.comment-link {margin-left:.6em;}

Tales of a Post-Grad Nothing

Thursday, April 22, 2010

Back in Business

I'm not exactly positive about why, but somehow this blog still gets daily hits despite the fact that it's been defunct for several years. While I'm pretty sure the hits are coming from bots, in case my fantasy of a small contingency of really die-hard fans exist, take heart. I'm taking my business over here now. Thanks for your patronage.


Saturday, September 20, 2008

Hey! I'm Not Dead!

In fact I'm the exact opposite of dead! I am living life at such a ridiculously breakneck speed now that I haven't had time to sit down and get good n broody in several months. In the past few months I've:

* Traveled to six different countries where I did everything from shooting a crossbow in a castle in Prague to getting a nude massage (in a semi-public place) by a mustacioed woman in Hungary. It was awesome! And embarrassing!

* Absolutely fell in love with the current boyfriend. Not only because he's adventurous and likes to dance and takes me on red-hot dates to places like a science supply store and loves to spend Sunday afternoons curled up eating Dreamsicles and watching documentaries with me, but also because he is the most honest and kind human being I've ever met. I don't think I've ever felt this at peace in my life.

* Went to Lollapalooza where, during a Rage Against the Machine show, the woman beside yelled, "Hey! I'm coppin a squat!" and then proceeded to urinate (and potentially more) in the middle of a crowd of several thousand. I am pretty sure the aforementioned boyfriend and I were later pushed into that woman's urine. Though the incident happened a month or so ago, that thought makes me feel uncomfortable to this day.

* Continued to stay enamored with Chicago. That is reinforced every time I meet someone awesome as this guy or participate in something as delightfully absurd as this. In the past few months, I've gotten to visit a group that hosts a live-action vampire-themed role playing game, trap feral cats in crack houses, and discuss the future of broadcasting with a guy who could potentially replace human news anchors with cartoon ones. Sometimes I believe this place was built just for me.

* Was given tickets to see Bon Jovi, or rather the back of Bon Jovi's head, thanks to my nephew. While you might think that the best part of that show was seeing Jon Bon's feathered hair waft gently to a live performance of Livin On a Prayer, you'd be wrong. The best part was standing in a parking lot after the show, watching a woman so drunk she couldn't stand up try to convince a lot attendant that some Hispanic lady also coming out of the show was being sexually trafficked.

* Learned to cook...sort of. The majority of the things I've made have been so-so; however, I did make a pretty badass almond cake with creme anglaise and blueberry compote. I am not exaggerating at all when I say that I was more proud the day I made that cake than I was the day I graduated from high school. Don't tell my mom I said that.

* Had my first book published. This one specifically which is the sole reason that I've been so negligent on this here internet thingy.

I'm pretty pumped about this for a few reasons:

#1) Now I can go to a Barnes and Noble (in Virginia), point to that book, and tell strangers who don't care, "I wrote that" in a haughty voice. I haven't done that yet, but I have taken cell phone pictures of myself standing in front of the book on display. Don't judge me.

#2) This is the first step in a very specific life plan I have to write a bunch of books on financial aid, establish accompanying scholarship programs designed for single parents, and help as many economically disadvantaged students as I can connect with aid programs that will help them earn a college degree. Though there are any number of good reasons to focus on this cause - education is one of the factors proven to break the cycle of poverty; students with a college degree are statistically more likely to start businesses, volunteer, stay out of jail, give back to their community, and raise kids that do the same; those with a four-year degree earn an average of $1 million more in their lifetime than those who don't; etc. - the real reason is that my sister and I were both lucky enough to have a mom who made college an expectation, even when it was economically tough on her. Knowing what I know about financial aid now, it could have been less tough. Had we been aware of the thousands upon thousands of aid programs out there, we probably could have had financial help but frankly, we were all uneducated about the process like most families are.

If possible, I'd like to change that or at least start changing that. I think the book will help and in order to get that project off the ground, I'm pretty sure I will have to shut this one down. As a friend recently said, "Nobody's going to take you seriously if they know you sometimes photograph people's cracks." Check and mate.

So while Post-gradnothing.com has been a fantastic experience and I've met some amazingly wonderful people from it, I'm going to have to hang up writing about my own awkwardness in favor of a project way bigger than this.

Thanks for being so awesome for the past four years,


P.S. We finally got a goat!

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Richmond, I'm Not Angry, I'm Just Disappointed

New York Times, May 22, 2008:

"On campuses nationwide, professors and administrators have passionately debated whether their universities should accept money for research from tobacco companies. But not at Virginia Commonwealth University, a public institution in Richmond, Va.

That is largely because hardly any faculty members or students there know that there is something to debate — a contract with extremely restrictive terms that the university signed in 2006 to do research for Philip Morris USA, the nation’s largest tobacco company and a unit of Altria Group.

The contract bars professors from publishing the results of their studies, or even talking about them, without Philip Morris’s permission. If 'a third party,' including news organizations, asks about the agreement, university officials have to decline to comment and tell the company. Nearly all patent and other intellectual property rights go to the company, not the university or its professors..."

