. I'm just looking for some California Justice

This morning I saw a man shove a plastic spoon into each one of his (two) socks. As I turned (innocently) to watch. His creepster friend leered at me.

My shoes always come untied when I walk. It's a problem.

I hate insurance companies. I refuse to go to the doctor even though I'm reasonably sure I have a massively large intestinal parasite growing within me because I hate insurance companies. I tell myself this is not a problem. Because babies are, in effect, stomach parasites. And people really like them.

This is the end for today. I hope you enjoyed. I know I did.

P.S. I now watch Californication. I hope this makes me a cooler human being.

P.P.S. 1.5 days sans facebook and counting! I'm trying to exercise a bit of self-control. Actually, that's a lie. I was getting too depressed every time I signed onto facebook and had no notifications. Sad. I know.

I think I'm getting Swine Flu.

So, I just ran into Matthew Broderick. On West Houston. While alone. At 11:30 pm. Carrying only a single roll of toilet paper. I had one of those, "Hey, you're Matthew Broderick" moments. And after passing him completely, admonished myself for not having yelled out, "Hey, you're Matthew Broderick." Then, I smiled. And was happy, because I realized he already knew he was Matthew Broderick, so really, I would just sound like a shit-head. I was carrying a single roll of toilet paper because I was out at my apartment, and needed to go home and shit my pants. So, my friend gave me her roll. It was an interesting experience walking home along--only a roll of toilet paper as company. I got many interested looks from passers-by, and was reminded, forcibly, of the childhood book, nay fairy tale, "Everybody Poops."

This is my New York.

After I got home I received an email regarding submissions for the NYU in Ghana student guide. We were all asked to submit a paragraph. I haven't decided if I'm going to do it. Mostly because I'm illiterate. (See above). But also, because I find it incredibly painful to try and squeeze an entire experience into a single paragraph. (I can't even squeeze a Matthew Broderick sighting into one sentence. And let's be honest, Mr. Sarah Jessica Parker is cool and all, but...) Whether the experience was good, bad, intense, lame, I can't even begin to choose words that would feel in any way adequate. In any way relevant or coherent. I don't analyze very well in the moment. And afterwards, my analysis is tainted by my own desire for self preservation. I say that happiness is just a synonym for contentment. And if you're content...not constantly striving for something more, something better, you may as well be dead. So, I exclaim in earnest, I do NOT wish to be happy. Or perhaps I do. But I see it as such an unattainable ideal that my mind forces me to dismiss it as bullshit.

I have continual thoughts about someone. One friend tells me that maybe thinking about someone is the universe's way of telling you they're thinking about you too.
Another says that perhaps I need to do ALL the thinking because the other person doesn't give a shit about me. The former is definitely more comforting to my supposed delicate sensibilities. But assuming it were true, I'm not even sure if I'd be happy about it.

Ah, it is late. I have a mini Snickers in my tum, and a phone a-charging next to me. Until later, dear readers. May your lives be filled with dense caloric intake and yellow submarine dreams.

Sometimes I think rapists will climb in through my fire escape.

So I've discovered that frequenting the same local convenience stores has lead to all of the employees at all of the said establishments asking me where I live. Which, if I were like 2 billion blocks away, I could just answer far to...but when I live right across the street, becomes a bit more bothersome. Especially because they know exactly where I am. When I'm home. When I'm coming home late, etc. I really hope they'll use this knowledge for good. (world peace, and being my own personal body guard) as opposed to evil. raping/murdering/pilaging me.

So, there is this sound. This beeping. It comes in 3's. Beepbeepbeep. And it will continue for hours on end. It's outside my apartment building. I have no idea what it is. And I have no control over it. Consequently I am going insane. I want to murder beep maker. With my bare hands.

This afternoon I had a lovely brunch with my boo and her mother. (Boo-by which I mean friend, that I spend enough time with to qualify as a relationship.) I had an egg dish and we ordered an entire pitcher of yummy sangria. And the waiter didn't card me! Score! I always find it easier to get to know new people while mildly intoxicated!

Then I went home. And legit like legitlegit nearly peed my pants...I had to go soooooooo bad. Then I napped for an hour and woke up all headached (sangria + lack of water + sleep = slight dehydration known as midly/half-assed brunch time hangover)...took excessive amounts of pain pills...and ventured out to meet some extended family members for din din. Which was phenom and dim summy...but I felt like an ass for being the ONLY vegetarian and thus making us order extra dishes because only I wouldn't eat the carnivorous ones.

Now, I should be reading about early Christian martyrs. But rather I am blogging. And before this I was vainly channel surfing to find something on our TV. We do not have cable. This is a much more arduous task than it should be. Before that I was going on a find diet sunkist adventure. And before that I was eating mini-snickers and napping. They should make a Lifetime movie of my life.

Inappropriately attached to Taylor Swift.

Jaclyn needs sleep like a hoe needs leopard stilhettos. And yet, she cannot, because she just got home. Her cell phone is dead, the cell phone + charger won't make it up onto lofty. And no phone means no alarm, means no getting up in 6 hours. Sad. So I figured I'd write a short, delightfully self-indulgent blog post while I wait, and watch my hours of precious sleep slowly ticking by...

So, this girl in the Starbucks line yesterday in full on glam gear, skirt, nice shirt, nice coat, done-up hair and make-up--standing behind me in my 10 day old jeans (by which I mean, worn 10 days without being washed) and sneaks was on her cell phone. Telling her friend quote, (I know I just need the symbol, but the word increases the flow...) "So, I'm wearing flats today. I know, they're cute and black, but I just feel so un-feminine." It was 9 in the morning. Cue rage.

The other day there was a very hot man in Silver in a slightly douchey chef shirt with an accent who asked me where the bathroom was. Not very romantic, perhaps, but it made my day. Mostly because I pretended he asked me where it was because he wanted to f*** me senseless in it. Aw, sweet daydreams of 20 year olds.

When sketch looking men walk alone at night closely behind me with only one arm shoved deep inside a puffy coat, I think he is palming a knife/gun and is planning on robbing/raping/r-murdering me. I don't appreciate this. I nearly got hitted by a car running away from said sketcher.

I know this goes against everything I ever learned in health class, but some people REALLY ARE hotter when they're smoking. :) LOVE

SLOW WALKERS. IM NOT KIDDING. I WILL BEAT YOUR COLLECTIVE ASSES.

I DON'T BELIEVE IN GLOBAL WARMING. I MEAN, IT'S COLD OUTSIDE.

I DO BELIEVE IN BANANA PUDDING. I THINK I NEED TO STOP EATING SO MUCH OF IT THOUGH, AS DAIRY MAKES MY PARASITE RIDDEN BODY WANT TO VOMIT. EXCESSIVELY. YES, THERE IS A DISTINCTION OF EXCESSIVELY VOMITING. I'VE LEARNED.

A day for Odes.

An ode to slow walkers:
Oh, slow walkers on the NYC street.
When I see you, I want to punch the back of your head.
That would be a real treat!
Without my morning Starbucks brew,
I'm not sure if there'd be retraint.
You're just lucky I have dining dollars to buy Starbucks coffee,
Or I'd beat you until you faint.

