Pictures from the Weekend

Liz, Caroline, and Me in Boston
(notice the Long Island Liz made me drink)



Shaking it to Senora

Never Say Never

They say you should "never say never". I'm not really sure who "they"are, but I'm pretty confident there's a handful of things I'm comfortable saying "never" about. Here's just a few:

- Never do I want to die a slow, painful death
- Never do I want to gain 150 lbs
- Never download snood during finals week
- Never do I want to suffer from food poisoning
- Never do I want to see my parents naked
- Never do I want to see my parents sick
- Never will I think dog shows are normal
- Never do I want to see George W elected again
- Never do I want to be too old to spin around in circles really fast
- Never take your friend Jamal to a St Patrick's Day parade in Alabama
- Never am I not happy its summertime
- Never will I understand why gay marriage is such a big f-ing problem
- Never do I want to take Roots of History again
- Never will Sean Paul not make me want to dance
- Never take laxatives before a long car ride
- Never do I think facial tattoos are ok
- Never watch Boogie Nights with your grandmom
-Never will the word "Uranus" not make me crack a smile
- Never do I want to see someone I love get hurt
- Never do I want to start studying for my damn history exam tomorrow

What a Bloodbath

I wasn't sure if this weekend was going to be able to live up to my expectations, but it pretty much surpassed them.

As I've expressed in numerous posts before, this weekend was the much anticipated trip to Bean Town for Aaron Karo, one of my fav comedians. My cousin Liz drove from State College, PA for the event and very generously picked me and Caroline up along the way. It was a pretty arduous trip but very much worth the effort.

We arrived in Boston around 5 or so (I'll leave the hotel unnamed for prides sake), got dressed, and headed down to the very classy Chinese restaurant bar in the hotel for some pre-standup drinks. After a round of Mai tais, Liz and I headed to the show leaving Caroline to meet up with her boyfriend. Thank God we left when we did because had we got there 3 minutes later we would have had to stand for the whole show, but instead we got a pretty prime front row table.
So there were Liz and I, just feet away from Karo, having some drinks, pretty much in heaven.

And luckily, the show was in no way a disappointment. I wasn't sure how Ruminations would translate to the stage but it all worked out really well. There was, as expected, plenty of jokes about drinking- including my fav about opening bar tabs, a very dangerous situation- as well as a few about his mom (Just open a window!), trying to hookup sober, and the differences between the east and west coast (east obviously wins). But I think the highlight of the night was probably when he asked for a volunteer, preferably one in a wife beater. Well my excitement got the best of me then because I launched out of my seat to show off my wife beater and to offer my services.

It gets worse.

Then I start to walk on stage and Karo has to remind me that I was not, in fact, at a magic show and that he didn't need me to come on stage. There was some laughter, he commented on how embarrassing it was for me that I had done that, and I probably turned about 8 shades of red.

Still gets worse.

He needed the volunteer to help him out with some new material. He had 25 new jokes that he wanted to try out on us for the first time. However, in the midst of laughing at myself for previous embarrassment, I failed to hear him say that he wanted me to call out even numbers between 1 and 25. My first pick was 25. Karo laughed at me some more, called me a jackass, and basically highlighted my stupidity to the entire crowd. But on a bright note, Aaron Karo does now know my name, and I got a hug from him post-show. And I didn't even need to go up to him afterwards like a desperate groupie, as did half of the girls there. So there's the one plus side of the night.

After the show, Liz and I met back up with Caroline at the Chinese bar, had a few more drinks, and then hit the town to disgrace ourselves in Boston. All in all, we had pretty good luck guy wise. A group started a conversation with us in every bar we went to, and I'm proud to say that all of them were older, not bad looking, and, from what I could tell, fairly normal. By the end of the night, Liz and I had danced to Senora (ie the Beetlejuice song), Caroline got shot down by TWO bars for over-intoxication, Liz met her future husband, and I invited the whole bar back to our very classy hotel for an after party. So basically, the night was pretty tame.

Thank god the next morning we were able to find the BEST diner ever. We all ordered omelets and, no joke, they came out within 3 minutes of ordering them. It was the happiest any of us have ever been.

