Saturday, December 31, 2011

2 years!

What a sweet thought that 2 years ago today, fat little me was sitting at home, by myself on New Year's Eve, starting bloggy while the rest of my peers were getting drunk and getting lucky in their slutty sequined dresses.

Alas, I am not bitter, as a pathetic start is a sign of good fortune to come! And I am so incredibly fortunate to get continued traffic from friends, family, friends of family and the crazy fucks who search google and somehow manage to get here. . .as proof:


Thanks to those who continue to read my thought diarrhea (vulgar metaphor)! It's been a great two years for me, filled with fantastic change and incredible growth (I'm a lady now, y'all!) and I can only hope that this next year is as bright and as constantly evolving as the last two have been, and. . .
May you all have a wonderful year filled to the brim with laughter, innovation, ambition & besos
--even you crazy fucks, because I would be nowhere without you! And don't forget to take carpe diem seriously this year, because the apocalypse is coming. . .

Thursday, December 29, 2011

eyeliner princess

"One time, I punched her in the eye, but then her eyeliner gave my fist a black eye." 
--imagined statement by someone who punched taylor momsen in the eye

Saturday, December 24, 2011

subcategory of American: (ohio river) valley girl

The following conversations are based on real events. Therefore, all characters appearing in this work are only semi-fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is only semi-coincidental. However if you are offended and intend to sue me. . .ALL resemblances are purely coincidental, I swear!  

Convo A.
1: Say the word "that" for me.
2: No, I don't want to.
1: Come on, just do it.
2: That.
1, literally doubled over in laughter (let's just clarify that 1 is not laughing with 2, 1 is laughing at 2): How did you just say "that" with three syllables? Say it again.
2: I am not your trick pony! 

Convo B.
3 (who is now at MIT, meaning 3 has a lot of gravitas when it comes to math): 2, if you would decrease the number of times that you use the word 'like' in your speech by 20% you would sound approximately 70% more intelligent.

Convo C.
4 (who just met 2 for the first time): Where are you from?
2: Ohio! Midwest coast is the best coast!
4: No.
2: Excuse me?
4: What? You're really from Ohio? Oh wow you talk like a California Asian.

Convo D.
2, genuinely concerned and looking for consolation: Sometimes I'm afraid people think I'm not intelligent because I sound stupid when I speak!
5 (who is 2's best friend) pauses, thinks, and then slowly nods in agreement: Yeah, you do sound really dumb when you talk.
2: You betch. 




Okay, I hafta reveal something: 2 is me!!!! Ahh! I know! It's bananas! I'm sure I just blew your mind--but regardless, piece it back together quick because you're gonna need it to soak in the brilliance of my newly minted taxonomic group of homo sapien americanus called. . .

the (ohio river) valley girl (n.): 
A girl from the Ohio River Valley (geographical image below) who spent much of her developmental teen years under the powerful influence of the speech patterns of the stars of Laguna Beach and The Hills (we're pointing our perfectly manicured finger at you, Lauren Conrad) and other rich, sun-kissed blondes from southern California. Such (ohio river) valley girls tend to speak with excessive use of the word "like" and with unnecessarily dramatic inflections, and have a tendency to end every sentence like a question, regardless of whether or not it is a question. (Ohio river) valley girls are oftentimes called "valley girls," but seeing as how they are not from the San Fernando valley, this classification would be "false as hell" (to borrow from my man, Othello) and therefore, they are (ohio river) valley girls. They are still from the valley, just a different valley than anyone ever expected. 
















(Ohio river) valley girl, it's a hard taxonomic group to break, and even if you do manage to stop sounding stupid, its onset is triggered each time "Unwritten" by Natasha Bedingfield or "Come Clean" by Hilary Duff comes on. This is the stone to my Sisyphus. The vodka tonic to my Lindsay Lohan :'( Like, totally sad right now?

Thursday, December 22, 2011

take 2: me n dad (roughly translated)

Dad: My boss sent me a poem in our Christmas card, I didn't know what it was, so I asked him and he said it was famous and I should know it.
Me: Oh yeah, what was it?
Dad: It is the T. Was Christmas poem.
Me: I don't know what that is.
Dad: The T. Was Christmas poem.
Me: I've never heard of it?
Dad: T. Was.
Me: Dad. I don't know it.
Mom: Just show her the poem!
(Dad goes and retrieves poem, I read.)
Me: Twas the night before Christmas. Oh. . .yeah Dad, this is pretty famous.
Dad: T. Was the night before Christmas.
Me: Twas.
Dad: T. Was.
Me: Twas, like 'it was.'
Dad: This language is trash: what the fuck is twas!