new roommate: nicole

new roommate.

quick introduction:


roommate nicole: it's 6:30!
me: actually it's 6:19.
roommate nicole: i was rounding.
me: who rounds up 11?

i can't really blame her.

friendemily: get to it
friendemily: thanks
whiitethrash: okay.
friendemily: LIKE YOU HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO
friendemily: oh i expected some backtalk
friendemily: so i just prepared

WFI: Homeless Pregnancy

whiitethrash:last night i stopped by the studio
to prep stuff
and it was so dark
not a single light in the art building
i was the only car
and when i came out
this drunk as shit
homeless
TWO OF THEM
guy and girl
were making out
and being super creepy
i was like
AAH.

gemath y:
ew
there's this homeless couple that hangs around work
and the guy is black
and looks like the 'blind' black guy from office space
who comes to the door to sell magazines
and the woman is this white lady
who is the poster for Don't Do Meth
with missing teeth and scraggly red hair
and her eyes bulging out
and she's pin thin
and always wears saggy dirty sweats
and they live at the arlington st church alley and statue/monument
which, btw, was where the constitution was ratified
if they could see us now!!!!!!
(jazz hands)
and she always says 'spare a little change for a homeless pregnant woman'
for 3 years or so
and she's never been pregnant.
ever.
one day I am going to snap and yell WHERE'S THE FUCKING BABY?
or USE A CONDOM!!!
like anyone believes for one second something would have sex with her
it's inconcievable
but I've seen her and the black dude cuddling
stroking each other's slouch socks and inhaling the musky scent of piss and shit from each other's bodies
I feel like that's true love though
cause you know her taco is a hairy muff
and tom, jess' boyfriend, always says
you find a man who eats hairy taco and you've found true love.
so, I guess I'll stop making fun of the homeless couple now
because maybe they're happier than I am
they, were, in fact strolling hand in hand through the copley mall
window shopping at louis vuitton and dior
dare to dream.

I have permission.

whiitethrash: i am laughing
whiitethrash: so hard
whiitethrash: i am in love with it.
whiitethrash: but don't say THE N WORD
gemath y: I can't not say it
whiitethrash: well
whiitethrash: on one hand
whiitethrash: i bet we get google hits
whiitethrash: off of
whiitethrash: "taxi cab N WORD"
whiitethrash: but
whiitethrash: on the other hand
whiitethrash: we will get google hits off of
whiitethrash: "blogs that say THE N WORD"
gemath y: sooooo
gemath y: either way we get hits?
whiitethrash: ...win win??
gemath y: yeah
gemath y: ok


edited by sasha imus to say: i really do not approve of that word. i really don't. seriously.

edit by meghan kramer to say: neither do I.

WFI: Fake cabs, real Haitians.

Sometimes when I am late for work, I hop in a cab at back bay station and take it a few blocks to my work. It's only like $4, takes 5 minutes...gets me to work on time. On Tuesday most streets were coated in 3 inches of ice and slick slush and where they weren't, there was an obstacle course of mountainous snow to get there. On a day like Tuesday the walk from Back Bay to work would have taken 12 minutes or more. So, I got in a Top Cab.

In Boston, there are several cab companies: Boston Cab, MetroCab, Independent, Town Taxi etc. As a somewhat of a cab aficionado, Top Cab is always my least favorite. But in the pecking order line up, a Top Cab was the front car, so I got in. When I told him 11 Newbury Street he scoffed, "Why don't you get out and walk?" I take enough cabs to feel comfortable saying 90% of drivers are Haitian and 90% of Haitian drivers have an awful attitude. That's racist to some I'm sure, but it's just fact to me. I realize it's only a few blocks, but who cares? What does this guy know? Maybe my knee is busted? Maybe there's a hole in my shoe? Maybe I am just lazy and feel like it? He's not allowed to refuse a ride. I know this because, one time, an undercover cop lady stopped my cab and asked if I was refused a ride from another cab in front of the one I got in. She told me it's illegal for a driver to refuse a ride. Plus, when was the last time you made $6 in 4 minutes? So, I said, "Why don't you just drive? I'm late for work." He replied, "Why don't you walk there? You don't know where it is?" "Please drive." "Which way you want to go?" "I don't care which way as long as I get there on time." A few minutes later he said, "I hope you have change." I didn't respond. "Did you hear me! I said, I HOPE you have change!" I didn't say anything. Then I touched a plastic part of the partition and he turned around and said, "DON'T! TOUCH! ANYTHING!"

Well, now I was just pissed as fuck. I got out my notebook and pencil to write down his cab number and name and ID, which, to my surprise, HE DID NOT HAVE! I asked for his information. "What you need that for?" "It's supposed to be posted. I need your cab number and your license." "What for?" "That doesn't matter. I need your information. Now." Then he pulled over and said, "You pay me! You get of my cab! Get out!" "Give me your information." I kept asking and he kept saying "You pay me, you get out, you pay me, you get out." I'd had enough and I was going to be late for work, so I screamed, "GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING INFORMATION NOW!!!!!" This really pissed him off. "Don't you talk to me that way!" he yelled back at me. "Don't you talk to ME that way! Give me your fucking cab number and I want to see your fucking license. This is FUCKING ILLEGAL!"

Next, he backed up Newbury St (a one way) and drives down Berkeley and parks in the middle of the road. I repeated myself 100 times. "Give me your information now! It's supposed to be posted!" He gets his cell phone out and calls what I assume is the owner of the cab and starts angrily click clucking at him. "Get off the fucking phone and give me your FUCKING INFORMATION!" He tells the person on the phone, "I don't know what's wrong with her...I don't know." "OH YEAH?!?!? GIVE ME THE FUCKING PHONE AND I WILL TELL HIM MYSELF." I banged repeatedly on the partition: "GIVE ME YOUR GODDAMN CAB NUMBER RIGHT NOW. I NEED TO SEE YOUR FUCKING LICENSE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!"

Then! He gets out of the car, comes around, opens my door, and reaches in to grab at me and I SCREAMED "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! IF YOU FUCKING TOUCH ME, I WILL FUCKING SUE YOU FOR ASSAULT MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" The people on the sidewalk in front of Valentino just gawked. I took this opportunity of him out of the car on the cell phone to get out, write down the number on the side of the cab, the cab name and call Top Cab. I explained what was happening to the dispatcher at Top Cab and he said if he doesn't have the medallion paper posted in the backseat it's not a real cab and I need to get out, not pay him, and call the police and he gave me the number to call. Meanwhile, a meter maid comes over to tell him he can't park IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET! and the piece of shit fucking fuck is telling him I won't get out of his cab and am harassing him. So, the meter maid dude comes around and asks, "Why are you giving this guy a hard time?" I got out and said, "HE REFUSED A RIDE, DOESN'T HAVE A LICENSE, AND REFUSED TO GIVE ME HIS CAB NUMBER WHICH IS" I then leaned into the cab and screamed,"FUCKING ILLEGAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK YOU, YOU FUCK!! I'M NOT PAYING YOU! EAT SHIT AND FUCK OFF!" I slammed the door and walked away, noticing I had gathered a small crowd.

I ran to work and ended up getting there on time. I called the police, described what happened, she looked up the information I gave her, and asked for a description. I wanted to say he was a stout BAD WORD with shit for brains in a black fleece with a tan knit cap, but instead, I said he was african american, short, stocky, no facial hair, no glasses, with a black fleece and a tan knit cap. She said, great, that's all we need, I'll put the word out and we'll suspend him right away.

I've never felt so exhilarated in my lifetime. I felt amazing! The whole time I was thinking, 'what is wrong with me? let this go! you never do anything like this! where is this coming from?' I was having uncontrollable rage. And I've never felt better in my life.


