WHY?

I just. I can't deal.

Here are the list of things that had me screaming "WHY?!" silently at my desk this morning.

1. The government shutdown. They are voting to procrastinate on voting. WHY?

2. This video of a woman trying to use a wheelchair on an escalator. Watch the beginning and then skip to the end. Then chant along with me, "WHY?"

3. Anthropologie is selling an over sized safety pin for $12. WHY?

 

 4. My OkCupid account. I received this in a message:

I also wish to learn chinese from you before I go bac to Africa 

I am ready for the party.

WHY?

So in conclusion, 

WHY?

GOOD THINGS ARE HAPPENING!!!

Egyptians are revolting, planes are crashing, wildfires are happening and that's super unfortunate but good things are happening to me and my friends!!!

Let's start with me because obvi. This is my blog and as you've just read the first sentence, you can deduce that I'm a fairly self-absorbed person. 

I got a job! One that isn't retail! I actually kept the retail job because this job is paying me about the same as retail, but no matter! I started on Monday as the receptionist for a great talent agency. I'm amped about this position for a few reasons:

1. I don't have to scream "WELCOME LADIES!!!" every time someone walks in the door.  

2. The receptionist position here is equivalent to mailroom positions that old timers tell anecdotes about.       "Oh I started in the mailroom here in 1984 and worked my way up to the corner office!" 

3. It seems like people either get promoted or get other great positions within a few months of starting (*Cue "Jeffersons" theme song*). 

I'm not sure that I want to be some Ari Gold super-agent, but I know that having a reputable talent agency on your resume will open so many doors. The work itself is a little "Devil Wears Prada" in that you can't really leave the desk for any reason. Every phone call has to be answered. For that reason there are two receptionists, but they're thinking about just trying one receptionist and having interns do all the fetching. The only thing they can't fetch for me is a toilet, so I guess a chamber toilet will have to suffice. 

But enough about peeing in pots. One of my best friends in the world is getting married! She met the guy and immediately knew that he was her future husband. Feel free to squeal. They're going to have adorable children who are all fluent in the 10 languages they each know. I'm so happy for them!! 

I'm having a realization that my friends and I are transitioning into new, more adult phases of our lives. So surreal. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to my Netflix "Dawson's Creek" marathon. Aaand I'm back to my old self. 

Why Jim Halpert Has Ruined Me

My freshman English teacher was a bit of a femi-nazi determined to open our young impressionable eyes to how certain stories and movies were holding women down. For our last project, we watched Mulan (my favorite Disney movie FYI--and not just because she's Asian. Racists.) and were assigned to analyze the song lyrics and script for anti-feminists undertones and how Disney movies in general fill young girls minds with unrealistic expectations of romance and men. Maybe for some girls this is true, but even as a young child, I knew none of this was realistic. I mean, I don't think Li-Shang wore a shirt once in Mulan (not that I'm complaining).

Disney didn't ruined my expectations of romance and men for me. Jim Halpert did. 

Jim Halpert is a modern-day Disney prince. Sure there's less fighting giant octopuswomanwitch monsters, but Jim fought for Pam. I have watched Jim Halpert for nine years on The Office pine and woo and court and marry Pam Beesley. As a complete package, The Office was great for about five of the nine years, but Jim and Pam's relationship always kept me coming back (also Jim's hair--boy's got a good head of hair). In the final two episodes the writers presented so Jim/Pam "awwww" moments I could barely stand it. It was lovely. Then I immediately got that itchy jealous feeling because 1. I'm pretty sure Jim Halpert doesn't have a twin that I can date and 2. Jim Halpert does not exist in real life.

I think this pretty much sums up why Jim is so dreamy:

Their story is a classic will-they-won't-they, but for Jim it was always when-will-they. Swoon.

Gatsby

The highly-anticipated The Great Gatsby is released this weekend and with its premiere has been an onslaught of Gatsby/20s/flapper/prohibition themed everything. I mean everything. Thesaurus.com even has a slideshow about learning jazz era language. Isn't it all just scatting and calling guys "old sport"?

Admittedly, I am a Baz Luhrman hater. There are few films that I've hated more than Australia and Moulin Rouge. However, I did like Romeo+Juliet and I hope it leans in that direction rather than the three hour crap fest that is Australia. So as it stands, I am cautiously optimistic about this movie.

