Humor, Rambles

THINGS I WANT: A Brief But Important List

This is a list of things I want. It does not include any career goals, relationship milestones or monetary hopes. I obviously want all of these things and you know it, Thomas.

1). I want to one day write a book of essays, and I want that book of essays to be adapted into a television show even though I hate when they adapt anything to television because it never works.

2). I want acne cream that dries instantly so that I can sleep without having to do so lying flat on my back like Meryl Streep in Death Becomes Her or Jessica Lange in AHS: Coven.

3). In the television adaption of my book of essays, again, which I will hate, I want the lead character (playing me) to be so attractive that people are annoyed and severely disappointed when they find out what I look like, much like when I saw “Shattered Glass” for the first time. I deserve my Hayden Christiansen moment.

4). I want to be famous enough that I get a rider, and I want that rider to be exclusively about the various kinds of chapsticks I need: I’m talking a Nivea “Olive Oil and Lemon.”

5). I want to have weather told to me exclusively in terms of clothing I need to wear. “This morning will be green flannel with a high of t-shirt underneath.” I have neither the ability or the time to think about what “60 degrees” means for my body.

6). I want Bachelor in Paradise to not be two, two-hour episodes a week. We all know that you can skimp the less attractive people’s dates. We won’t mind.

7). I want someone to finally teach me how to properly shave the weird underneath-my-chin area. I’ve been shaving for seven years, and somehow manage to only increase my razor-burn. My neck hairs grow in odd directions. Guidance, anyone?

8). I want a loofah that doesn’t immediately unravel after one use. I would even stand for two uses, but really I’m burning through loofah cash that I don’t have.

9). I want to be able to block certain hot gays from popping up in my Instagram Discover because no matter how many times I do, they keep coming back. I don’t need to see those abs every two weeks – I already have enough issues to bring to my therapist.

10). I want world peace. Also I want a Herschel backpack. One of these things is more within my grasp.

This was dumb, but it was sitting in my yet-to-be-published cache, so here we are.

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Mental Health, Rambles, Things Happening RN

MENTAL HEALTH IS CHIC, YOU GUYS

In typical fashion, I had a perfect title before I had anything else even written.

I just sent an email to a potential new psychiatrist (in the event it works out and I eventually tell you about this, hi hon!). While I was in school, I utilized our student health services and saw the same psychiatrist on-and-off for about three years. Always check out the resources available to you, especially when you’re at school—I’ve heard some horror stories about SHS, but I’ve always had good experiences.

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Life, Rambles

UPKEEP

I literally have nothing to say right now. I think I’ll write up something about the new healthcare bill that was voted on and passed in the House today. It’ll go to the Senate next (and fun fact, it discriminates against people with pre-existing conditions like mental health, rape and post-partum depression), so I’ll educate myself on that.

But really right now I’m in the throes of graduation. I had my last class yesterday, and now all I have is a paper and several hours of graduation ceremonies before I’m unleashed upon the adult world. It’s…stressful to say the least.

I literally can’t think of anything else to say, but I wanted y’all to know that I didn’t forget. I might have quinoa tonight. That’ll be fun.

BYE.

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Source: Dailymotion // “I’m a college graduate and I expect the best!”

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Rambles

WALKING ON BROKEN GLASS

Written while on the Amtrak coming back into Boston

“I’m feeling faint from blood loss.”

I’m writing this on the train because when I get off the train, I’ll be trying to navigate through vast swathes of people back to my apartment. I’ll be walking right into the Boston Marathon—not into it, but like in it, ya know?—and once I get home, I’ll be getting cute so I can join in the festivities. That’ll probably end with me falling asleep at five p.m. and waking in a saliva-damp haze at 10 p.m., by which time the moment for blogging will have passed.

So now is best. I only have shitty Amtrak Wi-Fi right now, so I’ll have to upload this when I’m home, which brings us back to the original problem of the saliva-sleep. Whatever. C’est la vie.

Easter was this weekend, and if you don’t follow me on Twitter you didn’t see my hilarious retweets. I mean, I didn’t do anything except retweet something that someone else wrote that was hilarious, but still. Gary Janetti, a writer, had a series of tweets centered around “Jesus’ Gay Friend,” which is both the most hilarious angle to take and also skewers exactly how dramatic it is to gather all your friends for a last supper, fake your death and then resurrect a few days later. STUN.