SO! I've decided to become a serial, albeit selective, complainer! When shit is going down and I would otherwise hold it in and fuss and fume internally and mentally write caustic editor's letters, I am instead, going to go straight to the top and let the fuckers know what Meghan thinks! Just this morning, when I ran down a flight of slick steps in plain view of the front car train conductor only to get to the 1st door and, as he closed them, get my jacket sleeve caught in the door! I pulled it out and banged on the door trying to get his attention, but the train just pulled away, leaving me in the freezing dust. So, what did I do? Did I get pissed and imagine my email to the MBTA? Did I have fake conversations about my train incident with fake clients? No. I walked over to the train map and dialed the customer service number, waited on hold for 10 minutes and told the dude I had a suggestion for the orange line. OK, what is the suggestion. I suggest train conductors NOT pull away with someone's clothing caught in the doors. He said he agreed, got all the timing info, exactly what happened, my information and promised to address the issue across the board with all train conductors. YES! VICTORY!

So, even if these people are blowing smoke up my ass, it feels so fucking good. I don't care one bit if they are lies. I feel amazing. Like I could complain about anything and there would be someone to listen and tell me sweet little lies. Well, someone besides Sasha.

WFI - my major.

gemathy: waitressing is going to be your only big moneymaker
gemathy: since you don't have a real career
gemathy: and shouldn't be a manager of anything

an AIM Adium conversation

gemath y: and then when I went down to meet her
she was the sweetest woman
she was in love with me
and the icing on the cake
I found out she sailed
and I told her I do too!
and about my grandparents yacht club
and how we can use anyones boat now that they sold theirs
and I finished her before 3

whiitethrash: why don't i know about your yacht?

gemath y: wow
I don't really have a yacht
and I hate my grandparents
and they sold their boat
and I haven't been on the boat in like 10 years or more
that's why it's so awesome
get it together sasha

a telephone conversation

gem: i'm trying to do more drugs.
lewis: me too, but it's really hard with a heart condition.
gem: oh - well good thing i don't have one of those. i just have all these damn inhibitions!!
lewis: WFI that.
gem: no, you.

WFI, a real one!!

Long story short, roommate Kirsten and I received a "notice to comply" letter in the mail near the end of November. We probably would have seen it sooner if we had bothered to check the mail since October, but whatever.

Anyway, it read a lot like, "Blah blah you are slums", "Blah blah your house makes everyone else's look even worse", and "Blah blah if you don't pull those weeds out of your front yard we will fine you lots of money blah blah!" and it read nothing like, "hey, neither of you have a criminal record*, and you don't deal drugs out of your house** or illegally own any firearms and you also never, not once, ever, have hosted brutal dogfighting matches in your backyard, so here is some money for being awesome!!!" PS - who is the neighborhood association anyway? Do I want in on that?

Around the third letter - we decided we should probably start taking them seriously. We had until December 4th before Riley Degroot (the "neighborhood inspector") would be inspecting our house again. Also, did you see that his name is Riley Degroot? What the hell kind of name is that? But anyway. We were basically going to be fined $100+ a week until we pulled them, so we made plans to get up and pull some weeds over the weekend.

However, you know. Things happen. People stay out late and don't come home and are lazy and don't want to do stupid shit that doesn't matter and sorta always think problems will solve themselves. But like, they don't.

So on the morning of December 4th, Roommate Kirsten and I drag ourselves out of bed in the cold and get to work with our bare hands. And it sucked. And then a conversation happened that went sort of like this...

"somethingsomething something crash and burn"
"Did you just say 'slash and burn'?"










So, WFI or not? Well... sadly, not. Look how silly those fires are! I mean, yes, Kirsten did catch her shoe ablaze, and yes, Gracie came awfully close to catching a muzzle full of lighter fluid, but she didn't! And Kirsten put out her shoe fire almost just as fast as it had started! There were no outrageous explosions and not even one neighbor saw us and thought we were up to no good! Instead everything...worked out? No weeds, in half the time? We love pulling weeds??

Maybe next time.







*we're ignoring Roommate Kirsten's arrest, because it was just that once...
**and we're not actually dealers, so we're ignoring this too...
***also i am stoned right now

B F I

friendemily: the hardest thing about this diet shit is no burritos
friendemily: why cant they just make diet burritos



...BFI:

DIET BURRITOS.

whiitethrash: i am supposed to go to some baby naming ceremony in peoria on sunday
roommatekirsten: who needs a ceremony to name something thats not going to remember it
whiitethrash: it's a jewish thing i think.
roommatekirsten: did you have one?
whiitethrash: i don't remember.



gemathy: did you read the nicole kidman article?
gemathy: I feel like I wrote it.

10 days ago

i got a tattoo.


just reminding you.


cuz it's kind of a permanent WFI.

the weekend.

here's a list of the WFIs i've had this past weekend:


1. hot boxing a car in a university parking lot
2. spending an evening at my parents' house
3. getting a tattoo


now, actually, one of those wasn't a bad idea at all. in fact, it was a terrific idea. the best fucking idea. and here's a hint, it wasn't #2. as for the rest? yeah, pretty bad.

WFI: Paying Bills

gemath y: I am paying bills
gemath y: it's like
gemath y: good morning and fuck you!
gemath y:that's what this is like.

i knew hanging out at the MU was a bad idea.

because yesterday, the memorial union at Arizona State University, caught on fire and burned itself down.


Actually I don't think it entirely burned down, but I did hear there were lots of firetrucks, helicopters, and even a segment on CNN.

Meanwhile I was across campus in the art building eating a slice of pizza and turning in a reduction cut relief print of a polar bear being killed by a whale. Oblivious to the goings inside the building that I occasionally venture to for bad sushi or good ice cream. Actually, the ice cream isn't even that good, but the one guy who works at Cold Stone Creamery there has the biggest biceps.

I am getting off topic.

This little email, that I'm assuming was sent to every student because I aint no member of no astrology astronomy club, was sent out afterwards. who It is lovely and wonderful and saddening and beautiful. And it makes me giggle, too! Mostly because I'm sure this is the only way a shit ton of people even knew there had been a fire.



Also, I stil have a bunch of craigslists and whatever to post, but I just don't feel like it yet...eek!

Please Don't Hate

I'm committed to you, blog. I am. Of course you would never know it seeing as how I rarely post now, and when I do, it isn't even a bad idea, it's usually a good idea, or sometimes it isn't even an idea at all, but a conversation that only I would find funny, and therefor, is a complete waste of your time, yet I try to disguise it as some sort of "idea" (good or bad) so i have an excuse to post it for my own enjoyment. AKA the post below...

But I am here. I am. And I want to post. I do. I have bad ideas, I swear. For example, yesterday I traded a joint for two slices of pizza in front of the art building. Just like that! No secrecy, just open, visible exchanges followed by a rewarding and satisfying lunch. No, seriously. That wasn't smart, was it? Not to mention, the only way I was able to afford any pot at all was by trading found oxycontin tablets (read: my dad's expired prescription medication that he left in his car which I am currently borrowing) to a guy I met off the internet during the summer who carries a gun and has a bad habit of inviting me to go "skiing" which is apparently slang for SNORTING COCAINE ("I don't have the proper attire for skiing, nor can I afford it, sorry!" ugh! Embarrassing!). More. Bad. Ideas. !!!!!

Anyway...

