Yo to my ho's.
I've been told by many (and by many I mean, like, two people tops) that they are deeply looking forward to the TV-shows-I-hate-post, but to be honest I've been quite dreading it. If you disagreed with the shows I love, then it's whatever. No harm done. You still respect me as a person, for the most part. However, if you disagree with the shows I hate, there's a good chance you might not look at me the same again. Ever. Depending, of course, on how strong your love is for the show I despise.
Not to mention, I don't exactly have a concrete explanation citing proper evidence for why I cannot stand these shows. Most of them I haven't even watched for more than five minutes, but that's because they're the worst. I just don't like them. Why can't that be enough. I trust my gut for a lot of things, and so far it hasn't steered me wrong. Except for that one time I ate that expired yogurt...
Alright, here we go. In no particular order, here are 10 shows I hate with very little explanation as to why:
The Big Bang Theory-- From my experience, this seems like a love/hate kind of show. I just so happen to absolutely despise it. I can't even stand the sound of their voices. "Mehhh my name is Sheldon and I'm named after a turtle but I'm really smart so I'm gonna make you feel dumb! lol" PASS. And the girl isn't even that hot.
Seinfeld-- I know a few people in particular (cough, Mark) are not gonna be happy about this making this list, but I just never really caught on to it. Maybe I don't like the actors, maybe it's too 90s for me (though I still love Friends, which is as 90s as it gets), maybe I don't like the format, maybe the humor isn't clever enough. Whatever the real reason is, I'm not a fan. Period.
Here Comes Honey Boo Boo-- This show embodies everything that I hate about America into one, 30 minute slot. They're fat, stupid, and disgusting. But I will give them this much: they do really enjoy spending time together, and they all seem to love each other very much. CORNY whatever.
Two And A Half Men-- Another show that I always avoid. Charlie Sheen looks like a crow that wants to rape you. None of them are good actors. And it's been on for about nine years too long. Yes, it's been on for nine years. I looked it up.
How I Met Your Mother-- You all hate me, I know. How I Met Your Mother has been on for a few seasons too long as well. I've given it a shot, but there was nothing spectacular about it to keep me coming back. Jason Segel is by far the saving grace. Love him.
Any "Real Housewives" show-- How can they claim that these are real housewives? First of all, nothing about them is "real," including their personalities. Or faces. Or boobs. Second of all, nah... I'm good. No more.
The Secret Life of the American Teenager-- I'm sorry, so every American teenager gets pregnant during high school, marries a bunch of dudes, is a terrible actress, and has Molly Ringwald as a mom? THANK GOODNESS THE SECRET IS OUT. I feel so relieved. Great portrayal of our already-hated country. Thumbs up.
American Idol-- When you've changed judges four times, it's about time to call it quits. Does anyone even watch this show anymore besides my parents? Yeah, didn't think so.
Dancing With the Stars-- "Stars" is a very loose term here. If I'm going to waste my time watching a dance show, I want to watch people who can actually dance (So You Think You Can Dance, anyone? Love that show.) These people are washed-up, fat, desperate actors who are attempting to crawl their way back into whatever dim limelight they had in the first place. Plus, Tom Bergeron is the host. 'Nuff said.
Gilmore Girls-- The "banter" drives me crazy. No one thinks that fast. I actually did watch quite a bit of this show when I was in high school because one of my good friends liked it, but I secretly never did. Simply put: it's annoying.
Kostecki, out.
(You see what I did there? American Idol reference, what up)
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
This Will Take You Over an Hour to Enjoy
HELLO.
Guess I haven't posted for a while... cry me a river. To make up for my lack of attention to this blog, this post will be full of links/videos/my bitchy opinions.
Let's jump right in. I go through spurts of watching TV depending on how busy I am after work and how many friends I have (which is still, like, two for the record). Lately I haven't been keeping up with very many TV shows, but I still have my classic favorites (and not-so-favorites) that I'd like to share with all of you. You're welcome.
Imma split this up into two posts cause it'd probs be media overload, and I'm sure half of you will be too lazy to watch all the goodies included in this. I also would like to add that I gained my excellent taste in TV shows mostly because of my brother's influence. I know he'd rather punch himself in the face than read my blog, but I still feel obligated to thank him for that. Thanks bro.
My top 10 shows (in random order; too much thought involved to actually rank them) that you should watch, plus little slices of awesome from each:
Arrested Development-- I pick up on new jokes almost every time I watch this show. Pity it was cancelled after three amazing seasons. Buster is my favorite character.
Tosh.0-- Not only would I drop my pants for Tosh in a second, but for some reason I'm drawn to his equal mistreatment of every race and type of person. I could definitely do without all of the puking videos though.
Teen Mom 2-- Watching other peoples' train-wreck lives makes me feel really great about my own. It's just one bad decision after another, and it's even a bad decision to watch this show. This was the best clip I could come up with...
South Park-- Such a consistently good show. Clever, relevant, and ruthless. This clip gets me every time.
Cougar Town-- I would say this is a guilty pleasure, but I don't feel guilty about loving this show. All they do is drink wine and hang out. I want to be part of their Cul de Sac Crew, damnit! And if a show makes me want to be friends with the characters, then it's a-ok in my book. Plus they make fun of their shitty title on the reg, so that's cool. Plus, who doesn't love a good ol' game of penny can?
