| Two Things |
[Apr. 18th, 2007|02:39 pm] |
I know I haven't posted in 82 million years, and this is kind of a bizarre way to pick it back up, but two funny things happened recently that I don't want to forget.
First of all, I get up before Pete in the mornings and make coffee and take my shower and then I wake him up about 8. This morning when I went to wake him up, and he turned away from me, sleepily murmuring, "What are we learning today?"
"What?" I responded.
"What's on my lesson sheet for today?" he asked.
"WHAT?"
Then he woke up enough to say, "Oh, I was having a dream I was in ninja school."
Also, a few weeks ago I was in a cab with my little sister and we were talking about movies. I told her I wanted to go see "Pride" (the black swimmer movie with Terrance Howard) and she said she'd already seen it with her class. "You were supposed to wait for me so we could see it together!" I said.
"In that movie-Well, I don't want to ruin it for you," she cut herself off. So I'll just tell you ONE thing."
She took a deep breath. "They struggle."
Now everytime I watch any movie I think of the main character, "He really struggles," or when watching a trailer for an inspirational sports drama, "I bet they struggle." It makes me giggle every time. |
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[Jan. 18th, 2007|01:13 pm] |
Dear Manufacturers of Weight Watchers "Smart Ones" Meals:
I appreciate your tasty and calorie-efficient meals, because they are easy to take to work and eat for lunch. However, while I was reading the box for the Lasagna Florentine while I microwaved it for such an inordinate time I had to wonder if there could possibly be any nutritional value left, I couldn't help but notice its description of "five decadent layers."
Decadent is snorting coke off a hooker's ass in a hotel suite in vegas while she drizzles chocolate on her own nipples, not a layer of pasta with some fat-free cheese on it.
Thanks,
Emily |
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[Oct. 27th, 2006|09:21 am] |
I have decided to take a karate class, mostly because I want a physial outlet for my anger, and also because I think it will be empowering to learn a form of self-defense, but even though those are like, really serious and good reasons, I can't stop thinking about...
how cute I am gonna look in that little outfit!
Will I look THIS cute?
Or maybe THIS cute?
Or could I possibly look THIS cute?
The possibilities are endless! |
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[Oct. 18th, 2006|09:41 am] |
Last night cousin Sara and I donned hoodies and ran through the rain to a seedy deli nearby her house in Bedstuy in pursuit of pizza money and beer. As we punched our pins into the ATM, Sara told me a story of approaching this deli's counter only to have the clerk ask her in creative
English, "Hey...uh, you drink?"
To which she, being a member of the same family from which I am spawned, responded in the affirmative, causing the clerk to whip out a bottle of whiskey and proceed to pour two shots, which they downed together while the line grew behind her.
This, combined with the festive Spanish music that's always blaring and the clerk's propensity towards dancing behind the counter led us to christen it "the party deli."
As we bought our beer and Cheez Doodles, the man behind the counter started gesturing to something in front of us. After several attempts we didn't know what he was trying to tell us, so his friend came around and pulled a 6-pack of Corona out of the ice cream freezer. He proceeded to pull out two plastic cups, pour us each a half of a beer, toast us, and bag our stuff. Walking back out into the rain with our plastic bags and our cups of beer, our giggling got out of control when Sara inquired, "Did he just gives us ROADIES?"
God bless a country where a man will hand you beer to tide you over the 2 blocks before you get home to drink the beer you just bought. |
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[Aug. 22nd, 2006|10:16 am] |
Unlike the majority of women who carry their weight in their ass and hips, mine has always gone right to the spare tire around my middle. Other females in my family are built the same way – we have thin, shapely legs, somewhat flat asses, boyish hips, and chubby winking bellies.
Throughout my life this has been a source of consternation – it has always seemed a particularly unattractive place to carry extra weight ,and on a few occasions has led misunderstandings wherein some guy in a bar asks me if I’m pregnant even though I’m drinking Miller Lite like its Gatorade and I’m in a marathon.
But lately I’ve started to sort of embrace the chubby belly.