An Ode to Bernie Madoff:
Why, oh why, did the person running the scholarship I was going to apply for have to invest with you and lose all their money and cancel the scholarhsip and deprive me of my chance to be slightly less in the quicksand of insurmountable death, debt and sadness?

An ode to myself:
You are a crazy bizotch.
The end.

P.S. Vik Keenan. My ex-NYU advisor. If you ever read this: where did they send you? Are you still alive? Can we be (facebook) friends now? I miss you. I sometimes form unhealthy attachments to people. I REALLY miss you.

P.P.S. I eHow('ed) "how to get over a crush." One of the first suggestions I got was to go on a date. I then eHow('ed). "how to find a date." I have a feeling it's going to be a long semester...

I'm waiting until the last possible second to urinate.

Things currently on my mind.

1) I NEED to lay off the baked goods. Especially banana pudding. Which isn't necessarily a valid baked-goods categorization. But it is good. And contains baked items. And I am eating far too much of it.

2) Why do armpits smell so much worse when you wear a tank top? Wouldn't they smell better because they're getting aired out?

3) Starbucks perfect oatmeal truly is perfect. Mostly because it fits into the lid of the coffee cup perfectly, so you only need one hand to hold both. But also, because you can steal the packets of nuts and eat them as snacks throughout the day. And sweeten with either brown sugar or sweet-n-low.

4) I just found out it's sweet-n-low. Not sweet-and-low. I'm not sure how I feel about this revelation.

5.) I'm obsessing over the thought that I need to work on being less obsessive.

6.) There is a random man in my apartment. I just heard him come in. I'm hoping this is the mysterious dog walker I was told about. If not, uhm, this shall be quite an eventful night. I am hiding in my room. Snuggled on lofty.

7.) Stanley Milgram's shock experiment = the BEST psych porn ever! Specifically when you watch it on an overhead projector. And see all the normal folk give increasingly painful/presumably lethal shocks to some random dude because a guy in a white coat told them to. The intensity grows and grows until finally they're let in on the tricksies, light up a smoke, and let out a sigh. So, like porn. Except hotter.

8) I REALLY miss the days when psychology had no ethics. And people smoked in the lab. I mean they just look so darn cool.

9) So, Starbucks has been advertising this "taste test" of their regular brewed coffee and their new instant brand. I thought it would be all...can you tell the difference?!?!? If you can, we give you a free cup. But alas, no. They give you one small ass cup of their coffee then one cup of hot water for you to make your instant. Then you take them to the table. And drink. And there's no competition. Or testing of any kind. But you do get free coffee...

10) Starbucks closes at 11. Half the lights were off at 9. I mean, we're college students. Turning the lights off won't actually make us leave.

11) I need to pee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Blow Pops. Blow Jobs. Connection?

Oh, dear. I have to be awake again in 5 hours. This is why I drink Starbucks. Like the blood of Christ. As in religiously. Today the Starbucks line circled the entire store. And this random ass cop (who cut the entire line, mind you) goes, "Man, I can't believe they're waiting in this long line. They must really be thirsty." Actually, I'm probably mis-quoting him, because I can't remember exactly what he said, but I feel like this is probs pretty close.

P.S. As soon as my Hebrew teacher's daughter has her baby in Israel my teach is peacing out for a week to be with her. She was already due. Last Friday. Still no baby. Still class. I keep having these thoughts that: what if the baby never comes?!!? I mean, is that possible? That the baby could just never be born? Oh, dear baby, you are not even born yet and already you have more control over my happiness than I can ever hope to.

#3. Saying I'm sorry. Jeez. What a strange, strange concept. Today someone said they were sorry when I bumped into them. Then someone else when they bumped into me, then someone who was standing in front of the trash can but NOT blocking me. Then some bizotch who was hogging the mirror in Kimmel didn't say sorry, and I was p'oed. But think about it. How many times a day do we say sorry for things that aren't our fault? Interesting concept. In Ghana, people say sorry to you all the time. Most of the time you're not sure why. Maybe they're just sorry for your misfortunate shape. You don't know. Sorry.

Well adjusted girl in martyrdom class was being all well-adjusted in class again. And she has these really big, pretty, deer-caught-in-headlights kinda eyes. I just don't appreciate her brand of perfection. It bores me.

My martyrdom teacher told me a few weeks ago that he'd found an old assignment of mine. He asked if he could read it. I said sure, but then e-mailed him with a bit of a qualification? for what I was attempting to do. He then e-mailed me back critiques of my project. Without reading it. When I got it back today I read my actual teacher's comments from two years ago. It was verbatim what new teacher had said, hmmmm....New teacher has not blocked his facebook! Nuff said. I like him.

Tonight I made beets AND chickpeas for dinner! And I ate an apple and a bag of sunchips! Basically, I am the shit. There were soooo many dishes tho.

P.P.S. Mariska Hargitay is still hot. I love cuddling my pets. My roommate gave me a Tootsie pop and condoms! (It's like still living in NYU housing!!!!!) and I have a paper due tomorrow and need to be up at 6. It is currently 12:36 and paper is still not done. Nighty night!

Thoughts on Yom Kippur

The very first thing that appeared on my phone's internet's welcoming page thingy yesterday was the astounding and upsetting news that 162 new species of snakes were discovered. 162 new species! For anyone who knows me, snakes are my thing. The thing that makes me want to cry in a corner and curl up in a nice smelling warm blanket. I have to be honest here, folks, the fact that the new snakes appeared on Yom Kippur, and that I've been spending all my waking moments reading the bible for martyrdom class, my first thought was NEW snakes! omg. this must = the end of the world as we know it. and i feel fine. I went on about my day...did laundry, ate a $9 make your own salad at Ray's Pizza on St. Marks, then went to the Reform Services that NYU was having. They were much better than I originally expected. I remember two years ago when I went to the reform Rosh Hashana serivce, that there was a certain disconnect. I wanted so badly to feel something. Some kind of meaningful; transendential (sp?) experience that only sounds bullshit when other people say it but is actually really amazing and beautiful when you're lucky enough to get one yourself. I'm not saying that's what happened last night. But, I was able to connect, to just be in the service in the moment, in the day, even if it was only for a few moments. Afterwards I got to hang out with some friends for a bit, then went home, facebook stalked and reveled in this little momentary bit of peace I was feeling.

Yom Kippur is about asking for forgiveness. Being able to give forgiveness. Admitting your sins, repenting, and praying to be put in the Book of Life for the following year. To experience happiness and joy and peace. Last night I found out that someone I had known just died of a heroin overdose. I didn't know him that well. We'd only hung out a few times, but he was one of those people that made you feel connected to him even if you only knew him briefly. There is nothing I can say to bring peace to his family, or to his close friends, but I included a poem (posted below) that was posted on his facebook wall a few days after he died. I think it expresses my feelings in a way that I never could:

"You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you dies each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason."- Ernest Hemingway

RIP Matt. And to all those lost this year. May their loved ones who remain find some kind of peace as well. To an easy and meaningful fast everyone. And a sweet, good, New Year.

