100TH POST OMG

I am thrilled by the massive backlash against Facebook and their new "news feed." I think they introduced it on Tuesday, and by yesterday, there were almost 300,000 people who had signed a petition to get rid of it. 300,000 people! This is what gets the youth of America pissed off--Facebook making internet stalking just a little less complicated. Apparently, according to the "Open Letter from Mark Zuckerberg" that's the top story on my fucking newsfeed, they've been coding for two days straight to give people privacy controls they should've provided in the first place. Personally, I've given up on Facebook and sold my soul to MySpace. Fucking MySpace. My hatred of it knows no bounds, yet I've given up pretending that I'll be able to quit.

Social networking sites are the devil. Blogs are the devil. The internet steals my free time and leaves me with nothing to show for it but the money I earned at my summer job, that glorious time when I got paid to work for the internets.

None of this makes sense, I know, but I'm tired and dreading the 10 hour shift I agreed to work tomorrow. Far too long to spend in a computer lab, but it should pay for most of my trip to Montreal (as long as I spend money on nothing but beer and beer) and also hopefully it will allow me time to finish my Teach for America application and maybe do some research for either of the two research jobs I went to so much effort to obtain.

And stuff. I'm so damn tired.

new and not yet improved

I switched to the beta version of Blogger. Can you tell the difference? No you can't, you dirty liar, I haven't actually changed the layout or anything.

I'm house sitting for a week starting today, which means my commute is now twice as long. Hooray! On the plus side, there's a combination washer-dryer in the basement (it washes and then dries, all in the same machine!) so I'm totally going to do all of my laundry this weekend. Exciting!

And I have... nothing else of interest to say. If you're reading this, and I know there are at least three or four of you, please for the love of god leave a comment with some costume ideas. I've got nothing, and Halloween is fast approaching.

boring boring boring

last weekend: partied with rock stars, canadians

this weekend: slept until noon, watched dvds in my pajamas.

next weekend: strippers and coke


[joke on TV involving Reggie White sending someone flowers]
kira: maybe it was him, it's not like he has anything else to do.
marina: ...he's dead. ASS.


sorry god so boring will be better next time but spent entire weekend asleep

my cat's breath smells like cat food

I have a deep and abiding love for Margaret Atwood. If Russ Feingold is my imaginary boyfriend, Margaret Atwood is my imaginary... aunt? Great aunt? Whatever, I love her. Also, I don't want to shock anyone, but I'm going to let everyone in on a little secret--Italo Calvino is pretty amazing. I mean, I know I'm a little ahead of the curve on this one, maybe you haven't heard his name yet or anything, he's only been dead for a decade or so, but I'm going to go out on a limb and tell you to read If on a winter's road a traveler. There's at least a 50/50 chance you'll be glad you did.

Today, I just need to make it through work, and then at 4pm? At 4pm, work ends and the Packers game begins. I will walk to the Packers bar on Sheriden Square, I will order myself a beer, and I will watch the Packers play... whoever. I need to catch up on an entire year of football quick, because the draft for my fantasy football league is... sometime this weekend. Someone tell me who to draft, please. I'm tired of losing! This is my year to win the trophy!

My aunt will be here in two weeks, and then after that, it's only another six weeks or so until I go to Montreal, and then another three weeks before I go home for Thanksgiving. Awesome.

rough draft

While I was home a few weeks ago, I recieved a letter from NYU. Apparently, they would like me to contribute to the Alumni Fund.

What's that you say? Didn't I just graduate THREE MONTHS AGO? Didn't I just finish paying them more money than I'll ever actually have at one time in my entire life, most of it financed through loans so I haven't even actually paid anyone yet? The answer to those questions is yes.

My response, with relevant spaces left blank so I can use it for the next twenty or thirty years.

Dear President ______________,

Thank you for your letter requesting $________. Unfortunately, I will not be able to donate at this time. It has been ____ years since I graduated. I currently make $_____ a year, and I still owe $___________ on my student loans. When I pay off my loans in ____ years, including the $__________________ of interest that will have accumulated, I probably won't give you any money, but I'll certainly put some thought into it.

Sincerely,
marina


I just ate a gargantuan lunch at a vegetarian place near campus, and now I really want to take a nap.

Everything is not as it seems.

[marina opens 40 of olde english, takes a drink]
marina: Oh, that's good.
marina: ...what did I just say?
kira: Yeah... I don't know.

i love my lip ring

First, for those of you who read this via livejournal, if you comment through livejournal, it doesn't show up here, as I learned when Jeb commented last week. You could comment here if you want, but I'll try to check the livejournal page so you won't have to go to all that trouble. (Jeb.)

Second, I don't actually have anything else to say. Uh... I got a temp employee ID card today, and I think with this final proof that I'm no longer a student, I died a little inside. On the plus side, my hair in my student ID card is super short and in this new card it's super long, so I'll have visual aids next time I need to decide whether I should cut my hair.

Third... I'm going to a Halloween party in Montreal, so does anyone have any good costume suggestions? If I'm going to ride a bus for, like, a million hours just for a party, I better have a damn good costume.

i still miss the saturn cafe

bold signs, saturn cafe.
Originally uploaded by marinatina.

Maybe because I'm sick of New York. Boo hoo, poor me, I know. I'll try to contain myself.

Today is the first day of orientation at NYU, which fills me with feelings of... hate for NYU freshman, mostly.


[overheard in the LC level of Tisch Hall]
"Where do you live?!"
"Weinstein!!"
"Omg I live in Weinstein!!!"
"I live in the South Tower!!!!"
"I live in the North Tower!!!!"
"Omg is that room LC-5?!?!"

