tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26366030955176545132024-02-20T11:10:03.495-05:00Something on the BurnerUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger87125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-71662895807029606092010-02-16T13:03:00.007-05:002010-02-17T09:59:05.520-05:00Don't Be a Menace to Norwood While Drinking Apple Schnapps in Your 'HoodIt’s officially the suckiest heights of winter in Cincinnati. We have somewhere between 9 and infinity inches of snow on the ground. It’s not unbearably cold, but it’s a little windy and staying around the 20s. I’m sick of wearing heavy rubber boots every day that only middle aged women have complemented. I’m getting tired of running from one door to the next. Not that I’ve ever been a terribly outdoorsy person, but I’d give just about anything to have one day to sit by the fountain and watch people and their dogs walk by. Or have a drink in the park and feel the sun on my skin. I’d take just sitting on the stoop of the coffee shop downstairs. I miss our Saturday afternoon walks around the neighborhood. I had a dream just last night that I had a bike but couldn’t ride it. Days can get a little boring now. Even though I’m at work 40 hours a week, there’s always a few hours out of the week where I’m at home and wish there was something else to do. When there’s nothing on tv, I’ve reached every corner I care to see on Facebook, I’m not in the mood for dishes or hanging laundry, and whatever the last meal I had was is still digesting and I’m not hungry. Though I can pass a surprising amount of time staring all googley-eyed at my boyfriend and telling him in multiple ways how much I love him and marveling and his hands or eyes or whatever body part, I suspect that gets annoying sometimes.<br /><br />The work I do often requires very little thought. It lends itself very well to listening to podcasts and various radio shows because I can pay more attention to what my headphones are saying than I need to pay to my work most of the time. Radio shows also do a pretty decent job of drowning out the chatter from the cubicles around me. I’ve got pregnancy and kids talk flying over one side of the cubicle wall (for god’s sake, please don’t name your baby Aiden) and angry typing and a grating Midwestern accent coming from behind me. For the last few months I’ve been listening to old episodes of <a href="http://thisamericanlife.org/">This American Life</a>. I’ve listened to years and years worth of stories. Most of the time they give me some spark of inspiration. Some new idea I hadn’t had before. Some insight into the human condition or something. In the first part of most episodes there’s usually a quick 5 or so minute introductory story. Fluff, sometimes. I’ve had tons of ideas for my own little fluff stories, but I don’t really have the equipment or (mostly) the ambition to narrate and edit my own collection of short radio stories. Also, I would assume that if they didn’t air one of my stories at some point, I would take it as a personal rejection from Ira Glass himself and probably never be the same.<br /><br />This short story is the first in what I hope to be a series of stories inspired by those I’ve heard on TAL. Stories I can write while the snow piles up on the sidewalks or perhaps when the radio shows run dry. This on is a true account, but perhaps there is fiction in my future.<br /><br />I was 19 or 20 and working in a hotel pizzeria with other kids around my age and my future ex-sister-in-law who was also my roommate at the time. We decided that night to come back to our place and drink some beers and play cards or Scategories or give out blow jobs or something. It was me, my future ex-sister-in-law, and 2 of our high school senior co-workers (both male). They were simultaneously dating the 16 year old who worked with us and ended up never speaking to each other again by the end of that summer, although they had been best friends from childhood. That 16 year old is now in her twenties with 2 children and several abortions under her belt. Her boyfriend is in jail and more than 10 years her senior. Neither of the babies belonged to those boys, although one of the abortions did. Dodged a bullet there I suppose.<br /><br />My future ex husband was living in this apartment at the same time, but details are hazy as to why he wasn’t there that night. I think he may have been at a Phish concert on the other side of the country or some other place I wouldn’t be caught dead in. The night was uneventful. We drank some beers, had some laughs, and stayed up very late. In college fashion (which none of us happened to have much experience with) we stacked each beer we drank into a rather unimpressive beer can tower on the dining room table in the middle of our large apartment. I took my dog to bed while my roomie took one of those other dogs to bed. She had to work very early that morning at her other job and agreed to drive the two boys home while I was asleep.<br /><br />I hadn’t been asleep long when around 11am I was startled out of bed. I could see flashing lights coming through my blinds and I looked out of the window. There was a piercing noise I didn’t know the origin of nor care to seek out. Across the street, a couple of houses down, a fire truck was sitting in the road with its lights on. I wasn’t particularly alarmed. It was a pretty common occurrence to see fire trucks and ambulances on our street. Probably once a month one of each came to a neighbor’s house down the street where we assumed an elderly person lived. Once I came home to find our drunken hillbilly neighbor had fallen down the stairs of our foyer and exploded the finial of the handrail with his head. Apparently he had been rushing out of the apartment to get more beer before beer sales stopped at 1:30. The kids wandering around the front porch in their pajamas didn’t seem too shocked and the paramedics let us squeeze by to our door.<br /><br />In a hungover stupor, a few minutes later, I could make out loud male voices yelling in the common hallway of our building. Then I heard the familiar click of my front door and heavy feet. My dog perked up. I was confused. I heard someone asking if anyone was home, and now realized that there was a very loud beeping coming from my dining room. My bedroom door opened a couple of inches and I heard a man call to me, that he needed me to come out. I was mortified, pretty sure that he had seen me sprawled out and pantless on my bed. I found some pants on my floor and scooped up my dog. In my apartment were no less than 5 firefighters in full gear. Stomping around my dining room. If you haven’t seen me before, let me tell you I’m very small and look younger than my age. There I stood, bleary eyed at 11am completely alone (and 19), and trying not to notice the beer tower, empty cups, and liquor bottles on the dining room table. My neighbor from across the hall, a sweet middle aged woman who did some sort of new age healing touch out of her apartment, peeked her head in. She explained that she’d been knocking on the door for an hour and had called our home phone and no one answered and she was worried. My carbon monoxide detector had been going. That stupid thing that my mom made me plug in, beeping for the last couple of hours while I was, quite literally, passed out. The firefighters stomped around a little longer and did not find anything (other than the obvious) amiss and suggested that I change my battery.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-75218499073151365862009-11-19T08:42:00.002-05:002009-11-19T08:44:08.283-05:00Band Name From Captcha<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisI9HnAAj4SMveR6SEpdSm2Esw4ZXE9id0k-piJjv_J2wPCNunuTW4v-g_dF3sYPNp3mFBIRFp0moZbQ1Vy9w1eiR5l-Uvota7pTZ_nBub2gAria-L29R4py6yE1qUkc6YqBlHZk9Vl0k/s1600/Band+Name.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 192px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405809980088912642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisI9HnAAj4SMveR6SEpdSm2Esw4ZXE9id0k-piJjv_J2wPCNunuTW4v-g_dF3sYPNp3mFBIRFp0moZbQ1Vy9w1eiR5l-Uvota7pTZ_nBub2gAria-L29R4py6yE1qUkc6YqBlHZk9Vl0k/s320/Band+Name.jpg" /></a> Or maybe a good happy hour where volcano themed drinks and apps are 1/2 off?<br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-28187951122821737722009-10-19T10:49:00.002-04:002009-10-19T10:53:47.779-04:00A Conversation Regarding DecencyRex: Whenever I hear TLC's 'Creep' all I can think about is Chili's underboob in silky pjs. Does that make me a lesbian? Is that insensitive to the memory of Lisa "Left-Eye" Lopez? So many questions.<br /><br />CoCo: Oh man, I remember that underboob.<br /><br />Rex: It gave me confusing feelings!<br /><br />CoCo: It was quite a formative image to see at that young age.<br /><br />Rex: I think that underboob sent me into a tailspin of failed relationships that ultimately lead to my divorce and I'm just now coming to terms with it.<br /><br />Coco: EFFING CHILI!!!<br />Coco: Ruining your life.<br />Coco: Gaw whaddabitch.<br /><br />Rex: It's hard to overcome your inner shame after seeing things like that in childhood.<br />Rex: It was really careless of her.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-23815150720995795992009-09-15T12:14:00.008-04:002010-02-16T13:08:59.855-05:00General Unfocused Blog UpdateryOh man, so much has happened since I last visited my poor neglected blog. I’m back at this 9-5 desk job scenario and I’m trying hard to keep a positive attitude, but I’m sort of missing waiting tables.<br /><br />The highlights of this cube farm:<br /><br />Wednesday afternoon snacks provided by a different member of my department, kindergarden-style.<br /><br />Sometimes people bring in free donuts. It’s true that a donut tastes amazing when it’s free, even if all of the icing slid off into the box and the raspberry jelly filling is reminiscent of blended jell-o.<br /><br />This building was built in the 50’s I’d guess and the bathrooms have never been remodeled. There is an ashtray built into the toilet paper dispenser in every stall. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to take up smoking so I can try this at home. (Smoking indoors is illegal in Ohio, y'all. Freedom ain’t free. Or whatever.)<br /><br />It will be a cold day in hell when I miss a single Facebook update or Twitter. Down time has me combing the internet for any kind of entertainment I can find.