oh jude
heeeeyjude: idiocy. people with jobs should perform them well
heeeeyjude: or be eliminated
heeeeyjude: do i sound like a nazi?
heeeeyjude: so be it. whatever.
luckyjade3121: ha ha ha
luckyjade3121: that's totally going in my blog.
hurts so good
i actually have work to do. funny thing that. but i still choose to waste my life doing
this. you should too.
check out crazy japanese matrix
ping pong. good stuff.
and then watch
this. holy crap.
thursday?
i know it's not friday but i won't be posting because i'll be leaving on a jet plane. so here's my preemptive shot at sharing my new music digs...
(i'm not choosing a letter because i don't feel like it. i'm gonna do whatever i want to do! gosh!)
don't forget to
say hi to your mom. if your lucky enough to be catching the wrens concert tomorrow at bowery, shtym will be opening the show. if you're a loser stuck in newark like me you can catch them on tuesday when they'll be playing at the mercury lounge (which is like totally my fav venue right now). it's creamy dreamy sleepy and just for rhymes sake, a little weepy too. oh yeah, here you go, you greedy bastards...
dimensions and verticalsthe forest scares the hell out of meyeah i'm in love with an androidi love you but i've chosen darkness, great band name [slash] story of my life. new wave drum beats, unintelligible/nonsensical lyrics, vocals second to guitar, and wait, did i detect a hand clap or seven? yeah, they sound like an interpol/killers hybrid... whatever, great band name.
when you go out
bah!
menomena has the worst website ever (although i think i may have replicated it in my hello world! attempt at php). but the music is good. and that's all the matters, right? (
you say "right")
so to save you from the wrath of their totally f-ed up webmaster...
shirttrigga (live)laddernebaliand now i'm off to the san diego zoo! pandas and rhinos and giraffes, oh my!
prostitution is fun
but making fun of arrested prostitutes is better...
i'm actually not sure how i came to this
site but for your viewing pleasure, i'll share it with you. without further adieu, here is the hooker roundup:
all ms. harper wanted was to be loved. and crack.
falicia fellatio, as the boys always called her. she never let the little things like jail time or chlamydia get her down. she always told her 17 bastard children to keep smiling no matter what.
ashley always loved her t-shirt from urban outfitters that said: "i da ho? no u da ho!" because of the irony. (she really was da ho)
donald was a vietnam vet, a loving husband and a compassionate grandfather. his only fault was his penchant for bad hip hop and prostitutes. it was noted that the cops caught him singing, "she only want me for my pimp juice."
do they do this in every city?
tsssss
i'm sizzling back in california. it's a back-of-the-knee-sweat 100 degrees.
so not going to hawaii has turned into not going to hawaii and cleaning my parent's house, which is the scientifically proven exact opposite of white sand beaches, fruity drinks and surfer boys. the closest thing i got to a welcome vacation was getting "accidentally" soaked by the hose when i washed 4 cars and a dog yesterday under the unforgiving sun. apparently i am jade, the indentured servent.
i thought only new york was stressful. apparently i've taken it home. i need to relax.
a is for
appletini. just kidding, you should know i'm a vodka tonic girl (with extra limes, of course). a is also for a slew of cool new (or new to me) music:
aqueduct is one guy. one guy with a lot of talent and a lot of friends. drum machines, home recordings, and pretty mushy melodies. check it out:
heart designgrowing up with g'n'rpost rock and slightly seasonedarchitecture in helsinki is like having add. in a good way. there are clip downloads off their label's
site.
aloha means everything. but in music it means... ok it's friday and i'm so anticipating going home tomorrow that i have no words. i think they're cool but you can decide for yourself:
all the warssummer awaythere you have it. i'll see you in a week.
i meant to say this earlier
today i caught someone in the middle of an ocd. i walked into the bathroom and this girl took like ten or twenty of those toilet seat covers and then proceeded into the stall. then when she came out she washed her hands up to her elbows. some of you may know that i'm a personal hygeine freak, but this was out of hand. it's odd to watch someone do something that seems completely normal to them yet to anyone else is borderline insane.