Whatever. I want to go to grad school somewhere that doesn't have undergrads, or keeps them segregated in basements or cramped dorms or anywhere that I'm not.

good story?

So as I was saying yesterday, I went out drinking with Dear Astronaut on Thursday. And Friday, but that's a story for another day. At one point, I was sitting on the bench on the patio. Dear Astronaut's drummer was sitting on one side of me; some dude was sitting on the other side. The Dude kept talking to me, which I apparently found highly offensive, as I was mean to him, or so I hear. The bar was across the street from an adult video store, and I definitely told him to go over there and shove a VHS tape up his ass. At the time I thought I was being funny, and I'm pretty sure he mentioned the porn store first, but after he finally left the bench, Scott started laughing and told me I had been really mean.

I think for awhile he was flirting with me, and actually, maybe that's why I was being mean. I don't really know how to react to flirting. Anyway, so I was sitting there, probably making fun of him or something, and suddenly he's like "Eeew! Your arm hair is touching me!" to which I responded by asking him what the fuck was wrong with him. Then he started trying to demonstrate how gross it was by touching my arm with his, which, (a) I didn't notice I was touching his fucking arm hair in the first place so why would I suddenly notice or care and (b) the whole thing seemed like a really weird excuse to touch my arm and (c) that guy was dumb.

Oh! I remember why I didn't like him. Earlier, he started a conversation with Scott about some obscure Rolling Stone article about Bob Dylan that everyone but him had misunderstood. Apparently he's such a huge Dylan fan that people at work are constantly challenging him about Dylan and this article (something about vinyl vs. digital) and the whole thing was so stupid and pretentious that it made me want to vomit all over his face. So that's probably why I was so mean to him the second time we ended up sitting next to him. That actually makes me feel better, because the whole "walk across the street and shove things up your ass" conversation makes sense. To me, at least.

I was telling my mom this story, because I like to tell my mom innappropriate stories about getting drunk and being mean to boys who hit on me. When I got to part where I wanted to vomit all over his face because he was "such a huge dylan fan omg and he's totally being persecuted," I told her that I was thinking "you fucking douchebag, my parents are huge Dylan fans, you are a prematurely balding 26 year old loser who's only seen Dylan in concert ONCE so fuck off ASS," and she was shocked and upset that I was so mean (not so much by the swearing because I think she's given up hope that I'll stop cursing). When I told her that I didn't actually tell him that, I only thought it, she was totally okay with it and actually laughed. And that is one more reason my mom is awesome.

So anyway, the moral of the story is, I think this could be a good story, but it isn't quite there yet. Maybe it needs more swears.

and the hits just keep on coming

In no particular order, stories from this past weekend.

So. Highlight of the weekend by far--my cousin Jeb and his band played a show in Brooklyn on Thursday. I haven't seen Jeb in two years, aside from a random one hour layover when I drove to Wisconsin with Sonia last year, so I was selfishly excited that he decided to tour and set up a show in New York. We never talk as much as we should, but he's one of my favorite people. He's also a damn fine musician. I hung out with Jeb and his band outside the venue for awhile before the show. Pink Reason played first, then Dear Astronaut, and both bands were awesome. Also awesome were the two girls who were dry humping on the floor in front of me. Wait, that wasn't awesome at all.

After the show, I went out drinking with him and his band and some people they know in New York. I was determined to go home right after the show because the L stopped at midnight and I had to work at 8am the next morning. That didn't last long, but I decided that I would definitely leave after one drink, which turned into leaving by 11pm, which turned into 11:15 when we moved to the second bar, which turned into me sleeping on the kitchen floor of Jeb's friend's apartment in Bushwick. I really believed I would make it home that night, but I don't think anyone else did.

Barcade was disappointing (more bar than arcade) but the second bar we went too had skeeball and cheap beer and free beer if you scored over 300 at skeeball. I was really, really terrible at playing but very good at coaching . The bar (I wish I could remember the name) had an awesome patio area where you could drink and smoke (although obviously I did not smoke cigarettes as I quit, I swear). I seem to recall spending a lot of time on the patio, but I had a lot of beer and no dinner, so the whole night is kind of blurry.

(Before I forget, everyone check out gregnog.com. I told Greg I'd read his comics if he gave me a cigarette (Mom, I'm totally kidding, I didn't start smoking again), which was mean of me because I was going to check it out anyway. Luckily, it's really good. "I Am A Host at The Olive Garden" is my favorite.)

Dear Astronaut left Saturday afternoon to drive to their next show in Maine. I fell asleep almost immediately as I got about four hours of sleep between Thursday and Saturday. I managed to wake up at 10pm so I could meet up with my Canadian friends. I was basically half asleep the entire time, but I had fun like I always do. It took two hours to get home because the L wasn't running and apparently the shuttle bus wasn't running either. I made it to work on time, so I guess that's all that matters.

In other news, I'm in a shit mood and can't escape the feeling that this is all boring and poorly-written drivel. I feel like a mess lately and like a bad friend. I missed my friend's housewarming party and didn't contact her to explain, and I totally forgot to get in touch with another friend I was supposed to see this weekend. I'm sick of living in New York, but I don't see a way out for awhile. I really need to be accepted into Teach for America so I'll have an easy way to move to Chicago. I need to get more sleep, I think, because I have to believe that my bad mood is based on sleep deprivation and not a return to other, stupider times. I don't like the way things are right now, and I want to pretend that a good night's sleep will make them better. God, I'm so fucking emo sometimes. Someone please punch me in the face.