The Cat's Meow

Don't You Know Where I'm Lyrically At?

2005-04-22T07:58:00.000-07:00

Hello !! Long time no blog. After being inspired by Lynn's comment on Brooke's blog about how her friend Marie thought that instead of "I ain't no Hollaback girl" Gwen Stefani was declaring, "I ain't no Harlem black girl." This got me thinking, my friends and I are AMAZING when it comes to hearing and singing the wrong lyrics to all types of songs. So, for your entertainment, here are some of the doozies that my friends and I have come up with over the years.

One of my earliest memories of wrong lyrics, has to be when the whole boy band movement was in full string. And as a good teenager, I lapped up all of the boy bands, *NSYNC, Backstreet Boys, LFO, 98 Degrees, etc. So one day, while listening to "Think About You" by LFO (Lyte Funkie Ones, for those who were wondering). My two friends start singing along.

What the Lyrics Actually Are: Got me trippin', showing off your rose tattoo, right above your ankle...
What my Friends Sang: Got me trippin', showing off your rose tattoo, right about your raincoat...

okay, raincoat and ankle, sound so much alike. But yet, here's another good one, courtesy of my friend from High School. The song she will be butchering today is, "Country Grammar" by Nelly

What The Lyrics Are: I'm going down, down baby, your street in a range rover, street sweeper baby, cocked ready to let it go, shimmy shimmy cocoa puff, listen to me now, light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now
What my Friend Said: I'm going down, down baby, your street towards the rainbow, late sleeping baby, cocks are ready to let go, shimmy shimmy cocoa pops, listen to me now, light it up and take a puff, pass it to me now

Even NELLY can be butchered a lyrical novice gets a hold of his poetry. But perhaps some of the best have come from one of my favorite bands, Fall Out Boy. They have alot of hard to understand lyrics, so what's a girl to do? Make up her own of course.

This song, "Dead on Arrival" had alot of wrong lyrics in it, well perceived by my friends and I, at least.

What's Being Sang: Well it goes so deep between me and this loss of sleep, over you.
What I Sing: Well it goes so deep between me and this loss of sleep, babababooooo.

Another good one is:

What's Being Sang: This is side one, flip me over
What I Sing: Busy sidewalks, flip me over

When it comes to Fall Out Boy, sometimes it sounds like they are saying something else, than what they are saying, which is when the dedications of my putting people's names into the songs comes into play. In "Grand Theft Autumn," the song actually becomes about my friend Janine.

What's Being Sang: You need him, I could be him, I could be an accident but I'm still trying.
What I Sing: Janiiiiine, I could be him, I could be an accident but I'm still trying.

And last but DEFINITELY not least, one of my favorite misheard lyrics in the whole. This comes from a band called, Name Taken, and definitely one of my favorites. This song is called, "Cover Up" and it's amazing, but I'm the only person who can make a song about breaking up, seem like a song about food.

What's Being Sang: Do you remember when you and I, were less than us and we?
What I Sing: Do you remember when you and I, were less than a sandwich?

Who doesn't love sandwiches? Speaking, I think I might go have one.

What's In Your Wallet...or umm...Purse?

2004-11-24T10:36:00.000-08:00

Here we go, based on Brooke's last blog, she asked us all to join in and blog about the contents of our purses. So this is what my includes...

- Work Photo Id (on nifty nylon lanyard)
- Car Keys (complete with 5 of those discount cards from, Shop Rite, CVS, DSW, Lady Foot Locker, Contempo Casuals, and GNC)
- A Bottle of Arizona Iced Tea with Honey (This seriously fits, I'm not lying)
- Two packs of cigarettes (1 Parliment Menthol Lights, 1 Marlboro Menthol Lights)
- My Wallet
- Two Checkbooks
- Notes Josiah and I write to each other in class
- Tag from $108 French Connection jeans I bought on Sunday
- Directions on "How To Care for an Above the Neck Piercing"
- Receipt for Utz Brand Potato Chips (Dated 11/23/04)
- Good Charlotte's Album "The Chronicles of Life And Death"
- "Freedom Lights The Way" Matches
- Receipt from the Liquor Shop
- Package of 4 Energizer AA Batteries
- Cell Phone
- One Oxandrin Pen (My company makes this drug)
- One Good Charlotte/Sum 41 Concert ticket
- Two Lighters
- One Hair Tie
- Three Tutti Dolci Lip Glosses in: Chocolate Fondue, Creme Brulee, and Sugar Wafer
- One Covergirl Compact in Translucent Honet
- Two Anti-Bacterial Lotions (in Coconut Lime Verbena and Moonlight Path) and one Anti-Bacterial Gel (In Moonlight Path)
- Four Feminine Products
- $38 in Paper Money
- Four quarters, 17 dimes, 12 nickles, 12 pennies, 1 Aruban Florin, and 1 Aruban 10 cent piece.
- And finally, in the back pocket I have 21 Trojan condoms.

Damn, I have alot of baggage. Now, I ask you, who has better stuff in their purse, Brooke or I??

Friends Forever

2004-11-10T10:01:00.000-08:00

Okay I haven't posted in a really long time. So now I'm going to dedicate this post to some of the best memories my friends have presented me with over the last few years. These will be in depth, so everyone knows what I'm talking about, and sure to please those who know what I'm talking about and were there.

My first friend memory happened on Sunday, and rings fresh in my mind. Amanda, who we all know is a light weight, was sitting at Jose Tejas with me, Ashley, and Regina when we were trying to figure out what to do after we left. Amanda then comes into the conversation, visibly intoxicated.

Amanda: You know what's fun?

The rest of us: No, what?

Amanda: We should go to Wegman's, go down the candy aisle, take candy, then weigh it.

Allison: *blank stare*

Ashley: *puts head in hands*

Regina: What?!?

Amanda: C'mon, it's fun.

Later that night after Amanda sobered up a little bit, and talked to my dad (which she loves to do while inebriated) I was driving her home, and she asked me if I wanted the candy that she had weighed and purchased at Wegman's.

Amanda: What a chocolate covered pretzel or a Swedish fish?

Allison: I don't want your stupid candy, stop pushing it on me. Why

did you get it anyway?

Amanda: I really wanted to weigh it.

So now, all you guys who wanted to date Amanda, now you know the way to her heart, the candy aisle at Wegman's so she can weigh candy. That's it. Dream date for Amanda.

