Another Night Out

C'est 3am, and I am back from another unfulfilling night in the NYCDS (new york city dating scene). I did, however, meet the love of my life. He was a cab driver, he was nice to me, and he told me he thought I wasn't very drunk. In New York, this equates to love at first sight. In college/abroad, love at first sight meant a tall geeky awkward guy with brown hair and glasses....but sometimes, I suppose, you have to manage expectations. So, in short, if anyone has Nadim the cab driver's phone number, please let me know.

In other news, I went to go get my post-drinking slice of cheese pizza, and the man said, "everytime you come here, you get the same thing, so many times, by yourself..." I yelled something about living far uptown, in a studio...but i've decided I will never be going to Zesty Pizza again. Read more

Just another day at the ol' office

*Names have been changed to protect the identity of catgirl*
Cat Girl: what is the perfume that you're wearing
Cat Girl: what, I can't ask
Lil Layne: its from the 99 cent rack at duane reade
Cat Girl: really
Cat Girl: do u need help with anything
Cat Girl: hello layne
Cat Girl: what are u working on
Cat Girl: hey do u need help]
Cat Girl: meow
Cat Girl: frisky
Cat Girl: meoooooooooow Read more

"You have kind eyes..."

The above phrase was recently said to me by a schizophrenic man who apparently wished to court me. I bring this up as introduction to my newest crisis of identity: What is it about me that says to the weak, the awkward, the mentally ill, the homeless and the unemployed, "I am approachable, and if you wink at me whilst simultaneously spitting on the ground, or scratching yourself, I am going to say, 'Bring it, you tiger'." I am really at a loss.

This phenomenon did not start upon my relocation to New York. I first noticed my ability to attract a....how do you say...unsavory clientele when I lived in Edinburgh. I specifically remembering one homeless man asking me for my phone number as I was walking back from a bar. I, in a moment of sheer cheekiness, gave it to him to see if he, the homeless man begging on the street, was going to whip out his cell phone to program it in (he did). I was also morbidly curious to see where said homeless beggar was going to take his lady out on the town, but, unfortunately for all, I guess at some point the homeless man begging on the streets had second thoughts about ME, the girl WITH a home, money, and employment opportunities, and he never called. It was a bit of an ego crushing moment.

Last fall, I had a similar experience. I was standing on some East Village street corner trying to inebriatedly hail a cab. I had been standing there for a good 20 minutes with my hand up (no cabs stopping) when I heard a human voice yelling, "BEEP BEEP". As I turned, I noticed I had hailed SOMETHING. Down the street came Joe Homeless Man, pushing a grocery cart. I started contemplating accepting a ride in his KMart Chariot, just to see if Joe Homeless Man was going to push me 90 or so blocks uptown. I then remembered that the last time I engaged a homeless beggar due to morbid curiosity, I ended up alone on a Sat. Night waiting for a phone call, sans date, so I opted against it. I told the man, "I would, normally, it is just that it is a bit chilly out, and I already have a cold, but, do have a good night." Joe Homeless Man then told me, "that's a shame, because i'd sure like to take you home." ("What home", I asked myself, but that is neither here nor there.)

Here's my rhetorical question that I don't expect you, my 2 readers, to actually answer: If it were Paris Hilton, rather than Layne Hilton, who had been in those situations --- would the homeless people have propositioned them? I don't think so.

I think my new experiment is going to be, when faced with a crazy homeless person who wants to date me, can I somehow out-crazy them so they are like "oh jesus...this one's more than I bargained for", and then back away from me. I think if I successfully do this like 2 or three times, I will be branded, and, perhaps, left alone. I mean, I have enough examples of crazy in my life (see below), that I think I could pull it off. I'l llet you, the 2 readers, know how it goes. Read more

LSAT Logical Reasoning Question

The above provides the strongest support for which of the following conclusions:

(A) - Sometimes people leave somewhat creepy presents at others' desks just to say "Hello".

(B) - Speaking generally, only children are not socially well adjusted.

(C) - Mount Holyoke wasn't the only place with freakshows.

(D) - Something about me attracts those referenced in (c).

(E) - Layne's Cat says "Meow!".

I had to post it for those who didn't believe me.

