Thursday, April 25, 2013

A Winking Eye Suggestion

I feel pretty confident that you've heard too much from me recently...but appropriate responses to social cues be damned!  I will continue to talk (type?) at you as if you actually cared about what I have to say.

Because there are certain things for which attention should be paid...

Like the use of passive voice.

And this:

I was just one of the many dummies in the vast sea of cluelessness who did not watch this show while it aired on Fox.  It wasn't until shortly after it had been canceled that I was herded into the cult following by much cooler and shrewder buckaroos.  Just one of the many regrets that I will shout out upon my death bed (along with not using the word buckaroos enough.)

I know I've already spoken ad infinitum about my fears of over-reliance on the old televisión but I have to admit that for someone who could easily be characterized as Professor Cold Heart (Care Bears anyone?  I bet my sister got it...), the amount of excitement that I am feeling in anticipation of the return of Arrested Development is...troublesome.  In part because I think I should feel this sort of zeal for real life things and in part because someone, I won't say who, turns into a bit of demon hell spawn whenever certain unreasonably high expectations are not met.  (I'll give you a hint, that someone lives in my apartment and is not Moses...)

In other words, don't be surprised if you come to my blog in May to find the written equivalent of a trashed hotel room, with me vowing that I will never love again.

But then you remember that commitment I made to being more positive?  Me neither but the backlog of all but one post ago seems to suggest that I did.  With any luck that rosier outlook comes equipped with a set of shiny new coping mechanisms, so if god forbid this reboot is a disaster you will be spared my Mel Gibson sized tantrum circa 2006 (I'm sorry, is it too soon?).

Just in case, I think for now I will do my best to dial down my enthusiasm meter to cautiously optimist from G&H$%FFD$%GHF@!!!

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Bee Positive?

Is it terrible that I am secretly really happy that Reese Witherspoon got arrested for drunken disorderly conduct on that same night that I unintentionally decided I didn't act enough like Ernest Hemingway in the drink yourself to death department?

Is it bad that that sentence contained one too many words and not nearly enough punctuation?

If you answered yes to both of those questions, get out.  As for the rest of you, welcome.  Thank you for validating me.

As we all know, I tend to err on the negative nancy side of obnoxious girl paradigms so beginning yesterday, while I was lying on my couch reevaluating my life choices, I vowed that I would make a concerted effort to be more of an Elmo and less of an Oscar the Grouch.  I also vowed that I would work on coming up with non-Sesame Street related analogies but one step at a time.

So here goes nothing.

Things to feel good about (alternative list title: things I don't hate):

My mom

And the rest of my family too, obvs.  But it was my mother who told me over the phone today that I should feel happy and successful because I have a job and a partner that I love.  Isn't that a wonderful sentiment!?  Too bad looking on the bright side isn't genetic and that self-criticism is still one of my favorite pastimes.

Hollie Chastain

Look at how marvelous she is. I found her via the only art blog that I frequent: The Jealous Curator.  I like to borrow other people's good taste, cultivating my own takes far too much effort.

Harry Potter

This is one of a few issues that Moses and I differ strongly on.  He thinks it's reductive fantasy fiction and I could really care less.  To me, it is a comforting and enjoyable read and I will continue to reread it repeatedly during this awkward transitional stage of my life. I don't care if her prose is lacking, I don't care if it's substantive literature, I like Harry, I like Dumbledore, I just want to see them succeed against evil.  So stop judging me.  No.  Positive.  Must stay positive.


Like most shows I now worship (30 Rock, Community, Parks and Recreations, Arrested Development), I was resistant at first, but the kooky sketches won me over.  However, as a result of the following skit, I can no longer take anything with a bird on it seriously.  Not even my prized bird plates.

This email

I know it's old news at this point but I love a good story of comeuppance, especially when it involves student delinquency:

This man

And this man


Pinning DIY projects to Pinterest that I will never ever do

Like this...

(Spray painted folding chairs with vintage wallpapered seats)

or this...

(Former shutter transformed into magazine holder)

Never going to happen.  But that's okay.  Pinning these projects makes me feel productive.

Military green utility jackets

and clothing in general.

Jurassic Park (in 3-D)

I will love and religiously quote this movie until the day I die.

Okay, that's enough for today.  Have a good rest of your Monday.  (See, wasn't that a nice sign off.)

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Goodbye Freshman English Program and Goodbye Dignity

Breaking news:  Wendy Kozak has just died of embarrassment after consuming Orson Welles amounts of red wine at the LMU Freshman English Program Farewell party.

In an unrelated story, I am never drinking again.

For all those in attendance, please refer to the follow image drawn by my talented co-worker Michelle Andrade:

Hope you're having a lovely shame-free Sunday!

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Hipster nonesense

Much like I had predicted, I joined pinterest and now spend approximately twelve hours too many on it everyday.  What can I say?  I am aesthetically inclined in the worst way.  Some might even call it...superficial?

But pinterest is making me confront something that I have been avoiding for a while: that I might be a hipster or, at the very least, a hipster sympathizer.

I read an article recently that claimed "hipster" has become meaningless term--that it has become the default insult that we as a culture use to characterize anyone that we don't like.  I suppose I agree to some extent; I did call our broken shower a hipster the other day and our resident manager for not giving us a new clicker to our garage door until t-minus two weeks after the garage door system was replaced.  But I prefer the good old Potter Stewart definition: I know a hipster when I see one.


This is a hipster.  Note the loud vintagey looking glasses with accompanying (and ironic?) eyeglass croakies, the beat-up t-shirt for a punk band that no one has ever heard of and that I, consequently, had to research to determine actually was a band (and that this shirt wasn't just some homage to the swan animal), also note the lime green suspenders, the Charles Manson beard and matching greasy hairdo (is this just a picture of a young Charles Manson?  Who can tell), the layered jewelry, and the air of je ne sais quoi.  Except that I do know what it is: it's a mix of apathy and douchiness.  (No offense random stranger whose picture I found by googling "hipster.")

