Showing posts with label new jersey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new jersey. Show all posts

Monday, May 12, 2008

HumDrum Updates

I've been in Jersey for nearly a week now, so if my creepy neighbors broke into my apartment and did terrible, terrible things to my stuff, I still don't know.

I was planning on heading home today, but my parents are insisting we all sit down and have A Talk about My Future, And When I'm Going To Stop Mooching Money.

The problem is, I don't know. I never get the jobs I apply for because either A) I'm totally unqualified and really have no business being interviewed at all, or B) I'm totally qualified, but someone out there is even more qualified, and probably fellated several people on their way to the office.

And I don't really know what I want to do. I want to write, yes, but I can never think up any good ideas. I want to review movies and books, and be several famous people's personal assistant. I would be a great agent or publicist or editor. The problem? No idea how to get those jobs.

I'm going to have to move, I suspect. I can't afford my apartment, and New York City is slowly beating me to death. I love it, but maybe a location change would do me some good. I don't really know. Job hunting sucks.

It's cold and wet and rainy, and I want to just lie here and read. But I will be a good, productive member of society, and just send out more useless job resumes instead.

At least I get to see my friend Kay on Friday, when she comes in to graduate. It's rough when all your best friends live in different states. I protest this chain of events.
- LV

Monday, December 24, 2007

SIx Minutes Until Christmas

Weird day. I didn't talk to a single person I wasn't related to.

Being home, in my parent's home, gives me a disjointed, detached feeling from the rest of the world. I could live and die in this house and nobody would ever know. It's scary, really.

The holidays always make me weird. I'm never sure how to feel at any moment.

Plus, reading the collected works of WILL CHRISTOPHER BAER is enough to make anyone a little loopy. Sad and beautiful and funny and diseased. Most people might not consider this appropriate holiday reading material, but it sums up my emotions pretty well.

I have this nagging, awful feeling I forgot to do something. And while I have a very clear memory of actually doing it, I can't shake this unease. It's quite annoying.

Maybe I'm just scared of flying. I need to be pretty sedated to get on a plane.

Two minutes until Christmas.

I miss my friends, and my life. The holidays are a pause. Take a breath. Then continue on with normal life. Or something.

One minute until Christmas.

May you all have a happy holiday, or a tolerable one. May my plane land safely and my paranoia abate.
- LV

PS It's Christmas. Doesn't feel any different. Remember when it was such a big deal?

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

And I Don't Know How To Use My Phone, Either

So, a major publishing company has fallen. Our E-Mail isn’t working today. Meaning I have even less work than usual. Meaning I finally have time to offer a real update. But I don’t feel like it. Instead, I’m going to tell you what I’ve done today.
• Scheduled an interview for a full-time job here in Adult Editorial, so I can get paid to basically do this. It’s tomorrow. Of course, I immediately wished I had scheduled it for Monday, so I would have more time to pick out an outfit, then wash it. I haven’t done laundry in a while. I bring a few outfits home to Jersey, do them there, and subsist on that each week.
• Planned all the book readings I’m going to for the next month or so. My shrink suggested it. Don’t judge me.
• Added about a hundred more books to my amazon wishlist.
• Counted the number of buttons on my phone (31, not including the receiver).
• Drank two large bottles of Diet Coke. Tried to figure out secret ingredients in Coke. Nearly blew up computer in attempt. Lost interest.
• Finished Crooked Little Vein, which is like love in book form.
• Read a manuscript.
• Sent increasingly panic-stricken text messages to my friend Esse, who is supposed to come over tonight, because the idea of being alone with my roommate fills me with fear. And urine.
• Spent roughly twenty minutes pondering the moral and ethical implications of spitting in my roommate’s shampoo. Decided against it, due to DNA testing.
• Spent roughly forty minutes trying to figure out how I could manage to lose TWO iPods, one of which is not mine, both of which are expected to be given to someone tomorrow.
• Wondered why the hell it’s called a Jitney.
• Pondered the sexuality of one of my coworkers.
• Discovered that in fact I have the only working E-Mail in the entire office, due to a glitch in the system, and because I forgot to turn it off last night. Decided against informing anyone.

Lunch was weird, too. I was with Kay, the Art Department intern, and Jay from upstairs. A random lady walked over to our table and sat near us. Kay was picking at her leftovers. The older lady – by no means homeless – asked if she could finish Kay’s food. And did. Never in my entire life have I seen that happen. It was essentially a What The Fuck moment.

What a thrilling life I do lead. Tomorrow I have a job interview, AND I’m going to the Hamptons to mooch off of my rich aunt’s beach house. Even though I hate the beach. I do, however, love getting away from the evil blonde baby-eater I live with. Or ostrich-fucker. She needs a new nickname. Any ideas?

