Thursday, December 11, 2008

Don't Tell Me What to Do!

At work we have an afternoon snack which usually consists of something sweet like cake or cookies. When we have cookies and they are larger than average, our snack lady (hi Evann!) will cut the larger cookies in half because, lets face it, eating half of a cookie is much less guilt provoking. 

Anyway, I noticed that every time she cuts them in half, I end up coming back for the second half, BUT whenever she doesn't cut them in half, I break the cookie in half myself and am completely satisfied...

If you ever want to manipulate me, remember this story. And yes, I did grow up in a broken home. 

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Thank You

For those of you who know me well, you know that this hasn't been one of the easiest years of my life. Transitioning into the real world is never easy and doing it in the bold way that I did(moving alone to a big city with no job and no friends) is hard even for someone like me who's never really been afraid to jump into things headfirst. But one of the blessings of making a move like this is that you find out exactly what you mean to people. It suddenly becomes clear who wants to be in your life and who wants to have a free place to stay while in the city. 

I have been incredibly blessed and delighted by all of those who have come into my life since this move, by those who have stayed in my life, and especially by those who have re-emerged. 

So, to everyone out there, those of you who; show up to help me move, cook me Thanksgiving dinner, send me texts/IMs/facebook messages of love, call me on your way home from work, make me tea when I'm feeling down, visit NY to see ME, and so many other wonderful things...Thank you. 

And HAPPY EFFING THANKSGIVING! May you sit on your ass all day tomorrow. 

P.S. AMAZING


Tuesday, November 25, 2008

2 Noteworthy Conversations

While underwear shopping with Lady M:

"You should get these red plaid ones, then we can match!"

"Why would we EVER need matching panties?"

"For Colin's wetdreams."

"Oh, good point. But I hope you know this is going to ruin my whole underwear color palate. Right now they are all blues, pinks, and purples."

"Welcome to New York Katie." 

Talking to Jenna at Work:

"Well how did she meet this guy?"

"They met at Governor's school."

"Governor's school??"

"Yeah, you know, it's like for smart kids and you go learn about poli-sci and stuff. I guess it's kind of for future politicians."

"Yeah, kind of like how dental school is for future dentists."

"What? they don't have Governor's School in Arizona?"

"....No."

"Oh."

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

5 Reasons Not to go to Work if You're Feeling Sick

1. You might throw up on yourself.

2. You might throw up on yourself while on the train.

3. You might throw up on yourself while on the train, and then Subway (sandwiches) won't let you use their bathroom, so they refer you to McDonald's where they have no paper towels.

4. You might throw up on yourself while on the train, and then Subway (sandwiches) won't let you use their bathroom, so they refer you to McDonald's where they have no paper towels, and there might not be any cabs to take you home, so you will have to ride the bus home smelling like and covered in your own vomit. 

5. Do you really need a fifth reason?




Friday, October 31, 2008

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Monday, October 13, 2008

More Complimentary Creep

While riding my bike again:

"Hey baby you want to ride me like you ride that bike?"

Oh my.

Friday, October 10, 2008

Mean Construction Creeps

While riding my bike to work I overheard a conversation I can only assume was about me. 

MCC#1: Over there, on the bike.

MCC#2: Yeah but she's flat.

No love for the sports bra guys? I guess even creeps have standards. Who knew?

Thursday, October 9, 2008

Working Hard


I don't know why but this picture cracks me up.

Wednesday, October 8, 2008

New Sunday Night Ritual

So it's been some months since I've engaged in "the sex" and my only strategy up to this point has been to pretend that it doesn't exist. If I am watching the TV and a "lovemaking" scene comes on, I quickly change the channel. Can anyone say CNN? If my friends start talking about it I just zone out like I do when my roommate starts saying she needs to break up with her boyfriend. Why get my hopes up thinking that day (and/or I) will ever come? 

To make matters worse, my ex-boyfriend recently informed me that he doesn't need sex. His exact words were, "I don't know why everyone makes such a big deal about it. I guess some people just need it to feel good about themselves." 

