Yes, I am THAT lame

I feel somehow, anti-American today, dear readers. I don't really like snow days. Mostly, this is because they inconvenience my plans, don't occur when I really want them to, and cause me to stay cooped up in my apartment all day alone with my "roommates" (who hate meeeeeeeeeeeeee).

So, I shall blog! and eat cheerios! And celebrate my few moments of apartment solitude while watching my "Stories" and Divorce Court where a man just said, "She's got this independence thing in her head...this is MY HOUSE!" And then told the female judge that "I bet your husband runs your house!" Then talked a lot about G-d and said that He made women..."just to comfort man, not to run anything!"

I like this man. He reminds me of my friend "Mr weird dude" who hangs out on B and 3rd. Mr Weird dude hangs out on B and 3rd ALL DAY EVERY DAY. Some days I wonder if he's a dealer. He is totes sketch. But I never see him do anything. He just stands there. Even when it's cold. Except sometimes he'll ask peeps if they have a light. And most of the time they don't. And then he keeps standing there.

Last night I walked 30 min in a raging blizzard. Made it all the way to the theatre without falling! Then fell, ass submerged, into a puddle. Across the street from the theatre. Then sat, ass soaked, for 2 hours, watching the show then walked back home in the snow. I AM EPIC.

So, I FINALLY MET WITH MY COG NEURO PROF. And she is totes amazing. Although I'm still completely intimidated by her. In fact, I blew off another class 20 min early just so I didn't have to ask her to push back the time. She gave me this website where you can look up research and I spent like 8 hours doing it! And, therefore, NOT doing any of my homework. But I LOVE her the mostest, so it's okay.

Alas, dear readers, I shall put on pants. Brave the cold, drink some over-priced coffee and read about cognitive neuroscience!

Yes, I am THAT lame.

I am 21. Look out, hipsters, I'm hitting the social scene in my GIANT, dirty, blue parka!

So, I DIDN'T VOMIT LAST NIGHT! Which, personally I feel is a major, epic, WIN. However, there is a big part of me...the reluctant NYU hipster, bulimic part, that would have felt slightly better knowing that the massive burrito, rice, beans, chips, salsa, cupcake, banana pudding, margaritas, and beer would NOT be making an appearance at the end of my digestive tract--and thereby comfortably settling into my fat cells.

So, I wasn't actually carded at the restaurant, but I don't think the waitress thought I was 21. I just don't think she cared. Which reminds me of waitstaff in Israel, which makes me a bit nostalgic. I am extraordinarily socially awkward, and I invited multiple people to come to dinner--most of whom didn't know one another. (I'm 21 and I still don't know the difference between who and whom). So, I felt like I should try to make conversation between them, but I'm really awkward so I was just like yea...this person's cool! and they're cool too! I feel that my friends in general are less awk than I am, so they'd do a better job at conversing than I would at attempting to force them to converse.

WE WERE THE ONLY WHITE PEEPS IN THE RESTAURANT. SCORE! This not only speaks to how legit the food was (half the menu was in Spanish!) but also to how legit-ly cool we were/are. I mean, really, the ONLY white-folks. Also, since this place is near my apt, it speaks to how cool I am for living there. REally, I'm AWESOME.

After people got bored/tired of me and started to leave one by one, my two remaining comrades and I decided to go back to my apt (to urinate and drop off the DANK cupcakes my lovely gay boyfriend baked for me!) and then to go to ACE bar on 5th and B. To be like legit carded/served alcohol. Which I was! And I learned to tip bartenders! And I learned how dark bars are so you don't see how ugly the dude you're making out with actually is until the morning! After drinking a bit I was just the sleepiest/and the coldest because I wore a dress w/o leggings and sandals. (Is there a 3rd g in leggings?). So, I decided we should call it a night. It was after midnight after all! Basically, I'm really, really old.

On the walk back to my apt, some girl said loudly, "Why is that girl (ME!!!!!!!!!!!!) wearing sandals?!?!?" I laughed and told my friends (loudly) what she said. Sometimes I wonder if people know that when they're speaking loudly about someone on the street the other person can actually hear them...peeps be lame. Although I talk shit all the time, so...

