Photo Gems

Starry Night, anyone? This is someone's hair.

Yes. What you are looking at is a poster hung in my office building. And another yes, what you see displayed here are used condoms and cigarettes. My boss demanded it get taken down (so our customers aren't scared off), and now it hangs proudly in my cubicle. I hope the doorman was the culprit.

Life Unexpected

Today I was inspired to write a blog by a complete stranger. The biddiewatch hiatus might be coming to an end!

I'm currently on the Bolt Bus to NYCitay to spend New Year's and an indefinite amount of time after that (insert standard doubts of returning to college from the best place on earth here). I came very close to not making it on the bus after a coffee date with Tracey and her wonderful asian friend, JP. Being asian is a key point.

They escorted me to the bus at Union Station in DC, and left me to stand in line in Bolt to NY...which I was. I would have stood in that line a WHILE because it wasn't for the bus I needed to get, which left about 1 minute after I got on it.

Seeing as how I was the last to get on board, there weren't really any seats left...except for one next to a cute boy my age, so naturally I asked if I could sit down. He politely moved his strategically placed "don't-sit-here" backpack in the spare seat, and I put my stuff down.

He had headphones in, and I was on the phone, so we are awkwardly ignoring each other. Until the bus driver started saying some words, and I made a joke about how the website told us we were being dropped off at a Sbarro ("the best pizza joint in NY", to quote my friend Brian). He introduced himself! Phew, we are on speaking terms.

As luck would have it, my new friend and coincidental seatmate is a Music Theater major at Elon, where I was a cointoss away from being a student. We start nerding out about music, Tituss Birgus, Miranda Sings, shows in NY, and Florence and the Machine.

Not only that, but he is friends with multiple people in my life, including Connor Smith (shout out)! Now we are FB friends so the world can know our love story. He himself wrote a blog about the small world we live in, so I decided to give my take :)

See his blog here!

Meanwhile, the guy across from us is writing in a spiral bound notebook about fairy zebras in a pumpkin patch with rhyming names...welcome to the city-to-city transport system.

Phrases That Never Quite Made It

"Your face is like music to my eyes."

"That guy's motorcycle is so badbutt!"

"Just joshin' ya."

Kinney For President

Well, after the most boring 6 weeks of my entire existence, I finally have something to say.

Vote for me.

(Actual sign seen in Georgia by my mother)

My platform:

- Shoes

- Pro-humans

- Pro-plants

- Pro-animals

- Peace and other things, like, such as

- Everything for free!

Campaign slogan:

"When the tough get going, I'm gonna need GPS on my phone to follow them."

Family Bonding

Nothing says "functional family" like buying hot dogs in bulk at the Costco cafeteria and then eating them on a display table in the furniture section next to the massive cartons of spring water. They even bothered to get shopping carts to pose as valuable customers.

"This is almost like having a real dining room, Mommy!"

Also featuring my hair.

TINO

And now huggies brings us jeans, encouraging pedophiles everywhere to disregard boundaries. Note that they are for a limited time only.

What My Brain Tells Me

The dreams I have when I go to bed at 5 in the morning, after a night of whiskey, vodka...and pickle juice.

The dream began with me still at the bar. Naturally, the bar was pretty empty considering bars close an hour before this dream began. My roommate "forced" me to drink whiskey. A lot of whiskey. In the basement of the bar, there was this weird bed that was actually a shower. Lots of old women were around, and I was wearing cowboy boots which I ruined in the weird bed shower. Oddly, the basement led outside where a wedding was taking place. I commented on how weird this was to a woman standing next to me who had a young daughter. Everyone was dressed like it was the colonial times, and the wedding party wore black hipster clothes with navy blue accessories. (Sarah Smith, what are your thoughts on this being bridesmaid attire?). ALL OF A SUDDEN I was transported to a concert. Felicia was there, and we were both super pissed that Eminem wasn't performing at this concert, even though he wasn't supposed to. In the distance, we could see real dinosaurs that were inflatable. On my way out of the concert, I saw another young girl/mom duo. Maybe it was the same one. We discussed Clifford the dog, and then he immediately ran by at lightning speed behind the little girl's back. I chose not to tell her that she had just missed the most important moment of her life.

It must have been the pickle juice.