I still have no job and I owe my credit card about $3,400. Doesn't sound like too much when I compare it to friends of mine who owe somewhere in the $15,000 range - but those kids paid for cars! or school! or plastic surgery! I just spent it all on sunglasses, drinks at the bar when I should have been at the studio, sandwiches and CDRs!! DAMMIT!!!!!! I do have some legitimate vet bills in there and responsible cab fares home that were upwards of $60 because I LIVE SO FUCKING FAR AWAY FROM ANYTHING. Those are okay though I think, but that doesn't make me owe any less money. And now this weekend I am having a kegger and I have barely a dollar to my name (which will surely be spent on a Snickers bar by the end of the day). WORST PARTY EVER is all I have to say about that.

So to our two readers: Hang in there, this dry spell shall pass, and I'll be doing horrible things once again.

STOP IT.

I didn't even know you edited my post.

DON'T FUCKING DO THAT.

I'll have to call you a cunt or something and that will take away from my calling you gay all the time. And you know I love to do that.

So don't do that! Why would it gross you out that we are garnering hits from porn freaks? Everyone likes porn. I love porn. I'd eat it for breakfast if I could!

And if you edit this, I swear, I'll send you anthrax. Again.

WFI: Editing the Blog's Content.

Back when Gem had posted dirty pictures in her Pee Party entry, we were getting about 24 hits a day. Which is brilliant considering I only know about two and a half people; Gem being the half, because she's mostly just an internet persona. However, I was way beyond grossed out when I checked the "referrals" stats, and noticed people were only finding out page by looking up things like "peeing boys" and "piss porn".

That's not cool.

So I edited her post and removed the images, which were directly linked to their respective fetish sites.


And ever since our daily hits number has been dwindling. First it went down to 20, and then 19, and then 14, and then 12...

But we bounced back! Who knew so many people googled things like, "is Brandi Carlile gay??" or "How gay is Brandi Carlile!" And who knew that the 28th return was none other than "Another reason why I'm SORTA gay!!!! Wow, right?

(And now this post will pop up as a find too!!!)

Ah, but alas, back down it went.


To 7.


SEVEN.


Five of those are probably me and Gem, seeing if the other wrote anything.


We haven't, by the way.

But for our one dedicated reader (or is it "one, dedicated reader"?), there will be some craigslist posts to come.


But from now on, all direct links to pornography sites stay up!!

Just My Luck.

So, I really haven't been able to upload all my trip pictures because there is a limit to flicker for the month or whatever and I have 500 pictures. That makes it difficult. Anyway, I don't want to talk about my trip! I want to talk about this weekend!

Friday Night: Certified Bananas at the Enormous Room.
Saturday: Grocery shopping for party
Saturday Night: Big Fat Greek Wedding, Caroline's Birthday party
Sunday: PUMPKIN PARTYYYYYYYYYY!

Now, sure, all of those things sound fun, but in my life, there's a WFI lurking in just about every seemingly great idea.

First, I wish I wasn't going to Certified Bananas because I have so much cleaning and prep to do for the party and I still don't have anything to wear to the wedding. But! I have to do normal things and act normal so Emily doesn't pick up on the surprise part of our party on Saturday.

Then we need to buy so much for the party...food, beer, decorations, pumpkins. AND I HAVE NO MONEY. I am really screwed on this. I am hoping for a decent commission check this month or I am financially fucked for November.

Then there's the wedding, which I think will actually be fun. But I am not getting my hair done because of the aforementioned lack of time and money. AND I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO WEAR YET! It's a formal evening wedding. I am going to look so stupid because I just don't have anything. And I have to wear a dress because I am taking Mary and I can't be the girl who brings a girl and wears pants! I won't be able to take a greek boy home with me! Plus, I have to give a wedding gift, which is another $100 dollars. Also, I have no money.

And then there's the party. We invited just about everyone we know. So, I am worried there will be 50 people packed into our apartment. It could be the world's greatest party or the world's most uncomfortable party.



Then of course, there's the Emily's Birthday present surprise of us flying her secret lover in from L.A. for the weekend. It will be like a movie when she arrives at the restaurant thinking it's dinner with her sister and Secret Lover is at the table. The wrench in the whole thing is Em's x-boy who will be at Caroline's party and also our party (accidents on both accounts) who also happens to be good friends with S.L.

Hopefully the next few days will unravel neatly and with very little drama. Why do all the most exciting future BFI's have so much WFI potential? I'm sure there will be a disaster among all the WFI possibilities and I will report back. So, to our two (TWO!) fans: Wish me luck!

Gem's Date

And how was it?

gemath y: it was terrible
gemath y: he was a freak
gemath y: thank god I was so high and drunk I could barely talk
gemath y: I had an excuse to ignore him
gemath y: but I looked awesome.
gemath y: that's what's important

The Duathalon.

What an awkward mess of an evening. There is nothing funny about this post except for the absurd circumstance of the night.

That morning, Billy ran a 5K and biked over 50 miles and was exhausted and sore. Kaitlin was confused and thought the two were related in some sort of Duathalon. That's when I thought of our every weekend Duathalon: drugs and alcohol.



Erin's house party in Allston was definitely a bust. There was no one there. Once again, we brought the party. I don't know why people even have parties if we aren't there. Useless wastes of time. There were a few people there (like 5) but they were all friends from the Warped Tour and/or in Big D and the Kids Table. Srs :rolleyes:. They wanted nothing to do with us and we wanted nothing to do with them. The only thing we could do to enjoy ourselves while we waited until the cookies kicked in was drink and dance. I didn't even dance much because there were too many lights on and it was just various groupings of the 4 of us in the center of the living room. It was like being on display. I hate those kinds of parties. So, in an attempt to win the Duathalon, I just drank. And I was good at that.

The myspace date was the bigger disaster though. He sort of flaked out on coming and I convinced him it would be fine if he came because it was a shitty party anyway. I was on the porch when he arrived and I saw him through the kitchen window and I knew immediately the whole thing was a mistake. He wasn't attractive like his pictures AT ALL. At least I look like my pictures!!! And when he came out on the porch, he was clearly gay. Gay like homosexual. It's sad he doesn't know it. Then he rolled a cigarette (gross) and sat in a chair with his arm across his chest like how fat girls sit with pillows on their laps. He was extremely uncomfortable the entire night. I was in another state of mind honestly. And I was comfortable there, so I couldn't relate to this guy. And by relate I mean I barely talked to him and wanted to get away from him every time I went out on the porch to try to talk to him again. It was really awful and I made sure I got good and wasted before we went to a party on Mission Hill.

That party wasn't good either. And we got there after 2 which is not too late for a Mission Hill party, but a lot of people had already left. There was cake though and it was a welcome taste in my mouth. I can really only remember how it felt squishing in my mouth and it was awesome. Then we went to get pizza which was another surprise to my taste buds. I have never loved cake and pizza more than last night. On the way home, KT, Billy, Em, Mary and me sang/screamed along to Hero, All By Myself, End of the Road, and Don't Want to Miss a Thing. Nothing says wasted like a Mariah Carey/Celine Dion/Boyz II Men/Aerosmith sing-a-long. The best part was I had my eyes closed the whole time. That's right, I was singing with my eyes closed.

Going to bed was the best thing I did last night. I think, in the end, no one wins the Duathalon.

and I'm like daaaaaaamn that's hot

So, while our one fan awaits the recounting of Seattle misadventures, behold, the newest WFI I've done to myself.

Tonight! I am meeting someone from myspace. LOLZ! No. Freal! I'm serious. He wrote me an interesting message and I responded positively. And now I've spent this evening trying my best to appear more attractive yet that I look like this all the time and I will be meeting him at a party that might be a bust to begin with.



Update tomorrow.

ART

BFI or WFI? Instead of working on any of the fifty things I have to have done next week for midterms, I spent the night in the studio drinking beer and printing a shit ton of these.


