Dear "Smart" Phone,
There are many components to intelligence. One of those components is social intelligence.
So, even though you knew it was my ex-anniversary today, would it have killed you to keep that information to yourself? Nice touch with the fancy alert, by the way.
Sincerely,
Dumb owner
August 29, 2011
August 26, 2011
None...Taken?
A "No Offense But--" statement is pretty much always followed by something offensive.
After a 2 month hiatus, I decided to come home for the weekend.
While cruising the freeway, I heard the following song lyrics:
Now I think it’s time, hey shawty
I hope you don’t take this the wrong way
Girl you look better with the lights off
That's the type of thing one can say about oneself, jokingly (ie: turn off the lights because operating-room lights do not set the mood), but if someone said that to me, I'd probably book it out of there pretty quick.
After a 2 month hiatus, I decided to come home for the weekend.
While cruising the freeway, I heard the following song lyrics:
Now I think it’s time, hey shawty
I hope you don’t take this the wrong way
Girl you look better with the lights off
That's the type of thing one can say about oneself, jokingly (ie: turn off the lights because operating-room lights do not set the mood), but if someone said that to me, I'd probably book it out of there pretty quick.
August 23, 2011
Non-vague
Okay, fine, I will break my vow of vagueness to tell you about two amazing songs I discovered in the last few days (they're not super new, but I've been living under a rock). Copy and paste the links -- embedding a video seemed like it would require more effort/energy than I have at this point in the day.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rH_7_XRfTMs
Sprawl II - Arcade Fire. Kind of Electro-poppy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwRvuwUO-DI
Stay Young, Go Dancing- Death Cab for Cutie
Pretty and sad, almost sounds like Elliott Smith.
Easy listening at its finest, folks.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rH_7_XRfTMs
Sprawl II - Arcade Fire. Kind of Electro-poppy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwRvuwUO-DI
Stay Young, Go Dancing- Death Cab for Cutie
Pretty and sad, almost sounds like Elliott Smith.
Easy listening at its finest, folks.
August 20, 2011
All Dressed Up
I got a manicure/pedicure today with my sister (happy birthday!), a cousin (/second cousin?) visiting from Philly, and a few of their friends. I don't think I've ever gotten the full treatment before. It was a fun get-together, but it reminded me of something...
I'll explain by recounting a traumatic teenage memory:
I was 17. I had recently become captain of the song squad (NOT cheer), which significantly enhanced my social status (I chalk it up to increased exposure...I certainly wasn't trying any harder). One day, a very popular boy personally invited me to his birthday party. (This was back before Facebook, so invitations were a big deal). It was going to be a big house party on a Saturday night, and more likely than not there was to be a good deal of drinking and drugs. I didn't party much, and wasn't into drinking or drugs, but I was pretty stoked just to be included. This could be my big social debut.
Two of my songleader friends were invited as well, so we decided we'd all go together.
Saturday night arrived. I'd recently taken a class at my dance studio about performance makeup (ie- makeup that can be seen from 50 feet away), and I found that these skills translated wonderfully for party makeup. Once my face was plastered on, hair ironed flat as a board, and outfit assembled, I called my friend to get an ETA. No answer. I fiddled around on the computer for a while, wasting time. My phone wasn't ringing. I tried calling a few times over the next 3 or 4 hours. 'Maybe we're being fashionably late on purpose' I thought. More time passed. My mom saw me sitting on the couch, all dressed up, and asked me when I was going out.
Finally, at around midnight, my friend called. She was already at the party, and sounded drunk. "I thought you said you were meeting us here," she slurred. Lies. I knew that I'd never in a thousand years agree to show up at a party by myself and find my friends in the crowd.
"Just come meet us," she suggested, "but just to warn you, I don't know how long we're staying."
There was no way I was going over there alone. I hung up the phone, and thought about how much I'd been looking forward to this party. I walked by a mirror and became acutely aware of the fact that I'd spent hours getting ready, only to spend the night sitting in the living room doing nothing. My mom offered to take a walk with me, so I could at least feel like I'd left the house. Good idea in theory, but I looked way to whore-y to leave the house and not go to a party.
