Indian summer

Th holidays have a way of turning normally-aethist idiotic banter into idiotic banter with a sprinkle of Jesus thrown in. For example, while leaving my friend Kate's apartment on Saturday, I had the great fortune of listening to two guys discuss Christmas.

Guy #1: "Dude, not only Catholics celebrate Christmas."
Guy #2: "Oh? Well who else celebrates?"
Guy #1: "Jews for Jesus."

Forget about everyone else. Christmas Island is home to the Jews for Jesus and Catholics only. Protestants? Episcopalians? Find yourselves a new holiday.

On a semi-related note, it's December and it's 60 degrees outside. Now, I am not a huge fan of city snow. It turns into the most putrid slush known to mankind, soaking my jeans to the knees. However, a little hint of winter would be nice. I'm not asking for a blizzard- just a little cold help me believe that global warming hasn't already turned the earth into a raisin.

It's either snow, or a letter to the building asking them to turn my air conditioning back on.

Actors are people, too

Instead of working on a final paper for my second useless major, I decided to brush up on my celebrity news (you know, so I don't look stupid when another NYU student asks me about it while nursing a Stella at the underage bar du jour).

This just in! Natasha Lyonne turns herself in to NY court...

...for threatening to sexually molest a dog.

See? Even big movie stars make mistakes. Threatening to fist Fido is just another human moment. We all have them.* Like when Mel Gibson got wasted and hated on the Jews. Shit happens. The real question is, who DOESN'T hate on minorities when intoxicated?** So Natasha, I feel for you. I am sure you are not the first one to threaten a house pet with explicit sexual harm while high, nor will you be the last. Congrats on reminding us that celebrities are indeed humans, too.

*Maybe not.
**Everyone.

Dear Bodega

Dear Corner Bodega,

While I appreciate your convenience and your willingness to serve my needs, I feel like I must be honest: You just don't do it for me anymore. You have been a saving grace many times, allowing me to purchase things like condoms and olives on the fly. However, I cannot take anymore of your bad habits.

Why must you make everything so expensive? Do you honestly think that I wouldn't notice? Like the time that you took a price tag and made the $1 cookies $2.50. At first, I thought it was just a mistake. Oh no. You just enjoy overcharging me, milking me for all I'm worth. How about the time you charged me for a spoon to eat my yogurt with? I hardly think that was necessary. $6.75 for a container of hummus? Please. Shit's not even that expensive at Whole Foods.

I also think that it is time you consider updating your inventory. I'm pretty sure your meat section expired last August. I cannot speak for everyone, but I know that I sure dislike E. Coli. Also, don't you think it's time to throw out that dusty jar of God-knows-what next to the salsas? It may be a kind of seafood, but it looks more like foreskin. If I wasn't so afraid to touch the jar, I would look at the ingredients. But alas, the layer of dust is a total turn-off.

So, while I thank you for the nights when you have provided me with coffee when no one else was open (albeit awful, expensive coffee), I think it's time I start visiting other markets. You don't seem to care about what I think, and I need a bodega more in tune with my needs. Sorry.

Love,
Ariella

Ahoy!

Announcement!

Pigeons can go fuck themselves.

That is all.

Florida Sucks

It's official: My parents are moving to Florida.

The festering shitfuck that is God's waiting room will gain three new residents (Younger Brother is going, too) sometime within the next six months. They showed me a picture of their new neighborhood. It has some cute little name, like Palm Village, and comes complete with a golf course and two country clubs. You also get a welcome mat when you move in:



"But Ariella, the new house has a pool!" I don't swim. I can count the number of times I have been swimming in the past decade on one hand. The idea of being submerged in water reminds me too much of the womb (and those days are long gone).

"But Ariella, there is a very active Jewish social scene!" Fantastic! Maybe now I can relive the horror that was BBYO and all of the other assorted Jew groups I was forced to join. The first time around wasn't nearly painful enough.

"But Ariella, the walls have cherry baseboards!" Alright, you got me there, Mom and Dad. I have always wanted cherry baseboards. Maybe Florida won't be so bad after all!

Dicks.