Next good fun memory. This one comes from Lauren. She's my partner in crime. One night at a club, we ran into Theo from Road Rules. So after much convincing, we actually ended up kinda kidnapping him and bringing him from Clifton to Edison. By telling him that it was only a 20 minute drive. Lauren, Jenny, and I kept yelling at each other because everyone except for me was extremely drunk (which actually is odd), to which out of nowhere, Theo yells to us. "CHILL OUT BITCHES !!!" at the top of his lungs. Thanks for helping in the Theo kidnap, Lauren :)

This is a recurring memory, because well, whenever I see this kid he says the same thing to me, that he said when we were 14. My friend Danny, who I've known for 17 years, was drinking beer one day when we were 14. And apparently I must have asked him how the beer was. Because this is what he replied with:

"I had some beer. And it was warm. And I was like, 'uh, warm beer.'"

That just reminds me of the innocence of my childhood. Not liking warm beer. How naive we were.

Well, that's my friends, and how much fun we are. If you ever want to hang out with us, send a personal cheque, traveller's cheque, cash, or your credit card number to:

Some Real Friends

1000 Loser Way

Carteret, NJ

07008

Oh Sweet Nectar

2004-10-29T06:59:00.000-07:00

Brooke brought to my attention yesterday that I haven't blogged in a while. Well, she's right. I haven't blogged in a while. And this morning I was supposed to be at work at 8 am. Well, I came in at 9. Cause I hit the bar a little too hard last night. Makes me think of the first time I got plastered (in college). So here it is. In all of it's entirety.

Three years ago, I was attending, Temple University in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I also decided that it would be a good idea to pledge a sorority my first semester freshman year. And we all know what the leads to, binge drinking and promiscuous sex. Sex, I didn't fall into that so much. Drinking, however, I fell into that like it was a swimming pool of beer and I was balancing myself on the edge. It was fabulous. I still love it to this day. But hell, this was underage drinking. There was an aura to it. There was a sense of danger, if I got caught, I'd get into a lot of trouble. I liked that feeling. I wanted to have it all the time. So here's my story:

It's the second or third week at school, I rushed, got into Delta Zeta. It's a Saturday night. Since it's still early in the semester, you're still hanging out with all the people who live on your floor and in your building. I'm with maybe 5 or 6 people from my dorm, and we're walking up and down Broad Street looking for a party. It's a blackout night for frats, which means that they can't party at all, since they just took pledges. So Saturday night, we're 18, that means there's nothing to do. We could go out to Penn or Drexel, but who wants to pay for a cab?

While walking on Broad Street, one of my new sisters comes up to me, asks me what I'm doing, to which I naively reply, "I'm looking for a party." She looks at me and laughs at me a little bit, (come on, one look at me screamed Freshman) and tells me to come with her to her apartment. So I go. There is drinking, sisters, everything. We're drinking beer, doing shots, everything. All of a sudden, the hard liquor runs out, fine you know, cause there's still a keg, but a bunch of us were doing shots. One of my sisters, Anita, says, "there's no more vodka, but I do have that home made liquor that Christine left here." We take it out and basically start doing shots of moonshine. Shot after shot after shot. Finally, around 3am I stumble home. My roommate went home for the weekend, but she IMs me as soon as I take off my away message. Her name was Stef. This is how the conversation roughly went:

S: How was your night?
A: giood, i drianke a littike
S: What?
(two minutes later)
A: I drank
A: I don't feel so well
S: Don't throw up in the room, my parents are coming tomorrow.
A: Okay.
(15 minutes later)
S: Alli, you okay?
A: I threw up a little.
S: WHERE?
A: Well, remember when we got the newspaper the other day, and we left it on the floor?
S: Yeh...
A: Good thing it was there. Cause I'm like a puppy, train me and I'll go on the paper.
S: ALLI ! THE ROOM IS GOING TO SMELL !! My parents are coming !!
A: It was just a little, I made it to the bathroom. I already threw out the paper, washed the spot with bleach, and febreezed the whole room. No one will know anything.
S: Where did you learn all this?
A: Elementary, my dear Stefani. Elementary.

I swear that's how the conversation went. Because I have it saved on my computer. I'm so slick and suave, and I can throw up on the paper.

So yeh. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

PS: Halloween party tonight !!

This Is Dedicated to the One, The Only, Lynn Gallo

2004-10-25T09:40:00.000-07:00

Ever wonder what it's like to be tortured? Well, become acquainted with Lynn Gallo. She'll email you at work, she'll tell you to call her, then acted annoyed that you did. She'll tell you that you suck, then she'll tell you that you owe her a million dollars because she doesn't like the same baseball team that you do. This is what it's like to NOT work for Lynn Gallo. Because, she's NOT MY BOSS!! We don't even work in the same proximity of another.

Granted, knowing Lynn has it's perks. She tells you her way cool Halloween costume, and about things that she likes to do in her spare time. But then, she'll tell you you're invited places, BUT DOESN'T INVITE YOU ANYWHERE, when you invite her to your way cool Halloween party.

Lynn Gallo is bad news. She can micromanage you from across 4 towns. I don't know where she contracted these horrible super powers, but she has them, and I'm just letting you know to beware. I think she's a littl evil. Plus, she smells a little.

I've Got No Ideas for a Title

2004-10-20T09:46:00.001-07:00

This is in response to Amanda's latest post on her blog. Please visit Blonde Girl to see what I am referring to.

Okay, I'm not one to judge anyone. But I totally disagree with her post. Not just because this particular boy in question is an EXTREMELY good friend of mine. But every now and then things happen. A little background, this guy who Amanda went out with in actuality is really shy. It was a big deal for him to call her. And despite the fact that he really wanted to go out with her, there was a lot of coaxing to be done in order for him to build up the confidence to call her.

Also, for the not knowing where they are going, I've been on many a date where the guy asked me to hang out and I've had to chose the restaurant. Not because I'm a controlling little bitch, but because guys are extremely indecisive. It has nothing to do with the fact that he didn't know what do, but merely with the fact that he was so nervous he didn't want to suggest a place where she didn't want to go. He was trying to be considerate. Not everyone has Herculean confidence, and little things can sometimes be really hard to do.

I think I'm going to take this point by point, so heading onto number 2. If someone used to be an ex-drug dealer, you know what that probably wasn't one of their proudest moments. But say that they kept this a secret? Would you want to know in the beginning, or let's say you get serious and something comes up down the line. Would you rather be shocked and betrayed after you've been with them so long, or know in the beginning and although you might not like it, have the chance to get over it and not judge them on their past, but look at what they are doing now?

Number 3: This goes back to being nervous. When I'm nervous, I blab on and on and on and on about the things that I know about. Maybe that's what this kid felt like what going on. You don't know. I don't know if anyone has ever seen a picture of Amanda, but she's an extremely pretty girl. If I were a guy who were out on a date with her, and I hadn't known her for very long. I'd be nervous and end up talking about the things I know something about. I know absolutely NOTHING about cars. I've been on dates where the guys talk about cars and nothing but cars for the entire time we're together. I've been on a date where in the middle of December, it's freezing out, and this kid and I are driving, someone with a nice car pulls up along side of him, they proceed to drag race down this road. Then at the stop light, rolls down, MY window and asks the kid what kind of engine is in it. How's that for inconsiderate? Also, I ended up dating him for 9 months.

