Floridians

As a last hoorah before school begins at the end of August, my siblings and I decided to take a sibling vacation. Where you ask? The southern haven for snow birds, long borders, beautifully sculpted men and women (as well as their unfortunate, blobby counterparts), and all other manner of cold-loathing, sunshine-seeking specimens of the human species. So, Florida.

Venturing this deep into the South means that paying a visit to my Great Aunt and Uncle is inevitable. My Great Aunt is a square angel. No, really, she is the shape of a square. We call her Spongebob. 

The Uncle, though... a true boob of a man. Unknowingly insulting, lazy, stupid. So. Stupid.

That potato is a glorified version of my Uncle. Whenever we see him he says, "You'll have to come up and visit us sometime!" Like I live in Cuba or something. I'm from upstate New York. His name. Ready? His name is Great Uncle Dick. Never has a human being been more appropriately named.

An example of Dick's stupidity: Upon arriving at my Aunt's house, which is bright pink, a black lab greets us at the door. I notice her milky eyes and ask about them.

"Oh, that's Alice. She has diabetes and poor thing is blind from her cataracts," my Aunt explains.

"Yeah, that's Alice. She is a great watchdog, aren't ya Alice?" Dick says.

I'm like....

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Pretty sure that dog is blind, Dick.

Next, we meet Ranger.

Ranger is obese, arthritic from his obesity, and often will simply look at you from the floor and whine. It's sad, really.

"Oh, yes, we are trying to get Ranger to lose some weight so his arthritis doesn't hurt him so much," Spongebob declares.

"Yep, big guy gotta lose some weight! Ranger, come here. Come. Come. Ranger, come. Come.... He's not one much for walking," Dick cackles. Eventually, Ranger comes.

"Don't you dare, Dick," Aunt Spongebob spits, her eyes boring into his soul.

"He's hungry, sweetie," Dick muses as he gives Ranger the rest of his plate of bacon, eggs and sausage.

"Your'e gonna kill that dog." Spongebob is terse.

"Honey, I--"

"Shut up, Dick."

I'm like...

He really just doesn't get it. And that's basically how I was the rest of the visit with my Aunt and potato.

Anybody else have ridiculous family members that just drive you to be like...

Hitting Low Points

It's that time in the semester when things start to get annoying and life starts to get messy. In this time, my body and my mind are subject to primal instincts and cravings, regardless of what is socially acceptable.

I have a ridiculous class from 6:45 p.m. -10:00 p.m. on Mondays. Well, it's not that ridiculous because it's an acting class and we literally start each day with group stretching, breathing, and cooperation exercises. Pretty relaxed, so we can all say:

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 The point is, when this class rolls around, I have been in class since 12:45 p.m. During my rushed one hour break, I run back to my apartment (12 minutes) eat and run to class, which is in the depths of this wretched city (20 minutes).

My limited amount of time to eat leaves me largely unsatisfied and I crave something more... but what? With one foot out the door already, it clicks and I run back into the apartment in a beeline to the automatic m&m dispenser (wave your hand underneath, handful of m&ms). I wave my hand three times.. and put all the m&ms in my coat pocket... and eat them like popcorn as I walk.

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8:30 p.m. rolls around and we are granted a brief ten minute respite. I reach into my coat pocket when I assume no one is looking and feel what's left of my desperate snack. What comes out of my pocket is a color-stained couple of fingers and a dirty-ish clump of what was once m&ms. DAMN IT, I curse to myself.. it had been 'freezing rain' while I was walking and some must have found its way into my addict-snack-pocket. The worst is yet to come.

A guy just a couple of chairs down from me asks me a question as I raise the stale, chocolaty mass to my mouth. I also notice a hair stuck to the clammy shell of one of the m&ms and eat them all anyway. Imagine a cute, dry golden retriever. Now, make that golden retriever wet, muddy, and smelly. He's still cute, so you want to pet him but when you do, you regret it because it's awful. That's essentially the sly trick these chocolate morsels played on me.. I felt sick the rest of the class.

