What is your idea of the essence of New York City? If you had to take a snapshot of something/one that encompasses your idea of the city, what would it be?
I put my two weeks notice in :-)
Fashion World, you can keep it. I'm off to more exciting things, like hostels in Europe, vacations home and art school! YaY!
I actually don't feel much different about finally making it official. I think it might have to do with the fact that I checked out of the situation months ago and now I'm just going through the motions. Ask me again next Friday. I'm sure I will be completely devastated when my life will not consist of a cubicle and stupid stupid people.
P.S. kiddies (just in case you have gotten this golden rule): Be careful what you write on the internets, you never know who's reading it ;-) (Hi Mom! The previous post about sex? I was kidding. honest.)
I have not been in a mood like this since before I was getting sex regularly. jk. but seriously I can't even remember the last time I was generally pissed off before I sat down at my desk. I am actually scared to approach myself. I'm itching to yell at someone. I want to belittle them to the size of a pea. I have actually noticed co-workers keeping their distance (shocker. wasn't aware most of them had common sense)
God! How much longer til I leave this joke of a company? I would just like to thank you again for making the past year and a half a living nightmare and an alternate universe where you believe you are curing cancer by dressing people in overpriced crap. I truly pity you.
You know what really pisses me off?
I think the only thing that comes close to my hatred for teenagers is my hatred for 21 year olds/ recent college grads. Their naivety makes me want to scream. Their negativity towards the world because the real world isn't all hearts and goddamn flowers makes me want to slap them. And their inability to take the trash out makes me want to slap their mother.
I'm really sorry society has lead you to believe right out of college you are going to get this fabulous job with amazing pay (working your way up? Oh. That only happens to other people) and when it doesn't it's the end of your world (News fucking flash: The definition of an intern is a gopher b/c even a gopher can do it. The point of it is not to see how well you can make coffee or fix the copy machine- and if you believe that, maybe you should switch career paths. It's to observe the industry you spent the last 4 years of your life deciding you want to be apart of. You're not going to be the VP tomorrow and if you believe that, you truly are deserving of your gopher title). I have already been there and I'm not in the mood for a round 2 of Post-College Roller coaster Ride Fun. My ride is close to the gate and I'm a second away from jumping off (hopefully) so forgive me if I don't feel sympathy for your gut wrenching drops or gravity defying highs or even the long waiting periods as you climb the steep hills.
Grow the fuck up already. Or go see a therapist. That's what they are there for. And for godsake, take the fucking trash out once in awhile.
Yes. I am highly aware of how hypocritical this must sound. Believe me, If I could go back and slap 21 year old me, I would.
Just in case you have been living under a rock:
I have a very dominant personality.
I'm passionate.
I'm blunt. I say things that might will hurt your feelings and I cannot help it (well, I probably could, but that takes too much energy for me to care. Did I mention I'm a tad self centered?).
I am opinionated.
I am independent.
and I like it like that ;-)
oh? you don't? kindly FUCK OFF.
I don't really want to be a Debbie Downer, but I do want to address this marketing ploy day that is coming up. I think the key to remember here is, it's just another day. Just like Christmas is December 25- It's just a day. No one is forcing you to acknowledge this, just like no one forces you to celebrate baby Jesus' birthday. Sure, there is more red and pink crap floating around but if you don't obsess about it, it will just fade back into the universe.
I've never understood why people put so much emphasis on it and I'm a little annoyed at hearing about how depressing it is. In fact, it really kind of pisses me off. Can't you show how much you care about someone throughout the year? Do you really need a day to remind you that you actually like the person sleeping next to you? If so, then you are way beyond my expertise help and I would kindly suggest breaking up pronto.
And if you're on the other side of the fence, I'm sorry that this day is a big slap in the face but shame on you for not being comfortable enough with yourself to get over it. Maybe you need to take a step back, embrace yourself for who you are without someone and maybe try again next year.