Thank you for informing me that I'm the only one suffering through this break-up. That really makes this whole thing a lot easier. I'm so glad we've remained friends!

Back to my original point, I'm now getting to what certain fictional characters would refer to as phase 2 of a break-up; picturing yourself with other people. I knew I was ready to do this a couple of Sundays ago when I unexpectedly got a hot delivery guy and was embarrassed to be standing there in my camp t-shirt and snowflake pajama pants. 

The next Sunday I ordered from the same place and made sure I was looking a little more "decent", which means that this time, I put a bra on under my camp t-shirt. Sure I'll take home this brochure about my 401K options, but hell if I'm ready to give 5% of my paycheck away in this market. 

Unfortunately it was a much less attractive brand of delivery boy who showed up at my door. The kind you might find in a homemade porno versus a professional one. But right now this fantasy is ALL I HAVE, so I plan on ordering sushi every Sunday until I can take a picture of professional porno delivery guy and post it to this blog and/or invite him in to have some sushi. 

Stayed tuned...

Friday, September 26, 2008

Made My Day

Facebook message from an old friend: 

"Cunt."

My reply back:

"I miss you too."

Some things never change.

Monday, September 22, 2008

Left Eye

The other day I was running late for work (like usual), but I wearing a sweet outfit and knew I was looking good, so I didn't mind. As I raced out my building I threw on my aviator shades and strutted down the street and into the train station. 

While on the train I stood against a pole reading The New Yorker and feeling like I was in the opening scene of some eighties movie. The busy city whirling around me. I thought to myself, "I'm soooo New York". I noticed some people looking at me and pointing and I thought, "So they know how fabulous I am too. They probably think I'm someone famous. Psh. Toursits." 

The train reached my stop and I emerged from underground even more full of myself than I was twenty minutes before. I turned on some MGMT and rocked-it down the street. I noticed some more people staring at me, but that only fueled my confidence. I was Annie Hall, I was fucking Carrie Bradshaw, I was...walking down the street with ONE LENS in my sunglasses.

Yes, you read that right. Somehow I had managed to walk all the way from my house, ride the train, arrive at work, and not notice that my left eye had no UV protection whatsoever. I only noticed when I saw my reflection in the door to my office building. 

Maybe it fell out just a moment ago? No, the lens was safely  in my sunglass case, which means, yes, I did in fact walk the whole way with nothing but an empty GOLD-RIM encasing my left eye. 

When I told my co-workers, our receptionist(who we'll call Lady M)said that she liked the look because I had sunglasses on, yet you could see how pretty my eyes are. Nice try lady M. 

P.S. If the hipsters trade in their Kanye shades for ones missing a lens, I expect full credit. 

Friday, September 19, 2008

I Heart America [Ferrera]

Ugly Betty has been filming at my office! Here are a few pics I took, but much better ones can be found on my coworkers blog located here. Enjoy! And yes, I did get to see the cast.

Princess and I on set.


Colin had a blast!


Betty is in there somewhere. I swear.


I know, I'm a total dork, but it's the clapper! How cool is that??

Sunday, September 14, 2008

Neighborly Love

A friend of mine recently relayed to me that she had gotten down and dirty with a neighbor-friend of hers and how the whole situation had ended up fairly awkward. I was highly entertained by this story and a little sad that:

1. Her first encounter with sex in nearly nine months was so horrible.
2. I did not have my own awkward neighbor story. 

It wasn't until several days later that I realized I do have my own neighbor story:

It was fall semester 2006, when everyone still called me katiep and it didn't occur to me to mind...

I had befriended my neighbor and we had made a habit of hanging out in the early am after all the bars had closed. One night we were at my place just chatting in the living room. I was on the couch and he was across the room in a chair, when all of the sudden he gets up and climbs over the back side of the couch placing his body in between me and the back side of the couch. We were now in a spooning. I thought to myself, "what the fuck is this? A sneak attack cuddle?" Couldn't he just be a normal guy and just rub my leg?  I mean did he really have to press his whole body against mine? That's just creepy.