<br /><br />I’ve become the honorary Johnny Cash of the office. It’s so cold in here that I wear my black winter coat every day with black jeans (because they’re cooler than normal ones) and boots. At least I look cool in fingerless gloves. I bet everyone thinks I'm mysterious, guys. I’m championing logo Snuggies for our Christmas gift this year!<br /><br /><br /><div align="left">My boss put a birdfeeder outside the window we both face. The birds get into crazy battles for the food. There is a splash of blood from one of the incidents on the window. Someone put up a post-it right underneath it that says "Thunderdome!"</div><br /><br /><div align="left">I also I have pretty insane desktop background that was actually sent to us by a client as a legit email stationary.</div><div align="left"></div><br /><br /><p align="left"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381739289791719778" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgP3iHFp5AVFdVbJe0QJphe1H4rCVq0Yco7pVj8kPjYmVKsF09m7S4tu9xkl_zUBRTdoazLFtqOgjDFI2amZm7QhYj5AI1b4Gnjn9ZLLw5nAc80bGXpYY-hoBzAYAmVOGLO9UWnLTwFTCU/s320/best+email+background+ever.bmp" /><br />So I’m focusing on these positives. I mean, how am I supposed to keep a smile on my face after such epic bummers of the loss of so many icons this year? Michael Jackson? BILLY MAYS? <a href="http://somethingontheburner.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-afternoon-i-came-home-from-few.html">PATRICK SWAYZE</a>!?!? All I can really do is continue my quest to pickle my liver and mourn the end of my bitchin’ summer.<br /><br />I guess I was mostly too poor to really take advantage of doing real stuff this summer. I did get to know the cheapest brands of vodka available: Crown Russe (hailing from Frankfort, KY! lulz), Takka, and Aristocrat if you were wondering. (Oh how I longed for the days before I maxed out my credit life and could afford blueberry vodka and lemonade! Even Popov!) I spent a lot of time crusin’ around, listening to Passion Pit (so much I can’t even explain to you), staying up late internetting and watching Arrested Development or Northern Exposure on DVD. You know. Mainly keeping it overall real.<br /><br />I did complete a couple major life events: divorced and moved several times (from ex husband’s to Mom and Dad’s, to Fire Eagle’s, to my final resting spot with my bf). I’m actually kind of surprised I didn’t have a total meltdown, but I didn’t even really come close. Holding it together well for ruinin’ 8 years of a perfectly decent life. We’re thinking about maybe getting a dog, but I didn’t get married or have a baby. Hey, you know, year’s not up yet! I can collect them all!<br /><br />I turned 26 on the beach this summer. </p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381743929532138114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGPTwRcWUR2PMowLNpG1edr64JS-zcF1QpfUcrYJtxaRWM4QZHMXyGx056LzdUAq2Nm3UsH6zJXhL0LGYBXnCMwQkAY9E8-et_FGpPWwj4BKdLyB7AbXDBDmca36ya7ZBLslUTzZuvOIU/s320/beach+pic.jpg" /><br /><p align="left"></p><p align="left">I impressed my boyfriend hardcore by losing my shoes in a late night drunken ocean swimming adventure and finding them 2 days later on the beach, climbing fences to hot tubs like I should have but never would have done in high school because I was such a prude, catching a soft little brown frog for funsies and letting him go...</p><br /><p align="left">and one of my life’s greatest achievements: with about 10 seconds of trying I renegaded a beer.</p><span style="font-size:78%;"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381741900370977378" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0YYgH1KCPJZpYk-371nZCJRuW6kN56j0jHdJS71xBShyphenhyphengsgLxkIrdrarQS2RXW6byFn-_XdeLcH0aD5sK-lslzS9ofEla8ggOH0IEK2TWlC4-w3hzsRIaGlf09IWQopaYlywuKfNJ6BU/s320/BEER+RENEGADE.jpg" /><br /><p align="center">photo cred:</span></p><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/chrismallo/3370051895/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/chrismallo/3370051895/</a></span><br /><br />For those of you unfamiliar with this practice, it's when someone truly incredible tips a can of beer, finds the soft spot, jams their thumb into it, tips the can up, pops the top and shotguns the beer. (Although I'll admit I'm not a beer drinker and I just did it on principle and passed it to one of the 4 guys who were trying and failing. We had a fridge full of beer with little thumbnail dents all along the bottom that night.)<br /><br />On a final note, some cool people I know contriubute to this cool blog that they’re starting up called <a href="http://overlookedcincy.wordpress.com/">Overlooked Cincinnati</a>. You should add it to your RSS because there’s more cool stuff comin’, and submit some overlooked stuff of your own.<br /><p></p><br /><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-36009279616726811872009-05-28T17:03:00.006-04:002009-05-28T17:44:07.417-04:00Fun Summer StuffI know it's been a long time since I've updated. I have good reason though! The Mr. and I split up (no hard feelings, it's cool it's cool) and my life got a little turned upside down. I'm living with Fire Eagle now in a cool apartment in a cool part of the city, waiting tables, and spending a lot of time smoking hookah, drinking, walking around town, and generally loafing. It's pretty great so far! (I'll get a real job soon, guys)<br /><div></div><br /><div>Keepin' this blog light and summery and all of that, for now, here are 3 things that I am currently loving that I want to share with you.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>(1) Jorts™ (cut-off jean shorts for the layperson) The key is to find the right width. Go shopping for jeans that are snug on the legs so they don't look too flowy when you do the cutting deed. Don't go shopping for shorts. They're always going to be too high school, too short, too dumb. That's not what the hipster kids want to see. When you get your snug cool jeans home, put them on and cut a little slit where you want them to be. A few inches above the knee is legit for girls and guys, but start long. You can always take a little off, but once they're cut they're cut! Take them off and cut a straight line very carefully. Fold them in half and cut in the same place on the other leg. Put them on, boom, instant shorts. All the comfort of jeans with room to breathe and you can ride your bike, unlike in a dress or skirt. Also, throw them in the washer and dryer and trim them up a little when they come out. No one looks cool in freshly cut jorts.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Tip! Dudes: buy girl jeans. Even if you make your girlfriend go to the register and act like they're hers.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>(2) We made up this drink last night, out of desperation, and it turned out so good! Here's what you need.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>A bottle of super cheap vodka. I prefer Popov. </div><div>Soda water</div><div>A lemon</div><div>Sugar</div><div>A microwave</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Mix water and sugar up in a cup, 2 parts sugar to 1 part water. Microwave it and mix it up. (to dissolve the sugar) Boom, simple syrup. Ideally you'll do this before you're desperate because hot sugar melts your ice, duh.</div><br /><div></div><div>Fill a cup with ice. Pour in vodka. As much as you can handle. I do about a 1/3 vodka, but that might be a little much for you amateurs. Add soda water to fill it the rest of the way, add some of that sugar syrup that you made earlier, and squeeze in some lemon. It's so tasty and light and low-cal! (as long as you go light on that sugar, boss) Better than diet tonic any day.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>(3) Rock 'n Roll Tank Tops, as I call them are all the rage in the Me circle right now. My friends band <a href="http://myspace.com/thelionsrampant">THE LIONS RAMPANT</a> *plug* gave me this awesome t-shirt but only had a men's medium left in black. I really wanted to wear it but it was way too big on me. </div><br /><div></div><div>I started out by cutting off the bottom so it was just below my waist. You know, normal length. I wore it out once like that and my friend Josh said it was a little Seattle circa 1993, and I have to agree.</div><br /><div></div><div>So I (probably didn't) invented the Rock 'N Roll tank top, which I have since used on another shirt and it turned out even better. (My camp shirt from 6th grade! Who keeps that crap? Me!)</div><br /><div></div><div>So here's how you do this.<br /></div><ul><li>Cut the bottom off to where it's comfortable for you. I'm not interested in a belly shirt but if you are, go for it. Don't worry about hemming the bottom because this is rock 'n roll.</li><br /><li>Use a seam ripper to rip off the sleeves and collar. Looks cooler this way. Just do it.</li><br /><li>Turn the shirt inside out and lay it down flat. Get another tank top that fits you pretty well and lay it on top of the shirt, centered. Use it as a guide for how wide you want your tank top to be. </li><br /><li>Use straight pins to pin up each side where you want to bring the fabric in so it's the same size as the tank top that already fits you. Cut off the excess fabric close to the pins. </li><br /><li>Use a <a href="http://www.matrices.net/fursuit/whipstitch.gif">whipstitch</a> to close up each side of the tank top. Be careful not to sew up the arm holes and make sure it's about even on both sides.</li></ul><br /><p>There you have it, one sweet tank top. Should look about this awesome when you're done:</p><br /><p></p><p></p><div></div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340991697796373586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 234px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0CMSC9lDWHjZNcEs_aO9DxTE49o-HOOyl3izg0899_XJs435cHeEU_Ia1gf1z8JWGvs-mSRt1BrRaSt8ywE1bs9RUGbaEQMBX8jSHUZZRbz4JbMcvYzG-_PfzuIjqVz6JiPbt4Fa15kM/s320/like+this.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><p></p><p>Hope you're enjoying your summer as much as I am so far, y'all.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-62260552229032376902009-03-18T21:28:00.003-04:002009-03-18T21:37:56.211-04:00When Will it End?Lately, my friends and I have been talking a lot about how great our lives are, and it's true. Most of the people I spend time with are hilarious, kind, creative types who love to drink and dance and see live music. This is what keeps us connected. Most of my friends are not in serious long-term relationships, and most of the ones that are sort of drifted away into domestication while I continued to party in spite of my marital status. We don't have any kids or any dreams of having kids anytime soon. My husband and I love living our lives for ourselves (and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">each other</span>) right now and just can't <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">imagine</span> what life would be like if we couldn't come and go as we pleased.