Happy Endings-- Chicago based, ridiculous plot, hilarious. Brad is my favorite. Again, I'd cut off my left boob to be friends with them. Too bad they don't exist in real life... or... do they?
Workaholics-- Directly give credit to the broski for this one. You gotta be fresh.
Destination Truth-- Another bro show (rhyme five! (Cougar Town reference)). Oddly entertaining for one of those stupid let's-look-for-monsters-that-don't-exist shows; they don't try to fabricate things and make it seem like the boogie monster exists. And the people are actually pretty funny.
Too Cute-- I always get SO excited whenever this show is on Animal Planet. I could seriously watch it for hours and not get sick of it. What's better than puppies and kittens clumsily running around in slow motion? Correct answer: nothing.
Archer--60% smart ass, 30% clever, and 20% hilarious. Wait...
So give them a shot. If you don't like them, then I could always just disown you as a friend.
To come: 10 shows that I fucking hate.
Hope Santa doesn't give you coal. PAZ.
Guess I haven't posted for a while... cry me a river. To make up for my lack of attention to this blog, this post will be full of links/videos/my bitchy opinions.
Let's jump right in. I go through spurts of watching TV depending on how busy I am after work and how many friends I have (which is still, like, two for the record). Lately I haven't been keeping up with very many TV shows, but I still have my classic favorites (and not-so-favorites) that I'd like to share with all of you. You're welcome.
Imma split this up into two posts cause it'd probs be media overload, and I'm sure half of you will be too lazy to watch all the goodies included in this. I also would like to add that I gained my excellent taste in TV shows mostly because of my brother's influence. I know he'd rather punch himself in the face than read my blog, but I still feel obligated to thank him for that. Thanks bro.
My top 10 shows (in random order; too much thought involved to actually rank them) that you should watch, plus little slices of awesome from each:
Arrested Development-- I pick up on new jokes almost every time I watch this show. Pity it was cancelled after three amazing seasons. Buster is my favorite character.
Tosh.0-- Not only would I drop my pants for Tosh in a second, but for some reason I'm drawn to his equal mistreatment of every race and type of person. I could definitely do without all of the puking videos though.
Teen Mom 2-- Watching other peoples' train-wreck lives makes me feel really great about my own. It's just one bad decision after another, and it's even a bad decision to watch this show. This was the best clip I could come up with...
South Park-- Such a consistently good show. Clever, relevant, and ruthless. This clip gets me every time.
Cougar Town-- I would say this is a guilty pleasure, but I don't feel guilty about loving this show. All they do is drink wine and hang out. I want to be part of their Cul de Sac Crew, damnit! And if a show makes me want to be friends with the characters, then it's a-ok in my book. Plus they make fun of their shitty title on the reg, so that's cool. Plus, who doesn't love a good ol' game of penny can?
Happy Endings-- Chicago based, ridiculous plot, hilarious. Brad is my favorite. Again, I'd cut off my left boob to be friends with them. Too bad they don't exist in real life... or... do they?
Workaholics-- Directly give credit to the broski for this one. You gotta be fresh.
Destination Truth-- Another bro show (rhyme five! (Cougar Town reference)). Oddly entertaining for one of those stupid let's-look-for-monsters-that-don't-exist shows; they don't try to fabricate things and make it seem like the boogie monster exists. And the people are actually pretty funny.
Too Cute-- I always get SO excited whenever this show is on Animal Planet. I could seriously watch it for hours and not get sick of it. What's better than puppies and kittens clumsily running around in slow motion? Correct answer: nothing.
Archer--60% smart ass, 30% clever, and 20% hilarious. Wait...
So give them a shot. If you don't like them, then I could always just disown you as a friend.
To come: 10 shows that I fucking hate.
Hope Santa doesn't give you coal. PAZ.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
Hwhiskey
Here's another Elmhurst adventure from Thanksgiving for you:
My friends Annie, Abby, and I were at a bar in the ‘hurst,
and it was getting pretty late. We were about 30 minutes from closing time, and
we had struck up a conversation with three gentlemen. Turns out they were three
years our senior. They were talking a big game, and were trying to talk us into
taking shots (AKA shaking tots). They asked what we wanted shots of, but for
some reason I have the hardest time choosing drinks when someone else is
buying. Actually, I’m sure that’s not an uncommon problem. But anyway. So these
bros were all like, oh ok, then how bout whiskey? And I was like, ok perfect. I love whiskey. James (that was his name) was
shocked, to say the least, and proceeded to dub me as a “keeper” for liking
whiskey. I was oddly flattered.
The shots are poured, and I take mine like a champ. Drink it
in, it always goes down smooth. Guy-whose-name-I-forgot winced like a
15-year-old girl. Naturally, I called him out on it and made fun of him. He
then proceeded to claim that I’d be "on the floor" in 10 minutes. Does he even
know me? Don’t answer that. Then, get this, he ended up actin’ a foo’ in 10
minutes while I was still playing it cool. RHYMES. Somehow I’m not surprised.
Then they called their other friend over to meet us, and ended up wandering
away. They must have been embarrassed/intimidated by their lack of drinking
skillz and my occasional tank-like tendency. But really, don’t be impressed.