Yesterday, after a large diner brunch, my mother, sisters and I were sitting outside, sweating in the heat at our patio table. We had fixed the umbrella that morning, making sure it was nestled in the brackets and flush with its cinder block base. The wind was blowing softly, and I was working on an article.

Suddenly, the umbrella flared as a gust of wind whipped underneath it. The pole, set so painstakingly in place by me and my mom, began to lift with the pressure. As the umbrella wrenched itself free, the glass table surrounding it broke into a thousand-thousand pieces and rained, tinkling, over my lap, legs and the deck. My laptop dropped to the floor, yanking my earbuds out of my ears with it.

Everything happened both so quickly and so slowly—silence deafened me as I stared dumbly at the glittering glassine chunks in my lap. Slowly, we moved away from the table. I lunged for my laptop and set it carefully on a nearby chair before picking up my iPhone off the ground. My LaCroix—Pamplemousse—could not be saved and was buried under essentially a sand dune.

“Are you cut?” my dad asked, brought outside by the deafening crash. “No, no,” I assured before I actually looked down past my shorts—dusted with glitter (glass)—and realized that my legs were scored with pinpricks of blood. I was the only one bleeding—blood dotting my slippers and beginning to run softly down my legs.

(At this point, the train pulled into the station and I was right—I didn’t finish it. It’s now 11:43 a.m. on Tuesday)

I stood, frozen in place, because every step led to slight pinpricks as the glass shards whispered, “I’m here!” It wasn’t the big chunks of glass in my slippers that scared me. It was those little shards that were tangled in my leg hair, or taking up residence in the folded-up cuffs of my shorts. My upper thighs were speckled with small lacerations and glittery little teeth—it was almost like the glass was saying, “Maybe if you weren’t wearing such short shorts we wouldn’t have cut you up here.” Being slut-shamed by pre-sand is never a good idea.

After I waddled away—having been combed over by the spout of a vacuum—and got changed, I then had to go out and help my family clean up the mess. In a blood-stained white t-shirt, gym shorts and big Timberland work boots, legs covered in dried blood, was the most masculine I ever looked, and will ever look. So I spent the rest of the afternoon of Jesus’ a-rising squatting, using a spackle to flick chunks of glass out from in-between slats of weather-beaten wood.

“I’m feeling faint from blood loss,” I joked from my deep squat, joking but hoping against hope that someone would be like, “Oh you should sit down!” No such luck.

So now I’m sitting in a glass-enclosed box of the law building, with a “I’m Healing Here!!” Band-Aid, a nail broken from where I stabbed myself with a fork while doing dishes, and numerous mental scars from being with family for any amount of time. So that’s fun.

I think the lesson here is 1) Never go home for a religious holiday weekend, 2) Don’t fuck with umbrellas, and 3) Never go outside. Bubble-boy it forever.

This was the worst blog post ever, but whatever, it’s done. HOPE YA LIKE IT.

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pop culture, Rambles, television

THE KARDASHIAN AQUARIUM

Written late. I’m going to blame this going up late on the time-change, which is not at all true but you’ll never prove that. I mean, I just admitted to it, but will that hold up in court? Unclear.

This morning (my morning, your mid-afternoon), while I bustled around getting ready (doing dishes in my towel because I’m using this weird in-shower tanning moisturizer because clearly I don’t know when to quit while I’m ahead re God’s choices for my body; making my bed; choosing what plain t-shirt to overwear today) I watched the season 13 premiere of Keeping Up With the Kardashians. It’s been, like, so long since it’s been on—and so much has happened since then, even though the premiere was probably filmed in late September—that I almost forgot what it was like to watch KUWTK.

For instance, I don’t even need to be paying attention. I was doing dishes while it played, because by now, I understand that what happens in the “Coming Up” segment is essentially all you need to know for the next portion of the episode until the following commercial break. Also, they speak so quietly that I had to put on subtitles, and when I wasn’t looking at it, I knew that they would be lying on their sides lithely, picking at their acrylics, wearing hoop earrings, that I wasn’t missing anything.

