After Halloween, I am extremely hungover, and can only manage to make it to the couch in the den to lie there and watch a West Wing marathon. Roommate has been gone all day, started at 9am (when she was puttering around clanging pots and pans and agitating me in my extremely hungover/still drunk state). All of the sudden the door opens....
Roommate: (walks in and looks at me in fetal position on couch with remainders of chinese take out surrounding me while I am watching TV) Have you been here, all day?
Layne: (actually wants to vomit on her face to teach her a lesson about how to word questions in a non-judgmental manner) Yeah, I was out til 3am (and thinks to herself "as was the rest of the law school, except for, apparently, you)
R: I just came back from a pig roast. It was so interesting.
L: (Although the phrase "pig roast" does pique her interest, it is just too much energy, and she just continues to lie there)
R: There were many mormons there. It was a mormon pig roast.
L: (is broken out of her comatose with the revelation that she was no only eating pig from a stick today, she was with mormons too) HOW THE F*CK DO YOU FIND THESE EVENTS?
R: (Is shocked by L's sudden use of profanity) I was invited.
L: Did he have multiple wives? Did he want you to be his fifth wife? (L, laughing at her own culturally insensitive joke)
R: I do not understand
L: Some mormons are polygamists, how do you not know this? It's a very touchy subject.
R: Oh, i did not know about this. I will ask my friend about his views on polygamy.
L: That is not appropriate whatsoever. Like totally not appropriate. Do not say that, you will just embarrass yourself and make him feel uncomfortable.
R: (Is indignant) I do not think that is true at all. I will ask him next time I see him.
::::L decides she is a lost cause, and maybe she could watch her ask the mormon about his thoughts on polygamy, for the humor in it::::
Read more
Sunday, November 02, 2008
Technology
One day when driving roommate back from the grocery store (her favorite place in all of Atlanta), roommate comments on the technological state of America.
Roommate: I think America, for telling the world it is so advanced, is very technologically behind
Layne: :::picks the wrong moment to start listening to roommate::: What do you mean?
R: Well look here, there are these chords with the electricity, so old on the street, so old
L: (Getting agitated that roommate is talking while "Love, Lockdown" is playing on the radio) I don't understand your point at all.
R: In Munich, we have chords built under the street, Germany is so much more advanced than America
L: (thinking to herself, "i'm not so sure 'advanced' is how i'd describe a country which has public restrooms with blown out holes between the men's and women's bathroom" as she saw when she was in Germany) I mean, you can't really compare the two cities at all
R: I think you can compare, they are very similar.
L: (is starting to want to careen the car into one of the electrical posts which is the topic of the conversation, but traffic will not allow her to do so.) I mean, let's be honest here, WASN'T MUNICH REBUILT 50 YEARS AGO???
::: Awkward Silence::::
R: I mean, yes, it was rebuilt, but that is no reason why America can't put in these sorts of underground wire technologies like Munich
L: That is exactly a reason. When you rebuild a city, you get to start over. It is very hard to completely dismantle an infrastructure unless say, there is a world war which destroys the entire city. Then maybe you have time to do things like build electrical wires under ground. And New York City does have underground wires. So there.
::: L speeds car into parking lot and runs out as quickly as possible. Conversation is over.::::: Read more
Roommate: I think America, for telling the world it is so advanced, is very technologically behind
Layne: :::picks the wrong moment to start listening to roommate::: What do you mean?
R: Well look here, there are these chords with the electricity, so old on the street, so old
L: (Getting agitated that roommate is talking while "Love, Lockdown" is playing on the radio) I don't understand your point at all.
R: In Munich, we have chords built under the street, Germany is so much more advanced than America
L: (thinking to herself, "i'm not so sure 'advanced' is how i'd describe a country which has public restrooms with blown out holes between the men's and women's bathroom" as she saw when she was in Germany) I mean, you can't really compare the two cities at all
R: I think you can compare, they are very similar.
L: (is starting to want to careen the car into one of the electrical posts which is the topic of the conversation, but traffic will not allow her to do so.) I mean, let's be honest here, WASN'T MUNICH REBUILT 50 YEARS AGO???
::: Awkward Silence::::
R: I mean, yes, it was rebuilt, but that is no reason why America can't put in these sorts of underground wire technologies like Munich
L: That is exactly a reason. When you rebuild a city, you get to start over. It is very hard to completely dismantle an infrastructure unless say, there is a world war which destroys the entire city. Then maybe you have time to do things like build electrical wires under ground. And New York City does have underground wires. So there.
::: L speeds car into parking lot and runs out as quickly as possible. Conversation is over.::::: Read more
Resuming the Blog
Dear All,
I have decided to resume blogging, for one specific purpose: to blog about my current living situation.
Lil Layne has a new roommate. She is 20, 6'1, does not own a hair dryer or brush, is from Germany, is an only child, has never lived away from home until now, and sharing a small space with me.
Her hobbies include: talking on skype with her parents ("Hallo Mama!"), playing acoustic guitar at objectionable times of the night (who doesn't love the catchy tune "greensleaves" , walking in the woods and playing guitar, whistling, cooking (her favorite meal is peas, with canned tuna and feta, with a side of oatmeal, and some sour cream to eat with a spoon - yummy!)
She has a boyfriend who stayed with us for 3 weeks. She also had a friend who stayed with us for another 3 weeks the day after the boyfriend left. After these visitors have left, she has no one, except for me.
That should appropriately set the scene. Read more
I have decided to resume blogging, for one specific purpose: to blog about my current living situation.
Lil Layne has a new roommate. She is 20, 6'1, does not own a hair dryer or brush, is from Germany, is an only child, has never lived away from home until now, and sharing a small space with me.
Her hobbies include: talking on skype with her parents ("Hallo Mama!"), playing acoustic guitar at objectionable times of the night (who doesn't love the catchy tune "greensleaves" , walking in the woods and playing guitar, whistling, cooking (her favorite meal is peas, with canned tuna and feta, with a side of oatmeal, and some sour cream to eat with a spoon - yummy!)