A little stunned, I just lie there praying for some excuse to get up. And then my my savior came in the form of a phone call from my roommate asking me to pick her up (thank god). I left to get my roommate and as a result cuddles had to go home (shucks). 

While driving in my car I received several text messages from cuddles saying things like, "are you back yet?" and "let's hang when you get back". I texted him back saying that I was pretty tired and was headed to bed. 

After my roommate and I returned, I went to bed immediately for fear of him coming back over and trying another one of his terribly awkward and not sexy AT ALL moves.

As Nemo(you know, the clown fish) and I snuggled into my delicious bed and started to drift off, I heard my door open and someone enter my apartment. Assuming it was my other roommate I didn't pay much attention. Then , I heard a knock at my door...still thinking it was my roommate I said, "yes?" 

Now many of you may be wondering why I would just lay there in bed as someone enters my apartment and then my room, but keep in mind, this was Virginia and this type of thing is much more common in Virginia. People are lazy and an unafraid. We will risk anything to stay cozy in our beds (or at least I will) And no, we don't lock our doors. And if we do, there's a copy right under the mat, guaranteed.

So anyway, my door opens and who is there, but cuddles, in the flesh. Apparently, he thought it was appropriate to come into someone's house and into their bedroom (when the lights were off) at 3 in the god-damn morning. The following is the conversation that ensued. In the dark:

Not knowing what else to say, I said, "can i help you?"

"Were you asleep?"

"umm, yeah"

"Do you like to cuddle? I mean do you want to cuddle?" 

I thought to myself, "I know you do."

But then replied, "I'm going to go ahead and say no...but thanks."

"But I just want to hold you and get to know you better, I swear."

"I think you lost that right when you came into my house and into my room uninvited, can you please leave?"

Cuddles tried a few more times after that before, finally getting the hint when I started locking my door. Our relationship ended somewhat anti-climatically months later when I realized he had unfriended me on facebook. 

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Jail Break

Not so long ago, an editor at my office was working with a client who tends to be a bit demanding. One day the client stopped by our office unexpectedly to just "hang out" aka use our internet until he needed to be somewhere.

The editor didn't particularly want to see this client so he decided to go watch a movie in the transporter located in his office. The transporter is a story all its own, but for the purposes of this story, all you need to know is that it's a small spaceship type fort(shown below) with a TV and DVD player inside it (seriously, don't ask).

Tin foil is so futuristic.

Anyway, the editor, who we'll call Jim, goes into the transporter and the client, who we'll call Stan, comes downstairs to my office to hang out. Since my office is right next to Jim's office I go into Jim's office and warn him not to come out of the transporter because Stan is right next door. Jim continues to watch his movie and Stan continues to browse the web in my office.

Twenty minutes or so go by and I am called upstairs for something. When I return to my office I notice that Stan has relocated to JIM'S OFFICE while Jim is STILL HIDING IN THE TRANSPORTER. I should mention that the sound in the transporter is heard through headphones essentially rendering the viewer deaf to all outside noise.

Reenactment

So to recap, Stan is about three feet away from the transporter and Jim is inside the transporter with no idea that Stan is outside. Awwwkwarrrrddd.

If Jim were to just pop out of the transporter, Stan would start to ask questions and poor Jim would be caught in the act of trying to hide from his client, not to mention thoroughly embarrassed.

I realized action must be taken and fast. Just as I had done previously, I needed to somehow inform Jim that Stan was outside, so that he would not come out until Stan had left. I threw around a few ideas...

1. Sending him a text with the risk of Stan hearing the alert noise and getting up to investigate.
2. Entering Jim's office and saying very loudly "SO STAN, YOU ARE JUST GOING TO BE IN JIM'S OFFICE FOR A WHILE THEN?"
3. Send Jim a morse code warning by means of tapping on the wall adjacent to the transporter.

After consulting others in the office, I decided to send Jim a text warning him about Stan's presence...

Stan remained in the Jim's office and Jim remained in the transporter...

We waited...

After what seemed like hours (but was actually about 20 minutes) I got bored and went back upstairs to let my coworkers know that Jim was indeed still trapped in the transporter.... just waiting(Jim told me later that the movie had ended some time ago and he was just sitting there in fear for quite sometime).