Watching the Kardashians is like going to the aquarium. The main reason you go to the aquarium is because the fish are pretty, and it’s a glimpse into a world that you would know nothing about otherwise. To live amongst the fishes, you must forgo oxygen. To live amongst the Kardashians, it’s kind of the same thing. I don’t have elaborate parties at Prime One Twelve in Miami for my personal assistant. I don’t occasionally drop into my New York brick-and-mortar shop.

By the by, the Kardashians should sell DASH to Nordstrom. To not to that would be so fucking dumb. Make like Topshop and put that shit in a department store. Pls.

I don’t arrange for four extra rooms in a luxury hotel for my NBA player boyfriend and his crew. I don’t have a crew.

For these reasons, amongst a thousand others, I watch the Kardashians. Kylie and Kendall weren’t in the episode at all (apparently Kylie is gunning for a Kyga reality show—because that worked so well with Khlomar) and Kris only popped up at the end to wear power blazers and talk about baking cinnamon rolls. My family is boring and not even we have conversations this boring.

But I watch, and in the moments where I’m not fluffing my duvet (not a euphemism) or picking a cologne (out of two options) I’m glued to the screen. There’s something so alluring about these people—like watching Galatea come to life and talk about beanies. They’re hyper-human; they’re hyper-beautiful; they’re hyper-rich. And the fact that they have the most mundane conversations is part of the appeal; that people with this much beauty, influence, wealth and power could actually be so boring. STUN.

I think what I’m most excited for (besides the Paris saga) is Blonde Kylie. I was a huge stan for Blylie, and every day I miss that blonde bombshell moment she went through. Best few months OF MY LIFE. Also, I just realized that months ago, I tweeted that if Kylie did not release a line of highlighters called “KyLighters” that everything she’d done would be for naught. And guess what!!! It’s not for naught because she released Kylighters!!!! I can’t believe I’m psychic.

Side bar—there was a point sophomore year that I was legitimately convinced that I was psychic and I truly believed I could predict the future. So maybe this is my second wind!

I like how all I thought to write about was the Kardashians and even with that, it’s taken me, like, an hour to get this far. Not all heroes wear capes though, because I’m managing to finish this 4 my fans. Actually, though, I totally would wear a cape—very chic. Although very fall.

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Source: Danny McCarthy// My current background

Is there anything left to say? I switched out my phone cases because “if I had to look at my clear phone case for another second, I would’ve flipped out” and that’s too extreme of a reaction to have about anything. My new one is silicone-y and says “Chill pills” which isn’t basic of me because, technically, I am on chill pills. It’s ironic and subversive. Fuck off.

I love my life. I love the Kardashians. I love cauliflower.

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Source: Twitter//Peep the time-stamp; who’s gonna tell my Twitter about Daylights Savings?

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Life, Rambles, Things Happening RN, Things I Like

THINGS I’M LOVING: SOMETHING TO PUT UP

I have nothing smart/funny to say, so let’s just talk about what I’ve been loving lately. Such a clever idea.

1). Who? Weekly

A podcast that I found from one of those “Best of 2016” (“best” being so, so relative, you guys). I’m so into podcasts, and I’m always on the hunt for new ones. Who? Weekly is dedicated to all the “who’s” in pop culture—celebrities without name recognition—where you have to go, “You know, they were in that (blank) with (more famous celebrity).” It’s surprisingly amazing, and I say surprisingly because I’m not a person who focused on the 99% of pop. I’m a 1%er. But the hosts are funny, and you’d be surprised as to who they see as Who’s.

2). Ryna (Rob + Chyna)

I never thought I would care so much about gingerbread houses. After all the drama between Rob and Chyna (supposedly to stir up interest in their baby’s E! special—how am I even saying these words??) I, and a friend/intrepid reporter, started looking into Kris Jenner’s gingerbread mansions. She has one in her house, and sends one to each of her clients/children. We were discussing the d.r.a.m.a. that Chyna wasn’t on the main house. I literally never thought I would be thinking this much about the least popular Kardashian. The amount of brain space I’m wasting on Robert. Shocking.

3). Beanies

I bought a bunch of beanies from Old Navy.