The Truth

The meaning of this blog is completely embodied in this one photograph. Notice the tanline, and the ass cheeks literally hanging out. God, I love New York!

Skeletor!!! I have the sudden urge to start wearing sunscreen.

Lazy Friday

A few things to get off my chest:

What is pasta salad other than just regular pasta that your mom left in the fridge overnight?

Yesterday I ate a meal at Dave & Buster's but I didn't play any games. I live in a city with a street called Restaurant Row.

I have now watched the Goblet of Fire three times. Today.

I'm about to enter my senior year and I've only had ONE hot professor. This hardly seems fair. But oh, Professor Lawler...I liked your lemur tattoo.

What is a Wayans Brother?

Movies I haven't seen:

1. Star Wars: Return of the Jedi

2. The Godfather

3. Fight Club

4. Top Gun

5. All Indiana Jones films

6. Bridget Jones' Diary

7. The Sixth Sense

8. Jaws

9. Austin Powers

10. Terminator movies

Movies I have seen:

1. All Disney/Pixar creations except G-Force (what WAS that?!)

...in 2D of course.

Shiny Happy People

The people in New York are like no other people on Earth. In that they are solid gold nuggets of bizarre comedy.

A few recent sightings:

FORGET wolf shirts if there are dragon shirts to be had!!!

This woman is 30 and in a relationship and has no children...but is wearing that backpack. No wonder that man is comforting her.

Same purse. Same dress. Same hair. Same shoes. SAME STOCKINGS. Two completely different sized people.

Truer words have never been printed on a crew-neck. Somebody gonna get pregnant.

Do Your Chain Hang Low

Let me spin you a saga.

Once upon a time, I lived with three goth strangers. I made this decision after many celebratory day drinks, and didn't even check to see where the bathroom was. The goths were scary and didn't know how to clean anything. They ate expired food and wore ripped clothes. They had many pets. I locked my door for two weeks and then I moved out and left behind a napkin note.

"Thanks for sharing your home with me!"

Home is a very loose term for scary warehouse cave futon place.

Then I moved in with the good Shannon, who I love and adore. Here I learned a few things:

a. Polish people are insane.

b. Always read your lease.

c. Do not let old people hear you cursing. Because they have supersonic hearing.

Let me briefly elaborate on this mini-epoc. Not reading a lease will 100% guarantee that you don't know the rules of your apartment. In this case, AC units were apparently illegal without written permission. After a full day of the AC unit leaking and causing ceiling damage in the apartment below unbeknownst to us, our landlady came a-knocking and a-screaming. A heinous bitch, one might say. After 10 minutes of ignoring her broken english and absurd claims, she left. Shannon was civil toward her, and I refused to deal with her bullshit. When she closed the door to leave, I dropped the F-Bomb. In the privacy of my own home, mind you. She stormed back in and told us we had 30 days to get out. She even brought her husband to back her up. He stood 5 feet back and nodded. He spoke absolutely no English. I have a great impression of her if you ever meet me in person.

As we all know, you cannot get evicted for being rude. However, you can get evicted for breaking your lease.

So Shannon found a new place while I was at work. Our movers were two absurd black guys who blasted rap music wherever they went. We paid them under the table, and one of them gave me his demo. He also did a live demonstration to which i tried to do gangster dancing. Shannon finding this place without me there was convenient because I didn't have to do anything, but also a bad idea because I discovered after moving in that it took me an hour and 40 minutes to get to work. Not exactly a New York minute. Also, the landlady was another Polish freak who spied on all of her tenants and sat on the stoop for twelve hours a day to see everyone and everything. The last straw was when she let herself into the apartment unannounced with a phone repair guy. I was only wearing a towel and she made me move furniture around. So I clearly and sadly had to move out into the world as a lone wolf once again, in search of a normal American living situation.

Then I met Craig. I'm not sure if you've heard about Craig, but he has this great list of anything you could ever want! Definitely a stand-up guy, and pretty easy to read. He really helped me out this summer, and told me about this apartment in Williamsburg on my favorite street.

I went to visit this little palace, and fell in love. IKEA wardrobe, wood floors, and something completely foreign to me called "Air Conditioning". It's where cold air gets blown around in your room! No one in New York has heard of this rare, new technology so I'm really ahead of the curve here. My roommate is a really cool ex-vegan and feeds me liquor sometimes. She works for the Wall Street Journal and is probably reading this right now! I should probably say something smart.