She has a boyfriend who stayed with us for 3 weeks. She also had a friend who stayed with us for another 3 weeks the day after the boyfriend left. After these visitors have left, she has no one, except for me.
That should appropriately set the scene. Read more
Sunday, August 03, 2008
"How about that Tupac? He is a great rapper"
A couple of weeks ago I went down to DC for a much needed 3-day vacation before quitting my job. It was in DC that I met the newest character in the comedy of errors that is my life. Let us call him "Jeremy".
::Scene:: Local brew house in the Chinatown area of DC. Sunday Night. Two girls enter after dinner to have a quiet beer. As the two girls sip their drinks, they notice a lone man, age unknown, who pulls up at the bar next to them. He pulls out a phone, one that i mistakenly believed to be a blackberry, but then later realized it was just a nokia cell phone, circa 2000. He orders some obscure german drink that comes with a champagne-esque cork, and an extremely long glass. We stare.
Jeremy: Would you like to have a taste of my beer?
::L and A are totaly thrown off by this complete stranger's offer of a sip of his beverage. Could he be trusted? L looks down at his shoes and sees tennis shoes circa 1999, and high white socks..all worn with shorts, and thinks "no" to herself.::
L: You know, I am good with my beer right now...::L thinks to herself and adds, "and I don't share drinks with weird strangers with nokia phones from 2000"::
J: Alrighty then....so....what sort of music do you ladies like to listen to?
::Thrown off by this introductory question. Am used to such questions like, "do you come here often" or "What is your name, what do you do?">::
L: Gangsta Rap. I love Gangsta rap, dirty south rap, too...but the more gangsta, the better.
J: You know who is a great rapper? That Tupac Shakur. He can thrown down some rhymes. He is very talented.
The scene comes to a screeching halt. This was the first indication (other than the unsolicited invite for a sip of his drink) that there was something NOT RIGHT about this guy. Did he realize that Tupac had been dead for more than 10 years? Was that the only rapper he had ever heard of? No Jay-Z? No Kanye??
L: You know he's been dead for like...10..years right?
::Jeremy looks puzzled, and does not speak::
Amy: I like death cab, etc
J: You know who I love? Ben Harper. He is just so fresh and current and great.
::Another puzzling song choice. While we all loved Ben Harper back in say.....2003...I would never classify him as "fresh" and "current"::
J: He wrote this great song, you should youtube the video. It is a song with pictures of the actor named Heath who died. It is very moving
It turns out, that our gentleman caller was a 32 year old aiming to get his community college degree. He had spent the last 10+ years in Germany, working in an unspecified army job, and more recently, he was an "intern" at bnp paribas. We soon realized that because he had been out of the country for hte last 10 years, his cultural references were totally and completely dated. Examples:
1) He thought Tupac was alive
2) He asked us if we had seen in any good movies in the theaters lately, and he mentioned the last 3 movies he saw in the theaters. They were released in 2002.
3) His cell phone was from 2000.
He was also a weird romantic. He told me that Annie Hall was the most romantic movie he had ever seen, and he wanted to go to New York to walk past the Tiffany's store that he had seen so many times in Breakfast at Tiffany's.
We continued to talk to Jeremy for a long while. He told us we were very intelligent because we have read books. He told us his favorite author is John Grishom. He also told us about "german traditions" like how in Germany, people bring cakes to work for birthdays, and they have special "German Traditions" called the "JPMorgan Chase Corporate Challenge" race. I broke it to him that all of those things happen in the united states too, but he argued with me and told me it was a "special" german tradition.
As the evening came to a close, we begin to realize that we are probably the first two people this guy has spoken to in 10 years, as he seems on the brink of panic that we are leaving him. He pulls out the nokia, and the dreaded question comes out: "...So, do you think maybe we could all exchange contact information...."
Note to self: do not give clingy 30 somethings who apparently have no friends contact information, because they will then proceed to call 230329 times, text 392 times, and email once. And even if you tell them, "wrong number", the will say, "that is weird, because I met someone who was named Lane..."
Maybe I shouldn't be picky...lest I end up at the dreaded Table for One. Read more
::Scene:: Local brew house in the Chinatown area of DC. Sunday Night. Two girls enter after dinner to have a quiet beer. As the two girls sip their drinks, they notice a lone man, age unknown, who pulls up at the bar next to them. He pulls out a phone, one that i mistakenly believed to be a blackberry, but then later realized it was just a nokia cell phone, circa 2000. He orders some obscure german drink that comes with a champagne-esque cork, and an extremely long glass. We stare.
Jeremy: Would you like to have a taste of my beer?
::L and A are totaly thrown off by this complete stranger's offer of a sip of his beverage. Could he be trusted? L looks down at his shoes and sees tennis shoes circa 1999, and high white socks..all worn with shorts, and thinks "no" to herself.::
L: You know, I am good with my beer right now...::L thinks to herself and adds, "and I don't share drinks with weird strangers with nokia phones from 2000"::
J: Alrighty then....so....what sort of music do you ladies like to listen to?
::Thrown off by this introductory question. Am used to such questions like, "do you come here often" or "What is your name, what do you do?">::
L: Gangsta Rap. I love Gangsta rap, dirty south rap, too...but the more gangsta, the better.
J: You know who is a great rapper? That Tupac Shakur. He can thrown down some rhymes. He is very talented.
The scene comes to a screeching halt. This was the first indication (other than the unsolicited invite for a sip of his drink) that there was something NOT RIGHT about this guy. Did he realize that Tupac had been dead for more than 10 years? Was that the only rapper he had ever heard of? No Jay-Z? No Kanye??
L: You know he's been dead for like...10..years right?
::Jeremy looks puzzled, and does not speak::
Amy: I like death cab, etc
J: You know who I love? Ben Harper. He is just so fresh and current and great.