May your E-Mail work all day, and may Tom Cruise stay away from your couch,
- LV

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

Amy Winehouse Is Awesome And Should Be My Friend

Things I Am Really Worried About

• That I will not be offered a job at the end of my internship, despite all my hard work, and will have to go work at Abercrombie & Fitch.
• That a very famous author will laugh at my book proposal. Then beat me unconscious with a copy of Phantoms.
• That when the zombie uprising comes, I will panic and aim for their feet.
• That my roommate will lose control of her bloodlust and feast upon my sweet, sweet flesh.
• That my apartment situation will crash and burn in a fiery ball of whining and insanity, and I will be forced to live in a house constructed entirely out of books and DVDs. Or worse, in New Jersey.
• That the release date for Will Christopher Baer’s book will be pushed back, reducing me to a hollow shell of the human condition.
• That my uncle will not recover from liver cancer.
• That the Transformers movie will be as bad as I think it will.
• Clowns.

That’s all for now. Back to work. May your day be pleasant, and may the zombie clowns get lost on the way to your home. Unless you like zombie clowns, in which case may they swarm upon you and hold a kick-ass party.

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Insert Clever Title

On Friday I'm going to a comic signing with my friends Aye and Kaye. Garth Ennis will be there. And I will be there. We will be breathing the same air. Also, the co-creator of Transmetropolitan will be there, although I'm currently having a brain-fart and can't remember his name. Now, if Warren Ellis was going to be there, I'd be rushing out to get a Spider Jerusalem tattoo. Or not. I dislike pain. And needles. And strangers.

I'm reading Howard Zinn's, Voices Of A Peope's History of the United States. Current thoughts? Politically, we're in the same situation we were during the civil war. Only I like Abraham Lincoln a lot more than George W. Bush. I mean, one helped to end slavery. The other choked on a pretzel. Yes, I'm oversimplifying. But it's OK, because I'm funny.

Yeah, I'm still in New Jersey. I've been very busy sleeping, reading, and arguing with my mother over whether or not I'm allowd to say 'fuck' in the house. I yell a lot about freedom of speech and the press. Doesn't work.

I watched House with my mom last night. And I noticed something: there are like NO shows that feature brilliant, eccentric women, unless they're treated as a joke. That's kind of depressing. On the plus side, House is a dick and I love him.

And I'm sure I'll regret this later, but I actually think the new Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer movie looks kind of entertaining. I didn't say good.

Here are some life lessons my friends and I have imparted on each other through the years. May they help you in your journeys.

* People make stains.

* In the Financial District, nobody can hear you scream.

* Food should not glow in the dark.

* Armpit hair is like the softest hair on the body.

* Stepping in another person's saliva is NEVER lucky.

* If you know what a fluffer is before you're fourteen, you never had a childhood.

I'm watching Spongebob Squarepants at the moment. My brain cells are dying on mass. It's like a mental genocide.

'Yesterday, the president met with a group he calls the Coalition of the Willing. Or, as the rest of the world calls them, Britain and Spain.'
- Jon Stewart

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Life After College: Myths Busted

I had a certain idea of what my life would be like after college. I must admit, I had some preconceived notions on what the world would look like, once I had finished my academic career. Clearly, I am an idiot.

So, for those of you who have also just graduated, or those of you still trying to escape the educational system, here are a few myths about post-college life that, sadly, are just that.

* You will be a different person after graduation. You will not wake up the next morning smarter, or wiser, or calmer. Your skin will not have cleared up, and you will not have grown [I was particularly devastated by that last one]. You will not feel any more like an adult than you did the day before. The other day, I was mistaken for a fifteen year-old. I did have my hair in pigtails, and I am short, but still. Fifteen. Jesus.

* Your parents will treat you like an adult. OK, I know this was naive. But I dared to hope. I did. I dared. That hope was shattered several times in the next few days, as my father gave me a noogie, my mother nagged me about my hair and makeup and clothing, and both began to lecture me on my use of foul language. Also, my mother will still lick her finger to wipe excess makeup off my face. I don't know if this is just her, but I figured it would be fair warning.

* Life gets more exciting. Unless you have a job immediately lined up, you will probably spend a few days mooching around the house/apartment/jail cell/dorm, wondering how to waste your time. This is especially true if your friends have all defaulted to their home states for the summer, the bastards. On the plus side, you'll have some time to catch up on your reading and movie-watching.

* You will command respect from your siblings. My younger brother still calls me 'sugar plum,' and yanks on my hair. I still tell him that in the impending zombie invasion, he will not survive. Then we start hitting each other. He's nine. I'm twenty-one. Actually, this may be more a statement on my maturity than anything else. Moving on.

