Thursday, November 23, 2006

Long time! No see!

I didn't blog for like a week. Oops. It was partly an accident, but the end result is, I'm not eligible to go forward in NaBloPoMo. What can I say? It was worth it, though.

It happened like this. Last Wednesday, I made spur of the moment plans to meet up with a few of my friends after work. By that time it was already almost 7pm and I was aware that I only had 5 more hours left to blog. We went to a hookah bar near my school called Sahara East, where we enjoyed falafels, fries, overpriced drinks, oh - and hookah. We left at around 10:30, and I now only had an hour and a half to blog, but get this: I had forgotten all about it. We trekked our way to one of our friends' dorms on Canal Street and here is a block to represent the information of what happened there for the next 3 hours which I'm not allowed to talk about on this public blog:



And suddenly it was already Thursday and I hadn't blogged. Shit. But then Thursday was my last day of work and when I got home I had to get ready for a film shoot that was taking place on Friday, and by Saturday I was so pooped from the film shoot that I slept until 4 in the afternoon and hardly even turned on my computer, and Sunday I was out of the apartment all day and ate a really big dinner and Monday I don't even remember what happened on Monday.

Which brings us to today, which happens to be Thanksgiving. I'm sitting at the dining room table in my parents' house, looking into the kitchen where the oven is. Inside the oven is a turkey. It's warm here.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Why you gotta Ph.D -

Playa hatin' degree.

I see some of the professors in my elective courses writing their dissertations and stuff, and it's brainaching. How do they do that? Write long papers about things no one cares about in the real world? Academia! I'm glad to have never visited that place.

Should I go to law school?

(What a sell out.)

Monday, November 13, 2006

SLEEP IN!

This Friday, the 17th of November, I will be able to sleep in for the first morning in many mornings. I've had to wake up early every day, weekends included, nonstop, for so long. I'm so excited. But I definitely have to be up and running by 4pm Friday as I'll have people over. So I'll set my alarm for 3:30pm! Haha!

Sunday, November 12, 2006

21 Things College Has Taught Me

  1. Never take a class that starts before 9am.
  2. Friday classes are for nerds.
  3. By junior year, no one has not done drugs, gotten drunk, or had sex.
  4. At least 30% of your classmates have gone to class drunk or high.
  5. Everyone can use a cigarette, if you offer one.
  6. All papers are written, projects are done, and tests are studied for, over the course of one night.
  7. The hours between midnight and class the next day are plenty, plenty of time to get what needs to be done, done.
  8. Appointments to meet with advisors are totally non-mandatory.
  9. Do not try to fool the security guards. They can see that the friend you're sneaking in is holding up an ID for a totally different university. And when they ask to see it more up close, casually slipping your own ID to your friend will be noticed.
  10. Most professors google themselves on a regular basis and then talk about the results to the class.
  11. Some professors can't tell the difference between two Asian girls, even if one doesn't go to college in the first place.
  12. Some professors will stop class and force you to throw out your salad because it smells.
  13. Some professors will pay you to buy them candy, each class.
  14. Some professors will sleep with you if you ask.
  15. Some professors will try to seduce you because they feel like it.
  16. Everyone knows about the professors who have sex with their students, including the names of those students and what kind of STDs were transmitted between them.
  17. If you slip a "change of grade" form in your previous professor's mailbox, he might actually change your grade (if you're lucky).
  18. Everyone talks about you behind your back. And you, theirs.
  19. Going to art school automatically means you're on bad terms with the business school kids. And why not? What a bunch of losers.
  20. Going to art school is a bad decision for those who want financially stable careers. This is a fact that is unknown until senior year, when everyone else is taking the LSAT or the GMAT and we're left fiddling with cameras and scripts.
  21. No one else knows what the hell they're doing in college, nor what they're doing once they graduate.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

"You only live once!"

is what the shoe salesman told us, while refusing to name the price of the Coach boots he was offering my mother so urgently. My mom and I went shopping today, as is usual for our precious Saturdays together. On the agenda today were winter boots, and we went all out (for our budgets, that is). My mom ended up getting the Coach boots, which is a big deal because hello, they're Coach and you're wearing them on your feet? And I got these. I'm all set for the winter, baby! New York City snowstorms, have at me. I'm talkin' to you, pollution-soaked slush!

Friday, November 10, 2006

Home

It's weird to be at home now. I have trouble differentiating between my two homes when I tell people, "I'm going home" or "I'm at home." Home is where I live most of the time, but home is also where my parents live. I still have my room in my parents' house, my desk is still there, my bookshelf, dressers. In place of the bed I took with me to my new apartment, there's an Aerobed, which I sleep on when I visit on the weekends. It's a little difficult for me to refer to this home as my parents' house. I still feel that it's home for me, too. But I'm finding that as the weeks go on, I'm getting used to the thought of my apartment as home. I'm not sure if I like this realization.

