Heartbreaks and Competitions (AKA the last Ex-Related Post EVER)

This whole year I have felt an imaginary force, a competition between my ex and me to see who can get the most accomplished and have the biggest transformation. Hint: the answer needed to me "me." Now that I think about it, that was stupid. Especially because no matter how many status updates I posted about how great I was (I didn't do that though because I'm not fifteen anymore) he WOULDN'T CARE. That's why we were BROKEN UP. But it was a good driving force to get off my ass and do things. "Said Ex would be really impressed by this, if we were still together," I said to myself, but it just meant "Stop being such a waste of life and looking at other people on Facebook in whoreish clothes having fun at their party colleges." The only one of my accomplishments I posted, he responded to, but that was an April Fools joke saying I got accepted into Yale.

So this post is just for fun; I have no feelings left for my ex, and I wish him and his new girlfriend well. So without further ado:

If break-ups were award shows, like the Emmys or the Grammys broadcasting the past year with designer dresses and tepid celebrity hosts, here is how the awards would probably play out, although I only have a vague idea of what he could possibly be doing:


Most Tears Shed: Me
Most Weight Lost After Breakup: Me
Most Weight Lost, Overall: Him
Most Disco-Fries Used to Cure Loneliness : Me
Quickest to Find Someone New: Him
Most attempts by ex's family/friends to be contacted: Me
Most times trying to drink one's problems away that just ended catastrophically: Me (actually I don't really know about this statistic)
Most school-related priorities: Him, by a hair.
Better Grades: Me (I only know these two because we had a conversation once about keeping grades up while pledging)

And the clincher that makes this whole post somewhat "okay" to write (I don't need counseling, really, I'm fine):
Better Off Without the Other: Me!!!!!~*~**~*~~*

My Throwup Stories.

So, I am known within my group of friends for my bad gag reflex. No, not in that way, you pervs. I just throw up at really weird times for really weird reasons. Most of the time it's because I'm surprised. My friends find these to be very funny, which is something that alleviates the pain and humiliation of actually, um, throwing up. They joke that if it's a surprise when I get engaged I'll throw up on the dude.

So, in chronological order, here are the stories my friends will be telling their grandchildren about me:

1. It was the summer before my junior year of high school, and I was on a car ride to South Carolina for vacation with my friend Ju and her mother and father. I slept the whole ride down. It was about 2 AM, and we stopped at a gas station in Virginia. Ju's mom told me to get a snack out of the cooler. I pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Took a bite. Felt something crunchy and sweet. Thought it was mold or something. Felt sick.

Ran out of the car, to the trashcan.

BLEHHHHHHHHHH.

"Was that crunchy peanut butter?" I inquired.

"Yes," replied Ju's parents.

And so the exaggerated anecdote goes:

"Do you not like crunchy peanut butter?" they asked.

"No, I was just surprised," I replied.

2. Setting: icecream place, after the school Band dinner of my junior year. I had just found out I was woodwind captain (woop woop!). It was one of the last weeks of school, and a few of my friends and I had gone out for ice cream after dinner. I was stuffed.

So there was a suave guy there from concert band, someone we all knew but none of us knew very well. He sashayed he'd his way into our friends group by going to prom with one of our friends.

So here I am with my huge cone of chocolate peanut butter ice cream, probably having just gotten over a cold that any lactose products would irritate. Did I mention I'm stuffed?

Suave Guy: So did you go to prom?
Me: No, I'm only a junior.
Suave Guy: Oh wow, if I'd had known you weren't going, I would have asked you.

At that moment, I started hacking up my lungs, as the cliche goes. I supposed I was surprised. But more like way too full to ingest ice cream.

Me: Excuse me.

I darted to the garbage can (we were outside thankfully.) BLEHHHH.

2a. Coldstone. I'm not sure when this was. Right after a trip to Chipotle. Friend mentions a guy who showed interest in me. Because I only like guys who are apathetic at best and I was absolutely full and feeling sick, you guessed it. BLEHHHHH.

3. The setting is my friend Nicole's graduation party, the summer before my senior year. I was in the deep end of the pool. My friend Becca (who is, like, the nicest smartest most non-malicious person ever) came up behind me by surprise and dunked me. Water in my lungs. Cough cough cough cough. Puke. Becca proclaims "That's disgusting." and swims away. Vomit disappears. Nicole's brother's fraternity jumps in soon after.

4. Spring of senior year of high school. Now ex-boyfriend and I decided we'd make baked ziti. Or he'd make it and I'd stand around and try to help him and EAT WHOLE CLOVES OF GARLIC WHILE I WAS WAITING?!? EAT FOUR OF THEM?!? Each one burned so much on the way down my throat, but I figured it was good for me. Until it wiped out my insides. BLEH BLEH BLEH BLEH BLEH BLEH BLEH BLEH.

5. Summer after senior year, shore house in Sleazeside. White Castle, and other shore-related things.

Puked through my nose. BLEHHHHHHHH.

Male Friend: I'm going to hold your hair back like a good girlfriend!
Other Male Friend: [standing in the doorway] WOW I've never seen that happen before!

6. Edward 40-hands and naked Danny DeVito in It's Always Sunny. Need I say more?

The fact that I threw up in most of these instances is merely coincidental. But the stories are interesting. I have plenty more less-funny puke stories. Our project for the summer is to make Youtube movies of my throw up stories.

To Pierce, or Not to Pierce

So, I am considering getting my nose pierced. I have decided to list the pros and cons:

Pros:
It looks cute.
It isn't permanent.
It looks cute.
It's a small change in my life without having to spend thousands in tuition at a new school.
I'll feel more grown up.
It looks cute.

Cons:
I'll have to take it out in a few years for job interviews.
Not everyone finds it attractive.
People may get the wrong idea about me because I have a piercing.

I'm still a little torn. I feel like it will be the teenage rebellion stage that I missed. But I'm still not sure. Thoughts?

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"

or

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

or

"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"

or

"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.

"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.

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 !

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.