The Printed Blog

I'm now part of The Printed Blog network. The Printed Blog is a weekly print subscription magazine composed of blog posts and online content. It's pretty sweet.

If you like my post(s) click the vote link that's now up. The more votes a blog gets the more quickly an editor will review it.

If you don't like my posts then fuck off and vote anyway. There's no need to be judgemental--it's a blog. Relax.

Is that the one where she kills herself in the end?

My family has a Netflix subscription and my mother picks out the movies. This means we watch a lot of English stuff--anglophilia pervades. Recently, Netflix redid their website so you can no longer see what your friends are watching (this has been moved to facebook). My mother was not pleased and she called customer service. It was one of the best conversations I've ever heard. She proceeded to tell the woman on the other line that she was "not her friend" and "couldn't tell her what to watch."

We usually watch the movies at different times, so frequently my father has seen something before I have but he'll watch it again when I do. He is big into narrative warnings. Like when something really bad or scary is about to happen he'll say, "Here we go." Thanks dad. It's like when I started reading a book for my senior project in high school and he said, "Oh is that the one where she kills herself in the end?" Yes, thank you.

My problem with movies, in general, is that I'm really bad at dealing with the characters stupid decisions. Like in the original Narnia movies I was so fucking annoyed when they went back into the wardrobe. All I could think was "DO NOT GO." You fucking know what is going to happen; you're about to enter a super cracked out christian allegory, this will not be a surprise, and then you are going to spend the rest of the movie trying to leave. Don't do it.

That said, I've never been one to yell at the TV. You know why? Because I fucking know they can't hear me. It's true. I'll watch something and I'll want to reach out, but I have great people skills and natural intuition. I see whats going to happen but I keep quiet.

Sorry, I just washed my hands

In a day and age where everyone is trying to save the planet, I found it really refreshing to find some folders by people who were like "Nope, we're not" because I'm not either. They're just normal file folders but they have "Dead Trees" printed on the front. I'm not saying I go around yelling "Fuck trees. I hate trees," but I also don't feel like I'm in Ferngully. I have no qualms drinking bottled water and when I bought cookie ingredients yesterday I double bagged them because it was easier FOR ME.

Like when I go to a public restroom and I wash my hands, you know what? I am going to use as many paper towels as I need to make my hands completely, absolutely dry because I hate damp hands. I'll go and try to be conservative but then pick up my book and there's this fucking slightly handprint on my page, and I don't like that. Or when you meet someone and you shake their hand and it's fucking wet and they say, "Sorry, I just washed my hands."

Did you dunk your hands in a bucket of water and come directly to me? I don't care that I'm playing waterfalls here, I need to shake hands immediately. I was going to dry them but someone collected all of the paper towels and burned them. There was nothing I could do. I feel like I'm missing something. Because when you shake my hand and your hand is wet, I think it's pee. I don't care if its immature: that's what the deal is. The worst is if there is a hand sensor paper dispenser because it only releases one sheet at a time and this is never enough to dry your hands properly; so you end up waving at this machine like you have palsy. Or, and maybe this is worse, the hand dryer which doesn't actually do anything unless you commit a good five minutes.

Usually these problems only occur in public restrooms, but here's something else I don't get: pretty hand towels. Do you know what I'm talking about? The really thin linen pretty ones. What is the point? Like if you go to someone's house for dinner and you use the bathroom before leaving, you have to use these hand towels to not dry your hands afterwards. You'll shake their hand good bye and they give you this look like, "Gross" and I'm like "This was your decision."

On the count of three we'll both hang up

The last time I was really on a conference call was in 7th grade when it was like, "Ok, don't talk and we'll call up Sue and ask her what she thinks about you." and we'd ask her and she'd say something like, "She's fine" but then when it came to hanging out together at lunch I wasn't having any of it: Sue was "soo double-sided."


Obviously you can imagine my initial excitement when my boss was like, "We're doing a conference call with the website company." I was like fuck yeah we are--who's talking: you or me? Anyway so it turns out these big group meeting conference calls are the strangest thing ever. It's like have a phone interview and the person's talking and you're nodding, or you're talking and gesturing but no one can see what the fuck is going on so you want to be like, "I'm nodding. You'll never know for sure so you'll have to trust me on this one. I hear you and I agree, so I'm moving my head up and down."

It's impossible to talk properly on these calls because you have no way to read any sort of social cues. Everything is prefaced with a "I'm just going to jump in here" like the whole call is a fucking swimming pool. The best part is the good-bye. Do you say good-bye? Do you say thank you? It's like a game of "No I love you more" which progresses into a "You hang up first!" Can you imagine?

