Category Archives: whatev

dreaming of another world

Ah yes, it’s time once again for my favorite past time activity: waxing nostalgic.

I’ve talked about Daria before, but I must bring it up again now that MTV has finally released the entire series on DVD. So far I’m three discs in, the show is better than I remember. While it’s not filled with as many laugh out loud moments as I thought it would, Daria’s sarcastic remarks hold up fantastically. What I’ve found most surprising is how adult some of the subject matter is; The creators tackled sex, body image, drinking, and condescending adults without any heavy-handed messages. It’s a pretty accurate account of high school life, though you can tell that most of these episodes were written in hindsight. Daria and Jane are more or less the only voices of reason in the high school (i.e. they think for themselves instead of following the crowd) and in turn they are labeled outsiders. Daria and Jane are really just adults trapped in teenage bodies and they’re already keenly aware that high school is 100% bullshit, which is something you don’t realize until halfway through college. And as I’ve said before, Daria’s criticism of shallow airhead attention whores would not fly today, being that those people have become the foundation of MTV’s programming.

My mom finally convinced me to bring my bicycle back to my house the other day in an attempt to motivate me to exercise. Well, it worked.

Now, I’ve had this bike since I was 13. I was forced to buy it with my Bar Mitzvah money, even though there was nothing wrong with the bike I had at the time. I guess my parents figured I should have a “grown-up” bike instead of an N64, though I would beg to differ. I’ve owned two bikes in my lifetime, and on both occasions they were forced upon me in lieu of video games. But I digress. I had $600 in cash, which I used $300 to buy the bike (against my will). What happened to the other half of the money I will never know, because I sure as shit don’t remember spending it.

ANYWAY, the bike and I got along famously until I turned 17 and horny and realized that chicks don’t dig bikes. It sat in my garage until last year when my mom took it to the bike repair shop to fix literally everything. One main reason I stopped riding my bike was because of the awful sound it made when I applied the brakes. It was like nails down a chalkboard. But alas, it was tuned up to be as good as new and then sat in the garage for another year.

Fast forward to today, when I finally took some initiative to ride the Henry Hudson Trail, one of the Monmouth County Parks System’s crown jewels (and located within walking distance from my house). It’s a continuous paved 22-mile trail that starts in Freehold and ends in Atlantic Highlands, so there’s a lot to cover. I’ve only known the trail as a haven for schizophrenic transients and a magnet for complaints about precarious tree limbs, so you can understand that I was skeptical at first. But after a 10-mile bike ride, I can conclusively say that it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I never realized how much I missed riding my bike, and it was amusing to see all the bored teenagers loitering and searching in vain for something to do.

However, there was one unsettling moment. About 10 minutes into my ride, I was coming up behind a middle-aged man who was drenched with sweat and appeared to be talking to himself. As I got closer I saw the he had a hook for a hand. He yelled out to me as I rode by. This was expected.  When I turned around to head back home, I came up on him again, this time at a cross walk. But this time I noticed that BOTH of his hands had hooks on them, plus he was taking up most of the trail. When he looked straight at me, I knew I was fucked. So naturally I peddled like a freight train on the grass (crazy people think it’s lava) as he yelled out “Bro!” at the top of his lungs.

OK so I really wasn’t in any immediate danger, but you see a guy with hook hands and you start to wonder if you should carry a rape horn.


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oh fuck i forgot i still have a blog

You’ll have to excuse the hiatus, I’ve been in front of the t.v. playing Call of Duty 4 for a few weeks. But I will have you know that I have become a level 55 Commander! Please, you don’t have to congratulate me all at once.

It’s been over a month since I moved out of my house, and it still feels like I’m away on a sleepover. So far everything is good, except for the fact that my town doesn’t bother to plow. Ever. But being 8 blocks away from the beach will be great in a few months.

Work is work. Too much work, in fact, but it’s partially my fault. Having only taken one day off in two weeks left me wide open for another sinus infection, but now that I finally have health benefits I won’t have to suffer for a month straight like the last time… I hope. I’ll be damned if I’m sick on my birthday.