Cause sometimes I’m almost, ALMOST, hung over after having two beers the
previous night. Can I chalk that up to old people problems yet? Don’t answer
that either.
Peace out, girl scout.
Saturday, November 24, 2012
From Airport to Bar in Sixty Minutes
Hey turds.
As some may know, I recently traveled back to the 'burbs of Chicago for Thanksgiving. My flight landed at O'Hare at 9:15pm. I arrived at my house (after much traffic) at 10:00pm. I met my dear friend, Annie, at the bar at 10:20pm. Good use of time, right?
Now, Annie and I really haven’t gotten the chance to catch up since I moved to Boston, so we had about a month and a half of things to discuss. Needless to say, both of our lives have been unusually eventful lately, so we knew this could take at least two beers.
About 10 minutes after we arrived, drunk dude #1 walks in to the bar, beelines (while stumbling at the same time) directly toward us, and introduces himself. He must have been at least 30, but acted like he was 18 tops. He bothered us for about 45 minutes, so I’ll try to make a long walk short: he tried to set us up with his creepy short friend who did nothing to keep him in check, asked us if we were married, accused us of calling him ugly, then called me ugly, shook our hands about six times, acted offended when he offered us up to the guy across the bar (him and I had a lovely conversation about hurricane Sandy), and left/came back at LEAST seven times.
To put it lightly, I wanted to cut off his testicles with a blunt knife. Whenever Annie and I finally had 10 minutes to get deeper into our conversation, #1 would stumble back and interrupt us. Additionally, Annie and I are both too polite to tell someone to fuck off, so I had a bad feeling that if we didn’t say something this would go on for the whole night. We’d continue our process of nodding, smiling, and conversation killing.
So I finally manned up and told him to please gtfo. Except I really said something like this: “I don’t want to be rude, but my friend and I haven’t seen each other for almost two months, and it’s getting really hard to catch up with you interrupting us all the time. So would you please just leave us alone?” Pretty mature/adult, right? And it actually did the trick. 10 points to Gryffindor.
Shortly after, drunk #2 made his move. He was at the bar with his grandpa, cute right? Not so much. His g-pa ended up falling asleep while his grandson was attempting to hit on us, and the bartender had to tell him he couldn’t sleep here. #2 stared at us for a good 30 minutes before actually coming up to us (which is super creepy, don't do that.), was from Bolivia, was very impressed (for some reason) that I knew Bolivia is in South America, asked us our names three to four times, and came up to talk to us four plus times. Uh-noying.
Essentially, we were the bar’s entertainment for the night. Two different groups of girls came up to us and apologized for drunk #1 and #2, and offered to come to the rescue if necessary. Which was very nice.
In conclusion, here are my tips to how to effectively meet people at a bar (types of people may vary):
• Wear a blazer or long sleeved t+scarf.
• Act engulfed in your conversation, that way people will know they should interrupt.
• Don’t make eye contact with people. This is also apparently an indication that you want to be approached.
• Go to the bar with ONE (this is very important) girl friend. Oh, and make sure you’re a girl too.
Shout out to Abby, HOLLA.
As some may know, I recently traveled back to the 'burbs of Chicago for Thanksgiving. My flight landed at O'Hare at 9:15pm. I arrived at my house (after much traffic) at 10:00pm. I met my dear friend, Annie, at the bar at 10:20pm. Good use of time, right?
Now, Annie and I really haven’t gotten the chance to catch up since I moved to Boston, so we had about a month and a half of things to discuss. Needless to say, both of our lives have been unusually eventful lately, so we knew this could take at least two beers.
About 10 minutes after we arrived, drunk dude #1 walks in to the bar, beelines (while stumbling at the same time) directly toward us, and introduces himself. He must have been at least 30, but acted like he was 18 tops. He bothered us for about 45 minutes, so I’ll try to make a long walk short: he tried to set us up with his creepy short friend who did nothing to keep him in check, asked us if we were married, accused us of calling him ugly, then called me ugly, shook our hands about six times, acted offended when he offered us up to the guy across the bar (him and I had a lovely conversation about hurricane Sandy), and left/came back at LEAST seven times.
To put it lightly, I wanted to cut off his testicles with a blunt knife. Whenever Annie and I finally had 10 minutes to get deeper into our conversation, #1 would stumble back and interrupt us. Additionally, Annie and I are both too polite to tell someone to fuck off, so I had a bad feeling that if we didn’t say something this would go on for the whole night. We’d continue our process of nodding, smiling, and conversation killing.
So I finally manned up and told him to please gtfo. Except I really said something like this: “I don’t want to be rude, but my friend and I haven’t seen each other for almost two months, and it’s getting really hard to catch up with you interrupting us all the time. So would you please just leave us alone?” Pretty mature/adult, right? And it actually did the trick. 10 points to Gryffindor.
Shortly after, drunk #2 made his move. He was at the bar with his grandpa, cute right? Not so much. His g-pa ended up falling asleep while his grandson was attempting to hit on us, and the bartender had to tell him he couldn’t sleep here. #2 stared at us for a good 30 minutes before actually coming up to us (which is super creepy, don't do that.), was from Bolivia, was very impressed (for some reason) that I knew Bolivia is in South America, asked us our names three to four times, and came up to talk to us four plus times. Uh-noying.