Full article here.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

Up Yours Ben Franklin

Last week I had a dream that every boy I've ever had a crush on was marching in a straight line to Canada to get cheapo Lasik surgery and thus ditching their hottie mchothot glasses forever. In the middle of the dream Ben Franklin kind of floated up from nowhere and said with a smug grin, "I'm Ben Franklin. I invented the bifocal and even I'm going to Canada for Lasik." And then he laughed. That motherfuckin forefather laughed directly in my face. I had the same dream again last night and both times I woke up with my jaw clenched in anger at both Canada and Ben Franklin. As far as I can tell, boys in glasses are our nation's number one natural resource.

Monday, May 19, 2008

Taking a Page from Queserasera.org

Text Messages Saved in My Phone:

* Veronica Mars would be proud of you (and so am I).

* I rust [sic] an all Austrian dance circle to the song "Word Up." This is getting out of hand.

* I just did the robot...shit just got real...

* Remember when we saw that awesome Magic Flute play, and that lady behind us was like "I still have that bag of jelly the psychic told me to carry around?" That was the best part of the play.

* I'm no damn good for you. I'm a lone wolf. And this eagle must fly free.

* When you come down here, we're forming the world's greatest gator wrastlin [sic again] tag team! I pity those gator fools.

* I just wanna be dancin. Dirty, dirty, dirty dancin.

* Your yo-face is soft. I know hard baby. I'm from Short Pump and I'm staying at my mom's house.

* I'm sorry I was snoring all night, but it is actually a sign of affection. Really loud and unattractive affection.

* Put on your dancing shoes. I just boarded the funky train to Pleasuretown.

* Girl, I would take you to a fine restaurant that would treat you like the Nobel laureate that you are. Then I would take you back to your place where you could casually unpack while I strike suggestive poses. Then I would show you a poorly acted film that will make you feel like a real woman. And then when you are feeling that way, I will lay you down by the fire and show you the real power of love.

* I want to stab my balls right now.

* I should have given you my temporary tattoo. It has flowers! (not gay)

* I think I just heard a dude yell "Shitty titties" at a girl. Awesome.

* I just accidentally ate someone's food while sitting at a bar. I thought it was common snacks. I hope your day is as surprising.

* I'm in the front center. Look for the guy that looks like He-man, but sexier.

* I may or may not have just spent the past 15 minutes rage singing in front of my computer to musicals. I thought you would appreciate that.

* Newsflash: Vin Diesel movie marathon Sunday on USA Network.

Friday, May 16, 2008

The Great Mustache Experiment Wrap Up

Sometimes I get all bogged down with work and doing other awesome-type stuff and I forget that I have a web site that does more than just link to other more interesting web sites. Though you wouldn't know it from looking at the past, I don't know, couple of years, it is possible, theoretically, to leave actual content on this site that doesn't pertain to broody relationship lamentations, pictures of robots and/or unicorns and/or robots riding unicorns, or stories about my awkwardness. Theoretically.

After finding this today, I suddenly realized that I never followed up on this idea which is a shame because it has a CLIMACTIC CONCLUSION of an ending.

Last July, I made a worldwide call for anyone willing to grow a burly mustache and then let me interview them about the power of the stache. Surprisingly, I got a good bit of response. As a whole, you people who read the web are pretty pumped about your ability to grow facial hair and you are not afraid to tell strangers from the internet all about it. At the end of the day, I didn't have to choose exactly who would be the best mustache candidate. One quite literally showed up at my door:

This is my friend David. Last summer David visited for a few days and showed up bearing the gift of a fully grown surprise stache which he kept for the entire length of the trip, giving me the chance to test drive the stashe for myself, see how it performed on the open road. And oh how it performed. For the four days Dave and I combed the streets of Chicago, heads were turned, eyebrows were raised, sly glances were exchanged between people on the street. When leaving the Signature Room one night, we actually heard some guy burst into full-on laughter and say to his buddy "Dude! Did you SEE that guy's mustache?!" The reaction was subtle, but significant and I think my roommate summed it up best: "It's like...I don't know...It's like it's alive or something. I just can't. stop. staring." The whole weekend felt like rolling with a D-list celebrity, specifically a D-list celebrity you might feel uncomfortable leaving your children around.

But mustaches on men under 40 are by nature creepy. That reaction is to be expected. What surprised me more than other people's reactions was my own. It's kind of an amazing thing when someone is willing to walk around looking like a sketchwad just because they know it will make you laugh. It's weirdly flattering and every time I looked over at that terrible, terrible tuft of hair, I kept thinking someone made THAT for me. Every time a stranger on the street reveled in the stashe's full comedic glory, I felt this surprising tiny swell of pride. Oh that? That little piece of hilarity was made to make me smile. In a bizarre way, it felt like getting a really personal birthday present.

This summer is 180 degrees different from last. I'm officially settled in a city I'm simply crazy for. My job is going fantastically well, I have a new boyfriend who kicks more ass than a team of highly trained ass-kicking ninjas, and I've got some amazing adventures planned, one of which involves making a pilgrimage to a 160-pound statue of Michael Jackson made entirely from white chocolate...seriously. I am happier than I have ever been and I attribute a big portion of that to the people who loved me enough to sacrifice their time, patience, and facial real estate in the name of making my life a little bit better. As silly as it is to say Dave, that stashe kind of meant the world to me.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Deal Breaker

Someone asked me today if I were an animal and I knew that I would be turned into something edible, would I rather be a McDonald's hamburger or a meat hat? I'm not sure I could be friends with someone who said hamburger.