But I do have reservations.

It's ironic how excessive this whole promotion has been given that the main theme in the novel is how excess leads to hedonistic, immoral living. I mean the movie was shot in 3-D. Talk about excess for crying out loud. Apparently Luhrman wanted to find a way to to make the audience "feel like they were inside the room," but shouldn't the characters and the writing do that for us in a movie that is based on a beloved American classic?

The trailer makes me wonder if the entire movie will go way over the top and be a hot mess or will it toe the line and be a controlled spectacle . I don't really see a way for this movie to have any subtlety to it whatsoever (except maybe in the case of Carey Mulligan).

Oh, and Blake Lively was almost cast as Daisy Buchanan. If that's not an indication of poor judgement, I don't know what is.

That being said, I am extremely excited that Baz Luhrman decided to go back on his medication and cast Carey Mulligan as Daisy instead. I think she's one of the best working actresses and it makes me even more excited to see her because I hated Mia Farrow in the last Gatsby film adaptation in 1977. It's a great cast--even Tobey 'Vacant Eyes' Maguire looks like he will do the observant Nick Carraway justice.

Another thing that struck me when I watched the trailer first was the soundtrack. This track list is insane.

1. 100$ Bill - JAY Z
2. Back To Black - Beyoncé x André 3000
3. Bang Bang - will.i.am
4. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody (All We Got) - Fergie + Q Tip + GoonRock
5. Young And Beautiful - Lana Del Rey
6. Love Is The Drug - Bryan Ferry with The Bryan Ferry Orchestra
7. Over The Love - Florence + The Machine
8. Where The Wind Blows - Coco O. of Quadron
9. Crazy in Love - Emeli Sandé and The Bryan Ferry Orchestra
10. Together – The xx
11. Hearts A Mess - Gotye
12. Love Is Blindness – Jack White
13. Into the Past - Nero
14. Kill and Run - Sia
It's pretty much a who's who of hot artists today. And at first I thought "No Church In The Wild" was an odd choice for the trailer, but every time I watched the trailer, it got me super pumped to see the movie so, well done trailer-maker-people.

Baz may have cast the hottest actors and the hottest artists for the soundtrack but it could all be smoke and mirrors. This could still very well be a total failure. It would be very tongue in cheek if Luhrman meant for the movie to be one of the most opulent movies and then have it crumble, mirroring the themes in the novel. Nah, this is Baz Luhrman we're talking about. The man who made Australia. 

Konichu-whaaaa?

So, I'm asian. I'm not sure if I've addressed this before on my blog, but there it is. You might not be able to discern this from my Liz Lemon profile pic, but what can I say? Drunk Liz Lemon is my spirit animal. Because I have been the token Asian for the majority of my life, I have always been hyper aware of my Asian-ness. Now that I am living in New York City, that token has- poof!- disappeared.  But in the past few days, my asian persuasion has resurfaced.

I'm walking down the street, minding my own beeswax when a fellow who was-how do I put this delicately... portly? santa-esque?- walked past me, briefly stopped and muttered "Ni hao MA, girl" and kept walking. No plans to actually stop and harass me. Just a quick drive-by racist comment. What I want to know is WHY? What does this accomplish? Just to get a rise out of me? It didn't work. I stopped for a second to process what he had said because it barely registered. I got really confused/ slightly annoyed and moved on with my day. If that was his goal then mission accomplished, soldier. It couldn't have been to pursue me. He barely stopped to say that to me. Did he think I would be so impressed by that comment that I would run after him? Is it something so glaringly obvious that I've just missed? Someone give me some insight here.

In another incident, I saw this on Buzzfeed.

His business card should read: Rich B, CEO of Douchbaggery Inc. 

You Punks.

It's that time of the year again. Celebs from Hollyweird and beyond gather for the annual Met Gala to celebrate whatever Anna Wintour feels like promoting. Last year was a fitting tribute to great designers Schiaparelli and Prada and this year, just to zig when you think they'll zag, the theme was "Punk: From Chaos to Couture." Oh sure, because nothing is more punk than having celebutante millionaires overpay for some pink hair extensions and put some safety pins on their couture gowns. While high concept fashion designers like Vivienne Westwood and John Paul Gaultier have borrowed elements of punk culture in the past, the Met Gala celebrating punk is an anathema to the original movement. From my understanding of it, punk completely eschews materialism, anything too mainstream, and general anarchy-- you know, everything the Met Gala isn't. 

