Date Your Own Age Bracket!!!
I want to own Just Married on DVD. Honestly. I’ve spent the evening in a silence only periodically broken by my own laughter watching it on TV. Ashton Kutcher really plays the reluctant husband well… like in What Happens in Vegas, which I’ve watched twice this weekend. What a travesty that he’s married to a 50 year old walking corpse.
Forget swine flu, SARS, HIV, bird flu, typhoid, Amazonian hookworm, world hunger etc., there an epidemic more close to home: a lack of young, NOT INSANE, eligible men. Ashton, for example, is wasted on someone 30 years older than he is. Should be some kind of law… Date Your Own Age Bracket… I hate “cougars”. Who do they think they are? Robbing our generation!! Did their mothers do it to them!? No! It’s totally selfish of older women to think they can have the 20 years old who, generationally (if thats a word), belong to us. Kinda. I use “belong” loosely. It leaves us in a complete male-famine. And my other annoyance… why is every guy in my university a jock? Or a jock-type? sports-wear, a light bag (because they dont carry books because they dont work) who are surrounded by 3 acres of female acolytes. I’m stereotyping I know but its true… and if they’re not jocks, they’re weird, scruffy, unshowered, hippies who hang out with females who are weird, scruffy and unshowered. Neat, refined, tidy, cleanliness is no longer attractive. You need to be a stumpy, greasy haired, band girl whose always bent over slightly and snorts when she laughs and listens to obscure music played by unknown local bands. And who has an active account on WOW. Someone hand me a fucking bucket I’m going to hurl.
That’s the main issue. Weirdos aside, my main point was that there’s a famine of epidemic proportions and cougars aren’t helping it.
In other news, the entire city where I live flooded last week. So the university made an exception to cancel all lectures/activities for this week and push our deadlines a week later because 25% of all campus facilities were damaged. It was dramatic to say the least. People lost property, people were waist high in water…
Shittiest and best part of the week came in 2 lumps. I finally ordered my new bed. It’s a dark wood frame and a springy deep mattress. It’s coming next week. I’m so paranoid that they’ll deliver the wrong one like what happened last time I tried this. So to make sure, I’ve given the delivery people my number so they can ring me first before my dad to verify that what they have in their stupid van is exactly what I picked out. It’s a bit primabitch of me but… this is important. Coming home from ordering the bed, I found my little kitty Leo on the road, but it was horrible and shocking so I don’t want to talk about it.
I love Lady Gaga’s bit in Video Phone. Kicks some life into a dead-sounding song. And I like the way Beyoncé says New Orleans. I said it like “New Or-leens”, but she says it “New Awh-luns” which is probably the correct way to say it, maybe. But I’d feel odd say “Oh yes, New Awh-Luns, yes… jazz, creole…” so… I dunno where I’m going with this…
Next! 21st birthdays… honestly. Where’s that bucket. I’m too polite, I think. Nice to get asked, but realistically? It spells out awkward and it spells out just-making-numbers. And do you get them a card, if so… what would you have to say? Being there, I’d feel like I was selling out my inner feminist and sense of romantic justice. And plus… Awkward awkward.
If Plan A doesn’t work out (whatever that is) there is a Plan P!
for one or two years I’ve had this romantic little idea thing where I want to suddenly move to Paris for a six month period and be a waitress. That simple. Be a waitress.
It’s one of those stupid ideas one has… trying to “make it on your own two feet” trial thingy where you can always run back home crying, broke, with your tail between your legs. If I did it, I’d have no idea where I’d live or how to get a job.
Let’s all be aware here that I can’t even get hired in the country I live in… part of me thinks I’m unemployable and the other thinks that it’s society’s fault. Like the fact that my local supermarket has a clear, doubtless, bias towards hiring people… who aren’t native… to this country and… I’ll make this as politically correct as I possibly can… who are non-abled, challenged members of society. =x Let’s hope no leftist, neo-hippies read this. It’s annoying, I’m not native to here either so you’d think they’d jump at hiring me too. Noooo. English has to be your second language or you get no where these days.