Chickpeas in Paradise

If my entire life is laid out in the stages of grief (as seen in Grey's Anatomy), I believe that I currently reside in the stage called acceptance. I accept that I am that girl who believes she should quickly down the half full PBR currently in her fridge, because having it spilled is more of a travesty than being that girl who pre-games for coffee with her friend. At Aroma. Which is the most fabulous Israeli Starbucks eva', except for the devastating fact that half a sandwich costs more than my last abortion. I jest. It doesn't cost THAT much.

Last night, I ventured out on this mode of transportation called the "subway" in order to reach the upper west side: or, as I like to call it: Columbia students, Jews, and women who run with jogging strollers full of yoga mats, granola, and nalgenes. I can say this only half-mockingly, because I myself eat granola, and use a nalgene. Yoga, alas, is too far out of my body's reach. I also eat chickpeas. Just chickpeas for multiple meals a day, but I'm not sure if that makes me a hipster or just desperately poor. Anyhoo...the subway was a blast! Between construction, weekend hours and late-night hours I spent more time waiting for the train than I would have if I just walked the distance. First I had to find the A train. Which there were NO signs for because the A train was running on the F track. I wait 20 min for a train. It's an F. Damn my luck. I wait another 15 for an A. Take the A one stop, then find out that because of construction I have to get off. Which I do. And take the F. (perhaps the one I didn't take at my first stop?) Then I take the F one step, then transfer to the 1. Whoo. Was I getting tired!

There was this one girl sitting across from me who didn't understand the concept of eye make-up or something, because she put too much on in an area where it was un-needed and looked perpetually frightened. When we passed one stop, her make-uped eyes grew large and sooo full of fright I nearly yelled out on her behalf. Stop! Dear train, stop! This overly frightened woman needs medical attention! I'm not sure if she was generally worried and the make-up just drew attention to it, or if it was all due to her make-up that she looked like she just shit her pants every time we passed a stop, or someone sat down next to her, or I breathed too loudly.

Speaking of train antics. Remember that Law and Order: SVU where that guy in the subway "rubs up against" / rapes all those women? So, I was sooo convinced that creepazoid numero 4 was going to do that to me last night. He had the perfect angle, and had been STARING me down on the platform. And all I could think was, you do it, I will DROP you. Punk. (I generally use the word punk when I'm feeling all badass...) There was also couple with dog who was crawling around, child who did a pole dance, Asian teen who was voguing, large man with facial hair in a fdora (spelling??) this guy who announced to the car that he was laid off and his wife and child needed money for food. Which was a lot more compelling before he came back and did the same speech with different ages for the children and different hometown. Also, it rained. I ate Italian food, discussed obsessive tendencies with my love, was blown off by mutual aquaintances who had no idea who I was when I ran into them on the street, and (after spending over 2 hours getting home/not going to bed until 3 am) didn't awaken this morning until almost 2 pm! Then I did laundry because I only had one clean pair of panties, ate chickpeas, and am now preparing to go to temple! Raise a glass to Yom Kippur everyone. To an easy fast, and repentance: international edition.

Yesterday (wait, was that a Beatles song?)

Dear yesterday,

You were a shit show. Lucky for you, PBR was there to make me feel all warm, cheap, snuggly, and alcoholic on the inside. YOU made me get up at 6 am in order to go to an 8 am recitation where my t.a thought it was appropriate to have an NYU icebreaker about our favorite movies/books/bands...I do believe I burned a hole in the chalkboard behind her with my scalding look. I gulped down my Starbucks, which began to make me feel a bit more human, but was still appalled when, apparently, I was expected to talk/discuss/and think during said recitation. Then, rec't was over, and it was time for my 9:30 social psych class with a 9:30 social psych quiz. Apparently, the caffeine decided to come at me all at once (something to do with the oatmeal, perhaps...or maybe the 5 sweet-n-lows I used between said oatmeal and coffee consumption?!?) I looked like I was on speed. I couldn't stop shaking and my prof looked semi-concerned about my physical well-being. Well, yesterday, I TOOK that quiz. Then I started to get REALLY hot during class in my tanktop/jacket combo...which I HAD to wear because I didn't shave. Then my stomach started loudly making angry hungry noises, so I satiated it with a package of Starbucks oatmeal mixed-nuts...

That, dear yesterday, would have been enough. But no. Nononon. I just had to have a Hebrew quiz, which I found out about the day before. Realistically, I should have done fine. I memorized ALL the words, and even translated the word bank into English! But, yesterday, you ensured that my mind was too sleeps deprived to understand the sentences I had to fill in. You further ensured that I made an ass out of myself. Twice. While simultaneously creating such phrases as "culture" eyed. Instead of "wide" eyed. And Sentences like, "Man-made creation, you were already in Israel?" Which I suppose semi-makes sense. If I were on acid, and talking to my shoes. All while on the verge of shitting my pants (per, usual).

Oh, yesterday. I know you felt bad. Which is why you allowed me to spend time with my dear friend, Fefayefaye. And drink the night away with my roomie and PBR while watching Grey's Anatomy and thinking about sex and death and how hot McSteamy looks in the shower.

Yesterday, I know we have had our differences, but I just wanted you to know, that I forgive you. And that I want us to work through this.

And also, I want to have coffee with D soon. And if you make this happen. And if you make it go well. And if you keep me well stocked with PBR everyday for the rest of my life, maybe, just maybe, we can be friends again.

Love,
Jaclyn

The blog post I almost didn't write because I am sleepy, forgetful, and need to awaken in 6 hours.

5 things on my mind right now:
1)I am JUST the sleepiest.
2) I spoke in Hebrew today! And was told I sounded like a Simpson's Character. I'm not entirely sure what that meant. Something about chain smoking...or my coffee...which so cruelly ran out on me again this morning.
3) I would really like chocolate right now.
4.) I re-wear the same pants and jacket a lot of times before I wash them. Both are currently covered in yeast because of a laboratory explosion, but I'm still going to wear them tomorrow.
5.) $1 is too much for a single roll of Scott toilet paper.
6.) I really hope that was tofu in the veggie dumplings and not pork.
7. )I have 2 quizzes tomorrow and haven't studied for either...
8.) I have impure thoughts.
9.) I hope these will lead to impure dreams.
10) I think inappropriate things at inappropriate times.
11) I would hook-up with Christopher Meloni AND Mariska Hargitay.
11.5) At the same time.
12) NCIS is back!
13) My martydom teacher thinks I'm a creeper.
14.) My nalgene smells like pool water.
15) I need to bathe.
16) I REALLY don't want to.
17.) I feel the need to shit my pants/vomit...but it is not all that off-putting anymore...
18.) I wonder if anyone actually reads my blog...
19.) Age I slept in my own vomit.
20.) I NEED TO GO TO BED NOW.
21.) IF YOU READ THIS. PLEASE COMMENT. ALSO, I TURN 21 THIS YEAR. AND THAT'S THE NUMBER I STOPPED AT. COMMENTCOMMENTCOMMENTCOMMENT AND IF I EVER GET TO HOOK UP WITH A LAW AND ORDER SVU DICK (DETECTIVE), I'LL AGREE TO POST THE PICS. (If you comment...:))

In lieu of writing a paper about martyrdom...