Essentially, we were the bar’s entertainment for the night. Two different groups of girls came up to us and apologized for drunk #1 and #2, and offered to come to the rescue if necessary. Which was very nice.
In conclusion, here are my tips to how to effectively meet people at a bar (types of people may vary):
• Wear a blazer or long sleeved t+scarf.
• Act engulfed in your conversation, that way people will know they should interrupt.
• Don’t make eye contact with people. This is also apparently an indication that you want to be approached.
• Go to the bar with ONE (this is very important) girl friend. Oh, and make sure you’re a girl too.
Shout out to Abby, HOLLA.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Boyz
What up, thugs?
Warning: this blog post undoubtedly will make me come off as conceited, judgmental, and/or rude. But whatever, I tell it how it is.
K, so I've officially been in Boston for a month, and I was hoping to have met the man of my dreams by now. But alas, all of the scenarios I've concocted about meeting the perfect guy in the Public Garden or on the T on my way to work have yet to come to fruition. But never fear, friends! I've sure had some winners approach me in the past week. Check it:
Monday. Waiting for the train after work. Some dude wearing glasses, a gray track jacket, and some form of khaki-colored dress pants asks me if a Lechmere train has come by yet. I know what you're thinking: he doesn't sounds so bad at all! False. He's not wearing any form of fashionably acceptable glasses frames/shape. Wire framed. Oval. And a track jacket? Come on. Unless you're super jacked or an athlete of some sort, you just look like a dweeb (I hope you're taking notes, boys).
So I reply with something like, "No... not yet. I've only been here for a few minutes though." He doesn't say anything back, yet continues to stare at me. Smiling. Creepily. I then, of course, pretend to be fascinated by the granola bar ad across the tracks.
Another train comes by. Government Center. He looks at me again, smiling. I just kinda shrug my shoulders as if I'm actually upset my train hasn't come yet. This happens again about two more times. And I'm feeling increasingly awkward. He tries to start conversation again a few times, but it's pretty damn loud and I can't hear anything he's saying. I nod and smile, and promptly look away again. Finally the right train comes, and he looks at me AGAIN smiling. I'm determined not to have any further conversation with him. I smush my way into the train, almost have my ass pinched by the doors, and I'm free. Is it bad that I'd rather have my face in some stranger's ass than talk to that guy?
Wednesday. Waiting for the bus after work. It's snowing. A shockingly similar guy to the first one stands next to me, and asks me what time it is. TYPICAL. "It's 5:35," I reply, disinterested. Hunk #2 has the type of haircut where it's almost like he has really short bangs, and the precipitation plastering it to his forehead isn't helping him any. He then goes on to ask me if I work around here (TYPICAL), says he works by the Charles River (don't care.), and that it's too bad he forgot his umbrella today... but good things it's snowing, cause he can just shake it off his jacket (complete with a demonstration)! I reply with just enough information to not be rude. I proceed to pull out my phone, text my mom, and act as preoccupied as possible. Clearly the guys are just lining up wanting to take me out.
Now, the problem isn't necessarily with the strategy, but with the execution. Well, that combined with their poor fashion choices. I mean, A for effort and for these guys having the balls to start up a conversation with me, but what exactly did they think was going to happen? I wouldn't go asking out Brad Pitt. I'm just sayin'. Thank goodness I never gave them enough to work with for them to deem it appropriate to ask me out, cause then I'd have to make up a fake boyfriend. Ok, so I'm an asshole. Tell me something I don't know.
Take it sleazy, and I'm out.
Warning: this blog post undoubtedly will make me come off as conceited, judgmental, and/or rude. But whatever, I tell it how it is.
K, so I've officially been in Boston for a month, and I was hoping to have met the man of my dreams by now. But alas, all of the scenarios I've concocted about meeting the perfect guy in the Public Garden or on the T on my way to work have yet to come to fruition. But never fear, friends! I've sure had some winners approach me in the past week. Check it:
Monday. Waiting for the train after work. Some dude wearing glasses, a gray track jacket, and some form of khaki-colored dress pants asks me if a Lechmere train has come by yet. I know what you're thinking: he doesn't sounds so bad at all! False. He's not wearing any form of fashionably acceptable glasses frames/shape. Wire framed. Oval. And a track jacket? Come on. Unless you're super jacked or an athlete of some sort, you just look like a dweeb (I hope you're taking notes, boys).
So I reply with something like, "No... not yet. I've only been here for a few minutes though." He doesn't say anything back, yet continues to stare at me. Smiling. Creepily. I then, of course, pretend to be fascinated by the granola bar ad across the tracks.
Another train comes by. Government Center. He looks at me again, smiling. I just kinda shrug my shoulders as if I'm actually upset my train hasn't come yet. This happens again about two more times. And I'm feeling increasingly awkward. He tries to start conversation again a few times, but it's pretty damn loud and I can't hear anything he's saying. I nod and smile, and promptly look away again. Finally the right train comes, and he looks at me AGAIN smiling. I'm determined not to have any further conversation with him. I smush my way into the train, almost have my ass pinched by the doors, and I'm free. Is it bad that I'd rather have my face in some stranger's ass than talk to that guy?