So what chance would I have in Paris, if I achieve diddly-squat here? I want to try it though. I mean… as a waitress, if you learn the menu, they can’t ask for anything thats not on the menu, so understanding orders isn’t too bad, in my overly-simplified view of the world. And you can get them to point at what they want, I’m sure. I’m not really into food industry or how it works. And how busy kitchens get makes me nervous, and I’ve only seen them on TV. And don’t waitresses usually get all the shit when things go wrong? A french Gordon Ramsey shouting FUCK into my face comes to mind… And I don’t know what fuck is in French… “putain”? Then there’s the worries of, “I’d get raped if I went.” but I happened to be near a mirror when I thought this so i saw my reflection and laughed at the possibility of this actually occuring. Asides from not even knowing the workings of a restaurant in the English-speaking world, let alone anything else, the idea of a glass of good French red in the evenings, good bread, croissants in the morning, the Eiffel Tower in the background somewhere, seems really ideal. And my French is alright… I can book hotels, shout “Is anyone here for service?” in empty hotel reception halls, stand in an empty street getting directions off a woman on a second floor balcony holding a baby, and tell Germans that my dad’s hit his head on a rock and might be bleeding. … All very relevant vocabulary to waitressing… o_o
Plus, it’s not going to happen tomorrow. If I did it I’d do it at some point in my twenties. Do the dramatic soap-opera thing. Break up with my long term boyfriend like “I have to do this. Goodbye!” at 22 to 25. Which is not old enough to settle down, but still young enough to make some humbling mistakes and see what happens.
Quick rant.
I hate when I’m listening to music on my computer with earphones in and I forget I have earphones in and I get up to walk away and the earphones rip out of my ears and it hurts… And I fell out of bed over the weekend and I woke up just as I tipped off the side which was scary. Thought I was falling off a cliff.
Also I’m very pissed off. There is a blind guy who looks at PORNOGRAPHY in OUR LIBRARY. It is DISGUSTING. I’m sick of it. It offends me. I’ve reported him twice now and still he’s at it. The library is a core learning facility, not a wanking SHED!!!!!!!!!! And he’s “blind” but he can see still see porn, magically. Omg. What kind of a world are we living in. And he’s been in college for centuries. If he was doing a degree he should be long gone by now. Over 4 years.
Blueghlgja’gpihgiphg.
American Students in Europe.
So when you’re here for a weekend there’s only three kinds of life around:
You.
The pervy security guard.
Hoards of American students in neighbouring apartments who are far, far away from their homes across the Atlantic, all doing their semester or year abroad.
Cultural differences. Us and Them. The first difference I notice…
Why do all American college girls (here at least) seem to wear North Face clothing? Is it a massive fucking trend over there where its in their constitution to own a piece of North Face clothing? They either have a NF fleece/jacket/rain jacket/trench coat or backpack or all 5 of those things, and wear them all together in one great big North Face clothing orgy or something…
In fact, I’m so intrigued by this that I just looked up North Face’s website. They’re a bone fide clothing line for campers, trekking, general outdoorsy things. But why wear them so exclusively? Sure it rains here, but a regular raincoat/jacket will do. It’s just strange how they all seem to wear that one brand. And the super annoying thing about North Face is that they put their logo (usually) on the back shoulder of their garments which… imo… is so stupid. If its a brand, it should be on the breast of the jacket or a tiny little emblem thing on the cusp of the sleeve. Anything on the back just looks like you put it on the wrong way. But they all seem to own it. Even North Face flasks.
I want to tell them, gently, that being on campus is not a tent-pitching, camp fire, hiking trip. It’s ok to wear civilian clothing.
Second of all… their shoes. Especially the girls. Coupled with the North Face stuff is usually a pair of chunky Nike lace-up running shoes. Why? Fleeces and running shoes. Plus the girls seem quite tomboy-ish. And strangely athletic.
The guys… don’t seem to wear as much North Face. They stick out because the American male, even in a lecture hall, will usually be wearing some kind of baseball cap. If he’s not wearing a cap, he blends in. But then when you hear his accent you think, “How weird. He isn’t wearing a baseball cap.” Also, American males look ridiculously older than they should be. Like if he should be 20-22, he could pass for 26. Majority of them have stubble/facial hair also. And talk about “going to class”, punctuating this with “dude” to a fellow American boy. They are also distinguishable because they’re ridiculously tall. Like trees. And it’ll be 8 degrees celsius (altho they’ll say that in fahrenheit cuz they’re weird) with a north wind and they’ll be wearing baggy shorts and no socks with their Quiksilver shoes.
They’re all insanely popular because what they do is they come here… locate each other and group together out of fear… and become one large synced-up group who party together, enjoy Europe together, travel around together, go to “class” together and get excited they can drink whilst under 21 together. They all know each other. So for example… when you know Amber from Chicago and tell Josh that you know a girl called Amber, Josh will also know Amber despite the fact that Josh comes from Seattle.
They eat weird food. They care about Thanksgiving and celebrate it. They talk LOUDLY. You can hear one from miles away and if you ask me, they seem to move their tongues a lot when they talk. Especially some of the non-North Face-wearing girls who instead prefer flipflops, no matter what weather it is, the same type of girl who begins everything with, “Ohmiguh you guys…”
Last year, one night, myself and my best friend opened the window of her top floor apartment and squirted water down on a group of them. And all they could do was duck, run and say, “Ohmiguh… was that wawder?” Yes, son, that was water.
