Jaaasooon Derullloooooooo

This is just a side comment and totally unrelated: What the fuck is going on with his hat here? Is it on? Is it off? Nobody fucking knows, not even him.

So I was on the bus again yesterday—I know, I’m seriously becoming a peasant—and someone was listening to their music incredibly loudly and I didn’t want to lean over and be like, “Excuse me son, you could blow your eardrums out,” because obviously I didn’t fucking care about that. The truth is that it just reminded me of something new and annoying.

Why do singers feel the need to say their own name at the beginning of the song? Sometimes they even mix it up a little bit by giving themselves a shout out in the middle. Like at the beginning of the Jason Derulo song he goes, “Jasoooon Derullooo.” Then, since your short-term memory is so bad you forget things after thirty seconds, he fucking reminds you again a bit later. Like yeah, thanks Jason, I know you’re the one singing because on my ipod it has this special capability—call it magic, if you will—that allows me to see the “artist.”

Can you imagine if people just did that? Like at the beginning of every conversation if I went “Antooonia Clarrrrrk” and then again when you were talking, maybe even saying something important, just did it again. Or maybe just: “IT IS MEEEE.”

I know it's cool, I've already copied them

This story is not a joke: Last night my friend and I decided to go and see Get Him to the Greek. I was pretty excited. So we get there, we’re waiting in line, and my friend goes up to buy her ticket first. And the movie dude was like, “Can I see some ID please.” Luckily she had her ID, but I did not; and we got turned away. I wanted to be like: Excuuuuse me sir. I am 23! Yea, thats right, and the government says I can buy alcohol, and cigarettes and maybe just the tiniest bit of "marijuana" if I want. Not to mention the fact that I am totes old enough to watch people fuck and do drugs on screen because I know it's cool and I've already copied them.

Just as a friendly reminder: YOU HAVE TO BE 17 to get into Rated-R movies. It was like getting into bar when we were 17: Heey, it’s me. Yea, Loews Orpheum 7 is totally carding tonight. Sucks. Maybe we should hit up City Cinemas? They’re usually pretty easy. Or AMC? I don’t know my friends went to AMC last night and said the ticket guy was being pretty strict.

When I was much younger Rated-R movies were a point of serious pride. Like: "What'd you do last night?" "I watched a Rated-R movie." In fact, when I was in like 7^th grade my friend’s mom found her fake ID and she said, “It’s so I can get into Rated-R movies” APPARENTLY that was a good idea.

Now that I'm in retail, I'm all about the hug

You know when you run into someone from the street from college and you weren’t really friends with? And it’s like very, very awkward because you don’t know what to do. Do you do the hug? Do you just ignore them? If you make eye contact half way down the block then you are fucked because not only do you have to talk when you pass them but you also have to pretend to scroll through your non-existent emails/yawn/demonstrate a huge appreciation for the scenery until you meet up with them. You can’t be like, “Hello! YOU! Yes, you! I haven’t seen you in ages. Do you see me waving through this crowd of people? I wish they would hurry up so that we could hang as soon as possible.”

The worst-case scenario for this is if the other person is a girl because I promise you, they will want to fucking hug and this hug will be prefaced by “Oh my gooood hi!!!” And, now that I’m in retail, I’m all about the fucking hug. I’m like, “HIIIIIIII” and followed by “How are you?” in a very genuine peppy voice, and then I try to sell anything I can find. No ones ever says, “You know when we didn’t hang out in college? It may have been on purpose.”

Tell me everything

Now that it’s warm out I’ve had to start being super cautious as I walk in the city. You know why? Because fucks with clipboards are on every sidewalk. They always stagger themselves like a fucking obstacles so that right when you think you have graciously passed the first one, their friend Tom swoops in and is like, “Hi, do you care about the city’s water? OR ARE YOU JUST A FUCKING ASSHOLE.” Sorry Tom, I’m just a “fucking asshole” and I there is absolutely no way I can stop because I am incredibly, incredibly busy. Like the way you have a clipboard? I have a destination.