All in all, a great b-day was had! And now I have enough candy/pudding/cupcakes to keep me satiated for a long while!

p.s. The continually mentioned object of my affections did NOT facebook happy birthday me. Which, seems to suggest, that even friendship---nay even facebook friendship-- is unreciprocated. I hope my 21 yr old self is mature enough to give it up.

Furry Things.

Dog peed on floor. What to do. What to do. Not cleaning it up. Don't want to step in it. Dog pee. Dog pee.

Old woman. In theatre. Wearing giant white fur hat. Patron behind her, "Could you please remove the hat?" It was giant. As in an entire animal. Man with furry woman. "That is NOT going to happen." Actors enter. Women's friend screams, "I can't see!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Hugh Dancy is on stage, ma'am. Woman leaves to find usher. NEVER comes back. Was she kicked out? Is furry lady a theatre goddess? who knows. Disappeared woman's friend squirms and sighs for the entire first act.

Intermission:
Usher, "Ma'am, can you please remove the hat?" Chatter chatter chatter. Lady claims she never heard request to remove from the ladies behind her. LIESLIES. Women screams, "He said 'That's not gonna happen!!!!!!!'" Usher, "Please. No yelling." I felt her pain. The entire audience was united however, against this unfortunate couple. And that felt nice. Act 2. Woman was returned. Hat was removed.

END SCENE.
p.s. usher was british. so, ma'am is probs an incorrect translation of what she originally intended to say.

Before I CUT a bitch

Dear reader, do you remember that girl who bitched to her friend on the phone about how un-feminine she felt not wearing high heels? I do, dear reader. Mostly, because I see her lots at Starbucks and she's always a bizotch. Today, I saw her on the street on the way TO starbucks. And, dear reader, all I could think was, she looks 40. I'm serious. The amount of make-up she had caking the pores of her face aged her 20 years. I mean she's not unattractive. But the make-up and fake blonde highlighted hair reminded me of a friend('s mother). By which I mean she looked OLD. She cut me off in line, dear reader. And bitched to her friend about something muy pedestrian, of this I am sure. I think I win though. Mostly because the cops think I'm a teen runaway.

Today in my extraordinarily unhelpful stats recitation, my T.A. was saying something (she always is) and, per usual, I was reading a New York Times article online. This is mostly because I can't follow her lectures. There are even worksheets. To guide us. We go number by number and i have NO IDEA WHAT SHE'S TALKING ABOUT. (and, YES. she actually speaks English!)

Okay, there is some loud ass noise coming into my window. It's 11pm and I need to be up in 8 hours. For an exam. I will CUT a bitch. what the fuck is that?!?!

Anyhoo, during pointlessness, my stomach started to rumble. Not cute, quiet rumble. 20 min loud ass, someone get this girl a f***ing poptart kinda rumble. Interesting, dear reader, f***ing and poptart both came up as misspelled. But "kinda" did not. Is that a word now? So, there i was stomach rumbling like an ass...I grabbed myself around the middle in an attempt to quash said sound, to NO avail, I might add. Oh, well. At least it provided a bit of entertainment.

Dear reader, there ARE straight men in NY! They congregate in coffee shops that charge too much and have wifi. One such place just opened near me. They serve H&H bagels. It's called Atlas. I shall now go there more often. With mascara. And desperation.

Love,
me
p.s. noise best stop before i CUT a bitch.

V - Day! By which I mean veneral disease.

Yes, dear readers, today is valentines day. In Colombia, they call it..."spanishspanishspanish" aka: Day of love and friendship. I like that, mostly because I am alone. And recently drunk facebooked the loml (love of my life) who, I'm sure, is celebrating with awesome girlfriend. I also recently have been contemplating a non-date that I experienced, which has led me to the understanding that I know nothing about men. This belief has been cemented during subsequent encounters.