All dressed up with nowhere to go. Ever since that traumatic Saturday night many years ago, I've been hypersensitive to this phenomenon.
Back to today: after getting our nails done, all the girls stood in a circle discussing their evening plans (parties/weddings) and how their nails would match their outfits. I realized that, while my nails were all dressed up, I had nowhere to go.
After I was dropped back at my apartment, I took off my 'I-put-effort-into-my-appearance' outfit in favor of pajamas. Now, I'm sitting on the couch, watching TV in my pajamas, hoping that my nicely dressed-up nails survive long enough for someone to actually see them.
I'll explain by recounting a traumatic teenage memory:
I was 17. I had recently become captain of the song squad (NOT cheer), which significantly enhanced my social status (I chalk it up to increased exposure...I certainly wasn't trying any harder). One day, a very popular boy personally invited me to his birthday party. (This was back before Facebook, so invitations were a big deal). It was going to be a big house party on a Saturday night, and more likely than not there was to be a good deal of drinking and drugs. I didn't party much, and wasn't into drinking or drugs, but I was pretty stoked just to be included. This could be my big social debut.
Two of my songleader friends were invited as well, so we decided we'd all go together.
Saturday night arrived. I'd recently taken a class at my dance studio about performance makeup (ie- makeup that can be seen from 50 feet away), and I found that these skills translated wonderfully for party makeup. Once my face was plastered on, hair ironed flat as a board, and outfit assembled, I called my friend to get an ETA. No answer. I fiddled around on the computer for a while, wasting time. My phone wasn't ringing. I tried calling a few times over the next 3 or 4 hours. 'Maybe we're being fashionably late on purpose' I thought. More time passed. My mom saw me sitting on the couch, all dressed up, and asked me when I was going out.
Finally, at around midnight, my friend called. She was already at the party, and sounded drunk. "I thought you said you were meeting us here," she slurred. Lies. I knew that I'd never in a thousand years agree to show up at a party by myself and find my friends in the crowd.
"Just come meet us," she suggested, "but just to warn you, I don't know how long we're staying."
There was no way I was going over there alone. I hung up the phone, and thought about how much I'd been looking forward to this party. I walked by a mirror and became acutely aware of the fact that I'd spent hours getting ready, only to spend the night sitting in the living room doing nothing. My mom offered to take a walk with me, so I could at least feel like I'd left the house. Good idea in theory, but I looked way to whore-y to leave the house and not go to a party.
All dressed up with nowhere to go. Ever since that traumatic Saturday night many years ago, I've been hypersensitive to this phenomenon.
Back to today: after getting our nails done, all the girls stood in a circle discussing their evening plans (parties/weddings) and how their nails would match their outfits. I realized that, while my nails were all dressed up, I had nowhere to go.
After I was dropped back at my apartment, I took off my 'I-put-effort-into-my-appearance' outfit in favor of pajamas. Now, I'm sitting on the couch, watching TV in my pajamas, hoping that my nicely dressed-up nails survive long enough for someone to actually see them.
August 18, 2011
Trauma Averted
Today was supposed to be Birthday Cake Thursday.
BCT happens once a month at the office to celebrate the birthdays of everyone born that month. It consists of six different Baskin Robbins ice cream cakes in various flavors (and the break from work that goes with it).
The festivities were scheduled for 3pm today. Because I am me, I was counting on BCT to be the highlight of my work week.
At 2:45 pm, the office received a mass email that the Baskin Robbins employee in charge of our cake order had gone on vacation and not told anyone else about the order. So no cakes were made. Instead, there were two very small containers of unwashed grapes and strawberries.
So what did I do? I came home from work and concocted a mint cookie crunch/brownie/chocolate banana split. For dinner.
Philosophical tid-bit of the day: When life hands you strawberries and grapes...make a banana split.
BCT happens once a month at the office to celebrate the birthdays of everyone born that month. It consists of six different Baskin Robbins ice cream cakes in various flavors (and the break from work that goes with it).
The festivities were scheduled for 3pm today. Because I am me, I was counting on BCT to be the highlight of my work week.