::Another puzzling song choice. While we all loved Ben Harper back in say.....2003...I would never classify him as "fresh" and "current"::
J: He wrote this great song, you should youtube the video. It is a song with pictures of the actor named Heath who died. It is very moving
It turns out, that our gentleman caller was a 32 year old aiming to get his community college degree. He had spent the last 10+ years in Germany, working in an unspecified army job, and more recently, he was an "intern" at bnp paribas. We soon realized that because he had been out of the country for hte last 10 years, his cultural references were totally and completely dated. Examples:
1) He thought Tupac was alive
2) He asked us if we had seen in any good movies in the theaters lately, and he mentioned the last 3 movies he saw in the theaters. They were released in 2002.
3) His cell phone was from 2000.
He was also a weird romantic. He told me that Annie Hall was the most romantic movie he had ever seen, and he wanted to go to New York to walk past the Tiffany's store that he had seen so many times in Breakfast at Tiffany's.
We continued to talk to Jeremy for a long while. He told us we were very intelligent because we have read books. He told us his favorite author is John Grishom. He also told us about "german traditions" like how in Germany, people bring cakes to work for birthdays, and they have special "German Traditions" called the "JPMorgan Chase Corporate Challenge" race. I broke it to him that all of those things happen in the united states too, but he argued with me and told me it was a "special" german tradition.
As the evening came to a close, we begin to realize that we are probably the first two people this guy has spoken to in 10 years, as he seems on the brink of panic that we are leaving him. He pulls out the nokia, and the dreaded question comes out: "...So, do you think maybe we could all exchange contact information...."
Note to self: do not give clingy 30 somethings who apparently have no friends contact information, because they will then proceed to call 230329 times, text 392 times, and email once. And even if you tell them, "wrong number", the will say, "that is weird, because I met someone who was named Lane..."
Maybe I shouldn't be picky...lest I end up at the dreaded Table for One. Read more
Monday, March 03, 2008
Dear New York,
New York, I've been meaning to have a chat with you recently. Look, we gave it a really good shot...but..I just don't think it's working out anymore. You don't have enough time for me, and I, quite honestly, don't have enough money for you. While it would be easy for me just to cut and run, I'd like you to know why we are breaking up. You didn't get the best of me. You weren't too tough for me. I'm just over it. And here are the things I am done with:
The Dating Scene
New York, this might be the cruelest thing about you. Its like you woke up one morning and thought: how can I REALLY make them hurt. I know, I'll create a wretched excess of wealth, an army of overly aggressive short men who take that money, and then an overstock of women. The most attractive go to the unattractive short busted rich men, and the rest are left to fight over the halal cart guy, or the misunderstood schizophrenic guy outside Grand Central. The thing is this: I wonder if the men of New York recognize how EASY they have it?? 80% of the men in relationships in this city would be shut down every night of the week in any other city.
The Subway Commute in the Morning
New York, nothing makes me closer to losing it than my subway ride in the morning. 1) I don't get the couples who stand in the subway and feel the need to peck on each other for the 6 minute ride. I also hate how everyone else has to make adjustments and move around to avoid the overly affectionate couples on the subway. Next overly affectionate couple I see whispering and nibbling on each others lips, I swear to god, I'm going to spit on them. In their eyes. It's going to happen. 2) WHO ARE THESE MOTHER F*CKERS WHO STAND AT THE DOORS WHEN PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO GET OFF OR ON? It's like they are SO SCARED they will lose their spot. Hey, guy, it's not like you're on the last lifeboat to get off the titanic here. 3) Clinque Happy. There is nothing that brings me closer to a homicidal tipping point than when I suddenly smell Clinique Happy on the train. A) The year 2001 called, it wants its fragrance back, and B)The guy at work you are probably trying to impress with your scent is probably attracted to your 21 year old dumb secretary anyway - hate to break it to you.
Being "Thrown Under the Bus"
I never once heard that phrase in my life before I moved here, but now it is part of my daily vocabulary. Not only am I thrown under the bus every day, but I in turn throw others under the bus. And the sad thing is this: i don't even realize when I throw someone under the bus anymore. It is just instinct. Throw or be thrown.
Blackberries
I really want a blackberry. So this post is mostly airing my grievances about not having a blackberry. All of my friends have them. I should have one too. But, I don't want to get my own blackberry -- that is so pathetic. I want someone to tell me i'm so important and valuable that I need a blackberry. This will clearly never happen. My entire worth as an employee comes from the fact that I can format an index and print out labels. I wouldn't be surprised if I found out that when I went on vacation I was actually being replaced by some well programmed robot software that only has "Binder of Documents" programmed into its language.
Attorney: "Hey Layne, can you get me that..."
Robot: "Binder of Documents"
Attorney: Great Job! Thx.
Attorney,: Layne, where can I find that stuff?
Robot: The Binder of Documents
Attorney: u r a rockstar!!
Attorney: Layne, I need you to come up and get some stuff"
Robot: The Binder of Documents"
Attorney: YOU GOT IT! You WILL be making a binder of documents. You don't even need instructions you are so good! Read more
The Dating Scene
New York, this might be the cruelest thing about you. Its like you woke up one morning and thought: how can I REALLY make them hurt. I know, I'll create a wretched excess of wealth, an army of overly aggressive short men who take that money, and then an overstock of women. The most attractive go to the unattractive short busted rich men, and the rest are left to fight over the halal cart guy, or the misunderstood schizophrenic guy outside Grand Central. The thing is this: I wonder if the men of New York recognize how EASY they have it?? 80% of the men in relationships in this city would be shut down every night of the week in any other city.
