Bipolar or something like it...

A former S.L.C. Punk, baptised and converted to a N.Y.C. Punk.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Social Unawareness

Dear Jerkface,
So you give me grief about not emailing you, and not sending you any photo's, and here it is days later, and I have not heard a peep from you. Well, whatever I guess. I will fill you in on the latest NYC tidbits. I have come to a few realizations about this place, it's funny, sometimes you think you have it all figured out, and then something will happen to make you question all the conclusions you have come to. Yes, New Yorkers are notoriously rude, and I must say there is truth in that, but what I have come to notice more and more while I reside here is that more than anything a lot of people here have no social awareness. Maybe it's that they are so consumed by the greatness of themselves that they don't realize that there are other people around them. For example, yesterday, on my lunch break I stopped in to my local Duane Reade to pick up a few items. There were four separate lines for four separate cashiers. I, being the nice Utah girl I am waited patiently for my turn, making sure not to get in anybody's way. Once I reached the register, I set my stuff on the small counter in front of me in anticipation of being rung up. All of the sudden, there is some short, middle aged women standing directly beside me, literally touching me with her body. Not only is she completely invading my personal space, she starts to set her freaking things down on the counter with my stuff! Naturally, the cashier assumes we must be together, because nobody would stand so close unless they knew you. In assuming this, she starts ringing up this idiots stuff with mine! I mean come on! What the what what? I told the cashier, "that's not mine." Her response " wha?" "That's not my stuff" Dumb lady to my left, "oh, yeah, that's mine." Okaaay. Who in the hell does that? Mind you, it is not like the automated check out lines at the grocery store, where things can more easily get mixed up. It's a tiny little counter space, where only one person at a time can fit. All I can say is, people out here need to learn that there is approximately one foot of space surrounding each person that must not be invaded, unless of course one asks for invasion.

Thursday, March 23, 2006

What in the what what?

Hola my good buddy,
I can't believe that you found that old picture of me, wow, those were certainly the days. I don't regret the nose job, eyebrow lift, lip enhancements, forehead replacement, liposuction, tummy tuck, breast augmentation, full body lift though. I mean, when I look at that picture I just realize that I wasn't at my full potential. I found this picture of you from that same year! My how we have both changed. Me for the better, you for the worse. Oh, geez oh, well, good times huh? So, I got myself on some medication for the little outbreak problem, and good news...I should be all clear when I come out to SLC in April. Make sure that your torture chamber is all set up for the movie. I only have a limited time to shoot, so we need to take advantage of every minute. That reminds me, I need to call your mom, and make sure she gets waxed before that weekend, I don't want any nasty hair distracting from the pleather outfit she'll be wearing. Alright, well, I'll keep you updated on any other props/tools that we may need. TTFN!

Wednesday, March 22, 2006

What is HOOCH?

So my friend Tara and I consistently incorporate words into the English language that others might not understand. One word that we use often is "hooch". Although one may think that it is a shortened version of hoochie mama, well it is, but it's just so much more than that. You can insert it into any sentence. Think of it as sort of a catchall for anything or anybody that pisses you off. i.e. "That guide is such a hooch." Here are a few more definitions for fun...Oh one of my own bigtime definitions of a hooch, you are a hooch if your picture on my space looks like a porn add.