Wednesday. Waiting for the bus after work. It's snowing. A shockingly similar guy to the first one stands next to me, and asks me what time it is. TYPICAL. "It's 5:35," I reply, disinterested. Hunk #2 has the type of haircut where it's almost like he has really short bangs, and the precipitation plastering it to his forehead isn't helping him any. He then goes on to ask me if I work around here (TYPICAL), says he works by the Charles River (don't care.), and that it's too bad he forgot his umbrella today... but good things it's snowing, cause he can just shake it off his jacket (complete with a demonstration)! I reply with just enough information to not be rude. I proceed to pull out my phone, text my mom, and act as preoccupied as possible. Clearly the guys are just lining up wanting to take me out.
Now, the problem isn't necessarily with the strategy, but with the execution. Well, that combined with their poor fashion choices. I mean, A for effort and for these guys having the balls to start up a conversation with me, but what exactly did they think was going to happen? I wouldn't go asking out Brad Pitt. I'm just sayin'. Thank goodness I never gave them enough to work with for them to deem it appropriate to ask me out, cause then I'd have to make up a fake boyfriend. Ok, so I'm an asshole. Tell me something I don't know.
Take it sleazy, and I'm out.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Things I Love
Hey howdy hey.
As promised, I'm countering my negativity with things I love. I'm happy to say I think this list is considerably larger than the Things-I-Hate list, so I guess that's a good thing.
As promised, I'm countering my negativity with things I love. I'm happy to say I think this list is considerably larger than the Things-I-Hate list, so I guess that's a good thing.
Things I love:
Sleeping freshly changed sheets. So fresh and so clean clean.
Pickles. My roommate and I were oddly excited when we discovered that we both love pickles.
Putting in a new pair of contacts. It's like seeing the world in a whole new light... everything is so damn clear!
Asian babies. Not quite sure when this fascination started. But they're so stinking cute.
This dog. Still makes me lol.
Naps. There was a time when I took a nap every single day. And I was definitely not mad about it.
Drinking heavily and waking up without a hangover. I feel like I got away with murder or something.
Remembering dreams. Future blog post: one of my messed up dreams.
Bow ties. Made
both my prom dates wear them. What's up.
Laughing. A day is not complete without laughter. I especially love when other people's laughs make you laugh even more.
Funny people. If you can make me laugh, I want you to be my friend.
Red
lipstick. Rawr.
New Zealand accents. Not alive. You know, did.
Nail polish. I have a whole toolbox
full of it. Yes, a toolbox. And I made it myself.
This song. And I especially love the photo that accompanies the video.
People watching. Everyone does it. Best when done wearing sunglasses.
Sitting on a roof/porch/balcony. I love being outside. I love having a different vantage point. And I apparently love heights.
Watching storms. GET AT ME HURRICANE SANDY
Chapstick. Specifically, Lip Smackers chapstick. Yes, I'm 7.
Post-it notes. I'm insanely organized. And Post-it notes make me happy.
Looking at the stars. I've never really lived in a place where you can see them very well, so seeing a star full of skies is like seeing a unicorn to me.
Candles. Perfect for fall. Great gifts. Good for setting the mood.
Snuggies. I was a Snuggie hater for a while, but then I got one for Christmas. They're kind of awesome. And ridiculous at the same time.
Google doodles. Those doodles during the Olympics this summer kept me entertained for longer than I'd like to admit.
Lamp.
See you later crocodile.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Things I Hate
Hi friends.
Alright, so this post is going to be particularly complain-y. Everyone has things that bother them, and I decided to list them all out. But this isn't an original thought. This guy did it first. And then Tosh did it better (sorry for the awful video quality, couldn't find a better one). Below you will find a list of things that piss me off. But don't worry! It's not all negativity up in here. My next post will highlight things I love.
Hopefully this was more entertaining than offending. Duces.
Alright, so this post is going to be particularly complain-y. Everyone has things that bother them, and I decided to list them all out. But this isn't an original thought. This guy did it first. And then Tosh did it better (sorry for the awful video quality, couldn't find a better one). Below you will find a list of things that piss me off. But don't worry! It's not all negativity up in here. My next post will highlight things I love.
Things I hate:
People canoodling at the bus stop at 8am. I don't wanna see that shit. Not at 6pm. Not at noon. And especially not at 8am. Get a room.
Women (key word here) over the age of 12 who wear their hair in pigtails. You're not cute. You're not in a porno. And you're not a child. So wear your hair like an adult.
Carrots. Though I do very much like cooked carrots. Weird? Probably. Get over it.
Scary movies. I value my sleep waaaaay to much to put myself through this torture.
Southern accents. I'm sorry, but I just can't take you seriously.
Birds. See original things-I-hate video. He sums it up pretty well.
Big Bang Theory (the TV show). I could mock how dumb it is all day long. It's not funny.
Paper cuts. Who knew such a common office supply could be so deadly?
Figuring out how
much to tip. I chose a career path without involving math for a reason. Why can't we just adopt Europe's no-tip policy?
When you leave a Kleenex in a clothing item and then it goes through the laundry. I just had to lint roll my entire bed set. Uh-noying.
Buses.
