5.31.2007

I noticed something. Why is it when American citizens travel abroad for any amount of time, be it one week or one year, they feel the need to refer to the USA as "the states" ...???

Maybe it's just SO much easier, and so much cooler to just say the states, instead of that long, drawn out, and simply tedious reference of that 2-3 letter acronym. The states is just an easy lil quip. And God knows, we love quips! Can't you just see some dumb college girl being quippy?

I can.

Like, OMG, I forgot to call my Mom back in the states to tell her to send more birth control! Oopsies! Aren't I cute?


IDK, my BFF, Jill?

Sorry, I like that commercial. Cingular has some great commercials. So does Burger King.

I wish I was never broiled!

Anyway, another example, and for your reading pleasure, a typical Facebook message posted by a typical student studying abroad:

"Hey Stacy, I miss you so much! The last six months have just flown by here in Madagascar! But don't worry, I'll be back in the states tomorrow and you're the first person I want to see. Later Slut!"

The states? Not home, not the US, not AMERICA...but, the states. As if the US is now the foreign territory; so vague it's as if they've forgotten, or have gotten over, where they're from.

It's like when I try to think of the location of China, Japan, India, Iran on a map...ugh, bothersome. Let's just stick with Asia, alright? Whatever happened to Asia. Is it still Asia? One thing I know for sure is that anything goes in Amsterdam.

But, back to my main point, which centers around the fact that everyone but me sucks.

In a la-dee-da accent:
Oh God, a rooftop party in the states? I'll see if I have time. The Roos and the Dingos have booked-up most of my free time here in Sydney, Australia, Longitude 33/52 S and Latitude 151/12 E. I'll see if I have time to make it to...the states. Those 50 silly little things.

Our troops would be offended. And anytime you use the troops to your vantage during an argument, you automatically win, so case: Sumner.

5.29.2007

Nothing is scarier in this world than the individuals whom idolize Paris Hilton.

I'd be a bold-faced liar if I didn't admit to daydreaming about the almighty dollar and it's capacity to blur the lines between dreams and realities, but at the same time, I'm scared.

Walking around NYC, I see Paris Hiltons. I see stupid people. People who contribute nothing to this Earth. Stupid people who wear big, white sunglasses and feel righteous with each passing glance of us commoners while thinking, "Ugh, you are simply not rich enough to know that this looks good."

As if white sunglasses make me stop to think, "What a revolutionary idea, I must get RICH in order to look as equally ridiculous."

And it's a shame I can see those shades coming from a mile away, yet I can't even recognize or at least pick out the overworked and underpaid, the single parents, the nurses, the taxi cab drivers...

Actually, I can pick out the taxi cab drivers. But usually only when they're driving taxis. Because otherwise, they blend in with society. A society that thrives off of knock-off Coach purses and bottled water.

The taxi cab drivers amaze me though with their bizarre sense of direction, yet humble themselves with their inescapable body odor.

And, for whatever reason, always keep the windows rolled up?

One time before leaving Wisconsin, I hugged my Grandpa even though he was covered in dirt and sweat from working all day on the farm. He knew he was dirty and sweaty...and he knew that I knew that he was dirty and sweaty.

But that didn't stop either of us from hugging. And you should probably know that he didn't hug people often.

So what I want to express is that my grandfather is nothing like Paris Hilton. And for that, I am grateful.

God rest his soul.

5.28.2007

Let me leave you with this...is it just me, or do Mexican women laugh at everything?

5.16.2007

Let me get a little Nelly Furtado on you for a second and tell you the reasons why I would like to be a bird.

So I was sitting on a park bench in front of this simple water fountain, which is basically just a black pole that shoots water out its top, and then attached are several disks descending down to the base. The shooting water eventually falls upon the disks and dribbles down to the bottom of the fountain. Very simple, but yet eloquently charming. Anyway, so these little sparrows kept flying around the fountain and would land onto the disks to bathe. With the splashing, misting, and dripping water going everywhere, the sparrows would just immerse themselves in the free-flying water droplets and ruffle their feathers, drink a little, and dip their little bird-faces into the water for a little spa-treatment.

It's weird, but I was so jealous. It's semi-muggy outside--a humid 77 degrees--so the water imagery of their refreshing tom-foolery made me want to leap out of my skin. It was quite bizarre. Plus, they don't even have to dry-off. They just spread their wings and zoom off. How do they fly so quickly from the starting line? Don't you have to build momentum? Marvels.

But it's these questions and activities that necessitate my metamorphosis. Also, it must be nice to pee and poop at the exact same time. Right? Plus, you can do it wherever you want, whenever you want...on whoever you want. Perfect.

Do birds even have asses? I've never seen one.

And oh, do birds get fat? Have you ever seen a bird and thought, "Hey...look at that fat bird."

I haven't.

5.14.2007

Hey Kiddies.

Just when you thought it was safe, here I am, back at the keyboard. I apologize for the lack of a pulse...I've just been busy. Yep, very busy. I moved across the country to NYC, started a new job at a magazine, and am somehow trying to ressurect a whole new life...not that I needed a new one, the one I previously had just needed a few, minor adjustments. And buy minor adjustments I mean a new engine.

I must say that this new engine is exactly that: new. The accelerator is quick, the brakes are touchy, and the steering wheel is gripped tightly.

Instead of continuing on, writing cliche after cliche about cars and destinations and tune-ups, I'll stop for now.

I need to sit back and breathe-in this new air, allowing the creative energy to build naturally. I haven't felt creative lately and that's scary. I just need to get settled, rest my feet, and before you know it, I will be back to normal.

And, oh, in the meantime...please visit. I need some home bodies.