I have never been lonely, cause me is so cool
I have never been clever, because need it never!
Flannel Shirts
The hipster will soon be dead, I am sure of it.
Has it not been far too long already? Have we not grown tired of the same scrawny bodies in skinny jeans or leggings, ballerina flats; blacks and grays and browns, keffiyahs and Ray-Ban glasses; flannel?
I tried on my first flannel shirt yesterday at American Apparel. It looked outmoded, lame, a fatigued blast from the past. It would sit in my closet for nary a week before I would decide never to wear it again. I looked around the store–the apathetic sales people, the cheap, flimsy basics, and wondered how an image has survived this long selling the same style. And with this in mind–how has the hipster survived for almost a decade without having to re-invent a thing? Don’t you grow disgusted, touting the same lifestyle sans progress? Hipsterdom has lagged into a comatose state. Can somebody please pull the plug?
White Truffle
The white truffle is in New York, and I want to eat it. Because I am unemployed, I have a combination of a) very little money and b) an influx of time. To hell with the Four Season’s $400 truffle dinners! I’m preparing it myself, country livin’ style.
However, since the white truffle costs $2500 a pound and I require only about a quarter of an ounce on hand-cut pappardelle to be happy, I decided to ask some friends of a more gastronomic persuasion if they’d want to split one with me. (If divided by 3 people, a truffle will cost only about $40 per person.)
The first went on a tirade about the recession, ending with, “I am not buying a mother-f****ing truffle.”
The second began bemoaning impending deadlines for essays (grad school).
The third (a culinary-inclined friend who has texted me in the past asking if I want to eat an artichoke) simply replied, “YES.”
Third time’s the charm. We go truffle hunting this week.
I wish I had a truffle hog.
Robber Eats Evidence
I heard robbery rates have increased due to the economy… I might be okay with that if we get videos like this. Note the smirk–now that, my friends, is satisfying.
Terrible Names by Stupid Parents
While trying to find the perfect name for a character in one of my stories, I stumbled upon “Baby’s Named a Bad, Bad Thing: A Primer on Parental Cruelty.”
Judging from some of these, the problem isn’t so much cruelty, but stupidity. Below are some of my favorite questions and responses (note: hers, not mine).
I originally planned on naming my boy Dakota Lee, but my nephew had a baby boy two years ago and named him that.. Now I can not find a boys name. I like Dakota… but have thought about Dacoda.. since I want to use the shortened form Cody…
Well then, go ahead. There’s nothing like going through life with everyone thinking your parents are totally illiterate yuppies who think owning Dances with Wolves on DVD makes them in touch with Native Americans, until one day your kids snaps and runs over your latte drinkin’ , People magazine readin’ ass with your own SUV. Or you could just name him “Cody” like you want to and save yourself from having to explain to the school principal how Cody happened to obtain the .45 that was found in his backpack.
I am having this baby boy on Aug 6. Dad and I love Alexander Scott but our last name is Smith. Will the initals be a huge problem? We don’t want him to be teased.
That’s OK. Kids are pretty uncreative when it comes to teasing. They’ll never eventually spot that one.
I was wondering which name you would pick out of these choices for girl
Names?????
Abbey Monet
Chloe monet
Irelynd monet
Dilyn monet
And here it is again. There’s nothing wrong with giving kids Irish names except they sound like fringe characters from “Mists of Avalon.” But it’s another thing to name your kid Ireland. That’s a political statement (you don’t see a lot of Arab kids named Israel, for example.) But if there’s one thing you don’t want to do, it’s piss off the Oirish by misspelling the name of their damn country. That’ll get your ass handed to you faster than asking, “What’s so wrong with Thatcher?”
And Dilyn…In the time it would take to come up with every way that could be mispronounced, I could find the end of Pi.
One of our “requirements” for a name is that the first and middle initials will sound nice together to make a nickname. I grew up as Brandy to some and BJ to others ….quick and easy nickname that kids may not make as much fun of.
For 15 years poor Brandy never understood why everyone snickered after calling her by her nickname. Or why all those football players asked her to prom. They were so rough in the back of the limo.
Guess they thought she was a different kind of girl.
what about Jackie-O for a girl or Sinead?
Tough call. It all hinges on what hairdo you were planning.
My daughter has polosistic overies and tried for eight years to have a baby. she had invetro done twice and was artificially inseminated several times. Nothing worked after spending thousands of dollars. She stopped all the fertility treatments after eight years and three months later she was pregnant.Her grandfathers name was Jesse and her husbands name is Jesse. Her dads name is John and her only brothers name is Derek. After this miracle happened she wanted to name her son after the most important men in her life so June 25th she turned 32 and June 26th she gave birth to a 9lb5oz “Jesse Jon-Derek [last name]“. Um…was there a reason for telling us this?