Read more

The Flight Home

I should have recognized the trip wasn't going to go well when I inadvertently made a joke that could have been perceived as slightly racist. A man walks into the plane, wearing a really remarkable Juicy Couture sweat jump ensemble. He is putting his suitcase away when he turned to me and said, "It don't fit, it just don't fit" in a joking manner. I, without even batting an eye or thinking about it, responded with, "If the glove don't fit…you must acquit." I was greeted with silence, an the man abruptly sat down. Later, he put his seat back ALL THE WAY, thus leaving me with no leg room. Folks, I have learned that it is still not okay to make an OJ Simpson joke. I thought that particular period of political incorrectness ended around the start of the Michael Jackson trial…I was wrong.

After settling in my seat, I finally notice my companions in aisle 22 for the next two hours. They appeared to be a couple, as I quickly spotted their Zales Jeweler knockoff wedding bands. The Husband looked like he had tried to be an extra elf on the set of Lord of the Rings WAY too many times: Long uncombed blonde hair, coupled with what appeared to be tunic made of second hand fabrics. He also wore gloves the ENTIRE flight. His wife was a petite girl who looked like she was 12—no joke. I notice this is going to devolve into an uncomfortable situation for me, their 3rd wheel, when they begin to nuzzle noses with one another.

The woman on my right had an ENTIRE aisle to herself. When we were all boarding the plane, this particular woman took out her cell phone and called her father. The following is an excerpt of their conversation:

Woman: Daddy, oh Daddy, I just wanted to call you to tell you I love you so much, it might be the last time I can tell you that (begins to cry, Layne is starting to think the woman who is in her late 40’s might be calling a sick father in the hospital or something), Daddy, oh god, I’m so scared, I mean…there are so many plane crashes, :::cries louder, Layne comes to realize this woman is a)unstable and b) under the belief we are going to die:::: the lord is my Shepard, remember I said that as my last words, cause I just have this feeling…I had this dream we were going to die..and my dreams are always true…oh I love you, tell mom I love her too…if I make it I’ll see you in 4 hours…but I probably won’t…so I love you
:::hangs up the phone, cries for a while, then asks the people in the full row in front of her if anyone wants to come sit next to her to keep her company..Not surprisingly, No one responds to her.

45 minutes into the flight I have realized the man in front of me will continue to recline his seat until we have to land. Coupled with the fact that the elfin and his lady-bride have escalated to rubbing each others appendages; the 2 open seats next to Crazy aren’t starting to look so bad.

I walk over and I sit down.
Crazy: What are you doing?
Layne: I am sitting here…more room and space and such…
Crazy: What’s wrong with your seat?
Layne: :::stammers, doesn’t know how to verbalize, “I don’t want to watch the long haired one get off while his underage wife pets his gloves”…so I try to tell the truth and end the resolve the situation with grace:::: I have a proclivity for blood clots, and if I don’t have enough room for my legs, I could die.
Crazy: :::stares at me, probably wondering whether she should bestow her psychic knowledge that I’m going to die anyways in our impending crash—a premonition she probably received when she was having a binge on illegal codeine or something, instead, she meekly shakes her head and I sit.

I decide to pull out my ipod for in-flight entertainment. Looks like Crazy brought something too…only I realize she has brought a puzzle of Old Macdonald’s Farm. I’m listening to the second chorus of “Santa that’s my only wish this year” Britney Spears style with my eyes closed trying to get a nap..when I feel someone petting my leg. I look down, and Crazy is on all fours looking for something with a minature flashlight (we’re talking, size of your pinkie miniature) attached to a set of rubber duckie, troll, and teddie bear key chains.

Layne: What are did you lose? :::”aside from your IQ, EQ, Verbal Reasoning, Quantitative Skills and Pride”, I think to myself::::
Crazy: Oh, I just lost this piece of my puzzle..I think it was the one with the dog on it :::Did Old MacDonald have a Dog on his farm?::::::
Layne: Oh, that’s a shame :::Layne puts back on earphones and hopes that premonition she had about the plane crash comes to fruition soon::::

Crazy sits up on the floor, hits her head on the tray table, and the rest of the puzzle pieces go flying.
Crazy: Can you help me pick these up?
Layne::::::right now God, right now…send the lightning bold to hit this plane and all of its cursed travelers RIGHT NOW, Layne closes her eyes and waits for the crack of the bolt, it doesn’t come:::: I’m….okay, I guess I can help

I get on all 4’s in manner of Old MacDonald’s Dog himself, and search for puzzle pieces. I finally realize that people are staring, and maybe going to associate me with this woman, so I get up and go to the back of the plane. I stand there for about 20 minutes, and then I finally go back down the aisle, and reclaim my spot next to the couple in my row, who are now spooning with one another as best they can--given the special limitations of the seat construction.