so i just came back from going out and i'm very disappointed. now we're watching daily show reruns and chillin out to yo la tengo (who will be playing a free show in battery park with stephen malkmus on july fourth... any takers?).
jeremy's smoking what he claims to be very good pot and coughing a lot. new hotness has all but passed out next to me.
and very well might be possibly a little drunk. oops.
just paying the bills
i work at mtv. it's massive, trendy and predominantly under 35. i was talking with a few other assistants who work here and i asked them what they're looking to do in the future, aka why they voluntarily choose to be a corporate bitch. many of them are artists: writers, actors, singers, dancers, designers... and this dayjob is a medium solely for income. so like i'm supposed to be driven outside of this soulsucking hole?
what's happening?
here's what i get from a dish of e-mails from the california crew:
someone's on steroids
someone's unemployed because of a pregnancy not her own
someone's nazi boss doesn't allow her to e-mail at work
someone's in and out of the hospital
someone's bored as hell
and
someone's m.i.a.
i miss you guys!
today at work... ish
i've updated my ipod, checked my e-mail several times, made plans for the night, taken a vitamin and quelled my subsequent nausea with potato chips, picked up lunch for myself, created recipes for cooking when i get back to california, cursed at my computer for
unexpectedly quitting, read my favorite blogs, swooned over this
dress and these
sandals, watered/coveted my bosses orchids, and now i'm doing this.
i shouldn't complain about my job but i really feel like i'm completely useless around here.
the hen pen
there's a pen (like one big cubicle with a couple desks in it) about 15 feet from my desk whose occupants are 4 girls with long island accents. we call it the hen pen. it's normally among the chattier of areas in my department but today it's getting out of hand. perhaps i'm more easily irratable, given my morning near-bitchslap experience, but i'm sure you would agree with what's going through my head. without getting into incriminating detail, let's just say it involves a lot of duct tape.
sweet home california
i'll be back in socal in approximated 72 hours. i'm so totally psyched. this week has gone by so sloooowly. i can't wait to see my family and bask in the sunshine and drive my car and go to the beach and play with my dog and everything else that one does in constant 70 degree weather. this will be a much needed break from new york.
i got into a little subway stairwell fight this morning. i was going up on the right side (as a line of people were going down to the left of me) and this woman (late 20s/early 30s) walks down right in front of me. she stops 2 steps above me and gives me a look as if i was to move around her. i couldn't (and i shouldn't have had to) so i stared back at her. we held this mexican standoff for what seemed like a minute before i said (in a tone of seething politeness), "i'm sorry, i would move but this is the side i'm supposed to be on." she scoffed and then squeezed by me, intentionally using her ridiculously expensive for a piece of black nylon longchamp bag to smoosh me into the railing. it was all i could do to refrain from kicking her in the head and calling her a stupid wench. i settled with rolling my eyes instead.
i need to get out of here. quick.
my computer is a vindictive bitch
this ghetto department can only afford good computers for the people with good offices who can then ask their good assistants to do everything for them because they are unfamiliar with the good operating systems. which leaves me running mac os 9 - otherwise known as the mesozoaic era.
roughly 2 times a day, my finder will "unexpectedly (and unexplicably) quit." fine. i can live with that. i'm diligent enough to save every couple of minutes (unless i'm blogging, but all i write is crap anyway and crap has this miraculous characteristic of being easily reproduced). the problem lies in the finder's reaction to unexpectedly quitting. it smiles. in my face. it's spiting me and my wasting of office time and money.
i shake my fist at you, finder. grrr.
i hate my job
i quit.
no, i can't. damn these scruples.
two days in a row
the naked guy is back and nakeder than ever.
does he not have anything better to do?
yesterday he was a novelty. today he's just disgusting. ew.
there is a naked guy outside my window
ok more like ugly naked guy.
