Thursday, September 21, 2006

$160K later...

This spring, my little sister joined the wonderful world of the Elite College Graduate. And what a world it is:

I got home yesterday and got a call from a Pomona sophomore asking me to donate forty-seven dollars. I haven't yet contacted the NSA for an official government transcript of the conversation, but here it is as best as I can recall:

Po So: Hi, this is [Pomona Sophomore] calling to thank you for your support this spring and to ask if you'd be willing to donate 47 dollars this year.
Me: Um. I just graduated and don't really have any money, so, uuuuhhhh, maybe next year?
Po So: Um okay. Well could you tell me how it's going? How's life as a college graduate?
Me: I'm living at home with my parents and working a stupid job.
Po So: Can I ask what you're doing?
Me: ....I put shirt racks together.
Po So: Oh.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

i'm sorry

There is no argument against gastric bypass surgery more compeling than Star Jones. (Besides, like, people dying from it and stuff.) I plan to commence drinking as soon as I leave the office to forget I ever saw this. And now you have to, too. "Fugly" doesn't even begin...

what ever happened to baby tara?

In case anyone is concerned about the state of Tara Reid's career these days, I am pleased to report, via my internship office building's elevator TV-thingy, that she is starring in the World's First Made For Internet Movie. Get your credit card ready! The teen horror film, "Incubus," will soon be available on AOL for $7.99.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

three-hole punching makes me bitchy

Even though I only managed to finish about 1/8th of the crossword puzzle (damn you, Will Shortz!) I quite enjoyed the New York Times Magazine this weekend.

Who knew that Brooklyn is becoming gentrified and expensive, and that there are still crrrrazy artist folk on the Lower East Side?

I'm kicking myself for never having read Susan Sontag before.

The writer must be four people:

1) the nut, the obsédé

2) the moron

3) the stylist

4) the critic

1) supplies the material

2) lets it come out

3) is taste

4) is intelligence

a great writer has all 4 — but you can still be a good writer with only 1) and 2); they’re most important.

It's quite a shame she kept this journal before the blog era. Then maybe she'd have been able to get a book deal!

Where's Waldo?
Given the whole downtown theme, I feared from the getgo that at least one of the Misshapes kids would make an appearance. For the sake of the Times I prayed I was mistaken. After all, it seemed like only days ago that we'd had to stomach the trend piece on rose wine and its accompanying photos of the alleged tastemakers. When the Lower East Side profile showed not a trace of Princess Coldstare, I was nearly giddy. But when I came to the article on the cultural phenomenon of clothing store as gathering place, fear took over. As I turned each page, my heartrate slowed a couple of bpm's as the glossy remained Leotard Fantastik free. And then, there in the very last picture, just when I'd thought the coast was clear...


Tuesday, September 05, 2006

i'm confused

*Why, why why why why WHY does this exist?

*Why did the security people at Central Wisconsin Airport confiscate my bottle of water, mascara, deodorant, Kiehl's lip balm, and complimentary toothpaste from the dentist when I passed right through security at LaGuardia with all of those items (sans toothpaste)? I love that the toughest airport security I've ever encountered is in the most unlikely-to-be-terrorized place I have ever been to. And even more perplexing--are we really supposed to believe that taking away people's NyQuil GelCaps is going to prevent a terrorist attack via liquids? They didn't take away my ballpoint pens. Those have liquid. Morons.

*Why are drinks at the Dollar Bar $1.75? The establishment was true to its name when I was home last year. Those money-hungry capitalist pigs!

*When did I become one of those people that thinks everything their pet does is the most brilliant, endearing thing that ever happened in the history of the universe? But seriously, check out this awesome video my dad took of my dogs! Every night before he goes to bed he lets them out so they don't poop on the carpet in the morning, but Babe's getting up there in years, you see, so she goes to bed (on a beanbag in my sister's room) early. So Dad tells my other dog, Daisy, to "go get Babe," and then Daisy goes into my sister's room, barks and growls, and then leaves, and Babe, without fail, emerges sleepily shortly thereafter and makes her way to the kitchen for a sip of water before joining Daisy to do their biznass. I've watched this video, and the live act, approximately 50,000 times.