* Anything will be different at all. You don't have to worry about grades, or professors, or missing classes - all good things. But you do have to worry about rent, jobs, apartment hunting, career choices, health insurance, groceries, raises, office politics, and the direction your life is heading - if you haven't already.

So what have we learned? That graduating from college is anticlimatic at best. At worst, it's an extension of a bad summer vacation, sans the vacation time.

I tend to get rather negative when I spend more than two days in New Jersey. I need to get back into the city, but I'm reluctant to return to the craziness of my roommate. On the other hand, any more time being harassed by my mother, and I'll be spending the rest of the summer in a padded cell, beating my head against the wall in time to Avril Lavigne songs.

That actually sounds kind of fun.

'They said the Irish discovered civilization, then had a couple of Guinness and forgot where they fucking put it.'
- ROBIN WILLIAMS

Sunday, May 27, 2007

In Brief

Roger Waters Concert
Fantastic show. Pink Floyd was never one of my favorite bands, but I seriously would have to be a moron to miss out on a chance to see their songs performed live. And it was worth it. They played all three of my favorite songs [Another Brick In The Wall, Wish You Were Here, and Have A Cigar]. I didn't expect it to be so political. Roger Waters does NOT like Bush.

The visuals were mind-blowing. They had the prism from Dark Side Of The Moon, and a pig float and a spaceman float. I can't really describe it - partly because I spent about a third of the concert staring psychotically at the very cute stoned boy standing next to me. Yes, I AM that shallow and easily distracted.

Paprika
My friend dragged me to this anime film, and I'm truly glad she did. Despite the fact that I am a movie junkie, I know almost nothing about anime. I always figure it's big-breasted cartoon characters being molested by monsters with tentacles. Not so. The graphics were stunning, and the story, while confusing, was complex and the characters were endearing. I'll see more anime films - as long as there are no tentacles. Unless the tentacles are funny.

Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End
Honestly, much better than I expected. Certainly better than the second one. And Johnny Depp had no shirt on for part of the film which, if you think about it, is a fairly rare occurrance. I was very happy. Because my hormones rule me, apparently.

But the best part was the weird conglomeration of actors in this movie. Geoffrey Rush and Johnny Depp yelling over who gets to run the boat? Stellen Skaarsgard and Bill Nighy growing starfish? Chow Yun Fat lecturing Keira Knightley? We got it. And seriously, Keith Richards' cameo as Depp's dad was, despite being ridiculously hyped, not overdone at all. It was a nice moment. He looked like a rock star of days gone by. He was probably around back then. See? A timely and witty joke about modern pop culture!

And the ending was very satisfying. Stick around after the credits - that's all I'll say. Although I would prefer this to be the final one. The trilogy ended on a not-sucky note. Let's not draw it out. Please. For the sake of my well-being. And your own self-respect.

Penn Station
The people assigned to work there were assholes, and I nearly cried in a corner while giving people paper cuts with my ticket. Instead, I tried to keep my panic attack under some modicum of control. They sent me to the wrong place, where I nearly got on the Long Island Railroad; they yelled at me when I asked what track I was on. We missed the first train; the second was delayed by twenty minutes. Finally, a police officer gave us the right directions, and I nearly hugged him.

Panna II
Indian restaurant located at 93 1st Avenue on curry row. Ask for Babu; he gave me and my friend free soup, samosas, ice cream, and naan. The food is delicious, and the lights hanging from the ceiling are trippy. But remember: at the top of the stairs, make a LEFT. The restaurant on the right is not so friendly. And one more warning: if you are female, Babu may hug you, kiss you, or give you his phone number. He's only trying to drum up business, but still.

Right now I'm once again stuck in Jersey, where it is hot and boring and I am unable to smoke because my younger brother will chase me around the house howling. And frankly, I have no need for such trauma.

General crankiness in New Jersey today. Nobody is in a particularly good mood. I want to be left alone to finish read The Phantom Of The Opera, and ponder the adventures of Captain Jack Sparrow. Incidentally, it's a very good book.

I had a dream about zombies the other night. They won the epic battle, and I spent the entire night trying to escape them by hiding under a pile of pillows. Apparently my visions of being a fierce zombie slayer aren't entirely accurate - even in my dreams.

'Cable cars are fun. Everyone gets on board and becomes a rhesus monkey. No one talks on a cable car, they just hang and stare And the guy in the front, with no steering wheel, going, 'What the fuck? What the fuck's this one do?' Pulling levers, levers. Is it four levers that just do fuck all? That it? He's always ringing that bell, going, 'Help! Help!' Endless bell ringing! What is he, the Hunchback of Notre Dame? The bell - him and the guy from the stock market are the same person, I think. At the end of the stock market, they ring a bell. It's the same bell. Oh, yes. Never link those two together again.'
- Eddie Izzard