...

I'm living with a cat named Jones, too. He's crazy! We get along great, but things have been a little awkward because he walked in on me naked the other day.

And there you have the condensed version of how I moved 4 times in one month. This post is mainly the vessel to post the highly-requested photos depicting the goth abode, so enjoy!

Not good to eat:

1. Rotten bananas.

2. Trash from many moons ago.

3. Any of this.

Classy decorations? Note unlucky cat.

GIANT PIECE OF DUST

And now...I live above a muffin shop! That caged-in fortress is my door.

Congratulations?

I guess I really must be vegan. I just pooped completely green. It reminded me of the scene in Weeds where Cilia dumps all the weed in the pool.

I could make another joke about dropping the kids off, but I'll let you figure it out for yourself.

T-1 day until the Epic Nomad Post!

Where Am I?!

An EPIC post is coming your way soon! Get excited!

Updates:

- I died my hair red.

- I went to a lesbian bar.

- I saw a Passion Pit show.

- I got lost in a sketchy neighborhood.

- I grabbed someone's boob on the subway thinking it was the pole.

- I drank a tube of 50 oz of beer.

Those are all pretty good stories, but not good enough to spin a blog about (except maybe the lesbian bar).

So this weekend is my first 4th of July in America. This is because I usually visit my dad in Switzerland for the summer. He used to take me to these corny rodeos in Switzerland to make up for it. All the Swiss people would go to make fun of Americans. Hot dogs and beer everywhere, and people being taught to line dance. I wish hip hop was the American stereotype, but sadly it's country music. These events probably made my dad feel better, but after watching yet another dance team from Ohio, I began to question our culture altogether. One year, however, I was not disappointed. It started to thunderstorm and lightning struck the fireworks. They all went off at once. Tight.

That was about 4 or 5 years ago so I'm pretty sure this event got discontinued after that.

I must confess I did experience 4th of July as a baby. I just don't remember it. AND one year a while back I was in America for Independence Day, but I had food poisoning so I don't think that counts.

Lucky me, I get to have my first end-all cultural experience in New York City. LOOK OUT! I'm gonna paint this town red, white and blue. And maybe a little bit of puke green.

Vegan hot dogs and beer for breakfast. For the next three days.

You can keep track of it via live video streaming on USTREAM!

Just kidding.

Swankified

I gave in and re-wrote this entire post. I may have forgotten some crucial deets.

Last night I was at this:

Because Lisa met a head honcho at IMG on the Subway and sent her a formal invitation. So I headed to Macy's to buy a floor-length orange number, as if I even need an excuse to go shopping. As it was the hottest day of the year, we hopped in a cab hoping for some AC. No luck. Even cars know the heat is too much to consider battling. The sun has a championship belt that it won't ever give up.

We arrived. We were on the guest list. We made our way downstairs to find ourselves in an underground, exclusive ping pong club. The place was serious. A championship match was going on, and we were surrounded by champions/hopeful young businessmen/models/loaded old men. Considering I was evicted yesterday (tune in to next blogpost), I felt entitled to a few cosmos. STRONG cosmos.

Then I ate a vegan sandwich next to Judah Friedlander.

I had encounters with the following people:

- Three old men whose profession was "trading"

- A British man who bought me a tequila shot

- A very old man in green pants who seemed very influential and gave me his card:

- A modeling photographer who I vaguely remember speaking French to:

- A HOT HOT HOT woman in a leather dress who I saw hours before on Fifth Avenue. Dream girl.

- A model in the bathroom who complimented my dress

- A cameraman who interviewed me. I couldn't tell you what I said.

- A sick DJ who wants to come to the MIA show with me in a couple weeks

- A guy who was alternately dressed as a hot dog, a sumo wrestler, a chicken, and things I got too drunk to recognize:

Then we left to go to a rooftop party. I guess I decided not to go because I remember:

- Being alone in Manhattan wearing an evening gown

- Trying to buy a Subway pass with pennies, the only real money I brought with me. Also I left my unlimited pass on my bed.

- Taking a cab to a bar in Brooklyn

- Eating cheese puffs there

- Falling asleep there

...