Number 4: The only thing I have to say for this is that if someone was against drinking, would you expect your date not to have a drink? I mean they aren't making you do it, so what's the problem. I don't know, I just have problems with judgement on someone has different interests than you. Even though they are illegal, what's the problem.

Number 5: This is inexcusable. I mean come on, a drunk person is NEVER fun. Especially on a date, unless I am one of the drunk people, then the night inevitably gets more exciting. But I do agree with Amanda on this one.

Now, just to say one last thing. I didn't write this blog to say that I think Amanda should give this guy another chance. If she didn't like him, then I'm no one to force her to go out with him again. But my intention was to say that just because you don't like something, doesn't mean that other people don't like it. Granted, drugs are a bad bad thing, but you know what, everyone has their vices, and if they chose that, then that's fine. But oh well, what can I do? I vented. Just so you know, this kid, despite a lingering drug habit is one of the nicest, sweetest, kindest people that I know.

Come on kids, let me have it. I know it's coming.

Once Upon A Time...

2004-10-12T10:16:00.000-07:00

Long long ago, in a place far faraway, there was a little girl who needed a friend at a Christmas party. Enter, Neal. Neal is the best kinda friend who you only see at Christmas parties and weddings a girl could ever. This is about all of the wonders of Neal. And believe me, there are many.

When I was younger, the idea of Neal was just a myth. Being that my friends and I were all in band (see my morning smut contributors), Neal was of legend to us. He was an amazing saxophone player, who dabbled in flute. He also had another credit to his name, he was a master of vocal stylings. To meet Neal would be like meeting royalty. And believe me, it was.

At the annual Christmas party thrown by Brooke's husband, Brandon. I came across Neal. Not knowing what to say, I did what any girl would do when meeting Neal. I threw down one mean Kid 'n' Play dance and hoped he would join in, for I heard that not only was "Papa Got A Brand New Bag" his forte, but also said dance. From this, a tradition was born. Everytime Neal and I see each other. Every function, even the wedding, the Kid 'n' Play dance must be done at least once. Although sometimes, I must do extensive warming up, while he can go into it at anytime.

Another thing one must know about Neal, is that he can read minds. Okay, maybe just Brooke's. But at another Christmas party, while playing Taboo. It was insane. Brooke would say, "uhhh..." and he's like, "A PALM TREE!!!" and it would be right. Creepy? Coincidence? With Neal, I think not.

In honor of this wonderful human being, for way too many reasons than I can list here. I will compose a lovely poem for Neal. Here it goes:

Missing from my life for many days
Long for all of those Kid 'n' Plays
Fabulous doesn't begin to describe you
Unique laugh that identifies you
Christmas time can't come fast enough
Yes Neal, it's you I miss and luff.

It was more of an ode, as per to a Grecian Urn, but good enough for Neal. So, when stumbling upon this saint on earth, please do not hesitate to throw down one mean Kid 'n' Play, he'll love it, and know that somewhere out there, I'm thinking of him.

My Boredom = Josh's Gain

2004-10-08T10:10:00.000-07:00

Josh. Joshua. Joshie. These are some of the names that I call him. But when it comes down to it. One name cannot explain this remarkable human being. How was that for a opening line? I thought that it was pretty good. But honestly, this post is 100% dedicated to the one and only Joshua.

Alright, many many many moons ago, when I was a wee tot. Okay, I was 14, but hell, I'm pretty short. I was in the marching band, where I met this wonderful man. Josh. Okay. He wasn't so much of a man, as he was 14 as well, but he was on the road to becoming a man. So Josh liked my friend, so I did what any friend would do, forge a friendship with Josh. So what happens? Josh and I friends forever. Not so much, but I'm not getting into that.

Josh, as a friend, is the go to guy. You go to him when you need something. Advice about other boys. You go to him when you have a problem with your car. You go to him when you need concert tickets. Heck, you even go to him just cause you want to bother him. Does he care? Yeah just a little bit though. Not a whole lot, but he will call you and yell at you.

Joshua and I are however are the same exact person. Except he has a penis. I do not. Well, maybe. No, I just checked, I definitely don't. But we like alot of the same things. We both like cars, but he likes to play with them and fix them and make them go faster. I like to try and not crash them. We both like the same music. We might even rendezvous at a show every now and then. But Josh, well he's pretty much a cool guy.

I like Joshua because I can IM him, and this is how one of our conversations will go:

A: Hi
J: skank
A: dork
J: loser
A: douchebag
J: whore
A: moron
J: slut
A: okay, i can't think of anymore. how are you?

And it's like a ritual. We can't have a normal conversation before we do that. It's great. I love being degrated before having a conversation.

Okay, yeh, I'll also proposition Joshua many times a week. He says it's cause I need to get laid, I think it's because he's a sexy SOB. This is how that conversation will go:

A: So, your place or mine?
J: what?
A: When are we gonna hook up?
J: I don't know.
A: you wanna?
J: hold on...no.

I love rejection. I think that's why I take it so well in my life. It's all because of Joshua. Well, there you have it. A poorly written article about Joshua. I'm sorry this sucked but I needed to write a tribute to the wonder that is Josh. So, all in all. I love this stupid skank whore, Joshua. Not cause he's sexy, but because, he's grrrrreat.

The Wonderous World of Wite-Out

2004-10-07T13:33:00.000-07:00

As per request, I'm going to write about Wite-Out, or if you prefer Liquid Paper, because at my place of employment, Liquid Paper is all that I have at my disposal. So now, here is the history of Wite-Out. Think of this as if you were on the "Carousel of Progress" in Disneyworld. Cause that's what I like to do.

Back when they first invented paper, or papyrus, when they messed up writing out a long story in hierogylphics, they simply would make up some new papyrus which could take up to weeks. Therefore forgetting what the story was about and being forced to write it on the walls. Wite-Out was yet to be discovered.

Wite-Out was conceived from the idea of "white washing" a fence or a house. Think Tom Sawyer. You can convince anyone to use Wite-Out, right? That's why Tom was the original spokesman of Wite-Out. People would simply mix up some white paint in their backyards and then bring the paint into the house and "white wash" their mistake. But to make this idea really work, someone had to make it more practical.

