I'm nurturing my mind and thinking long term

Whenever I don't have anything to do I usually go to Barnes and Noble. I'll think oh know where's the day going? Then I'll hit up B&N, as I call it, and feel like I got some serious shit done. Buying book feels exponentially more productive because it says, "I am nurturing my mind and thinking long term,"  and when you carry it around (cover out--either in your hand or in the pocket of your leather messenger back and/or cardigan) people will fucking notice. 

Let me point out that if the cover references the book's movie remake, this does not count. Like if Kiera Knightley's underbite is dominating  you shouldn't buy it. Or, and be careful because they are getting way too tricky about this, if the book is published as a "Barnes and Noble Classic."  I cannot stand this. I want a cover that says, "Hey, you're special and you get the cover because you're reading the book. It's very subtle but you're in!" I don't want it branded like a fucking cow.

I decided to go to B&N this weekend with S because I really wanted the new book True Prep; a remake of The Official Preppy Handbook, which came out in the '80s. So we went downstairs to ask where it was at the information desk. Let me just add that wwe were on the Upper East Side it's not exactly "shocking" that our pearls were in. So anyway, we go up to the desk and the two people working there were probably never copied on Gossip Girl, they've probably never even seen it**, if you know what I mean. *** Here's our conversation:

Me: Do you have the new preppy handbook? 

Bitch: The WHAT?

Me: The preppy handbook.

Bitch 2: I think all the preppy books are upstairs. 

Bitch: Ya try the dog section. 

THIS IS TRUE. It's ridiculous. I mean come ON we have dog walkers. 

*(Atonement, Never Let Me Go, Pride and Prejudice,  HOLY SHIT SHE IS FUCKING EVERYWHERE ) **Ugh!! ***EEW!

Don't stop

Ok, to be honest, I have no idea what the fuck is going on in this video. It's completely ridiculous (what is she wearing? who are these people? There is no logic). But if you can just listen to the song (I would maybe even consider turning away) it's pretty hot. 

and I'M SORRY I've been on hiatus. I will return on Monday. 

CAN YOU HEAR ME?

You know some of my thoughts  about the elevator,  but I think its time for new reflections. Have you ever been in the elevator--obviously its very crowded--and someone's phone starts ringing. Of course, they have no idea where they put it in their sweet cargo pants so they start patting themselves down like a tan white person going through security at the airport. 

Then when they find it they pick it up and  instead of turning the sound off, they stare at the screen for an unknown reason, and then they do do this: they say, "Hey! I'm in the elevator! CAN YOU HEAR ME?" 

Hey, I can hear you. Oh, yes, its me in the elevator with you. When you considered not answering, or even just turning the sound off, but didn't want me to miss out, you guessed accurately: I'm very invested in your personal life. Not only is it more interesting than mine but also , told extra loud, it sounds a lot more fun too. I will take note. 

I didn't have Sprint so I couldn't reach you

Here's a moderately embarrassing confession: I love reading "missed connections" on craigslist. The thing is that some of the missed connections posts are out of control. For example, "You had cum all over you." That's the subject line. Can you imagine someone seeing that and being like, "Oh yes! That was me! You found me! Thank goodness!" Another one had "To the girl drawing me on the 6 train" and then the actual post started with "I did notice that you were drawing me."

Being a romantic, I'm fairly convinced the Sprint "any second could be the second" ad, where the guy sees the girl on the other train and changes his ticket, is probably going to happen to me.

That's why it's important for me to checked missed connections because there's probably someone who was like "Hey, I saw you yesterday. I looked at you sitting in the train and I saw my future flash before me but in this really cool backwards sequence but I didn't have Sprint so I couldn't reach you." And I'm like, Don't worry, I'm looking for love online so that's perfect.

Pretend-I'm-A-Music-Blog-Friday Returns!