<br /><br />A friend of mine sent me a link to a blog today, simply saying "look at this prettiest <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">prego</span> lady ever". We went on and on about how beautiful this girl is and we glanced <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">through</span> the entries, looking at pictures from the blog. This blog is about one man, gorgeous <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">preggo</span> lady's husband, and the birth of his first biological child. I decided to go back to the first entry and read it from the beginning, as I often do with blogs that interest me. I just read this post which I felt summed up things for me right now quite well and I think my friends can appreciate.<br /><br /><a href="http://pacingthepanicroom.blogspot.com/2008/10/difference-year-makes.html">Pacing the Panic Room</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-26590433848999344252009-03-16T14:09:00.007-04:002009-03-16T15:15:15.099-04:00How to Stay Classy and Fashionable - in This Economy!These are real life things, generally fueled by liquor, that my faceless friends and I have been rocking that were both free and fashionable. I'm callin' them Recessiories.<br /><div></div><br /><div>In the way of hats, we've got</div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioshNP9JERgO9_gmIubvyHxu0-SNVOubz8lQKFPWyFHWwln_1GXDWgUHpPqgWdukQ4mvLT3tr-f3ZUYZaxFbal-B2BXorvy6tc9o2rFbKZtObBNXF9nhr-9ER3u0pX_K5_dZoE9aL2PLI/s1600-h/top+hat.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859524784246178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioshNP9JERgO9_gmIubvyHxu0-SNVOubz8lQKFPWyFHWwln_1GXDWgUHpPqgWdukQ4mvLT3tr-f3ZUYZaxFbal-B2BXorvy6tc9o2rFbKZtObBNXF9nhr-9ER3u0pX_K5_dZoE9aL2PLI/s320/top+hat.jpg" border="0" /></a> The leftover from New Year's Eve top hat. Pictured here in cheapass plastic red.</div><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQQiQaPJ0PRcfy-_UlX6g1eLWmwAqvLGO5ogc-XqqVIzgoGf_lVhv7GzLzIJeGctdDQuAaJKALoA7Q02sOweHwTylKl9Q0VRU9VabOZf9WT3S5YYVst04QD5x2014ouO0rOQIayT6LyQ/s1600-h/tiny+bowler.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859526877618530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 283px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 191px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbQQiQaPJ0PRcfy-_UlX6g1eLWmwAqvLGO5ogc-XqqVIzgoGf_lVhv7GzLzIJeGctdDQuAaJKALoA7Q02sOweHwTylKl9Q0VRU9VabOZf9WT3S5YYVst04QD5x2014ouO0rOQIayT6LyQ/s320/tiny+bowler.jpg" border="0" /></a> Glued some bobby pins to the bottom of this tiny bowler, straight off the bottle of fancy gin.<br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859042251667650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 282px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 193px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbAC04s56T5mxHuPP9GcL1fUsTSi-0EVkP_4rM51E_OcEbA59nrwQk2wEvek_gI5QiHfx2JQhqOYVxMGA9B_WScrBJ_dx2kuylukvC8u6ryBKX3Oy7kf3A31TLwaT0o46quAZFga4a4G0/s320/chamhat.jpg" border="0" />The Chambord Cage Hat is really not recommended to be worn outside the kitchen. It's a little cumbersome and clumsy for partying, I'll admit.</div><div> </div></div><div></div><div></div><div>As far as jewelry goes, there's:<br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbzA-RTrpgWFu0_E0dSHqbW6sxqU61dnexdz2wNsDoMHPbHVPRwXy8_mi1xGBtuDFnXMdeVGjaV7-F_Bsl8UugdqaY9gXahnwJ0yyAdszmOc765QNUaWTJ7QJ8p8TOk7ZQecEBlrNpQY/s1600-h/solid+gold+pasta.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859524858365954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSbzA-RTrpgWFu0_E0dSHqbW6sxqU61dnexdz2wNsDoMHPbHVPRwXy8_mi1xGBtuDFnXMdeVGjaV7-F_Bsl8UugdqaY9gXahnwJ0yyAdszmOc765QNUaWTJ7QJ8p8TOk7ZQecEBlrNpQY/s320/solid+gold+pasta.jpg" border="0" /></a>While watching a Frank Zappa dvd with my buddy a while ago, I was inspired to make some wearable pasta jewelery. I think that's probably in the top 10 best sentences of this blog, so I won't elaborate. Anyway, I spray painted this pasta wheel for FE and the T-Rex for myself, strung 'em on a little black thread, took it to the dancefloor.</div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313862561648141794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWlWQ__xwiDtDjHo2vFNn7vatE4_cLacmi1evD0St5Dj_1xQ1ObGbMte_LyvAOvHUVKZXJLziNTRFQeY0OjtbUfWXVwCUVhpLE1SXBb-UPPU2KT-9H6BY035XuaaXL_nbVZH3BOHrJNyg/s320/macaronis.jpg" border="0" />The Chambord Cage Hat was dismantled and turned into, first, this nose ring.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859045748730354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 264px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 231px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW4On19ASNifNgBlE_fXgFDMqA4lhEkEDf9l0BiuqKxXzsRA_KvpxjawTkIrJysGf2ZHyoLMh8hBlchSp-m14QAqvDO_iT7JhWcAuiS5-psfUag52w3amEksDZZogmGPm_5Bjkn_YoDvw/s320/Chamnosering.jpg" border="0" /></div></div><div>Then into a bracelet. Unfortunately, the effect of alcoholic milkshakes (yeah, I'll give you some recipes later, delicious) made us forget to document the bracelet. I grabbed this from a video of me drunkenly singing the hit N'Sync single "Bye, Bye, Bye". That kinda night. I also lost this on the dance floor at some point.<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859037757461586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 291px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgchYu34VnjALnY1TzEJiuCrXyxTfFaxarvgFMuJTl41nZFsou5noLkhbv2AdEnAV8yIMx5jIbmzkziwAme2NHCfx9E8si3frqHaDDLMQZ56prB6VnV7DjI6HUwPonGcyRVLC2csTwG6zI/s320/Chambracelet.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div>Headbandswise:<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKp5598eF4RtuLCVigoMuAuNv0zI3JIDlZP-7aOKpG5V7T18zGh0Nuv7bf3R13wLgqqlyJe0iVYWBrwhtNAFUoJqDBJ-_Q4vFe3xMt9LGQk3VVddx_8i-FjJ19p8OfsQtreBNm5eXtZ8/s1600-h/rufio.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859520846261602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWKp5598eF4RtuLCVigoMuAuNv0zI3JIDlZP-7aOKpG5V7T18zGh0Nuv7bf3R13wLgqqlyJe0iVYWBrwhtNAFUoJqDBJ-_Q4vFe3xMt9LGQk3VVddx_8i-FjJ19p8OfsQtreBNm5eXtZ8/s320/rufio.jpg" border="0" /></a> Onea those Jager girls gave my friend here a lanyard which he promptly tied on his head and started chanting "Rufio! Rufio!" But it's actually sort of adorable, right?<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbzmQKJySqma5ljLKnSWmigQLaypJrfKtins4VEMXte3L9gzTJPQJ9-uiaIOrAX8S61UaCqw4Nregv1PL8J79LweXkIl4uX8h72HA6NOAtIAHNLbvejksv8krKoW2bA7eJReEV74zncc/s1600-h/recessionories.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859047028126690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixbzmQKJySqma5ljLKnSWmigQLaypJrfKtins4VEMXte3L9gzTJPQJ9-uiaIOrAX8S61UaCqw4Nregv1PL8J79LweXkIl4uX8h72HA6NOAtIAHNLbvejksv8krKoW2bA7eJReEV74zncc/s320/recessionories.jpg" border="0" /></a> My ladyfriend, pictured here in a drunk sandwich, had a rooftop grill out featuring pipe cleaner headbands with feathers. One of these girls wore the pipe cleaner headband all night at the bar...and for once, it wasn't me. (I thought it was kind of competing with the awesomeness of my Michael Jackson belt buckle, but I digress) </div><div> </div><div><br /> </div><div></div><div>And finally, we've come to my favorite item, the Chambelt™. This is what became of the Chambord cage after being cut apart. I put it on as a joke and ended up walking to the bar with it and wearing it all night, even receiving complements. It has that bonus heavyweight champion vibe, which I really enjoy, while also being classy at a glance but still overall liquor-related.<br /><br /><div><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEzmy1P3kvgTPRmAwLFLp3FltM3aIXRQTysEYrpJTPnOd9azo_q0c_cHRlUIWnxkAOU-sUvanLCuMjbFa7u7uNkbufYrxpQcbqY-dkj1JxOquwP6N2AIu2-1jJOJ-QSO4QOpT7gZFcZgk/s1600-h/Chambelt+(2).jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5313859037912800258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 212px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 273px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEzmy1P3kvgTPRmAwLFLp3FltM3aIXRQTysEYrpJTPnOd9azo_q0c_cHRlUIWnxkAOU-sUvanLCuMjbFa7u7uNkbufYrxpQcbqY-dkj1JxOquwP6N2AIu2-1jJOJ-QSO4QOpT7gZFcZgk/s320/Chambelt+(2).jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-41771025199294330952009-03-15T12:51:00.001-04:002009-03-15T12:51:35.433-04:00Just a Couple New Band Name Ideas For YouMardi Gras in Buffalo<br /><br />Overnight BunionsUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-2201219432328857242009-03-02T18:25:00.020-05:002009-03-03T00:11:48.834-05:00By Request: Diet Tips from RB<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCI-tUfBYSmU1l-ukaqYvQK0Se507ovOJC8-JCB6kl_4h9_yTuoQpfl25Wrd0mZiRY-HUQO-jDiVwTlIO-3zlhrJJhuKfe26sV3ZBl8QzBjryfSuAs1gKl3Y4IKhLcaWy_rIhN9WQxi70/s1600-h/TESOW.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308743259444242306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCI-tUfBYSmU1l-ukaqYvQK0Se507ovOJC8-JCB6kl_4h9_yTuoQpfl25Wrd0mZiRY-HUQO-jDiVwTlIO-3zlhrJJhuKfe26sV3ZBl8QzBjryfSuAs1gKl3Y4IKhLcaWy_rIhN9WQxi70/s200/TESOW.jpg" border="0" /></a>Here’s how I’ve been living my life through the end of winter. Funds are getting kind of depleted from a long winter of slow house sales, and things are just now starting to pick up again with the warmth of spring around the corner. I know lots of people are going through some times…I’m no economist, but I know apocalyptic news stories when I see ‘em!<br /><div><br />Here are my tried and true methods of surviving the tough times!