Again, deep sigh, I have a paper due tomorrow. And instead of doing it, I am here with all (two) of you. Listening to Dashboard Confessional whine on Pandora. Even deeper sigh.

So, first off, I HAVE AN INTERNAL MOUTH COLD SORE. And, no, thank you for silently asking, I do NOT have herpes. I bit the inside of my mouth and because my (and the two of you all... all's, your all's...?) mouths are sess? pools (why I am only using words I can't spell tonight?!?) of germy germs... it got all red, and infected, and swelly. In truth, this is not true. But tiny mouth sores always end up feeling like big throbbing balls of life sucks even when they're absolutely miniscule. Like Dick Cheney's man parts...or so I've been told... Like large pimples on your forehead, the morning of the "big dance." Come on, even I remember what's it like to be young...

So, I lovelovelove my social psych professor. A little because he's funny, but mostly because he reminds me of my rabbi who is one of my favorite people on the planet.

In my haste to tell of the many wonders that I discovered yesterday during martyrdom class, I forgot to mention that on my way home yesterday I was smacked in the face by a small, blue, rubber, ball that fell out of the sky. It bemused me for a second, then I kept walking. I wasn't sure where it came from, if it was intended to hit ME, or if I was a paranoid, self-obsessed a-hole. (or all of the above, naturally.) But, I live in NY, so I kept a walking...

On my way to campus (the first time, not the second time after I had to run home mid-day to vomit/shit-my-pants...I mean, stomach parasites, like small children...gotta love them) I listened to Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Which is one of the most fabulous musicals ever, and makes me think of my besties and transsexuals and Germany all at once! (Also, my A.P. lit teacher. Because of the Berlin Wall reference in the show!--and that be the only reason...heart you tadtad!)

So, I mean, I once heard the Starbucks workers bitch about people not turning off their iPods to order, so I always make a conscious effort not just to turn mine off, but to take out the earbuds as well. Except, my ears are weirdly shaped, and damaged from forcibly shoving earbuds in them all day, so both extraction and re-insertation are quite painful. Today I took out only one earbud. I am happy with this compromise. Also, I get charged for tap water. So, I mean, there's only so much sad I'm gonna feel.

INTERNAL MOUTH SORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Everyday I put 3 sweet-in-lows in my grande starbucks coffee. Everyday I open them simultaneously. And pour them in simultaneously. Today I did not rip far enough down the package and the sugar substitute took too long to drain into the cup, so I gave up like 1.5 sweet-in-lows strong and peaced. I regreted that decision ALL day. Tomorrow, I'll spend the extra 30 seconds. It' worth it in the long run...

I HATE SLOW WALKERS. THEY WALK TOO SLOW. SPEED UP. AND IF YOU CAN'T SPEED UP FOR SOME REASON, DO NOT WALK ARM IN ARM WITH OTHER SLOW WALKERS SO FAST WALKERS ARE UNABLE TO PASS YOU FOR MULTIPLE BLOCKS. I MEAN IT.

love,
Jaclyn

I'm oft' distracted by shiny things...

Today I would like to start off this blog post with magical insights that came to me during my martyrdom class...

1) omg did teacher paint two of his fingernails on his left hand purple?!? I REALLY need to know. But if I ask him, and the coloring is a result of say, swine flu. or lepercey, that might be a bit more awk than I can handle. Once, I dropped a water bottle on my finger. In Jerusalem. And our guard/medic looked at it gushing blood and said, "I have seen people lose hands!" Uhm, thanks for the visual dude. Eventually nail stopped bleeding. Turned blue. And needed to be forcibly yanked off my finger. Nail bed was bare for a while...then eventually grew back. You can't even tell the difference! But don't worry, I have pictures! :) (p.s. upon hearing this story, my prof, aka ex-mayor of Accra was VERY moved by my bad-ass-ness. He didn't need to say it. I just knew.)

2). FLASH. OMG SOMETHING SHINY. I AM SO EFFING DISTRACTED. MUST FIND THE SHINY! Turns out, it was pretty blond girl's shoe. Not much else I can say about her. She's pretty and blond, with that well-adjusted, loved as a child look. And I mean, that's great. Being well-adjusted. Less fun at parties, perhaps, but, you know...

3.) So, today I was charged $0.50 for my ice water at Starbucks. I decided to order it again from another person to see what would happen. (Like holding a magnifying glass over an ant in the hot sun--just to see what will happen...) It appears that for some reason they need to ring up the ice water as something...so that an order will be patched through to make it, perhaps? Or so they have an accounting of the number of items they make? Still makes them fascists for charging for tap water, though.

4.) F*** I seriously just got pen on my face. What the f*** am I supposed to do? It's erasable pen...should I casually/vigorously rub the eraser end against my pinkish cheek? Or is that too obv? I mean, I'm just gonna ignore it. Then I'll look like an ass...why, oh why, does t.a. keep making eye contact with me when I'm soooooo not paying attention? T.A. is kinda cute...is he israeli? His name could be israeli...HOT.

5.) Blond boy talking. Uses lots of words. Doesn't say anything. He has REALLY NICE teeth though. Large and straight...braces? or au natural? gay? straight? It's nyu...I only jest that he's straight...

6) Cup of coffee. Cup of ice water. On empty desk next to me. Finish coffee. Turn upside down...SUCK. Get sad. Turn upside down. Hope. Hope. SUCK. Get sadder. Repeat 3 more times. STILL EMPTY. Why, oh why, is t.a. still looking at me?

7) Ice water is wet. Water spilling everywhere. On pants. On paper. Cup so wet it slides down desk. Like self-contained slip-n-slide. When will it end?!? Will it fall off the desk?!? Who knows!? Oh, the excitement of it all!

Nat Sci Observations:

1) Damn, I am dumb.
2) Damn, I am dumb.
3) Damn, I am dumb.
4) Damn, I am dumb.
5) Damn, I am dumb.
6) Ha, ex-suitemate just walked in 30 minutes late!
7) Damn, I am dumb.

Bookstore...Immediately after science. Went to aisle to find Lab Manual for said science class. During class, Bookstore had a whole stack. After class...there were two left on the shelf. When I shared this with the check out guy he was all..."Intense..." And I was all..."Yeah..."

Walk home...(far away) THAT GIRL HAS REALLY WHITE TEETH.
(close up). THAT GIRL HAS REALLY LARGE TEETH. THAT I MISTOOK FOR BEING REALLY WHITE.

Dr. Phil Family--highlight of my life.

Din Din: Subway. Me..."This meal is too expensive." Check-out dude/sandwich maker..."Sigh, I'll give you a discount." $1 off. I mean, I didn't even have to sex him up. Of course, when I approached the store he was outside smoking, and I was slightly turned off by the fact that he stopped when he saw me, followed me in, and proceeded directly to the sandwich making, sans hand washing...but $1 off. Score.

Night: martyrdom readings. social psych readings. nat sci readings. not reading for Hebrew. mistake? Cain. (yes.)

KITTY'S DOING BETTER!