-Bye Web Publishing!"
-Bye I love you!"
-No I love YOU
-I love you more!
-No I love you more!
-You hang up first
-No you!
-Ok, on the count of three we'll both hang up
-Ok
-I love you!

Hanging out in Edinburgh, being cool, being euro

Hurray Friday! These songs are from my sister who is super hip and "hanging out with her friends in edinburgh right now" being cool, being euro,  hanging with the scandos before classes start. She is much cooler than I am, which probably isn't hard

There's a lot of instrumental in the beginning of this one, but it's still pretty fucking good and you should give it a chance. 

NOT !

Do you remember the "Not!" joke? You'd be like, "You are so cool....NOT!" And it was the funniest most hysterical thing you'd ever heard: "Want to come to my birthday party?....NOT" It was pretty harsh.

It's recently occurred to me that the "Not" bit is really just a sarcasm-identify when you're too young to have a sense of sarcasm. The last time I ever babysat (a couple of months ago) the kid was not being fun or cool and refused to do her homework. So I told her, as a joke OBVIOUSLY, that if she didn't sit down and start, I would "lock her in the bathroom." Apparently this is not funny without the "Not!" Whatever.

I actually started saying "Not!" again, with my one-joke friend. You know those people that you had a class with, or worked with, or met at a party once, and you come up with this one inside joke. Then, every time you see them afterwards, its like, "Hey!! NOT!!" The one joke is never ever funny, and like you guys probably aren't really friends but you will literally pretend to be friends forever.

The "not" is really just for people who are absolutely retarded and have no sense of humor. Like if you read the title of my blog and thought, "Well that's nice" but if it was named "Living with my parents is cool....NOT!" you'd get it.

I heard the tone of their voice and I knew they were hurt

In today's WSJ there is an article titled, "How to Keep Your Cool in Angry Times." The article is based on research (from 2007, very up-to-date) which details the interaction between customers and customer services representatives. You know when you call and they say this call is "being monitored for quality-assurance" and then someone who doesn't speak English jumps on from across the world? Apparently people were listening.

Anyway, so they have a cool graph displaying "What customers wanted and got in response to their complaints." Here's my favourite part: 15% of people that called wanted revenge. Here's my other favourite part: 1% of people got it.

I'm sorry, what? Let's say a hundred people called, ok this means that 15 people--like a whole liberal arts english classroom, or like 15 people who won't be employed in the future--called to "get back" at the company. What exactly did they do? Fuck this company. I was so fucking angry I called them. I said "I hate you and your voice is dumb" and they were like, "Have a nice day" but I heard the tone of their voice and I knew they were hurt.

So then, after this phone call, did they go immediately go to a poll like, "yeah, I did it! I showed them!" And who decides if they actually got revenge or not? Does the customer services person have to say, "Excuse me that really hurt my feelings?" To which they get, "Good. I did it on purpose. I was seeking revenge. You know in Kill Bill when Uma's out to get even? Like that, but this is for my cheetos which were neither crunchy nor orange."

You are NOT supposed to keep talking

The "how are you?" is a pretty standard part of the meet-and-greet-and-pass. Like if you pass someone on the street who you know but both of you don't care it's: "Hi! How are you?" And you keep moving. You are NOT supposed to keep talking. Sometimes you get totally fucked by being accidentally caring and compassionate (like I clearly am all the time).

Like when people actually answer the question with something really depressing and situationally inappropriate. When I was at my high school reunion I ran into someone who WAS NOT my friend and was obviously like "Hi! How are you?" and she said "Not great. I broke up with my boyfriend and I'm really depressed." *

This also happens in more challenging situations like when you get your haircut and you have to figure out: Do I talk? What are we going to talk about? How long does the conversation go on? Should I stop when you use the hair dryer? Maybe? No. No, I should keep talking even though it's very loud and I'm not saying anything interesting. Why do people always feel the need to start up a conversation? Then I usually spend the rest of the haircut feeling like I need to say something interesting or ask questions. The worst is that my haircutter is fucking hot and looks really awesome so like I feel I have to say something awesome. I was doing a pretty good job holding my own until he noticed the book I brought and was like, "Oh, what are you reading?" and I said, "Ooooh, it's about American colonials in London" and he said, "Cool."