The Subway Commute in the Morning
New York, nothing makes me closer to losing it than my subway ride in the morning. 1) I don't get the couples who stand in the subway and feel the need to peck on each other for the 6 minute ride. I also hate how everyone else has to make adjustments and move around to avoid the overly affectionate couples on the subway. Next overly affectionate couple I see whispering and nibbling on each others lips, I swear to god, I'm going to spit on them. In their eyes. It's going to happen. 2) WHO ARE THESE MOTHER F*CKERS WHO STAND AT THE DOORS WHEN PEOPLE ARE TRYING TO GET OFF OR ON? It's like they are SO SCARED they will lose their spot. Hey, guy, it's not like you're on the last lifeboat to get off the titanic here. 3) Clinque Happy. There is nothing that brings me closer to a homicidal tipping point than when I suddenly smell Clinique Happy on the train. A) The year 2001 called, it wants its fragrance back, and B)The guy at work you are probably trying to impress with your scent is probably attracted to your 21 year old dumb secretary anyway - hate to break it to you.
Being "Thrown Under the Bus"
I never once heard that phrase in my life before I moved here, but now it is part of my daily vocabulary. Not only am I thrown under the bus every day, but I in turn throw others under the bus. And the sad thing is this: i don't even realize when I throw someone under the bus anymore. It is just instinct. Throw or be thrown.
Blackberries
I really want a blackberry. So this post is mostly airing my grievances about not having a blackberry. All of my friends have them. I should have one too. But, I don't want to get my own blackberry -- that is so pathetic. I want someone to tell me i'm so important and valuable that I need a blackberry. This will clearly never happen. My entire worth as an employee comes from the fact that I can format an index and print out labels. I wouldn't be surprised if I found out that when I went on vacation I was actually being replaced by some well programmed robot software that only has "Binder of Documents" programmed into its language.
Attorney: "Hey Layne, can you get me that..."
Robot: "Binder of Documents"
Attorney: Great Job! Thx.
Attorney,: Layne, where can I find that stuff?
Robot: The Binder of Documents
Attorney: u r a rockstar!!
Attorney: Layne, I need you to come up and get some stuff"
Robot: The Binder of Documents"
Attorney: YOU GOT IT! You WILL be making a binder of documents. You don't even need instructions you are so good! Read more
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
An Open Letter to Barack Obama
Dear Barack,
My name is Layne Hilton. I want to work for you. I am very good at making binders and sorting through documents. You rock my world. Every time you speak, I shout and raise my hands in the air in my petite crackden studio apartment in Spanish Harlem. You are my valentine (I've even picked out the E-Card I plan on awkwardly sending you). Please give me a job. I would make a very good personal assistant. Just think about it. I'll even let you stay at my parents' bed and breakfast FOR FREE if you give me a job. I think it's a win/win - you get a dedicated personal assistant AND a free room in New Orleans. Think about it.
Love you,
Layne Read more
My name is Layne Hilton. I want to work for you. I am very good at making binders and sorting through documents. You rock my world. Every time you speak, I shout and raise my hands in the air in my petite crackden studio apartment in Spanish Harlem. You are my valentine (I've even picked out the E-Card I plan on awkwardly sending you). Please give me a job. I would make a very good personal assistant. Just think about it. I'll even let you stay at my parents' bed and breakfast FOR FREE if you give me a job. I think it's a win/win - you get a dedicated personal assistant AND a free room in New Orleans. Think about it.
Love you,
Layne Read more
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Round Table Discussion Question
For any of my readers who have had the pleasure (?) of traveling in Europe with me, you are well familiar with my "Round Table Discussion Questions," that I often bring up in a setting with strangers once some alcohol has been consumed. In any event, one of the crowd pleasing discussion questions (especially in my English Major circles) is, "which literary character would you most like to sleep with, if he or she were a real human being."
Mr. Darcy is clearly one of the crowd favorites. I must confess, I thought of this post because I am watching Colin Firth a la Darcy on PBS as I type this. He is probably my number 1. Why do women go crazy for Darcy? I can't really answer this question...it's very difficult to pinpoint what it is about him. I am obviously attracted to his judgmental pride. Also, I love the way he gets stuff done. Lydia Bennett goes and f's it up with Wickham? Darcy takes care of business and makes it right without saying anything. I also love the way Elizabeth can totally attack him when he initially proposes, and instead of just taking it and being a wimp, he sets her straight. He's also extremely wealthy and could have anyone, but opts for Elizabeth because of her wit and intelligence.
Rochester (Jane Eyre). First of all, my (and my friends) extreme attraction to Rochester might mean we are actually masochists. Amy said that Edward Rochester is the precursor to Chuck Bass -- and I have to say, I agree. Let's be honest here -- secret wife locked up in the attic? HOT. Dressing up like a fortune teller to play games with your governess and ask her if she is in love with you? HOT. There is something about the Jane/Rochester relationship which is soo disturbed. Do we all remember when Rochester tells Jane that he and this other woman are getting married, and she is going to be sent away, just to see how she reacts? WHAAAA??? And yet? I just can't get enough.
Atticus Finch. The hot righteous lawyer single father. I'm obviously a fan of him because a) he is a righteous lawyer and b) he is so open-minded, and tries to teach his children to be the same. The single father thing? I'm not so much into as some other of my friends who I have spoken to -- although I will agree that any man who is good with children is very attractive.
Heathcliff. YES. Now, what is it about Heathcliff that gets the ladies going? I'm not entirely sure. Dark, brooding, vindictive -- what's not to love? Also, isn't it flattering how psychotic he becomes after Catherine Earnshaw leaves him? I hope to drive a man to that sort of behavior.
Some of the other answers I have gotten to the question are as follows:
Gatsby
Sydney Carton
Max de Winter
Jake Barnes (although, there are some issues with him...)