Enter, Hewite I. Tout. Plagued with bad penmanship and a horrible speller, the teacher often punished Hewite by having the big paint can permanantly by his desk in the one room school house. This embarassed him greatly and he would often get in trouble at home because of all the white paint he would get on his clothes. One day, while watching his mother pickle beets, he stole one of the jars that she was using to pickle the beets, smaller than the paint can, he thought that maybe it would be less noticable. His older sister was an artist, and she had a lot of paint brushes. So when she was outside painting a scenery shot, he swiped one of her fine paintbrushed. He felt that something with a finer point would make getting rid of the mistakes easier and less sloppy. So by fashioned a device of a paint brush and a jar (with the paintbrush glued to the jar lid) the modern day Wite-Out was born. He got the name from all the kid's saying "He Wite It Out," a play on his name.

Today, Wite-Out is used in millions of offices around the country and it has also evolved to Yello-Out, Green-Out, or even Pink-Out for colored surfaces. Another big draw of Wite-Out is the fragrance. It comes in one, "snuff." You can inhale this stuff and you'll be on cloud nine for a good hour or two. Also, you can write things in it. I wrote out the name of myself and all my future cats.

Remember when using Wite-Out. Do not inhale your first time, it'll only make you sick. And shake before use, because if not, it's watery and who wants watery Wite-Out? Hewite would not approve.

Internet Dating and Some Plugs

2004-10-01T13:49:00.000-07:00

There's alot going on today. First of all, I went on what could only be not referred to as a "date" last night. I've resorted to meetin boys on the internet, out of sheer desparation. So, I went to this boy's apartment. Which wasn't a smart move, because who knows, he could have been a pedophile. He wasn't. He's actually really cute and really nice. Unfortunately, after what could be described as a lovely evening. He decided that he hates that I smoke. Which now, I think leads to weirdness. I don't know. He sent me fun and suggestive text messages all day yesterday. Now, absolutely nothing. Not a damn thing. I quit.

After one shot, i give up on internet dating. Back to selling myself to the highest bidder at the bars on Thursday nights. I knew I shouldn't have skipped out on Bar Night.

Onto plugs, we have ALOT today.

First of all, I have to plug myself. My friends, Ashley, Amanda, and Jin Hee have a new blog. Called...The Morning Smut. It's a fun, news style blog where we report on well, Smut. Visit us at:
The Morning Smut

Next up, the lovely Lynn has a blog that you all should read religiously. I sent her a poem. Which makes both of us insanely cool. Go visit Lynn's looniness at: Lynn's Lair

Amanda, my Co-Hoe, has a blog of her own which you can read all about the debachery of a Blonde Girl in the suburban setting of our town. Visit Amanda at: Blonde Girl

My final plug is a personal favorite. Ashley, who likes things that are round and invents dances called the booty ROUND, started a blog as well. I think blogging has become an epidemic. Go visit Ashley at: The Round

Enough plugging. Also, would you ask a girl to quit smoking if you only hung out with her once? Poll question of the day.

Reprehensible?!?

2004-09-30T11:41:00.000-07:00

This is a quote from Amanda's blog.

P.S.S.S.Ok last one, I swear! Coming Soon.. Lube Girls! My friend at work, Jin Hizzle and myself are writing a join Blog about the crazy happenings at work. It's going to be full of dirty and reprehensible fun!

Reprehensible?!? Amanda, your and Jin Hee's blog will be condemned?!? I'm scared. I don't know if my innocent naive eyes will be able to handle all of the reprehensible fun.

If you type reprehensible one too many times, it starts to look funny. Here, look:

reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible reprehensible

Looks funny, right?

By Popular Demand

2004-09-30T10:01:00.000-07:00

I've been asked to step away from the humor of being young, and go more towards a little bit of a randier subject. So, here it is by request of Amanda and Ashley here is the comericial for the Jiz-tainer®.

Scene: A white room, and Allison with a nice little outfit on.

Allison: Oh hello. I didn't see you there. Well, while I have you here, I have a question. Hand jobs getting you down? Have you ever been in the car in a deserted parking lot after 12 am, and your boyfriend says, "Hey sweetie, how about a hand job?" And the only thing you can think of is the leather interior of your car? Well, do I have the product for you.

The product magically appears in my hand.

The Jiz-Tainer®. It's small enough to fit in any backseat compartment and also, it is good for when your man is about to shoot it all over your parents car. You just insert the penis into the opening at the end and let it rip. Everything is contained in the Jiz-Tainer®. No messy clean up, and a hand job can happen at anytime with such a convient little gadget.

If you order now, you will receive, free of charge, the Jiz-Towel®. A small little cleaner-upper for when you get a little spillage. All for the low low price of $12.99. Don't let hand-jobs get you down anymore. Make them fun for everyone :)

*cheesy smile*.

There, I'm official raunchy. Well, not officially. I have to wait for Brooke and Patrick's blessing for that, but I mean, I'm well on my way.

To Clear The Air

2004-09-28T11:03:00.004-07:00

It has been brought to my attention that in my post, "You Gotta Have Friends," that I had inadvertently hurt Amanda's feelings when I called her the "ham" of the group. This was not my intention. And since I do not believe in retractions of opinion. I will now try to rationalize to the world, why I feel Amanda is "the ham" and why it is complimentary instead of derogatory.

First, let us look at the definition of the word, "ham." Straight from http://www.m-w.com/:

Main Entry: 1 ham Pronunciation: 'ham Function: noun Etymology: Middle English hamme, from Old English hamm; akin to Old High German hamma ham, Greek knEmE shinbone, Old Irish cnáim bone1 a : the hollow of the knee b : a buttock with its associated thigh -- usually used in plural 2 : a cut of meat consisting of a thigh; especially : one from a hog 3 [short for hamfatter, from "The Ham-fat Man," minstrel song] a : a showy performer; especially : an actor performing in an exaggerated theatrical style b : a licensed operator of an amateur radio station4 : a cushion used especially by tailors for pressing curved areas of garments- ham adjective

There you have it. A showy performer. Amanda with her blonde hair and all I've ever learned about theater is that one must over exagerate everything in order to portray something to the audience. I feel that instead of referring to Amanda as "a cushion used to especially by tailors for pressing curved areas of garments," that the bolded definition works best. But to make it more personal, I shall go on.

Amanda as a friend is very endearing. She is caring and sweet. She refers to things not by their real name, to get a laugh (ie. Goat Rider). Her cough, according to Jin Hee, is a laugh-ometer. Amanda is great. She's a singer and an actress, and sometimes a ballet dancer. She likes to have alot of fun, which is why she's the center of attention. She'll do anything for a laugh. I even have a picture of her grabbing her boobs. Just for fun ! It's not that she LOVES attention and she needs it all the time, instead, she likes to see her friends laugh. Which is her main goal. And if being a showy performer makes her friends laugh, then I am not in the wrong.

There it is, Amanda, you are a ham. Not a boiled or a candied ham, but a good friend ham. END OF DEBATE !