I woke up this morning at a friend's place still wearing my dress, contacts and earrings intact. I then took my THIRD cab in a 24-hour period to make it home to change for work. As I hailed a taxi, I was sporting gold heels, basketball shorts and a JMU hoodie. Looking fly, if I do say so myself. I got back to the apartment to find gays and girls littered on the kitchen floor, sleeping like little young adult angels. I made it to work with alcohol in my veins, water in my hand, and two minutes to spare.

Feast Your Eyes on This

The moves. The Jews. The solid gold.

Get Me To My Air Mattress

I think I might be dying.
And I blame Miley Cyrus.

My best friend, who shall not be named, and I made a pact. A sacred pact requiring us to do a bar crawl from Brooklyn to Central Park last night to try to make it to the Miley Cyrus concert at 7 AM, McDonald's and 4 Loco in hand.
Now I shall relay to you this very unsuccessful story.

My evening began at a bar at 8 PM. Possibly too early to start a bar crawl that won't end for 12 hours, but HEY. I have to keep a steady buzz going. After a few beers and riveting basketball game that is too controversial to mention at this time, I met the rest of my crew to begin the crawl. I was then harassed by one Amir Cohen about my bar crawl planning, which was basically a general outline of which subway lines to take. APPARENTLY, the correct term for this is a "bar hop" and for a "bar crawl" you need to have at least 30 people in your posse and the bars you go to should know you're coming and have drinks waiting for you. As a Harrisonburger, I find this very unrealistic. But I'm in New York now, and I need to raise my standards of drinking.

Soon thereafter, Cohen ditched the mission proving that his party knowledge and commitment is insufficient.

And then there were 4. It's taking me a long time to write this post because I'm still drunk and definitely cross-eyed. The 4 of us downed some brewskies and then took the subway to Manhattan. We didn't even bother getting off at multiple stops to go to different bars because we were lazy and still trying to convince ourselves that this would be fun.
We lost some brethren along the way. Unexpectedly, one of us did not get on the Subway car. With no explanation. Whatever happened to good old following through? When I agree to drink, I don't half-ass. And I don't sneak away in underground transit. Because I get lost when I'm sober (high school superlative: Most Likely to Get Lost on a Road Trip. Yeah...no shame?).

The 3 of us exited the Subway to find a barren wasteland. No bars, no people, no lights. Pitch black sober misery. Thanks to Google maps, we did find one bar 4 blocks away that would be open for the next hour, since it was already 3 AM (How did that happen? We only went to one bar before this...). We were the only people there, and a man named Sean/Shawn served us up. I tipped him $1, but he didn't take it. That dollar is probably still sitting there.
Then an old man walked in, seeming to be a regular because he just word-vomited "Hitme" to Sean/Shawn, who got him something red. It must have been strong, because he couldn't even finish it.

This old man was drunk, deranged, and exactly 66 years old. He openly greeted Tracey and I, but ignored our male counterpart Davey. Only old men in jail could possibly be interested in a young man in the presence of the two hottest girls on Earth (...Me and Tra).
Here are some key phrases from this man:
- "You're 20? Ya know, I was drunk and stoned until I was 20. Then I got married. That sucked."
- "Hey Sean/Shawn...Did you know you have a small ass?"
- "You work for the radio? You're a working girl? How'd you do that?"
- "I have a small dog. I just walked it for 15 minutes. I was here before then, and now I'm back."
- "Did I tell you that I have a little dog? I walked him today for an hour."
- "I got 5 grandkids. They'll probably get me a fuckin card and some cigarettes for father's day."
- "Always remember to air out your vagina. This is very important! You know it is!"
And that's when we decided to leave. Thanks for the advice, old man.

Now that all bars were closed, it was time to find food. A 24 hour diner presented itself to us, and we feasted on pancakes, cheesy eggs, homefries, regular fries, lox&cream on a bagel, sausage egg and cheese sandwiches and other delicious noms. By then, it was 5 AM. We needed to get in line for the concert at 5:30. We were 3 blocks away from our ultimate destination. It was around this time that we started to fall asleep and decided that instead of just keeping up our fantastic mission until 7 am, we would go home and get useless 45 minute naps before work.

