Saturday, May 29, 2010

Why don'tcha blog about it?

Just to warn you, this entry is not even going to try to be funny. I was just browsing Facebook, and I saw a group called "1,000,000+ people who disapprove of building a mosque at Ground Zero!" I was unaware that this was happening until I saw this group. In the group, people post every minute saying things like:
"I thought this is one nation under God not allah"


" If they're allowed to build a mosque at ground zero, it's like giving them a trophy for the attack on 9-11."


"An absolute disgrace,and those that voted for this have REALLY short term memory if they've already forgotten what these animals did to us. Let the spineless that voted this in go poll people who lost loved ones in this tragedy, they'll learn quickly how wrong this is"


"I have absolutely no patience with this profanity in the face of the police officers, firemen, and civilians who lost their lives or were injured on 9/11. When are people going to wise up and get rid of this politically correct crap being shoved down our throats. It equates to putting a statue of Hitler at the Holocaust Memorial! All of America should weep if this is permitted to happen. All of America should fight tooth and nail to keep it from happening."

I would love to respond to each of these with a retort that shows them how closed-minded they are being. However, a military man of 15 years tried responding to a few and received a stubborn "This is MY America" answer from all of them. Because you can't change someone's stupidity, I will write about it here, safe from all the CAPSLOCK CONVERTERS WHO THINK THEIR MESSAGE WILL MAKE MORE SENSE YELLED.

First of all, HITLER STATUE?! REALLY?!? Hitler invoked mass genocide of the Jews. Terrorists killed 2000 of our people, and we killed way more of theirs in war. And way more than 2000 of our troops have died in the war we started. There is no comparison to the Holocaust. If anything, the people who joined this group have views that align with Hitler's more than the "terrorists" did on 9/11. They clearly think that Christianity is the superior religion, which is just about the same type of baseless claim as "white is the superior race."

And how is it a disgrace to build a Mosque? By saying that building a place of worship near our country's Ground Zero is wrong, you are ultimately alienating that group. The terrorists' (I hate that word, but I'll use it for the sake of the argument) religious beliefs did not inspire them to hijack those planes, other people did. No religious belief is "bad" or "hateful" and to say that it is one nation under God "and not Allah" is contrary to freedom of religion and just plain retrogressive.

Wow, that racism course actually did make me more enlightened. Now I know how helpless a converter, an activist talking to a bunch of intolerant loonies (who, in their collective looniness, become the norm) feels.

Peace and love, eliminate the hate, let's get together and feel alright, etc.

And happy Memorial Day Weekend! Maybe these people who are so worried about that Mosque should worry more about our national holiday turning to an irreverent shit show (see last post). Just sayin.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

"You get STDs if you go DTS for MDW."

Today I took off from work and went to the beach with some friends.

Let me start by saying that nothing excites me more than Garden State Parkway South. Blasting "Just a Friend" and Brand New's old tunes and singing loudly with the windows open makes me beyond excited. I love when the car ride over, when I can peel my legs off the leather seat and stand up, ferris wheel in plain sight, breathing in fresh cold ocean air.

And then I walk up to the Seaside boardwalk and I remember why my generation hilariously sucks. It is the reason why other states hate us. You probably know Seaside from that trainwreck of a show Jersey Shore, actually. The boardwalk is surreal for the Seaside virgin. And also for the overall virgin, because you get eye-fucked a lot. Anyone. No one is below a drunk guido's standards. But I digress.

Everyone has tried to profit from the MTV show Jersey Shore. In the small boardwalk shops, there are $40 pairs of underwear that say things like "Pauly D's Girl" and "No back entry" and "Everyone loves a Jersey Girl" on the ass. I kid you not. Last year there were sparse amounts of Jersey Girl booty shorts in Seaside (I found some in Lavalette, a neighboring shore town, though!)

But this year the boardwalk stores were chock full of Jersey apparel. The Seaside this year is an exaggerated version of itself. As my friend Nicole, who sports a tattoo of NJ behind her ear, stated, "We loved Jersey before it was cool to love Jersey."

And because of the show, DTS for MDW will be crazy.

