Archive for March, 2010

Home Sweet Home. I feel I should mention I'm 5'8"....

For four years, I’ve been in the comfy cushion of college. Recently, I’ve come to the sad realization that this way of life won’t last forever.

Today, my future roommate’s and my application for an apartment was rejected; the only apartment in our price range that didn’t make us cringe. Which isn’t the worst thing in the world considering I haven’t secured a job yet, so I probably couldn’t afford the apartment anyway. Which isn’t the worst thing, because I could always work part-time, live at home and take graduate courses online. The only problem except for the fact that I no longer have a bedroom so this weekend I will sleeping on the living room couch. Which isn’t the worst thing, except it’s courderoy, which means every time I fall asleep on it I end up with lines imprinted across my face (awesome).

But hey, I still have 43 days left to figure it all out.


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From newport-discovery-guide.com

  The waitress’ expression said it all. It wasn’t annoyance or displeasure, but a subtle look of “how cute,” the way one looks at a little boy imitating his father reading the newspaper; a child who is attempting to do something entirely too adult.

We went to this particular restaurant  because I was curious as to what “old money” tasted like. A girl I know had described the tavern as being an “old-money” establishment, the kind of place people with more money than necessary went for a $60 per person lunch, before  adding in the another $30 for cocktails. So my roommate Eileen (note: Christmas elf) and I got into what we decided looked “business casual” (as the restaurant’s Website stated its dress code to be), got in the car, and tried to do our best imitation of adults.

Seated next to a fireplace that was easily as big as my dorm room freshman year of college, we sat up straight with our napkins in our laps and tried to figure out what the hell a caper was…. for 20 minutes. This is the moment I would typically turn to my parents to ask if I would like them, but without my parents there, I had to make the assumption they were edible (although I had no idea if they fell into the category of “animal” or “plant“) and that as a worst case scenario, I would push them aside. It turns out capers are salty little things that look sort of like peas (at least I think that’s what the capers were, there were some other unknown things in the plate, all of which were somewhat similar in taste and texture, but different in look).

I tried to use my best etiquette (forks get used outside to inside; you push the soup away from you in the bowl; knife in left hand, for in right…) Silly things that never matter when in the company of friends at Chili’s, but suddenly take notice when you are trying to pretend you belong someplace you do not.

Coming out of the restaurant, Eileen and I talked about how we are on the fringe of adulthood, where eating at a place like that still requires us to have a parent (a “true adult”) that somehow justifies our being there. I’ve mentioned it before, this limbo between not being a child anymore but not quite being an adult, but having all the responsibilities and expectations of both. As I fill out job applications, search for an apartment, and balance my checkbook, I still have the sense that I am not really quite adult enough to call myself an adult, but too old (and hopefully too mature) to consider myself a child.

As a side note, it turns out “old money” is delicious.

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From Kuoi.com


I have something I have to admit to you.  It’s something I am not proud of, but due to recent events I feel it is relevant and important to tell you: 

 I am a recovering Twitterholic

After one three-hour Twitter binge, I knew it was time to stop the Tweet. I must clarify, I’m a Twitter stalker, not a creator. I believe as of the last time I went to my Twitter, I was regularly following almost 100 Tweeters. I have only been on Twitter once since to look at Apolo Ohno’s page during the Olympics. Admittedly, it was a bad idea knowing my previous addiction, but I was able to back off and go on a Ohno YouTube binge instead. 

The reason this is relevant now is that Twitter is part of my course curriculum. Our professor offered us an out, but there is something about the allure of stal— Twitter that I cannot deny. If you are unfamiliar with Twitter, it is a social networking site where individuals encourage stalkers by posting information as to their whereabouts approximately every 2.3 minutes. There is even an application you can use that pin-points your exact location on a map using the GPS in your phone, so that stalkers find you even more easily. I believe this application was adapted from a similar method Paris Hilton uses to inform the paparazzi of her whereabouts. It’s a stalkers’ dream scape, and sadly, my personal vice. 

With that, I will return to my Twitter page, clear out the cobwebs, and look at about 6 months worth of posts that I missed out on. Good-bye GPA, hello random pictures of Pete Wentz’s lunch.