School Daze

2004-09-26T02:10:00.000-07:00

I know, unclever title, but that's how I feel. I wake up. Go to school, wander about the campus in an sleep deprived, cigarette induced haze all day, then I take a few classes which make me confuse the English language with French, so I'm still wandering thinking to myself, "Je me demande combien torture plus je vais avoir à endurer avant que je peux soit allé à la maison ce soir."* Then I realize, "I need to stop taking French when I'm thinking in it." Then I realize these four years (7 if you're me) we call college are some of the greatest times you'll have. You'll fall asleep in your car and miss class. You'll make witty comments and all the people in class will like you. You'll even fail an economics quiz or two. All in the name of higher education. So take this daze and cherish it, for you can't mooch off your parents forever.

Once you've started your fourth year of college and you're still a sophomore, things start to get a little hectic. Not that I'm stupid, but as you can see, I'm a little bit of a drinker. And well sometimes you just have to make sacrifices when it comes to school. I did, and now I'm paying for it. In blood, sweat, and bic pens. My favourite kid in class is the kid who never has a pen. He scours through his book bag, stands up and checks his pockets, looks through the bag one more time, then he quietly says, "Hey you have a pen I can use?" You look at him and say, "Idiot, it's behind your ear."

Professors though are my favorite people in the world at school. They always look a mess. Like they just came back from a hard tour in Iraq. Their hair is all disheveled. They never know where their attendance log is, and when you ask them to elaborate on something they say, "Oh you don't really need to worry about that." Then why bring it up in the first place? But really, professors dedicate their lives to educating the ruthless, deviant, misguided youth of America. What else could be better than that? Oh yeah, maybe running a brush through that hair.

College is a lot like high school. There are cliques. There are fights. There are suck ups. There are class clowns. I thought that my life was going to be so much different after I graduated high school, 4 years ago. Instead, I just have a higher paying job, and a lot less free time. I want to go back to high school where my biggest stressor was who I was going to take to the prom. Not if I don't get this contract out by 3:30pm, someone might actually kill me. The simple days of acne and akwardness. Whatever happened to that?.

However, college is a lot more fun that high school, just in the area that you can get up and leave the room whenever you want. You can go to the bathroom without asking. You can go outside and answer your cell phone. You can just get up and leave if you don't feel too guilty. Maybe it's easier to cut class in college because your professor is distracted by their overheads that they don't realize that you're not even there.

Another absolutely wonderful thing about college, is that you get homework. Everyday. I mean in high school, you had like all of this free time when you weren't, in the marching band, playing sports, illegally drinking when your friend's parents weren't home, or just sitting there in a IM induced coma, and you had like one assignment a week. In college where we have to basically support our drinking habits by working menial jobs, we get projects every other day. Have to sit through 3 hour lectures on rocks, and basically rot away on the computer typing into search engines, "Life After Napoleon: Was it All Fun and Games?" How about that for a social life? I'm thinking I would rather be drinking illegally in my friend's backyard.

College really looses its edge after a few years though. You realize that you hate walking across campus in 10 feet of snow. You also realize that you hate to walk. There have been times I've had to run across campus in like 2.5 seconds because a teacher decided to keep us after class, and I really wish that I had a Van Wilder-type golf cart to hop into. Then I realized that I would just have to dodge people the whole time and it would take me longer to get to class. And I'd probably just fall asleep in the back seat anyway.

Well all in all, college is something that we all need to suck up and go through. In the end, you'll get a fabulous little piece of paper that your parents probably paid upwards of $100K for you to get. And think of all the things you could have bought with that instead. Well, I guess a bright future is okay, but couldn't they give out gold watches too?

*translation: I wonder how much more torture I am going to have to endure before I can go home tonight

One Please.

2004-09-24T12:53:00.000-07:00

Being single isn't all that bad is it? You don't have anyone to answer to, you can hit on everyone, and there's no one to fight with cause you're not spending all of your time with a member of the opposite sex. When it comes to being single, I would say that I'm an expert. Despite a minor slip up that lasted 8 months, I've been single for the greater part of my life. This is something that I'm particularly proud of, because when my friends are slipping in and out of relationships, pining over boys, and sad over their demise relationships, while I do feel for them, I have no problem saying, "one please."

Being single and in your early 20s is one of the best blessings you can receive. You're out there, you're playing the field. You're swinging for the fences. Everyone's trying to score, including you. And when you finally slide into homebase, you realize, that you never really liked baseball before this moment.

The best scene for any person, male or female, who is single is the bar. Any bar you go into, you're bound to find at least one person who will try to at least round first with you. The hard part is weeding out the ones who are worth the time. I try to use the liquor scale method. There are three levels of this scale. And it all depends on the conversation, remember that. You can't solely judge a guy by the method, take all the factors into consideration. The first level is the guy you want to avoid. Scene: You're at a bar, the guy comes up to you. You haven't seen him all night, but out of nowhere he asks if he can buy you a drink. You say sure. You are drinking a mixed drink, then all of a sudden, there's a $1 draft beer in front of you and a guy looking for your sole attention from the rest of the evening. This guy is the "Cheap Beer" guy. He was good in college, and maybe even before you turned 21. Now, however, you're looking for something with fuller flavor and alot more depth.

The next level on the scale happens sort of like this. You're sitting there at the bar, and you keep meeting eyes with a guy from across the bar. He sends the exact drink that you have over to you. You mouth thank you. But then he doesn't come over for the rest of the night, but he keeps sending you drinks. Finally, when he's gotten enough drinks in you, that's when he makes your move. This guy isn't that bad of a guy, but what you must do is make your move after he sends over the second drink. Apparently he's plying you with liquor so that way he thinks he has a better chance with you. This is the "You're Cute when I'm Drunk" guy. You need to nip this in the bud as soon as it starts to go down, or just let all of your friends know that under no circumstances should you go home with that guy. Unless he starts buying them drinks too, then well, you're screwed and you just chalk that night up to experience.

The last kind of guy, orders you a drink he thinks you would like, and it includes all top shelf liquor. It tastes really good and well you can't taste the liquor in it, and then he comes over to talk to you. This is "Top Shelf" guy. He's the one you wanna keep around. He's confident enough to buy you a drink that you might not have had before. He also will come up to you and not hide behind different ulterior motives. He's up front with no matter what he wants, whether it's conversation, a grab, or just your number and a little nookie later. Top Shelf guy might not be the one you want to go home with, but he'll be the one you probably do go home with.

What one must learn while being single is that they are fabulous even if they don't have someone to tell them that they are. I know that I'm the most fabulous person that I've ever met. Well what has that gotten me? Drunk at a diner place, not being able to talk to hot men, and well, sleeping alone every night. I think I'm pretty much ahead of things, wait until that relationship rears it's ugly head, I'll be singing a different tune. It'll probably sound something like "Sexual Healing."