my office building is adjacent to (ok, it's like rubbing up against) a marriott hotel so we're often privy to the various guest room going-ons. we've seen everything from little kids making faces in the windows to mid-morning porn-quality trysts. usually it's limited to a couple minutes of workplace entertainment but this time it's been at least 4 and a half hours. ugly naked guy has been pacing around his room, perhaps deciding whether or not he should face the world of clothed people. he'll sit on his bed for a while and then get up and walk around, mildly gesticulating as if in conversation with himself, and then sit down again. once or twice he has put on a towel - although i think he used the one that's sized between the hand towel and the bath towel - but he solemnly reverts to nakedness after a couple minutes.
it would be creepy if it weren't so sad and pathetic.
drool
i heart these shoes.
why do you have to go and make things so complicated?
my bff judes has a problem. she thrives on emotional confusion. i think if she was ever completely happy she would cry (but not tears of joy). judes likes issues. and lots of them. all at once. fighting inside her crazy little head.
hey judes, don't make it bad.
ok, enough song references for one post. judes, i wish you whatever makes you happy. truly. have fun in berkeley.
excuse me, there's a monkey on your shoulder
yeah. i know. i call it new york.
a friend of a friend refers to new york as a monkey on his shoulder that occaisionaly beats him over the head. sometimes the monkey will get bored and start beating other people, but always comes back to you.
pretty apt, except my monkey has adhd, a loaded gun and a really sick sense of humor. fun.
s is for
spam sushi. don't knock it til you try it. just like these bands...
something for rockets is a 3 or 4 piece band - sometimes there's a chick. there's a son of itzhak perlman, an ivy league educated powerbook player and a really cute drummer. the sound is melodic, electronic, and otherwise groovetastic. i don't have mp3s but they have one of the best band
websites i've ever seen. and if visual stimulation isn't enough, you can stream the album while you surf.
next up we have
sufjan stevens. he plays the banjo, but not in the dueling way so it's more than tolerable. in fact, it's quite nice. check it out:
casimir pulaski daythe man of metropolis steals our heartsthe secret machines: they're totally in the buzz lately, and for good reason. they have a solid rock sound with mushy guitars, dancy beats and sweet yet sullen melodies. sound familiar? (see: every other band out there)
nowhere againnow i really want some spam sushi.
yum
come with me and get a frosty from wendy's. they're free starting today through sunday. mmm... frosty and fries.
labels
everyone has a metaphorical label. some people can be: "may cause drowsiness" or "slippery when wet" or "danger: hazardous materials" even the plain and simple "stop." mine is: "best kept in the dark." i don't mind not knowing what's going on at all times (i'm self-aware enough). it's not that i subscribe to the "ignorance is bliss" philosophy, i just think that if it doesn't really pertain to me, i don't need to know. in effect, suspense never really kills me. actually i like when things go unspoken or unnoticed as long as there's a mutual understanding... or at least a mutual assumption of mutual understanding.
so when a co-worker tells me that she and a bunch of other co-workers are going to an event tonight that she didn't tell me about because she didn't think that i would want to go (given the circumstances that i have houseguests), i had nothing to say to her. what was i supposed to say? i said, "ok." then she insisted on explaining herself. a lot. to which i said, "ok." nope, not awkward at all.
i should carry around a sign.
boss-sitting
sucks.
my bosses have left for the day. julia's boss (the evp) is still here yet julia is not. therefore, i am boss-sitting. it is 70 degrees and sunny and i am stuck in the office boss-sitting. i want to scream.
i could be sitting on my roof for the last 2 hours of sunlight. i could be lying in the park or reading a book. i could be shopping. i could be showing stacy and alex around the city before they leave for california tomorrow. i could be dancing around in my apartment with judy (or even sitting and doing nothing because that's what we always do). i could be spinning. i could be walking home and exploring new avenues. i could be taking a nap.
but alas, i am boss-sitting.
this is a nightmare.
quitters who win
sarcastic dan quit his job today. good for him. he too was a department bitch-- uh, assistant, but on the copywriting side. he's going to work for the other devil: newscorp. at least there he won't be doing other people's shit work. i'm sad that he's leaving though. he was a master of wit and other dry humor, bringing light to this otherwise fun foresaken place.
boo on you sarcastic dan. i hope you have fun at your new job writing about sensational social excrement. i hope you sleep well knowing that you're contributing to the public's misconception of the state of the world. fine. i'll admit that i'm just hating on you because i'm jealous. jealous of you leaving, jealous of your real job title, and jealous of your new business cards that will have your real job title printed on it. damn you sarcastic dan.
but seriously, good luck with everything.
keep in touch.
celadony
this is what random website clicking gets you:
céladonie
"je vais plaider la plus ridicule des causes; il n'existe rien de plus bafoué en civilisation que l'amour sentimental."