I put on my music loudly and I fall asleep for a while (Since I hadn’t slept for 2 days straight). I am awoken by an announcement telling everyone to put away their electronic equipment. I look over and I notice Crazy is putting her puzzle away. I think someone should have probably told her puzzles from toys r us don’t constitute electronic equipment, and that she could continue to piece together the scarecrow’s body...

Aside: I'm at the hotel Mr Paul just walked in and didn't acknoweldge my presence. Strike 2 old man, one more diss and you're out.

Well, that's all I have time for. Until Next Time... Read more

Food, Glorious Food.

Today friends, I tell you about my adventure with the Welfare System of America.

When Mother and Father were displaced by Katrina to Western MA, they realized that they had 1-no income and 2-no money. So they, like any hardworking American would, decided to file for unemployment and welfare benefits. Seeing as how they were branded with the scarlet K--they had no problem getting these sorts of benefits.

Joanne and Dennis left 4 days ago, and decided (probably against their better judgment), that rather than waste the money left over from their food stamps, they should give it to their over-indulged only child in the midst of finals. The following is a true and accurate account of what occurred on Monday Night.

::Layne pulls into a Super Stop and Shop in Holyoke, MA. She decided it was probably a better idea to go someplace where no one affiliated with Mount Holyoke College would be likely to shop. She removes her extra large pearl earrings and stuffs them in her jacket, as to look more "the part", and walks in. She takes note of the the self-check out machines, she decides this would be her best option as to make an un-noticed escape with no one to question her, she is relieved.:::

:::Layne immediately decides to purchase imported goods. Why buy cheap items when she could buy shortbread cookies made in Scotland, little crackers made in France, and mangos imported from south America. She also decides to buy soy crisps, expensive cereal, expensive organic granola bars, and the like. No one is going to see what she purchases anyways.:::

:::Layne proceeds to the self check out lane when she realizes...it doesn't exist. She had hallucinated it in her "food stamp shopping" fury. She becomes panicked. She pushes her cart around the store in manner of the psychotic female protagonist from the Charlotte Perkins Gilman short story, "the yellow wallpaper"...eager check out clerks ask her if she needs help, she doesn't answer---she just runs away and attempts to find solitude in the rice and mexican food aisle:::

:::Layne is about to give up. Maybe she should just leave the car there and walk out without anyone taking notice. That's when her eye accidentally falls on a Zatarain's New Orleans Style Jambolaya Box. She realizes, "I'm a refugee, damnitt!" and regains her nerve. She walks to checkout with a newfound confidence. She realizes if someone questions her, she will a) remind them of New Orleans and b) take the moral high road and tell them her mother is bedridden:::

:::The Clerk proceeds to scan her goods when Layne realizes, "A bed-ridden woman would not request soy crisps or cadburys chocolate with her limited meager assortment of foodstamps"..Maybe they won't notice she is swiping a card that says MASSACHUSETTS AID instead of VISA GOLD PLATINUM..she swipes and the games begin...:::

Layne: Um, nothing is happening with the screen
Clerk: What did you press?
Layne: No, i mean, i pressed the one i was supposed to press, but yeah, it um didn't work ::Getting panicked...the jig is up::
Clerk: I understand that, but which button was it
Layne: ::covering her mouth and coughing simultaneously::: Um, foodstamps
Clerk: What did you say?
Layne: :::coughing louder and covering mouth more::: Foodstamps
Clerk: ::over loudspeaker:: I need the manager on aisle five
::Layne breaks out into a cold sweat. Was it the coach wallet that gave it away? Maybe the blonde highlights? She starts eyeing her quickest get-away path:::
Manager: Now what seems to be the problem?? the machine not working? you wanted to press the EBT?? Here let me fix that ::Fixes machine, Layne swipes, no problem, Layne enters the code, gets her receipt and runs out of there as soon as possible:: Read more

This post is long over-due.

You know you've been waiting for it...so here it goes.