Dear readers, relationships are hard, and break-ups are sad. And sad, angry, lonely, bitter people are generally more interesting to be around than the happy ones. Mostly because I'm a self-centered bizotch who doesn't like to see other people happy. But, dear readers, I am also a firm believer in karma, and for that reason alone I am going into today: the day of chocolate and wine and bitterness with an open, happy heart.

Speaking of wine, dear reader, I got wasteyed the other night. But, I didn't vomit, so I was very proud of that. I think you are too, dear reader! And I spoke to some nice, fun israelis who tried to make me speak hebrew--which was actually significantly easier the drunker I got. Or maybe I was just as bad but was less aware of it the drunker I got. Also, i tend to get confused by the actions of israeli men. and men in general.

Also, I am again attempting to work up my courage to go to cog neuro office hours. Damn you snow storm shattering my resolve!

So, dear readers, Happy Valentine's Day to you! I hope your day is filled with chocolate, and gluttony, and sex. (if you so choose.).

SNOW DAY!

Finally. Finally I work up the courage to go to my cog neuro prof's office hours. And what happens? A f***ing blizzard. That's what. And NYU cancels classes for a snow day for the first time in 2 zillion years. Some would take this as fate. I should not go. No, no, I say. I say this gives me more time for preparation--because as a socially awk nutter I need all the prep time I can get. I'm like a social dyslexic. I simply need extra time.

I came home. Pissed. About said snow day. And screamed some explitives about life. Then my roommate started to cry about sick dog. And I felt like a punk. But, ya know, I was pissed. And I'm only 20 so my pre-frontal cortex isn't entirely developed, so I have a hard time controlling my pissy-ness.

I was a bigger person today, dear reader. I wanted to watch TV in the living room of the apt. But my roommate came back. With a boy. So I retreated to my bat cave. Which is thus named A)for it's extraordinarily small size and B) because all of the light bulbs burned out. Again. I hope she gets laid. True story.

First stats test next week! I am not approving of this. For some reason there is a group of freshmen in all 3 of my psych classes. The same freshmen. And I am a junior. For this reason, I feel stupid. Also, I feel like I was smarter 2 years ago. Or at least tried harder. Which amounted to the same thing.

Also, I wanted a burrito. I gave up a free Qdoba (sp?) burrito. Because I was going to be on campus til late. Then classes got canceled. Then I bought a burrito from neighburrito. They have vegan cheese. But, they were out of it. Which made me happy, because then I was forced to eat real, yummy, cheese. My tum tum is angered.

My puppy is still sick. Mostly because he's not a puppy. Mostly because he's 12. And a pit bull. Also, he's not actually mine.

I decided to watch internet TV so my roommate could have private time. Then the website kicked me off for viewing over 72 minutes. Can we say, judgmental?

Things that go bump in the night...

It's interesting dear reader...not that I have insomnia, for that occurs far too often to be extremely noteworthy-- in fact, lying in bed at 11 pm and not falling asleep until after 5am seems to be, in fact, a particularly impressive quality that I possess. No, it's interesting that during my insomnia last night I heard my roommates getting up and using the bathroom. Perhaps 5 times in all during the night. This is interesting A) because peeps generally don't bathroom in the middle of the night (let alone multiple times!) and B) because post-bathrooming I heard the shutting of a bedroom door-suggesting that the bathroomer was NOT roommate A who, apparently, was also possessed by the demon of insomnia (SHE doesn't sleep with her door closed,) but roommate B who claimed to sleep through the night undisturbed. Curious. I also have mice, dear reader. In my walls. I want to snuggle them to pieces. My cat is too large/obese/lazy to chase them. She just sleeps. In retrospect she is my roommate's cat. But when she gets into the catnip she's a little slut.

On the subject of bathroom-ing, dear reader: Every day, post Kimmel lunch, I like to take a little constitutional to the Bobst stack bathrooms in order to relieve myself. Mostly, I like this location because it's generally empty. Not today, dear reader. Today, about a minute after I settled in, some girl walked in sniffing so loudly that I thought she would hyperventilate. If her goal was NOT smelling things she seemed to be going about it in an awfully strange way. I stifled a giggle.