At 2:45 pm, the office received a mass email that the Baskin Robbins employee in charge of our cake order had gone on vacation and not told anyone else about the order. So no cakes were made. Instead, there were two very small containers of unwashed grapes and strawberries.
So what did I do? I came home from work and concocted a mint cookie crunch/brownie/chocolate banana split. For dinner.
Philosophical tid-bit of the day: When life hands you strawberries and grapes...make a banana split.
August 15, 2011
August 12, 2011
Do you hear that sound?
That's the sound of my social life/free time taking it its last few breaths.
I just got the notification that I've been approved by the CPA board to sit for exams.
Which means that I can/should/must start studying for the exams.
Goodbye free nights. Goodbye lazy weekends. I will miss you for the next 9-12 months.
I just got the notification that I've been approved by the CPA board to sit for exams.
Which means that I can/should/must start studying for the exams.
Goodbye free nights. Goodbye lazy weekends. I will miss you for the next 9-12 months.
August 9, 2011
Editor-in-Chief
You may have noticed that this blog never goes into detail about my day-to-day life. This is no accident.
As a kid, my mom used to pick me up from school. Every afternoon, she'd ask me, "what did you do in school today?" I always had one of two answers:
. . .
In fact, 'nothing' or 'stuff' was my answer to a lot of questions when I was a kid. My mom joked that I should write for Vague Magazine (a take-off on Vogue- I was quite the fashion plate back in the day).
Now that I'm (relatively) grown up, this blog is my Vague Magazine, but I'm not just a writer. I'm the editor-in-chief. My posts are centered around ideas and theories rather than specific events. Notice that, while I go into detail, I never go into detail (example: the previous post. I've already been asked what song I was talking about, but I think that's beside the point).
A friend and reader whose opinion I value once thanked me for creating a blog that isn't weighed down by details. Ironically, in most aspects of my life, I'm extremely detail-oriented. Just not here.
So readers, I hope you vaguely enjoy reading about the world inside my head.
Sincerely,
The Editor-In-Chief
As a kid, my mom used to pick me up from school. Every afternoon, she'd ask me, "what did you do in school today?" I always had one of two answers:
- "Stuff."
- "Nothing."
. . .
In fact, 'nothing' or 'stuff' was my answer to a lot of questions when I was a kid. My mom joked that I should write for Vague Magazine (a take-off on Vogue- I was quite the fashion plate back in the day).
Now that I'm (relatively) grown up, this blog is my Vague Magazine, but I'm not just a writer. I'm the editor-in-chief. My posts are centered around ideas and theories rather than specific events. Notice that, while I go into detail, I never go into detail (example: the previous post. I've already been asked what song I was talking about, but I think that's beside the point).
A friend and reader whose opinion I value once thanked me for creating a blog that isn't weighed down by details. Ironically, in most aspects of my life, I'm extremely detail-oriented. Just not here.
So readers, I hope you vaguely enjoy reading about the world inside my head.
Sincerely,
The Editor-In-Chief
August 8, 2011
Music School
There are two schools of music:
1. Songs that you don't really care for at first. Maybe it's a sound you aren't used to. Over time, you grow to like it. Over more time, you grow to like it a lot. Occasionally, when you hear the song, you think about the fact that you used to not like it and wonder what was wrong with you back then.
2. Songs that you love immdiately- no questions asked. Upon first listen, you stop dead in your tracks and say to yourself (either aloud or not, depending on where you are), 'holy shit, this song is amazing!' Then you listen to it 4 or 5 more times, just to make sure your ears aren't deceiving you.
I just got #2'd.
Location: stationary bike (yes, I do occasionally cheat on the elliptical)
Time: approximately 9pm
I am very sad that this song is too new to be on the radio and I don't have an ipod plug-in because loud music+driving=my nirvana.
August 7, 2011
Highlight
Roommate has a lady friend visiting from out of town. I anticipated feeling like a total third wheel. Not the case. We've spent the last two nights eating way too much, watching hilarious television shows and youtubes and sitting on our porch (I do allow them alone time during the day, so I'm not a total cock block).
Tonight was fun. Roommate decided that we wanted to record a drunk history video (youtube it). To create a proper drunk history, you need to get REALLY drunk. And he did.
