If I held
my breath
like I said
I would
have died
a long time ago
waiting
for you

I suddenly feel cool

I am simple. Which is why this video kept me laughing for far too long. (Lovingly plucked from Gawker, which lovingly plucked it from BWE.) Enjoy.

Why don't I just make the check payable to YOU?!

I am moving again. Not like you care, but listen to me whine about it anyway. I thought I found a great place. Turns out the mice and roaches think it's great, too. I am not such a JAP that a few bugs would cause me to pack up again, but there is also a total lack of heat in this place. Like, what? Is that legal? I don't care if you still think I am being JAP-y about living here. Heat is heat. I need it, end of story. I have to draw the line somewhere. This brings me to my next point. Another one of my roommates (there are five of us) just moved out and Nerd Kid moved in. I tried not to judge him. I failed.

His dad and his brother helped him move in. Nerd's brother looks like a model and, for a brief moment, I got really excited at the idea of living with a male model. Welcome home! Those hopes were dashed when I saw his nerdy little sibling, my actual roommate. Minus ten cool points. Then Nerd , being surprisingly stupid for someone who has so little else going for himself, unpacked onto his bed. Leaving him nowhere to sleep. So he slept on the couch, setting his alarm at 4:30 am so he could unpack and "not disturb us." I can think of very few things that are more disturbing than listening to someone try to assemble an electric tie rack in the hallway at 4:30 am. I guess he went back to bed after a while. I went to work.

Flash forward to just now, when Nerd wanted to talk about manufacturing in post-war America. Except he didn't say it like that. "You know, lotsa factories and stuff you know like closed in cities like Houston and New York and you know places like Cleveland." He taught me all about our rich capitalist history. The whole time, I debated whether or not to be an asshole once he finally shut his yap (about 20 minutes after his riveting introduction on urban theory).

I, of course, decided to be an asshole.

I tried to engage him in a conversation about post-Fordist deindustrialization within the context of fleeting modernist values and the push toward socio-spatial differentiation within urban centers. Is he familiar with the works of David Harvey? Because Harvey's theories on capitalism are simply fascinating, as he makes very strong arguments toward the growth of the built environment aroud the commodification of capital. Although, marxist geography must be countered with a well-though deconstruction of someone like Burgess. You would like that Nerd, as you work within the capital market. Which as you so articulately noted was the cause behind the decline of textile manufacturing in urban areas such as Houston and New York. We should discuss this at length another time. I am sure you have some wonderful insights, especially on Burgess and the Chicago School.

Yeah that's right. I may be paying 200k for a degree that won't give me shit in the real world. In the academic world, though, my degree is in Taking Names and Kicking Ass. Don't even try to impress me. The chances of that went out the door right along with your change sorter, which I watched you knock over with your lava lamp when you moved in (one of the most gratifying moments of my life to-date). You have no idea what you are talking about. I have earned the right to SCHOOL you in the art of rhetoric on urban spaces.

Please remember that when tipping your Starbucks barista, which is what I will be doing after I graduate, trying to earn enough to qualify for food stamps and government cheese.

A Small Thought

I read the "Missed Connections" on craigslist in an effort to remind myself that romance, by way of complete happenstance, is still a possibility.

Then I click over to "Miscellaneous Romance" to remind myself that there are so many goddamn freaks out there, I don't want to talk to anyone I don't already know, let alone date them.

I'll pass on that breast massage, sir. Thanks anyway.

odds and ends

Thanks to that nifty SiteMeter at the bottom of this page, I can stalk those who choose to waste their life reading this thing. I saw that someone from Tennessee was recently reading my insightful and well-crafted thoughts. I don't have any friends in Tennessee, so I looked to see who this young chap was. Turns out they found my blog by Google searching the phrase "I had a gigantic wedgie." Needless to say, I am pretty proud of myself.

I am finally settled in my new apartment...minus the bags and boxes of crap I am just too damn lazy to unpack. I am sure I will get to it eventually. Maybe. The place itself is decent, albeit a far cry from the lap of luxury. I have a nice kitchen, for all of the cooking I don't do. I also have some fun roommates, one of whom caught me standing half-naked (read: all-naked) in front of the a/c yesterday. He looked a little scared, which made me laugh. I feel like I should have warned them about my nudist habits when I moved in. That would have totally killed the surprise, though, inevitably killing my joy.

I think I am going to go introduce myself to the people that live above me at some point. That way, I can ask them why they feel the need to rearrange their furniture at 6 a.m. EVERY GODDAMN DAY. Also, I don't think pets are allowed in this building. That elephant stomping around up there needs to go. Oh, that's your girlfriend? Sad. She still needs to leave. Well...bye.

It's free, but...

There is always a catch.

I need a place to live. I see a craigslist post offering free room in a sweet apartment for a girl. The catch? I would have to rub moisturizer on the owner of the place after he lays out in the sun all day. I would be lying if I said I didn't respond to the ad. When staring poverty in the face, one considers extreme measures in order to ensure survival. I eventually decided against the idea (of course), but that idea of free rent is still so tempting.

I need to exercise. I go to the lovely free yoga studio near me for some relaxation and movement. It is packed, and I am stuffed in a corner next to a woman whose physical build reminds me of a ball of dough, with a leotard acting as the saran wrap keeping it all together. She laughs a lot, as I, Bi-polar Betty, sob hysterically. Then she coughs in my mouth. She is obviously a smoker, because my mouth suddenly tastes of nicotine. I gag in between sobs (it's been a long week). Free yoga? Awesome. Fat chick coughing smoker filth IN MY MOUTH? Hardly awesome.

I need to eat. I go meet a friend for $3 margs, and eat the chips and salsa they bring to the table as dinner. Cheapest dinner ever (free!). I wake up this morning to stomach cramps, and have been in and out of the bathroom all morning. I think the salsa was made by Ex-Lax.

Choose your free carefully.