It was kind of fun to see celebs take a stab at punk. I don't think there's anymore black eyeliner left in the world and they wiped Hot Topic out of temporary hair dye. In terms of outfits, here is my winner and loser:

Winner:

SJP looks crazy compared to everyone else. It certainly ain't mainstream. 

Loser:

Did you forget what the theme was? You're the one parent chaperone in regular clothes while all the kids are in costumes trick-or-treating. Lame. OR, maybe it's super subversive and she's reverse psychologing everyone. Just because I say to go punk, you do it? I'm going regular party dress tonight! 

But in terms of life, Jennifer Lawrence wins. 

WELCOME LADIES!!!!

One of the many reasons why I'm sure I'm an old man trapped in a 25 year old woman's body is that when I thought about how much I really don't like my new retail job, I tried to rationalize not quitting by sternly telling myself "it builds character!"

You're probably thinking, "wow, how groundbreaking! This girl doesn't like her retail job! Does she also not like Hitler?" Admittedly, it's not a novel perspective, but whatever you're reading my blog. But here's the thing--the majority of the people with whom I work with actually enjoy the soul-sucking hell that is retail. Here are a few things that I've noticed about the people who like working retail a.k.a an O.C.D. sufferer's wet dream:

-They really take pride in spacing out the hangers 2 fingers apart.
-They won't stop steaming a garment until every minuscule wrinkle is gone.
-They don't mind yelling "WELCOME LADIES!!!" over the blaring Top 40 music, which to me is a verbal "shock and awe" military tactic.
- If they don't know where an item should go, they will spend an inordinate amount of time to find out where the item is supposed to be instead of taking an educated guess and moving on with their life.
-Like sharks, they never. stop. moving.
-And they do it in heels.
-They have perfected the judgmental-up-and-down-once-over-glance taking mental notes about how ugly your practical shoes are (that's really just my manager but he's a man so I feel like he's not allowed to say anything). See Blair Waldorf perfect the look below:

And I'm all:

Even though I do think their attention to detail is overkill, I would like to adopt that take-pride-in-your-work attitude. I know that part of my negativity is due to the fact that I've only been there for a week and I need to give it time but part of it is I just don't care. And that's the clincher--the majority of the others are studying fashion and want to do this for the rest of their lives. I, on the other hand, was walking down the street, saw they were hiring, and decided to throw my resume in the mix because I like to shop.

I incorrectly assumed that this staff would have the same attitude as I do. When I worked at the grocery store, the staff's collective weariness bonded us together. No one majored in Grocery Studies (minor in Kale Chips) in college, so most of the employees were just biding their time until something better came along. It created a camaraderie that pulled us through endless hours of scanning groceries and helped fool our clientele into thinking we enjoyed our jobs. And even though we weren't assaulting customers with kindness, I think people responded to our authenticity (anything to keep the terrible management off our backs). We entertained ourselves and if the customers wanted in on the fun, so much the better.

I think the key to pretending that I like this job is to play it out like a character. Below is a brilliant Maria Bamford bit that I feel like so perfectly captures the tone of my time working retail. The sudden shift from Real Maria to Fake Maria is basically how I greet customers. Enjoy!

Let's Talk Fashion

As I'm flipping through this month's Vogue with the gorgeous Carey Mulligan on the cover dressed to the nines in 20s couture, I stumbled upon an article on Casey Legler, an artist and ex-Olympic swimmer, who became the first woman to become a Ford Model in the men's division. If you also did a double take and had to re-read that, you're in good company. Yes, it is pretty groundbreaking that a woman could become a mens model, but in terms of being open-minded, this social statement is only open minded in a narrow definition of what is considered beautiful and fashionable. This might be a harsh comparison, but it's like they're Stockholm Syndroming us. They're giving us small emotional concessions, but but we're still locked up in the same old place. If you take away her shiny headline, she still has very classic model features--the 6'2" stature, those cheekbones, and, not to pull the race card, but she's white.