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From PostRejects.com

I fear we’re all getting a little dumber. Spend three minutes on textsfromlastnight.com and you’ll understand what I mean. Maybe it’s not actually that we’re becoming dumber, but we’re just more apt to share our idiocy with the world. It is very possible that people of the early 1800s got smashed and ended up naked in the back of their neighbors’ buggy covered in raspberry jam, but they weren’t posting Twitpics of it.

With that, here is a list of 5 dumb things that should be stopped:

Using symbols in place of letters.
Dear Ke$ha- what gives? A dollar sign is not an “s.” It will never, ever be an “s.” Please stop. It was fine when you were in middle school trying to fit in with the cool kids K8lyn and @shley and N!cole. But it’s 2010, you’re 23, and it’s not cute.

4. Twitpics of food.
If you have nothing interesting to say, get off Twitter. I don’t care how awesome your tofurkey burger with cranberry wasabi from McYuppies was, I don’t want to see it.

3. Starbucks.
Speaking of McYuppies…

2. Non-news stories being dressed up to look like news stories.
 Lindsay Lohan is suing E*Trade for $100 million dollars over an advertisement where a character named Lindsay is described as a “milkoholic.” Ridiculous? Yes. More ridiculous? MSNBC reported on it. So did CNN. So did the New York Times.

1. Movies that cost more than it would take to feed an entire third world nation.
Thanks James Cameron. Avatar  cost about $280 million according to Vanity Fair. It costs about 19 cents  a day to feed a child in an impoverished nation.  Avatar’s budget equates to 1,473,684,210.52 days worth of food.
I understand if you just think it’s way more fun to spell your name with a symbol or number that looks sort of like a letter, or if you think you’re dinner just looks so yummy you want to share it with the world, or if you love you’re tall skinny mocha latte with a double shot of espresso, or if you think Lindsay deserved an Oscar for Mean Girls, or if gone into a state of depression upon the realization that Pandora doesn’t exist, but please keep it to yourself. When the history books come out and the 2000s are remembered as the “Facebook Years,” we’ll have no one to blame but ourselves.

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From the Special Olympics. Copied from http://adelaide.seenthis.com.au

As a college student, it is sometimes easy to forget how offensive bad language can be. For as long as I remember, swearing was a part of my family’s everyday life. There are limitations to my swearing. For example, the F-bomb is fair game, but words that degrade a particular nationality or religion or group of people are not, and there is one word that gets me every time. I hate this word in a way that I cannot fully describe. Hearing it incites the same reaction as fingernails on a chalkboard; it ignites a fire behind my eyes. It’s the R-word. It makes me entire body cringe when I hear it and ensures the end of whatever conversation I was having with the sayer of the word.

I recently read an article on boston.com called What’s up with all the profanity? which discusses the rise of profanity in everyday language. The article specifically cited the casual use of the R-word. Mentioned in the article is a campaign called “Spread the Word to End the Word,” started  by r-word.org. At the site, people can pledge to eliminate “the derogatory use of the r-word from everyday speech and promote the acceptance and inclusion of people with intellectual disabilities.”

We’re given freedom of speech, but we should censor ourselves. For my part, I pledge to never use the R-word. And while I’m at it, I will attempt to cut back on the F-bombs and other choice words. There are better, more creative ways to offend people.

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MTV Spring Break '10 from http://www.paradiseparties.com

Where do college kids go for Spring Break?  Cancun? Tampa Bay? Or if they’re like me and their bank account is rockin’ the single digits, they’re back in their childhood bedroom in their parents’ house. Awesome. 

Thus far my Spring Break has consisted of borrowing a movie for free from the library, watching The Office On Demand, and working on class projects. Judging from the Facebook status news feed on my homepage, most people I know are in a similar boat. MTV’s Spring Break never showed the kids who go back to their part-time jobs at the mall or become chauffeur service for kid siblings. 

Tomorrow I’ll run errands, balance my checkbook, and wonder what all those kids rocking out in the Florida sunshine are up to.

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