Trannies in the workplace
I quit my second unpaid internship (in media) to take on another unpaid internship at a fashion magazine. Yesterday, at the magazine, we spent the day cleaning out their highly-disorganized fashion/beauty closet. The day before, I was moving 40 pound boxes up and down an elevator.
When I have free time, I get to spend it styling outfits on Polyvore, a styling site/platform. Here’s the second outfit I designed, which I’m quite happy about:
An outfit I created for someone like myself (but employed) to wear on weekends.
At one point, we started talking about Lindsay Lohan, and I said, “She looks like a tranny.” Everyone basically pretended not to hear this. I only realized the next day that one of the fashion assistants–an effeminate-looking young man–is actually a tranny in his ‘off time,’ and that’s why all of the larger-sized women’s shoes in the closet have been scuffed up. Oops. Was that offensive?
In related news, our boss, the Fashion Director, got fired last week. It’s now just us interns and the two pro bono fashion assistants. I’m not sure what this means, but it could be good. Or awful.
Needless to say, I did not get an offer from the ‘despicable’ hedge fund alluded to below. This firm (located in Westport, CT) is notorious for their bizarre, cult-like culture. They said I wasn’t a “culture fit,” which makes me somewhat happy because the people seemed like social misfits.
Vogue (+), Hedge Fund (-)
I had an interview with Vogue yesterday. Grace Coddington passed me in the lobby wearing a face like a statue. The week before, Anna Wintour had waited for an elevator with me. Since Lloyd Blankfein never grazes past when I’m at GS, I feel that this is a sign. I was told that I would be notified during the first week of December, as my interviewer will be meeting candidates the rest of the month.
But for today’s news… I am finally at home after a grueling 3 hours of the worst interviews in the world with the most despicable company ever.
First, I don’t really want to do finance, but I’m still not over the fact that $60k may be better than having a sweet internship at an edgy fashion/lifestyle magazine earning zayro. Also, it’s not out of the question that I’ll accept an offer, work for almost a year, and go to grad school next fall. Anyway. NOTHING about this job sounds remotely interesting to me. It’s basically the most boring, mundane, aggravating tasks ever–looking at numbers, processing shit, figuring out ‘problems,’ &c. According to my personality tests, I’m a Creator. Hedge fund analyst crap is not conducive to creativity.
The interviews themselves were extremely painful, and all 3 were recorded. One was clearly designed as a stress test–where the interviewer asked me questions that were extremely rude and inappropriate (and stated in an icy cold manner), designed to weed out people who might flip their shit. However, instead punching someone or crying or running out of the room, I did nothing and just sat there answering questions and getting humiliated. I’m actually hoping that they don’t ask me back for final round interviews.
In unrelated, uplifting news, my writing instructor loves my novel and another student in the class wants to quote a passage of mine. Seriously. Like, in her Facebook profile under “Favorite Quotations.”
Most Depressing “Diary” Ever
Thanks to “Jenna” for sending me this, from NY Mag. O, the consequences of unemployment!
1 a.m. With friends at Marquee, where I catch the eye of a handsome boy in an Hermès tie and immediately start eye-B.J.-ing him. He is a 28-year-old M.D. who graduated from Yale. He buys me SoCo-lime shots and I tell him that 28 years old is too young to be an M.D. He responds that he’s just that good.
4 a.m. He asks me to come back to his place and I’m skeptical, but he says he lives on Park Avenue with his older brothers. He has me at “Park Avenue.”
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Illustration by Quickhoney
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5:30 a.m. Sitting in his penthouse apartment, he opens a bottle of Dom and we watch South Park—that should have been the first sign. We pass out in his room. I think we hook up.
DAY THREE
8 a.m. He freaks out and asks me to leave. When I get home, I look him up on Facebook and see that he graduated HIGH SCHOOL in 2009. He is 17 YEARS OLD and it was his parents’ penthouse.
A new job posting on Craigslist
Need help to shampoo kittens with scabies (Chelsea)
Date: 2009-11-12, 11:22PM EST
Reply to: gigs-meued-1463541915@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
I’m a new pet owner of 2 beautiful kittens. I am quite sure that my kittens have feline scabies or Notoedres cati. I will be taking the cats to the vet for shots because they are too young to have the Lymdip treatment. Meanwhile, I am looking for someone to help shampoo my kittens. I have tried to bathe the cats myself, and it is impossible.
Please drop me a note about your experience, availability and rates.
I could have been Mrs…
I’ve just recently discovered a young man whose advances I rejected several years back (on the basis of his poor choice in footwear and inability to wear a properly fitting suit) was a Hobey Baker finalist. Meaning, he’s probably going into the NHL, if not there already.
Neither of these hooligans.
Also, I was told by a novelist this weekend that I should have met J****** E********, a Pulitzer Prize winning writer, because a) I was definitely his type, and b) he would have hit on me. A quick Wikipedia search indicated that he was already married. See? Always too late.
The Hobo Bobo 