BBC Pride and Prejudice VS. Keira Knightley Pride and Prejudice

First of all, I'm just going to preface this by saying I am an EXTREME BBC Colin Firth/6 hour/P&P fanatic. Like a--I watch it when i'm going to sleep sometimes, when I come home drunk I put it in and sing along to the music and I signed up for 18th/19th century dance solely because I want to reenact the Darcy/EB Ball Scene at Netherfield--extreme fanatic. So OBV, i'm one of those tricky demographics who will be sure to pay the money to see the money, while maybe not actually enjoying the film itself because there is no wet white t-shirt bit w/c.firth. That having been said, I found the film quite delightful.

First of all the new Darcy is an absolute dreamboat. I mean, maybe i'm not the most discriminating judge of "Dreamboats" as I may have once sent Stephen Hawking a valentines e-gram asking him to be mine...but that's neither here nor there. The new Darcy was tortured, tall, dark, British--I loved it. To top it all off...he's not the age of my father, which was perhaps a downfall for Colin Firth. However, I must admit I was upset that he didn't jump into his lake in a white shirt though..that was always a favorite of mine.

K. Knightley was also quite good. I thought she would be too pretty--but luckily for us, she's only pretty with blonde hair. Her smile continues to irritate me, but I could look past it for these 2 1/2 hours. She and the actor who played Darcy had really good chemistry, methinks, and that added greatly to the film.

Biggest Pet Peeve: Wickham, WTF? Wickham's character is meant to make you want to meet him in the back of an alleyway when no ones watching, NOT ask you to come back to the record studio to sing the 6th refrain of MMMBOP. SERIOUSLY, this guy was TROLL. Long hair never looks good on men, specifically not men with blonde hair and ESPECIALLY not British Men. AND WHAT WAS WITH THAT MUSTACHE? He looked like an out of work porn star. Bad acting choice on that one.

Secondly, COLONEL FITZWILLIAM, WTF? He was also grotesque. Aside from his age (circa 84), he didn't seem fun, and I always got the sneaking suspicion that he was waiting for the Director to yell "CUT" so he could go back to the food trailer and get seconds on Fish and Chips.

Okay, well, that's about all I have time for, so I hope you've enjoyed.

Read more

Public Enemy Number 1

I don't normally make it a point to post pictures of those who have angered me in many ways, but I think a picture is most necessary here. For all purposes, let us refer to this woman just as Penny, or Ptay for short. I don't want to go so far as to say that this woman has ruined my senior year, but she's coming pretty close. PTay "teaches" me geology--and by "teaches" I mean to say she verbally abuses me, yells at me for not being able to read a topographic map, then breathes her not-so-colgate-fresh breath on my computer screen.

Today Ptay decided it would be a FABULOUS idea to hold a debate on energy---wow, she must have broken the brain piggy bank to think that one up. Adding insult to injury, she started laughing during my portion of the presentation---I guess PTay didn't appreciate my SLIGHTLY over-dramatic tone (okay, it wasn't so slight...at the end of the presentation I yelled "THIS IS OUR CHARGE WE MUST HEED IT", but whatever.) Next time she laughs at me I think I'm going to throw a sack of mail at her and tell her to deal with it (In a not-so-former life she used to deliver mail for the USPS...now she's dripping sweat on my notebook while telling me about Global Warming.) Read more

My new home ?

This morning my father got a phone call from FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency for all you non-refugees out there) asking if he wanted a trailer to live in. His answer? Hell Yes. So Come Christmas 2005, I won't be waiting for Old Saint Nick's arrival in my Garden District Home (which, might I remind everyone, is livable and quite pretty when decorated for Christmas)--I will be waiting for him to come down that vent hole at the top of my FEMA Trailer. Also, my parents have so generously given me the trailer for my own particular use once I graduate from college. My future is so bright, isn't it? Read more

The Re-birth of my blog?

Dear Friends,
I've been thinking long and hard about this, and I think I may resurrect my blog. I realize that it is a) not the spring anymore and I am b) not traveling, however I think perhaps blog writing could be good for me. It would DEFINITELY help me be productive in school--much like the facebook has...(fast forward to Layne sitting in the darkness of her room, scanning profile after profile, drinking caffeinated beve's whilst fox's prison break hums in the background)...

I'm going to be honest though, I think the blog will seriously help me with my anger management issues. I'm going to throw this out there...I seem to have an extremely large number of totally absolute freakshows inhabiting my life. For instance..Anyone in a cape, anyone who carries skulls to class..Anyone who steals a library carrel..I find that all of these people have become a detriment to my life. Therefore I am going to air all of these freaky freaky interactions on my blog as a means of purging myself of them.

Layne Read more