Blogging

I told my dad to read my blog post about ex-boyfriends that I wrote a few weeks ago. I know men hate that feminist shit-talking stuff so he naturally left me a comment (which I never approved) asking something along the lines of "Don't you have anything better to write about?"

Do I? Wikipedia says "Many blogs provide commentary or news on a particular subject" and I have reached a hasty generalization, after reflecting on the small sample of blog material I have subjected myself to over the years,that a few of the most blogged-about subjects are politics, celebrity gossip, amateur movie reviews, and stories about stupid shit one does when they are drunk.

I can't talk about politics. I waste too much time watching crappy morning news shows and the same episodes of South Park over and over again to stay current on political events. When Anderson Cooper talks I am mostly just drooling over him. Plus, I can't compete with the Huffington Post or anyone smart/arrogant/pushy enough to engage in the discussions.

Celebrity Gossip is out of the question on account of Perez Hilton (and the comparatively inferior TMZ).

Movies. I cannot, in good faith, jump into the business, that many people who fancy themselves intelligent partake in, of publishing unimportant opinions on movies I have recently watched. Movies are great, I like them too, but I am not Roger Ebert and I realize that nobody cares if I enjoyed Milk or what my Oscar predictions are. It blows my mind how many people are confused about their role in the whole move watching and reviewing business.

As far as sharing with the world the beloved genre of moving drunk narratives: I can't even do that. Other people's drunk stories are surprisingly less exciting than your own, which presents a problem for anyone who has a strong desire to share them with the world. But see, even if my drunk stories are mildly entertaining (mostly humiliating) I rarely remember any of them, let alone enough to reveal a quasi-cohesive chain of events.

This is not Stuff White People Like. Sorry Dad, that I have no hope of ever being insightful, but I have diligently exhausted all of my readily available options. Still, I am comforted by the fact I am not confused about my blog entries and am not under the misguided notion, like so many others, that other people are interested.

This ALMOST Made Me Feel Tingley Inside..

I was SO in the mood to indulge in girly lovey-dovey cuteness this morning...after all, when I checked Facebook a bit ago and saw a high school friend I haven't seen since 2003 gave birth to her baby I got teary eyed. I checked Yahoo for the news headlines and saw this title: More People I Love Than Previously Thought.

Awwe. I read through the article, which made a distinction between romantic and obsessive love, the romantic which can endure the test of time and contribute greatly to an individual's overall health and happines. That's cute, right?

I guess I sort of glazed over the first paragraph (I am still on coffee cup no. 1) because the statistic there reads: "Instead about 13 percent of people reported high levels of romance in their long-term relationships, in a new study published in the March issue of the journal Review of General Psychology." Only 13% of people in long-term relationships are romantic? Is that it? And that is more than what they had previously thought? I don't know about you, but unless we are talking about the unemployment rate, 13% is pretty low and not super brag-worthy. That article officially fails at making me feel, as Jasleen would call it, "rommantical". I am shamelessly resorting to cute kitty pictures.


http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20090320/sc_livescience/morepeopleinlovethanpreviouslythought

Just A Few Quick Thoughts On the Morning Newscast

I love my morning news shows. Anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I love the traffic report but I also like to stay on top of the weather forecast (damn I sound boring) and enjoy watching the news and listening to news anchors that are slightly unprofessional and sometimes entertaining.

Being as neurotic as I am, there are naturally things that bug the shit out of me on the morning shows. The less severe, is the weather man, Mark Kriski's, heinous taste in suits and ties. Not all weather reporters can be hot like Jackie Johnson, I know. I also realize that weather men have a reputation for bad suits and ties (with sportscasters being a very close second). However, Mr. Kriski's suits are always too big, he wears too many pinstripes and his ties are always too busy and never coordinate.


Worse, I hate it when Sam Rubin talks about what happened the night before on crappy reality TV. Not that the morning news show is intended to be award-winning journalism, but reality TV is the anti-newsworthy. It just makes no sense. If I cared about what happened on American Idol and Dancing With The Stars, I would have watched and would have no need for the repetitive recap. If I didn't know what happened and needed the full-report on what the judges said and who got eliminated, it probably means that I don't give a shit.

Things I am Thankful For: Being Able to Effectively Breathe

With absolutely no warning, besides my recently diseased also unemployed and home all the time roommate, I woke up with a grotesque cold yesterday.

That is the nastiest feeling: a dry foul-tasting throat, a runny nose and an aching body. Anyways, last night I had one of the worst night's sleeps I've had in a while. I alternated between too hot and too cold, tossed and turned, switched out my hot pillow for a cool one and stared at the cottage-cheese ceiling in frustration for more time than I actually spent in my normal restless sleep.

After these past few days of warm weather, no air conditioner, lots of sneezing and struggling for air, I promise not to take my health for granted for at least a few weeks.

Obsessive Tweeters

Upon logging into Twitter and accessing ones 'Home' screen, one is prompted with the question 'What Are You Doing' and presented with an empty text field just begging you to divulge.

I feel like some of the people I am following take this a little too literally and are maybe logging on wayyyy too much -- this all coming from the unemployed girl who is obsessed with her computer.