And what do these initials mean, you ask? North Jersey teenagers have a tradition for Memorial Day Weekend (MDW!). And it may not involve flags or parades or even veterans at all. Actually, it probably sometimes involves unintentionally pissing on people's lawns. Today (Wednesday) my friends pretty much planned our trip in the calm before the storm. Fortunately, most high school students can only take off a certain number of days, and the day before Memorial Day Weekend in my high school was our Senior Cut Day. They'll go down the shore on Thursday or Friday and rent out a house. College students with whom I (unfortunately?) went to high school start their Memorial Day Weekends as early as Tuesday.

Think of every Text from Last Night you've ever read. Imagine all the senders are between the ages of about 16 and 20, and that they have access to unlimited alcohol from heaven-knows-where. And they are living in houses together, galavanting at night and trying to enter everyone else's boyfriends into a round robin fuck fest. From what I understand, as an avid observer and social outcast, this is DTS for MDW. And Jersey Shore is just an exaggerated account of this that stayed in the tanning bed a little too long.

Monday, May 24, 2010

I be up in the gym just workin' on my fitness

So, two of my friends and I are doing a "Biggest Loser" contest.

We celebrated our "last supper" until the end of June with Chipotle burritos and something called The Farm from the icecream place Applegate Farm in Montclair. A Chipotle Burrito, as you probably know, is the size of a small football, filled with fat disguised as vegetables and rice. To describe The Farm, I'll use an SAT-style analogy: A garden is to an average sundae from Carvel as a Farm is to ___. Well, if you can't imagine this, it is a tub of ice cream with 16 scoops (4 flavors) and ours had gummy bears, cheesecake pieces, and cookie pieces.

Anyway, we weighed ourselves after we ate the burritos. My weight read a little higher than usual, probably because I had just ingested something that weighed more than my head.

And, of course, the prize for the competition is a Chipotle burrito. Full cycle, as we segue back into unhealthy eating habits.

I really want to win this, not because I want a burrito (although I'm psyched about it) but because it is a reason to get in shape and lose weight. If all of us change our lifestyles a bit, it will be easier to eat healthy.

I have been running semi-regularly all the while, but I have only lost 2 pounds. On Saturday my friend Matt took me on a trail called the Pipeline by my house, which had pretty trees and a place where you can jump off into some water. I didn't jump in because I didn't want to take off my shirt and reveal my beer belly, which is more like a disco-fries-every-week belly. Not so interesting or fun... more like the product of self-loathing and hopelessness. But I digress.

So after we went on the trail (which we didn't finish because I could not run 6 miles because I am not that awesome yet) we went to the track at our old high school. I did another 1/2 mile there, making my total about 2 1/2 miles says Matt, but I really have no clue. It felt good to run on dirt and clay, a nice alternative to the treadmill I'm used to (where my brother, whose webcam is across from it, once went on Chatroulette and show my huge running ass to an abundance of penises and creepy people). After we cooled down, as we were walking to the car, we had an impromptu HS class of 2009 reunion. I'm not going to get into it (BE THE BIGGER PERSON, RIGHT?). I am proud of my self control that I didn't sit down with a carton of ice cream (I waited till Sunday for that) and "take quizzes in Cosmo" after. However, I did eat my problems away in a more productive way: not having eaten since a Hot Pocket at 3, I did go to the diner at around 9 and order a huge panini. Carpe diem, though, folks.

Yesterday I went for a walk with my two friends with whom I am doing the Biggest Loser contest (that is the place of the inception of the idea.) We went to a beautiful dog-walking park with trees and a beautiful view, plus the view of some poor person's backyard, where they probably look out their window every day and find a college kid taking the Road Less Traveled and smoking a joint to celebrate.

Tomorrow, my friend Nicole and I are going to take a Zumba class (first one is free WOOOOOO.) My mom might go, too. Actually, I'm going to force her to go so there's someone in there who likes exercising less than I do.

Au revoir !

Monday, May 17, 2010

Single and Ready to Mingle.

Am I hopeless? Was my solitary relationship a fluke? I'm really starting to wonder.

I have a close friend with whom I spend a good amount of time every weekend. We sometimes brood about the single life, as single girls do, just making our single-ness more apparent. But anyway, we make the most of it and go out every weekend. But "go out" means go to Quickchek and the diner. I know, we suck. And three people have let us know this within the course of this week, by doing things like making fun of the fact that we get dressed up and spend our weekends in QuickChek. One person even wrote on my dumb ass Formspring contraption that I need to get "my own life" and meet new people. Now, I take this partially as a compliment, because these people see potential in us. But I'm in COLLEGE. I should be doing keg stands and kissing random boys and vomiting everywhere(well I do that ....I will post my vomit stories in the future. They are a surefire way to make people laugh/stay far away.)