John Thornton (one of my faves)
Rhett Butler
Holden Caufield
Dean Moriarty
It is always interesting to ask men this question -- because the answers I receive tend to be very illustrative. I would expect things like "Daisy Miller" or "Daisy Buchannan" or "Becky Sharp". Instead, I have gotten, "That girl from Nicholas Sparks 'The Notebook" or "That broad from James Bond." This only has furthered my idea that men actually do not read. Read more
Mr. Darcy is clearly one of the crowd favorites. I must confess, I thought of this post because I am watching Colin Firth a la Darcy on PBS as I type this. He is probably my number 1. Why do women go crazy for Darcy? I can't really answer this question...it's very difficult to pinpoint what it is about him. I am obviously attracted to his judgmental pride. Also, I love the way he gets stuff done. Lydia Bennett goes and f's it up with Wickham? Darcy takes care of business and makes it right without saying anything. I also love the way Elizabeth can totally attack him when he initially proposes, and instead of just taking it and being a wimp, he sets her straight. He's also extremely wealthy and could have anyone, but opts for Elizabeth because of her wit and intelligence.
Rochester (Jane Eyre). First of all, my (and my friends) extreme attraction to Rochester might mean we are actually masochists. Amy said that Edward Rochester is the precursor to Chuck Bass -- and I have to say, I agree. Let's be honest here -- secret wife locked up in the attic? HOT. Dressing up like a fortune teller to play games with your governess and ask her if she is in love with you? HOT. There is something about the Jane/Rochester relationship which is soo disturbed. Do we all remember when Rochester tells Jane that he and this other woman are getting married, and she is going to be sent away, just to see how she reacts? WHAAAA??? And yet? I just can't get enough.
Atticus Finch. The hot righteous lawyer single father. I'm obviously a fan of him because a) he is a righteous lawyer and b) he is so open-minded, and tries to teach his children to be the same. The single father thing? I'm not so much into as some other of my friends who I have spoken to -- although I will agree that any man who is good with children is very attractive.
Heathcliff. YES. Now, what is it about Heathcliff that gets the ladies going? I'm not entirely sure. Dark, brooding, vindictive -- what's not to love? Also, isn't it flattering how psychotic he becomes after Catherine Earnshaw leaves him? I hope to drive a man to that sort of behavior.
Some of the other answers I have gotten to the question are as follows:
Gatsby
Sydney Carton
Max de Winter
Jake Barnes (although, there are some issues with him...)
John Thornton (one of my faves)
Rhett Butler
Holden Caufield
Dean Moriarty
It is always interesting to ask men this question -- because the answers I receive tend to be very illustrative. I would expect things like "Daisy Miller" or "Daisy Buchannan" or "Becky Sharp". Instead, I have gotten, "That girl from Nicholas Sparks 'The Notebook" or "That broad from James Bond." This only has furthered my idea that men actually do not read. Read more
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
"You're a bastard from a Basket"
Tonight I went to see There Will Be Blood -- and the only thing I can say is WOAH. Daniel Day Lewis deserves the best actor of the decade with that performance. But, 2 readers, I am not going to become a movie critic. That's not why you, my 2 dedicated readers, keep tuning in.
I don't know if my 2 french/astorian readers know this about me, but I REALLY enjoy going to movies by myself. It's probably an only child thing...but I love going to the Times Sq movie theater and sitting by myself, not sharing my soda or twizzlers and watching a movie in the quiet. Tonight wasn't quiet though.
I'm sitting there reading Time Magazine listening to classical music on my ipod, when all of the sudden, two extremely disheveled men roll in singing the Macarena. It doesn't a brain surgeon to realize that these two are junkies. As they take their seats, one junkie takes off his socks, and starts screaming, "ITS SO DIRTY IN HERE. SUCIO. SO DIRTY" while hitting the other junkie (who, we later find out, is junkie A's father) in the face. As an aside, I'm not entirely sure how the junkies paid for the movies, nor what their interest in Daniel Day Lewis was, but c'est la vie. So, after Junkie A aired his grievances about the cleanliness of the movie theater (let us keep in mind he looked like the last time he showered was in the Clinton presidency), he started turning around yelling, "Hello Party People!!!" to the crowd. Let us also keep in mind that the crowd looked like a whole foods/NPR listening crowd. NOT party people.
The lights go out, and the movie begins. BUT WAIT, Junkie A realizes he has to go to the restroom. He yells, "don't start without me!!!" and runs into the bathroom. Upon his return (the movie didn't wait, btw), he yells, "WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU???" His seat was not difficult to find, as it was the FRONT ROW.
In the middle of the movie, Junkie A (I presume Junkie B had actually passed out at this point) gets up, puts his jacket on, and looks like he is going to go outside to smoke. But wait, there is more! Junkie A can't get him enough of Daniel Day, so he stands in the front of the theater (coat on) and LIGHTS UP AND STARTS SMOKING. I kept turning around waiting for someone to yell at him, but it seems as though the rest of the NPR crowd was just as scared as I was.
Movie finishes and it seems as though the worst is maybe over. WRONG. Somehow, even though I tried to time it so that I would not be anywhere near the junkies as we go down the 6 flights of escalators to the outside, I find myself between A and B as we make our way down. Junkie B was extremely concerned with trying to zip up his hoodie, as Junkie A yelled, "PA YOU ALWAYS BREAK EVERYTHING. ROMPERLO. You can't keep ANYTHING NICE!" At this point, Junkie A tries to prove his classiness. Junkie A takes out a bag of coke. He places it on the escalator railing. He then rolls up cigarette paper and begins going to town with the coke. Right there. On the escalator. By the Dave and Busters. On the escalator Railing. I would have yelled out, "SERIOUSLY" if I hadn't been clutching my purse and fearing for my life.
I think it might be time to move. Read more
I don't know if my 2 french/astorian readers know this about me, but I REALLY enjoy going to movies by myself. It's probably an only child thing...but I love going to the Times Sq movie theater and sitting by myself, not sharing my soda or twizzlers and watching a movie in the quiet. Tonight wasn't quiet though.