So, instead of wallowing in the fact you don't have someone to buy you a box of chocolate (which you probably don't need and who eats an entire box anyway?), go buy your own damn chocolate and let's focus on other important days that have the letter V in them. Like V-E Day or V-J Day. I think those were pretty important dates, more important than say this one where a diapered man baby flies around shooting people.
Still upset? Go here and talk to some other lonely hearts.
ps: this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that surprisingly I have a boyfriend this year. I've never put much importance on this day and I'm pretty sure he will back me up on that. Yes, he will be in town but mainly because I will be out of town for awhile and we wanted to see each other beforehand. Wanna know what we are doing? I am going to leave him in bed so I can go yarn shopping then I'm going to make him do laundry with me. please try and contain yourself from all the romance dripping off that one.
Someone passed this along to me today. It's a California public school teacher's thoughts from inauguration day.
"As I watched the inauguration yesterday, I was struck by something in addition to the historical significance of the event. When it comes to the highest degree of ceremony in our land, we turn to that which is often the first to be on the chopping block in tough financial times: the arts. There was singing, poetry, an ensemble of some of the most talented and accomplished instrumental solo artists in the world, discussion of the particular painting featured at the luncheon, grand marches played by a band. Because great societies are often measured by their progress in the arts, we seem to understand intrinsically that these things belong, yet we are often unwilling as a society to preserve them in our education system. For every artist who blessed the nation with their gift yesterday, there was someone who had initially recognized their talent, nurtured it, guided its technical preparation, encouraged its development. Someone introduced Yo-Yo Ma to the cello, and put Aretha Franklin on a stage. These things do not just happen by accident.
The next time you hear the flippant suggestion to cut the arts out of the schools because it’s “nice, but not necessary,” imagine yesterday without the arts… a walk to a podium, an oath, a speech, a walk to whatever comes next… no parades, no balls. Imagine the band members who played “Hail to the Chief,” told in middle school that music would not be offered in their school any more. Imagine if Itzhak Perlman never held a violin. Imagine the featured choir given over to the directorship of someone with no vocal training because the chorus position was cut. These things are happening every day, and someday we may be faced with a quickie courthouse ceremony rather than royal pomp and circumstance befitting a presidential inauguration. Think about it."
For the record, I do care about myself and I think am a lot more socially responsible than some people.
American Lung Association, with all do respect, kindly piss off.
I am way tired.
I really wanna snuggle. When I finally crawled into bed last night, I cant even express to you how euphoric it was (well, in the few moments before I crashed. I think I was comatose as soon as my head hit the pillow). Just thinking of that amazing feeling is killing me. ugh. Anyone else feel the need to eat more when they are thoroughly exhausted? I think it has something to do with keeping me busy/ moving so I don't fall asleep.
Luckily I am posting this in the afternoon. This morning I was a force not to be reckoned with and it all started out with a few text messages, an email or two and a lot of angry facebook/ myspace status updates. I was thoroughly embarrassed to know people that would say or pass along the hateful things I was receiving. It's a wonder I didn't delete every Republican "friend" I had. Then I stopped and realized that is the beauty of diversity/ living in a democracy and at the moment they just happen to be sore losers- and I get that. My guy lost the previous times I have voted and I understand the frustrations they are going through right now. I also know that this is just the initial shock and eventually it will wear off and then I can say Your are very much Welcome for believing now. Eh. And if they never do come around, then I wish them luck in Canada like they are continuing to threaten (Not that there is any fault in that. I will totally be moving with yall, too. But did you ever stop for a moment and realize Canadians are a lot more liberal than we are- which is exactly what you'd be running from, right? Not solely the president elect's race? Because if that is so, then you might as well delete me from your life right now. I shall disregard your existence anyway.)