Stay tuned tomorrow for another exciting installment of my life. More fun than watching paint dry. Sometimes.

Assed it up once more

So, I misspelled Eldridge. I spelled it Eldrige. In the first line. I could've just fixed it, but I felt my idiocy needed to be brought to light. Also tonight at dinner, I bought a sandwich and soda. And wasn't charged for the soda! So I tipped $1 on a $5.50 sandwich. The drink was $1.50, so I still saved the .50 plus tax! And I got to feel like a good person! I'm not sure if dude did it on purpose, or if he just forgot to ring up the soda. I certainly didn't draw his attention to it. p.s. he GAVE it to me. Out of the cooler. So, it's not like I stole it and shoved it in my lady-bag. Anyhoo, if he keeps this up, I'll keep up the tipping. Double f***ing win!

Slutting it Up For Chocolate Cake

I accidently just erased my entire blog post. Bare with me, I'm in mourning. Mourning the loss of unbridled brillance.

So, today I embarked upon a mission to fulfill a promise I made yesterday in ye ol blog post: going to Eldrige St Synagogue! (Sometimes I accidently spell it syna-gouge. Like gouge out my eyes. Or gouge out my soul. Whoops.) First I had to de-slutify myself. A most difficult task that involved LONG blue dress...past my knees...tank to cover my cleavage (ah, the wonders a push-up bra can do for 8 yr old boy chests) a jacket to cover my shoulders, and shoes that were NOT a made for walkin'. My first thought upon exiting me apartment building was, "Huh, I wonder if this dress is see-through in the sun?" It was gonna be one of those days...

So onward I trekked through the country that is china town to the synagogue of the lower east side Jews. (Actually first I passed it, then had to double back and was all, it's magnificent...I mean, I just walked right by that. And to the dumpling place. ((Not THAT dumpling place.)))

So, Eldridge is an Orthodox temple. I am reform. But, hey, it's like REALLY famous and pretty. Like Angelina Jolie. Who wouldn't want to go inside? Upon entering, I turned to the great ol staircase where I had to walk, in my un-walkable shoes in order to get to the balcony where the women sat and looked down (i'm gonna say it, a bit awkwardly) on the proceedings. When I reached the top the women turned to me in unison. And kept looking. And looking. For probs like 8 full seconds. Which may not seem like a lot, dear reader, but when you're alone in an Orthodox synagogue armed with only your serious doubts about your dress's visual impenetrability, it is an eternity. So, I sat. Alone. And listened. For 2 and a half hours. At the end of which there was chocolate cake! Score! and diet coke! Double score! During the 2 and a half hours. A few words of English were spoken. Many children ran around screaming, I got lost in the abyss of a basement attempting to find the latrine, and shofar man got increasingly red until he could barely blow (his horn) and I had to fight off the urge to hug him. Actually, for anyone who knows me, I don't exactly have the urge to hug strangers. But it felt like the right thing to say to normal readers.

The rest of my day was filled with martyrdom readings. Math that I don't understand at all because I haven't taken it in 5 years and am therefore filled with self-hatred and misery at the thought of... A new restaurant (which was awesome, but also the reason this blog posting has been interrupted by bathroom breaks) tootsie rolls, facebook, pandora, law and order, csi, house, and lots of nappy nap time. And now it is past midnight once more. Classes tomorrow. The dread fills my body already. Like the holy spirit. Except different. Nitey nite!

69 Reasons to love this New Year

So it is now a new year: 5770! I wish I realized sooner (as in before yesterday) that last year was '69. Including the summer. Which was the summer of '69. Think of the puns I could've tortured people with ALL year.

Morning: awoke. Fought with fan above lofty. Fan won. See swollen---difficult to bend, brusied, bloodied elbow as proof of my suffering. On a related note, I spent the day reading the New Testament for my martyrdom class, and have now decided to call all my flesh wounds: stigmata. Once before I had the ol' stigmata. (Actually a bleeding cut in the shape of a cross on my forearm) which I received when (I believed) I was climbing a mountain to meet monks that made jam. Turns out our guides/restaurant cooks thought we asked to go to the pool, so took us on an hour hike up a mountain to a waterfall instead. With ALL of our belongings. In Kpalime, Togo.

Anyhoo, I did not go to services today, but plan to go tomorrow! To the famed eldridge st synagogue a mere 10 min walk from my abode. I'm going tomorrow instead of today namely because tomorrow the SHOFAR is being blown. My fave thing eva'. Also, cause I made plans with someone for today. But then might have been blown off...or they really were sick and I'm a paranoid loser. Or I'm JUST a loser and people don't want to hang out with me. So they say they're ill. Ouchie my elbow hurts! And my pride! Hard to detect the difference sometimes.

Also, Kitty is sick! Her name is Moo and she's 13 and a big fluffernutter fluff ball. And I was caressing her gently this afternoon--until, that is, she moved her body away in such a manner that the clear message was, "Stop trying to make yourself feel better by stroking my softness; I am a cat; I am therefore aloof; I don't like you; I want a nap." Anyways I REALLY hope kitty gets better soon. I be sooo sad when snuggly things don't snuggle me anymore. (Notice the use of things--not people--because people and I aren't allowed to snuggle, not after last time.)

Also, I went to an Indian restaurant for dinner tonight. I was alone. It was muy romantico. Then I spent the rest of the eve' shitting my pants. Also, muy romantico. Ask the dog, he knows...

Then more Bible, then overcome with the sleepsies.

Also, I had subway for lunch, which is relevant insofar as it happened to me, and this is my blog, and the veggie delite meal is over a dollar more expensive here than in FL. I don't even want to tell you the price of veggie delites in India! boo, New York pricing! Boo.

oh, dear. I hope I shall not throw up!

Dear readers,
I am NOT drunk. With that said, please excuse any typos it is the Jew New Year. Yay for me! I kicked off 5770 with a delightful cupcake from sugar sweet sunshine. Then a banana pudding cup. I mean, banana pudding, where have you been my entire life??? After that, I ventured (avec friend) across the Brooklyn bridge in the hopes of procuring celebratory liquid! These hopes were dashed upon first entering a "Wings" restaurant that tried to card us before we even got a table. Here are our NYU ID's! We told them. Guy #1 and Guy #3 were def gonna let us in. But Guy #2 intervened and was all no ID no entrance, then 3 got said and tried to take control saying, "wait, wait, wait...which one of you are 21?" Then they had a mini-conference and decided we could stay. As long as we sat on chairs RIGHT behind them--sans table--and ate only food. Uhm, no. So we peaced. And my friendy headed into a liquor store to procure vino (for religious, and therefore legal purposes) in her slutty shirt, with breast accenting necklace and 5 inch heels! Score! Next step--getting back to Manhattan--a bit more dificil than one may originally think. Let's just say there was some jumping of constructions barracades--and time in the bike only lane. Once in Manhattan and me apartment building we ran into my roommates bringing the very sick cat home from the vet. :( We then stood--quite awkwardly in the kitchen while my roommate tried to care for the kitty. We didn't know what to do, so we decided to escape to the rooftop--our original plan. I grabbed a knife to open the wine so as to not bother my roommate about the opener. Once on the roof we discovered---wow, pretty. F***! COLD! We tried cutting the cork out piece by piece with the knife, until finally my friendy made head-way in forcing the cork downward into the bottle. Of course, the cork was already worked over, so pieces were def gonna be in the wine. With one last push she shoved the cork in and displaced wine ALL over us and the rooftop. Oops. What followed was laughter, drinking, stories, drinking and new years ringing in funsies!