Seeing my parents over the weekends after being away from them for a mere 5 days makes a huge difference. I get more weary of their conversations, annoyed at their comparisons as to who is in more physical pain from what, angry at how uptight they still are about everything in the world, sad at how much of this I'm missing while I'm out living the hedonistic city life. I kind of miss coming to this home after long days at school, my mom staying up and microwaving me some leftovers, being able to talk to them because they would listen.

I think that's why I've been reluctant to think of my new apartment as my home. There's nothing home-like about it, except that I return to it after my obligations outside are finished, and I leave it in the morning. The door is never unlocked or open, inviting me in. There's no one on the other side turning the doorknob right as I reach for it. The lights are always off - I enter into pitch blackness. The kitchen has been abandoned and is lost beyond all hope. The sound of the TV just confirms the blaring silence.

So now I know the reason why my brother, after living alone for years, wanted me to start living with him as he started his new job. So that when he comes home, the lights would be on for him, there would be sounds of the TV or music coming from my room, I would be there for him to talk to, and I would listen.

But it just doesn't do it for me.

Thursday, November 09, 2006

For Your Consideration

Tonight I got into an advanced screening of "For Your Consideration" which comes out next week. I recommend it. I don't like spoiling things for people, so just go and watch it. I was pleasantly surprised when Ricky Gervais showed up in it, because I had forgotten he was in it.

There was drama at work today. One of the filmmakers asked one of the executive assistants where the restroom was, and I guess the assistant didn't respond so nicely. When the filmmaker got out of the restroom, the assistant asked, "Did you say something to me before?" And a fight erupted. Attitudes and "WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?!" and "WHAT'S YOUR PROBLEM?!" galore. It was a nice start to a miserable work day as usual. Set the tone very nicely.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

A day off....from what?

Today I decided to take the day off and do nothing. I had to haul my ass to jury selection by 8:30am which was probably one of the hugest struggles of the week so far. Upon notifying them that I no longer live in that particular county, I was sent back home where I immediately went back to sleep. I blew off class and work for this beautiful, rainy day, in favor of sleeping and eating Chinese food and wishing I was more productive.

You see, this is a metaphor for my life. I'd rather be sleeping than accomplishing anything (other than more sleep). What makes it so easy to do this is that all of my friends are just like me. I can't think of one friend who'd rather study or apply to grad schools over sleeping or doing some form of bodily harm in order to attain a level of intoxication and/or hallucination. For example, while I was sleeping I received a text message from my friend from school who wanted to how much shrooms cost. Do I know? Hell no! I am better off than her and that makes me glad. But I wish someone would do something about this lack of ambition we have.

I spoke to my dad on the phone earlier today, still groggy from sleep, and he kindly informed me that I should get going on my future. Am I going to law school? Am I getting a job? Just what the fuck am I doing? At this point I have no idea. I know as far as next week, and even that is a little shady. To be honest, I'd like to be a heiress or a rich kid in general. I don't say that because I just want good material things and an easy life, I mean that there are monetary obstacles that prevent me from doing what I want to do, therefore I do nothing. It's stupid logic, but the thought of how much debt I'll be in when I graduate in May is paralyzing. And then to seriously consider grad school? To double my debt? A no talent like Paris Hilton can write books, act in movies, and sing songs (I use the terms "write", "act" and "sing" very loosely) but a private-university-educated person like me is stuck in debt and with no outlets for the creativity I was supposedly honing in school.

Alright, I finally planned what I'm doing today. I predict that I'll go to Starbucks down the road and work on some homework. If only I had the motivation to lift myself off of this chair.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Connections

Given my age and lack of experience, you'd think people wouldn't just want to drop their contact information and "talent" onto me as if I could do something for them. I was at the grocery store down the block, and the guy at the deli counter made a joke about what I was buying from him (2 chicken breaded breasts) - "Is this dinner?" And I answered him honestly, that I don't cook because I don't have the time. Of course he then asked me if I went to school, and then what I study.

Sometimes I hate telling people what my major is. In the beginning, no one would be able to understand what I was actually saying (Germanic writing?). So then I revised the official title of my major to be what it actually is: screenwriting. But then there were some people who (I kid you not) asked what that was. Writing plays? Shudder, no. Now I tell people it's "film writing" because you can't go wrong with that. And then the dams open and suddenly I'm shouldering the responsibilities of a dozen "aspiring" somethings. I'm an aspiring bottle of water. So what?