My favorite part so far is the insistence of not being boastful and to have more tact in the feelings for those McCain supporters. This was the same person who 8 years ago made sure I was highly aware of who won presidency (In case you are wondering, it wasn't Gore- well. . you know what I mean). No, I haven't thrown anything back and I have been taking in all of the emails/ texts without response because I'm afraid of what I might tell them if I do decide to respond. Ok. Enough talk about that because now I'm all worked up and it's getting harder and harder to be the bigger person in this situation.
So, I will end with I hope that the first dog is a Yorkie ;-)
Dear IT Department,
I'm getting really annoyed. This is day two in which I do not have full Internet access.
If you think you are getting a drop of extra productivity from me, you are going to be sorrily mistaken. Your company barely pays me enough to do the work I actually do (and don't blame it on "there is no money in fashion"; you are a multi-billion dollar corporation that should be ashamed of yourself for not giving full time employees sick days or vacation. How anyone enjoys that factor is beyond me) and I won't be doing much more because you decided to go all noble and restrict my favorite sites. I would rather sit and stare at the computer monitor. Which I will do, right after AIM-ing every co-worker to inform them that I am bored.
Get your shit together. I am not in a mood to be messed with. ever.
xoxo
I am done with you.
I will no longer be a large patron of your fashionable arts. You have pissed me off enough that I do not ever want to spend another dime in your store and that says a lot being that the majority of my clothes come from your store.
I wish you bankruptcy.
Sincerely.
.
Any suggestions for a new favorite store?
Since I don't seem to be as originally quirky as I thought, does anyone else do this:
When they find a favorite song you put it on repeat for a whole day? You listen to it to the point of exhaustion and keep going and going and going. . . then after about a week you're over it. The appeal is no longer there. You still love the song but it's glisten is dulled?
Yea. That's what I'm doing with this one. (I know I'm 4 years late, but what did you expect? I'm pretty much 4 years late on a lot of things)
This song makes me miss having a car tremendously. I want to properly jam with the windows rolled down, full blast, a cigarette in my hand and singing on the top of my lungs (one of the upside of driving to and from college for 4 hours by myself)
And I think my new musician crush is on drummers. They get to beat the shit out of something and it is socially acceptable. How fabulous is that? Is it too late to decide I want to be a drummer with my life?
Last night I went out in a social setting and realized my conversation skills are rusty. My sorority would be very disappointed. What the hell do you do during the awkward pauses? And what if you have the attention span of a 5 year old and are done with the conversation and decide the wall is more entertaining? What has happened to my human interact tolerance?
Ok. one more time with the Muse song then I have to end it.
What song can you listen to over and over and not get sick of it?
Apparently, speaking through Instant Messenger is a fucking new things for people, so in my duty of being a good person I am going to conduct today's lesson. Pay attention closely because I am up to my goddamn neck with this bullshit and I am not above defriending your ass. I have enough friends who can carry an AIM conversation correctly, I don't need the extra annoyance.
IM conversation (for the mentally retarded who have not figured it out yet) is NOT the same thing as having a F2F (that's face to face) or even a Phone convo. Why not? Well, for starters, the tone of voice is lost through words. The delivery is lost when someone reads it and either doesn't know you well enough to understand or they just plain interpret it wrong. Need an example? If I say Fuck you when I am talking to you (in person/ on phone) and then laugh, you know I'm kidding. But if I just type Fuck you. . . you may or may not know I'm kidding (depends on how many brain cells you're working with that day; and if you're working with a lot, you should know I never joke about the word fuck). So it is quite important that you get your tone across to the other end, or there will be 10 kinds of awkward and confusion. Got that? This is usually why people use the term "lol" or make different types of smiley faces- this helps convey the typed statement in the correct fashion.
Next. (PAY FUCKING ATTENTION) When you type a sentence and in return, the recipient types "What?", "?" or asks a question about your statement, that means you did not express your thought in a comprehensible way. That means the recipient (i.e. ME!) needs you to elaborate your nitwitted statement. That does not mean you need to get frustrated because the recipient is not clairvoyant and cannot decipher stupid. That also does not mean your recipient cannot read or is dense; that does however mean you need to type in complete comprehensible sentences until you learn how to communicate properly- during which time, I highly recommend you delete your IM account and take Text Messaging off of your cell phone plan.
