It sucks to be me!

Let's take this moment to discuss a few things currently occupying my brain and subsequently preventing real thought from taking place. First and foremost, I would like NYU students to do me a favor. Clear your schedules for five minutes each and every day. Then use that time to go fuck yourselves. Seriously. I was trying to get a few sound bites from people on the street today for a story on Facebook and the elections. Innocent and easy enough, right? Wrong! The only person who agreed to talk to me was a non-NYU student. The rest were just too darn busy adjusting their ironic flannel shirts. I am not going to pretend I haven't done my fair share of ignoring people on the street. However, I didn't want them to save the children/trees/whales/Democrats/endangered Peruvian slugs. I just wanted a goddamn minute to talk. I know they are on Facebook. Who else would send me those dumbfuck "What Disney Princess Are You" invites and asking me to join the "RIP HEATHxoxoxoxo" groups?

Moving on- I tried to be a good person today. A friend-type told me (half in jest) that I have a heart made out of lead. If it even exists, that is. So, coming up the stairs of my building, I noticed someone had left their keys in their door. I knocked on the door for what seemed like a lifetime, only to have the woman open the door, grab her keys, and shut the door without even so much as a mumbled "thanks." I really hope she caught sight of me flipping her the bird as she hastily slammed the door. I also hope that should I ever feel the need to vomit in the stairwell, I choose to hurl in front of 4C.

And finally, as I prepare for sleep, I would like to ask my brain to come up with some more interesting dreams. Last night I had a dream about getting cheese from a deli. The night before that it was buying paper towels at Duane Reade.*

I give up.

*I think I know what this is about. I went to bed angry that one of my roommates uses all of the paper towels and never, ever buys more. Ever. I am not saying he should adopt the Brawny Man as his god, but if you are going to use 4000000 a day, fucking buy more, ok? Thanks.

Welcome back, Kotter

I took a little vacation from life about a month ago. I relaxed with other members of the over-fed, white upper-middle class on a cruise ship. It was nice.

Then I came back to New York and resumed my 9-6, which was like sticking my soul back in the freezer. School starts again in four days, and I am obviously thrilled. I love nothing more than doing work to appease someone who doesn't even take the time to learn my name.

I am bookending my days with panic attacks about my future and what I want to do with my life. On the bright side, I make sure to set aside time every day to stop worrying about my future. I use that free hour to live in the past and/or hate my current life. All in all, things are just as I left them one month ago.

I saw something funny today

In 8th grade, older brother played me Depeche Mode's "Personal Jesus" for the first time. I thought I had FOUND MUSIC. It was pure genius. Important things I did not realize at the time:

1. I was about 10 years too late to be considered cool because I listened to DM (a pattern that defines my taste even now).
2. The music is actually quite terrible.

The man playing the electric violin at the Union Square subway station today didn't get the memo (or maybe his position on the cultural bell curve is even more regrettable than mine). Let me paint you a mental picture. The man had his violin plugged into a little violin amp. Who knew those even existed? Even better were the neon lights coming from within the violin, producing a laser light show of sorts in tandem with his jammin'. His long, gloriously feathered hair was tied in a low pony tail. Hey, violin man thought, if I grow a lot of hair in the back, no one will notice that I have none in the front! His blouse billowed around him as he worked his magic on that violin, his pointy faux-Italian shoes protruding from his too-tight Levis. And what was the gentleman playing? Why, Depeche Mode, of course! I didn't realize it at the time, but I was able to recall the lyrics in an instant. Bi-annual dentist appointments have paid off two-fold: clean teeth and the ability to recall the words to innumerable Kool Jazz/Easy Listening songs. I came home, looked it up, and the song was "Enjoy the Silence" by Depeche Mode.

Needless to say, it was a spectacle. I laughed a lot. Then I ate a piece of cheese and watched the subway almost squish a rat and nearly barfed the cheese back up. While I cannot provide you with a reenactment of the show (my electric violin is in the shop), I can link you to the original video! May 1990 live on forever in our hearts...and subway stations.

Sometimes you feel like a nut (and by sometimes, I mean always)

I have a lot of theories living up in my little head, some of which I came up with, but most of which I did not. The one I think about the most (we'll save my original theories for another moon) is the chaos theory. You know, some butterfly flaps its wings and then there is a tornado in Texas. This is also called the "butterfly effect," which is not to be confused with that terrible movie starring Demi's son...er...husband and that faceless chick whose name I can never remember.

Anywho, I believe it, but probably to an absurd degree. Some things are just obvious. I left the water running in the sink and now my house is flooded! I didn't wait for my food to cool off before stuffing my face, and I burned my lip and got a herp-like blister (true story!). See? Obviously related.

Now, the correlation between some events is a little harder to see, but I choose to believe they are connected anyway. I forgot to return an important email and my eyeball swelled up. I told my mom I didn't want to have children and my computer denied me internet for a while (withholding children, withholding internet...so obviously connected!). The chaos theory is clearly at work here. To resolve this latter issue, I swore to the mighty Zeus (Mom) I will not only have kids, but I will raise them Jewish. I promptly got my internet back. And my period.

P.S.- I turned to my good academic resource, Wikipedia, to read about the actual chaos theory. There were lots of big words, one of which was four syllables! Yikes. But then I clapped out the syllables of my own name (yes, clapped. Even smart kids need help sometimes.) and realized that my name is also four syllables. Nevertheless, while this is not a list of proper examples of the real chaos theory, who wants to read all of those big words? Not me! So accept this as science and lets pretend like I am right about everything and the smartest person alive.

I am typing this from my bed, as I still don't have a desk. Frugality plus laziness equals computer on my lap and a bed full of crumbs (oh yeah, I don't have a kitchen table or a couch, either). Anyway, I just looked across the alley and saw straight into another apartment's living room. They have a couch. And they are sitting on it. Which means they spend time in that room. Which means they have seen me in various states of naked. Which makes me both happy and slightly embarrassed.

I watched one of my least favorite shows while eating dinner on my tabledeskbed tonight. It's that one where they make over the houses of people who have endured some sort of trauma. I cried like a little bitch, as I am unmedicated and pms-ing. Damn you, family entertainment for tugging on my heart strings. Damn you, ice heart, for melting a little. Sometimes, the show is a little too Jesus-y for my taste. A hot carpenter leads his minions in the construction of a new shelter, whose inhabitants promise to spread the good word about charity. Ring ANY bells? Still, I suppose it's nice to see something that encourages faith in humanity's benevolence and the goodwill of others. I can't watch more than once a month, though. I cry too much and being dehydrated is annoying.

I am thinking of legally changing my name to Debbie Downer. Whenever I say or do anything, all I hear is that "womp wooomp" sound from the SNL skit. I can't break free from my past, and it is most certainly killing my desire to be in the present and furthermore, to create a future. On that note, I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving and enjoyed themselves and actually GAVE thanks for their life.

See?? WOMP WOMP.