You are a hoochie if.... 1). You've ever crawled out of a club because a fight broke out. 2). You've ever started a fight with someone because you didn't like the way someone looked at you.3). You've ever messed up/trashed someone's outfit because it was identical to yours.4). You've ever started a fight with another woman because they looked at your man "The Wrong Way".5). You think of faux furs and leopard print clothing as "good clothes".6). You ever went to your baby-daddies job for money to buy milk or diapers. 7). You expect your man to pay you rent, and he doesn't live with you.8). You've ever said, "I loved-ed my man, even when he did his time upstate for me".9). You've ever said, "I love me some him".10).Your wedding gown was a short cock-tail dress that was "hooked up" but the seamstress. (Who just so happened to your mother)11).You bridesmaid gowns were bought from Weiners.12).So were their shoes.13).Your oldest daughter was the "miniature Bride" in the ceremony.14).You and your boyfriend were banned from your child's Jr. High dances because the two of you led everyone to believe you were auditioning for a production of "Dirty Dancing".15).You've ever gotten you hair and nails "did".16).You and your mother are pregnant at the same time. 17).Your grandmother is 42, your mother is 28, and you are 14 with a baby on the way. (You do the math)18).Your children are more than 6 years older than their aunts and uncles.19).You believe no woman's wardrobe is complete w/out lycra and spandex.20).Your fingernails are so long people often wonder how you wipe your @$$.21).You always declare, "Ain't no shame in my game".22).You bought matching outfits for you and your daughter. She wore hers to school and got sent home. You wore yours to work and was told to leave because your outfit was "inappropriate", and "distracting".23).Some how, you grew 12" of hair in 10 hours.24).Your hair is brown, your crochet braids are black and gold.25).You're a 14, all of dresses are size 9's.26).Your hair is so tall that you have a designated seat at the back of the movie theatre.27).You consider glue, glitter, and chop sticks as hair acessories.28).You aren't allowed to dance in the club because men slip you dollar bills.29).You think you are high class just because you've drank $30.00 Moet and Chandon.30.)Every babydaddy you have is in jail.31).You've ever thrown any of the following at your man: TV, VCR, Toasters, curling irons, irons, or any major appliance32).You'd rather have a big screen TV than a computer.33).Your name has more than one "Q" in the spelling.34).Your name is more than three syllables long.35).You name ends or begins with "La, Ta, Sha, Qa, Quo" 36).Any of the following songs can be your official theme songSock It To Me(Missy Elliot), Doo Wop (That Thing)(Lauryn Hill), One Night Stand(J-Shin), Hot Spot(Foxy Brown), You Know I'm A Hoe(Master P& Ice Cube)37).You wear flip-flops and mini skirts to the store.38).You've worn more than one hairstyle at a time (you know, finger waves on the front, crimps on the right, French roll, and spiral curls in the back)39).You carry your baby on your hip. 40).You've got a baby on each hip.

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Dental Dam it!

Hello Jerk Face,
What's going on? Once again, I am writing to say hi and to tell of the wonderful adventures that this city steadily provides me. As you know, this past Friday was St. Patrick's Day, and what better day for debauchery is there? A perfect excuse to go out and get crazy in every way, so of course I had to take advantage. The evening consisted of a birthday party held at club 40/40 (Jay Z's place) needless to say, I think we were possibly the only white people there. We decided to show off our awesome white chick dance moves, and boy-oh-boy we were so hot. Tara and I have plenty of booty to go around, so I think we fit in nicely. Actually, people were starring at us like we sucked pretty bad, but oh well, it was good times. As the evening progressed we met up with some L.I. Guido's and became a dancing Guido foursome...Tara and I are slowly adapting ourselves to the Guido lifestyle. We took them home, and finished off the night in mad Guido style. Then yesterday, I woke up with a raging sore throat. I called in sick, and paid a visit to my local healthcare provider... You'll never believe, I have herpes in my throat. Yes, herpes. That damn Guido infected me! Now I know that the only way to go is dental dam stylee. Well, I guess it's the price you pay for having fun.

Just kidding, I actually have some type of strep infection, but thought that I would make things more interesting. Did you have a good weekend?

Thursday, March 16, 2006

This just in...New Yorkers are Gross!

Well,well,well, ya New York freaks, I am going to reveal some of your deep dark secrets. You think no one is watching you because you're so used to being inconspicuous in this overpopulated place, but I have news for you...We are! Now, I am sure you think you can get away with anything here, and I guess you can, but I want to let you know, that I think you are so gross. Never in my life have I witnessed such blatant disregard for privacy. You see, when we (those who were not raised in this part of America) were young, our parents taught us about these things called manners. They are unwritten rules that one follows out of respect for those around them, but as I have come to clearly see, you guys just don't give a shit. I would like to use the example of the gym locker room. Now I know that it's public, and I know that we are all in there changing together...But for hell sakes, there are certain things that one must reserve for the privacy of his or her home. Like, please do not polish the crack of your ass with them gym towel in front of me, I just do not want to see that. I also don't want to watch you pluck your fucking chest hairs, yeah you, I'm talking about you, ya hairy nippled freak. Also, if you could refrain from popping your nasty zits until you get home, that would be nice. Last but not least, If you have a nasty fugly body, wrap a towel around yourself, because I really don't need to be subjected to your endless rolls and flabby boobs all up in my business. Didn't your mother teach you anything?

Wednesday, March 15, 2006


What's crackin? For some reason it feels as though it's been ages since we spoke. What's going on back in SLC?Have you heard of that new show on HBO about Salt Lake Polygamists...prolly you have. I didn't see it this weekend, but am tempted to get HBO installed so I can watch that and the last season of Sopranos.
Same old, same old here in NYC. Just work and play. This last weekend was pretty fun. Tara and I ended up having a dance off with a couple of midgets. We won, of course. No one can hang with my amazing moves. I had to dig deep, and pull out some of my faves from the days of yore, ya know, the sprinkler, roger rabbit, running man etc. I think I'll go home and practice tonight, just in case another dance off comes up this weekend. Who knows, maybe a talent scout will spot us and want to put us on T.V. or something. Oh, we also managed to get ditched by a couple of Guido's. I don't think my ego has recovered yet. I cried myself to sleep last night. One minute we were hanging out with them, secretly plotting to ditch THEM, and the next minute...they were gone. We turned our naive backs for a second, see ya later beeyotchis. Needless to say, Tara and I were confused and shocked that the Guido's would ditch us, I mean, come on. This only led to the further deterioration of the evening, with us feeling insecure, it was any mans game. We ended up going home with a couple homeless guys. Didn't do much for my ego, but at least they had some crack to share.
Your best buddy,