Later that night, the fun continued when Liz and I met up with my parents in Manhattan for dinner. They were in town for the weekend to see Spamalot so they invited us to meet them for dinner. We went to Les Halles, the Kitchen Confidential restaurant, and then we went to the Algonquin for some after dinner drinks. Unfortunately we did not get the Martini on the Rocks, a $10, 000 cocktail which comes with your choice of diamond. Maybe next time, though.

The rest of the night was far less classy, spent back here at the apartment. By the time Liz and I arrived, everyone had been drinking for a significant amount of time and were either already drunk or pretty close to being so. Liz and I both thought we were gonna have difficulty getting intoxicated but, fortunately, it ended up being no problem. Several Coors Lights and a purple nurple later we were pretty tipsy. I just might have the bestest cousin ever.

So now hear I sit, ruminating over a gourmet weekend, wishing it wasn't over. If I could relive it, I would in a heart beat. I think its safe to say I wont do an ounce of work today which not only is really irresponsible but will also probably cause me some pain tomorrow when I have a million things to do. Its a sad ending to a very happy weekend but that's pretty much the standard in my life. Eh, fuck me.

Woo hoo!

Aaron Karo tonight! I'll be driving to Boston with Liz and Caroline. It should be a blast! After staying in last week do to illnesses, I'm really looking forward to a fun weekend!! Updates and, if I figure it out, pictures to come!!

Ode to Peanut Butter n Jelly

I LOVE peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I think they may just be one of the greatest things ever invented.

I never liked peanut butter until senior year of high school. All through grade school I never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my lunch box. I ate bologna and ketchup sandwiches.

I eat my peanut butter and jelly with two parts jelly, one part peanut butter. I cut it diagonally and then peal off the crusts and eat them first.

Sometimes, when I'm really hungry, I make a triple decker peanut butter and jelly. That's what I'm eating now.

I don't like to call peanut butter and jelly PB & J.

I like other peanut butter sandwiches too. I like peanut butter and banana and peanut butter and apple, but nothing makes me as happy as peanut butter and jelly.


If I was in second grade, what I just wrote would have earned me an O for outstanding.

What a Jerk

Donald Trump is officially the world's biggest asshole. The following is an open letter he wrote to Martha Stewart:

Dear Martha:

It's about time you started taking responsibility for your failed version of The Apprentice. Your performance was terrible in that the show lacked mood, temperament and just about everything else a show needs for success. I knew it would fail as soon as I first saw it – and your low ratings bore me out.

Between your daughter, with her one word statements, your letter writing and, most importantly, your totally unconvincing demeanor, it never had a chance – much as your daytime show is not exactly setting records.

Despite this, I did nothing but positively promote you. Your only response to your failed show was that, "I thought that I was supposed to fire Donald Trump!" You knew this was not true – NBC would never fire me when The Apprentice was, for a good period of time, the #1 show on television and my recent finale, where I hired Randal, was the #2 show for the week, easily beating the competing finale of Amazing Race and others. Even Mark Burnett said, "Thank God that didn't happen," when asked about firing Donald Trump.

Essentially, you made this firing up just as you made up your sell order of ImClone. The only difference is – that was more obvious. Putting your show on the air was a mistake for everybody – especially NBC.

In any event, my great loyalty to you has gone totally unappreciated.

Sincerely, Donald J. Trump

P.S. Be careful or I will do a syndicated daytime show, perhaps called The Boardroom, and further destroy the meager ratings you already have!"


How could someone so rich and successful have such low self-esteem that they need to attract attention for themselves by needlessly putting someone down? The show was canceled so why does it even matter? Clearly, as you've so gracefully stated, Don, she was no serious threat to wondrous show. Get over yourself. You didn't paint the Mona Lisa, Jerk off. You had a popular reality show. Anyone with a pair of double D breasts can do that. So please, stick to what you're good at: toupes, marrying women half your age, and really ugly real estate.

Oh, and stop calling yourself "The Donald". No one needs that.

Has anyone noticed...

Has anyone noticed that rappers fight like a bunch of 15 yr old girls? Every time I turn around there's a new dis record out. I think Jay Z and Lindsay Lohan should team up to write some really harsh rhymes against Hillary Duff. Or I bet 50 cent could help Mary Kate get back at Paris for stealing her man.

Why when big black men act this way is it considered tough, but when young females do its immediately described as catty?? Not that I think a lot of the behavior going on amongst these female pseudo-celebs isn't catty, I just don't think that whats going on in the rap world isn't either.