The article goes on to say that "fashion is now holding up its mirror to an obvious social reality: what you 'should' look like now means only what suits you best." Really? Not according to what you, Vogue, show your readers every month. The pages are filled with tall, thin, white women. Sprinkle in a couple of women of color here and there (wouldn't want to be too matchy-matchy) with the same rail thin figures, and you've got yourself a high-fashion magazine.

I really do think it's great that a strong, athletic, artistic woman can carve her own niche in the fashion world, but don't pat yourself on the back too much, fashion industry. There are modeling scouts in Sweden recruiting outside of anorexia clinics. One step forward, 18754435 steps back. But for now, we'll call this one a coup. Hats off, Casey Legler.

#sixseasonsandamovie

Usually by the sixth season of a TV show, the plot lines are getting tired, the character development has stagnated and critics are bemoaning "how the show used to be." Not Mad Men. The sixth season premiere is still as sharp as ever. Watching Mad Men is the television equivalent of taking English 701:Analyzing the collected works of T.S. Eliot. Just layers and layers of symbols and meaning. I've never felt very compelled to analyze my favorite shows to bits and pieces because part of me feels like it takes the fun out of it, but Mad Men deserves that kind of attention. Also, 90% of what I watch is sitcoms soooo not much room for T.S. Eliot comparisons there. Matthew Weiner, showrunner extraordinaire, clearly uses every moment of their painfully long hiatuses to map out the themes and how each character is affected.

Season six jumps in right where we left off at season five. The bulk of last season dealt with death culminating in the suicide of Lane Pryce (R.I.P.) and if the premiere is any indication, they will continue to explore those themes. Roger's mother dies, as does his shoe shiner. Don's doorman almost dies, and Betty seems like she wants to die from what seems like boredom and dissatisfaction in her cushy suburban life. Too macabre? Don't worry, there is one character who seems decently satisfied with her life. Peggy has taken on the role of Don Draper in Ted Chaough's agency where she is cracking the whip on her subordinates, using his writing techniques and just crushing it at work. No blatant infidelity to speak of or excessive drinking problem yet, but it's only the first episode. 

Special shout-out to the wardrobe department whose attention to detail is impeccable. Don, Roger, and Betty are all starting to feel their age between Megan wanting Don to smoke pot, people around Roger dropping like flies and Betty spending a day hanging out with young squatters despite them mocking her way of life. Their feet are firmly planted in the skinny tie/hair scarf and gloves side while the rest of the group seems to have moved on to the side burns and muted colors of the early 70s. 

I honestly can't say enough good things about this show and if I go on, it'll be like my Freshman English class where my feminist professor made us rip Mulan to shreds for misogynist undertones, effectively ruining one of my favorite Disney movies. 

Oh! One last shout out to Lindsey Weir who played another one of Don's conquests. It's been too long, girlfriend. Say hi to your baby bro aka Dr. Lance Sweets for me. When is Judd Apatow approaching Netflix for a revival and/or getting the Kickstarter campaign going? A girl can dream...

 

I WANT ALL THE THINGS

Browsing the New York Times recently, I ran across this optimistically titled article, "Do Millennials Stand A Chance In The Real World?" so of course, I read it because like a good little self-absorbed millennial I wanted to know more about me. Also, as someone who recently moved to one of the most expensive cities in the world with no job, it seemed particularly applicable to my situation.

WHAT. A. DOWNER. I was really hoping that the answer to the title question would be a resounding "Yes!" and like a GIF of Christian Bales from The Newsies clicking his heels, but as it turns out, us millennials are in for a rough ride. I suppose that initial reaction is just another indicator that I am living up to my trophy generation roots. Reading this article was kind of like reading your horoscope and extrapolating what you want. Like this bit on spending habits:

The millennials’ relationship with money seems quite simple. They do not have a lot of it, and what they do have, they seem reluctant to spend. Millennials are buying fewer cars and houses, and despite their immersion in consumer culture, particularly electronics, they are not really spending beyond their limited means. Their credit-card debt has declined, most likely because many millennials cannot get a credit card, and in part because they know they cannot afford to spend now and pay back later. “They have this risk aversion that we’ve seen with millennials since they were teenagers,” Howe said. “It’s declining alcohol use, declining drug use. I mean, declining sex.”