Oh dear, it is 3:30 in the am and I am sleepsies. And also more than slightly nauseous. Thanks parasites for destroying the alcohol tolerance I soooo covet! Nighty night!

I like them because it's like a blow job and dessert in one!

Before I launch into the tirade of a shit show that is my life, I must remark upon some personal reflection that just occurred while walking home this eve--before scary man in unmarked white van quickly parallel parked next to me and made me fear he was going to drag me into said un-marked white van and date rape me. Well, actually, we weren't on a date. So, I 'spose it'd just be classified as plain old rape. Not entirely Mariska Hargitay worthy. Man, I wish I was 8 again.

So, topic of the eve-- gyms which have, in lieu of walls, BIG windows that look out onto the street. What do we think of this? Personally, I would never let my bestie see my on a treadmill, let alone strange passers-by. (I can only walk, not run, because my body has never mastered the subtle art of transitioning between the 2. Ask my elementary school P.E. teachers for further confirmation.) All I can think when I see this is, what are these people thinking. "I am so f***ing hot, that lady with the pug totes wants to do me?!?" Who, pray tell is that narcissistic? (I mean, I am, but even I have my standards. By which I mean level of self hatred that keeps me from endulging in such acts. And assuming the owners have this in order to bring people in, they wouldn't want fat or ugly people to rep. So is there a screening process? Does the manager tell ugly people to go hide in the back room?!? Soooooooo many questions...mostly why does everyone on the street when I'm walking alone past 10 look at me like I'm Jeffrey Dommer? Fo' reals. I mean, I appreciate it, I'm just saying. (p.s. GREAT IDEA. ESPECIALLY FOR THE UNDER 21 CROWD. DRINKING GAME. EVERYTIME I TYPE "MEAN" TAKE A SHOT!)

So, today I went to the San Gennero festival. I don't know how to spell it, but I don't particularly see that as relevant, in order to get my CANNOLI. aka. G-d's reproductive organ. Now, I mean, this is a "G" post people, so I'm being as discreet as possible, but cannolis, they do resemble certain aspects of the male anatomy. And eating them does resemble certain actions one might take with said piece of anatomy. My favorite part of the cannoli is the cream in the middle! And I could swallow every last morsel. In fact, I did, then slightly panicked when I was told that cannoli cream is indeed a relative of cheese which makes my stomach implode upon itself (thanks parasites!) and the urge to expel from both ends of the gastrointestinal tract quite overwhelming. But I mean, yum.

After cannolis, I returned to the Broome dorm with J and C to hang. I was almost not allowed in/summarily executed when I attempted to "break in." Realistically there was a change in policy regarding NYU students entering dorms when they're out of NYU housing, and the security guard is a meglomaniac. (Think night manager of women's clothes at Walmart!) The little power he has, he exercises with a vengance. And every time C attempted to coax him into submission with "she goes to NYU." He strangely replied with, "we're all NYU." Which I think is realistically untrue, but metaphorically very true regarding my life, and anything below 23rd st.

Once inside, phew that was hard!, we decided to "sporcle." Which is basically code for random timed quizzes regarding very specialized informational skills. Between the 3 of us. We couldn't finish ANY. Asian countries, USA capitals, European countries, Lord of the Rings Characters, all the words to that Frost poem about two streets. I mean, we couldn't even do one about fast food! And we're AMERICANS it's our soverign right to know everything about being fatasses. We rule the free world on fatasses, WE ARE FATASSES. And yet, no cigar. Finally we found one about the colors of the rainbow that we could finish. Although, and I am ashamed to admit this, if I were alone I wouldn't have finished. I thought the colors were blue and purple--not indigo and violet. This is why I need friends. And to hear stories of people who know less than I do about the world on a regular basis.

Upon leaving the dorm I was petriFIED to see the terrorizing guard-man. He however, was nowhere to be found. NO guard was anywhere to be found, which I find mightily interesting seeing as how I was waterboarded merely 3 hours prior for being a creeper. And though I'm NOT a rapist, if I were--I'd probs wait until after 10 to strike. As opposed to 8:30. Yes. I would also nickname myself "therapist." Because when you break the word up, it spells, "the-rapist." Not that I've given this much though.

p.s. coffee with D sat? Damn, I wish I was less socially awk.
p.p.s will try to post sexually suggestive cannoli pics in separate post. so i don't eff up and erase this whole thing. ! :)

Small and Cheap

So, it's after midnight, I need to be up in less than 6 hours, and I'm unshowered and blogging...

Important news:

1. I think I ate a blonde eyelash in my Kimmel salad today. (I have brown eye brows).
2. Yesterday when I was cooking chickpeas I noticed approx. 1 tbsp of dirt in the boiling water with said chickies. I guess this is why the package says to be careful of dirt and small stones. Although I feel like dirt and small stones are something you can remove before selling. If you try REALLY hard. And if you're Whole Foods.
3. Whenever I feel wet droplets fall on me as I walk I think: "Is this rain? Posion? Leakage from the apt above?" I choose not to answer.
4. German tourists laughed at my "badass NY street walker" look today. And then spoke. In German.
5. Tonight I met a guy who told me he could "never have a dog/cat because he thought it was the ultimate betrayal to cut off your best friend's genitals and then pretend to still be besties."
6. You know in those Folger's commercials when they say "good to the last drop?" Every morning when I drink the last dregs of my Starbucks coffee, I tilt the cup all the way up in order to get the very last drop. Then I do it again. And again. When I ran out today in Hebrew, I almost cried.
7. I ALSO almost peed my pants twice today when I REALLY had to go before I reached home. I MUST LEARN TO USE THE POTTY BEFORE I LEAVE! I realized tonight, upon speaking with a girl who's traveled to lots of...impovershed nations...that the reason we hold our peepee unconsciously comes from living in places without toilets. It's now second nature to WAIT. (And then almost wet ourselves...) Hmmm...interesting.
8. Today in martyrdom, my teacher let like 5 kids talk. for an hour. Dude, they're NOT interesting. Dude, you're interesting. Dude, please. Make them stop repeating themselves aimlessly in their "inside voices" for 20 minutes. I could be napping!
9. Today in Nat Sci, I felt like a douche bag. At least I got to casually mention that I'd been to the Himalayas. I've decided on the first test, every time I can't answer a question I'm going to write, I was too busy f***ing around in the HIMALAYAS to practice useless math skills. I mean, who wouldn't give me an A?

10. Tonight I was introduced to the Dumpling Place AND Cocoa Bar. Heavy props go out to all involved. Esp. Ray for discounting/microwaving my chocolate chip cookie, Ariel for buying me dinner, and those friendly people eating at Dumpling Place for just being so damn nice. Really. Maybe it's because the food is so cheap, that they're happy?!? Bizarre concept in NY. Cheap food. And Happiness.