4). Jessica Jones

I was looking for something new to watch/binge, and I started watching Jessica Jones. The noir voiceovers turned me off at first, so I stopped after the first episode. But maybe it was Kilgrave controlling me, but I came back and devoured the next twelve episodes. Really good, semi-realistic portrayals of superhumans, and it had the faint tinge of “Have I seen this already?” and you probably have but it’s in the good way where you give it a chance. I’m not a ~nerd~ and even I liked it. I think I might even watch Daredevil because JJ isn’t coming back until 2018 (they’re doing a crossover miniseries in 2017)—omg who the fuck am I?

5). Bookz

I got a Barnes & Noble giftcard for Christmas, and I just requested a bunch of books from the library. Holla at governmental systems providing free content to its citizens!!!

I’m gonna start planning out blogs again. I think it’s the combination of mental fatigue, schoolwork and life, but I’m just drained. I think it’s just been a lot since the election; a lot of my fire has been dampened. But ya boi is gonna start writing about pop culture and politics and queer shit again, because THAT’S WHAT I DO.

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holidays, Humor, Life, Rambles, Things Happening RN

THINGS HAPPENING RN: I’M HOT

OH MY GOD.

I forgot that today was Thursday, so it’s 6:22, and I’m about to go to dinner (rich), so let’s see if I can bang this one out.

THINGS HAPPENING RN:

1). OLD NAVY

I just came back from Old Navy. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t really enjoy shopping as much as I used to. I used to go all the time when I was in high school and in my freshman year of college. It might be the restricted budget, or my “maturity,” but I’m starting to buy smarter (which means buying less, which is super-BLAH).

2). TELEVISION

I’ve been rewatching episodes of The Real Housewives of New York City. It’s arguably one of the best in the franchise, because those ladies are smart, but also crazy, so you’re getting laughs and drama. It’s also made me remember some of the better catchphrases/moments of the series. God, such laughs.

3). SKEWL

I left this semester with the harrowed breath of someone who just narrowly avoided being eaten by a velociraptor (ugh, Chris Pratt is so hot). As I was sitting on the Amtrak (rich, rich) coming home to Westchester (rich, rich, rich) I felt like I had just closed the chapter on such a shitty semester. It sucks because on some levels, it was amazing. I reconnected with some friends, I pushed myself out of my comfort zone, I LOST TEN (10) POUNDS!!!!!!!!!!!, and blah blah whatever nothing is more important than losing weight. But it was also SO hard school-wise, and as I’ve said before—I’m not used to having to work hard. When you look like I do (hot) and talk like I do (funny), you can really get away with a lot more than you might realize.

4). MUSACK

I’ve been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack. I’ve been listening to it so much that I referenced it in my essay for my Early American Literature Until 1860 class. I quoted that line from “Non-Stop” where Hamilton says that independence is messy. It was SUCH A FUCKING BOMB ESSAY, YOU GUYS.

5). DRINKZ

My sister and I made Moscow mules last night. I LOVE the idea of holiday (holigay) drinks, and so we went out and got supplies. It’s an amazing drink—the ginger beer is totally spicy and refreshing and masks the taste of vodka; the lime is delish; the mint is SO bourgeoisie.

6). BOOK

I had a great conversation with a girl/friend in my class (she’s both a girl and my friend BUT WE’RE NOT DATING) about fantasy books. I can’t think of a pseudonym for her RN, so I’ll just say friend. But I’ve been rereading Leigh Bardugo’s duology Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom. I’ve been sleeping horribly lately, fraught with rough dreams, so I’m trying to read and do low-eye-tiring activities before I sleep.

7). BOOK PT. 2

(really 6B) I requested a bunch of great books from the library. And by “great” I mean “trash” because during the semester, I read a bunch of nascent American literature, arts criticism and Shakespeare, so I’m decompressing with The Andy Cohen Diaries, some Kathy Griffin, and some teen fantasy-lit. GOD I’M SO NUANCED.

8). I’M HOT

I’m hot. I’ve been feeling SO SHITTY so I keep bullying people into complimenting me. That’s all.

IT’S 6:36 AND I FINISHED WRITING. WRITE IT DOWN; I DID IT!!!!!!

Bye.

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