Saturday, September 02, 2006

animals of the fair

Almost enough to make me go back to vegetarianism.

Crazyass rabbits!

Sometimes I wish...

that I'd been less shy in high school...

so I could've had myself a nice farm boy.

Llama staring contest.

the fair

I hadn't been to the Central Wisconsin State Fair in at least eight years. It is exactly the same as I remember it, only everything seems a lot smaller. In lieu of human accompaniment, I took my camera. With writing I'm all about concision, but I have an extremely hard time editing a group of photographs. These are my favorite six. And I'll probably post the rest later, because I have no self-control.

Here we have your typical group of fair-goers. Note to self: have Bud Light pitcher attached to belt loop at all times, in case of emergency.

Everything seemed so much fancier when I was 10.

Sometimes I miss the element of surprise inherent in shooting photos on film. But there are still surprises to be had with the digital medium, especially when you can't take your eyes off a bulging, lactating udder.

Reba, Clifford, and Mercedes.

The Marshfield News Herald--at least 78 years of grievous typos. (Read the first sentence.)

Always and forever, my favorite building at the Fairgrounds. No offense, World's Largest Round Barn.

Friday, September 01, 2006

danse macabre

Since it brought such joy to Ellen's workday this afternoon (and since I've had half a bottle of "Mystery Red" that my parents got from the local food co-op,) I thought I'd share with all of you--friends, blogfriends, stalkers, and potential future employers--a photographic history of my dance career (and bangs).

2nd Grade

My first dance recital at Tricia's School of Dance. I started with ballet, and I can recall neither the theme of this recital nor the song to which I plie-ed. I remember my song was Irish, though, and I have a vague memory of singing "We Are the World" with all the students in the grande finale.

3rd Grade

The theme was "Broadway," and I added onto my repertoire with jazz. My class danced to "You're Never Fully Dressed Without a Smile" from Annie. Clearly, I've carried this philosophy with me throughout life. (I don't know what's up with those nylon stockings, but I was obsessed with the little white foldover ruffle socks.)

Sadly, no photographic evidence exists of my ballet performance to Barbara Streisand's "People" from Funny Girl. My dad made fun of me for having to dance to that song, and I remember seething with envy towards the older modern dance kids who got "Age of Aquarius".

4th Grade

"Under the Sea" from The Little Mermaid! Score! The theme was "Disney," and I thought this outfit was bangin'. Teal was totally my favorite color.

I replaced ballet with tap after that Streisand debacle. Our song was "Supercalifragilous" from Mary Poppins. I thought that was pretty darn cool. What wasn't cool were our costumes, specifically the white leotard part. I needed a little extra coverage in the chest region, but I had yet to wear a bra. My dance teacher had to show me how to make one out of nylon stockings. Oh, the shame.

5th Grade

In 5th grade I was down to just tap and fully covered in a yellow rain slicker. My class time-stepped to BJ Thomas's "Raindrops Keep Fallin' On My Head," and I'm pretty sure the recital's theme was "The Newspaper." I was somewhat jealous of the girls who got "Nine To Five" by Dolly Parton (classified ads, get it??) and wore French maid porno costumes, but I had a red, yellow, blue, and green umbrella to twirl. And I got to keep it! Though I still dry heave every time I hear that godforsaken song.

6th Grade

The theme was "Christmas", I tap danced to "Sleigh Ride", I wore a candy-striped tutu, and you can shut the fuck up. By the ripe old age of 11, I had grown too self-concious to continue my hobby. It wasn't so much that I really, really sucked at dancing (I really, really did), but that I was the only one in my school who took dance lessons, and therefore it was patently uncool. By some cruel twist of fate, my mom decided that this picture belonged on the wall in the entryway of our house and would not remove it despite years and years of pleading. It was only when I'd gotten over my adolescent suicidal tendencies that she moved it into the master bedroom. Thanks, Mom.

So there you have it. Anyway.