</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>First off, don’t pass up any free professional events. I signed up for a professional seminar that was being held by my broker. I had to get up at 8am, which is a total bummer, but there was free pizza and soda for lunch. They got 40 pizzas for about 50 people, so I didn’t feel bad at all when I gorged myself. Somebody had to eat it, right? And stuff like this happens pretty frequently in real estate. Awards banquets, weekly meetings, open houses, they all have at least free coffee but often times all kinds of awesome free food and drink. If you go to one of those super classy open houses in a downtown loft or something they often even have free booze. The only problem with these events, which is why I don’t subscribe to this plan as much as I should, is that you have to actually socialize with co-workers and other agents. Being 25 in the real estate field, that’s about as fun as a Friday afternoon at Bob Evan’s. I think the same goes for most social events like art openings, usually free food and booze but often times the crowd leaves much to be desired. You gotta weigh the good with the bad though!</div><br /><div><br />I find it most economical and novel to eat foods that are either meant as side dishes and/or childhood foods. Stuff like macaroni, tater tots, pizza rolls, and cereal are relatively cheap (so long as you’re buyin’ generic) and remind you of childhood and college in ways that make you all warm and fuzzy inside. Side dishes like rice and mashed potatoes are filling and cheap and provide as much calories as a meal if you eat the whole package. Mashed potatoes can also be more delicious with the addition of cheese and bacon if you happen to come into a windfall. Ramen noodles also get extra tasty if you take the packet it comes with, throw it in the garbage, and add parmesan, garlic, and Italian seasoning. Ayerwelcome. Childhood foods like fruit roll-ups, fruit snacks, cheese and/or peanut butter crackers, often come in small packages which is cool if you commit yourself to only eating one. Completely fun to eat if you’re easily amused, like myself. It all costs less than going to Skyline with everyone else for after-bar food. </div><br /><div><br />I'll just put this one out there; stop smoking so much weed, hippie. </div><br /><div><br />Crackers and water: not just for anorexics anymore. Eating a sleeve of crackers provides that convenient “I ate the whole thing” shame, only about 450 calories (depending on the type) and drinking water with them makes them swell up in your stomach. It’s pretty much perfect. I do it all the time! I’m doing it RIGHT NOW!</div><br /><div><br />Get really involved in some sort of emotional turmoil to the point where you’re just sick over it and can’t eat. Whether it’s a new relationship, a big argument, getting fired, losing a loved one. Whatever it is, wallow and obsess! The pounds shall melt away! This works particularly well after a shame-filled Saturday night.</div><br /><div><br />Stop being such an ungrateful dick and visit your family once in a while. I don’t know about you, but my mom practically force feeds me. The bigger your family is, the more opportunity there is for free food. You’re totally lucky if your parents divorced, in this case.<br /><br />Acquire an insatiable roommate/boyfriend/girlfriend/couch surfer and never EVER write your name on anything, including leftovers. They will eat your food, which will keep you looking slim, and you might be able to convince them to replace it for something more expensive and delicious, like money in your pocket!</div><br /><div><br />Abstain from working out, playing sports, or anything manual labor-wise. It just burns calories, which means you have to eat again. Don’t be a fool, dude.<br /><br />If your friends ever ask you to volunteer to do something, do it. Usually they feel guilty enough for making you do something without pay that they will pay you in food and booze. This has worked for me in the way of being designated driver, helping someone shoot a music video (seriously, pizza and beer for dancing in front of a camera? I would have ASKED you to do that.), and theoretically I could have had some pizza and beer for helping friends move but I’m useless when it comes to lifting things. Also, that enters the arena of manual labor.<br /><br />Lately there have been tons of coupons floating around the internet. I've ended up eating at T.G.I. Friday's and Ruby Tuesday's as a result. There's no shame in buy one get one free.</div><div><br />If you aren’t getting any thinner, start spending your money on other stuff like clothes. That’ll force you to figure this out.<br /><br />I would add 'take up smoking', but depending on where you live and how fast you take to it, you could probably end up spending more on smokes than on food.<br /><br />Lastly, THE most important rule to remember, if you forget all of the rest: If you are hungry, drink. I’m not talking about 8 glasses of water. I’m talking about, have a good friend lift you up for a boxed wine stand. Murder a bottle of Andre Champagne, the only ‘champagne’ too classy not to drink straight from the bottle (only $5.99 here!). Or the obvious choice, buy a 12 pack of PBR. It provides the calories and fills you up, and sometimes if you’re lucky there’s bonus vomiting at the end!</div><br /><div><br />*This diet is in no way healthy, and you might die.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-2189394918196869792009-03-01T03:17:00.002-05:002009-03-01T03:20:34.054-05:00Tonight I went to a bar I'm constantly going to (tonight makes 3 nights in a row, if that's any indication) and by accident saw this guy Levi Weaver play. I really really enjoyed what I saw of his set and meant it when I said I wish I had cash to buy a cd. He had a credit card machine but OBVIOUSLY that credit card was busy being an open tab at the bar. I looked him up on the internets and came across this adorable video that I wanted to share with you.<br /><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LAgSOwkTKkI&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LAgSOwkTKkI&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-455730248051754312009-02-14T12:29:00.004-05:002009-02-14T12:34:12.332-05:00Happy Valentine's Day<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssJUjLch2Q7KnTxIl6QFUisUQDq_67m2qdoqRhL1uzh17mZWy2oNolLYCdew9bcjgu20vt0-O8M8xoAov_MuA9ICr2pIWMUaNvKnk7-hgP9BCxTm45RE6UPlBU_GbTYVOozSk8LbS2Og/s1600-h/CIMG0175.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302707526040335346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssJUjLch2Q7KnTxIl6QFUisUQDq_67m2qdoqRhL1uzh17mZWy2oNolLYCdew9bcjgu20vt0-O8M8xoAov_MuA9ICr2pIWMUaNvKnk7-hgP9BCxTm45RE6UPlBU_GbTYVOozSk8LbS2Og/s320/CIMG0175.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div>Today I made some vaguely heart-shaped pancakes, a heart shaped egg, and heart shaped <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">biscuits</span> for the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">mr</span>. for breakfast. We may be cheap, but that doesn't mean a heart shaped <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">biscuit</span> doesn't bring us a little joy!</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302707532517490242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN9BMOYIk0-EWu1NA6uLkzu3IYauD5GxY6egId49K2TaQzbbIU3sgpvCjpMG6jr5pkYgP-AH9aQMonXrIw2CW1IuS9pNp1VZJSkkH0oXidEhWz50iBMwnzUVP13u6jn16JOnn-J-xspzA/s320/CIMG0179.JPG" border="0" /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-77535389695105632152009-02-09T18:44:00.003-05:002009-02-09T18:58:09.987-05:00Epicly Later'dSo this girl I know, <a href="http://www.blogger.com/profile/00751990606798986169">Stacey,</a> who doesn't have a cool blog nickname, told me about this site, <a href="http://epicalylaterd.com/">epicalylaterd.com</a>. It's basically this guy, Patrick, posting pictures of what he does with his days. A lot of it is traveling around with skating buddies and going to bars. I don't know anything about skateboarding or these people, but I'm really intrigued by it. Come to think of it, I don't think Stacey does either. Maybe we just have a soft spot in our heart for crazy dirty skater boys and their daily adventures? Maybe the voyeurism in our hearts doesn't discriminate? I guess it's also kind of interesting that he is from Ohio and lives in NYC, as I am also from Ohio and just have a lot of love for NYC. I started with entry 1 in 2004 and am working my way through every entry through the most recent one. (I'm midway through 2005 right now, if you were wondering) Today I came across this video of Kevin 'Spanky' Long talking about his New Year's Resolution from a few years ago. It was "To give up all things boring". I bet that would be awesome...and a lot harder than it sounds. But seriously, that's my kind of dude.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><embed name="flashObj" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=" src="http://services.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/452319916" width="392" height="270" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashvars="videoId=525667825&playerId=452319916&viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://services.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&domain=embed&autoStart=false&" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" seamlesstabbing="false" swliveconnect="true"></embed></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-88383869494264169052009-02-04T17:03:00.003-05:002009-02-04T18:59:52.561-05:00Tween Fanfic: Sort of Embarssing, Also HilariousProbably about a year ago, I was introduced to a hilarious piece of writing on <a href="http://www.mcsweeneys.net/">McSweeny's</a> that I had never seen before. It's written as a piece of Ashton Kutcher fan fiction in the voice of a 13 year old girl, (but actually written by <a href="http://teddywayne.com/">Teddy Wayne</a>) and it puts me in stitches every time I read it. If you haven't read it, do so <a href="http://www.mcsweeneys.net/2008/2/7wayne.html">here.</a><br /><br />Today, while idly chatting with a friend she suggested that I write my own. I'm not ashamed to admit that I wrote an endless amount of crappy poetry, short stories, and diary entries from age 11 on and this is inspired by all of those things, along with Teddy's hilarious writing. I hope you enjoy...now, 4 hours later, I give you:<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;">I Know That It's True</span></strong><br /><br />Not much happens in Springdale, Ohio. It’s pretty close to downtown Cincinnati, but not really close enough that your parents would drive you down there more than like 2 times a year for a Reds game or Oktoberfest something. Sometimes they might go to the zoo as well. The Cincinnati Zoo is actually one of the best in the nation.