I like belly rubs, tight belly-accentuating tops, and I really love to find a similarly-bellied man and rub our fat bellies together. Big asses are in fashion and many people enjoy thick womanly hips, so where’s the belly love? The chubby belly is so unpopular that when I tried to find pictures to demonstrate all I got were chubby bellies on little babies, pregnant women (pregnancy seems to be the only time of life when women are allowed to love their bellies), and even a kitten. Adorable, but this is not the only kind of cute chubby belly!
My belly pride is not overtly political, by the way. I say this because I remember a particular BUST intern who had an impressive belly that she liked to display nearly every day in cutoff tops. A good start, but her dour and humorless personality made it pretty clear her display was a calculated political statement about the social acceptability of different body types. I mean, that’s ok, but it’s not really what I’m about.
I like the belly because it’s cute and hot! And because a girl with a chubby belly is a good-time girl! She’ll have a beer or 10 on a Tuesday night, go for ice cream on a hot day, or get stoned and eat Doritos at 4 am with you. You can just tell a chubby-bellied girl enjoys the hell out of life.
So I am totally trying to start a belly trend across America - chubby belly heaven in 2007, ya'll!
A note: I am not in support of muffin tops. Wear pants that fit – don’t cut off circulation to a cute squishy belly. Let your belly breathe! |
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[Jul. 26th, 2006|11:29 am] |
After another hilarious night with a bottle of red wine and America's Funniest Home videos, I think I may have finally cracked the code to its infinite power over my laughing mechanism.
The equation is something like this:
Fat ladies falling down
+
Dogs scooting around on their butts
+
Accidents that looks like they may have seriously injured someone
+
Trampoline mishaps
+
Wacky wedding bloopers
+
Kids doing something unintentionally sexual
+
Comical ways of waking someone up
X
Direct shots to the nuts
=
HILARITY |
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| Best.Sign.Ever. |
[Jul. 14th, 2006|02:15 pm] |
This is the best ever.
At work, someone put up this erroneous sign. As you can kind of see, someone else corrected it. But then someone else came along and scrawled their own addition at the bottom.
It so rules. |
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| Musing #2: Photo Booths |
[Jul. 10th, 2006|11:29 am] |
Something about photo booth pictures always seems very touching to me, like the poignancy projected onto a missing persons shot on the local news or found pictures of your parents looking young, happy, and beautiful. Maybe it’s that they’re almost always taken by two people who truly want to commemorate a moment together, that the actual suggestion of “Let’s get in the photo booth,” can be translated as “I really like you.” The high definition photography is particularly flattering as well, so what you see when that strip pops out of the machine is the best possible version of yourself, the iconic you in your head. And it suggests something about the photographed, some whimsy or sense of fun similar to that suggested by a Polaroid.
I take a picture every time I pass a Photobooth, whether I’m alone in a bar on a Tuesday night or wilting in the blazing summer sun on a holiday weekend. Looking back at the piles of strips filled with different friends and faces makes me feel like a slightly better version of myself. |
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| Drunk Wisdom |
[Jul. 7th, 2006|05:19 pm] |
I have found that the best thing to do when you're going to work with a hangover is to take 5 minutes to put on a dress and heels.
Nobody will notice that you are unshowered and blurry-eyed if you are dressed up. Even if they do they won't dare tell you you look like you just crawled out of a bottle of Jack Daniels when you seem to be making an effort to look nice. |
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[Jun. 27th, 2006|11:26 am] |
Aside from the general delight I take in uber-cuteness such as displayed in this picture from Cute Overload, this one is the best for another reason.
That girl in the background is expressing everything I'm feeling on her face! She is the personification of TOO CUTE!
I imagine her thought process, like mine, as "OH MY GOD. TOOOOOOOOOOO CUTE. OH NO! OH NO! CAN'T TAKE IT.GONNA DIE. HUH. HUH. CAN'T BREATH. CUTE...IN...RESPIRATORY SYSTEM."
I bet about 5 seconds after that picture was snapped she burst into tears and then her head exploded. |
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[May. 30th, 2006|03:13 pm] |
The proofreader who sits behind me and I have become almost obscene in our pursuit of office cake.