I think it's a BFI.

oh god oh god oh god oh god

i caught a scorpion in my room.

did you hear me?

SCORPION IN MY ROOM.


vietnamfriend: i know many people who have found scorpions
whiitethrash: it only takes one, thu.
vietnamfriend: but only one
vietnamfriend: but you got it?
vietnamfriend: sasha
whiitethrash: if i had a gun
whiitethrash: with one bullet
whiitethrash: i could still kill you.
whiitethrash: do you understand??
whiitethrash: or is that analogy horrific.


AAAAHHH!!!!


in other NEWWWSSS!!! Gem is on a flight back to boston as we speak. hopefully she had some horrible ideas in seattle (like wrecking her rental car) and will tell us about them. i shall not post any more until then. toodles!

Roommate Tiffany's last hurrah!

whiitethrash: oh my god
whiitethrash: tiffany just got home
whiitethrash: and goes in her room
whiitethrash: and is like
whiitethrash: sasha!! are you playing a trick!
whiitethrash: and i'm like
whiitethrash: what?
whiitethrash: and she's like
whiitethrash: who put this lizard on my pillow!!
whiitethrash: and i'm like, what lizard
whiitethrash: and i go in her room and there's this tiny baby lizard on her pillow
whiitethrash: and i'm like, dude, i didn't put that there.
whiitethrash: and then she asked if you did
whiitethrash: and i'm like, but i'll catch it and put it outside
whiitethrash: and shes like
whiitethrash: WAIT ITS REAL??
whiitethrash: OMG
whiitethrash: OMG
whiitethrash: WHY IS IT IN HERE
whiitethrash: IS THAT WHAT KEPT BITING ME IN THE FACE ALL NIGHT
whiitethrash: and she shows me her chin and it has bite marks on it
whiitethrash: which are clearly
whiitethrash: FROM A BUG
whiitethrash: CUZ SHE SLEEPS ON THE FLOOR
whiitethrash: and then i had to catch the lizard
whiitethrash: and before i know it
whiitethrash: it pops off its tail
whiitethrash: which makes tiffany very unhappy
whiitethrash: and its just moving and jumping
whiitethrash: i totally see how beneficial that is for the lizard
whiitethrash: cuz even i, as a human being, expecting that to happen, was distracted by it.
whiitethrash: eventually tiffany runs out of the room and grabs a cup
whiitethrash: and is like, NOT TODAY!!!!
whiitethrash: and puts the lizard under it
whiitethrash: which isn't very helpful cuz then there's just a lizard under a cup on the carpet
whiitethrash: but i got it and took it outside and she threw away the tail
whiitethrash: and right now she just wheeled her suitcase out of the hall closet and she is going to start packing for tomorrow.
whiitethrash: sigh.
roommatekirsten: ahahahahahha

Roommate Tiffany: The End

Roommate Tiffany informed me last week, or perhaps even the week before, that she would be moving out before October. Her friend leased a house or some junk and Tiffany gets her own bathroom. That was the big seller. I guess I can't really blame her after the tampon incident. But damn. I will miss her sillyness.

Last weekend I asked her when she would be moving out. The conversation went a little like this...

Me: So when are you going to move out exactly?
Roommate Tiffany: Well, my friend said we could move in Friday, but I don't think I'll have all my stuff packed by then.
Me: ...sheets?

I'll miss that rainstick, maybe.

Besides that, I have had another handful of job interviews. Craigslist - either you are worthless or I am!! Because I am still unemployed. I even went to a Hallmark store for a job. Yes, Hallmark. Not such a bad idea IN THEORY though, because after all, I do want to illustrate children's books and greeting cards and I like big air conditioned rooms and having very few customers. So, you know, naturally it ended up being the worst fucking idea.

Yeah I didn't get it. There are a few reasons why. One being when I walked in, the manager told me I had "way too many piercings" for Hallmark's "very conservative environment". Whatever. Eight. All in my ears. They come out, you know. They do. I just unhook the back and they come right out! Sure, my ears are way uglier without them due to my susceptibility to keloids (ew!), but give a girl a break! But, it might also have way more to due with the personality test I had to take. Scantron style. I was told it would take at least forty minutes. Of course I pulled it off in 25-30. And I'm an honest gal. Not really. But sometimes. But when you hand me a bunch of questions essentially all boiling down to three basic ideas (1. Would I report a co-worker for stealing merchandise 2. Do I think it's okay to hire employees who "recreationally smoke marijuana" 3. Would I alert a manager if someone were drinking or doing drugs on the clock. Well, No - because I would be that employee, Yes, because I would be that employee, and lastly - No, because, I would be that employee!!!) I'm going to answer them the only way I know how. Honestly. It was actually very annoying, because it was the same basic four or five questions each repeated twenty different ways. Although the occasional random question made it quite entertaining. My favorites included, "Would it be a mistake to hire you?" (I hope they didn't notice the eraser residue on that bubble...) and "When you get angry do you break things and throw stuff?" I sure don't! But I curse a lot. Is that a problem?

Oh well. I also had to take a test for Borders. Actually the entire application is just an online personality test. Did I mention I've taken it at least four times before and never received a call back? What am I doing wrong!!! Oh well. And, this might infuriate Gem, but I applied at Whole Foods. I promise to save boxes though. ...if I get it. Which I wont. So no big deal, right?

Pigeon Poo

Recently, as in, last week, as in, like, Wednesday, I was searching craigslist for a job. Because I've been doing that every day since May (and I still don't have one BTW). I stumbled across an ad (which is no longer up or I'd screen cap it for sure) asking for someone to assist in the "cleaning and training" of their carrier/racer/homing pigeons.

No thanks!, right?? WRONG. Because it was only about three hours a week and twenty bucks an hour and it fit into my "ridiculously impossible to become employed" school schedule. So I was like, EFF YES MOTHER EFFER WOO! And I called them up and had an interview on Saturday morning.

Twenty bucks an hour is like heaven to me. The last time I was making twenty bucks an hour I was teaching an after school drawing program to elementary schoolers and I wanted to die. Cleaning pigeon poo would be a breeeeeze compared to monitoring fifteen eight year olds with markers and a sugar high.

(PS, has anyone noticed I've been punctuating this entry? CuhRazy.)

I assumed the interview would be me being taught what to do and walking away with a job. But, as it turned out, after walking through numerous "lofts" crammed with pigeons cooing in my ear and being asked silly questions like, "You aren't afraid of birds, are you?", I shook the man's hand and heard the horrible following words...

"Well I have a few more interviews today, but I will call you this evening."

What?? Other people responded to that ad?? Really?? I never would have come had I known that. Because if I have learned anything since losing my job in May it's that if there's another applicant I will not get the job and they will! I never get the job! They always get the job! God damn it!

The worst fucking idea of it all was to tell people that I was going in to apply for this job at all! Because now I have to tell them all that I didn't get it!

So does this mean I'm...really really overqualified??.... or really really underqualified...??


Oh. Fucking. Well.


Anyway, here are my two favorite haikus from yesterday. Also, I think Gem is way funnier than I am and makes way better posts than I do. Just thought I'd say that.

THUNDERDOME! and possible final blog ever.