So how do I, as an awkward girl staying home for college with the intention of saving money, with more skills with a pen than in actual human interaction, meet boys? I need flirting lessons. I need to be MADE. This is serious business. And seriously not fair.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

Like, OMG so in love.

Dear Nice Sales Clerk in Barnes and Noble,
Thank you so much for reviving my hope in men. When you smiled that James Franco-like smile at me, I knew everything would be okay. With my whole life. In the world. You almost did not let me use my gift card, but we can put our differences behind us. I hope you are not gay, because most of the good ones are.



Wednesday, May 12, 2010

I swear this life is, like, the sweetest thing I've ever known

So, long story short, I wrote a review for my internship on a guy named Josh Ricchio (aka Freak Owls) and he responded like this:

From: Freak Owls
To: Scott (my boss)
Subject: Re: reviewing your CD

Scott! Thanks to MT for the kind, flattering words. I'm honored that my music was able to connect so well. I really appreciate, and will totally use this review for all my press.


This is what I love. This is why I'm hot.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

This entry tries too hard.

Let me strike a match on all my wasted time:
As far as I'm concerned you're just another picture to burn

There is something oddly endearing about Taylor Swift.

Her lyrics are written for an average fourteen-year-old with average fourteen-year-old drama of hearing about her black-eyeliner-sporting friends doing sexual acts in the mall bathroom and oh my gosh I can't even get a date with the boy I like because he is a secret Myspace whore and talks to girls who are clearly fat and only look good in their pictures!? Her lyrics are pretty much Easy Bake AIM profiles. They belong right below "ii WANT a B0Y Wh0 CaLLsZ m3 BEaUtiFuL WhEn ii Am WEaRiNG SwEatTPaNtSz" and above a funny, indirect quote from a friend that borders on cyberbullying and looks like this:

JaNe D0E x3: she looks like pete wentz lolol

Okay, maybe I'm bitter about my early teenage years. Maybe I'm getting carried away. But I really do appreciate the music of Taylor Swift. I think her voice is really pretty, and her songs are catchy. Her lyrics say directly what she wants to say, and when she does use similes and metaphors they are comprehensible. Also, I saw her Signature guitar model from Taylor, and, to quote a friend, it is NICE.

Anyway, now I am 19 years old. I just got on my summer break less than 12 hours ago. I am sitting in my room freezing my legz off playing "Picture to Burn" on my guitar and singing loudly. HOWPATHETICISTHAT.

So if y'all are ever feeling romantically downtrodden, take solace in the music of Taylor Swift, because at any age (not just fifteen), if somebody tells you they love you, you want to believe them. End.

Monday, May 10, 2010


So I frequent this blog Girl Goes East. Wait, don't click that yet I'mnotdonewiththisentry. The author is hilarious and writes Throwback Fridays and Awkward Wednesdays. We have something in common...all of my Wednesdays are awkward, too. In fact, every day is awkward for me.

I have been single for almost a year. Sometimes I tell my mom that I am going to be celibate, in jest. IN JEST.

Last Friday, my mother called me over to help her with her computer ineptitude. In the search engine box was, "Christian college singles." She proceeded to search through all the guys that were pictured in our area.

There is nothing wrong with online dating. There is something wrong with picking out an online date for your daughter, however. When she wasn't looking for one.

Other awkward things:

Scrambling around figuring out what to do after spilling a cup of water on your laptop. (Hint: The answer is not to keep using it. Learned that the hard way.)

Missing the bus and run-walking after it through a construction zone, as the bus driver recognizes you and gives you a sympathetic stare.

People on the 197 bus route that terminates in Pompton Lakes. Period.

An ex's mom not taking you off her "mass text message" list and then calling you.

Having an old hippie professor hug you goodbye. Three times.

This hasn't happened to me, but it's awkward: When someone changes his or her relationship status on Facebook, and people comment on it "congratulations." You're pretty much saying "Dudeski you're finally going to get laid and I don't have to listen to you whine or ignore your phonecalls anymore."