But who am I to complain, I eat it up faster than the Japanese do hotdogs. So hand me a spoon because I heard Ashlee and Nas have got some serious beef going on.

My so called life

You know when you watch a movie and you think "this isn't how real life is"? You sit there laughing as the 28 year old prom queen drives through her perfect suburban town in her red corvette, or the dream guy races through the airport to stop his love from making "the biggest mistake of her life"? Well, sometimes that's how I feel about my own life. Sometimes I feel like its a little too ideal, that I have just too many great things going for me, that this just can't be real.

For anyone vaguely familiar with Chestnut Hill, Philadelphia, you've heard the jokes. You've probably heard how its filled with "wasps and snobs and old money". But Chestnut Hill isn't so surreal to me because of its prestige, history, or beauty. If you've ever spent a significant amount of time there you know that what makes Chestnut Hill so special is the amazing people who live their and the undeniable sense of community we all have. Although the stereotypes present themselves, the Hill is also filled with some of the funniest, most interesting, most caring people in the city. I've known many of them since childhood and my father knew many of their parents. Others I hadn't met until the past few years, but already they feel like family to me.

When I first came to college, a friend of mine looked at the pictures on my wall, her face contorted with confusion. "Ok, so I don't get it," she finally said. "how did you meet all these guys if you went to an all girls school?" I told her about CHA, our brother school, but then I also explained how my friends had gone to a variety of highschools all over the city. "well then how did you meet?" she asked only more confused. I shrugged my shoulders not really sure of the answer. "Around the neighborhood I guess" I finally managed to say.

To my friend this concept was so alien. For her, growing up in suburban New York, your friends went to your high school. Maybe you knew the names of a few other people from area schools if you played sports, but you certainly never interacted. She didn't understand living in a neighborhood where, at twelve years old, you already had a social network comparable to that of a thirty year old.

If you've been lucky enough to grow up in the neighborhood you know exactly what I'm talking about. Spend any night at Solaris, Toweys, or Hill Tavern and you'll most likely run into an old friend, someone you haven't seen in years but are so happy you did; Drive through the streets by the golf courses or the Watertower and you'll probably be able to spot a friend just by the car they're in, the same one they've been driving for years; Or just try walking into Wawa without seeing someone you know- trust me, it won't happen.

We all joke about how boring Chestnut Hill is, but try and name another neighborhood in Philly who has what we do. Sure, Manayunk has great nightlife and Society Hill has some gorgeous homes, but neither of them have the sense of community that's so present in Chestnut Hill. It's so rare to be able to walk to your friends house or to the store for some milk. It may sound old-fashioned but I wouldn't trade it for the world. So for everyone who wants to make the jokes, for all of you who stick your noses up at us for, well, sticking our noses up, that's fine. Maybe it makes us snobs, but if that's the way you feel, we don't want you anyways. But if you're willing to look past the stereotypes and get to know us, I think you'll find a group of people who, though slightly neurotic, are as welcoming as they come.

Are we there yet?

There are just too many exciting things to look forward to for me to possibly think about work.

I went to the library today for about 2 and a half hours to work on my English paper but I didn't manage to get much done. Ok, so only like 20 minutes of that time was actually spent on writing the paper, but why split hairs. Anyways, I hope you all liked the messages I left on your facebook walls.

Maybe I could have concentrated better If I hadn't been messaging back and forth with Katie and Becky about my upcoming trip to Penn State. I've known the Hops since I was like 4 but, since we both moved away from our old neighborhood over ten years ago, we've only seen each other once every few years. Luckily though, whenever we do get together, its like nothing's ever changed. And as my mom always says, that's how you know a true friend.

However, it wasn't just the fact that I was talking to them that got me so distracted but rather the topic of our conversation- my impending trip with Katie to Penn State. We'll be going with Betsy, another old friend of ours, to see Becky and to celebrate my cousin Trish's 19th bday. It's going to be a complete reunion- the first time the five of us have hung out together in over 5 years. And, I believe, the FIRST time we'll all be getting wasted together.

So all afternoon we've been posting messages about what ridiculous item from our past we'll be bringing with us- fun-dip, Huggies, sleeping-bags, Boogity, my brother's underwear (don't ask). Clearly, I can't be expected to concentrate on "how the association between war and masculinity is complicated in Regeneration" when my mind has been filled with thoughts of Piggly Wiggly!
Add in the fact that just a week from tomorrow I'll be traveling to BeanTown to see Aaron Karo with Liz, and the idea of me doing any type of work is pretty much impossible.