I've replaced one obsession for another, dear reader. In terms of my non-existent, solely in my head, romantic life. I am okay with this. Mostly because I find my exquisite fantasy life to be much more fulfilling than legit peeps. Hope that doesn't make me too much of a creeper!

Today, post-constitutional, I participated in a 2-hr MRI experiment. I anxiously await an email in which my brain scans will be attached!!!! B*** best NOT forget. I WANT MY BRAINS!!!!!

My week in review

Turns out I really like the guy from my class whose eyes I mentioned previously as looking high. He's from Chile and very sweet. Probably too sweet to actually like women, but I felt like we didn't know each other well enough for me to broach the subject quite yet.

Things I learned about myself this past week:
1) I don't understand men. I try to reference "He's Just Not That Into You" every time my brain gets into a big debate over what a guy actually means when he says/does certain things. But really all I understand is that I understand nothing and as liberating as it is to say "he's just not that into me," it's also just a tad-bit sad, lonely, and self-hatred-ing.

2) I am NEVER allowed to drink espresso at 9pm again. EVER. I will not sleep at all. All night long. EVER EVER EVER

3) I want my professors to like me. Mostly so they'll write me nice letters of rec for grad school (if I ever decide to apply), but also so we can be bffl. (best friends for life). And also because I'm inappropriately attracted to people in power.

I think there was a "snow storm" outside last night. I live on the 5th floor, so I honestly have no clue. My foot is falling asleep because I've been in bed so long.

I really want to be fluent in Hebrew when I'm done Rosetta stoning in 6 months. I don't think this is a reasonable goal, and that saddens me verily.

I ate chips yesterday in the silent library and felt like an asshole.
I forgot about the career fair and didn't wear a suit to campus. I felt like an asshole.
MRI experiment on MON!!!!! Hope I don't freak out again!

It was a Tuesday

One of my classmates in my "see a play a week class" has "high eyes." As in, when he looks at me, or anyone else in the room, he seems perpetually high. The teacher has a delightful irish brogue, aka, we're gonna have some fun. i think im trying tibetan food tom night. I hope fred (and delores) behave themselves!

I almost cut multiple bitches for cutting me in the kimmel salad line today. I know you're freshmen. I know you're easily overwhelmed by the tiniest of things, but DON'T EFFING CUT ME. I mean it! I gets angry. The girl in front of me sensed my anger, laughed nervously, and handed the tongs directly to me even though a girl had gotten in front of her and was therefore standing at the lettuce sans tongs. victory! Every day when I get my salad i rush off in a corner (like a bulimic) and shovel enough food into my mouth so the salad weighs less than a pound and the nyu dictatorship cannot rob me of more money. truth.

I got my eyebrows threaded today by a lovely indian woman. I took 2 motrin and 2 tylenol about an hour before so they only hurt a little. Thank G-d for drugs!

I want a pet mouse. I'd name him Wilbert.

My cog neuro prof is awesome and thus incredibly intimidating. I am trying to "mind over matter" getting over my crush who's remarkably happy with her gf. LAME. I am LAME.

I'm eating chickpeas. And will soon eat (overcooked) broccoli so I don't have to mess with any of those lame-ass vitamins!

So now they know I'm crazy

So, I've decided I have an anxiety disorder. Also, I'm bipolar and ADHD. But mostly, anxious, because when asked to read something aloud to the class my voice got really high, and shouty and loud and then when I was finished the entire class sat in silence and the TA started talking about how you need to listen for "pressured" speech because it's a sign of mania. As in, I'm insane, as in, that's what everyone was thinking.

Also, my cog neuro prof is amazing, and I find it overwhelming to be in her presence. Also, I refused to get out of my jammies all day on Sunday, and I just read, watched Xena, and imagined scenarios in my head of situations I would like to come true because they make me happy. I can't wait til I'm legal, so I can drink away the willies! But mostly, because there's nothing classier than Trader Joe's wine and getting wastey faced at 1 in the afternoon on unlimited mimosas. Sometimes I think people try to make my life more difficult than it has to be.

Also, non-linear speech is a MAJOR sign of psychosis. Oops. (*See all blog posts for reference to my worry.)