This is my #1 thing I hate right now. They never come on time, they're
inconsistent, the drivers are rude, people are sneezing all over the
damn place. They put a serious damper on my day, and I'm always cranky
after taking the bus. Next year my apartment will be very close to the
train.
Monday, October 22, 2012
The Ginger Exchange (It Has a Soul) & Harvard Square
Sup, boners?
Guess who had three, count it, THREE friends this weekend?!
Well, at least for Friday night. Caleb (Lauren’s boyfriend) came down from New
Hampshire for the weekend, and Mark ventured to good ol’ Somerville for the
night. And Lauren counts as a friend too. BOOM.
So my numerous friends and I decided to go to a place in
Inman Square called the Ginger Exchange for a riveting game of trivia. We, of
course, managed to show up late, but we still snagged a table and a spot in the
game. After little discussion, we dubbed ourselves…. THE AMERICAN DREAM.
Predictable, I know. But it’s hard to think under a time crunch. We ordered
ourselves a beer tower of PBR—America’s beer—and got down to business.
There were questions regarding astronomy, geography, TV,
cars, sports, and music. Your typical game of trivia. Aaaaaaaand we KILLED it.
On opposite day. We sucked. But that’s ok, cause we really weren’t playing to
win, just to fun. I’m preeeeetty sure we came in last place with a whopping
50-something points, and the first place team was in the 90’s. It’s whatever,
we had a great time. We finished off the night with some bar hopping and turned
in just after 2:00. We’re so hardcore. And get this: we drank the next night
too. Look who’s still trying to be young!
Saturday night was a bit more eventful. Caleb, Lauren, and I
traveled to the faraway land of Harvard Square (it’s really not very far… like,
10 minutes on the bus). We started at a great dive bar and then wandered to a
more hoppin’ (as the kids say) area. We were immediately offered free
underpants by a British dude, to which I smoothly replied, “No thanks, I’m
already wearing some.” I know, I have a way with words.
Saturday night marked the start of a very fun, and widely
popular game: gay or straight. It’s just so darn hard to tell sometimes with
the upswing of dudes wearing skinny jeans and cardigans… which, unfortunately, is
right up my alley. Lauren was convinced this jacked short guy was hitting on
Caleb at the dive bar, but I’m pretty sure he was just a bit tipsy and was
trying to talk to us through Caleb. We also played this fun game at our last
stop: a dimly lit hipster bar. I probably don’t need to explain, but I will
just for shits and giggs. I spotted a very tall, very cute, very nicely dressed
guy posting up by the bar. Skinny jeans, TOMS, t-shirt, and zip up hoodie. I
was in love. But I’m not so sure he was. Either I’m hideously ugly, or he was
batting for the other team. I tried pretty hard to make eye contact, but nada. And
I thought I caught him checking out a dude. I'll just count my losses and move on.
Gay/straight confusion aside, said hipster bar was a pretty
sweet spot. And I could not have felt more at home. Although, I definitely
could have done without the five dollar rather small beers (even though they
were super delicious). But THE best part about this bar was that they somehow
hijacked my playlist. Each song that came on I got progressively more excited,
and I eventually had to make a trip to the little girls’ room so I wouldn’t
embarrass myself.
Here’s a sample:
Peace out, home slices.
Fruit Flies and Psychic Abilities
Yo dawgs,
Just a few rants before I forget about them. So something very interesting happened to me last night. I couldn't fall asleep right away due to the fact that I had a few things on my mind: first day of work on Tuesday, my exciting day in Salem, and a very long list of things to accomplish on Monday. That, plus a strange feeling that something I'd hung on my walls would fall in the middle of the night and scare the poop out of me. I'm not quite sure why I thought that would happen this night in particular. I mean, Lauren and I hung at least 10-15 pictures on the wall and not one fell down during the minor earthquake Boston experienced last week (granted, a few have fallen since then). I tend to get rather irrational right before going to sleep, so none of this really surprised me.
I slipped into my usual very unusual dreams. You know, weddings, saving the day, tripping, forgetting my locker combination in high school. I was dreaming that my friend from home was asking me whether or not I'd heard from a friend I'd made this summer. I told her no, not really. Then BAM. A loud noise woke me up at 5:30am. I flipped on my light, checked my walls, and two pictures had fallen down. Coincidence? Yeah, probably. Still very odd that what I fleetingly feared before falling asleep actually happened, though. Naturally, I then checked my phone to see if I'd missed any messages/calls/to check the time. I had a text message. From that person my friend had asked me about in my dream. Coincidence? Yeah, probably. But I accurately consciously and subconsciously "predicted" two things that happened.
I guess I kind of understand how some people might think they have some special "gift" and are psychic or something. Actually no, I still think those people are insane. I have deja vu all the time, and certain things from my dreams happen in real life and vice versa, but I'm not about to quit my day job and tell people whether or not they'll be rich some day.