We blatantly stalk and infiltrate birthdays of people we don't know, find a contact, and have them get pieces of cake that they then pass off to us.
And then we can't even be bothered to hang out with the birthday revelers; we take our cake off to some remote hallway and giggle while we eat it.
Today I heard a burst of applause from the break room and turned around wide-eyed and whispering "Sounds like cake!" only to see that she had already put up a post-it reading CAKE!
We're cake vultures.
Kaplan may actually be the official corporate sponsor of cake.
We have cake for every birthday, and due to our vast number of employees, we have cake about 3 times a week. The honest employee asks himself each time, "Do I know the person being celebrated well enough to partake in their cake?"
Kate and I ask ourselves only, "WHERE'S THE CAKE?!?" |
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[May. 28th, 2006|08:40 pm] |
Walking to the subway this morning in glasses and bedraggled hair, feeling self-conscious under the blazing sun, I suddenly heard a tiny little, "Hi."
I looked up to see two tiny little Hispanic girls hanging out of an upstairs apartment window, barely able to hold back their giggles. "Hi, hi, hi!" they started to yell, excited that I had looked up.
I waved and smiled back at them and yelled "Hi!"
And it made my whole day. |
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[Apr. 20th, 2006|08:50 pm] |
Hey, what's 9 months before mid-April?
'Cause it seems like everybody's having a birthday right now. |
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[Apr. 14th, 2006|07:04 pm] |
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If you could tell me the name of one album that I would have to immediately run out and buy because it is absolutely essential to my general enjoyment of life, what would it be? |
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[Mar. 27th, 2006|02:34 am] |
What are you top five favorite movies?
Mine:
1. Coal Miner's Daughter
2. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory
3. Waiting for Guffman
4. Ghost World
5. High Fidelity |
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[Mar. 23rd, 2006|01:12 pm] |
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My relationship with the new Jenny Lewis solo album is starting to border on sexual. |
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| Back I Hope |
[Mar. 22nd, 2006|03:44 pm] |
Ya'll remember that song by Monica that was like:
"It's just one of them days/That a girl goes through
When I'm angry inside/Don't wanna take it out on you."
We found it really hilarious that we unanimously believed that song to be about PMS back in the day.
I miss 90's music.
I still know all the words to "This is How We Do It," "Gangsta's Paradise," "Baby got Back," and "Shoop."
I miss "Short, Short Man" and "Mr. Personality."
I also liked how all the female pop stars back then were like, folk-y singer/songwriters, instead of sex vixens. I still think light blue nailpolish is the coolest because Jewel wore it with a baby blue shirt in some video ('You Were Meant For Me?')
Every single girl in my general age group owned 'Pieces of You' by Jewel and 'Jagged Little Pill' by Alanis Morissette.
On karaoke I still rock that shit, plus: Fiona Apple, Natalie Imbruglia, The Cardigans, Sarah McLachlan, No Doubt, Lisa Loeb.
Music kind of sucks these days now that I think about it. |
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[Feb. 15th, 2006|03:25 pm] |
So those of you who live in major urban areas and have used the message board Craigslist undoubtedly know that Craigslist users like to speak in cute little codes to solicit illegal activities and products.
Cokewhores are "ski bunnies" who want "an instructor" with "lift tickets." A john might solicit a "GFE" with a college girl for "60 roses" or a "donation to a charity of her choosing." All of which I find really awesome and funny because I can't imagine that in the eyes of the law this mystifying double-speak is protecting them in any way.
And those of you who have interacted with me on some level undoubtedly know that I love to obsess and quibble over the little minutiae of life.
Well, I am really obsessed with Craigslist. It's such a fascinating glimpse into real down and dirty gender relations. Old men bartering money or drugs for sex with young women, men targeting these incredibly specific demographics (mature with a full bush, married and submissive, busty and asian), women insisting that to date her a man must be 6'3 and rich. I could read it for hours.
I recently had a friend ask me to decode "rock climbing" for him. Knowing that "ski" is coke, it seems to logically follow that "rock climbing" is crack, although I was not 100% sure, and I always thought of crackheads as a somewhat different group than Internet users.