In conclusion, I missed Miley Cyrus. You make me Smiley Cyrus. Because you are a bogus whore.
Despite traveling an hour back to my bed, I still did not sleep for nearly an acceptable time increment.
I was late for work because I took the wrong Subway and was only wearing one contact.
At least I had already eaten breakfast?
I'm having a party tonight. I can't wait until tomorrow when I am finally allowed to sleep.
I don't regret this failure of an evening.

I'm too hungover to know if this is coherent, let alone funny.

My Life is Like Woah

I had another "this is my destiny" night. It was Friday.

For those of you who didn't hear the hearsay, my first "this is my destiny" night was two weeks ago when I found myself drinking something called Death Punch out of an Igloo cooler at a dance party at a loft in SoHo surrounded by tubs of gummy bears. Also, I dropped my wallet but someone returned it to me. A risky evening, I dare say.

So, I went out with my bitches who are really nice. We met in Astoria to get drunk and see where the wind took us. We decided to eat first, at a place called "Oasis" or "Trance" or some other nonsensical trendy name that implies remix dance music as ambience. I ordered a dry martini, while they got pina coladas. We're all 20. Our drinks are served, and the waitress asks if we are 18...the legal drinking age. Fresh off the boat for the win. FOB FTW. I offered to show her my high school diploma as proof, but she said that wasn't necessary.

My martini was straight liquor. I used the olives and my antibiotics as chasers. Don't worry Mom & Dad, I'm just mixing drugs and alcohol.

Our massive bowls of mediocre pasta arrived. I ate as much as I possibly could. Due to the sketch warehouse situation, saving the rest for later would have been a death wish. The leftover portion could have easily been reserved to an unsuspecting customer, so they assumed that I didn't like the meal.

Therefore, they gave me everything for free. Easily the best bar in town.

Next we traveled across the street searching for sweets. We found a massive Greek bakery, also serving as a bar. There I drunkenly ordered a chocolate mousse. Shaped like a chocolate mouse.

Then we almost caught the table on fire due to a napkin + candle experiment. Just say no, kids!

We left cash and peaced before the flame was under control.

Destiny then brought us to a gallery opening and wine tasting. Delicious.

Next stop was the World Yacht Club. As I read that sentence aloud in my head, it sounds fake. Lisa, posse member, had to hand out fliers to drunk people here as her "job". I plan to be employed there soon. After passing the most epic bowling alley in America, we hit the subway to head to beds. There, our lives were changed by The Meetles.

The Meetles:

A Beatles tribute band consisting of some old white guys, what appeared to be my old GirlScout troop leader, a man with a hat and a tambourine, and two token Asians (one was hidden in the back).

They were incredible. Seriously, I would hire them for a party in a heartbeat. On-point harmonies brought to you by the ragamuffins of adulthood. Even better, their biggest fan was there. A homeless man. He stood in front of their money basket and rained $1 bills into it. I think he gave them at least $20 in ones, and then recruited others to join in. Hidden Asian helped collect money with an Elmo puppet.

Truly, the only problem with The Meetles was that they didn't spell their name like "meat".

I bring them to you via YouTube.

Win-Lose Situation

sketch warehouse update.

there is now a shower curtain.

and the goth roomies found the pair of underwear i drunkenly hid under the dining room table that i forgot about until i saw it on the floor in front of my door.

two more days.

The Gugg

today i went to the museum mile festival in manhattan. my favorite part was definitely the guggenheim museum, featured on a recent episode of ugly betty. this has nothing to do with stories or humor, but the artwork was breathtaking.

things i saw:

- a father and son. the son was hot. ...then they started making out.

- a juggler mess up over and over again.

- an old lady with green hair.

- the most horrific clown show, brought to you by silly billy. his "trick" was to put horrifying masks on young children. see his next show in my nightmares.

- approximately 19 asian babies.

things i heard:

- a cranky jewish man making bold and completely false claims about me being in the restroom for 8 minutes.

- someone making fun of my extremely outdated phone. which is the droid. it came out less than a year ago.

- approximately 19 asian babies.

things that saw and heard me:

- 50,000 people at the aforementioned festival. that's definitely an exaggeration, but i made myself pretty obvious. tourists took pictures of me! so if you're one of those tourists, welcome to biddiewatch. comment and let me know you're here!

up next is the day of the wolf shirt, and my racist britney spears rant! stay tuned.