Speaking of which, what should I ask for my birthday? I literally cannot think of anything that I need or want. I feel like I’m beyond asking my parents for gifts. I remember the old days where I’d hand them a long list of video games and then quietly play Mario Paint, hoping they’d give me a copy of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 4. And when they didn’t I’d just paint some more crude drawings and play Gnat Attack. Clothes would be nice, but my closet is literally full and can’t fit any more. I may need a new iPod, but I am too lazy to recreate all my play lists. Money would be the best option, but then I may be tempted to run out and buy a PlayStation 3. I guess what I’m saying is that I’d be totally cool with nothing.

A lot of people I know are freaking out about turning 25. “OMG QUARTER OF A CENTURY LOLOLOL!!!!1!” Well it certainly sounds like a lot when you use the word century, only problem is none of us will even live that long so when you think about it, the appropriate age to start worrying about all the precious time you’ve wasted is 35. I mean 25 is old for a car but not a person. If you think you’re old at 25, wait until you’re 30. Or 40… or any age after that. Stop thinking about it and just have fun while you can, especially since you’ll be able to finally rent a car.

My NBC boycott stands. Other than my dad forcing me to watch some of the Olympics, I’ve skipped out on all of their programming. I will lift my ban for one hour on for SNL this weekend, because I can’t bring myself to miss Zach Galifianakis and Vampire Weekend. Glad I missed out on the last SNL though… Jennifer Lopez, really? Bitch hasn’t been relevant since 1999. But anyway, I don’t get any channels on my t.v. because the technicians at Cablevision are a bunch of wankers, but I don’t really miss it watching t.v.

Uhhhh… that’s it.

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all for the best

Have you ever waited for the rest of your life to start?

It’s a sentiment expressed in a lot of romance comedies, but to me it means waiting to move out and become independent. I’m still kind of waiting for that to happen. I feel like a lot of people my age already have their lives figured out. It’s probably not true, but it sure as hell seems like it. I got left behind.

But I’m not just waiting. I’m doing. Taking positive steps. Applying for jobs and getting jobs and going on interviews. But I am afraid of what I want most if always just beyond my grasp. Even though I do everything right, it could all go wrong anyway. Everyone seems to think I am going to get this job working for the park system. And it’s a great job too. Fast paced but fun. And I already know everyone. The interview went great and I think I am one of the top candidates. I really, really feel good about this job.

But then I remember that my brain is hard wired for negativity.

With every new situation, I think of different ways it could play out. For every positive thought there are five negative thoughts. It just happens that way. Every time. Since… forever.

And when I start feeling negative, I think that people are quietly judging me (because they are) and wondering why I’m 24 and still living with my parents and sharing a room with my brother and can’t hold down a real job that lasts more than 6 months. Well, I did get hired to work for Barnes and Noble, so that was a big plus. But what if they don’t hire me to be full-time? I can’t pay my bills with 20 hours a week. I have to work hard. But that’s only if I don’t get the park job, which I have a good shot at getting (or do I?).

Maybe my negativity seeps out and infects other people? It’s not a preposterous theory. Maybe that’s why bad things keep happening when I least expect them to happen.

“The more I try, the more I cry. But it’s all for the best”

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breaking the broken

Oh lord, I originally wrote something terrible and depressing so in lieu of that, here’s a GIF picture from Arrested Development.


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on the guillotine

Once again, I’m falling back into old habits. I’m slowly starting to accept that I need a change. Like, a big one. Plus I think everyone here is starting to get fed up with me.

When my aunt and uncle come to visit next month, I’m going to ask about coming to California.

Lastly, I like this picture very much and all of you should too:


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cupcakes and pool cues

I hadn’t seen the video for this song until now. Amazing.

Last night was fun. I like my friends.

I’m in one of those moods again.

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i caved

… and I watched The Notebook. And I am a huge hypocrite beacause I didn’t think that it was bad.

All I could think about during the movie was “Reel Around the Fountain” by The Smiths. I think about that song when I’m really sad.


I still maintain that the movie is and unrealistic and cliched but I want Ryan Gosling’s beard. 

Depending how today goes, I may be in Boston for good. Only time will tell.


P.S. My fellow New Jerseyites, if anyone complains about NJ’s roads and drivers, tell them to go to Boston. I’ve never been so scared while driving in my entire life.

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