During this time various people went into Jim's office to try and lure Stan out of the room.

"Hey Stan, come watch this cut, it's really neat"

"No thanks"

"Hey Stan, would you like anything to eat? Let's go to the Kitchen and you can pick something out"

"Nah, I'm good"

"Hey Stan, I think someone's on the phone for you"

"Just transfer it in here, will you?"

He would not fucking budge. Jim would have to live in the transporter, forever.

By now, the whole office was in a tizzy and trying to think of ways to get Stan out of the room. After our many attempts we knew it would take a miracle, something unprecedented, so obviously, some kind of Apple product. And that's when it hit us, Stan LOVES iChat video chats. And really who doesn't? You can see AND hear the person when they're not even in the same room! Amazing.

So, the new plan was for me to tell Stan that our receptionist had invited him to a video chat via my computer (so he would have to get up to come see) and then someone would run in to get Jim out while Stan was busy enjoying the live picture and delayed audio of someone he could easily talk to in person by just taking the ten steps to the next floor.

I approached the room once more.

"Hey Staaa"

"Hey was someone on the phone for me?"

"ummmmmm, I think I'm getting a video chat!"

I quickly ran into my office and shouted, "Stan, Momo wants to video chat with you"

Instantly Stan popped out of his seat and was in my office chattin it up with Momo, the receptionist.

"Hey, Momo, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, heeeyyy"

"What's up?"

"So it does work...cool"

"Yeah..."

"Ok"

"Ok"

"Later"

"Bye"

Meanwhile, someone ran into Jim's office, threw open the transporter door (where Jim was sitting shoe less and almost out of oxygen) and pulled Jim out and into his desk chair.

After completing his very boring,very technologically groundbreaking video chat, Stan reentered Jim's office to find Jim sitting at his desk almost as if he appeared out of thin air, and shoe less.

"Whoa Jim, where did you come from?"

"Uhhh, I was working in the other room, on some graphics... for... your video."

"Dude I didn't even know you were here today"

"Yep, just cutting away (that's an editing term, editors are cool like that), I'm actually going to head back in there."

And just like that, Jim stood up and walked out of the room, right past Stan, in his socks.

I think I'm starting to understand what people mean when they talk about how rewarding one's workplace can be.




Monday, September 8, 2008

Message from Printer to Me

ERROR: undefined
OFFENDING COMMAND: E
STACK: 


Apparently I now have to ability to offend more than just my fellow man. My powers are growing.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

IM Convo with Heather

Me: I love France, I think about it all the time...like a boyfriend I never quite got over.

Heather: I think about Europe and New York, but more like a cousin I once kissed.

Me: ummm...what? Like embarrassed and ashamed?

Heather: No, more like a forbidden yearning.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

Creeps at Work


Colin is going to be on TV on Tuesday so he thought it would be fun to spruce up for the occasion. What a character. You go boy!

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Disney gets Dirty

This isn't the first time people (or the company itself) have taken something innocent and added some sex appeal, but I thought these ones were pretty badass.

Thanks Charles!

Friday, August 15, 2008

Find the Creep?


Don't see him?





There he is!

2 Things

I LOVE the Olympics.

Fanny packs are back. You heard it here first.

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

While Watching the Olympics

My friend Matt: I wonder if they called a truce in Georgia for the olympics?

Me: (in a southern accent) Well they didn't call a truce in Iraq, but Terror isn't going to the olympics.

Matt: (in a Bush accent): Terror ain't invited to the olympics.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Creeps in Colorado

I went on vacation last week (yay!) and my first stop was to visit my friend Nik in Boulder, Colorado. One day he had to work, so I decided to take myself to the local pool. As I crossed the street I ran into two young gentlemen who asked where I was going.

Me: The pool
Gentlemen: No, you're coming to the creek with us
Me: Ok

I soon found out that one of the guys had a girlfriend at home who was 7-months pregnant. But don't you worry, that didn't spoil his fun one bit. He still tried to hit on every female he laid his eyes on, including (but not limited to) the other dude's girlfriend who thought she might be pregnant as well. When I asked him why he wasn't at home taking care of his gf he replied, "do you know what women who are 7 months pregnant are like, she's always made at me." 