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

Way hotter than any of you

Tuesday is one of the best T.V. nights of the week. Oh yeah, MTV baby. First we start out with 'The Real World, Key West,' and can it get any more real than these people. I mean hell sakes, Paula is going to die of malnutrition right before our very eyes. We have John, who reminds me of every frat boy I've ever met. Then, there's Jose, the sweet guy that managed to make it out of the hood. Next we have Janelle, the bi-racial chick with the attitude. Don't forget Tyler, the gay guy, do I need to even mention that he's a flamboyant bitch. Last but not least, we have Svetlana, the Russian Mafia princess, who actually reminds me of a lot of the Long Island Jewish gals that I meet her in NYC. Oh wait, I forgot the forgettable Zach, hmm, boy next door, I suppose. What this season holds, no one knows. With these real and deep cast of characters, you never know. I can't wait to see how these people will grow and change right before my eyes. Man, you gotta freakin love reality television.
Oh, it only gets better...The next half hour holds the newest MTV gem '8th and Ocean.' Can you say HOTTIES. I mean, a whole half hour devoted to looking at people far better looking than myself, trying to make it the modeling world, and sometimes getting their asses kicked, by the man that runs they're agency. I think it's a man anyway. I can't really tell. Sweet nectar, is all I have to say. Check it out.

Monday, March 13, 2006

All they want to do is grab your crotch

What the hell is up with guys in this city? I mean, seriously. Do they breed them to be total over sexed jerks, or what? I've now lived here for almost two years, and I still can't get used to the way that dudes act out here. I went out on Saturday night to The Dark Room, and was having a rockin time, you know, showing off my sweet dance moves, when some guy randomly grabs my crotch. We're talkin a full on squeeze. I wasn't even dancing with him and he comes up to me and grabs me. What the fuck? Who does that? Last time I checked, that kind of behavior was reserved for pervy next door neighbor types. Well, I ended up shoving the douchebag, and practically knocking him over. I think I might have tried to fight him if my friend didn't grab me and pull me away. Then to top off the night, while walking to the subway, some lame jerkass kept asking my friend and I if we wanted to have sex. Yeah, okay, lets go. Seriously, what the hell. I told him we were lesbians, and even that didn't dissuade him. He just asked if he could come home and watch. So finally I told him about these things called prostitutes, and explained that we were not. Another lovely night on the town!

Friday, March 10, 2006

Friggen Complaints

I was walking up Lexington the other day with the usual thoughts going through my head, you know, like "hey dumb ass, could you walk a little slower" and "I'm so tired" and "I can't believe it's only Tuesday" and "I hate work" .... And then I realized what a freaking complainer I was being. I mean, yeah things suck a lot of the time, but not that bad. I have food, housing, a job, and a lot of things that I should be grateful for. When I took a little time to think about it (no, this is not me contemplating the situation and deciding to be more happy with what I do have) everybody I know is always complaining. It's what we do. It's how we make conversation. We tell people what sucks in our lives, we ruminate about it in our heads, I mean, I heard some beeyotch on the phone complaining about her stupid leg as I was thinking about all of this. Point is everybody is a fucking complainer. Including me.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Does every one want to be famous?

Since I can remember, I've always had a fascination with celebrities. I can remember sitting on my parents water bed, flipping through my mom's magazines, and wanting to know who these glamorous looking people were. When I was in third grade, I even went as far as lopping off all of my hair in hopes of looking more like one of these fantastic stars that I saw on the television. Unfortunately, that only got me a bunch of 3rd grade boys mocking me, saying that I looked like a boy. But really, what is it? What is it about these people that lure us in and make us want to by the four dollar magazine that holds the truth about 'what really happened'. And do all of us want to be them? I have just discovered blogging, and think it's a wonderful thing, but am curious to know why a lot of people do it? Is it that they hope that someone will pay attention to them, and what they have to say. Sometimes, I read other peoples blogs, and can't help myself from wondering what is this persons intention. Do they hope to become famous from writing this online journal. I mean there are people that have done it, so why not? Anyway, I guess what I am really asking is, why do people write blogs?

Does every one want to be famous?