In case you were starting to doubt Pretend-I'm-a-Music-Blog-Fridays:
*Give it a little time to start. There is a fake news broadcast in the beginning. Woowee



Not only is the video sweet, but the song is too. I was going to put the title here; but, if I do, more people looking for porn will come to the blog. AND IT IS NOT MY FAULT. My blog came up when someone from Sudan searched "fucking beach,"clearly they've had enough of the sand. OR, since the rainforest isn't going to happen, are ready to put it to good use.

Can I have some?

Mmm, french toast. Can I have some?

"I run down the center stairway toward the sweet smell of Canadian maple syrup. The crisp bacon sizzling, the hash browns roasting. There’s French toast sprinkled with sugar and globby eggs being squished and squashed to be scrambled. All these wonderful sounds and smells make my mouth water and my nose twitch."


This quotation was taken from today's NY Post article, "Is your school out to lunch?" I am absolutely devastated that I can't find the accompanying picture online and I'm really sorry to put down the 5th grader who wrote it, but it has to happen. You know that scene in A Christmas Story when the mom goes "Who's my little piggy? Who's my little piggy?" Yup, like that. The picture is up close of this rather corpulent young girl drizzling syrup over a jenga game of french toast. We can only assume this is her second serving. 


The first person account goes on to add, "I’m worried too many New Yorkers will read this and steal our food! What will happen to us then?" WHO WILL FEED ME? And even worse dilemma arrives when you get breakfast for lunch: "Now, I want to ask myself: If breakfast is lunch and lunch is dinner and dinner is breakfast, where does dessert belong?" AAAH OH NO! HOW WILL WE GET DESSERT?! HOW THE FUCK WILL WE GET DESSERT?!! WE NEED IT! What will I do without dessert? If french toast counts then I'm fucking pissed. No, really, I am, because it shouldn't. 


Isn't there anything we can do to help this poor child?!! 


"low fat chocolate milk and ice cream!" Does low fat count? Could we put the ice-cream in between a bagel? If so, would it melt? How about ice-cream cake? Fuck it, ice-cream cake pizza. 

There's this really cute new place in the village!

Recently I wanted to see a friend I hadn't seen in awhile; I wasn't arriving in Boston until fourish so I asked if he wanted to "get a coffee." Then when I saw him he was like "What the fuck was up with the 'coffee' stuff?" He was drinking a beer.

He was right. The only really legit time to "grab a coffee" is in the morning because if I have a coffee at four I will be fucking wired for the rest of the night and will probably not sleep. The thing is "Wanna grab a vodka tonic at four" sounds pretty aggressive. Note: the "grab" verb is really important. Whatever the time of the day I wouldn't dispense with it. I've never heard someone say "Would you like to sit down and drink a coffee with me today?" It has to be transient, and also very quick.

I feel like coffee falls under this excellent new term my friends and I developed: "sobering." It's not like when something really horrific happens and it has a "sobering effect," it's like when you would absolutely hook up with someone after a couple of beers and then they ask you if you want to go out to dinner the next night. You would say, "He sobered me." (Unfortunately, he did not "have sex" with me).

Apparently, the only time dudes go to brunch is if there's either a)a quasi-sobering effect or b) a courtesy, because they aren't going to "get brunch" on their own. Guys are never like, "OMG , hey man, what are you up to? Last night was the best! Do you wanna get brunch? There's this really cute new place in the village! We should try it!"

Conviction by numbers

Over the weekend I ran a half-marathon in Boston. There is nothing which makes you feel more "just like an number" than actually being a fucking number and starting a race surrounded by thousands of people, who will then proceed to fart, spit, and dump their water on you. And, since I don't listen to music when I run, I heard everything. The guy running and farting who thought no one could hear him? Yup, I did. I knew it was him. And I looked at him so he knew I knew, but I don't think he was even aware it was happening. Runners are the worst.

