Wednesday, March 30, 2011


I’ve been doing a lot of waiting around lately. I am currently waiting for my ride to some supposed fabulous party in UpScale Marin with some people I don’t know, and some I do. The hype makes the wait worth it: a mansion-esque house, comfortable company, prospective conversations with people I don’t know, seafood, sangria...

That’s one type of waiting I do every day; waiting for busses, waiting for my sister to get home, waiting for my favorite show to air online somewhere, waiting for my manager to be ready to leave for work - lots of waiting. This is to be expected. I suppose the amount of time spent waiting by the average person may rival that of the average amount of time the average person (depending on age) sleeps. Together that’s a lot of time spent idle, though not a waste - in my opinion. Sleep allows refreshment after activity (ideally), and waiting creates a buffer between living life and sleeping - prime contemplation and reflection time. What is a waste, however, is the other kind of waiting I have come to find myself taking part in.

I am moving to Austin this summer, this is no secret. I’ve said it a thousand times, and I’ll say it seven thousand more times before it happens - and then remind everyone that I live in Austin once I get there. I have some time before I leave, though, and I feel like I’m in purgatory. I don’t go out as much anymore because what’s the point? I’m only going to miss my friends more if I get closer to them, and probably miss San Francisco so much that I get homesick. I’ve come to the realization that all this is going to happen anyway. No matter how close I get to those around me, I’ll miss them. No matter where I go, I’ll miss San Francisco. I’m tired of spending my time in inactivity. My carelessness has caused me to come close to the brink of losing contact with my friends that live a few streets away from me, and caused me to fall behind in my classes. Lately I’ve spend a great deal of my time at home watching Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix.

I’ve been making excuses for this lethargy. My fake ID recently got taken from me, almost as soon as I got it. I wrapped my social life around acting older than I am, and rationalized this by comparing our society to that of the rest of the world and the fact that I would be considered an adult anywhere else. I’ve got a year left to figure out how to make friends, fall in love, and have a great deal of fun without centering myself around and abundance of alcohol. No more excuses.

My point to this awkward rambling is to urge my friends to take my lead (and help me) in promoting creativity, action, and making memories for ourselves. This is my written contract (mentally signed) that I will not remain idle.

Monday, March 28, 2011

Bronx Zoo Cobra

An Egyptian Cobra

A fairly new-born female Egyptian Cobra has gone missing from the Bronx Zoo for the past few days. Follow her adventures around NYC via her Twitter feed @BronxZoosCobra
I do speak Parseltongue, but with a thick Bronx accent.


Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Appointment with the prefix of Dis

Disappointment: the feeling of sadness or displeasure caused by the nonfulfillment of one’s hopes or expectations.

Yesterday I had one of those days. It began upon my alarm (this coming from only one of the 3 devises I set an alarm to go off simultaneously, seeing as I’ve been having trouble with A] the fact that my alarm on my phone decided never to work again and B] getting up in the morning at all). I had little to no sleep that night. I kept dreaming about my house (with me in it) being swallowed whole by a sea monster erupting from the ground in a volcanic burst and then swimming out into the ocean toward the Marianna's Trench. However it was not this that was waking me; I quite enjoyed this dream actually, this monster had a whole village living inside of it where problems were talked about and solved in a diplomatic manner. I met a girl there who loved adventure, and this monster was large enough to sufficiently travel around and provide entertainment for a lifetime, so we traveled and were entertained together, in more ways than one. What did wake me was the monstrous coughs caused by the huge buildup of flem in my throat from my week of plague. By the way, if you’re super sick like I was (and still sort of am) you should try “Wellness Formula” by Source Naturals, most likely available in a health/vitamin store near you.

I had a quiz in Geology that I studied super hard for, and was subsequently quizzed on shit I neglected to retain in my studies. Somebody please tell Asher Roth that a majority of people (at least ones I know) don’t love college, and furthermore, don’t give a flying fuck if he loves college. (Where does the term “flying fuck” come from? I’d love to join the mile high club and sometimes I feel like I’m flying while fucking...)

After my scholastic rendezvous, I got a key copied and then hurried home to freshen up for my big day. I had agreed to see a lady but was not sure if said lady would come to me, or if I were to go to her. Either way, I had to go home first to drop off my shit, put shit on my face, put together other shit, clean up my shit, and other homely duties. I received a text from the lady asking if I was working, to which I replied with my whereabouts, and then wondered why she was asking when I told her twice I'd be home. No matter, onward with the beautifying of my cranium.

After several hours past with no text or call, I realized just how much day I had wasted, and began to sulk into my abyssal loneliness while stuffing my face with pot stickers and cigarettes while watching old episodes of Grey’s Anatomy.

Fuck all.

Monday, March 7, 2011

Berry & Nana

2 perspectives when talking for an extended period of time: the talker, and the impatient listener. Ever have that feeling where you're listening to somebody talk on and on and on and the only thing you can think about is something slightly related that you want to bring up, but you can't get a word in? Happens to me all the time. I frequently end up on the other end of this spectrum as well: the talker. Whatever it is I'm talking about is just so extremely interesting, and I'm aware of this, so I have to keep going. Obviously everyone cares tremendously about whatever it is I'm talking about. Only thing worse than waiting for someone to break for a breath to get a word in, is being the person that's waited on to stop talking. Eventually the impatient listener is going to interrupt with their own story, and when that moment arrives, how awkward and disappointing does that feel? Very much so, I must say.

Cousin It?


Thursday, March 3, 2011

A spoonful...

spoonful comparison

A spoonful of cough syrup- the amount in which would remain in the spoon after jogging with it
A spoonful of mintchip ice cream- the maximum amount that would stay piled atop a mound while carefully eating in a calculated pattern that will allow for the ice cream to be savored without loosing any sugary deliciousness.