I thought, "YES! All of this yes!" I just got my first credit card and every time I use it, I get an upset stomach. Yet despite our stinginess, we are the generation that is most associated with materialism. While our baby-boomer predecessors used words like "work ethic" to describe what makes them unique, millennials responded with "clothes," which I actually LOL'ed at. So we want all the things, but aren't willing to shell out for it leaving us... perpetually frustrated?

And it gets worse. Bring your umbrellas, millennials because economists are forecasting a chance of poor for the rest of your life.

The millennials, in other polls, remain optimistic about their futures. Economists are less so. There is a persistent fear that they have entered a permanently lower earnings and savings trajectory. Even if the generation recovers, even if it ends up wealthier than the one before it, the scars will be deep and long-lasting. Kahn has started comparing recent graduates during the recent recession with recent graduates in the 1981-82 recession. She said the initial wage losses were comparable, and the trend looks set to repeat. “My inclination is pessimism,” Kahn said. “If anything, these guys might experience something worse.” 

I wonder though if being optimistic in the face of our bleak future isn't a characteristic of millennials but a characteristic of just being young. I say this as a self-proclaimed pessimist who is optimistic about my future. Isn't every generation of young people optimistic because of the sheer amount of time we have to worry about things that economists worry about? Leave being jaded, inflexible and senile for the old folks. Maybe that's a very simplistic way of looking at it but hey, my teachers always told me that I could say whatever I want to say so STEP OFF.

Even though I am worried about a shocking number of things on a day to day basis, I have a suspicion that things will be just fine for us millennials. We're the best-educated generation even though it may not seem like that sometimes when our youths are doing this. With our fancy pants college degrees and internet learnings maybe we can forge our own paths, different from the Norman Rockwell paintings of yore, though Neil Howe, author of Generations, contends that "millennials have a very conventional notion of the American dream — a spouse, a house, a kid — but it is not going to be easy for them to get those things.” So maybe we don't get all the things. Maybe we adapt or-and don't get upset by this word- settle for most of the things. But don't worry, moms of the world. We'll pay for the clothes ourselves. You know, the really important stuff. On a completely unrelated note, can we crash on the couch for like ever?

Giggity!

Guess where I am right now! Guantanamo Bay doesn't have wifi, dummy. And not an S&M sex dungeon either, you pervs. Since your mind is clearly going towards the dark and perverse, I'll just tell you. I'm at my first New York City job! Ok, job is a bit generous. It's my first temp gig. Gig! I have a gig. I finally have something other than sitting at home waiting for a phone call from prospective employers!

The temp agency called me this morning at 8:30 to ask if I wanted one day of work at a media firm, to which I responded with "mmmhfdlksjklfh ok." If anyone speaks to me before 10 these days, you're gonna get a whole lotta nonsense before you get actual English words. He let me know it was at CBS interactive, which is the exactly the type of place that I would want to get hired at, even as a receptionist. This is seriously the cushiest job I've ever had. The guy who showed me around told me that I could play music quietly at my desk if I wanted to, there were giant TVs on either side of me, a stack of different Keurig pods the size of the leaning tower of Pisa, 25 cent cans of soda, and a bean bag corner. If your office doesn't have a corner designated for bean bags, you should probably quit.

The day went as follows:

10:00-Arrive at office ready to be trained by Kenneth. If you also thought "KENNETH, THE PAGE?" you are not alone. The similarities between Kenneth, the page and Kenneth, CBS office administrator stop at having family from the South.

10:05-Done with training. Phone rings, answer it. Packages arrive, sign for them. Call me if you need anything.

10:37-First phone call of the day. Very disappointed to hear the security guard's voice at the other end and not David Letterman or someone from CSI:MiamiNewYorkChicagoLA asking for my help to solve sexy crimes.

1:00-Lunch! I go to the corner deli, grab a sandwich and come back to read my book, drink my 25 cent diet coke (I'm seriously in awe of this. If I ever go back, I might just stock up) and eat in peace in the lounge. There's only one other guy in the lounge watching "Swamp People." We eat in silence.