Once I did actually give in because they were like, “Do you have a minute for gay rights?” and I had just gotten off this liberal rampage at boarding school and I was like, “OMG DUUUUH I have a minute for gay rights!!!!!” So I stopped and was thinking to myself, “Wow, I am such an advocate,” but then they ask for your email, and your home address, and talk to you for fifteen minutes. Now I just say, “I’m already a fan” like gay rights is my new favorite band.

What I don’t understand is why they don’t get really attractive people to ask you these questions. If some really hot guy was standing on the corner and he was like “Do you have a minute for the environment?” and I would be like, “Tell me everything.”

Your son is a NONER

Recently I’ve been working in a children’s clothing store selling shit like it’s my job because it fucking is. I realized though that I can’t stop selling things now that I’ve started. When I leave work I still feel very "open" "friendly" and "helpful" for about twenty minutes. I was at a store the other day and my friend was looking for something and I was like, “How about these? They come in a lot of different colors but the khaki’s great because it goes with everything.” Like what the fuck? I feel like once you start pairing "the" with colors, you’re in trouble.

I realized that when people are looking to buy clothes for their kids they put a lot of faith in you, which is a shame because I know absolutely nothing so I have to trick them. I say things like, “you know, whatever’s comfortable.” The other day, this woman was buying a tie for her son and she was asked me which one I liked and I said, “the one with dogs” and she was like, “Yeah, well I hate dogs.”

Well I love dogs; I'm not a "cat person" because I'm not an "indoor kid." Oh, and by the way, your son just won a chess trophy; maybe you should get him to play some fucking sports. Yeah I said it. Your son is a NONER and he looks terrible in that tie anyway.

From now on you'll be riding a horse

Look how this dude has his hand on his hip like, "I'm on a fucking horse and I'll catch you." and the horse is like, "Yeah I'm a horse."

Recently I’ve seen a shocking number of one thing: cops on horses. Is it because of the high terror alert? Probably. After the Times Square non-bomb bomb they were like, “It’s code very deep red with a hint of orange and if we don’t get some horses in here—maybe even some ponies?—then we are fucked.”

(Speaking of ponies, that scene at the end of Robin Hood when all those weird boys who wear corn masks or whatever are riding ponies was not convincing. It looked neither safe nor effective against big or average horses).

I saw a cop on a horse riding down 6^th avenue amidst the traffic. She wasn’t even trotting. I wonder, in case of an emergency, if the horse gallops. Can you imagine that in a police report? “Lt. Antonia Clark fucking galloped down 6^th avenue and caught the criminal. Then she stood on the saddle and did an arabesque like the woman in The Ringling Brothers Circus but not The Big Apple Circus because they are smaller and poor.”

I was also wondering if being a rider was a promotion or not. Like is it a “Congratulations you did it” or, “From now on you’ll be riding a horse.”

Come on, come on! Feel it, feel it!

I fucking love this song, it reminds me of summer camp (not glee, btw, which covered it last night)

Does he realize how ridiculously similar we are?

I know it’s been a really long and you’ve probably been thinking, since you think about me frequently, “Oh, where has Antonia gone. Maybe she has a job and moved out.” NOPE. Don’t worry, whatever you fears were, you have absolutely nothing to be worried about.

It’s probably not that acceptable that I’m still living at home; like when people ask when I graduated I can no longer say “recently” I have to say, “a year ago.” In fact, and this is NOT a fucking joke, my doorman asked me if I was going to get a job. I mean that is a sign, like get the fuck out of this building and I’m like, “No! I’m staying here FOREVER.”

Oh my god, how depressing was that.

The other day I went to get coffee at the place by my house (Obviously I don’t need it since I have no reason to “get up” and “be active” and “WORK” ). So I get in line and I’m zoning out and then a banging dude steps up behind me and I notice immediately because I’m very perceptive like that. I use my periphs, I scan for guys, and I see them. So I order an ice coffee with skim milk and then HE ORDERS AN ICE COFFEE WITH SKIM MILK TOO. I know, fucking destiny. So I’m thinking does he realize how ridiculously similar we are? We’re like a match.com ad but I’m not wearing a cool scarf and laughing uncontrollably for no reason. Is this what’s passing through his head at 9 in the morning? And then the barista goes, “I think your mom was already in here and got you a coffee.”