I have never in my entire life used a bottle of headache medicine so fast. I get a headache everyday. everyday, I tell you! This is getting recockulous. And don't tell me it's from the computer monitor. I have been starring at these babies for 8 hours straight for the past 4 years. This is something bigger.
I'm totally convinced it is a tumor or an aneurysm about to blow brought on by fashion merchandising and all the crap that it consists of. It's probably my brain just being pissed off that I haven't done anything to exercise it since I moved here. Or maybe it's just my subconcious' alarm clock and everyday at 3p.m., eastern time, it screams WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR LIFE?! over and over; inwhich I hit "snooze" and take an Excedrin.
But I do get to leave work early, thank the g-o-d. see? Showing up early and leaving late does pay off. . . .sometimes. I'd rather get a sick day or 2 or vacation time instead of leaving early, but hey! that's just me. I'm sure it's asking too much anyway.
Double Dating. Is it really a good idea? Ever? Anyone have a good story? Please feel free to share.
Anyway- my overall rating of the night was like 8.5 on a scale 1-10. . . but my friend would score it like a 2. Her date happened to big the biggest douchebag on the planet, and that's being nice.
I know I should have written this over the weekend, but I was hoping I might remember more of the details as the days went on. Obviously, I got drunk just like I planned. I treated it very casually, like it was just a bunch of friends going out together. Luckily, my date (who we will call Speedy) rocked. He was adorable, sweet, smart- you know all the things I want but are scared to death to accept? The one problem I had with him was the major one. He wasn't tall enough (And I don't want to hear it. I have ONE standard I will not budge on and it's height. I'm sorry. That's the way it is and if it means I will forever be alone then so be it. It can't be that hard to find an awesome guy that meets my height requirement- well, obviously it is, please refer to the long list of douchebag ex-boyfriends. But jeez- it's one simple request, people!)
So there we were, at Bowery Electric, a rock bar in the Village (When they say hole in the wall, they meant it. If you didn't know where you were going you would have missed this place. And why is it all New York bars look bigger and nicer on their websites? They should be sued for false advertising) and Speedy and I are laughing having fun, when I feel a hand on my leg. It's my friend. She looks at me, "Help me. Omg. All he has talked about is work, he hasn't asked me anything and he has been texting the whole time." Granted, this guy was like 45 minutes late for our agreed meeting time and he showed up in the suit I'm sure he wore to work- how inconsiderate can you be? I understand you work in finance and you take your job way to seriously but it's Friday night! Loosen up and have some fun! Strike one.
We decided it was time to make a change anyway, so we walked over to MacDougal and end up at Off the Wagon. If you ever decide you want to partake in the festivities there, don't. It's a Grade A college bar complete with the beer pong tables and sweaty crowds of under aged drunks- but they played good music. Which speaking of good music, Speedy and I went to get another round and when we came back, friend grabbed me. "He doesn't know who Gwen Stefani is." WHAT?! Who hasn't heard of Gwen Stefani? Half of a Strike for that one- he is a straight man, but come on. I decided to be a good friend and sent her to go get more drinks, go to the bathroom- something! anything!- to save her. I started talking to him about music and he said he doesn't listen to music. ever. He tunes out music. Like at the bar, he told me he was tuning it out and all he could hear was me. That's Strike Two, buddy. Who doesn't like some form of music?! Music is my life. Major Red flag!
Drunkenly, I kept turning to Speedy and saying "Ok. Here is the plan. Operation save Friend from Douchebag". He was very cute about keeping with the plan, but I would always forget what the plan was. He would lean in and whisper "I thought we were doing [whatever I stirred up as a good plan]" and I would remember but decide that wasn't good and come up with something else. I was trying really hard, Jillie, but at this point I had way too much to drink and wasn't thinking. And I kept getting side tracked and making out (but more on that later).