I thought about saying, "maybe it's because you're drunk at noon on a tuesday", but I didn't want to be rude. I reserve rudeness specifically for my good friends and family.

At this point in the story you might be wondering why I would hang out with people such as these and well... it goes like this:

1. I was already wearing bathing suit 
2. The pool cost SIX DOLLARS and the creek is FREE
3. I had sneaking suspicion that these guys would make great material for this blog

For those of you who are still thinking this story reeks of Natalee Holloway, don't worry, they only tied me up in a dark basement for like 3 days. And there was a heat wave so I didn't mind (kidding of course). 

Anywho, on our way we were retrieved by the other guy's girlfriend and then we picked up the biggest creep of all and his blue pit (who was actually very cute, but ended up beating the shit out of another dog while we were there, but that's another story all together). 

Once we got to the creek everyone started drinking and enjoying other substances...things like vitamin D (you know, from the sun, what did you think I was referring to?). When people get loosened up and aren't used to being around a person as short as me, they find it hard to stop commenting on my height and take it upon themselves to say things that are SO original like, "Where did Katie go? Oh I didn't see you down there" HAHAHA!! I get it. I'm short, so you can't see me because I'm just sooooo short. Congratulations you made an observation and remembered a joke and THEN you were able to repeat it in this specific situation AND you were inebriated. Wow, you know, when I say it like that it is quite remarkable, especially when you consider that these boys obviously can't even put on a condom correctly. 

So everyone is there and we're all making jokes about how amazingly small and young looking I am, and this is when the biggest creep of all decides to speak up on my behalf by saying, "You know, I actually think it's really hot that you look so young."

Me: I don't know how to respond to that.
BCOA: Why
Me: Does that mean you like to do little girls?
BCOA: (in a totally stoned voice) uhhhhhh....I was just trying to say you're hot.

And this is when he hung his head in shame and walked away for a total of five minutes after which he came back to try again. 

Sunday, August 3, 2008

Blimponeering

The other day, my friend Kristin and I were enjoying a beer on the roof of my office and we spotted a blimp. Instantly I started to comment on how lame blimps are. "Blimps are lame", I spouted.

Kristin: Yeah, they can't be that effective at advertising, all it says is "DirecTV" it doesn't even have a call to action.

Me: I think the only person who should be allowed to have a blimp is P. Diddy.

Kristin: Oh look at that... it does have their number on the bottom... and the season premiere of Mad Men is on Sunday.

Me: Mad Men is the best. I'll support Mad Men on the side of a blimp.

Kristin: Who flies blimps anyway?

Me: I have no idea. Do you need training or what? Maybe it's like when cops can't cut it and they become security guards.

Kristin: I really don't know anything about blimps.

Me: This is why everyone should have an iPhone. If I had an iPhone I could wikipedia this shit right now.

I'm a curious person and today I remembered I still no nothing about blimps. I don't know anyone who's ever been in one let alone knows how to operate one. Naturally, I thought wikipedia would have the answers to all of my questions and surprisingly it did not. It did clear one thing up though, a Zeppelin is not the same thing as a blimp. Apparently a blimp is considered a non-rigid (no supporting framework or keel) airship while a Zeppelin is a rigid airship. You can read more here.

The best site I found is this one. I has lots of nifty facts about blimps.

Apparently one who flies a blimp is just a Blimp Pilot. BORING. I prefer blimponeering

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Magic and Fun are Waiting for You

When I was a small child I used to love the show Zoobilee Zoo. The other day my friend showed me this video which provided the perfect balance of nostalgia, humor and well...horror. I won't ruin the video for you, but let's just say the animals are a lot more "mature" in this version. The best part is definitely the synchronized jump towards the end. You can check out more TV intros re-done here. Who knows, maybe your favorite childhood show will be there as well. How magical! 