I'm sitting there reading Time Magazine listening to classical music on my ipod, when all of the sudden, two extremely disheveled men roll in singing the Macarena. It doesn't a brain surgeon to realize that these two are junkies. As they take their seats, one junkie takes off his socks, and starts screaming, "ITS SO DIRTY IN HERE. SUCIO. SO DIRTY" while hitting the other junkie (who, we later find out, is junkie A's father) in the face. As an aside, I'm not entirely sure how the junkies paid for the movies, nor what their interest in Daniel Day Lewis was, but c'est la vie. So, after Junkie A aired his grievances about the cleanliness of the movie theater (let us keep in mind he looked like the last time he showered was in the Clinton presidency), he started turning around yelling, "Hello Party People!!!" to the crowd. Let us also keep in mind that the crowd looked like a whole foods/NPR listening crowd. NOT party people.
The lights go out, and the movie begins. BUT WAIT, Junkie A realizes he has to go to the restroom. He yells, "don't start without me!!!" and runs into the bathroom. Upon his return (the movie didn't wait, btw), he yells, "WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU???" His seat was not difficult to find, as it was the FRONT ROW.
In the middle of the movie, Junkie A (I presume Junkie B had actually passed out at this point) gets up, puts his jacket on, and looks like he is going to go outside to smoke. But wait, there is more! Junkie A can't get him enough of Daniel Day, so he stands in the front of the theater (coat on) and LIGHTS UP AND STARTS SMOKING. I kept turning around waiting for someone to yell at him, but it seems as though the rest of the NPR crowd was just as scared as I was.
Movie finishes and it seems as though the worst is maybe over. WRONG. Somehow, even though I tried to time it so that I would not be anywhere near the junkies as we go down the 6 flights of escalators to the outside, I find myself between A and B as we make our way down. Junkie B was extremely concerned with trying to zip up his hoodie, as Junkie A yelled, "PA YOU ALWAYS BREAK EVERYTHING. ROMPERLO. You can't keep ANYTHING NICE!" At this point, Junkie A tries to prove his classiness. Junkie A takes out a bag of coke. He places it on the escalator railing. He then rolls up cigarette paper and begins going to town with the coke. Right there. On the escalator. By the Dave and Busters. On the escalator Railing. I would have yelled out, "SERIOUSLY" if I hadn't been clutching my purse and fearing for my life.
I think it might be time to move. Read more
Thursday, January 31, 2008
More Missed Connections
Thanks to Amy's Comment on my last entry (see below), I've remembered some more.
Date: March 2006
Location: London
You: Syrian
You were Syrian and devilishly attractive. I was blonde and drunk. You offered to take me with you to the Brixton Mosque. I was leaving the bar when my meddlesome friends stopped and said they thought they had foiled a kidnapping attempt. I liked the direction you and I were going in -- let's try to re-kindle that.
Date: March 2006
Location: Princes "Hotel", London
You: Desk-Clerk
You were the best thing about the Princes "Hotel". That was, of course, until we told you how our room lacked electricity, running water, and had been recently invaded by a homeless naked woman who broke down the door in the middle of the night. You REFUSED to give us a refund. I think under different circumstances, we could have been friends...maybe more...
Date: May 2006
Location: North Rockefeller Hall
You: Classmates from Chicopee High of one Hayden "Bellenliar", a professor of mine who faked a British Accent, despite growing up in Western MA.
I was first drawn to you because you knew my fraudulent professor when he was in high school (and not faking a British accent). Then, upon further reflection (approx 17 min later) my friend and I texted you and one of your friends to come back to campus for a late night party. Upon even FURTHER reflecton (2 min after the text), we decided it was a bad idea, and told you to turn around and go back home. One of you *may* have been a high school teacher. The other *may* have been an ex-con. Read more
Date: March 2006
Location: London
You: Syrian
You were Syrian and devilishly attractive. I was blonde and drunk. You offered to take me with you to the Brixton Mosque. I was leaving the bar when my meddlesome friends stopped and said they thought they had foiled a kidnapping attempt. I liked the direction you and I were going in -- let's try to re-kindle that.
Date: March 2006
Location: Princes "Hotel", London
You: Desk-Clerk
You were the best thing about the Princes "Hotel". That was, of course, until we told you how our room lacked electricity, running water, and had been recently invaded by a homeless naked woman who broke down the door in the middle of the night. You REFUSED to give us a refund. I think under different circumstances, we could have been friends...maybe more...
Date: May 2006
Location: North Rockefeller Hall
You: Classmates from Chicopee High of one Hayden "Bellenliar", a professor of mine who faked a British Accent, despite growing up in Western MA.
I was first drawn to you because you knew my fraudulent professor when he was in high school (and not faking a British accent). Then, upon further reflection (approx 17 min later) my friend and I texted you and one of your friends to come back to campus for a late night party. Upon even FURTHER reflecton (2 min after the text), we decided it was a bad idea, and told you to turn around and go back home. One of you *may* have been a high school teacher. The other *may* have been an ex-con. Read more
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Missed Connections
I've always been a fan of the Craigslist Missed Connections. In that spirit, i've decided to have my own recurring "Missed Connections" for all the various and sundry missed connections I have.
Date: Christmas Break 2002
Location: Bradley Airport (CT)
You: A Senior at Yale, reading Gore Vidal from MS. Around 6'3
We were seated next to eachother on a flight home. Started making small talk about stereotypes people have about the south, history, and college. I made a comment about missing my connection to New Orleans, and you said, "you can always come home with me to Mississippi," in a southern drawl. I swooned. Eventually, it was discovered that I had sat in the wrong seat, and had to move. You also discovered that I *wasn't* reading Gore Vidal, and was instead reading Cosmo. Despite all of that, I think we could have been something.
Date: JYA 2005
Location: Edinburgh
You: A scottish law student, very tall, details hazy due to alcohol
We met at a place called "Establishment" on 50p night. I was probably close to blackout drunk, but I do remember you were moderately attractive, and smart. I will remember you as the *classiest* person I ever "met" on 50pence night.