1:40-swarms of people come in to eat their lunch together. Suddenly I feel like Rory Gilmore with my sandwich and book at the end of the lunch table. Except I'm temping and this would probably happen to her on her first day at The New Yorker. I think about jumping into the convo but I thought ugh, jumping takes sooo much effort. A girl mentions that she would have her entire wardrobe come from Madewell, I confirm that I too would love that and that was it. No lifelong friends made today.

3:50-Internet goes out. Panic ensues. I want to unplug and plug wires back in like I would at home, but there was this whole mess of wires under my desk that I just did not want to fuck up. Oh, you broke the internet? WAY TO GO, TEMP. Also, I have an irrational childhood fear of that one episode of Are You Afraid of The Dark where a computer virus comes to life in the form of a midget, which is part of my aversion to anything too technical.

4:03-Fixed! Kenneth did it, but whatever. I continue to meander through the Internet aimlessly.

5:05-Fill out a timesheet, and head home.

Another New York first: saw my first subway rat on the train tracks drinking stagnant subway water. Also saw my first subway rat get run over by the subway.

All in all, a productive day. I get to trail in a kitchen tomorrow for my third interview with the celeb chef. After two rounds of interview, I would have to assume there are only a couple of candidates left in the running. Hopefully I won't get cut after this round. Or go to the chopping block. Or get burned by the competition. Ok, that's enough of that. I'm going to enjoy a well deserved dinner. After all, I worked hard today. So much internet browsing.

When It Rains, It Pours

So the old adage is true. When it rains, it pours. If you get one interview, the universe sends an email out to everyone else you've applied to to let them know that you're a hot commodity. I've had two interviews this week, and two next week. And for things that I would like to do! Doing something you enjoy for a living. Imagine that...

And remember when I asked for a Groundhog Day? I'm kind of getting one. I have a follow up phone interview with the chef! My friend says it's because I'm not a "resume robot" and actually acted like a human being (but seriously, I was a total spazz. This second interview is a fucking miracle). And it's a phone interview! Phone interviews are the best! You can do them in the comfort of your own home, it would be really hard to be late for one and no dumb interview clothes to wear. I will probably not be wearing pants for mine, as it is scheduled for 10 a.m. and I normally wake up around that time. Unemployment does have it's perks...

When I moved up here I gave myself two months to find a job and that deadline is fast approaching. With this kind of momentum, hopefully I can find a place that will pay me actual money! I might be able to afford an apartment! And food! I miss eating things that aren't PB&J. I'm not sure why I'm leaving you with this video other than it always makes me giggle and I'm in a really excited giggly mood. Happy Friday!

Can I get a Groundhog Day?

Today started off with so much promise. I had an interview scheduled to work for an amazing chef to be her personal assistant. I didn't really sleep well with all the anticipation, but I left myself 15 extra minutes I took a cab and still got there 10 minutes late. Curse the New York City traffic! When I get there, the girl that I set up the interview with ushers me into the chef's office as I'm trying to catch my breath and slow my heartbeat down so it is not completely audible. A little back story: I got this interview through a friend of mine who works in the restaurant group. I had (wrongly) assumed that they would be interviewing a ton of different people and thought that I would be screened by the woman who set up the interview time with me. Nope, straight into the thick of it. And it just gets worse from there. The most painful moments from my interview keep replaying in my mind like a GIF that just won't quit. Buzzfeed could do a "10 Worst Moments" list with all the GIFs in my mind. I actually think this is the worst interview I have ever given for the best job I have ever interviewed for.

I'm sending a thank you note, but I think I'm back at square one in the job hunt. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. Say, what kind of incantation would I have to chant to get a do-over on this day? BEETLEJUICE! BEETLEJUICE! BEETLEJUICE!

Four-Letter Word For Censorship?

Anyone catch The Oscars this past Sunday? I did. All three and a half hours of it. If you were doing something real with your life, bravo. Keep doing your thang. The ceremony itself is of no consequence. The juicy stuff comes after the show in the form of dribble that every dodo feels they need to broadcast on twitter, facebook, blogs, news sites, sky writing, town crier, graffiti, what have you. This time, a writer from The Onion tweeted that most adorable child actor ever, Quvenzhané Wallis, is a cunt. I'm a big fan of The Onion, but really? This little girl is going to be the next Annie. You just called little orphan Annie a cunt. The sun will NOT come out tomorrow, unidentified Onion writer. 