Open question:
1. What does one wear on a non-date with someone they like whom the haven't seen in 1.5 years and currently has a girlfriend?
2. How to react when someone asks you to go with them to a party they assume you were invited to (because the thrower is a mutual friend) when you actually weren't?

btw. These are TOTES hypothetical. Yeah. That's the word. Hypothetical.

My B'.

I just realized my time stamp is wrong. It claims it be only 8:31, and thus my rushing, slacker-eque behavior was a moot point.

p.s. I am making a conscious effort to stem any obsessive tendecies I may, or may not, have towards D. Now it is midnight, and my paper awaits!

Why Jesus would have loved French Toast Made on Challah

So, I'm supposed to be writing a paper due tomorrow, but in my effort to update my blog on a daily basis I am uber-concerned that waiting until said paper is finished would push my blogging efforts past midnight and therefore into another day. Priorities, folks. So, here I am. On a time-clock. Like a McDonald's hamburger flipper. Or Jesus.

It's a paper for my martyrdom class, where my teacher asked us to "be intelligent." I considered prayer for a good paper/grade, then decided that might be a bit too sac-religious.

So, Hebrew. Okay I didn't talk. BUT I totes sat in the front row and appeared muy attentivo. Then we had a quiz and a girl cried. And I didn't cry, so maybe I didn't do as badly as one person in the class? After the quizlet was grammar review time, and while conjugating one group of verbs into the future tense, our teacher said you had to look out for the "groniyot." Which, in Hebrew comes from the word for throat, garon and means guttural, but in English sounds like groin, so everytime she commented like, "You need to be careful of the groniot" I heard "You need to be careful of the groin!" Hilarity ensued, because I am an 8 yr old boy. (See my massive love of dinosaurs as further proof.)

So, Nat Sci 1 Lab: uhm, remember when I haven't taken math in fo'eva. Yeah, about that...I need a kindly brilliant freshman to take me under their wing. I remember nothing. Granted there are many things I'm not good at (or so people tell me) but I've never been given the "You are a f***ing dumbass, why am I in your group?" stare before. Also, I attempted to buy a lab manual but the 6 copies the bookstore had were "missing" or, as I was informed, probs stolen. Oops. Too be fair the bookstore is muy expensivo, and apparently there's some kind of economic issue.

omg. Biggest Loser season premiere tonight! 2 hours! And just another reason why my paper is not yet done. So as I sit, watching the episode all I can think is, man, I NEED to go to the gym. (Actually that's the same thing I think everytime I climb into lofty and hear shakeshake.) I mean, let's be honest, it doesn't take a gal currently enrolled in social psychology (which I am!) to understand the phenonoma that we judge ourselves on the basis of other people, and thus feel comforted by those worse, uhm, off than we are. Side note--I was eating a tootsie roll during the "last chance workout." My roommate was snacking on challah french toast. And let's be honest, I am sooo not getting my cute ass to the gym.

Ok. So. I used to be a freshman. I understand what it was like. But I am a creepy loner girl. When I eat lunch by myself it is because I choose to (or because none of my friends have a meal plan) NOT because I have no friends. If one more person tries to befriend me while I'm wolfishly gulping down my Kimmel glory I WILL SNAP. It was cute at first, but now it just makes me feel kinda pathetic.

p.s. I am so not completely eyebrow plucked. Nay, in the fierce light of morning, I discovered some strays. but I am too le tired to do anything about it just now...

p.p.s. I ran into my former foundations t.a. in the bookstore today. Her name is Paula, and paula if you're reading this, holla. Our class had a kind of Jesus like relationship with her as a matter of fact. We were massively in love with her and she was midly indifferent to us. Which just made us love her all the more.

Urban Dictionary Frames My Outlook On Daily Interactions

Omg. I just spent an hour plucking my eyebrows. They are painful, swollen, and UNEVEN.

I am also staring wistfully at a can of diet sunkist on my desk that's been empty for days. I wish I was Harry Potter and could make it magically fill...

Today. Highlights. Lowlights.

1). I couldn't decide between iced and hot coffee this morning at Starbucks (iced: more expensive, higher caloric content...thanks for the info large, legally mandated calorie signs Starbucks!) versus (Hot: i mean, it's hot out. and takes longer to drink...but you do generally get more coffee...) Then suddenly I came up with a BRILLIANT idea. I'll order hot coffee AND iced water. Because then it will still be cheap (hot coffee price) AND i'll have the cooling powers of the ice water! Oh, how dasterdly wrong I was. I was charged $0.55 for a glass of ice water. Fascists. I mean, it's not like I wasn't buying anything! Brilliance shut down.

2). In natural science we were measuring breath and air or something and first we split into pairs and one person had to see how many breaths it took to fill a plastic bag that we'd placed over our mouth. Making sure no air got out. I mean, I feel like, as a child, I was told to avoid things like this. Apparenly a good portion of the class was dead because they reported needing to take 15-26 breaths...
I did not do this task. I failed at life doing part numero deux where I had to count how many breaths I took in a minute. Upon answering 6, my teacher said "Uhm, were you holding your breath?" To which I responded with the kind of laughter generally preceeded by green leaves. (This was NOT the reason for my inappropriate reaction, I was le tired. and double le confused at life.)

3.) On my walk home I saw a guy had attempted to bandage his own bleeding arm with some see through, white, gauze esque material and scotch tape. I then immediately thought of shivs (think sharpened toothbrushes in prison movies) and maybe that guy was shivved and attempted to hide it from the authorities by cleaning it himself. Then I thought, dumbass we're not in prison.

4.) For some unknown reason, the last few times I've come home, about half way into my 25 min walk, I was suddenly struck with an overwhelming desire to urinate. The kind of run down the street, shove down pedestrians, nearly piss your pants desire. I'm not sure why this keeps occurring, or how to stop it. I'm considering now ALWAYS making sure to go before I leave campus. And lessening up on the caffeine...

5.) I made (warmed) lentil (canned) soup for dinner. My stomach felt like it was shivved as soon as I finished the second bowl. NO MORE LENTIL SOUP EVER. EVEN IF IT'S THE LAST FOOD ON EARTH. EVEN IF ANGELINA JOLIE SAYS EAT LENTIL SOUP AND I WILL ADOPT YOU. Okay, maybe then...

p.s. Hebrew class tom! I am going to speak. Even if I sound like an idiot. I'm getting nervous just typing this... :(