So, I'm packing as we speak to go to Seattle tonight. All this week people have been wishing me luck, saying heartfelt goodbyes, and saying they're really going to miss me. My mom and sister even came down to visit on Thursday. And we all went to a meet and greet/fare well dinner with Emma, Kaitlin, and Mary. Katie and Emma called me on speaker phone last night to tell me they're going to miss me, but I'd talked to them less than an hour before and would see them less than an hour later. It was really starting to creep me out, the melodrama. So, I'm convinced I will probably die on this trip. Now, I'm not afraid of planes and I don't think someone will kill me, but you know, I might die. Everyone has said their final goodbyes and I've spent time with everyone I really love and I think it would be okay, really. I guess. I mean, as okay as dying can be. So, it is not so amazing this blog entry, it's not so WFI, but it may be my last WFI and final blog ever. So, you're going to have to read it and like it. If I live to tell the tales of my future misadventures, I'll remember your goodwill in reading this story of Thunderdome and grace you with PICTURE blogs as I've bought a new camera. Stay tuned. I'm sure Sasha will have at least 88 blogs to keep you entertained between now and my computer ETA next week.s

Intent on having one fantastic night of fun before I leave for my 10 day trip to the northwest coast and my imminent death, I initially wanted to beg for tickets outside Rilo Kiley and see my favorite band in the entire world for the 10th time or so, go out dancing and crash before 3 to wake up early and do laundry and pack. I spent most of the day incredibly stressed out doing all the errands I needed to get done before leaving. In typical fashion, I had a small, hunger induced emotional meltdown on the phone in a changing room at the mall and me and Emma decided to scrap that idea and just go to some dance party later on.

Then I ate mall chinese food and fuck anyone who thinks that's anywhere near a BFI. Cause it's not. I ate it in the cab home and got sticky shit all over me. Eating greasy food in the dark is really difficult. I like to think perhaps the last advice I'll ever give you is "Don't eat mall chinese food in a cab." Makes slipping into eternity all the more comforting.

Moving on. We were invited to a dance party by my ongoing 1A. He's neat. And since we can't go anywhere without a group, Heidi, Elise, Elise's friends, Heidi's friend Brittany, and Patti all met us there. We didn't know what to expect really. I imagined a super sweaty dance party in a cramped legion hall, shirtless boys hanging from American flag poles, girls we don't know who don't want to be friends with us lined up at the bathroom, inventing new dance moves to avoid people we know and don't like while trying to strategically dance near cute boys, and general mayhem. Our usual Friday night. We show up to the American Legion on the Charles in Cambridge and the party is outside! Next to the river! There's beer! There's flashing lights! Theres tons of people we DON'T know! Awesome. I guess it was like a rave only not completely retarded. I've really only seen those things happen in Lifetime movies. Although I can't say anyone wasn't slipped roofies and raped last night, I CAN say there were several djs, we drank several beers, we hung out with several friends we actually like, and had several hours of fun. What what!

Thunderdome Recap:
Sweaty dance party: negative
Fun non-sweaty dance party: CHECK! (my favorite kind!)
Idiot boys: negative
Girls in bathroom line: indoors
People we know and don't like: nowhere in sight.

Who could ask for more?

Toward the end of the night Mary says, "Hey that guy looks like Craig!" Emma says, "Everyone here looks like Craig!" Then I said, "It is Craig!!!" Craig is like, king of Boston bike dudes, is some sort of team leader, and had some organizational role in the Pee Party. I don't really know him or much about him, but he's one of Emma's best friends. So we hung out with Craig for a little bit to find an after party with some pot since I left my drugs at home. After much discussion (Should we go to the Hills? [Mission Hill, that is] Should we go to our house? Should we not go at all? Should Mary take that guy home? OMG WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO), we settled on bourbon and drugs at Craig's house. I would have been content to go home and sleep knowing all the things I had to do today. So, we head over to Craig's, smoke, listen to music, talk about bikes, look at pictures, watch Mary swing on Craig's swing, I fall asleep and before you know it it's 5:30 in the morning! Before you know it? That's like Nexthingyouknow. Nexthingyouknow??? What?! Anyway, the WFI here is DON'T GO OUT ALL NIGHT WHEN YOU HAVE TO DO LAUNDRY ALL DAY AND FLY TO SEATTLE IN LESS THAN 12 HOURS.

The end.

Please send good I hope Gem lives vibes. I appreciate them.

HAIKU!!

omg, did anyone know craigslist has a whole forum where people just post HAIKU poems???!!!! amazing!!! it's on the bottom left side BTW. and it's definitely worth your time.

this was my favorite for the day!

craigslist time!

also, here are some future WFI posts to be ready for, because right now they were totally really great ideas (tRGIs) but pretty soon they will become really really bad ideas (RRBIs), and then ultimately, the worst fucking ideas...

•fucking with things that don't belong to me but to someone else in the art department - and i hate her.
•the reason i googled "racing pigeons"
•pissing off Gem (see the previous two posts)

Fuck you.

I wrote about almost being peed on, so fuck you. I'm sorry my life isn't as tragic as yours.

I'm going to go make cheesecake and buy a digital camera.

Also, edit my posts and I will send you anthrax in the mail. <3

WFI - sharing a blog with Gem who NEVER CONTRIBUTES

or is it, WFI - sharing a blog with LEWIS who contributes far too much!!!


either way, i have a few things for today.

THING NUMBER ONE

we'll start off with my bike!!

it now looks like this....



and you might say spray painting my "pretty bike" a ghastly florescent orange, and not even limiting the paint to the frame but painting the tires/pedals/gears/spokes was the worst fucking idea. but i think it's a wonderful theft deterrent (and waaaay less geeky than the purple...)!

THING NUMBER TWO

here is a screen shot of our site meter - which monitors who comes here, how long they stay, where they're from, how they got here etc (because we like to pretend we are important enough to know that stuff). most of our hits come from people looking for PEE PORN. because of this!!!



and

THING NUMBER THREE

a wonderful craigslist personal ad. WFI all the way.

a night of brandi carlile: or, another reason why i am "sorta gay".

so last night i randomly decided to go to the brandi carlile show because i heard she's pretty good.

okay okay, i'll admit it: i have been planning all month to go because i fucking love her albums.

WHAT'S IT TO YA????

obviously i don't feel that my owning every single juliana hatfield album (including imports and singles!!!), six jordana brewster movies, three kelly clarkson posters (and her calendar) and two pairs of GAP Boyfriend jeans is gay enough, so i sometimes feel the need to seek out live music by lesbian icons. and i've been doing it for years!!!!

but last night was different...because somehow, despite the beautiful calming sound of an acoustic guitar and two bald men harmonizing background vocals...

i got into a verbal altercation with two blonde, drunk, thirty something california girls women womyn drunk whores.

the story isn't even that great. in fact the only really great part about it was that it happened at a brandi carlile show!! who does that??!! so here it is in short:

two girls = super drunk and super loud. there is nothing wrong with talking at a concert, but there is something cuuuuhraaazyyyy when your voice carries over the music, which is being run through AMPLIFIERS. like woah! i can hear every syllable! every single syllAAAAAble!!

the group behind these girls had asked them to quiet down, resulting in their extremely rude, obnoxious, middle-school like response of "NO WE AREN'T. YOU CAN MOVE THEN. OHMYGOD CALM DOWN." followed by them talking shit about the group who asked them to be quiet, but loudly enough for them to hear it - you know what i mean? there was also some neck action/snapping in the face and it was just lame.

and then i felt it... one of them tapped on my back... she wanted to talk to me...

"hey can i ask you a question??? are we being too loud??"

keep in mind, the show is going on. music is being played. and yes, they were being loud.

my response?

"well, do you want me to make up an answer? or tell you the truth? i can do either, i'm super good at making stuff up."

eek! people are watching!

blahblahblah, then they got all offended, and i tried to calm them down...