A Plug

2004-09-24T09:46:00.000-07:00

Well, since Brooke plugged me and she's my inspiration for this little bit of humor. I would like to give her a little bit of a plug. GO TO HER BLOG WITH PATRICK !! IT'S GREAT AND WONDERFUL AND EVERYONE LIKES IT !!!!

http://brookenpatrick.blogspot.com

It's alot of fun, and you'll love all of the raunch that I seem to leave out of the world of a 20-something in today's dating world. Plus, Brooke almost won a billion dollars on TV. Who else can say that? Well, the 199 other people who were on the show, but do you know any of those people? NO!! Do you know Brooke? NO !! Well, sorta, I do, so now I feel cooler.

You've Gotta Have Friends

2004-09-14T13:31:00.000-07:00

When it comes down it, anyone you ask will tell you that they have the greatest group of friends that they could ask for. And you know what, I'll tell you the same exact thing. But really, where do you go if you say that you think your friends are the crappy people who ever existed? Then obviously, if I said that, then if you asked my friends, they'd tell you that I'm not such a great person, but I am, and so are my friends. In order to have a successful circle of friends, their have to be certain roles that each of you take on. You have the partner in crime, the mom, the out of towner, the friend from high school, and the ham. With each of these friends, they bring a little something to the group and because of this my friends are the best in the world.

Probably the friend you'll hear the most about because she's the most outgoing and the craziest things happen to her is Lauren. She's absolutely, 100% fun loving. She'll do anything to ensure that she has a good time. She's what you call a partner in crime. You want to do something and you've called everyone you could imagine, and no one wants to do it, you can call the partner in crime, and she'll be ready in 10 seconds flat. The partner in crime also will do what she has to do in order to get through something or make it worthwhile. One time we were down the shore at a bar, and she completely disappeared. I spent about an hour looking for her, and I heard nothing from her the entire night. Finally, two days later, she calls me and is like, "You'll never believe what happened to me..." She could have had to swim home from Austraila, and she'll be like, "That was the craziest night of my life, but I'm sure something will top it."

The out of towner friend is the one friend that you've had forever, but they move faraway and you have to go see them all the time, unless they come home to do their laundry. That's Janine. She's been my best friend for about 16 years. She's getting her undergraduates degree is Special Education and goes to a school in south central New Jersey. It's not that far, granted, but trying to find time to get down there and spend a sufficent enough time with her when we both aren't inebriated beyond belief is hard to do and hard to coordinate. However, she's the one that I've been through the most with. And whenever I get a little too big for my britches she'll be the first one who lets me know and will call me out on something stupid I did. I'll be like, "At my job I just got all these new responsibilities, and I think that I might be getting promoted soon." And she'll come out of nowhere and be like, "Yeah, well remember when you were in 2nd grade and that kid squirted mustard all over you?" I don't feel so important after a blow like that.

The ham is the friend that is constantly the center of attention, but it's not because they crave attention. Okay, yes it is, but it's not the annoying way. It's just the way they are. Amanda is like that. She was an actress in high school, and when we go to the karaoke bar once a week, it's like a Grammy award performance everytime, and the old drunk in the corner will her a standing ovation. Amanda has also done a lot of plays since we've graduated high school, so I've seen her in a few, and when I go to these things, I'll be outside smoking a cigarette and people will be talking, and out of nowhere I interject, "Oh yeah, well, I know Amanda." At that point, I feel more like a groupie than a friend.

The friend from high school is that one person where you can not see them for years, and the moment that you do it's like nothing has ever changed. You're making fun of all the people you went to high school with. You're making fun of people you work with, heck you're making fun of anything that walks by you when you see each other. That's Ashley. She and I are so much alike it's a wonder that we get along. We complain about the same things, we like the same things, and we even talk the same way. We make up parodies about everything and anything. It's a fun thing when Ashley and I get together. When we were in high school, we were on a band trip (yes yes yes, when I was a wee tot, I was in the marching, and damn proud), and we made up an entire parody to "Love Shack" about our friend who worked at Shop Rite. There was choreography and everything.

Then there is the mom. This is your friend that is always looking out for you no matter. It's like they are mom. That's Shannon. She's the oldest out of all my friends, at the ripe old age of 22, and she seems to be the most mature, on the outside. But when you get a few drinks on her, she couldn't care if you were hooking up with a bum ontop of a burning car. She's great like that, she has instructions on her, "To loosen up, just add liquor." She's probably one of my closest friends, and has just as much dirt on me as Janine does. I'll be talking to a guy, and be trying to make myself look a little cooler than I am, and she'll come in and blow up my spot. I'll be like, "Oh yeh, I've been to that place, it was good when I was there." And she'll come into the story, "Yeh it was great because you had 8 shots and were dancing with the bouncers by the end of the night, not to mention that cop you hit on, and you got to wear his hat." And I'll be like, "Wow, that wasn't me." And of course, she'll have photographical proof with her, in her monstrous pocketbook. Because, being the "mom" friend, she comes with the obligatory large purse.

When it comes to my friends, there's always something going on. Whether it's a party, a drama, or something just that happens to be going on it the background. There's always something. Just for an example, this past weekend, Amanda was in LA. Why you might ask, because her sister, won a chance to win a billion dollars from Pepsi. It's like, "Okay, drink a hell of a lot of Pepsi, then here's two plane tickets to Los Angeles, let's see if you can come home a billionaire." While she was out doing that, I was in New Jersey writing this column. Says alot for me, doesn't it?

Shannon, although she may be mom, she's also always looking out for my best interest. One night, when we were at the diner/restaurant/bar, she hadn't gotten to bar night. So I text messaged her with something along the lines as the guy I had a crush on was there and it was weird for us both to be there. She text messages me back in .1 seconds flat with, "Don't worry, I'm on my way." She's Captain Saves-The-Day, she comes in and everything is fine. I'm talking more, he's talking more. We are NOT hooking up, but at least hey I said more than, "Did I just kick you?"

I have a problem that when I start to drink and I'm around a guy I'm interested in, I start to buy rounds. Like not just one, but alot. I'd say upwards of four a night. My friends however, aware that I am making an ass out of myself, do not stop me. Why you ask? Because they are getting a piece of the action. I'm buying shots, and I'm buying pitchers, and I'm buying mixed drinks. All to impress a guy who's clearly only hanging around for the free liquor. But I leave a lot less wealthy than when I got there, and my friends, well they leave with a warm feeling in their heart, oh wait, that's just the last shot I bought them.

Friends are basically where it's at though. They are either your best asset or your worst enemy. They'll point out when you're being an asshole, or they'll let you go and figure it out for yourself. They'll buy you a pint when you're down, or they'll kick ya square in the ass when you need it. All in all without friends where would you be? I know I'd have more money because I'd have less people to buy a round for.