Oh sure, she totally had it coming. And she'll DEFINITELY get the biting wit of that tweet. I'm sure she'll look at it and think, "what an insightful and succinct examination into the media and the Hollywood Foreign Press."NINE. SHE'S NINE. Not to mention child actors have a 50/50 shot of being fucked up. Best case scenario, the writer was poorly satirizing America's obsession with celebs. Worst case, he's just calling a talented African-American girl a word that most people consider to be the filthiest of cuss words. 

After an hour, the tweet was taken down and the next day an apology was issued. However, now former Onion staffers are fighting back crying censorship. I didn't know that this was the first retraction The Onion had ever issued but I think it was a wise decision made by the CEO, Steve Hannah. Maybe it is taking away "editorial freedom," but there's a difference between satirizing someone, like a politician, in a funny insightful way and satirizing a nine year old, who hopefully doesn't even know what the word cunt means. The Onion's usual targets are politicians, governments, celebrities and religion--people and organizations whose actions should be examined and made fun of. 

After all this cunt business, no one is even talking about what a great job Quvenzhané did in Beasts of the Southern Wild. And no one is even talking about the original issue that the tweeter was trying to get at, which only goes to prove that shock for shock's sake is not always the best plan. 

What If?

There are some days when I want to feel like I'm not letting my brain atrophy, but I don't want to crack open any textbooks. So what do I do to quench (or rather, dampen) my thirst for knowledge? I head to the Netflix documentary section. Today I saw something that piqued my interest because of its relevance in my life today. As a recently unemployed, somewhat directionless 20-something, I spend a lot of time on Craigslist. I'm not talking trade a coffee table for a blowey, just job stuff. When I saw the premise for Craigslist Joe, I thought, "really? This dude is gonna try to survive for 30 days based on nothing but Craigslist ads? Pssshyeahright." Joe Garner's central thesis poses this question: is technology hindering or enhancing our sense of community? But I think he actually boils down to the the age old question: is man good or evil? 

Joe ends up taking a lasso-shaped journey around America stopping mostly in major cities with the occasional pit stop in a small town and I think that based on his experience, we can assume that man is good. And I hate to be the one jaded jerk who shits all over the sunny happy unicorn rainbows party, but I have to wonder if the circumstances would have been any different if Joe wasn't a regular looking white dude who had a camera man following him around. I also have to wonder how much more altruistic these strangers became once they saw a camera pointed in their faces. Joe looks like a Joe. Remember in 2008 when McCain based half of his presidential campaign on wanting to help Main St. America and the regular guys? The Joe Plummers of America! McCain met Joe Garner and decided to base his campaign on him. He was well groomed, wore jeans, a plain jacket and a backpack the entire time. But would Joe have spent more than one night sleeping in a booth in a coffee shop if he looked a little more homeless and had a hidden camera? Would these strangers have been extra nice and given him food and clothes?

The other issue is safety. I don't think he ever had to worry too much about safety since he has a walking insurance policy following him in the form of Kevin the cameraman, but as a woman who has traveled in a foreign country by herself and gotten pick-pocketed, I can't help but think boy, it would have been nice to have a camera man following me to record the fucker who stole my passport and money. I know plenty of women who have traveled alone successfully, but when it actually happens to you your opinions lean the other way, like McCain and torture (gosh, lots of McCain parallels here). And I didn't even get assaulted! But even pick-pocketing left me with that nagging paranoia I can never  fully shake. That and the fact that my parents are avid local news and 20/20 watchers. Goddamn it, John Stossel. Crushing my optimism, one episode at a time. 

This is not to discredit his efforts at all. He was proactive in finding free events in which to meet people and he volunteered in the cities that he stayed in for more than a couple of days, trading labor for a free meal or a place to stay. I also think he had to be smart in what postings he responded to. 

When Joe's mother asked him to sum up his trip, he said that it was inspiring. And whether or not he meant to inspire as well as be inspired, it has made me reexamine my trust issues and I can only hope that I meet as many generous, kind-hearted strangers as Joe met so I can say "HA!" to that John Stossel voice in the back of my head. My other take-away came when the credits rolled and Zach Galifianakis was listed as the Executive Producer, which made think, "Huh. People are surprising."