"you're drunk, you're loud, just quiet down and have fun! it's cool! we're all friends here!"

oh no! the extra drunk friend responds with, "I'M NOT DRUNK AND WE AREN'T BEING LOUD!" oh no, she put her finger in my face. IN MY FACE.

oh no, my passive aggressive form of confrontation (aka my PAFoC) kicks in and i say: "lady, that is the biggest lie i've heard all week. ALL WEEK LONG. since last saturday. the biggest, worst, lamest lie i have ever heard. out of the hundreds of lies i have heard in the last seven days, yours is number one. liar liar liar! now just shut up!"

OH MY GOD. i turned around before she could punch me in the face pour her beer in my hair call me fat, and when i looked back later on - they were both gone.... [ooooOOOOooooOOOOooOoohHHhhhh....!!] and that's when the praise came from the surrounding concert goers. shaking my hand, patting me on the back and i believe someone threw out "you're my hero" or two. no, seriously! aint no thang!

i don't know what the WFI was here, but i just had to share that story.

also, here is my favorite piece of dialogue from the evening. setting: the nastiest dive bar of all time, in the back alley where everyone goes to smoke cigarettes. players: drunk Sarah, her friend Wasted Emily, and a Random Girl eating a Slim Jim.

drunk sarah and wasted emily are rolling their own cigarettes. wasted emily is wearing cut off shorts, and drunk sarah is wearing a wife beater.

Wasted Emily to Random Girl: I hope you don't think we're trashy cuz we're rolling our own cigarettes!!

drunk sarah: ::giggle!::

Random Girl: i'm eating a slim jim!!!!

alright! that's it! bye!

wfi BFI - buying a crummy bike off craigslist!

(i apologize for the weird format of this conversation, i was on ADIUM instead of AIM)

whiitethrash: oh man are you ready for a great story

roommatekirsten: YESSS

whiitethrash:

so i get there
his only instructions were
"from warner, make a left, two blocks a right, then a right, then a left, then the blue van is in the driveway"

roommatekirsten: AHAHAHA

did you find it?

whiitethrash:

yes
and its a total creepster van
old conversion van
dirty
cracked windows
and im like
oh god

roommatekirsten:

was he inside the van?
wearing a clown mask

whiitethrash:

and there isnt a door in the front of the house you have to go around the back
so i go around back
and ring the doorbell
and no answer
and the backyard/patio is like, 2 feet from the door
and theres no fence or anything
so i hear him back there
and peek around the corner
and introduce myself
and he is this tall
skinny
old man
with a beard
and missing teeth
and wearing velcro shoes

roommatekirsten:

oh. he must be friendly
!!!
velcro shoes
and a beard!

whiitethrash

and his shorts were pulled really high

roommatekirsten

ahaha
cute

whiitethrash

and he had a NAVY hat on
and he was like
oh sasha! oh no! i tried to call you
and he sounded sad
and he was like
i can't find that bike...
i dont know where i put it..

roommatekirsten

ahahahahahahahahahaha

whiitethrash

meanwhile i saw the bike in the driveway

roommatekirsten

BAHAHAHAHAHA

whiitethrash

and i was like - oh i think i saw it out front
and he was like
no its not there...
but i have all these others bikes!

roommatekirsten

BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAH

whiitethrash

he had like, ten other bikes around and was all...
so i can give you one of these for 30!
this is the prettiest bike!
and he pulls out some shit junk purple bike
and he was like
i think you should have the prettiest bike!

roommatekirsten

OMG!

whiitethrash

and i checked it out
and he's telling me how he loves bikes cuz he has titanium hips and weak knees.
i'm not sure the connection between all that...

roommatekirsten

i love this man

whiitethrash

so i was like
its good
for 30$ its great
and you are the cutest old smelly toothless man ever
and he's like
do you have a helmet?

hahahaha

roommatekirsten

ahahahahahahahaha

whiitethrash

and i was like
OH FOR SURE
BUT I DIDNT BRING IT!
and he was like, good! everyone should wear a helmet!

roommatekirsten

ahahahaha

whiitethrash

let me show you what i can do!

roommatekirsten

this man is awesome

whiitethrash

and he got on the bike

roommatekirsten

abahahahahaha

whiitethrash

and proceeded to ride it
through the grass
to the driveway
and past my car
which is blatantly in the driveway
he stops and is all, "where did you park?"
uh, right here sir!
hahaha
so we go over to my car
and put it in the trunk
and hes like
BMW - that's a fine machine!
and i was like
if only you knew...
and he didn't want to scratch the paint
so he props the bike up on stuff i had in my trunk
and then he's like
let me get you a bungee cord!
so the trunk will stay closed!
and he gets me one out of the creeper van
and then shakes my hand
and tells me i have the prettiest bike
and then i left!
i actually think it needs new tires, but it's fine for now, and i don't even care cuz the story is just so good.


so yeah. here's the bike i went to get:



here's the bike i got...:

the best SPAM ever.

i hate SPAM. but that doesn't mean i don't go into my SPAM folder and read some of it. this one caught my attention, and in the end, i think it's fabulous. i still haven't clicked the link though. i don't love spam THAT much.

roommate tiffany update!

whiitethrash: so this morning
whiitethrash: i thought tiffany left her alarm on
whiitethrash: cuz i heard this sound coming from her room for literally
whiitethrash: a half hour
whiitethrash: but it wasn't too annoying cuz it just sounded like one of those nature clocks
whiitethrash: that wakes you up like
whiitethrash: "calmly"
whiitethrash: it sounded like a rainstick.
whiitethrash: turns out
whiitethrash: she was really just in there
whiitethrash: for a half hour
whiitethrash: playing with a rainstick.




and so the worst fucking idea would be: to NOT live with roommate tiffany!

and just in case you want to keep count, here's a list of tiffany's current possessions:

•sheets and a pillow (no bed!)
•one suitcase filled with clothes
•thirteen canisters of tennis balls
•an ironing board + iron
•a teddy bear and a bunny rabbit
•one rainstick


roommate kirsten and i give her two thumbs up.

craigslist time!!!

responding to any of the following three would be a pretty bad idea, but the 3rd one specifically would be the WORST FUCKING IDEA. anyway... enjoy!! try not to throw up!!






and this one isn't a personals ad, but far too incredible to not post!

WFI: Peeing on other people.

So I went to a party last night. A bike messenger party. After a race. In 90 degree heat. I think everyone was delirious and drunk and wet with sweat. We went for a dance party, but there were other ideas in other minds.

We arrive to the loft space and wait in a line 6 deep to pee in a bathroom with no toilet paper. Thank god for coffee filters! I've only been in a comparably grimy bathroom in rest stops in Jersey. Also, they do their dishes in the bathroom sink. Ew.

Moving into the larger dance space filled with about 100 sweaty, barely clothed, well tattooed, long haired boy bike messenger bodies, we are all in the dark. I am alone then looking for Mary or Emma or Lola or Craig or just anyone I know. The music has stopped. There are minutes of nervous confusion walking through the steamy room thick with pot odor and beer sweating of all the boys, groping everyone to find people I knew. Suddenly, the lights are back on and a babe with a megaphone is announcing the drinking contest. The rules: You must drink a can of PBR in the allotted amount of time while everyone holds a shiny tarp above their heads. When the megaphone announces NEW BEER, you drink another. If you haven't finished your last one you are out. Last one standing wins $500. P.S. You must clean your own piss or puke. When it starts, it is mayhem. I run to Mary in the corner. All the boys are going crazy, yelling, drinking, throwing beer cans, stepping on them, spraying beer everywhere. It lasted about 15 minutes. That's like 15 beers. When there is a final winner, everyone who has a beer dumps it on the poor/rich guy. There is beer raining everywhere in the room and a half inch of liquid pooling on the floor. WE WERE HAVING SO MUCH FUN!!!!!!