"i will plead the most ridiculous of all causes; nothing is more flouted in civilization than sentimental love."
charles fourier,
le nouveau monde amoureux.
the sublime passion that makes humans feel like gods, seemingly useless and irrational, mysterious and uncontrollable, always surging despite repression, the longing of both the rich and the poor... what are its degrees? how can it be achieved? here are its possible developments, ranked by increasing efficiency:
* simple celadony: one purely spiritual relation;
* composite celadony: one compound relation (both physical and spiritual);
* bimodal celadony: one spiritual relation and one compound relation;
* multimodal celadony: one spiritual relation and several compound relations.
angelic couples (who do not give themselves to each other until they have satisfied dozens of other suitors) lead multimodal celadony to its most glorious heights, providing love's public service.
(there's much more, check out the site)
attractions are proportional to essential destinies
so... from my elementary understanding of this rather convoluted concept, this guy fourier has equated love to fate.
thoughts?
mission statement
i'll officially be a 2nd year new yorker come june 1st but i'm totally lacking in real new yorker knowledge. yeah, i know it's because i work too much but i'm sure you know that it's not easy without any green. so here are my cultural missions for this summer:
1. find the best mac n cheese (for jude)
2. find the best byo
3. find the best independent record store
4. find an unfallible bar/club/lounge/scene
5. meet people in the food/nightlife business
6. find the best spot in central park
7. go to more museums
8. go to the bronx zoo
9. go to the beach. any beach.
10. take more pictures. write stuff down.
now your mission is to make me do all of this.
for you and i are past our dancing days
i love gay dan and leeanniepoo. they make me smile at work. reading their
blog is like shopping for new shoes while wearing new shoes. sorry i outed you guys. it had to be done. entertainment like this should be available to the public.
poopie: pilot is hot and radioshack is gay. break up with khyber and ask pilot to move to philly. then have him fly you (and your friends) around the world. i'll quit my job. and win the lottery. it'll be great.
good luck with apartment hunting gay dan. just remember, leave room for cock/tails. bwahahahaha.
false alarm, hyperventilate anyway
the emergency alarm went off in our building today. then security came over the loudspeaker saying, "there is a police investi-... uh... there is a problem... uh... there is... the high rise and low rise elevators are suspended due to... uh... a situation on the 36th floor..." meanwhile in the background you can hear people shouting, sirens are going outside the building, and i could have sworn someone said, "oh jesus." yes. don't panic indeed.
everyone's pretty nonchalant about the whole thing so i was too until somebody asked me if i had on comfortable shoes. why? because i may have to run down 30 flights of stairs. now i'm freaking out a little. if you saw me when my house burned down you would understand that i'm a little melodramatic when it comes to destruction and melee.
but then it was just a false alarm.
worst. night. out. ever.
sweet jesus that was bad. i'm home at 115am on a sat night (sun morn for you picky folks). just came back from central bar on the corner of 9th and damnation. apparently it was amateur night. and by amateur, i mean short. and ugly. and disgustingly drunk. the scene was a bunch of meathead fratboys and other pathetic little boys looking to score with the equally as degenerate low-cut tanktop flat-ironed girls. the stench of desperation was overwhelming. color me superficial, but i'm sure you would have thought the same. we probably stayed there for about an hour, and that was being generous. i was there for a friend of a friend's birthday and no offense to him because he's apparently a very nice guy, but that place was a trash heap of social rejects. so, moral of the story... ew.
to sleep, perchance to dream... of something better. anything. really, anything.
update
the banana had been thoroughly mangled. poor banana.
r.i.p. in my stinky garbage can.