Point is I did a search on Craigslist for rock climbing and found a post from a girl who was looking to "rock-climb or ski." The generally unspoken subtext here is that she will go over to a guy's house, use his drugs, and engage in some kind of sexual activity with him either as "payment" or just because she wants to, although it does get sticky trying to separate the two. So CL has anonymous email addresses for each post, but you can also respond publicly on the site, and several people had.
All the emails were along the lines of "This girl Jessica is a cokewhore, she'll meet anyone to stick drugs in her nose, she'll do your coke and not put out, she'll steal whatever she can from your house, she stole some guy's credit card, etc."
Ever since reading that I've been talking about Jessica to anyone who will listen. I really want a window into her head, want to understand her life.
Here's a girl who probably honestly grifts men for drugs every night. And you know she's not spending 30 minutes with them--they're having 8-hour coke sessions. 5-8 hours with probably usually ugly, boring men she has nothing to say to, just to get free drugs. I ponder the plight of Jessica, her motivations. I think about her a lot.
I also think about the fact that the only reason she is so scorned on Craigslist, the only reason these men are mad, is because she breaks the unspoken contract of drugs for sex. Not that she's doing it every night, not that she so obviously has a huge problem, not even the stealing so much as the fact that (WARNING!) she does your drugs and doesn't put out.
So I talk about Jessica to anyone who will listen, the same way I talk about Britney or the decline of pubic hair, kind of bounce her off them and gauge who they are by what they think.
And now, apparently, I'm posting about her. I did say "minutiae." |
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[Feb. 9th, 2006|03:36 pm] |
Did you guys know that the "Do you like Pina Coladas?" song is about a couple that tries to cheat on each other through personals and ends up on a date together?
I mean, I had no freaking idea! I was very surprised to learn this news.
( Lyrics ) |
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[Feb. 5th, 2006|10:36 am] |
I don't know if ya'll know this, but I will talk Britney Spears any second of the day. Like, if some hulking criminal came up behind me in a dark alley and put a knife to my throat and raped me, but then was like "Did you hear Brit's preggers again?" I would sit him down and chat it out.
I love, love, love this shit.
And part of it's the fall from grace, and part of it is the fact that Brit has clearly fired every member of her staff who ever criticized K-Fed including her stylist and her trainer, allowing us all to see how much voodoo goes into image-making. I fucking love, more than the 7-11 slurpie type pictures, the ones of Brit all dressed up clearly trying her damndest to look nice and still just looking tacky and ordinary, cause that's how most people in the world look.
And it's almost this literal interpretation of Lolita growing up, of exiting that teen nymph sexuality and finding that your charms are limited beyond it. It's just like most girls in my hometown who peak at 16 or 17 and get married by 19 or 20 and let themselves totally go.
Part of it is the idea that you can do whatever you want with your talent (and I do think Brit is talented, at least as a dancer and a performer) and that you can have the entertainment world at your feet and still just be a trashy Louisiana girl who can't wait to be married and pop out some babies. And how vehemently people will resent you for this, although really why should they?
And part of it's like, oh yes, this is time to have a relationship like the one Brit is having for most people--at her age, at this point, but most of us don't have unlimited resources and constant press attention so the whole thing is this grandiose, inflated version of that first shitty relationship with a guy who's kind of a douche.
And part of it is that I am an asshole and the thought of OHMYGOD WHAT HAPPENED TO BRITNEY SPEARS is an intoxicating cry that appeals to that assholery, so much so that I am now instigating a whole dialogue on it in my journal.
But mostly, just so you know, if anybody ever wants to talk Britney, I will stop my shit for that.
PS: Have you guys all read about my other recent obsession, the alleged Lindsay Low-ho diary entries? Check it out on Gawker.
http://www.gawker.com/news/lindsay-lohan/lindsays-diary-leaves-of-lohan-152278.phpl
I love that all these starlets like Loho and Paris Hilton keep diaries because I can picture the insides of them being like, crayon scribblings and doodled initials with the occassional "Dear Diary, do you think I'm hot?" |
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