This is about the point in the night when Speedy and I went to smoke and I got yelled at by a very intoxicated girl for not knowing how to get to Jersey. I was giving him a hard time about living in Jersey City and how if we were to go on a date there I would need directions b/c all I know is you can get on the PATH. Apparently, she was just a little too attached to the damn state and started telling me exactly how to get there- there are boats, trains and buses apparently. Well, if Jersey is so damn great why are you partying in Manhattan?
When we got back inside, McDoucheBag apparently left my friend to go take a "phone call" and never came back. Strike Three! Not that she wanted him to come back (she literally spent the rest of the night ducking and ignoring his calls and texts) but who leaves a date for 20 minutes to take a phone call? Good riddance.
Speedy was a very good date. He walked me to the subway, where we made out like teenagers on the fence of the Basketball court (so tacky. but so much fun). It really sucks I had so much fun. We decided we needed to hang out again, sober and more like a real date and such. Wouldn't you know he called the next day and wanted to go out that night? (Don't you know about the 3 day rule?) I must have made a very large impression. . . or I just happen to have TWO very large impressions attached to my chest (joking. . .), no matter. He invited me to his Birthday Party for next weekend and we have plans for later this week.
Stay tuned.
What about me wanting to by makeup for $1 makes you think I need a subscription to Working Mother magazine? Personally, I would think the fact that all of your makeup is only $1 would appeal more to the broke college student in an upscale wet-n-wild way rather than a mother who barely has time to shower much less put their face on, but that's just me. I do appreciate the gesture, but next time maybe Glamour or InStyle would be better received. I'm not sure what you are trying to tell me here. I am not sure if I'm supposed to be offended or not, but I will over look this and pass the magazine on to one of the FOUR women in my office who in a few months will join this category.
Sincerely,
NQ
P.S.- this is not a very go green approach either seeing as I never asked for the magazine that probably killed a few trees in the ever disintegrating rain forests across the world and I'm not really big into recycling.
To those about to run to E.L.F.- be forewarned.
Dressed and ready for the Sex and The City Premier (oh did I forget to mention I'm going to that? At Radio City Music Hall? :-) Yea. The official New York premier- after it's premiered on every other goddamn country but the show and movie are based in New York CITY. anyhoo- yes, I will be there).
Because I know I must stay pretty and unwrinkled all day (there will be no time to change later) what happens?
my bagel lands cream cheese down in my lap on my beautiful black dress.
I am so not amused.
Sorry I haven't had anything more interesting than a mouse in my apartment to talk about. . but I'm sick. And I generally cannot keep a thought in my head when I'm all hyped up on cold medicine (which is the only good thing about being sick)
(I remember in college I used to love to get sick and go to the infirmary. They had some really good drugs. How they were over the counter I will never know, because after popping one of those bad boys I would be feeling goodddd) (because by college I had given up all forms of illegal drugs and I had to get my kicks somewhere)
And so now I am watching in the clock until 3pm when I get to leave and go to the doctor and get some antibiotics and hopefully a shot- YaY! (that is not sarcastic. I love shots. don't ask me why).
I am really nervous about going to the doctor in New York. I hate it. It's a different way of going to the doctor. Doctor's offices are in apartments or tiny little offices and they only take cash. WTF?! This does not make me feel good about my health being in the hands of someone who doesn't have a credit card machine (I have to accept it at the bodegas, but I will be damned if I live in the center of the universe and my doctor won't even take my credit card. I could go to the doctor in Bumfuck, Utah and I bet every doctor there will have an actual doctors office and take my card). It irritates me to no end this city is so damn cash friendly. That's why it's so damn expensive to live here. If the cash isn't burning a hole in your pocket, someone is pick pocketing it. UGH!!!
Alright. I will return when I'm not in bitchy sick mode.
Posts
All Comments