Then the WFI/greatest thing happened. Amidst the mayhem, there is a guy in the center of the crowd who whips his dick out and starts peeing straight up in the air peeing on everyone in sight. Mary and I run into a corner and hide behind two other boys. This guy's bladder was bottomless. He just peed on everyone everywhere. Then someone pushes him away and yells at him and he stops peeing. Only moments later he begins peeing again. Suddenly a large, sexy black man runs across the room like a dark knight in shining armor and punches the kid in the face three times knocking him into the speakers and dropping the speaker into the dj table. WE WERE HAVING SO MUCH MORE FUN!!!!! Dude fucking deserved it! DON'T PEE ON PEOPLE!!!! I was nervous we were going to have a fight club moment, but Babe With a Megaphone goes over to calm down Sexy Black Guy and the crisis is averted.

After the owner of the loft mopped up the pee and beer and sweat, the lights were off again and the dance party was back on. We danced like we had never danced before. People trickled out of the room and we were soon the owners of the dance floor. We were maniacs. Maniacs on the floor. We were dancing like we never danced before. When we gave up hours later, the fun was officially over. We ARE the party and we were leaving.

Out on the street trolling for dirty, drunk boys to take home (the good ones were gone already), we met a girl named Padmani which looks nice and all but sounds like Pudmoney. She was a wasted riot. I fell asleep in the car and woke up to a dehydrated headache.

WFI: Peeing on people. BFI: Having the most fun friends.

WFI = Changing Doctors

So my old doctor/pediatrician/my mother's good friend had to go when i turned 22. well, she didn't HAVE to by law or anything, but she had to for me to be sane. because in case you didn't read what i just wrote she was a pediatrician and my mother's good friend. And i was 22. and shouldn't be hanging out in a waiting room with dinosaurs painted on the walls and a Playskool kitchen set in the corner while my mom's dinner and a movie buddy runs her hands all over my body. no thank you! also, you know, since she's my mom's friend, every time she asked me anything with the words "sex" or "drugs" in the question i just automatically had to answer no NEVER!!! for fear that if i said yes she would scurry into her little office, pick up her little cell phone and dial my mother!!! and then i would be so grounded...


nonsense!!!!

so new doctor time!


and my first appointment was yesterday.

I answered all their silly questions about family history (most of which i think i guessed on...because as it turns out, i don't know anything about my family at all!). Even on my OWN PERSONAL HISTORY. "So, you mention you see a cardiologist, what conditions do you have?" "Well, i don't remember the name of it but it has to do with like, something in my chest not working right and then a family history of something involving elevated levels of stuff i shouldn't have in my body."

specific.

"mmhmmm..." says the doctor lady. "well if you were taking this medication, then i'm assuming you had ::insert name of some problem::." "i think i've heard that before. i have that. yeah. that's the heart thing." (by the way, it's not, i later found out)

anyway, then she says, "and how about pap smears. are you regular on those??"

GET OUT OF TOWN. NO. STOP.

"let's do one right now!"
"no."

i dont think this woman has ever been told no before. she was so confused. her eyes screamed, "no? what? but the speculum is out already! and i just put on this glove!"

"no, we can skip that today. i'm not really interested in having that done."

silence.

"so...is that it?" i asked her.

and no. she took her glove off and asked me if she could "at least" do a breast exam.

AT LEAST.

like, oh man, if i can't et you to take your pants off can i puh leeeez unhook your bra! she actually did ask if she could unhook it for me. like, helping me out style i think. but nonetheless, no. i've been unhooking my bra since i was 12. yeah. TWELVE MOTHER FUCKERS. WHAT'S IT TO YOU.


and then you know, she starts doing her job, making conversation, telling me what she is doing...and then...

"so do you prefer men or women??"

wait what? did you seriously just ask me that while rubbing your fingers in a circular motion around my nipples? wait, come again?

the question was also on the initial questionnaire i had to fill out (with a check mark right next to MEN). which i definitely found a little weird - had they not changed their question sheet since the 1980s? but anyway...

what a weird time to ask me. and before i could even answer her -

"you know, because you don't want the pap smear, is it because you think girls cant transmit disease to other girls? so you don't think you have anything to worry about?" she continued...


"i just don't want to take my pants off today..." actually, i said it more like, "i just don't want to take my pants off today??"

and that was pretty much it. she told me next time we should do the "thing i didn't want to do". i said, "oh definitely."


there really wont be a next time though. not anytime soon at least...

so yeah. worst fucking idea? new doctors. did i mention she is also my mom and dad's doctor? i dont think i can talk to her either...


BTW, she is a good doctor, i just make every situation more and more awkward with my horrible interpretations of the world around me. please don't sue me doc!

Miss Vietnahm*

whiitethrash: are you really doing miss vietnam?
vietnamese friend: i dont know
vietnamese friend: haha
vietnamese friend: did you find the website
whiitethrash: no
whiitethrash: but i am about to
whiitethrash: and i want you to
whiitethrash: so i can cheer you on
whiitethrash: youd have to make me signs
whiitethrash: in vietnamese
whiitethrash: okay, here it is
whiitethrash: and first of all
whiitethrash: the girl on the left
whiitethrash: is not vietnamese
whiitethrash: she is indian.
vietnamese friend: lol
whiitethrash: 2ndly
vietnamese friend: shes probably part
whiitethrash: the girl 2nd from the right
whiitethrash: is hispanic
whiitethrash: and miss congeniality is obviously chinese
whiitethrash: this is all wrong.
whiitethrash: rebecca jasmine??
vietnamese friend: haha
whiitethrash: theres a slight possibility
whiitethrash: she's jewish.

question: is being in the miss vietnam pageant the worst fucking idea? or is me going and cheering her on from the audience while holding a sign that says something in vietnamese the worst fucking idea? or are they both super awesome ideas? well i'll tell you what the best fucking idea was, and that was having girls who are blatantly not vietnamese (or asian!) winning! viva rigged competitions/bribery/liars!!!



*NAHM. i did it on purpose.

"what the bloody hell is this!"

roommate kirsten's dad is a cockneyed british man who enjoys reeboks, tank tops, and his bulldog tattoo. his name is john, but everyone calls him nigel because that's what roommate kirsten calls him. he is also the landlord of this here house, so when all the showers and toilets backed up today, he was the one to come fix them.

todays task involed a 100 foot rooter and about five hours. eventually the culprit was found. and i hate to do this to you, especially after berating Gem for the pad picture...

but it was a clump of tampons.

and the man pulled them out with his bare hands and uttered the title phrase.

(right when the initial backup occurred earlier in the day, i looked at kirsten and i said, "i bet it's tampons. i bet you anything. and it will be horribly embarrassing and i will be speechless. this will be so awkward.")

i mean they weren't like, red or anything (i know i'm sorry!!! but i have to tell you what happened!), but he held them in his hand and tugged on them and tried to pull them apart. and since roommate kirsten has her own bathroom, which although affected by the clog was not where the clog originated, and since roommate tiffany wasn't home, she said "haha they're all sasha's!"

so there i stood, in the hallway, looking into the bathroom at the tan, sweaty, middle aged british man, holding a wet clump of used tampons in his hand, in a puddle of dirty water. on his face: a grin. on roommate kirsten's face: a huge smile. on my face: absolute mortification.

and then roommate tiffany comes home with her boyfriend, whose hands are all bandaged from a motorcycle accident, and she inquires about the situation.

and i tell her.

and she says, verbatim, no lie, 100%:

"oh my god it's all my fault! i have a heavy flow!!!"

and you know, flushing the tampons isn't the bad idea here. in fact, even though he told me not to do it anymore, i am absolutely 100% positive i will continue to do it every month. and i will encourage others to as well because the worst fucking idea would be to not do that!!! today's worst fucking idea was looking nigel in the eye, while he held a giant clump of used wet tampons and saying, "woops!".

and i wont ever do it again.