Some people feel the need to tweet about EVERYTHING they do, think and feel throughout the course of their day. I am talking 10+ tweets a day. Now, let's be clear: I love Twitter, occasional verbal diarrhea and more than occasional sharing of too much information. However, not even Christian Bale updating about being naked or outrageously pissed off on the set of Terminator Four are interesting enough to make this type of obsessive tweeting appropriate.

I won't say it pisses me off, but it confuses me when people think they need to tell us everyday like clockwork that they just woke up, are going to the gym, taking a crap or falling asleep at night time. Ummmm okay, that's nice. Even more confusing: when someone feels the need to tweet about an activity they are currently engaging in that might be fun. Like, why do you have to disrupt whatever fun stuff you are doing, that you are excited enough to tell us about, to access your Twitter account and tweet about it? Moment killer???

So basically.... When I have a job and less time on my hands, I wish people would either be more interesting or less Twitter-happy so I don't waste as much time reading their crap.

Mr. Touchy-Feely Nightclub Bouncer Guy

Ladies, maybe we are asking for it. We go to a nightclub, most of us scantily clad and willfully too tipsy to exercise anything resembling sound judgment. We say we are going just to dance with our girlfriends but we know what we are really after: obtaining as many free drinks as possible from as many pathetic club-going douchey men as we can. Not that we normally NEED the free drinks, unless you happen to be unemployed or self-employed like myself and my girlfriends, but it's a game, really.

This past Saturday night I was NOT asking for it. I was wearing jeans, a modest t-shirt, even my Converse. I may have bee open to the prospect of squeezing free drinks from vulnerable men given a "too easy" opportunity, but not pursuing it. We are invited onto a promoter's guest list 3 steps towards the club down Hollywood Boulevard. Good. We get past the line and through security with flask safely secured in my 'special' purse. Cool.

Then, to our surprise and dismay, the bouncer stationed at the front door methodically checks all three of our IDs, asks us, all three of us, to spin around for him, makes a comment about our asses and proceeds to go ahead and grab/slap our asses. That is definitely a first. Especially for a club formally used as a Hollywood rave venue desperately trying to establish itself as 'classy.'

So outrageous, it was bordering on funny, I found myself not sufficiently drunk to be amused by this guy. I briefly entertained the not-so-comforting notion that maybe, by nature of our collective female desire to exploit nightclub staff and customers, we deserved this. Sadly, it turns out, us girls, though painfully close, never did get any free drinks Saturday night. I guess that is minus one point for our dignity and another unrefereed point for chauvinism!

Similarities Between Job-Hunting and Dating:

- An embarrassing amount of time spent wondering "Why is my phone not ringing?"
- Isolated incidents of mild jealously directed at those who have good jobs or meaningful relationships
- Increased desire to watch Lifetime movies
- Incessant refreshing of your e-mail inbox
- Heightened alcohol consumption
- Questionable utilization of Craig's List
- Reduced feelings of self worth
- Excessive baby-talking to ones pet cats...or maybe that is just my roommate
- An unusual desire to both cook and consume baked goods

I reserve my right to edit and/or add to this list pending additional time spent engaged in both activities...however, I am pretty sure I get the gist of the end result: more pounds and less sanity.

Metamorphosis : The Life Span of Ex-Boyfriends

Much like insects, ex-boyfriends have a cyclical life span and undergo several notable metamorphoses throughout their typically short-lived lives.

In their larval stage. ex-boyfriends are characteristically underdeveloped and require minimal maintenance. They tend to be sedentary in terms of relationship growth and feed on the female for any growth that does occur in this stage.

The amount of time spent in the larval stage varies greatly, however within several months, ex-boyfriends make an unexpected and often overwhelming metamorphosis into what is technically called their "clingy" stage. Most women, after nursing the creature in the larval stage, are impatiently awaiting this development and some like to refer to the clingy stage with reference to a similar phenomena in nature as the "butterfly" stage.

The creature displays a stark change in disposition after this change takes place. They tend to take heightened interest in both the female and relationship, develop an often smothering reliance of the female for any combination of physical and mental support and experience increasing amounts of both jealousy and a desire to completely overtake the female's life. Markedly different than the larval stage, the female generally retains control during the "butterfly" stage, but the ex-boyfriend still displays occasional flightiness, spontaneous disinterest and, of course, ever present but typically isolated displays of asshole-ism.

Time spent in the "Clingy" or "butterfly" stage varies even more so than time spent in the larval stage. The final chapter in the life of an ex-boyfriend is commonly known as the parasitic stage. Metamorphosis into this final stage can be sparked by any number of events in the life of an ex-boyfriend.

The parasitic stage is distinguished by an end to the relationship. The height of the parasitic phase occurs in the first six months after the closing of the relationship with the female is finalized. The ex-boyfriend voluntarily or involuntarily attaches itself to the life of the female, usually in an obsessive, oppressive or offensive manner. This behavior might involve a physical relocation of it's normal resting place or a restructuring of it's friendships and other outside relationships, focused only on increasing unwanted proximity to the female.

Over an extended period of time, the ex-boyfriend will repress the more distinguishable marks of the parasitic phase, in attempt to attract the original or perhaps other females. However, the parasitic phase is a permanent and final chapter in the lifespan of an ex-boyfriend and though parasitic behaviors may subside, the ex-boyfriend can and will revert back to the height of the parasitic phase with little to no warning.