Date: Fall of 2006
Location: Mail Room of Random Law Firm
You: A Mail Room Clerk named "Gary Barry"
This isn't a missed connection, per se. You actually barred the door of the Mail Room when I went to your law firm to deliver some papers by hand. You forced me to take your number on a routing slip --- Gary Barry" was scrawled in Serial Killer print. I always wondered what happened to you, not because I was intrigued, but because I always wondered if you saw the irony of your alliterative name.
Date: Last Week
Location: 6 Train
You: Awkward Male who I had seen purchasing a "Meal for One" at a local deli on the UES.
I think you are the male version of me -- except I think I saw you giving money to a mariachi band, and I turned up the Snoop Dogg. Every time I see you, you are alone. Why don't you take that money you gave to the homeless musicians and put it towards a date with me? Read more
Date: Christmas Break 2002
Location: Bradley Airport (CT)
You: A Senior at Yale, reading Gore Vidal from MS. Around 6'3
We were seated next to eachother on a flight home. Started making small talk about stereotypes people have about the south, history, and college. I made a comment about missing my connection to New Orleans, and you said, "you can always come home with me to Mississippi," in a southern drawl. I swooned. Eventually, it was discovered that I had sat in the wrong seat, and had to move. You also discovered that I *wasn't* reading Gore Vidal, and was instead reading Cosmo. Despite all of that, I think we could have been something.
Date: JYA 2005
Location: Edinburgh
You: A scottish law student, very tall, details hazy due to alcohol
We met at a place called "Establishment" on 50p night. I was probably close to blackout drunk, but I do remember you were moderately attractive, and smart. I will remember you as the *classiest* person I ever "met" on 50pence night.
Date: Fall of 2006
Location: Mail Room of Random Law Firm
You: A Mail Room Clerk named "Gary Barry"
This isn't a missed connection, per se. You actually barred the door of the Mail Room when I went to your law firm to deliver some papers by hand. You forced me to take your number on a routing slip --- Gary Barry" was scrawled in Serial Killer print. I always wondered what happened to you, not because I was intrigued, but because I always wondered if you saw the irony of your alliterative name.
Date: Last Week
Location: 6 Train
You: Awkward Male who I had seen purchasing a "Meal for One" at a local deli on the UES.
I think you are the male version of me -- except I think I saw you giving money to a mariachi band, and I turned up the Snoop Dogg. Every time I see you, you are alone. Why don't you take that money you gave to the homeless musicians and put it towards a date with me? Read more
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Real World Hamaca: The Next Chapter
It has dawned on me that I never finished my "Real World Hamaca" series for you, my dedicated 2 French/Astorian readers. No time like the present.
When we last left the Gringos Americanos, the Canadians had invaded, people were laying it all out there on the bed in the middle of the Ocean, a male of undetermined age had begun following me, even though I insisted on calling him the Sherminator, no one knew anyones name, and my converse had gone missing.
The next morning after the Great Canadian Invasion, the island was abuzz with the prospect of attractive people, flowing alcohol, and possibilities. I was slightly less optimistic about the possibilities than my friends were -- lest we forget that while they were pairing off with the Canadian Electrician three amigos, I was left to fend for myself at an impromptu party by the Ocean bed being courted by one underage Canadian who was flashing me, and the Sherminator who was holding my drink, lip gloss and Dominican Dollars.
It was decided that we should throw a party in our hotel room for the Canadian Electrician trio. We prepared the room for beer pong (yes, we brought our own silo cups and ping pong balls), and brought out the ipod and speakers. The Canadians arrive, and immediately, things are off to a rocky start. 1) The Canadians don't look like they looked the night before AT ALL 2) The cutest guy who looked awkward in a polo the previous night rolled in with some sort of faux Dior graphic tee and white loafers, and 3) They were already drunk, and maybe high. I, being an unbiased non-party to these proceedings, immediately start laughing, and thinking to myself, "Sherminator isn't looking so bad right now".
To say that my friends were feeling like the party was, perhaps, a mistake was an understatement. No one was talking, so I start taking shots of our alcohol (yes, we brought our own), and start getting aggressively confrontational with the electricians. I begin asking questions about education level, national health care, and the like. My friends give me, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING" looks, but I forge on. Eventually, one Canadian and I get in a screaming fight about the practicality of the word, "eh", versus the word, "y'all". The conversation ended with him telling me, "you think you're smarter than me", and me saying, "affirmative". At this point we decide to leave to go to the Sport Bar.
Upon entering Sport Bar (Remember, this was the name of the "discoteca" at the real world Hamaca), the shit began to hit the fan. To spare my french/astorian readers, things with the Canadian Electricians began to unravel, and it looks like they decided to take us all in their wake. In order to escape the messiness, I go outside. It is at the outside bar where I meet the love of my life, a Canadian Opera Singer named Spence.
Unclear as to how I actually *met* Spence --- I was almost blackout drunk. But, before I knew it, this 19 year awkwardly tall brown haired Canadian was serenading me with Johnny Cash. I was eating it up. Spence confides in me and tells me about how he sometimes lies about "the cool clubs and bars I go to on the weekend -- you know, girls want a cool guy, but I just enjoy staying at home and reading or watching movies, or going to the opera" (I swooned a little). He tells me about his favorite bass solos in opera (I swooned some more). At this point, we're both pretty drunk, and I ask him if we can sing a duet. We make our way to the ocean, we walk in the ocean (in jeans) and start singing Britney Spears in duo whilst hugging. At the time, I thought that hugging a boy 4-5 years my junior in the ocean while singing was probably the most predatory thing i've ever done, but I was soon to be corrected.