Like even when I'm at the dentist, my dentist is like, "How's life going? Have you started work yet?" I'm sorry I can't focus because I'm looking up into your nostrils and you're breathing on me, not to mention the fact that--oh yes--your fucking fingers are in my mouth so the chance of me responding to your questions are, I don't know, zero.

*I don't care. At all.

It's not like a loud laugh, it's like a knowing chuckle

Have you ever been sitting in a public place--like a coffee shop, somewhere where it's fairly quiet--and someone laughs out loud? I don't mean with their group of friends, I mean just alone while they're reading. I have no problem laughing by myself but I can't stand when people self-consciously laugh out loud like, "Oh look I'm having fun AND I have a sense of humor HAHAHA).

A particularly obnoxious example of this is if you're on the subway and someone's reading a book---NO: The New Yorker--and they give this little laugh so that you know they are fucking smart and they "get" the joke. The thing is that most things don't necessarily even warrant this vocal outreach. Or they'll be reading something that obviously isn't universally hysterical, like, I don't know, The Economist, but they give a little "Ha" because they are fucking on the "in" and they know a funny markets joke when they see one.

Sometimes I'll be sitting with a group of friends and we're all doing our own thing (pretending to work) and then someone will check their email and laugh out loud. It's not like a loud laugh, it's like a knowing chuckle.

Cool friend : Haha
Me the loser: What's so funny?
(pause)
MtL: Cool friend, WHAT'S SO FUNNY
(CF leans into computer screen a bit, leans back in chair still looking SUPER engaged, looks over)
CF: Sorry what?
MtL: What's so funny
CF: Oh, it's nothing. Ha

Sometimes they'll even add in a "Oh, it's nothing. This really hot guy (insert name) is just so ridiculous." Ooooh, okay, well then I obviously wouldn't get it.

Enough of this charade.

An angry rabbit.

Recently I was talking with someone about running and they shared this interesting tidbit with me: Apparently, there is a tribe of Native Americans who, instead of hunting down animals with weapons, run after them until the weakest animal, exhausted, collapses.

OK. Let me just repeat this: They run after four-legged animals until one animal is like, "fuck it, this is ridiculous" and just dies because they have literally had enough of this running bullshit.

Is this effective? Like if you had to set up two tribes against one another and bet who would win, would you pick the one with arrows or the ones that were like: we have great stamina.

This running just seems like the MOST ineffective way to hunt in the entire wold. In the little bit of research I did before posting this, everyone was super impressed by their running skills. I'm sorry to be such a downer, but um, they don't actually need to run this much. WHAT ABOUT THEIR HUNTING SKILLS? I am not impressed. It's not it's even more humane. Not only do they kill the rabbit but they're super mean and insulting first. If I were a rabbit I just wouldn't run. I would be like, "No, you run. Enough of this charade."

Get Up!

Aaah had to do another one.



Have a good weekend.

I knew it was cool like soo early on

Yay Friday! I've given you two songs here, as you might conclude from your ability to "see." 

Bc I'm so alt I've included this too. I was obsessed with the Foals when I was abroad and now they've come out with another excellent album. (I pointed out the abroad bit so you know I knew it was cool like sooo early on). It's super fucking good, give it a minute or so to begin properly:

 

It's absolutely getting a word-friend

Whenever people call a restaurant to order out they usually end up saying a word for any confusing letter You say like, "Apt 15 C-for cat", so no one fucks that up.

Yesterday I had to make a lot of phone calls to foreign embassies and, since I'm an ignorant American and only speak one language, I had to ask them to spell everything out. People choose the fucking craziest shit, and, also, once they get in the habit of giving a word for every letter it doesn't stop. Like even if the letter is really obvious; it's absolutely getting a word-friend. This is what one end of the conversation would sound like:

"Here's our email:

A--like "actor" (We all know what A sounds like, but "actor" is okay so we'll let it go)

D--like "dead" (Yup, I actually heard this one and there are a lot of other options for "d" like, um, "dog," for example.)

O--(pause: do I keep going with the spelling thing? I've already started but what the fuck starts with O?): ox

B--like "boisterous" (People always do this: they choose words that are fucking longer than the actual word. WHY?)

You get the idea. This one woman I called had all of her words down. She gave me the longest email ever but had clearly memorized everything. Her email had a whole posse of pals. She knew what was coming and she was fucking ready.

I fucking love sweatpants

Piperlime's new and inexplicably nasty ad.