Too Young To Feel This Damn Old

2004-09-13T14:49:00.000-07:00

That's right. I feel old. I wake up early in the morning, work 8 hour sometimes, 11 hour days to go to sleep to wake up to do it again. But someone has to supply pharmaceuticals to the world, and it might as well be me.

Working at this company has made me realize alot of things. For example, the less people who see you, the more powerful you are. I have yet to see the CEO of this company. Yet I strangely fear him.

So, since my last couple of posts, I've decided that I want to write a book. I want to write a book about the strange horrors of living in surburbia, being young and looking for love. Not so much autobiographic, just a collection of instances and whatnot.

Whenever it comes down to it, I'm always the first to leave somewhere. This comes back to being old. And it never fails, one of my friends will always say to me, "You suck, you can't hang." Sometimes, I really just want to say, "You know what, it's 1:30 in the morning, I've been at school and work since 7am. I think that if after 18 1/2 hours that I decide I'm tired and want to sleep, I should be allowed to. After all you woke up 15 minutes before we decided to go out."

When it comes down to it, I'm going to be hunched over when I'm an old lady. And it's not my fault. It's society's. When I go to work, I spend more time walking between the 12th and 14th floors than I do doing anything else. Not only that, my office enforces a strict dress code where the only pants I'm allowed to wear look best with 4 inch spiked heels. So I'm walking up and down the stairs all day, walking back and forth to the copy machine, delivering things, and all the while ruining my posture with every step. Whatever happened to those shoes that "looked like a pump, felt like a sneaker?" Because I know these look like a pump and feel like Chinese Water Torture.

You know you're starting to get old when you get to the weekend, you don't do anything that has to do with drinking and Monday morning comes and you're not anywhere near ready to go and face the work week. I had a grand total of three drinks this weekend, one for each day of the weekend, and on Monday morning, I felt like I was on a major bender all weekend. Really the most excruiating thing I did all weekend was drive to Pennsylvania. I used my right foot more than anything this weekend, and I feel like I drank a 5 gallon container of vodka. That's it, I'm putting my right foot on a time out. No strenuous activity for a while. Which would probably help my shoe problems as well.

Thursdays are my favorite day of the week. They are hell to get through, but once I get to about 9pm, it's completely worth it. I go to school two days a week from 8am - 12:30pm and then again from 6pm - 9pm. Which doesn't really seem that bad, but when you factor in the 4 hours of work from 1pm - 5pm, it turns into a really long day. Now that I'm 21, my friend and I have decided to not become 100% lushes and have a designated "bar night." Unfortunately, the only time either one of us could get this together was on a Thursday. So at 9 o'clock on a Thursday, when I'm starting my 13th hour of the day, that's when I can finally drink. And that's what I need, but we go to this local diner/restaurant/bar place, where enivitably there are about 7 guys to everyone girl, so I'm getting wasted at record speed because I don't have to spend any money. But then you spot that one guy across the bar, and you want him to come over and talk to you, but since all the other guys in the bar are flocking to you like a vultures do to a carcass, you're screwed. You've got three different conversations going on, and you're making eyes across the bar to the one guy who's not talking to you. Finally when all of the excitement has faded away. You look to where he was standing to make your move, and he's gone. Isn't that just my luck.

My other least favorite thing about bar night is that the guy that I have the biggest crush on, is the one guy that I can't think of anything to say to. Any other person, including of the male species, I can talk their ear off. This one guy, we could be sitting right next to each other and the only thing I can muster up to say is, "Oh I'm sorry, did I kick you?" Really, I need to work on my hot guy social skills.

At work, I have to type alot of memos. I'm a really good typist, but the only problem is that I think using AIM has scarred my typing skills. When instant messaging first became popular, I was about 15. So I used little things like, "OMG, that guy is so hott." Or, "BTW" for by the way. Other problems occur when I have to type, "you" I'm so used to going with u that it looks like it's in some sort of cryptic code the first time I type it. Now my friends find themselves talking in initials, so now when I'm in the office and want to tell someone to keep me in the loop of something that's going on, I find myself stopping myself from saying, "I don't want to be OTL, so please, just keep me informed." OTL? What is that? You and I might know that it means "Out of the loop," but these corporate types just think that I'm that weird girl who's first langauge is shorthand, WTF?

The one thing that doesn't make me feel old is the fact that only one set of my friends is married. And they are 5 years older than me, which is completely acceptable. When my friends who are 20 and 21 start getting married before me, I know that I'm either the biggest loser, or I feel too old that I've skipped that part in my life and went right to being divorced.

And finally, I think that I need to lighten up a little bit, my one friend, works when she feels like it, calls out if she wants to go to the bar, and will hook up at will. She has the most rewarding life of anyone I know. I on the otherhand, work all of the time, take care of all my responsibilities, but yet when it comes down to it. She's tired because of all the hooking up she's doing, and I'm tired from all of the walking up and down the stairs. I'm definitely getting the raw end of the deal here. So, hopefully, when it comes down to it, I'll act my age, and stop trying to grow up too fast, because now feeling too damn old doesn't seem to be working for me, and well let's just throw responsibility out the window, because there's no way I'm letting these years pass me by.

22

2004-09-11T01:30:00.000-07:00

Since Jin Hee became a little offended when I said that no one ever majors in being 22. I've decided to write a little something about what happens after you're 21.

As I've previously stated, once you turn 21. It's pretty much all downhill from there. You've turned 21. You've partied at all the bars and all the clubs. You tell anyone who will listen to your drunken banter that you've just 21 and you'll drink anything they want to buy you. You go out to bars and clubs for one reason. To get fucked up. After the newness of 21 wears away what are you left with? Fifteen extra pounds of Coors Light, and a newfound affection for the toliet, which you've been hugging for a month and a half straight.

Once 22 comes into the picture, you readily decide that drinking yourself silly is NOT the answer. You may ask how I've become such an authority on 22, well my best friend is 22. You're not looking to go to bars to find your soulmate in the bottom of a pint glass, you're trying to find it in the guy who's sitting across the room from you. You walk over, which gives you the advantage to the girls who just turned 21 because they are wearing their best club outfit to an Irish pub where the dress code doesn't mind flip flops. Once you get over there you fake a conversation about the game that's on, you even offer to buy a round of shots if (insert team name here) wins. Or depending on what he's wearing you might even talk about the stock market or some current political events. When you're 21, the conversation goes mostly like, "So, I hear you like to fuck." Then they're leaving with the best looking or just the drunkest guys they can find.