So why do I secretly worry that I am a hipster?  Well.  Let's examine the facts, shall we?:

-A liking of vintage clothing and vintage inspired clothing: check
-Big tortoiseshell glasses frames: check

-But no lenses required in said frames: minus--I'm blind

-A penchant for mixing prints, wearing moccasins, knee socks, and bold lipstick shades: check, check, check, and, unfortunately for people who have to look at me, check

-Occasionally does things ironically: check. Guilty.  I once carried around a Hello Kitty Bank
of America debit card in jest.  No one got it of course.  I mostly just got complemented on it by trendy looking Starbucks employees with asymmetrical hair cuts and blonde Forever 21 cashiers.

-Socialist yet consumer whore: well, we all know the answer to this one...

-Politically active yet generally ignorant about most things: what is fracking again?

-Claims to read the paper but never actually does: ...

-Enjoys things more--authors, musicians, restaurants--when they are lesser known: okay, check but in my defense, other people ruin liking things for me. Nothing's worse than co-existing in the world of fandom and sharing your adoration with someone who speaks jag fluently.

-General air of apathy: oh my, yes.

But, and I think this is the important distinction: that's just me.  Sure hipsters may do and wear some of the same things as me, but I'm not doing or saying those things to impress anyone or to be part of anything.  I subscribe to the Groucho Marx philosophy about groups: I would never want to be part of any club that would want me as a member.  I'm also not nearly cool enough to be a hipster; I'm pretty candid about my neuroses, insecurities, and general flawedness.  I doubt that hipsters run around worrying about whether or not they are good people, or if their quiet and unintentionally curt demeanor has sent other people running for the hills.  (Do you like my slightly incorrect use of outdated idioms?  I thought so.)  I am pretty earnest about who I am and what I like and though I apologize constantly, it's never for that.

So hipster overlap, yes but actual hipster tendencies, don't think so.  Glad we cleared that up, conscience.  Now we can rest easy.

And just in case you had any lingering questions about what a hipster is and whether or not I or someone else you know qualify, I find this video quite helpful.

And hilarious.  Happy hump day everyone!  No, wait.  It's Thursday.  Never mind.

Monday, April 8, 2013

A Monday Rant

Sometimes on the weekends, when I am not busy pinning outfits to pinterest or half-heartedly listening to the cackling and squawking of protagonists on second string Bravo reality t.v. shows (like the Millionaire Matchmaker. Oh, you hate me now?  I can live with that), I will wander over to yelp and peruse the reviews of nearby businesses.  I don’t know why.  I’d like to think that it’s idle curiosity but I’m starting to suspect that it’s more because I like being outraged since that’s, more often than not, the sentiment I’m left with. 

Yelp is not all bad; it certainly has its uses.  If EVERYONE has walked away from the same crepes place with a hefty dose of salmonella poisoning that’s good, useful information to have.  Or if a place only takes cash or doesn’t deliver after 8PM, again, important to know if after the fifteenth glass of wine I’m trying to order a late night snack with a credit card.   But that useful, good information comprises approximately 15% of yelp.  The other 85% is an intricately woven tapestry of pure unadulterated crazypants mcgeeness.

The issue is that any dummy with an email address or Facebook account can log on to yelp, create a user profile, and suddenly have a platform for their daddy issues, all-purpose idiocy, or life failures—and all under the guise of objective criticism.    And any poor dope with internet access can get online, read, and possibly be influenced by this tripe.  But I suppose that pretty much sums up the web.  Does anyone still call it that or did 1990 call and want its lingo back?  Who cares.

The point of yelp, in my estimation, is NOT to use it as an outlet to grumble about what a miserable sad bastard you are and how a particular business (or church or police station or public school, as the case maybe) didn’t meet your unreasonable expectations.  Sure I wish that my neighborhood post office had a zero minute wait or that the local coffee shop would give me a pony and my own private jet but the fact that they don’t doesn’t quite warrant a scathing review in my opinion.  But  maybe I'm just being too kind. 

It’s just that (Irony alert!) some people don’t deserve to have a public opinion. (Fascist much?  First of all, no and second of all, get out.)  I don’t care how thoroughly detailed your review is nor how many fervid adjectives pepper your paragraphs nor how artsy your instagrammed photos of the food or décor are; if you are one of those high maintenance people who begins every complaint with “I never complain but…,” if you are are less than satisfied 70% of the time with your experiences and can’t understand why the world hates you so much, well, guess what?  It’s not the world.  It. is. you. So go get a blog like the rest of us.

But am I any better griping about these people who gripe on yelp?  I’ll see your self-awareness and raise you a how dare you.   Yes, yes, I shouldn’t let these reviews on yelp incite my inner (and long suffering) customer service victim and I don’t doubt that some places really do deserve the yelped censure that they receive.  But in those cases, the criticism is almost always  ubiquitous and uniform.

And I realize that this post might contain a little hyperbole.  And that the tried and true saying still goes that you can’t please everyone (as evidenced by anyone who has received any type of group based evaluation ever).  And that most reasonable people who use yelp ignore the dumb dumbs who cry bad-service-wolf while the majority of reviewers appear to rule more favorably.


It's the principle of the matter.  We don’t allow convicts to vote because they broke the law, they no longer get the privilege to have a say in what happens in this country.  I think that the same should go  for yelp trolls, who keep whining incessantly about all the clip clopping over their bridge.  And how long they had to wait for the goats.
So, moral of the story is...limit free speech?  Wait, no.  That can't be right.  Well you read the post, so you get the idea.

Rant thus endeth.

Good day.