Month: January 2013

ok, ranting.

17th December 1934: American actress Jean Harlow on the set of the MGM musical melodrama 'Reckless' with director Victor Fleming and co-star William Powell. (Photo by Virgil Apger)
guys, pls stop asking me out on a date
and then asking me to fucking plan it.

THERE ARE RULES FOR A REASON.

did you put in a little effort?
did you suggest a half-decent bar?
congrats! your odds just increased →

SIGNIFICANTLY.

why? because it tells me that you are capable and decisive and creative and adventurous and smart and assertive and just fucking old enough to know better than to make me listen to you talk about your extended birthright trip in some lackluster bar that has the lights turned up to asshole. let me be clear. if you cannot suggest a good first date spot, asking me to suggest one for you will just delay the inevitable.

SERIOUSLY.

google someone who doesn’t care.
your money’s no good here.

thinkin bout 2004.

you hurted me pretty bad
“it’s the sense of touch. in any real city, you walk, you know? you brush past people, people bump into you … nobody touches you. we’re always behind this metal and glass. i think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something.”

– crash (2004)

this movie came out when i was a freshman in college and a lot of my newly acquired, ivy-envious social circle thought it was a terrible film. i’m pretty sure, after vocalizing their massive distaste to the group, they had little difficulty forgetting it was ever made. i, however, remember liking it a lot, if only for don cheadle’s opening line. brushing and bumping and not touching and crashing? it’s been like [pause, calculating] 8.5 years since this movie was released [pause, “holy shit. it’s been 8.5 years? seriously?”] and i’m still quoting it. c’mon. don’t be like that. this line is gorgeous! it’s about aggressive loneliness. and cruel disconnectedness. and like … having feelingz.

i have all the feelingz.
also, sandra bullock.

i peaked in hs.

book
week 11
story tiiiiiiime. so, as you may or may not know, i grew up in michiana (a classy place named after classy radio personalities who didn’t feel like taking five extra seconds to distinguish between michigan and northern indiana during weekly broadcasts). basically, it was a REALLY small town and a REALLY big deal when friday’s, chili’s, AND barnes & noble all opened up at the exact same time on top of neighboring cornfields in the middle of mishawaka (another classy place named after a native american princess who got stabbed in the boob). wow, wikipedia. just. wow. aaaaanyway, when the time came for my older sister to consider her part-time high school job options, she wisely choose books and newspapers over lukewarm queso and suspender flair. 5 years later, i was more than happy to cash in on the nepotism and opted for the same. let the record reflect, i LOVED working at barnes & noble. the in-store cafe was 50% off, i made a KILLING during christmas (#jewishhhh), and they paid me to wear the six flags clifford couture.

yes, kids.
mama was a staaaaaar.

the oppressive male ok’s.

okez
quick question: how much more post-party, liberal artsy small talk am i going to have to endure before my bevy of brilliant business ideas starts getting venture capitalized? i mean, seriously. “the oppressive male gayz” would be a great name for a gay bar. listen, we’ll soft open in some questionably uncomplicated neighborhood like chinatown or QUEEEEENZ → aaaaaand then, [dramatic pause] once our bi-weekly dance-a-thon-with-a-python-a-thon goes viral, nymag will note that it was – not us – but our fiercely loyal major-regs (major regulars) who shortened its name to …

l’OMG.

i wrote it down.

maybe it’s good that i’m tossing, turning.
maybe i need this to be difficult.
maybe i need this to have holes.
to be … [don’t] …  [don’t say it] …

imperfect.

and stressful.
and exaggerated.
and over thought.

maybe it’s time for me to roll around in my sleep for something.

so if it works out,
if i end up getting it,
i’ll know that i wanted it.
that i actually wanted it.

and i’ll go in there.
i’ll go in there everyday.
kicking so much ass.
just to fucking keep it.

stop … you’re ruining it.

why is the sky blue?
“the explanation for why the sky is blue involves so much of the natural sciences: the colors within the visual spectrum, the wave nature of light, the angle at which sunlight hits the atmosphere, the mathematics of scattering, the size of nitrogen and oxygen molecules, and even the way human eyes perceive color. it’s most of science in a question that a young child can ask.”

– nicholas christakis

ghost bra: the way of the sample sale.

yesterday i went to a lingerie sample sale and even though this was maybe the second time i’ve attempted to buy underwear somewhere other than a gapbody 100% organic cotton snooze-a-thon, the wise women of the changing room decided i was their sexywear samurai. seriously, it was nonstop. “does this fit?” (nope). “does make me look fat?” (yup). “100% silk stretches, right?” (wrong). “which one’s better?” (neither). i almost gave up and walked out until this sweet young thing tapped me on the shoulder:

her: excuse me.
me: yes?
her: [lifts up shirt] do you think see-through bras are weird?
me: do i think they’re weird?
her: yea, like do you think seeing this part [points to her boobs] is weird?
me: [pauses, thinks] no, i don’t it’s weird. i just– is someone else going to see it?
her: ummm … maybe. probably?
me: well, i don’t think they’re weird i just think [pauses, actually thinks] i think when someone else sees you in nothing but your bra and underwear, you’re at your most naked, your most vulnerable and the last thing you want to feel in that moment is unsafe or uncomfortable or uncertain. so i would have to say, if wearing a see-through bra makes you question your choices or feel unsafe or uncomfortable or uncertain in any way, don’t get it. don’t wear it.
her: [pauses, thinks] good point. thanks.
me: no problem.