subconscious reads: i need a man.
guh. [sigh, back of hand to forehead, southern belle-esque]
pervetastic
that's me.
i brought a banana to work for breakfast but then a co-worker gave me a bacon egg and cheese on croissant, which was totally orgasmic. so then i was going to eat the banana with my lunch but then i had a really filling orange instead. the banana was then deemed afternoon snack, but i was handed a freshly baked cinnamon roll - and to refuse that would be a sin. so now i'm staring at this banana on my desk, slightly browned from the day's hardships, and all i want to do is squish it inside its skin. i'm dirrrrrty.
d is for...
death to all who don't read my blog.
d is also for disconcerting disillusionment.
and yes, this edition of new music friday is brought to you by the letter d.
oye!
this is
diamond nights. four guys. sloppy hair. that's all you need to know. just listen.
destination diamondsif you're in nyc, check out their release party next tuesday at the merc lounge. i may not go but that's because i'm a big loser who works too much.
damien jurado. perhaps you've heard of him. he's on subpop so you know how that goes. just don't confuse him with damien rice.
paper wingspricestexas to ohiook so it's only 2 bands this time. hey, i gave you 4 songs! so shut it.
sorry about the rage, i'm in the office and my bosses aren't here but i still can't leave until 6:30. yeah, you would be pissed too.
ok fine. also check out
the decemberists and the band made popular by the fictional love of my otherwise pathetic life [seth cohen],
death cab for cutie. but you're cool so you probably already know them too. why even bother?
yes... wait, what?
the other night was the upfront afterparty, which is basically like a holiday party in may, except replace half the company with ad execs and media buyers from all over manhattan, but keep the open bar. this is my night: 8pm, arrival. damn i'm starving. food line is too long... vodka tonic it is. mingle with co-workers aka pretend to listen to them while scoping out the suited suitors. because i normally work in a casual environment (jeans, t-shirt, flip flops), seeing men in suits really does it for me... uh, i digress. right, so "congratulations on the upfront" "are you enjoying yourself?" "mumble mumble (inaudible) mumble." at this point the music is so loud i can no longer hear what anyone's saying. so i nod. smile. laugh, but just a little. vodka tonic. ooh, sushi! more completely meaningless small talk. man, this is annoying. "bathroom... be right back." run into girls i know. "hey" "how are you" "haven't seen you in a long time" "we should totally get together sometime" "yeah, definitely" yeah, she was drunk.
10pm, i think. vodka tonic. people are dancing now. i find people i know. they're already going crazy. that new gwen stefani song that i love/hate/love is on. intern's totally grinding on me. uh, he's only 21... gotta go to the bar. vodka tonic. make eye contact with cute pinstripe suited suitor. he smiles. he talks! "did you go to penn?" "yes! how did you... do i know... wait, what?" he repeats "do you have a pen?" writing in the air with imaginary wanted pen. "yeah, ok, yeah... uh, lemme get it" dig into my purse (i know i don't have one, but dig around anyway). "oh shoot, sorry. i thought i did... uh, i have lip gloss?" (note to self: you're not funny). smile sheepishly. offer my new dior gloss that smells like caramel apples. yeah, uh huh, he doesn't care. blank stare... vodka tonic! vodka tonic! "well, good luck with the, uh, pen thing..." turn around, don't look back, find nearest hole, crawl in. (and another vodka tonic)
overall, a good night of alcoholism. yessss... wait... nevermind.
crazy
over the past week, i've fallen into the not going to the gym rut. it's become a daily recurrence: i wake up at 7 only to hit snooze 4 times and decide at 7:36 that it's now too late to go. then i sleep until 8:30, do nothing until 9, then frantically figure out what to wear for 15 minutes and curse myself for being late to work. i hate being late. my mom is always late. i hate that.
i'm definitely going crazy. i think i should take up drinking... uh, more.
moredom boredom
virtual
bubblewrap. and
lite brite.
totally awesome.
also try your steady hand at
this.
mr. miyagi would be proud.
contents of this post are courtesy of the one and only
chelseagirl.