The bar is one of the only "traditional" places to meet someone. Especially if you're still in school. Because when you're walking through campus, you look around and realize that most of the guys that you think are semi-attractive have the capacity to be at the most 4 years younger than you. Which means when you were going to your senior prom, they were thinking that girls were icky and talking about video games in the corner of their 8th grade dinner dance.

Nothing fun happens when you turn 22. You've been going to the bar so often since you've turned 21 that you have a usual, and the bartender knows your name and has your change waiting for you because they know that you're going to pull out that 10 dollar bill to pay for your pitcher of beer. You have specific nights to go to specific bars, and if you're not there by 10pm a group of people will start to call you and think that something is wrong because you're at that bar like clockwork by 9:37pm every Thursday. One of those people might even be the bartender because he's been holding your 4 dollars in change for the past half hour, and he's letting you know your pitcher is getting warm.

Being 22 is fun though, because when someone at the bar you frequent turns 21, you can always tell. They are putting back their 4 dollar pints faster than you can find out their name and buy them a shot. Once they've been there for an hour they've dropped close to $50 on top shelf mixed drinks, when you've drank the same amount of them and spend at least half as much as they did because you know it's $2 well drink night, or even more because you've been drinking dollar drafts.

With 22 comes knowledge. You know where to go for a good crowd, and you never have to worry about getting in. Your ID is worn and torn enough that the bartender knows it's real, and you get a good laugh out of those who swear up and down that they majored in being 21 make that face when they take a shot of Soco and lime. You laugh at the younger girls who are wearing the 4 inch spiked heels, with an outfit that they bought specifically for that night at the bar. While you're comfortably sitting in the bar stool that you got to the bar early for, because you knew once 10pm rolled around it was a standing room only event.

22 isn't the most fun. I'm sorry Jin Hee, but there are pros to being 22. You're not a "newbie" to the bar scene anymore, and you know alot more about life, because you've either experienced new things, or you witnessed them happening to your friends. So when it comes down to it, although no one really majors in 22, when you're 21, by the end of that year you're more than ready to handle 22.

The Art of Being 21

2004-09-10T01:22:00.000-07:00

Okay, some of you may or may not know that in the beginning of August I turned 21. This wasn't simply an act of being born in 1983. Oh no no no, it is a fine art. One that should be offered in major universities, such as Yale or Harvard. Because if you didn't know, up until this point in my life. I majored in being 21.

Majoring in being 21 isn't that hard. But for about a three years, that's what I did. I'd go to bars where I "knew someone" when I was in college in Philly. And Philly's a big city there's alot of people to know. Then when I moved back home, it was onto fun things like house parties, and drinking wine with Janine when we'd go to Dave Matthews Band concerts. Then something magical happened, I had a friend, of a friend, of a friend, make me a fake ID that said I was the oldest of all my friends. Isn't that hilarious. Me at 19 the oldest out of a group that ranged from 19-23. Then I was getting into clubs that were 21+. That was a great time in my major. You might even call that sophomore field experience.

Then something tragic happened. No, I wasn't put onto academic probation or anything horrible like that. I was an ACE at my major, but I lost my fake ID. One night, at a gay club in Philly. (Don't ask, it was part of my diversity requirement), my cherished fake ID went missing. And I haven't seen it since. I had to do alot of make up work for this major slip-up. So since I was home indefinitely, I started to "know people" in and around the central Jersey club scene, aka my lab partner, Lauren. We started to go to all the clubs, Abyss, Joey's, and finally, Sleep. We "knew" alot of people there, and believe me did that help to enhance our experiments in chemistry class. You add two 20 year old girls with a 21+ club, and it would equal trouble. So things go down, I get kicked out of class. It stinks, but hey you gotta beg and plead with the Dean to get back in.

Finally, the realization is that you can't really major in being 21 without getting into a little bit of trouble, whether it's the throwing up at 2 o'clock in the morning, or the bad bad bad decisions you make once you're 6 sheets to the wind.

Now, I have graduated. I AM 21. No more sneaking into the bathroom to get a sip of my friend's drink. I slam my hand down on the bar and order a round of shots for myself, the bartender, and whoever is in the 5 foot vicinity of me. I can make an ass out of myself in public, while looking really cool. I can buy liquor for all my underage friends and then reminisce about the times when I had my older friends do it. I can tip too much and then remember why it is I set a limit on the amount of money I spend at the bar. I can insist to myself and others that at 5:15am after I passed out on the bathroom floor that I am in fact okay, and that I will be going to work in the morning. I'll go to a bar to watch a football game and I don't even like football. I specialize in shots, and when it comes down to it. When I'm 22, I'm going to miss being 21. Because no one EVER majors in being 22.

Pretty much it's all downhill from here.

Office Supplies

2004-09-01T10:04:00.000-07:00

Okay, I've decided that I know the reason why prescription medicine is so expensive. I work for a pharmaceutical company, just so you know. But this is the reason. On my desk, I have to have at least 25 pens with the name of our flagship drug on it. And add to that the 4 cases of pads with the drug's name on it. I'm sure everyone else has the same amount that I do as well. Is all of this really neccessary? If you didn't spend so much money MAKING pens, and saved it, then maybe the drug wouldn't be so darn expensive.

There are also other things that drive me crazy. Every desk has a post-it dispenser with the name of the company on it. I wear an ID badge around my neck. I know the name of the company. My post-it dispenser doesn't need to tell me. Plus, is that adhesive really all that daunting that you need a dispenser? You can't just pull it away from the others? Something really just don't make sense to me.

On a personal note, my face is falling off. I went to the beach on Saturday and baked in the sun for 4 hours. No spf or anything. Just me and Mr. Sun. Now, my face is falling off, layer by layer. I look like a leper a little. Not to mention that I'm a receptionist so I'm the first person anyone sees when they walk in. So it's like all these vendors look at me and must be thinking, "Wow, maybe this PHARMACEUTICAL COMPANY should make something that will cure leporsy.(sp?)"

I've been here for almost two weeks, so I still don't know alot of people. But I don't know if I want to know them. Cause everyone just walks passed me. I really think that they must be thinking, "Oh it must be a community outreach program where they have college students come in and learn how to use the copy machine. I always thought that we should do more in the community." I think that it's either really funny or really rude, I can't decide just yet though.

My favorite thing about my job is that there are alot of british people who work here. Okay, just two in my office, but we have a branch in Leeds, England, and people from there call here all the time. I like make them stay on the phone with me. I've never met these people, but I love how they talk. I'd spend hours on the phone with them if I could. I just want to marry a nice Irish guy right off the boat. It might not be for love, it might just so that way he can stay here in the country, but I don't care. We'll have little Irish kids and they'll have funny names and people will say, "how could you do that to your child?" But I won't care. I'll just be living it up with my Irish husband and our kids with the weird names. In all of this, however, I will still be polish. I lose.