And the weekend is full of them because they have no where to go but mill around. And my ears don’t come with a mute button so all I can do is hear ittttt.
Simon Says
Christ the internet is so SLOOOOOOW. 2009 and THIS is how far we’ve gotten. SAD.
Anyways, I didn’t vomit everywhere when I did my presentation. Before I did it, I was at home having my lunch and I watched a youtube video of the Hindenburg crashing. It’s awful to say, but it made me feel calmer. Like what I was about to do wasn’t nearly as nervous-making as a hydrogen flameball. So I did it… Was nervous. My knees didn’t shake thank god. And at one point I was totally into it but then the sound of my heart beating sort of… drowned out my voice and all I could hear was my heart thudding… and then my voice sounded really far away, but then that stopped and I could hear myself again. So that must’ve been… panic… or something similar. Luckily all the information was kinda in my head so I just… went into auto pilot and delivered it. I was scared I’d have to pause awkwardly in a “what do I say next?!??!” thing, but it didn’t happen.
And there’s a little power rush when I say, “And if you look to the back of the handout, you can see I’ve put…” and you hear/see people actually TURNING your handout over to see! Because you just told them to. Eeeee! It’s like ultimate Simon Says or something… with loads of people.
And now I can’t get to sleep……………. >__< but look how cool this is:
10 Things You’ll Never Hear Me Say:
1. It’s two thirty a.m. after a club. I want to walk down a dark alleyway alone on my way home.
2. I’m going to Iraq.
3. I love ketchup.
4. It’s great that men don’t open doors for women anymore.
5. I wish I could go back to school again, I had such a great time with all my friends.
6. Hang on, I’m just going out to buy cigarettes.
7. “Party in the USA” truly doesn’t make me jealous of Miley Cyrus’s looks/her everything. ……. “and the britney song was on, and the britney song was on!!!!”
8. I want to live where I live forever and ever and ever. I love my neighbours.
9. Sorry, I have a date that night.
10. I have breast implants.
i ___ college [[edit]]
On a “positive” note, I hate college right now. My presentation is looming. I have still yet to really come up with the way I’m going to present the information. Don’t know if I want to start with an overall description, or if I should go into a background… then a description. Then there’s 3 strands of information:
The mystery of the 1503 date and how this just throws it all into ambiguous fuck-knows-what-ness.
Leonardo-esque themes.
What Alberti thought of it all compared to what modern day folks think about it.
And what if I vomit over everybody?
And every time I picture myself giving a presentation in front of people, it ends up with a throng of dancers coming in through the door and breaking into dance and song. Simultaneously. To THIS song…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m34xyw8E-Qs&feature=fvst
O_o what is wrong with me. I have fantasied more about rigging S.5 up with laser lights and under-floorboard speakers and blacked out windows and how silvery glittery confetti should fall from the ceiling and the sprinker system should go off… more than I have given thought to how I should manage the information I’m going to be talking about.
In other news… the gym is fun. Twenty mins letting anger/tension out on a treadmill, then more on the crosstrainer, weights, a hot shower and bed. Good remedy for life.
[[edit]]
I have also started using my facebook more actively in the last few weeks. The weird side is that it puts you back in contact with old friends who added you, so you accept because you’re curious to see their profile and what’s going on in their lives since you were both 7. Then you find out that all of your other friends (except 1 or 2) are all mothers/fathers now. All under 25. O_O
There really is something in the water in that town. Partly glad that I moved away!!
My Manifesto
Hmm. My political manifesto for when I’m in power:
You need a license to upload YouTube vlogs of yourself. Only one accent is permissible per vlog.
Gingers can’t dye their hair any other colour. If you’re born that colour then you have to stay that colour. Hayley Williams…
… does not make it cool.
The wearing and transporting of hockey masks and chainsaws at night time is now allowed.
Rihanna is illegal.
Madonna does not exist (and never has).
Every Saturday is the day when everyone goes to have a picnic.
Steps no longer exist, there are only escalators. Indoors and outdoors.
Art is very, very important.
Celebrities are maintained adequately, but work for free, the money they normally earn is directed to various charities and people on the street.
Everyone has to stop what they’re doing and break into a choreographed dance routine when various songs suddenly start playing. Such as Run DMC It’s Like That, Michael Jackson Beat It, Chris Brown Forever and… anything from Glee.
For Halloween, the phrase at people’s doors is no longer “trick or treat” but “It’s Britney, bitch!”
Christmas is optional. Households can celebrate it any day they choose.