The guy at the deli counter. His face broke into a smile and said that that's what I want to do! I smiled back politely, my mind struggling in defeat - it was starting, the downward battle between me and a dream-filled, inspiration-filled, newest genius in filmmaking. Could I look at his screenplays? He has like 73 different ideas. Whole buckets full of material. Money saved up to buy a Canon XL. No physical film to show me yet, though. Do I have a card?

Then he mentioned that he has ideas for something that rang bells in my head. I'm interning at a big name studio, and my supervisors told me that if I ever come across something good, not to run away from it and to invite new talent. Upon hearing that I intern there, the deli guy gave me 3 phone numbers - he doesn't have email. He reminded me, "You have a boyfriend, right? Well, make sure he doesn't see this paper and think I'm hitting on you! This is strictly business." Underneath his phone numbers, he wrote "Aspiring Filmmaker."

Wink wink, wide smile, nod of the head.

Who knows? Maybe he's the next big thing.

Monday, November 06, 2006

Distance learning.

So, my boyfriend is driving back home to Ohio. I'm stuck here on this lonely island. Both of us are slowly having to adapt again to our university student lifestyles. All day I've had a throbbing headache; my body's unsure of what to make of the hedonistic nonstopness of last week. I have an annoying amount of schoolwork to do. In a word, bleak. Or, BLECH.

We've got a long distance relationship. Although we went to the same high school, he's in Cincinnati and I stayed in New York. I hate that term, long distance relationship. It's got dreadful connotations... sad phone calls, rare visits, expensive airfare, general missing and yearning. My previous relationship was also long distance. It involved two or three annual visits, wrathful phone calls (wrathful on my end, meek and passive on his), and I'd constantly nitpick at all the things that were wrong about him. 2 and a half years into the relationship, I got back in touch with Lex, also referred to as Alyosha (his real name is Aleksey), through Facebook. Facebook connects everyone. He was everything I was looking for, and still is. Unfortunately, he's 700 miles away. Fortunately, he's agressive, loves to speed, and loves me. That makes for a delightful combination that equals in us seeing each other pretty often for a long distance relationship.

For those that believe long distance doesn't work, I can agree, but only because long distance is a factor just like any other setback in any relationship. It doesn't work when it becomes the one defining factor. With that said, it's always depressing when he leaves. But always the optimist, he always reminds me that we're lucky to have someone to miss. Yeah, we are. And I believe we'll be a success story. Don't you just hate those?

Sunday, November 05, 2006

Cures.

I'm sick. But I find that the best cure for this isn't just medication. Watching "The Simpsons" on my bed with my boyfriend while eating Chinese and drinking diet coke spiked with bacardi 151 is probably the best cure. I still haven't had a real chance to sit in front of my laptop yet, but since he's leaving tomorrow to go back to school (booooo), I'm sure I'll have plenty of time on my hands to spent blogging.

Saturday, November 04, 2006

Haiku.

week of many sins
no rest for us, the reckless;
sleep is for the weak.

(don't worry. i'm paying for it all.)

Friday, November 03, 2006

And so it begins. Again!

Recovering from last night's billiards and bitch drink fest, the boyfriend and I decided to bring along a couple friends to head to...Mohegan Sun! It's Friday, after all. And at this rate, everyday is filled with meaningful ceremony that must be celebrated. What, you've never heard of S.H.I.T.? So Happy It's Thursday, of course. The possibilities are tittilating. Tantalizing. Tutu.

So I'm postponing posting pictures and/or video(s) until I have a moment to sit at my laptop. At the mo I'm on my sidekick again, slightly tipsy, digesting Wendy's as quickly as possible to make comfortable room for a bottle of Hpnotiq. Oh, nablopomo.

Thursday, November 02, 2006

I spy.

"Are you blogging this? For...na...blo...pomo?" says Alyosha. We're mucking our way through midtown traffic as we try to get to my apartment. Atlantic City was fun, and hopefully I'll put up a video later tonite or tomorrow. Right now, however, we're finishing up a long drive (part of which I was tipsy/passed out and/or eating fro-yo), and as soon as we drop our bags at the apartment we're heading out again to spend a night out with friends. So details to follow.

In the meantime, I leave you with a riddle. Alyosha and I were playing I Spy to kill some time and he came up with one that really stumped me. Eventually I got it, but here are the clues...

"I spy with my little eye, something that starts with the letter 'p'. You have to put things in them otherwise they stop moving. They have different colored coverings. They look different depending on weather; when it's cold, they look bigger."

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

The calm before the really really awesome storm.

I'm blogging through my sidekick as we drive to A.C. The foliage is amazing here, especially with the sun just about to set. We're hoping we can get to the hotel in time for sunset so if there's a roof deck, we can have one of those cliched romantic moments.

Any bets on which of the five levels of inebriation will be reached tonite? Buzzed - tipsy - drunk - hammered - smashed? I'm very curious myself.