Beets and Beats

So, I have still not received a facebook message back from D. Granted I only sent mine yesterday, and when I did so it was with the ultimately satisying notion that I was now in complete control of the situation. I held all the cards. D had to figure out how to respond to me. Of course, after about 12 hours of this self-affirming thought, I realized that I was actually the one NOT in control because now, despite how much I tried to lie to myself, I was obssessively awaiting the perfect response...What to do for a distraction? Pinkberry for starters! Also watching the Good Shepherd snuggled in lofty with my laptop on my lady parts, studying Hebrew on the roof (much better idea in theory where bugs and too much suniness aren't issues...) and then some additional martyrdom research (thanks teach for emailing us those uplifting links!) One was a youtube video dedicated to Columbine "martyr" Cassie Bernall with the song "Time of My Life" playing in the background. Not too shabby for the Christian Rock genre...The other video was of a musician by the name of John Day singing his song, "Would you Say Yes." Now, aside from the fact that the second song was just, kind of, awful, there was some semblance of a black box void thingy over one of Mr. Day's teeth that made it look like it was missing. It wasn't on my computer, and it seemed to hover over just that tooth, but it didn't look like the mouth was actually sans tooth....weird...here's the link if you're as bored as I am!

http://www.tangle.com/view_video?viewkey=46d6c400a152fa91cee4

Also, I made 2 things of chickpeas and PASTA for the first time in my young life. Then I attempted to watch TV, but as I've seen every episode of every show known to man, took refuge back in lofty for the evening.

p.s. my roommate made BEETS which are one of my favorite foods in the world. and i soooooo want some. and this is sooooooo not sarcasm, i am just a strange lady.

omg. back to classes tom. Please can I get a message back? That would make my life. And yes, I realize needing someone else to validate my self-worth isn't exactly "healthy," but I'm 20, it's my job to be self-centered and needy.

Who has a stocked shelf in a cupboard?!? Uhm. That'd be me.

So today I woke up at 11:08. I consider this a small victory because I am still able to say I did blahblahblah this morning...

I also got to work on one of my major life goals, being nicer to foreigners, when one such Panama-ian chap sitting next to me at McDonalds (where I brought my Maumoun's falafal and diet 7-Up to drink because it was just the wettest outside!) said, and I quote, "Can I ask you some questions?" Uhm...was my intensely awkward reply. Is this guy a journalist, a rapist, something in between? "Just, three" he continued. Uhm...I continued to stammer. I suppose at some point he took my continued stammering for actual acquiesence because he then breathed an awkward not fully relieved sigh and said, "Okay where is a Best Buy and internet access?" (Which, in retrospect was only 2 questions...) He then continued, explaining that he had just arrived from Panama. His apartment that was supposed to have internet apparently did not, and he wanted to "buy internet time." I think there was some kind of cultural barrier here, but I agreed to google best buy for him on my KICK ASS new phone, and gave him a little of my city slicking advice. Mostly I just agreed to do it because it made me feel like a better person and when his mommy called him on the phone and talked to him in Spanish I could nearly understand some of his replies...which made me feel REALLLLY smarts. Also, because of the solemn promise I made to be nicer to foreigners after an uncomfortable incident in a bathroom in Tel Aviv where there was a sign above the toilet. In Hebrew. And the only words I could understand were..."Please do NOT...thank you." I was like, dear lord, if this says "Please do not flush the toilet or the world will explode" I am going to feel like such an ass. Luckily nothing (to my knowledge) occurred. Mostly because I ran out of the restaurant like woah fast and never returned.

Wowzers--today was just so darn productive. Firstly, I did ALL my reading for Monday's Martyrdom class while snuggling myself in my loft bed. SELF LOVE. I also drank 2 diet sunkists and one diet dr. pepper. I also bought real kid groceries from this new conveniance store because it was the grand opening and everything was half off from a very nice bloke, possibly named John (see store name for inference) who had a delightful smile which made up for any communication gaps that may have occurred. Because it was half-off Mr. Needs No Name could only take cash. So I went to my apt a few blocks away to pick up some, and decided, well, since I'm here, might as well visit the little girls room. Upon my triumphant return to the store (cash in hand) "John" looked happy and surprised to see me as he stated "I thought you'd never come back!" At this point I just mumbled something about 5 flights of stairs, not wanting to ruin the mood of our new relationship by telling him I use the bathroom, at times.

Also I realized that the place that sells yogurt for $0.35 an ounce isn't really a good deal because there are 16 ounces in a normal sized cup.

Also after waiting for my friend for 30 minutes at Whole Foods and "looking" for her for 15, I impressively deduced that she had in fact gone to another Whole Foods, and that we were both dumbasses.

I also made and broke plans, skipped out on 2 parties because it was wet and chilly and unfortunate, and realized I don't know how to work my DVD player...

Messaged D an extremely flattering/self-deprecating facebook message!!!!!!!!!!

Watched a bit of Christopher Meloni...Pined for Rachel Maddow...and googled "is cornbread bad for dogs?!?" after Roman got into my crumbs...

Last but not least I was informed today that NYU WILL NO LONGER HAVE UNLIMITED FREE PRINTING. In other words, NYU IS TRYING TO DESTROY MY SPIRIT. I have, on average about 300 pages to print (and read!!!!) a week. Tell me NYU, is this really what $54,000 a year and a lifetime of debt pays for? I think I might've handled the situation a bit better if the girl at the front desk looked like she gave a shit about my plight. Now, I don't mean to generalize here but, WHY DO THE WORK-STUDY KIDS AT 3RD NORTH NEVER CARE ABOUT MY PERSONAL PROBLEMS?!? I mean, I'm sure 5 million people bitch about this to you. A day. But at least I attempted to manufacture sympathy for people in my work study job. And let me tell you, it was much more self-deprecating and painful than yours.

P.s. I've been reading articles off my computer instead of printing them out (see above), while in the normal positioning of lying flat on my back in lofty with laptop propped on my lap. Now, the excessive and prolonged warmth in said area is making me a bit nervous with regards to my future reproductive activities...I mean, I don't want kids now...but someday I don't want the reason I can't have them to be because I was reading about martyrs while snuggling myself inappropriately. How awkward would that be at cocktail parties...?!

Friday-ness.

There are a lot of things I could write about today. Walking 30 minutes in the ick, windy, slant rain to go to Spice for their $7 lunch special. Nearly shit**** my pants on the walk back while simultaneously realizing that 9 months and multiple parasites might have made said delight a bit more difficult to digest. An awkward conversation at the career center in which I may (or may not) have been made to look like a crazy stalker chick. (Which I may, or may not, be). Demanding to speak to the supervisor of a tele-marketer whose called me over 50 times in 3 days, promised to take me off her list 4 of those times (it's always the same lady!!!!!!) then proceeded to keep calling. over and over and over. Eating mini 3 Musteteers bars in order to boost my self-esteem, drinking wine with my roommate, her mother, and her mother's identical twin sister. (Incidently, I am now profoundly thankful of the fact that my mother did not have an identical twin sister. ) Boiled and ate 1/2 cup of chick peas for din din, because I'm too cheap for real food, stalked D and D's women on facebook and napped excessively in proportion to my actual waking hours.

But, truth be told, writing about this on the 8th anniversary of 9/11 seems even more self-obsessed than I actually am. Truth be told I am extremely grateful to everyone who has/is/will be serving our country---protecting my very right to blog aimlessly about myself. I wish I could say something eloquent here. Thought-provoking. Hopeful. Insightful. Intense. But for now all I can say is thank-you. I can't even begin to imagine the kind of courage and dedication it takes to be in your position. So, for now, just thanks. And maybe, for today at least, that's enough.