We return back to the Ocean side bar, and things are REALLY MESSY, with the Canadian electrician trio. I just laugh, and introduce them to my new 19 year old Opera Singing friend. They called him some...unflattering...names. All of the sudden, like Deus Ex Machina, the SHERMINATOR RE-APPEARS. As I turn to him to tell him to get me another drink and to hold my shoes, Spence beats me to the punch and says, "Adam, what are you doing here?? You should be with Mom and Dad". I ask, "Hey Johnny Cash, how do you know the Sherminator??". Spence very bluntly replies,"He's my brother, he just turned 17."
I'm not sure what the look on my face was -- probably a combination of horror, disgust, and self loathing. So, the individual I was calling the Sherminator, who I was leading around the beach, and ordering to pick up my alcoholic beverages was 7 years younger than me.
When someone who is pursuing you was a baby when you were reading CHAPTER BOOKS, it is time to Call it a Night. So I, like any self-respecting uncommon woman, decide to head back to the hotel room.
As it turns out, after we left, Spence started vomming, and passed out on an Ocean chair -- his parents and siblings found him there the next morning -- his jeans were wet, and he had some vomit on his shirt. So, perhaps he wasn't the respectful, nerdy, Canadian Opera-Loving wunderkind I had made him out to be.
On the Season Finale of the Real World Hamaca, the Canadian Electrician Three Amigos start getting "real" with us by letting us know how they REALLY feel, Spence has no memory of the duet we sang together, some Greek Dentists enter the picture and save the day, and we say Goodbye to the Coral Hamaca. Read more
When we last left the Gringos Americanos, the Canadians had invaded, people were laying it all out there on the bed in the middle of the Ocean, a male of undetermined age had begun following me, even though I insisted on calling him the Sherminator, no one knew anyones name, and my converse had gone missing.
The next morning after the Great Canadian Invasion, the island was abuzz with the prospect of attractive people, flowing alcohol, and possibilities. I was slightly less optimistic about the possibilities than my friends were -- lest we forget that while they were pairing off with the Canadian Electrician three amigos, I was left to fend for myself at an impromptu party by the Ocean bed being courted by one underage Canadian who was flashing me, and the Sherminator who was holding my drink, lip gloss and Dominican Dollars.
It was decided that we should throw a party in our hotel room for the Canadian Electrician trio. We prepared the room for beer pong (yes, we brought our own silo cups and ping pong balls), and brought out the ipod and speakers. The Canadians arrive, and immediately, things are off to a rocky start. 1) The Canadians don't look like they looked the night before AT ALL 2) The cutest guy who looked awkward in a polo the previous night rolled in with some sort of faux Dior graphic tee and white loafers, and 3) They were already drunk, and maybe high. I, being an unbiased non-party to these proceedings, immediately start laughing, and thinking to myself, "Sherminator isn't looking so bad right now".
To say that my friends were feeling like the party was, perhaps, a mistake was an understatement. No one was talking, so I start taking shots of our alcohol (yes, we brought our own), and start getting aggressively confrontational with the electricians. I begin asking questions about education level, national health care, and the like. My friends give me, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING" looks, but I forge on. Eventually, one Canadian and I get in a screaming fight about the practicality of the word, "eh", versus the word, "y'all". The conversation ended with him telling me, "you think you're smarter than me", and me saying, "affirmative". At this point we decide to leave to go to the Sport Bar.
Upon entering Sport Bar (Remember, this was the name of the "discoteca" at the real world Hamaca), the shit began to hit the fan. To spare my french/astorian readers, things with the Canadian Electricians began to unravel, and it looks like they decided to take us all in their wake. In order to escape the messiness, I go outside. It is at the outside bar where I meet the love of my life, a Canadian Opera Singer named Spence.
Unclear as to how I actually *met* Spence --- I was almost blackout drunk. But, before I knew it, this 19 year awkwardly tall brown haired Canadian was serenading me with Johnny Cash. I was eating it up. Spence confides in me and tells me about how he sometimes lies about "the cool clubs and bars I go to on the weekend -- you know, girls want a cool guy, but I just enjoy staying at home and reading or watching movies, or going to the opera" (I swooned a little). He tells me about his favorite bass solos in opera (I swooned some more). At this point, we're both pretty drunk, and I ask him if we can sing a duet. We make our way to the ocean, we walk in the ocean (in jeans) and start singing Britney Spears in duo whilst hugging. At the time, I thought that hugging a boy 4-5 years my junior in the ocean while singing was probably the most predatory thing i've ever done, but I was soon to be corrected.
We return back to the Ocean side bar, and things are REALLY MESSY, with the Canadian electrician trio. I just laugh, and introduce them to my new 19 year old Opera Singing friend. They called him some...unflattering...names. All of the sudden, like Deus Ex Machina, the SHERMINATOR RE-APPEARS. As I turn to him to tell him to get me another drink and to hold my shoes, Spence beats me to the punch and says, "Adam, what are you doing here?? You should be with Mom and Dad". I ask, "Hey Johnny Cash, how do you know the Sherminator??". Spence very bluntly replies,"He's my brother, he just turned 17."
I'm not sure what the look on my face was -- probably a combination of horror, disgust, and self loathing. So, the individual I was calling the Sherminator, who I was leading around the beach, and ordering to pick up my alcoholic beverages was 7 years younger than me.
When someone who is pursuing you was a baby when you were reading CHAPTER BOOKS, it is time to Call it a Night. So I, like any self-respecting uncommon woman, decide to head back to the hotel room.
As it turns out, after we left, Spence started vomming, and passed out on an Ocean chair -- his parents and siblings found him there the next morning -- his jeans were wet, and he had some vomit on his shirt. So, perhaps he wasn't the respectful, nerdy, Canadian Opera-Loving wunderkind I had made him out to be.
On the Season Finale of the Real World Hamaca, the Canadian Electrician Three Amigos start getting "real" with us by letting us know how they REALLY feel, Spence has no memory of the duet we sang together, some Greek Dentists enter the picture and save the day, and we say Goodbye to the Coral Hamaca. Read more
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