The video was funny- a somewhat historically accurate story about 'nam. Then it got late, and lady friend wanted to go to bed.
I stayed on the couch for a while. Through the living room wall, I distinctly heard roommate say, "there's no way it's gonna happen tonight."
I bet lady friend is not pleased. But I am quite amused.
:P
Tonight was fun. Roommate decided that we wanted to record a drunk history video (youtube it). To create a proper drunk history, you need to get REALLY drunk. And he did.
The video was funny- a somewhat historically accurate story about 'nam. Then it got late, and lady friend wanted to go to bed.
I stayed on the couch for a while. Through the living room wall, I distinctly heard roommate say, "there's no way it's gonna happen tonight."
I bet lady friend is not pleased. But I am quite amused.
:P
August 2, 2011
Total Immersion
My first year of college, it was required that each student take a "Freshman Foundations" course. I chose a sociology course, taught by an existentialist professor who spent the semester convincing the class that free will was a myth and our desires were entirely driven by advertisements and the media. Don't get me wrong, it was a great class, but I took some of what he said with a grain of salt. (Like that I have no control over my thoughts).
Fast forward to about two weeks ago. I was relaxing on the porch with my roommates, and one told an interesting story. He said that Chris Brown had accidentally slipped the double-mint gum slogan into his song, "Forever," and instead of a lawsuit, Wrigley decided to make Brown a spokesman.
I wiki'd the story for accuracy:
"Forever" is actually an extended version of a commercial jingle for Doublemint gum, commissioned by an advertising company working for Wrigley. Brown first created the short version for the commercial, then extended and amended it into a full song during a recording session in February 2008, which was paid for by the gum company.[2]
Wha? So a song was commissioned by an ad company? Interesting...
Fast forward to today at work. Some of my team members were talking about how Pitbull's song "Give Me Everything" was so awful because he rhymed the word Kodak with...(wait for it)...Kodak. Google the lyrics. They are dumb. I promise.
Luckily, at work we have access to lots of inside information (what ad agencies work with which companies, contract terms and compensation information). We did some research, and, sure enough, Pitbull has a contract with Kodak. Burned again!
I have noticed an increase of ads in places ads shouldn't be. In a TV show, the camera will zoom in on whatever brand of drink the characters are drinking or the type of car they're driving in the epic chase scene (is the fact that a Ford Focus out-drove the evil vampires relevant?).
The line between ads and other forms of entertainment is blurring. (One point for existentialist professor.) However, despite what has been shoved down my throat through the radio and TV waves, I still have no desire to chew double-mint gum or use/buy Kodak products. Let's call this one a draw.
Fast forward to about two weeks ago. I was relaxing on the porch with my roommates, and one told an interesting story. He said that Chris Brown had accidentally slipped the double-mint gum slogan into his song, "Forever," and instead of a lawsuit, Wrigley decided to make Brown a spokesman.
I wiki'd the story for accuracy:
"Forever" is actually an extended version of a commercial jingle for Doublemint gum, commissioned by an advertising company working for Wrigley. Brown first created the short version for the commercial, then extended and amended it into a full song during a recording session in February 2008, which was paid for by the gum company.[2]
Wha? So a song was commissioned by an ad company? Interesting...
Fast forward to today at work. Some of my team members were talking about how Pitbull's song "Give Me Everything" was so awful because he rhymed the word Kodak with...(wait for it)...Kodak. Google the lyrics. They are dumb. I promise.
Luckily, at work we have access to lots of inside information (what ad agencies work with which companies, contract terms and compensation information). We did some research, and, sure enough, Pitbull has a contract with Kodak. Burned again!
I have noticed an increase of ads in places ads shouldn't be. In a TV show, the camera will zoom in on whatever brand of drink the characters are drinking or the type of car they're driving in the epic chase scene (is the fact that a Ford Focus out-drove the evil vampires relevant?).
The line between ads and other forms of entertainment is blurring. (One point for existentialist professor.) However, despite what has been shoved down my throat through the radio and TV waves, I still have no desire to chew double-mint gum or use/buy Kodak products. Let's call this one a draw.
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