I'll apologize now because I'm pretty sure this will be the topic of my blog for the next few weeks. My mind can't seem to process anything beyond Boogity, Boston, beerpong, and bar tabs. Which isn't really a problem for me so much, but let's just hope my professors feel the same.

Motivation

I have absolutely no motivation.

And it kind of worries me. I'm four weeks into the semester and I still sit around everyday looking up who changed their facebook profile or adding stuff to my online shopping carts even though I have no money or intention to buy anything.

I don't know why I can't just buckle down and do what I need to do because it's not even that much work. But here I am letting it all build up. It's not that I think I won't get things done because I know I will, but I can't helping worrying that all of a sudden I'm going to be bombarded with deadlines.

Ofcourse, the fact that I'm going to see Aaron Karo in Boston next week isn't helping matters. It's completely taken over my life. That's just pathetic. Yes, I should be excited to see one of my favorite comedians. Yes, I should be f-ing pumped that I'll be doing so with Liz. But three hours? I could have written the paper I have due on Monday in half that time.

So as of tommorow I'm starting over. Thursday's probably bad timing to reevaluate my habits, being that its so close too the weekend which is when I'm most lazy, but if I don't start soon I never will. So tonight's my last night of wastefulness, and I plan to live it up to the fullest- edit my webshots, watch a little Biggest Loser, and check every single away message on my buddy list atleast 5 times. Oh, its gonna be a damn fine night!

My Daily Rant

I don't know how it took me this long, how I possibly could have overlooked such a piece of genius, a rare jem in a world of mediocrity, a work of art that will surely go down in history. Obviously, I could only be talking about one thing- Kevin Federline's "Popozoa".

I had heard all the jokes on the late night talk shows and such, but I hadn't come across a link to this song until earlier today. In case you haven't heard it yet, I'll have you know that it might possibly be the biggest piece of crap EVER. It sounds like something MC Hammer would have made after he dropped the MC and started wearing really provactive bathing suits in his videos. Except Kevin Federline couldn't even make a few hit singles before spiraling down into "Pumps n a Bump" territory.

Honestly, I think all the Kevin Federlines, Paris Hiltons, and Ashlee Simpsons need to be put on a boat and shipped off to a deserted island- kind of like how England did with all the dirty criminals several hundred years ago. All we need to do is find another Australia- though preferably one less sunny and exotic- so we can rid of all these talentless media whores. I remember when being white trash just got you some sweet lawn ornaments and a baby-daddy. I mean, that's how it worked for my grandmother and that's how it should work for them too!

Now, don't get me wrong. I think nepotism is great to an extent. But couldn't they have just gotten a sweet little office job working for Daddy/Wifey's company? That way, atleast, I wouldn't be subjected to their talentless whoring around whenever I try and watch E! at night. I mean, I'm trying to get updates on real artists like Lindsay Lohan and The Rock. Now is that too much to ask?

Indents

For some reason, my indentations are not showing up in my published blog. I'll try and figure out what I'm doing wrong but, until then, do your best figuring it all out.

My Cousin Jimmy

I have a lot of crazy cousins. But somewhere on the top of the list would definitely be my cousin Jimmy. He and his twin brother are infamous for their hard-partying ways. They're stories always sound more like something out of a highschool movie than a real life incident. They're in their early thirties now, but they can still party harder than most people I know. My brother and I look forward to hanging out with them because of the crazy shit that will inevitably occur. For example, here's what he emailed me about a recent weekend:

Our party was I'm sure no where near as fun as yours...Although it was open bar for 5 hours....The only thing I remember were three girls who wanted Tommy and I to take our hats off so they could see what we look like without them on, which Tom replied in a drunken and surly tone, "I'll take my hat off when you take your shirts off!!" To which they began to do....before the bartender flagged all of us!!!
I was so hungover the next morning, and I had to attend a brunch of a co-worker, who happens to have a supermodel daughter who was visiting from South Beach with three of her friends....mid-way through the brunch I had to excuse myself and vomit, which reverberated through the whole house....Needless to say I think I ruined my chances with the models! LOL!!!