New Year's Resolutions

Hello, friends. Since it is now February, I thought it might be a good time to check in with everyone and see how those resolutions are going. We have had over a solid month to get going and settle into a new routine to better our 2013. I'll share my progress: absolutely god damn nothing. While I have made almost zero attempt to fulfill my resolutions, I will share them with you anyway.

1. Read for at least an hour a day

This I have been able to accomplish. But does it count if I'm reading stuffy textbooks that talk about market demographics and how you should change the way you speak to get a fucking job? No. No it does not count. That's why I purposely cut into textbook time by enjoying Compendium One of The Walking Dead or a little Lord of the Rings. Ooh boy, when I get to read The Walking Dead:

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2. Write for at least an hour a day

This I sadly have not done. I'm simply a failure in this category. When I write, it's in confused 15-20 minute bursts. Then, I get distracted by Facebook or a hangnail or have to pee as soon as I have a good idea. God hates me.


3. Get a job

I was all pumped this semester because I am rather proficient in French and just finished my minor in it. So, I thought a good way to keep my language up and to make a little money would be to tutor those degenerates who just couldn't grasp a foreign language. All proud, I sent a polite email to the tutoring center explaining how I had spent my last semester abroad and had completed my minor and far exceeded the qualifications listed on the tutoring website. Turns out they have no need for any French tutors; "check back at the end of the summer." Mother fuck. I will obviously never be her:

Image Source How could I resist this?? Look at that neck!!

I dig what's in her hands, but, sweet beaver, look at her neck.


4. Exercise at lest three times a week.

Just no. In lieu of going to the gym, I have taken up chewing my food much more vigorously to burn calories.


5. Paint at least one thing a month

Well, January is over... but I did paint one thing in December and that was before the New Year started, meaning that I took initiative... so I am going to just carry that over for my January painting.



I am just so bad at resolutions. I hope you have all done a better job than I have.

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Winter Specimens

If you're a dumb ass like me, you chose to live somewhere unnaturally cold, gray, dry and blustery for, what seems like, year-round. Every day is like walking into a lung-incapacitating vortex that threatens to cripple you where you stand.

Now that the scene is set, let's explore the type of people who inhabit this deathly wasteland.

1. Unidentifiables

I like to pride myself with belonging to this group. We are the select class of winter-goers who hate life and show it by the way we dress. GIANT parkas, hoods that triple the size of our heads, boots that could walk through the River Styx and not be affected, mittens that hideously deform our hands into penguin flippers, and scarves that leave only our squinting eyes left visible. Trust me, we wish we could wear eye-muffs if such a thing existed. The best part is, no one knows who the fuck you are and thanks to the parka, you can walk and fart to keep warm. Basically, by the time you get to where you're headed, you're sweating and you're fucking proud of it.

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2. Sexual Illusions of Warmth

These are the people who wear sexy, wool coats that hug their lovely shoulders and slender arms and hang to the mid-thigh. Son of a bitch, these motherfuckers are classy. They may casually toss a knock-off Burberry print scarf over their shoulder and haphazardly loop it around their neck. They often beg the question, what's a hat? because their hair is so ungodly beautiful as it somehow resists the whipping winds of icy hate. Instead of looking like they have rosacea, their cheeks only adopt a lovely pink warmth and their lips retain all their color and plumpness instead of shriveling up into what appears to be an old woman's chapped vagina. Such horrid beasts they are.. they wear fitted leather gloves that allow them to have all of their fingers instead of some sad imitation of a flightless bird's wing plus a stocky thumb... I like to think that they are beautiful, yet hating themselves every second for how cold they are. Quite frankly, they are a majestic, snowy animal:

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and I am..

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..fat.. and confused.

3. IDGAF - I Don't Give A Fucks

Then there are those who just... don't get it.

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