namaste.
go get laid.

friend poll.

i like cause you like me
question = “what do you like?” via text.
time of day = sat, jan 12 @ 10pm est.
reason = ummmmfun.

quiet, david bowie, booties (sb)
songs, stories, american diners (ef)
road trips, pie, laughter (jg)
tight man butts, red wine, feeling safe (ep)
traveling, making movies, swimming (cn)
books, bourbon, candy (cs)
soulcycle, notre dame, traveling (ks)
hilary clinton (st)
bicycles, improv / laughter, interesting and inspiring magazine articles (cs)
loyal friends, beach vacations, walk-in closets (bs)
false eyelashes, pink bras, crab dip (js)
sunshine, ginger chews, salad (su)
being on / by the water, french girls w/ brown hair, wild animal screams / howls / roars / etc. (jk)
you, you, and you! (hm)
book of mormon, coffee, amy marsh (zr)
juggling a soccer ball with a friend or two outside, snekers with dope subtle colors, the feeling after a good swim when it’s hard to lift my own arms up to wash my armpits (nm)
surf, tits, beer (lf)
pancakes for dinner, 80s power ballads, awkward first kisses (lm)
jeopary, baked goods, that feel of “this is exactly where i want to be, what i want to be doing, and who i want to be with right now” (ar)
wheat toast, cigarettes, medium-sized dogs (aj)
nightmare before christmas, dc comics, legos (dg)
my girlfriend, scotch, movies (jj)
mint chocolate chip ice cream, meeting people with passions, the smell of newspapers (sm)
cheese, goats, corby (ni)
getting to the movie theater early, the crunch of wood chips when you walk on them, the shower after a run / lift, MONEY $$$$$ (mc)
bike rides, movies, well-made objects (ps)
the sound of rain on my air conditioner in the window (cs)
i like my friends, i like my cat, and i like mariah carey (bn)
sushi, trying something new, reciprocation (jk)
corgis, kombucha, kindness / consideration (sr)
music that makes the world spin around while i’m lying on the ground, funny ppl, snail mail (ml)
soulcycle, the view from my apartment at sunset on a clear day like today was, how i felt this week, you (dd)

ed. major apologies if my text came off as insincere weirdspam. a few weeks ago, i saw something on the internet that gave me the urge to text people i like and ask, “what do you like?” without context or expectation. i’ve now spent over two hours needle in a haystacking my google reader trying to find the thing that inspired me to do this in the first place, but … of course … nada. aaaaanyway, if you’re at all willing to look like a freaky weirdo via text message, i HIGHLY recommend doing this. each and every response made me laugh and smile and clap my hands together in 1000% joyful agreement. can’t ask for much more outta the weekend than that. also, corby is a dog.

instagram dat joint.


.
i almost didn’t watch this
b/c of the bro-y font choices.
but … well … then i did.

i have decided to excuse the
“look look funny stuff” aesthetic,
b/c 2:17 caused a scene at the oatmeal place.

Published
Categorized as .

this year.

kelly
picked up my winter coat from the dry cleaners and promptly made a list of all the really important things i want to accomplish in 2013:

no
more
wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiire
haaaaaangers.

bébé.

kids with swag
“my friend sari and i were talking about the experience of expecting a second child, and she said, because i knew what it felt like to love jude, i was able to tap into this deep, true kind of love for teddy from the very instant i knew i was pregnant with her. i loved that.” – cup of jo

jude …
teddy …

can we all pause?
for just a second?

THESE BABY NAMES ARE PRETENTIOUS AND ABSURD.

then make it your beeswax to be here by 9:30.

wet hot american summer
” . . . or a dinner at a restaurant where i was meeting two other couples. my wife was away, so i was flying solo. i arrived at two minutes to eight for an eight o’clock booking. at 8:20, i was into my second glass of pinot and at half-past i got a text saying ‘on the way’. we finally were all seated at 8:45. there were not even attempted excuses from either of the two couples, who seemed oblivious to the fact i might actually have got there at the agreed time. meanwhile i had put a huge dent in the bottle of pinot, and was ready to go home.

and it is not that we lead ‘busy lives’. that’s a given, we all do, and it’s a cop out to use that as an excuse. it’s simply that some people no longer even pretend that they think your time is as important as theirs. and technology makes it worse. it seems texting or emailing that you are late somehow means you are no longer late.

rubbish.
you are rude.
and inconsiderate.”
.
as a founding member of the “10 minutes early and always waiting for someone” club (read → i may or may not have chosen ‘prettypunctual’ as a username at one point in time), i love greg’s post and greg’s response equally.

cheers, indeed.