I was exchanging these emails with Jim around the time of my twenty first birthday. The topic of his own twenty-first inevitably came up and I was amazed- no, in awe- of his story. It has had me cracking up for the past few weeks as I try to think of the actor that will play him when I eventually make this into an extremely successful film. So I thought I'd share it all with you. I think it'll give you a good laugh.


Ahhhh so glad to hear your 21st was a blast! True Story- On my 21st I made the insane decision to take a drive up into hillbilly (Punxsatawney)country at 3 in the morning, completely hammered and bombed out of gourd, in my new antique car....I almost killed myself three times, so I decided to pull into a bible belt church that was up on a hill....I went into the back of the church parking lot to pass out and get some sleep, I thought I put my car in park, I did not, so the Bel Air went racing wildly and out of control down through corn patch, cutting a swath through the entire corn field (meanwhile I am passed out the entire time) I wound up in a ditch at the bottom of the corn field with the front end of my car in a ditch and my back end entirely up in the air(mind you this was a mint condition antique car thatI just got that week)
I was awoken the next morning by a pastor dressed in all white and Triple AAA lifting my car out of the ditch.....I was sooo out of my mind drunk I thought I was dreaming the whole thing...The pastor then proceeded to take me into the church where service was going on....so picture me...completely out of my mind, blood shot eyes, stinking like stale beer, in sweaty clothes...and a church full of bible waving freaks staring at me....The music stopped for a second and then continued , as the pastor took me into the bathroom to get me cleaned up, I vomited and then passed out in the sacristy...
I woke up at like 4 in the afternoon and the had dinner with the pastor and his family.....most bizarre day of my life...well at least in the top ten!!!!!!! LOL!!

Yeah, by the way, this guy's a teacher. Pick your children's schools carefully ladies and gentlemen.

Study Abroad Essay

Here at Manhattan College, in order to study abroad you need to submit a one page easy. It's not so much a qualifying factor as it is an annoying formality. I guess they want to make sure you're serious enough about spending four months in a foreign country that you'll take ten minutes to type out some bull. So here's what I wrote this afternoon. I figured I might as well take advantage of it and put it up as a blog since I haven't been doing so well with creating some posts. So here's my little essay about "Why I Want to Study in Madrid". It's all a lie. But I don't think " I want to drink a lot of sangrias and meet some sexy exotic men" would have sounded as good.



I have always been an explorer. When I was a toddler, just learning to stand and crawl and walk, my parents gave me the nickname "Houdini". Though I was barely mobile, I had already found numerous ways to escape my crib, car seat, and high chair. Fences had to be put up in my back yard, and the child lock was always turned on in the car. Down the Jersey Shore one summer, I became so restless while attending dinner at a family friend's that I stood up unannounced and snuck home. This would not have been such a big deal had it not required crossing one of the busiest streets in town and had I not been only three years old at the time.
My curiosity for the new and exciting continued to develop as I got older. In elementary school, most of my friends planned on attending one of two local catholic high schools. I, however, was reluctant to continue at a school so similar to the one I had just spent the last eight years attending. I wanted to go somewhere with diverse people and new practices. Though I adored my friends from grade school,couldn't help wondering who and what else was out there. I finally decided on a liberal all girls' private school far different from the coed catholic elementary school I had attended. Though no one else in my graduating class would be joining me, I had no apprehensions over beginning a unique and unknown territory. And in my four years there, I know I learned and experience things I never would have had I stayed with my peers from my childhood.
Since graduating high school, I have continued my "quest", visiting numerous cities in the United States as well as several foreign countries, including Miami, Charleston, Puerto Rico, France and Ireland. Yet, though I've seen a lot, I'm still eager to explore. I want to see as much as possible, learn as much as possible, and accomplish as much as possible. I have a great appreciation for this expansive and diverse world we live in, and I want to discover everything there is about it. Because I have always been so drawn to the new and unknown, I have learned early on that there are many different ways of living and that everywhere you go you can find something fresh and exciting.
A semester in Spain, a country of such great history and culture, would undoubtedly provide me with a wealth of new experiences. I look forward to eating exotic foods, learning rare dances, and, most importantly, conquering a foreign language, one I have been struggling to master for several years. Studying abroad has always been a great dream of mine, and like my many other aspirations, I plan to tackle it with great determination, curiosity, and enthusiasm.