The most important part of the race is OBVIOUSLY the gear. So first there's like what you are actually going to wear to the race. I don't even mean what's comfortable, I mean how are you going to signal to other runners that you know what's up with the race: you shop at Super Runners and not Nike because you aren't fucking around. Athletic apparel with a number(s) on it, which do not actually reference your specific number from a previous athletic event but is going for more of a trendy feel, won't cut it. For example, Old Navy shorts with "27 American Football" does not count.

And then there's the actual event gear. Beyond important. This is key because it will signal to people/ future competitors that you race. You don't run "for fun," you run because winning is fun. (The fact that you are not from Kenya will inevitably work against this and should prompt you to buy gear from races you don't run ---just for conviction by numbers).

Oh my god, look how she does the macarena

Ha! Weren't expecting that were you! Do you remember the Macarena from middle school dances? The song would come on and everyone went crazy. There was the standard way to do it but also the slutty way. Like we would stand and look at someone and go, "Oh my god look how she does the macarena."

I can't add anything

I can't beat this article about Mallomars by Ralph Gardner in today's WSJ.It's amazing. Here's just one pull quote: "instead of being happy for him and his fiancee, I was secretly envious that he had access to fresher cookies than I did, probably straight from the factory."

See question 9

Last night I went to an excellent dance performance where they handed everyone an audience questionnaire. Luckily on the top it assured that "No information will be linked to you personally" in case we were worried BAM was code for Dharma Initiative.

I had no choice but to look and I'm glad I did. The very best question was # 9 : What type of experience do you typically look for when you attend a live performance (Please check all that apply). I'm just going to give you the best ones

-Affordable: Are you poor? We won't like that. If so, please stop filling out the survey now, as your answers are of no use to us and, in general, we do not care.

-Countercultural: I only see things that look weird and different. If a group of my friends are going somewhere and they ask me to come, I say "No." I do this because I'm different. Did you see my outfit? It should be clear.

-Exclusive: Have you seen Gossip Girl? Like that.

-Star-Studded: Yes, I would like my live performances like a constellation or like the Upper West Side on Hanukkah.

The next questions asked if we went to the Public Theater, my friend wrote "??! see question 9 re exclusivity."

There was no "leisurely pace"

As soon as Brooklyn got sweet, so did biking. I don't mean like biking around the park, I mean biking to work, or around NYC, in your cool outfit.

When I was at Oxford people biked everywhere, so naturally I got a bike because I wanted to fit in. I wanted to bike on the wrong side of the road and feel cool about it. You know what? Not fun. It sounds like a good idea but it is not. First off, I can't not bike as fast as possible--there was no "leisurely pace". When I got on that bike I was not fucking around. Whether or not I had to be somewhere soon was completely irrelevant. I was going to fucking race to my destination: anyone who was next to me was not a friend, they were my enemy, and they were going to lose. 

The problem with riding a bike is that it's impossible to dress properly. I would start out feeling fucking awesome about my outfit and then by the time I reached my tutorial--in record time--I was sweating and completely disheveled. What are you supposed to wear? There is really only a five minute period where you are actually hot, but it is really hot.

Speaking of hot: I was in Nantucket for the 4th of July this summer and my friend suggested a group of us bike to the beach. It sounds fucking awesome. It sounds like we're about to take a scene from Now and Then and be best friends forever. We are not. 

People love Pizza. They don't love math.

I was innocently watching TV over the weekend, when this ad came on. It's true, this is a real ad and it glorifies other ads that really concerned me.  Let me just re-quote, even though you just watched it, Pizza Hut now promises no more "confusing deals, or math problems." I'm sorry: am I missing something? At what point were deals on food complicated math? I can only assume they're referring to a mind boggling two-for- one deal or, even worse, buy-this  get-that bullshit. Or "super sizing," which might lead the inquistive  mind/fat fuck to question just how super is super? Is it super enough? Thank you Pizza Hut I was worried that, when I wanted to stuff my face, I might be led astray. Fuck math, feed me. 

I'm going rococo

I feel like my recent music posts have had no sluts. And considering the number of music posts it seem disproportionate. In order to apologize here is a hot music video and an excellent song.