Valentine's Day. A day to celebrate with your snookumshoneyboobear. Well today I celebrate with New York City! It's my two week anniversary with the city and I'm pretty content. I've had my usual Laugh/Cry moments, but hey, I moved to a new city I didn't become a new person. Here's a recap of my first two weeks in NYC:

-Bought a massive winter coat for the upcoming blizzard Nemo (why name it Nemo, meteorology dudes? Not only did we have to suffer through a blizzard, but we had to suffer through so many Finding Nemo jokes. And joke is a generous word). This is what I look like:

 I've been seriously spoiled by the mild South Carolina winters.

-Also bought an app to help me navigate the subway system. Thank god I didn't move here pre-iPhone because I would most certainly get mugged walking down the street with my head in a subway map. With my nifty app, I can discreetly pretend like I'm checking something really important. Work emails! Social engagements! Stock prices! I could be checking any one of these things! But in reality, I'm just trying to find my way to a bakery.

-Helped a couple find the F train. Practically a local, right? Then I looked down at my fancy app and realized I was on the wrong road.

-I was offered a job at a real estate leasing firm in Williamsburg run by some Hasidic Jews. A friend of a friend presented the opportunity to me and while I was grateful for the offer, real estate sales is everything I never wanted to do. But hey, I'm one for one in interviews and job offers. Send some good juju my way, internet people. Mama needs a cool new job.

-Made friends with some locals! For instance, when I went to the grocery store, I was one those obnoxious people who had bags but forgot about them until the cashier was half way done bagging. After I piped up, she muttered some expletive under her breath and I said "Thanks!" and went along my merry way. Margie and I aren't BFF yet, but slowly I melt her icy exterior. I've actually met some cool friends of friends since being here, but I definitely need to join some sort of organization and get some friends. How do you make friends? A knitting circle? Is that what the kids are doing these days? But seriously, if you're not in school, don't work with cool people, already have friends who can introduce you to other nice people, how does one meet other people?

Sooo you guys ponder that while I watch When Harry met Sally and 10 Things I Hate About You. What? I'm not allowed to be cliche on Valentine's Day? The whole damn holiday is a cliche. Just because I'm sans man this (and every) V-Day doesn't mean I can't enjoy the best parts of the holiday: chocolate and rom-coms. Love you bye!

The Ultimate Laugh/Cry

Well readers, I said Bon Voyage to Columbia, South Carolina and like the Jeffersons, I am movin' on up to New York City, (Lower) East Side. A friend of a friend needed to sublet her apartment for two months so I carped that diem and took it.

I had about three weeks to tell everyone in Columbia that I was leaving for New York and everyone had slightly varying reactions but they all had about a million questions to ask. No, I don't have a job yet. Yes, I'm nervous about that. Yes, I have friends up there that could probably help me with that particular issue. No, I still don't know what I want to do with my life. Yes, reader, I am finished playing 20 questions with myself.

It was actually really fun to be the person leaving. Dinners and parties were thrown for me. Friends from different groups came together and it wasn't a George Costanza worlds are colliding thing! It was kind of like my birthday lasted for three weeks. Wait, why didn't I get birthday cake for three weeks then? Anyhow, I was so busy that I didn't really have a chance to realize how much I would miss my friends and the comfort of my predictable life until I was packing up my car with my closest friends. I started to cry and then, the ultimate laugh/cry. I turned the ignition on and this song came on the radio:

I have never laugh/cried so hard in my life. Then as I was driving towards the highway listening to the graduation theme song of a generation, I saw in my peripheral vision a woman look at me with a look of pity and confusion as she unabashedly watched me blow my nose and continue to laugh/cry hysterically. It was the most fitting way to end my time in Columbia.

So tomorrow, I begin my life in New York City. In my wildest dreams, I find my dream job, dream man and dream apartment, but I know that I will probably just join the ranks of the "Girls" generation meaning one laugh/cry moment after another. But I am optimistic about the possibilities that NYC will bring. Why else would every romantic comedy and sitcom about attractive friends trying to have it all be based in NYC?

I have about four hours to sleep before I get up and drive with my parents to NYC, so goodnight. I guess when I get there, I'll already look like every other tired New Yorker. Already fitting in! Yes!