Dear Piperlime,

I saw your ad the other day. My friends and I were in a taxi and then it zoomed by on top of another taxi, yeah, the one that says, "Say NO to sweatpants." Hey, hi, sorry, Piperlime, but WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? Oh, and what does your name even mean? Because, you know what, I have no idea. And if you thought you could trick me by appearing on Project Runway, guess what: you can't. Nope, no fucking way; when Tim Gunn was like, "Choose carefully from the Piperlime wall," I thought, "What the fuck is Piperlime?" and so did everyone else.

And, by the way, since we're on the subject, I fucking love sweatpants. Ya, I do. Sometimes I just sit in my sweatpants all day long because I'm a blogger, and it's a step up from my nightgown. When I'm feeling really good, I wear my nice sweatpants, the ones with the drawstring and flair. I have to differentiate between these two types because it's important to dress for the right occasion.

Speaking of finding the right clothes, Piperlime, I actually went online to see what the deal was--turns out you're part of Gap and Old Navy SO DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO WEAR.

Wearing my sweats right now,

Antonia

What if we like ordered a bunch of stuff and shared it?

How was your long weekend? Was it "good" "relaxing" "nice to have a break" ? You might be wondering how I know, and it's because mine was also "good" and "relaxing." It's the same as the summer conversation.

Now that we got that out of the way: How do you feel about sharing food at a restaurant? I'll tell you how I feel: not great. You'll go to a restaurant with a big group of friends that is already way too fucking big because like Jenny had to bring her boyfriend and her boyfriend had to bring his friends so he wasn't alone and they all suck but they're there so oh well, AND THEN someone goes, "What if we like ordered a bunch of stuff and all shared it?"

No. I don't want to share. It's not because I have sharing issues it's because chances are that everyone is going to like this one dish that I probably wanted to order anyway because I have excellent taste. Also, everyone gets super kind and compassionate about what to eat: "Do you want the last one? No you take it! Totally! I already tried part of it so I'm fine! Ya GO FOR IT!" Here's what happens: there is always one tiny piece of dessert left. It's always dessert and it's probably like the most fucking delicious cake you've ever had, but if you finish it off then you're an asshole.

The thing is once this whole scenario starts up you are trapped because no one is going to be like, "No, I don't want to share. I want my very own. I know what I want and I don't want your communist theories fucking with that. I'd like to eat from my own plate and not some sort of segregated trough."

Freedom

Jonathon Franzen's new book Freedom is so unbelievably good you must read it immediately. It's just as good, if not better, than The Corrections, and has all the humor, insight, and depth of his essays.

If you don't believe me because I'm just a fucking blog, it was excerpted in The New Yorker three months ago and you can read that here:

Good Neighbors: The New Yorker

And if you have trust issues:

Click here

Groove Armada

Sorry I've just got one for you. Have an excellent weekend and be mindful of Earl: the worst hurricane name ever. I was listening to the radio this morning and they were talking about the "big impending storm" because they were clearly too embarrassed to say Earl, which was probably a good call.

Whenever I pass him I use my "hey" move.

My building has enough young people in it that sometimes I pretend I'm living in my own apartment with cool roommates: like when you play house in preschool but this is my real life. I'll be in the elevator with some people around my age and I'll take out my keys and go to my apartment like it's no big deal and I'm certainly paying rent; sometimes I'll even say "Hey" because whatever.

A couple months ago a fucking hot guy moved in next to me. I know because my mom told me. Whenever I pass him I use my "hey"move. Oh, I'm just unlocking my apartment:"hey." I see you're standing by the elevator on Saturday night. You may have noticed I'm standing here too. It's because I'm going out and will probably have a lot of fun. I'm like that: "hey."

So I was getting ready to go over to my friend's house last night and my mom told me the shirt I had been wearing all day was ugly and I should change. This really hurt my feelings so I told her as I left. After I had opened the door into the hallway and saw my hot neighbour hanging out by the elevator, and this is not a fucking joke, she screams: "ANTONIA, YOU ARE A BEAUTIFUL YOUNG LADY!"

I'm that kind of blog

This is just really a really quick post before I finish my other post because I need to share this information.

On blogger I have stats feature and one of the special little stats tools is "keywords," which lets me see what people searched for that brought them to my blog. Here are my two favorite:

1. "makeouts don't count"

2. "the sexy move that works from 20 feet away"

Like who searches this shit in google? If I want validation that makeouts don't count I'll just call up one of my sluttier friends, and if I want a move that works from 20 ft away I'll probably call the same person. And, either way, these are the kinds of searches that bring up my blog. I'm that kind of blog.

Also, if you're curious, the "move that works from 20 ft away" * is walking like a slut. Shocking.

*Just getting more readers here.