Rant #2: We have a lot of fruit flies in our apartment. And it's starting to piss me off. They're not the really tiny, slow ones that you can easy clap-murder. They're slightly larger, much faster, and seem to know when you're trying to kill them. They can actually dodge your seemingly cheerful murder attempt. And let me tell you, they're everywhere. They're in my face when I'm cooking dinner. They're in the shower when I open the door to turn on the water. They're in my room when I'm about to go to sleep. They're orbiting my head when I'm watching TV on the couch. But when I furiously clap my hands to try to kill one, they're definitely not on my palm when I check to see if I was successful. Instead, my clapper light is turning on and off, and my neighbors must think we're really excited all the time. I'm definitely not looking forward to finding all of their tiny dead bodies when it gets below freezing around here.
The end.
Just a few rants before I forget about them. So something very interesting happened to me last night. I couldn't fall asleep right away due to the fact that I had a few things on my mind: first day of work on Tuesday, my exciting day in Salem, and a very long list of things to accomplish on Monday. That, plus a strange feeling that something I'd hung on my walls would fall in the middle of the night and scare the poop out of me. I'm not quite sure why I thought that would happen this night in particular. I mean, Lauren and I hung at least 10-15 pictures on the wall and not one fell down during the minor earthquake Boston experienced last week (granted, a few have fallen since then). I tend to get rather irrational right before going to sleep, so none of this really surprised me.
I slipped into my usual very unusual dreams. You know, weddings, saving the day, tripping, forgetting my locker combination in high school. I was dreaming that my friend from home was asking me whether or not I'd heard from a friend I'd made this summer. I told her no, not really. Then BAM. A loud noise woke me up at 5:30am. I flipped on my light, checked my walls, and two pictures had fallen down. Coincidence? Yeah, probably. Still very odd that what I fleetingly feared before falling asleep actually happened, though. Naturally, I then checked my phone to see if I'd missed any messages/calls/to check the time. I had a text message. From that person my friend had asked me about in my dream. Coincidence? Yeah, probably. But I accurately consciously and subconsciously "predicted" two things that happened.
I guess I kind of understand how some people might think they have some special "gift" and are psychic or something. Actually no, I still think those people are insane. I have deja vu all the time, and certain things from my dreams happen in real life and vice versa, but I'm not about to quit my day job and tell people whether or not they'll be rich some day.
Rant #2: We have a lot of fruit flies in our apartment. And it's starting to piss me off. They're not the really tiny, slow ones that you can easy clap-murder. They're slightly larger, much faster, and seem to know when you're trying to kill them. They can actually dodge your seemingly cheerful murder attempt. And let me tell you, they're everywhere. They're in my face when I'm cooking dinner. They're in the shower when I open the door to turn on the water. They're in my room when I'm about to go to sleep. They're orbiting my head when I'm watching TV on the couch. But when I furiously clap my hands to try to kill one, they're definitely not on my palm when I check to see if I was successful. Instead, my clapper light is turning on and off, and my neighbors must think we're really excited all the time. I'm definitely not looking forward to finding all of their tiny dead bodies when it gets below freezing around here.
The end.
Friday, October 19, 2012
The Thirsty Scholar Pub
Back on track now. We spied a bar called the Thirsty Scholar
just around the corner from our apartment (which I will refer to as the
“American Dream” from now on), and decided that would be a good place to start
our adventure. Rewinding for a sex: before we ventured out to the bar, Lauren and I
cooked our very first dinner together! Yay for girl things. We made pasta with
vegetables. I was very pleased, and Mark was impressed. Grown upssss in the
house!
Anyway, after about four beers while attempting to decorate
my room, we popped the champagne (no joke) and christened the apartment. It was
only natural to then draw a mustache, tape it to the TV, and drink any time it
matched up with someone’s face. I was definitely the most amused (no surprise
there).
After polishing off the champagne, a few whiskey cokes, and a shot of good ol’ Canadian Comfort (we drink only the best at the American Dream), it was time to socialize, or attempt to socialize, with the Bostonians. So I navigated us to the Thirsty Scholar. Which, in the process of investigating the hours online, we learned is the bar in which the opening scene of the Social Network is filmed. Bad. Ass.
After polishing off the champagne, a few whiskey cokes, and a shot of good ol’ Canadian Comfort (we drink only the best at the American Dream), it was time to socialize, or attempt to socialize, with the Bostonians. So I navigated us to the Thirsty Scholar. Which, in the process of investigating the hours online, we learned is the bar in which the opening scene of the Social Network is filmed. Bad. Ass.
We grabbed a high table and let the people-watching
and friend-hunting begin. As we looked around the bar, we realized we were
almost certainly the youngest people there. There seemed to be quite a few
tables occupied by people my parents’ age. Which is fine, because people that
age are actually really fun to hang out with. But I figured we should shoot for
the 20 to 30 age range. There also seemed to be quite a few tables of people on
dates/double dates. Leave them alone for sure.
I was hoping since we were a very approachable mixed-gender
group that perhaps friends would flock to us. Not quite how things went.
Another thing was I wasn’t sure how to dress like an adult. I didn’t want to
attract college students (there were none to be seen anyway), I didn’t want to
look boring, and I definitely didn’t want to go full-on slut. How the hell does
one dress like an approachable adult in need of friends? But not in a desperate
way. Still trying to figure that one out. Take two to come tonight.
To make a long walk short (ish), we spotted three super hipsters
walk in and sit at a neighboring table. Then we obviously spent about 30-45
minutes debating whether or not to approach them, what kind of strategy to use,
and conversation topics. We decided bringing an offering of alcohol would be
the best method. I mean, who denies someone bringing gifts in the form of booze?