<br /><br />Jade Darling spent most of her 12 years on the planet in Springdale and for a long time she had really liked Lance Bass of the popular boy band N*SYNC. He had a long face, without being horselike, with bright green eyes and spikey blonde hair with frosted tips. None of the guys at PJHS (Princeton Junior High School) could ever compare to him. Even though she had had a few boyfriends before, they turned out to be losers. One of them wouldn’t even meet her at her locker after class so she dumped him, even though a lot of people said that he dumped her in homeroom.<br /><br />Jade always ate lunch at the cool table. Her best friend Theresa sat next to her and the other popular girls like Lindsay, Ali, the two Jessicas, and Jenny, sat around them. One day at lunch, Jade turned to Theresa and said:<br /><br />“Wouldn’t it be phat if I actually got to meet Lance?” she asked.<br /><br />“How would that ever happen, girl?” Theresa inquired, pulling at the scrunchie she always wore on her right wrist. (She was left-handed)<br /><br />“The concert is coming up on Saturday”, Jade fired back. “I bet I could wait around by the tour bus to meet him. We would get along really well. I heard that he is into space too! Also, my family is from Hattiesburg, Mississippi and he is from Laurel. We have a lot in common actually.”<br /><br />“I don’t know, Jade. Famous guys get to meet a lot of girls.” she doubted. “I don’t want to see you get hurt like you were with never getting a letter back from Jordan Catalano.”<br /><br />It really stung Jade that her BFF would say that. A year ago to the day, Jade had written Jared Leto a letter. He played Jordan Catalano in the hit television series “My So-Called Life” which only lasted for one season, unfortunately. Since MSCL had gone off the air it was hard to find a fan mail address. He had never written her back, even though Jade spent a lot of time on the letter and it was a full 2 pages typed double spaced in 10 point font.<br /><br />The rest of Jade’s school day was pretty boring. She was happy that it was Friday night because her and Theresa could go to the mall and get new outfits at Contempo Casuals for Saturday’s concert. When she got off the bus her mom was waiting for her by the door.<br /><br />“Jade, this came in the mail for you this afternoon.” she said sing-songingly. “It looks pretty important because it is in a big envelope and says DO NOT BEND”.<br /><br />She was right. The vanilla envelope had big red letters stamped on it and it was sent from L.A., California. Jade took it straight up to her room without even eating her snack of Milano cookies and Sparkling Cider that she usually ate after school.<br /><br />END PART 1<br />TO BE CONTINUED…<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Jade opened that little metal thing on the top very slow and deliberately. She pulled out the 8x10 glossy photo of Jared Leto in a very hot pose. Written on the photo was:<br /><br />Jade,<br />I am sorry that it took me so long to write you back. I have been working on a movie with Josh Jackson called Urban Legend. You are a very pretty girl judging from the 5x7 school photo that you sent and your boyfriend Reggie is very lucky to have you.<br /><br />Love,<br />Jared Leto<br /><br />Jade felt confused. On one hand, she was totally siked that Jared had finally written her back! She knew that he wasn’t just ignoring her because he was working on a really big movie that would turn out to be one of Jade’s faves. But Jared had mentioned her ex, Reggie in the letter. Jade had recalled with scorn that she had written about him in her letter to Jared because they were going together at the time. What a dumb idea that was! She hoped that one day she would be able to meet Jared and explain the situation. Jade told Theresa about her problems at the mall that night and Theresa made her feel alot better.<br /><br />Jade’s mom told the girls she would pick them up that night from the mall at 9, when it closed. Jade’s beeper kept going off at 7, but the music was so loud in Contempo that she didn’t notice that her mom had paged her until she saw her standing by the huge glass doors with her face all red. “Where have you guys been!?” she yelled to them. “We were trying on clothes Mom,” Jade replied embarrassedly. “You were supposed to meet me here at 7!” she said, obviously confused that she had told Jade 9 earlier. “You are grounded from seeing N*SYNC tomorrow!” she shouted so everyone at the Cinnabon could hear.<br /><br />That night Jade spent like 15 minutes trying to get in the Cincinnati 1 AOL chatroom where all of her friends were and spent hours talking to her friends and asking them for advice for how to get to the concert. No one had any good ideas and when she finally laid down on her bed it came to her. She would tell her mom she was going to the library to study!<br /><br />The next night Jade told her mom that she had a big test in chemistry coming up on Monday and Theresa’s mom was going to pick her up to take her to the library. Her mom didn’t think twice about letter her go to the library! It was even warm enough on Saturday for Jade to wear her favorite spring dress to the concert. It was a halter which Jade was just recently aloud to start wearing. She wore a jacket, though, so she could hide the N*SYNC temporary tattoos she had strategically placed on her shoulder blades and she left the coat in Theresa’s mom’s car.<br /><br />When they arrived at the First Star Arena, the guy taking their tickets was a lot younger then they expected, but still older at 16.<br /><br />“You girls are probably the cutest ones I have seen since I have been working here this year. Those temporary tattoos are pretty pimp, and I like your dresses.” He flirted.<br /><br />The girls tossed their hair confidently as they spoke to Jake, the ticket taking guy. Theresa’s mom had let them use her hot rollers and they both had perfect long curls that looked natural and weren’t all crunchy from too much hair spray. “We think you are cute too,” Jade said convincingly, even though he was just okay.<br /><br />“I have some extra back stage passes,” Jake whispered. “I was going to give them to my sister but I want you to have them and have a good time. This security guy will escort you back.”<br /><br /><br />END PART 2<br />TO BE CONTINUED…<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />The jock security man in the yellow shirt that said “STAFF” and black cargo shorts took them to a very secluded area of the arena, down to the stage.<br /><br />“Okay young ladies,” he barked “you can’t go past the wings. Do not go into the door over there either. Just stay here or you will be in big trouble.”<br /><br />Jade and Theresa nodded their heads. They did not want to get in trouble for snooping and were amped that they would get to watch the whole show from the wings! Jade knew what wings were from her experience with drama club and explained to Theresa that it meant the sides of the stage where the curtains are and stuff.<br /><br />After a while Jade wanted to be a rebel and go into the door with the star on it that said N*SYNC on it. Theresa was worried that they would get in trouble, but Jade was always getting away with doing things like that such as cutting school and skipping showers after gym.<br /><br />They opened the door to the room and there were 5 mirrors with lightbulbs around them. Jade noticed a jean jacket with Lance’s name Bedazzled on the back and lifted it up to see it.<br /><br />“OMG this is Lance’s stage jacket!” she whispered quietly to Theresa, who was looking at Justin’s bandana collection.<br /><br />Theresa seemed to be in a daze. “Justin is so cute, rite?” she sighed, not even paying attention that all 5 of the band members were walking into the door.<br />They were both quiet and didn’t know what to say because they knew they were busted. Lance had a Bud Light beer in his hand and took the last drink and asked:<br /><br />“What are you girls doing in our dressing room?”<br /><br />Jade thought fast. “Oh, we were on our way to the ladies’ room and got lost. We were just using your mirrors to touch up our makeup. Our bads.”<br /><br />“Well, since you guys are in here,” Justin bellowed “why don’t you play spin the bottle with us?” He took the bottle out of Lance’s hand.<br /><br />“Well, we were going to play at a party tonight but I guess we can play now,” said Theresa to the curly-haired lead vocalist.<br /><br />They all sat down in a circle on the dressing room floor. Jade started to regret her decision of not wearing the jacket she had left in Theresa’s mom’s car and it showed. Lance noticed her shiver and said “Do you want to wear my jacket?”, sweetly. Jade nodded her head nervously as he placed the very expensive denim jacket with rhinestone letters over her shoulders.<br /><br />Justin took the first spin and it landed on Theresa. Theresa said “Hey guys, I still have to go to the bathroom first, can you show me where it is?” They showed her where it was and Jade followed her in because she could tell that Theresa was trippin.<br /><br />“Theresa, why don’t you kiss Justin? He is really cute and seems pretty cool. I usually skip over his parts in interviews but from what I’ve read he’s really nice and he’s single.” Jade reassured Theresa. She looked right into her eyes when she said, “This is your chance to show all of the 8th graders that you’re not a freezer.”<br /><br />“You’re right,” Theresa realized. “Let’s go back to the game!”<br /><br />When they returned to the circle the boys were sitting there waiting. Theresa kissed Justin and they started holding hands. Then it was Lance’s turn to spin. The bottle landed on Jade! Lance brushed Jade’s hair aside and kissed her softly on the lips. As soon as they were done making out, a guy opened the door to the dressing room and said “Hey, you guys have to get on stage!” Jade began to slip Lance’s jean jacket off of her tanned shoulders and he said “No, you can keep it. I get hot on stage anyway.”<br /><br />Theresa and Jade stood in the wings on stage right for the whole show and watched their new boyfriends perform. The very last song that they played was “(God Must Have Spent) A Little More Time on You”. During the line “And you changed my world with just one kiss” Jade could feel herself tearing up because she was so happy. At that moment, Lance brought her on stage and told her in front of everyone that he loved her! Jade could see Reggie in the nosebleeds with his new girlfriend and they both looked really jealous.