WFIs of the week:

1. Signing up for facebook- Adding applications and poking people makes me feel as though I wasn't truly wasting enough of my life before. Who knew I had so much potential?


2. Working at a job where people can easily begin menstruating on your workspace- This is something they do not tell you about in esthetic school.


3. Spending $100 a day- Making $100 a day in cash has its ups and downs. The up part is when I get it and the down part is when I spend it. Did I even buy anything? I don't even know.


4. Slightly using your neighbor for his Wii/being attracted to beards- I think he has a crush on me and Roommate Mary thinks he has a crush on her. I don't even care because he has an unusual lisp and he only looks good when he has a beard. There are pros, however, to seeing a guy who lives upstairs. There are also cons. Lots of cons. But those pros!

That's it for Friday. Week's not over yet.
P.S. Let's start a collection of comics that don't make sense.

tomorrow, maybe, i'll change my life, unless i'm too tired, in which case i wont.

gemath y: I am going to join weight watchers tomorrow
gemath y: if I wake up in time
gemath y: if I don't wake up in time, I'll go buy the rilo kiley cd
whiitethrash: can i WFI that?
gemath y: No.

sending this would either be the best fucking idea, or the worst fucking idea....

i received an award in 2006 - well, a grant really - to do a project for Hillel at my university. Long story short, they stiffed me, sent me nasty letters asking for a return of the half of the money they had given me at the beginning, and have been a general nuisance ever since. I keep trying to get my dues from them but they keep coming up with nonsense. so basically, after a bunch of letter writing and them attacking my character, calling me a "failure", saying my project was incomplete and even yelling at me and my mom on the phone, lying, being hypocritical and avoiding their responsibilities i have had enough. this is my final letter to the head of the committee. other players include the rabbi, who basically co-heads the committee but wont admit it because then he has to TAKE RESPONSIBILITY, and maureen, a secretary of sorts.

all the other letters i had written them were very direct, polite and appropriate. but that's no fun, is it??!!


Well David,

Yo it's like this, I really enjoyed your brief history of the success of the Frazer award. It looks like so much fun that I am even considering trying for it again next year - - wouldn't that just be aces! Are food and beverage provided at the awards? I sure hope so, I love cheese and crackers.

Enough about lactose (does it give you gas? it gives my brother gas), my mother showed me the letter you sent to her regarding both the previous letter she sent to you and Rabbi Lee and my "failed committments", and I cannot thank you enough! I haven't laughed so hard since Gallagher's Sledge-O-Matic special in 1998!! Who knew lies, bullshit, and outright make believe could be so funny!! You did, David! You did! I especially loved the part about "knowing the facts" and your creative usage of the word "spite" in place of the word "despite". Or was that by accident? Humm... I bet you make a fabulous lawyer!

These incidents you speak of, with wild and great imagination, are the things children's books are made of! Which is both ironic and convenient considering I hope to be an illustrator of children's books in the future - so if you ever feel like fully developing these "fantasy worlds" into a completed story and you need an illustrator - you know where to find me (wink!)! But remember, I have very little (if any) understanding of "committment" and I often times take things for granted...

I love that you think I ignored Maureen's phone calls (all both of them!) and e-mails (of which I have only three, one of her cancelling an appointment I had with the Rabbi and postponing it, last minute, and the other a response to an e-mail I had sent her regarding specific meeting times and my availability), it's like you pulled this shit out of your ass. straight from your ass. you stuck your hand up your butt hole and ripped this from your innards, bloodied and soiled.. Your inclusion of the e-mails was a nice touch too, especially considering they don't include MY writings to Maureen, and just hers. Well played, Mr. Frazer!

And you are absolutely right about my project being unfinished in February. It most certainly was. Absolutely 100% unfinished in February. Did you know the projects were due March 19th? That's weird.

Humm..what else... oh, "redirecting" my project toward children. Well, yes and no. I didn't REDO my project, it just so happened that while working on it it had taken a direction geared toward youth. Perhaps it had to do with my years of teaching the wee ones or my previously mentioned desire to illustrate books for kids. Either way, the Rabbi really fucked up his notations on that meeting we had! I think all those back problems got to his ears!! I kid, I kid!

Lastly, once again you're right about something. i didn't bring my finished project to the Rabbi until the end of April. Why? Well, because no one had asked me for it prior. There had been no rescheduling for the presentations and no requests to see my project, so i just kept it at home until someone asked for it. And then I brought it in.

Oh - before i forget, you mentioned something about the "inappropriate tenor" used by my Mother in her letter to you, which reminds me, I don't think I ever got a chance to thank you for calling me an irresponsible failure. I really appreciated it. Is that better or worse than a washed up, hypocritical Jerk face of a Lawyer cheating young artists out of hundreds of dollars?? I'm not quite sure, and neither are my two peers from 2006 who also didn't receive their dues.

Well, before I end this letter between friends, I would like to share a short list I've made of things you can do with the money I am owed, but will never receive.

1. stick it in your butt
2.
3.

Uh oh! It's unfinished!

-best wishes,
Sasha

PS no i don't want to do a presentation for a "small portion" of the money.

My dream job.

I want 987654345678 for all my closest friends!

it's craigslist time!

if i had any comments they are directly on the image. best is saved for last. enjoy!

truth hurts. hey what's up, Mark??

On Perez Hilton.

gemathy: if he were skinnier
gemathy: went back to the grey hair
gemathy: kept some scruff
gemathy: and wore more muted clothes
gemathy: he'd be more attractive
gemathy: I would like to be his stylist
gemathy: I've been dressing fat people for over 23 years





*i am just now noticing that we have yet to tag anything with "GAY". how the hell is that possible??? this blog is full of GAYness!! i hereby tag this entry as HOMO!

ambassador roommate kirsten meets the academic bowl.

so last year roommate kirsten and i stumbled across what may be our true calling. and no, it wasn't the female of the universe televised broadcast. instead it was the Arizona State University Academic Bowl. she and i came across it one night on campus in a little room with a stage somewhere in the labrynth that is known as the Memorial Union. basically each college at the university has it's own team of four-eight "brains", and they compete in a game show style head to head trivia-fest. with buzzers!! BUZZERS!! I KNOW. the initial step to team placement involves some sort of "written exam" that needs to be taken sometime during the first week of school. omg i love exams (NOT!) but i do love academic bowls! anyway, after watching the college of fine arts lose HORRIBLY to some engineers or science nerds or some other college with promising post-graduate careers (and no lie, between the two of us, we knew all the answers - we could have won that thing!) we said "NEXT YEAR BITCHES. WE WILL BE ON THAT TEAM NEXT YEAR."

and this is that next year.

roommate kirsten is out of town though, out of the country even, and so i just had to make sure she would have time to take the test with me. because i want her on my team! but mostly because i don't know where the office is that we're supposed to take it in, and i'm almost positive that she does.

anyway, to roommate kirsten i wrote:

i dont know if youre checking your email from across the pond but you should be.

we need to take the test for the academic bowl. we have to. that team would be so rad with us on it hahha.

and from roommate kirsten i received:


i am. im in france right now
and i hate it so far. just got here bout 2 hours ago. the french really are stupid jerk faces. ive found one nice one though and he woks at the counter at the hotel. but i did see the thing for the academic bowl and i agree. hows the house? i got you a key chain. its so stupid. ahaha

this test is going to be so great. is this a WFI or what?? here i come, WFI!!! here i come!!!