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Sign Me Up


A couple of weeks ago my mother and grandmother were visiting and we decided to treat ourselves to pedicures. I have never had a pedicure for many reasons, which include the following:

1. I hate feet therefore feel uncomfortable forcing someone I don't know to touch and clean mine.
2. They use the same tools on everyone, gross.
3. I've heard it can hurt like a bitch.
4. And you want me to pay you how much for this uncomfortableness???

So why did I say I would go? 

1. Finding ways to kill time with my relatives was proving more difficult with each passing hour and the other option was seeing Hancock (no thank you).
2. I live in New York, my feet are nasty.
3. My roommate told me this particular place was clean.
4. My mom offered to pay.

So we get to the salon/spa/pedicure place and they tell us to sit down and wait. As we sit there pretending to read 3 month old copies of ladies home journal, we hear a commotion in the back (WHERE THE PEDICURES ARE GIVEN). Some girl has just been nicked with one of the tools and now she is bleeding. Her friend tells the lady to get her some alcohol to clean the wound. The woman gets up and we all assume that the problem has been taken care of. At this point I start to feel uneasy, but not uneasy enough to go watch Will Smith pretend like his career didn't end in 1993. 

About 30 minutes later, not only are we STILL waiting for our pedicures, but we hear the same girl cry out, "You're going to put nail polish on it? Are you crazy? It's still bleeding! It's been bleeding for half an hour! You are going to get a doctors bill from me in about two weeks for this shit!"

The friend soon joins and start to lecture the woman about how she was supposed to put alcohol on it, and how her friend's toe is going to get infected, and fall off, and it will all be this woman's fault. At this point, my mother, grandmother, and I all look at each other and say, "Let's get out of here." 

Needless to say, I have yet to receive a pedicure.

However, I did see this "report" on CNN the other morning about a new kind of pedicure where fish eat the dead skin off of your feet. Now, I know it sounds questionable, but I saw the video and it looked a hell of a lot more pleasant than having a human put sharp metal objects to your and slice off your cuticles one-by-one. The fish don't even have teeth! One lady said that she has had calluses throughout her life and no pedicure has been able to completely demolish them... until now. I figure it won't be long until they make this service available in New York, so when they do I will be sure to document. If the pedicure is as good as they say it is, I may even post a picture of my feet! 


Thursday, July 17, 2008

This Weeks Creep


So you know that weird old man from Family Guy who has a crush on Chris? He was on my elevator this morning. I AM NOT KIDDING. I was standing there minding my own business and this hunched over old man gets in and says to me, "You all jettin' and set to go there?"

Me: I guess so...

Old Creep: Happy times... (and he said it all shaky, just like the cartoon)

Me: You too?

Then he just got off the elevator like it was perfectly normal to say happy times, in the elevator, to a stranger, at 9am. 


Thursday, July 10, 2008

For Serious?

My friend sent me this link and I had to share because it's just so ridiculous. I mean if you can't trust Iran, who can you trust? 

 

Monday, July 7, 2008

Crazy Subway-man Quote of the Day

Does anyone know how to get to Sesame Street? I'm trying to get to Sesame Street cause Sesame Street's got bitches.  

LOST

Television series on DVD can be a great thing. I have come to consider them the modern girl's ice cream. If you are looking for a lo-calorie way to ignore your problems, DVD-TV is the way to go. But just like our high-calorie friends Ben and Jerry, DVD-TV has consequences too...

It all started last week when my roommate was re-gifted the first three seasons of LOST. They looked so harmless sitting there on my TV stand. I wasn't doing anything, so I popped a disc in the DVD player, then another, and then another. Next thing I know, it was 3am and I was saying to my roommate, "come on, just one more, what's 40 more minutes?" It hasn't even been a week and I am half way through season 2. I left my roommate behind discs ago, so I am now confined to watching them alone in my room, on my macbook. My friends have tried to get me out of the house, but how can I leave when Walt is out in the jungle all alone? They just don't understand me. I have to stay, I have to know what happens. Summer will come again next year. What's so great about the sun anyway? Has the sun won 8 Emmys? I didn't think so.