Rejection is not permissible. You can only deny offers of marriage. Dates cannot be rejected unless there is a substantiated, unlame reason, which you must declare and verify openly with the party (or parties) involved. You don’t know if you’re shutting the door on your potential one and only.
Everyone will have the ability to fly. Except criminals.
I will probably add to this… but that’s the main jist. Vote for me!
He’s Just Not That Into You
I left the heat on my room now its like a frigging sauna. Anyways, first week of full college lectures is done… Let it be known that my Thursdays are crap. I’m on for three hours straight then I get an hour break, then three more hours. But it’s not just six hours all around the same region of campus, each lecture is on in different buildings which are very far away from each other. So, for example, I have a my 11-1 in Building A, then my 1-2 in Building B. Throughout the six hours its like that, going back and forth between these two places. On foot. It’s not fun. And the main route between these two places involves a shitty up-hill walk, as well as a load of steps.
… I want a massage and I’m going pay for it and get one. So there. I also want a new phone. Mine keeps telling me it has no memory. Even tho I’ve deleted practically everything off of it to make room for messages. 114 messages and it’s like “Delete something so I can send your text” whereas when I first bought it it could store 2-3,000 messages before it would say this.
I spent my evening with the curtains shut, the lights off, lying in on my livingroom couch (which is uncomfortable enough to be called a few planks of wood nailed together with foam cushions on it) with 2 pillows and a blanket, watching He’s Just Not That Into You on my roommate’s DVD player. The main message to all females is simple… he’s just not that into you. If a guy wants you he’ll have you. If he likes you, he’d switch night and day to date you. Despite constant rejection, however, you will end up with the love of your life and he will change his mind and marry you on his yacht.
Shouldn’t lie in the dark filling my head with this modern quasi-fairytale trash but this evening I did. And I love Jennifer Aniston.
And while I feel rant-y… it annoys me so much the way girls bring their boyfriends into female clothing stores. As if the aisles between the rails aren’t narrow enough, there is a solitary, random, abandoned-looking male is standing in my way while I want to go look at shoes. Really. His girlfriend has just dropped in the middle of it while she’s looking at dresses. Why don’t they just go stand outside, instead of being there looking lost and embarrassed.
I also love this song at the moment… altho it confuses me at the start because it has a reference to Catherine/Joe… and I’m thinking this is Catherine and Joe Jackson but I thought he was meant to be a bad man? Unless they’re meaning they’re a perfect match because of the talented kids they had together? I keep thinking Wutherine Heights, but that’s Catherine and Healthcliff. Really good song tho, I’ve had it on repeat.
the plague, mothzilla and my friends called disney, kleenex and vaseline
So my roommate, Plague Girl, has had the plague all this week. I said you should really medicate yourself for that or else it’ll spread and that I’m hyper susceptible to colds and sniffles. I’m nice enough not to dislike her for being sick, it happens to all, but its just sitting there with tissues in the main living area that everyone has to be in that gets me. She should have quarantined herself in her room. Now I have it. Last night I felt it coming along and took some cough syrup and then at 5 a.m. I woke up with that horrible… synus (sp?) pressure thing in the forehead and the bridge of your nose and ugggh… The worst. Anyways, I’m glad I chose to come home this weekend because it means I can concentrate on getting better, away from the city hustle. It’s now half eight or so, I’ve lost all sense of taste and smell, colour in my face and I’m running a temperature so my hair is stuck to the sides of my face and has been all afternoon that I spent watching the Disney Channel… The Return of Jafar (an Aladdin spinoff), Wall.E and The Aristocats while wrapped up in a blanket on the couch with only a glass of a vitamin C water thingy, some Sinutabs… or whatever, a pot of Vaseline and Kleenex tissues for company (my dad abandoned me, saying he too wanted to avoid contamination). And the sound of me breathing through my mouth.
Anyways, last night… somewhere after taking the cough syrup and before the 5 a.m. death knell, when I was in bed trying to sleep… I heard a fluttering against my wall and I opened my eyes and I saw a giant, huge, monster moth flying above me. So naturally, I calmly got out of bed and said hello to it and made it a cup of tea. Not really… I just harpooned myself out of the bed, hit the light, grabbed a book and threw it in the direction of this huge moth, which, no exaggeration, looked like this:
And it got worse because I kinda hit the moth with the book, so it fell onto my bed, but then bounced up and down from it when it was trying to fly again, then, airbourne, it flew right at me. I covered my face, screamed and accidentally turned around and ran into my closet doors, bruising my right knee. =( In all, a crappy 24-48 hours, probably god’s punishment towards me for all the swine flu jokes made in the past.
All I want right now is some hot chicken soup… and maybe watch something I’ve never watched before but keeping meaning to… like Fight Club.