<br /><br />After the show, the guys changed into their normal clothes while Theresa and Jade waited in another dressing room. They seemed to be taking a really long time and they started getting worried that they were going to be ditched. Soon Lance and Justin came in. Lance looked very sexy in a pair of slightly oversized light blue overalls with a hole in the left knee that was there on purpose and a tight white t-shirt underneath. Justin wore a shell necklace with a short stop tee and jeans that fit him very well and they both looked really casual but still hot. Right behind them, in walked Jade and Theresa’s moms. Jade’s heart sank. She knew that her mom was going to be really pissed that she didn’t go to the library because she was grounded. Theresa’s mom came to pick them up and the guys had called Jade’s mom to come to the arena too so they could talk in person. Lance could see the panic on Jade’s face and put his arm around her and squeezed her shoulder caringly.<br /><br />Theresa’s mom started “Jade, Theresa, Mrs. Darling and I have been talking to your boyfriends after their concert and have come to a decision.” Jade thought that her mom was probably going to send her to boarding school after all of the rebelling she had done.<br />Jade’s mom said, “I can see how much you love Lance so you are not in trouble for lying to me this time. We are going to let you get homeschooled by a tutor on their tour bus for the rest of their international tour. You guys have to get good grades, though, and you still have a curfew of 11pm. We’re going to call once a week to check on you and you better be behaving!” The two girls were stoked and hugged their moms, even though they didn’t do it very much. Their moms knew that this tour was going to be the bomb for both of them and it was really cool that they were aloud to go. Then they embraced their boyfriends who were both beaming. It was going to kind of suck to be away from their friends the school year plus summer, but they knew they were growing up and had to spread their wings and fly.<br /><br />THE ENDUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-68991911910279347102009-01-29T14:27:00.001-05:002009-01-29T14:28:27.619-05:00I Think It's a Good Omen<div>At least I hope it is!</div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296799661748922658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD-qmQdggLJ3zOF0eaI2UPNiW5h7bR4CQT3WNSpbO7SpD3GhM2QbYV44C6Jf7dYeUKlFVVfICVGj3XaI5pk1KRqMBpl49q3biZpeFgdnVSdXYuIsc9BzvfJnKzcIAA5Lry4C2cAxSgzTk/s320/egg+twins.jpg" border="0" /><a href="http://somethingontheburner.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-french-toast.html">Another</a> set of egg twins!<br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-88182631227614912052009-01-29T11:42:00.006-05:002009-01-29T11:49:20.855-05:00An Open Letter to Rachel RayDear Rachel Ray,<br /><br />I was at Bed, Bath, and Beyond yesterday and I noticed that you've created your own line of garbage bowls which are selling for $15. I'm not sure why anyone would buy a bowl specifically to put garbage in, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">especially</span> for $15. It seems like the kind of thing best reserved for an old mixing bowl or something from the dollar store, don't you think? The bigger question, though, is...was there a reason you thought it should look like the inside of my toilet on new year's eve?<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296757903599461314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 280px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 280px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfza84sU1UMJc6r0LlgX_JZdUR2rmBbZ_7M6L3Kg1nNSbn064Db2bLNX6YFQqtRufTnNY2FJS17b2c0qGyaYmevlHh9leVXoEFd6Ihy06Zwhvs1V7S-d6b5elyPitsgXufJWG42RIXHCQ/s320/garbage+bowl.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">Yours,</div><div align="left">Rex</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-84976556129745899032009-01-27T17:02:00.008-05:002009-01-29T11:56:47.340-05:00And In Case You Think Winter is as Lame as I doAbout 4 years ago, I’d say I had a minor nervous breakdown. I was graduating from college and I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">didn</span>’t know where I wanted to go or who I wanted to be at all. I was passionate about design, but I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">didn</span>’t see how it was going to fit into my future. I was pretty freaked out about never setting foot in a classroom again. I no longer had the stability of knowing that 5 days a week I’d be taking notes, reading books, asking questions, and hearing lectures. It was cold and snow dusted the parking lot as I left on my last day, and even though I thought the glisten of the snow at dusk was actually really lovely, I truthfully find winter to be quite the bummer. I think it might be the worst around the coming end of February, when the end is so close but spring just won’t quite come fast enough. There’s usually at least one day where I end up wearing a dress and sandals in 60 degrees because I’m so desperate for some warm weather.<br /><br />My professor, who taught no less than 3 of my classes at the small college I attended and was one of the most caring and attentive people I knew, gave me a ton of good advice when I left. What has stuck with me was his suggestion to appreciate the beauty of small things and to find good in everything, even when it all seems to be going wrong. I try every day to consciously appreciate something that is happening to me or around me to keep myself content through the boring winter days. I hardly have a problem doing that any other time of year, but right now it’s definitely the time of year to be making that conscious effort. In that spirit, here’s a list of some my little joys from this winter.<br /><br /><br />There are two places in my house where the sun shines directly into my windows during the day. One spot is in the kitchen, the other in the upstairs hallway between the bedrooms and bathroom. Pretty much every day at least one of my 3 dogs seeks it out and sits or sleeps contently in the warmth. It’s one of many precious things they do.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296097665537728994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrj-LxroYhvyeEA7KmXbK_ukkSlzq-E0a0B2RsfTSqCoOAE0B0R1G8fguZpg7Kow_bNfCmFyvCUWVKobtxgG1Can3T_QLPhknPTxftdpp9yEI-nL9gH-4_1Uc6zNrajrj-m6diOH1LZSM/s320/that+boy.jpg" border="0" /><br />When I was out of town 2 weekends ago, the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">mr</span>. took out our incredibly stupid shower door and replaced it with a shower curtain rod. You’d be surprised how much happier that little change makes every trip to the bathroom.<br /><br />I was at one of my listings checking on it after a windstorm this fall (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ok</span>, so I cheated a little <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">because</span> it wasn't this winter) and I came across what looked like a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">horrific</span> Barbie crime scene and it made me laugh out loud. Maybe that's twisted?<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296097655767275506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLsUotC7xtP0HtNPgAWIS4A7B9pgOsLXVgNKGutWCwoNMsyumxX3Ub2pdedXeOXN3oy4_pTop_yh6dJ77c2r3p_5aEI8CyLHuYBh9PP7qI56efGRRAH0WG7GZvd4I3tglUwPk2nKiRfyM/s320/barbie+crime+scene.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Clean bed sheets. They might be annoying to wash and have to put back on, but the payoff is always worth it.<br /><br />They're not very good for you, but you cannot be bummed out while eating smiley fries.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296097671911314098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 180px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1LYqn1_p8DDTNNDucYf9HMFyQKnjm3Ptw7R7vEpJrMmUOGkdvU2C52LrZHPAYL0sBZFn-Y4AXVi0aohKlwaMasVU-ujtnxcGQUQCkpLMQ2o6iM7WZDXrVdQmWo9vebvJ9-a2lY_FhtE/s320/smiley+fries.jpg" border="0" /><br />Caffeine. Very little in the world makes me feel better than a can of sugar-free <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Rockstar</span> in the morning.<br /><br />Convincing friends to drink things out of ridiculous glassware. I.e. whiskey in a wine glass.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296097785775983490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 161px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LVR_ktVuM2xEKPhoO7rZxqXykRsQVOHvq1fl5STnnoxC6UoV3ERN9uKyzcV-HCJwuBkeM0Xrj0JL1aWByKYFHw8yPqTKbdhyphenhyphenbRcDaZcgmI0sPbrVezrfr2j2O_Z0uX2O1nMYqJKzyuc/s320/whiskey+out+of+a+wine+glass.jpg" border="0" /><br />I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">hadn</span>’t had a fruit roll-up since I was probably…I don’t know…11, until I had one last week. It’s so strange and comforting the way it makes me feel 6 years old again to eat one.<br /><br />A friend of mine works at the tea house right around the corner. I’m not really a tea person at all, but on rare occasion a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">caramel</span> apple tea cider is an awesome treat.<br /><br />Listening to one of my favorite songs over and over again always makes me a little happier. I got stuck on The Killer's cover of "Romeo and Juliet" (originally a Dire Straits song) for a while this winter.<br /><br />I'm <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">fortunate</span> to live near both the <a href="http://www.jeeeb.us/">giant Jesus</a> and this ridiculous car dealership and it always amuses me to drive by either one.<br /><br /><div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz83ucJoT5Us5cptkvlalTRNGv4dN6-EDHq0ELWMmtbqBtznw_b5mYJMww_dnJH_zuN3PzJoD1IsXGF_r_vLd9Aevpo9aX5XMTVXYhx7JVA90Pjz5P8S10DxWq-lLQBjCGlQKyUciWwRg/s1600-h/giant+indian.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296097662475740578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz83ucJoT5Us5cptkvlalTRNGv4dN6-EDHq0ELWMmtbqBtznw_b5mYJMww_dnJH_zuN3PzJoD1IsXGF_r_vLd9Aevpo9aX5XMTVXYhx7JVA90Pjz5P8S10DxWq-lLQBjCGlQKyUciWwRg/s320/giant+indian.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-90420437796797939072009-01-27T14:03:00.006-05:002009-01-27T14:32:40.420-05:00Another Snow DayWhere I live, every time it snows the entire <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">tri</span>-state area is talking about it non-stop. The news is basically covering every flake live on the mean streets of the suburbs. Everyone is talking about how it snowed more or less than they expected, the incompetency of weathermen, the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">probability</span> of further snow days or early dismissal, and a heck of a lot of people are talking about how amazed they are that it's 'just snow' and where they come from people drive in a lot worse conditions a lot more often. I guess because we're in a small group of people that usually only get one or two big snows a year we have a special freak-out niche.