So Mark made the move and brought our targets a bottle of Miller Lite. Yep, just one. See, our strategy was to introduce ourselves and teach them a new game to play. Which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the most mature/alluring thing in the world, but hey, we’re trying here. And they didn’t tell us to GTFO so I figured we did alright. We played the game where everyone puts one finger on the beverage to be drank, one person counts three, two, one and then you can choose to either leave your finger on, or take it off. After counting down to one, the person guesses how many digits will remain on the bottle. If they’re right, they take their finger out for the round and they’re safe. Repeat until one person becomes the loser and has to drink. Not a bad game, right? Also not a super well-known one, so we taught our hipster friends a cool, entertaining game whilst showing them how awesome we are/sending out friend vibes.
So Mark made the move and brought our targets a bottle of Miller Lite. Yep, just one. See, our strategy was to introduce ourselves and teach them a new game to play. Which, in hindsight, probably wasn’t the most mature/alluring thing in the world, but hey, we’re trying here. And they didn’t tell us to GTFO so I figured we did alright. We played the game where everyone puts one finger on the beverage to be drank, one person counts three, two, one and then you can choose to either leave your finger on, or take it off. After counting down to one, the person guesses how many digits will remain on the bottle. If they’re right, they take their finger out for the round and they’re safe. Repeat until one person becomes the loser and has to drink. Not a bad game, right? Also not a super well-known one, so we taught our hipster friends a cool, entertaining game whilst showing them how awesome we are/sending out friend vibes.
Unfortunately for us, we chose to approach them a bit too
close to closing time… so we only hung out with them for about 30 minutes. But
better than nothing, I suppose. Also let me address how intensely hipster these
individuals were: all three of them were wearing the typical hipster glasses.
They work at an architecture firm. Both guys were wearing some sort of striped
shirt+jacket combo. The girl was cute in a weird way. And they live in Boston.
‘Nuff said.
Overall they seemed like fun, decent individuals with a good
sense of humor (a must), so I wouldn’t mind running into them again. Not sure
they’d say that much, but who knows.
Our hipster friends left about 15 minutes prior to closing,
and we deemed the night a decent success. However, we didn’t get any numbers.
BUT they said they go to the Thirsty Scholar pretty often, so we should run
into them again. I feel like Paul Rudd in I Love You, Man. How the cheesecake
do you make friends in a new city? Do you go on friend dates? You definitely
don’t go on Craig’s List. I know that much.
That's all.
(Can you tell I'm watching The Devil Wears Prada?) (Side note: 00:40 Ohhhh god I love that movie.)
Greetings, Friends
Hey party people. So due to my recent move from the 'burbs of Chicago to the 'burbs of Boston, I thought it was only fitting to start a blog to share some of the shenanigans and interesting things that will inevitably occur. I'll do my best to keep things brief, snarky, and entertaining.
Keep in mind: I've never had a blog before, and this may turn into a massive failure. But it's worth a shot. Plus I've had virtually nothing to do for the past five days since I don't start work until Tuesday, and Lauren (roommate) already started work last week.
Here are the interactions I've had with people other than Lauren this week:
Place-- Public Garden downtown
Day-- Monday afternoon
Dialogue-- Bearded Man: Hey. Are you looking for a friend to smoke weed with?
Me: Uhh... no... I don't smoke. Sorry.
Bearded Man: Ok then, have a nice day!
Me: Thanks, have fun smoking weed.
Place-- Public Garden downtown
Day-- Wednesday morning
Dialogue-- Business Man: [whispered, on phone] do you mind if I sit here?
Me: No, go right ahead.
Place-- 1369 Coffee House
Day-- Wednesday afternoon
Dialogue-- Woman With Stroller: [looks at drawing I'm working on] That's really nice.
Me: Thank you.
As you can see, I'm TOTALLY racking up the friends. I mean, I really felt a connection with the Bearded Man who offered me weed. Our relationship really has substance, you know?
That's all for now. I'm going to post again in like five minutes, just so's you knows.
Keep in mind: I've never had a blog before, and this may turn into a massive failure. But it's worth a shot. Plus I've had virtually nothing to do for the past five days since I don't start work until Tuesday, and Lauren (roommate) already started work last week.
Here are the interactions I've had with people other than Lauren this week:
Place-- Public Garden downtown
Day-- Monday afternoon
Dialogue-- Bearded Man: Hey. Are you looking for a friend to smoke weed with?
Me: Uhh... no... I don't smoke. Sorry.
Bearded Man: Ok then, have a nice day!
Me: Thanks, have fun smoking weed.
Place-- Public Garden downtown
Day-- Wednesday morning
Dialogue-- Business Man: [whispered, on phone] do you mind if I sit here?
Me: No, go right ahead.
Place-- 1369 Coffee House
Day-- Wednesday afternoon
Dialogue-- Woman With Stroller: [looks at drawing I'm working on] That's really nice.
Me: Thank you.
As you can see, I'm TOTALLY racking up the friends. I mean, I really felt a connection with the Bearded Man who offered me weed. Our relationship really has substance, you know?
That's all for now. I'm going to post again in like five minutes, just so's you knows.
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