Sunday, June 29, 2008

Get Your Freak On

My roommate Jen and I were headed out last night and as we walked down the street a truck of NYC firemen drove past. As they drove by they waved at my roommate and she waved back. Now I knew we were both looking good so I congratulated her and jokingly said, "girl, you got your game on tonight"

This boy that stands on the street handing out coupons for the local sneaker shop overheard me and replied, "That's right!" We all laughed and continued on our way. 

This evening I was headed home and I passed the same young man outside the sneaker shop. We locked eyes and I knew that he knew who I was. I suddenly became aware that I was still wearing the same clothes that I had on last night...He gave me a knowing nod and I knew he was thinking, "Girl got her game on las night." I wanted to say, "It's not what you think sneaker boy", but I knew there was no point, so I straightened my skirt, held my head up and just kept walking.
 
I love me neighborhood.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

The New Yorker

After being in New York for a year I have gotten in the habit of carrying reading material for the train. Some people listen to music, others beg for money, and workaholics like to type emails while they stare at the top right corner of their blackberry, so as not to miss the second their mobile service is restored. All of these options are appealing, but I feel that reading is the superior choice and here's why:

1. Reading material doesn't run out of batteries
2. It doesn't disturb your neighbor
3. The Jonas Brothers are less embarrassing when being read about
4. If you get stuck on the train for a long time, you can eat it
5. People will think you're smart

For some time I have been carrying Time magazine, which was purchased for me as a gift, but I have been in search of something a little more substantial. I finally decided on The New Yorker and after two weeks of anticipation, I finally received my first issue. That's right, I subscribe to The New Yorker, and I am here to tell you, The New Yorker is cool.

For one, unlike Time, it has articles that are longer than a page and weren't on CNN a week earlier. Also, I just like what it seems to say about me. Reading Time I always felt like an AP government student. Now, with The New Yorker, I feel like an intellectual, somewhat liberal, honest-to-gosh, new yorker. It's like being part of an exclusive club. I don't even have to flash the cover because the cartoons are a dead giveaway (for others of my kind at least). I've already had at least three stimulating conversations that never would have happened if it weren't for this fine collection of modern literature conveniently delivered to my door.  

In fact, the only thing that's not cool about me subscribing to The New Yorker, is how much I've been talking about the fact that I subscribe to The New Yorker. I keep interjecting into conversations with phrases like, "Yeah, I saw an interesting review of that in The New Yorker" or "according to The New Yorker..." I feel like Joey on that episode of Friends where he buys only the V volume of an encyclopedia and all he brings up in conversation are topics that start with V. How about that Vesuvius? 

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Note to Self

Don't put something somewhere if the whole time you're thinking, "I'm never going to remember I put this here", especially if it's your favorite red dress and you're hiding it on a hanger underneath your winter coat.

Seriously what's my problem? Maybe it's the thrill of the chase. 

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Can you repeat that?

Today my friend received a text message from his roommate that read "I have a lot of sausage". As it turned out, his roommate has decided to write a text that was so long he had to send it in two parts and my friend had read the second part first. All his roommate was trying to tell him was that he was making spaghetti (with sausage in the sauce) and he wanted to know if my friend would care for any, because he had a lot of sausage.

Little miscommunications like this always tickle my fancy, especially when they go on for a while AND involve your coworkers. Awkwardness+coworkers is almost always a good time. An incident last week went a little something like this:

Scene: Lunch with co-workers (who happen to include my boyfriend). Everyone sits around a large bar eating and talking amongst themselves. One employee (Stephanie) reads New York magazine.  

Stephanie: Did you know the average amount of apartments for a woman is 6 and for a man it's 37?

Me to my boyfriend: How many apartments have you had?

Boyfriend: Oh I dunno, there were a few in college and the one I shared with my friend, and...

Stephanie abruptly: Are you seriously going to do this in front of us???

Me: What? I just want to know how many apartments he's had.

Stephanie: I said partners not apartments.

Boyfriend: Oh god, that could have gone on for a while.






Sunday, June 15, 2008

If my father were a transexual

I would most definitely get him this for Father's day.  

Don't forget to call your Dads!