<br /><br />I now present to you, the top 12 things to do on a snow day:<br /><br />12. Spend a ton of money that you don't have online. Might I suggest checking out <a href="http://modcloth.com/"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Modcloth</span></a> or <a href="http://80spurple.com/">80s Purple</a>?<br /><br />11. Do something crafty, like knit a scarf for the next snow day. Extra <a href="http://somethingontheburner.blogspot.com/2009/01/rules-of-hipsterdom-part-2.html">hipster points</a> for you, too.<br /><br />10. Get yourself over to an empty parking lot and slide around in your car for a while. This activity is better with a bunch of friends. Particularly if one of those friends is attached to a rope and standing on a sled behind the car.<br /><br />9. Search your house for whatever <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">liquor</span> is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">available</span>. You'll probably end up with glasses of grape schnapps and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">kool</span>-aid or something, but, hey, drinking is drinking. Make a game out of the news casts. Every time they go live to someplace where <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">absolutely</span> nothing is happening, take a drink. Every time they cut back to the weatherman, take a drink. Make up your own rules...whatever happens it's going to be pretty easy to get drunk.<br /><br />8. Go sledding with a bunch of your friends in your bathing suits. It will be more hilarious for everyone involved and you won't feel like such a jerk when you're ready to go inside after 1 or 2 trips down the hill.<br /><br />7. Grab a gigantic pillow, take it on a trip down some carpeted stairs. This game is more fun after #9<br /><br />6. Make inappropriate snow men in a neighbor's yard. Complete with carrot <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">wieners</span>!<br /><br />5. Spend the entire day in your pajamas. You were going to do it anyway. I'm giving you permission.<br /><br />4. Watch one of those documentaries you may be skipping by on HBO or Showtime. I highly recommend Cat Dancers. It's SO weird/amazing.<br /><br />3. Make a fort. Office and dining table chairs, <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">blankets</span>, couch pillows, and broom sticks are all excellent supplies. After you make it, eat a meal inside it. Preferably something that goes well with fruit roll-ups.<br /><br />2. Watch the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">tv</span> shows that you don't get to see while you're at work. Plan to do it in morning or late afternoon though, because the news/soap opera time is pretty brutal.<br /><br />1. Order a pizza and make some jerk deliver your food. (Since all you have is condiments and side dishes anyway)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-48603051643210267672009-01-24T20:38:00.003-05:002009-01-24T20:41:57.339-05:00Your Feet are on FireI spent my Friday night at a bar I sometimes go to, a self-proclaimed dive. When I arrived, a bunch of my friends were on the dance floor already, hanging out. Before I even got a ‘hello’ out to everyone, one of them immediately said “WHITE IS LAVA!” and I jumped onto a black tile and followed them over to the other end of the group to talk. I didn’t think much of it and didn’t say much about it, at first, and continued on as normal with the group of 5 or 6 people, all standing on the black tiles alternately talking and dancing. For a bit we marveled as other friends came and went through the dance floor and all played along. Nothing was needed other than those 3 simple words and every one of them would instantly jump to a black tile. It’s kind of amazing the way some things are so universal and go unquestioned. I also think it’s kind of neat what experiences we don’t all share, like when F.E. brought up ‘the old wax paper and comb harmonica’ and no one else seemed to know what the hell that was about. So, one of you needs to start a new band called White is Lava and tell me how it goes.<br /><p><br />Here’s your first album cover, aaaaand you’re welcome.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295040433943295570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWWxGiD8-wVxLgTw9ElU4UnHBa1q-htUKsF6lqedugJ9fw7MWnylTm71Fe4H8VEhf1MrpUdrDoNTwjdAwzoo3aZ8VqUQDONLqPEoZInRz3gGUmS7_qNCNMWk0zy2QWIcN7yu7oM1JOSlY/s320/white+is+lava.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-79343959649377377192009-01-22T17:34:00.006-05:002009-01-22T17:47:11.123-05:00The Rules of Hipsterdom Part 2If you’re a lady, get involved in something artsy or craftsy. Whether it’s making plush, drawing, sewing things you end up never wearing, or knitting. You always get extra indie cred if you’re doing one of the aforementioned while taking advantage of public transportation. Nothing is hipper than a cute girl with a hand-made cap covering her choppy haircut, knitting a scarf on the subway.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294250726644527954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7789KoUnfUdTnHAmmh6XxmFzr-CxIhhOpTiyGYiO_qWlfchPIgXU_Z08rZ7CkUk5pnokENWl57UVLnBlLJFZB1sSO_YRZysPGftk5sqW8-E42yiU0LXfaPWvY8XX6T7Pt19ft_19Z0gQ/s320/snake+scarf.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:78%;"><a href="http://shanalogic.com/item.php?item_id=1907&manufacturer_id=61">This scarf available on shanalogic.com</a></span></div><br /><br />Complain every now and again about how Urban Outfitters steals..er…makes their own versions of designs from freelance artists and complain just as much that you HAVE to shop there because there is nowhere else to get any clothes you like in this stupid city. All the thrift stores that used to be good totally suck now. At least we finally got an American Apparel.<br /><br /><br />Support local businesses as much as possible and try working it into conversation. If you don’t have a lot of cool local businesses nearby, there’s always a coffee shop you can patronize instead of Starbucks. Even if it’s more expensive and their coffee sucks, at least you’re keeping the money in your cool urban neighborhood. The same applies for tea houses. There’s something so hip and refined about a quiet tea house with its walls lined with tins of fancy tea and it’s friendly and almost overly gentle staff in their horizontally striped sweaters with the sleeves pushed up. They always have some soft lovely music playing, such as Daniel Martin Moore, and it's a great place to refine your recently aquired hobby of drawing or whatever.<br /><br /><br /><object height="300" width="400"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2832406&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1"><embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2832406&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><br /><a href="http://vimeo.com/">Daniel Martin Moore - Stray Age</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/softcity">Soft City Lights</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br /><br /><br />Go to indie dance nights at the hipster bars and either get crazy-drunk or dance like a fool or stand in the back and watch (if you’re not the dancing type). Either way, it’s a good place to take notes on what everyone is wearing and who they’re hooking up with.<br /><br /><br /><br />At some point, it’s a good idea to start making your own music. Even if you’re not very good or you’re already in a band, it will be nice to get it out there anyway. All you really need to do is start a myspace. The pictures should generally be of anything other than you. A field, children holding hands, your feet, a stick of gum, someone’s puppy, whatever, it should just be vaguely anonymous, even though everyone already knows that it’s you. Under no circumstances should your solo music have your name anywhere in the title of it. It might confuse people at first, i.e. they may comment you “Is this Rex or is this Dinosaur Push Wagon? I’m confused.” Don’t respond. People will explain to the confused others that, duh, Rex and Dinosaur Push Wagon are one in the same.<br /><br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NgDuGWBPIw4&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NgDuGWBPIw4&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br /><br /><br />Like my friend Jacob, who also refers to himself as Caves.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-57115206370178723442009-01-20T14:20:00.004-05:002009-01-20T14:37:35.234-05:00The Rules of Hipsterdom Part 1Don’t be held down by other’s conventions of time, space, and blogging. If you want to blog once in the year of 2009 then blog 3 times every day in the last month of the year to make up for the rest of it, go for it. When writing, for example, a guide to hipsterdom, don’t worry about how many points you make or if you include everything. Write stuff as it comes to you, keep it ongoing, and you can change your mind. Clearly that’s the approach I’ve taken here. Sort of…let’s call it ¾-assed. So, in no particular order.<br /><br /><div align="left"><br />Wear unflattering glasses. Not the kind you had when you were a kid in elementary school and they had gold frames and just looked dumpy, but something SUPREMELY unflattering. Outrageously unflattering. Almost comical.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293458662183838226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 187px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 69px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZHiMe9V7MOPkqBa_RIOpPI16queIIyJqGibp7lWDI5odSQh1oj921aCZ20Gils_Y7OKUNeORgGTXq0RBw4PzIKjWoZbbj8adxNoHerOsAlZ7Tyj4jl4rB4uEahkkVfT0wxyLVJU6Vek/s400/bad+glasses.jpg" border="0" />Even if you don't actually need prescription glasses, they make them with clear lenses. If you're really committed to the cause.<br /><br /><br />Embrace novelty pants. You don’t necessarily have to wear them, although you get more points if you do. But complement other’s novelty pants and tell them you wish you had the balls to wear them. Novelty pants include, but are not limited to, colored jeans, stonewashed, animal print, and anything that makes you go “Whoooa…those are actually sort of awesome”.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293458664476717842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 124px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDuYnJbdfBkFV7eKPQsHhcI4QWrCnE-8gwQO-DOwPh2RDPzyrMOOLzQRQeB4iqBXCbqIAo9KsVdMLnevW9P6DCJtlA7sSBcTv0rXLGYOB4VeMkGRUCAiVJ64HxhbYpkd5-OHJCJvmwJE/s400/novelty+pants.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />Never ever wear stuff like this, though. You just can't wear it ironically because it’s too true to be ironic. But definitely laugh at it amongst peers.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293460278340104626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 369px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD1rLJ-XrinZjnyAfrJmi4WIT7U7nllpewYxUFj4zrEgvrOuqdVbjWML77YRKtpTwojxDSyjmGeI_I89601147J3xeNtSZ_BgDSovjpDFzjrpoUfqVpse2ugIzArS-m4bLWSm_bzXQcr4/s400/hipster+t.jpg" border="0" /> You can never ever admit to being a hipster, and if you're doing it right you probably don't want to. So even as you read this and identify with it, you still have to think “Yeah, but I’m not a hipster. I mean, I really like The Killers! No hipster loves The Killers!” …don’t they?<br /><br />Love, unconditionally, just about everything Obama does. Talk about it occasionally on Twitter or Facebook or Tumblr or something.<br /><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293461105256815362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA3049c6hgnA0NvbMfDQyN2kDcRSR-s-0bdf9qEqAsIrM3Dkc7UhCESNanvYELNzMWeUFIwhApiNnmAbXO1XzenethYn7ShBtTwJd4sisK1Skg6hgJ2pIOQGX5XXJ3dWD74Q4loN2Nc-M/s400/obamashirt.jpg" border="0" /><span style="font-size:78%;">This fantastic shirt available at </span><a href="http://chrisbishop.com/obama/"><span style="font-size:78%;">http://chrisbishop.com/obama/</span></a><span style="font-size:78%;"> and I totally want one.<br /></span><br /></p><p align="left"><br />Drinking 40s will always be ironic and timelessly hilarious. Though some will tell you that PBR is the official brand of hipsters, when it comes to 40s, they’re all amazing.</p><p align="left"><br />You can always wear a white belt, chuck taylors, and bandannas even though the ‘normal kids’ are doing it, as long as you scoff at them while they’re doing it. (Silently or overtly, it only matters what’s in your heart)</p><p align="left"><br />When choosing between the options “why the hell not?” and “that would be weird” always chose “why the hell not”.</p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293458665987361634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 251px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 284px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0Y0uuMtSrA5Xx4zf1eEBByHR4002zzNa_NjGmhQMSUrks0UIM9TyUSIv5HP7sHNYQqqQmJX-hkbeh7zSRZSo7zcUip-HOTfFLfNGpxsTKoO1sT0_lDAtPJJ0zYq-JXhmtxXx7neve9M/s400/choose+ridic.jpg" border="0" /><br />For example, rollerskating in full costume.<br /><br /><br />Do not ever type or say ‘huzzah!’. Ew.<br /><br /><br />If you don’t have your own band, at least be friends with a bunch of local indie bands. It’s the least you can do.<br /><br />Perhaps there will be more to come later!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-7152441585779721502009-01-02T15:41:00.003-05:002009-01-02T16:00:08.299-05:002009 Feels The Same!<div>I hope everyone had a great New Year's Eve. I spent it with almost every one of my best friends, watching a great band and dancing. I spread my love for 2009 off the edge of the fire escape, out the window of my car, and finally snuggled up next to my toilet. So much for moderation! The first day of the new year was spent on the couch and in bed watching the mr. play Bioshock on Xbox, avoiding work I should have done, and drinking lots of water.</div><br /><div>I'm feeling quite better today and doing my best to maintain a positive attitude and this new year. I started it off right with using my Olive Garden gift certificate....yeah, it's like a 15-20 minute drive to the nearest one, it's pretty much the cheesiest restaurant of all time, and there's only like 2 things on the menu I'll eat (other than those mysteriously delicious bread sticks and salad) but I didn't even consider complaining and ate my free mediocre food with a smile.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>But when you can't find any fun at Olive Garden, you've gotta make your own.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286802389583023218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPETSaaDYzQrZ8QeyqDRv66HXl3y0eNJCC6deWaNcicUi9qwOI1uPUYKTnkFdGCQCDoqc8dxLtRTRImbUTO-LRiW8KFtvag4SwQj8oak6AjVqr1lq-pDfIZovEKN566LvN334LslCdkoM/s400/CIMG0279.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-64800034821045383132008-12-30T13:09:00.002-05:002009-01-02T16:01:43.035-05:00New Year's Resolutions<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9ylvJq_6_yJ2utPl49rfYv0vf7HSzWCavlV7GFFkg0SO2OIT503NGky-yUtNaEWiNJfMXC4qc8oxVK_JFkKpn1zE4OqvZRA9W0piXeEjLuv87MsaAXMuquavKvI5cVdv50FbtlI9tnw/s1600-h/RIP+2008.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285647001519317138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 378px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9ylvJq_6_yJ2utPl49rfYv0vf7HSzWCavlV7GFFkg0SO2OIT503NGky-yUtNaEWiNJfMXC4qc8oxVK_JFkKpn1zE4OqvZRA9W0piXeEjLuv87MsaAXMuquavKvI5cVdv50FbtlI9tnw/s400/RIP+2008.jpg" border="0" /></a> As this year comes to a close, we’re all left thinking about how we spent it. There are some things we wish had happened differently, some things that still make us laugh to look back on, and some things we were too drunk to even remember but still cherish. I remember last New Year’s Eve well. My friends and I declared that 2008 would be the Year of Awesome. We did our best to make that happen. So many good things happened this year. I took road trips, spun records, celebrated birthdays, lost pounds, made beautiful new friends, became better friends, quit my job, got tattooed (again), visited New York, got my first brand new car, saw a ton of shows, took a week long cruise, danced to exhaustion, formed an amazing fake band, appreciated bottles of cheap champagne, elected a black president, and immortalized my friendship in a woven afghan. Sure, there were times that weren’t so awesome…a few times where liquor made me completely snap and loose my mind and say crazy things, relationships changed, feelings were hurt…but I’ve got to think that nothing completely awful happened to me. No car wrecks, no funerals to attend, no illness or broken bones, hung on to my house, hung on to the friends that matter, hung onto my sanity. 2008, overall, was one of the best years of my life. I feel like every year I’m a little wiser, a little more relaxed, and realize a bit more exactly what I’m looking for out of life.<br /><br />For 2009, I resolve to maintain that trend. Here are the things I want to do:<br /><br />Start writing in this blog again.<br /><br />Not hold back.<br /><br />Let people know how much I appreciate them every chance I have. You know, without getting creepy.<br /><br />Make careful decisions.<br /><br />Maintain minimal possessions. All a girl really needs is cute clothes anyway! THIS girl, at least.<br /><br />Dwell on the good stuff if I’ve gotta dwell on something.<br /><br />Do all the stuff I did in 2008 that was crazy-fun before I get too old for it.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-49752786965401241782008-11-06T15:35:00.004-05:002008-11-06T15:46:39.037-05:00At least use your windshield wipers, dudeOn a brisk fall day, just a couple of weeks ago, I was out for work. The temperatures dropped pretty low for us up here for a few evenings, so a lot of the birds are doing their thang and heading to warmer climates. I came across a car I'd seen months and months before and this time had to take a picture. <div><br />It was parked on a street that only had one tree near the actual pavement for many blocks. You can actually see it in the background of the photo. The car was parked in roughly the same spot last time...not exactly. So it had definitely been driven. I guess they could park it under some sort of berry tree at work...</div><br /><div>All I'm saying is that this person has clearly given up on life.</div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265648278478969778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 366px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyhvRr72pIIZrhDLnGgBP2k1ggJYBCAfg_q_6KLr7D7L-RZJXQRVvFJG-923uGRNUgQ2JW8V0VdbOH8VCboZ4bucQ38U5-LQGBvVbWwsfljuMyjdeIyGEvNkcomTcNn6JwgEV4ZZkLheY/s400/062+Edited.jpg" border="0" /></div><div></div><br /><p>Ewww.</p><br /><p><br /></p><br /><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-45801421061854281812008-11-06T14:43:00.001-05:002008-11-06T14:44:54.255-05:00Must be November 6th<div>Because this is the only candy left at the office.</div><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265632784667849186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 198px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrsI3YPkvR5L5PwvBa424XzLG4CM-ReygUj_UNcAmpSSj_i-KETGpFKsa1AoJjdC6aOdpScSsFSZxY0TRwdtI703RgstmZvrh7HcJ3ViJS_7KnJuLnNvmf4YyOBzlhVOCs3vfA-epe8T8/s320/067.jpg" border="0" /></p><div><br /></div><div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2636603095517654513.post-74006767616241624692008-10-02T12:02:00.002-04:002008-10-02T12:08:38.241-04:00Top 10 Reasons an Economic Crisis Actually Sort of Rules10. It will be a lot better for the environment when no one can afford to drive or power their houses.<br /><br />9. Everyone will remember what it's like to be in college again, when they had no money. (and getting drunk is still pretty cheap!)<br /><br />8. We have a LOT of guns!<br /><br />7. When the electricity is shut off, more fireside chats.<br /><br />6. When the phone is shut off, no more political phone calls or telemarketers.<br /><br />5. Time to read all the classic novels that I never wanted to when the cable is shut off.<br /><br />4. We'll all start to trim down with all of the walking and not-eating we'll be doing.<br /><br />3. Everything looks better by candlelight.<br /><br />2. I have 3 cars, 2 of which are paid off, which means I've got places to sleep!<br /><br />1. I like Raemen Noodles!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0