Goodie Monster

Bored?

2006-11-20T12:18:00.000-08:00

I was at work for nine and a half hours on Tuesday. My day at work consists of drinking as much tea as I possibly can, reading the entire NY Times, reading all the new magazines that have come in, faxing pictures I've made to the main office, and generally trying to stay awake.
I also periodically call the main office to inquire what day it is, and offer the same polite greeting and smile to the various clients who make their way past my desk.
Towards the last half hour of work, I basically do nothing but count down the minutes until I can go home to sleep. On this day, I took all of our business cards and made a giant card castle. I made a little hat for a glue-stick and gave it arms out of match sticks, and positioned him next to the castle as though he were about to storm it. I like to imagine he was some kind of conquistador. Surprisingly about four people who walked by asked me if I was getting bored.
Yes. Yes, finally after nine hours of doing absolutely nothing did the monotonous day start to get to me. Now, half an hour before I could leave did I finally realize my job consists of me trying everything I can think of to stay conscious. Did they think the rest of the day was mentally stimulating? Were they under the impression that the workload of a receptionist was a tough and challenging job that requires more education than second grade?
Yes. I was getting bored. I had been getting bored since I walked off the subway at six-thirty in the morning, and I remained getting bored until I was able to grab my coat and walk out of the building to clock-out. True, mine is a mindless dead-end day job, and true, I've been there for nearly a year, so all of this is my fault, but I can't help but be offended that people apparently think that I actually am thrilled to come into work in the morning to sit on my ass and repeatedly wish people a good morning, only to finally become a little bored after nine straight hours of nothing.

"I hope you have fun in California with your stinky balls."

2006-10-01T23:01:00.000-07:00

Emerald is in New York.
She is the grossest. Also, she is a vegan, and since you don't meet many disgusting vegans, perhaps you should get to know her. She and I have been camping at susie's for the last two days. Generally if I don't have to work in the morning I will sleep at susie's, and not brush my teeth or shower or anything, and that's kind of gross, but now with emerald here, everything is twice as gross.
She's introduced something calls "box-tag". Luckily she's only played it with Sue so far. We went to Sue's uncle's bar tonight, which might explain my drunken post... anyway, it was one of those moments where you're in a crowded bar, and there's music playing...and then your friend yells something kind of wildly innappropriate, right at the moment when the song ends. What Emerald yelled was a Thanksgiving story about genital shaving...needless to say this was priceless in a bar with football on the television, and a giant man in a Jet's jersey who has been staring at Emerald all night long.

Well,
I'm drunk, and I have to work tomorrow. Which... is ok I guess, because I got a raise.
rad...sort of.

The new craze that's sweeping the nation

2006-09-17T04:22:00.000-07:00

Have you heard about bedbugs? Apparently there has been a massive and disgusting take-over of New York City by these disgusting blood-sucking parasites recently. Word has it they are so common because the pesticides that used to keep them at bay can no longer be purchased by everyday people like us--thus, the bastards have free reign of the city, and they are leaving us scarred and/or terrified, and infesting more buildings by the second.

They have not attacked our apartment yet, but they are in the building. They are not attracted by dirt or grime, so all you filth-mongers need not worry about cleaning up. They are however attracted by Co2. That's right, carbon dioxide; as in the gas you breathe out of your mouth. So...just by breathing you're attracting thousands of these monsters. Right now. And now. They're creeping up to your dorrstep right now.

Oh my god--it's terrifying. The websites suggest you line your bedposts with double sided tape and seal up your mattress in painter's plastic. This all sounds eerily familiar. I seem to recall the Homeland Security dept. offering the same advice about terrorists and the threat of a chemical/biological attack. Perhaps they had an inkling that we'd be attacked from within.

I wish I had some DDT, it may cause birth defects and cancer, but damn-it, at least I'd be safe for another night.
Goodnight and good luck
p.s.
they tend to strike in the hour before dawn (seriously). Gross

2006-09-17T04:07:00.000-07:00

I think I've discovered something worse than drunk-dialing: drunk myspacing.
It is seven in the morning, and i've requested over twenty people to be my myspace friends.

i've also devoted considerable time to looking up people from my high school, seeing how many of them list "real-estate" as a hobby and how many of them have kids. Good god. It has come to this.

Ted Danson; the man, the myth, the devil.

2006-09-09T22:51:00.000-07:00

Has anyone else noticed the very strong resemblance between Ted Danson and the Devil? (in this case played by Tim Curry in the movie "Legend")
Generally I think he looks like Frankenstein, but I think I'm just going to have to change my tune and start associating him with Satan himself.
All hail Beelzebub (who sometimes just want to go where everybody knows his name).

Green Acres

2006-08-19T12:37:00.000-07:00

I forgot my password for this blog, so I've been unable to post anything for a long time.
But, during my little hiatus, I've decided I want to be a farmer. Maybe grow flowers and have beehives and a truffle pig. I'm sure my parents will be thrilled with my new-found career choice, but I still think shoveling manure beats photo-copying and kissing ass.
So, while everyone else will be gaining valuable job-skills and putting away money for their pension plans, I will be wearing overalls and milking cows. Think of it this way, instead of gifts you all really want for Christmas, you'll be recieving Buff-Orpington hens
and jars of homemade jam.

POMJB

2006-07-29T01:07:00.000-07:00

Ok, so I finished The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, and still I have to say, not that impressed. Sure there were a few minor twists towards the end, but honestly, I was hating her the whole time, so ... I don't know. I gave it a shot though, Guy, I really did.

2006-07-27T20:45:00.000-07:00

I went to sleep yesterday at eight PM, but by four o'clock today I was so tired I felt like I'd been drugged. I fell asleep on two different couches in our house, woke up only to eat fruit snacks. I also may or may not have made a phone call, but I'm hoping not, as I would've sounded like I was on heroin.
Now it's 11:45, and I have to wake up at five in the morning (looks like they're not laying me off--Ryan, i owe you 10 dollars).
Anyway, that's it. I'm thinking about tacos. Thinking about making them. Also, I strarted reading The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie again after a recent comment by a passionate Brodie fan--I'd put it down because I'd gotten bored.

So, there it is, I'm tired, but awake, reading about a risque teacher, and contemplating Mexican food.

Hipster Lingo

2006-07-23T19:24:00.000-07:00

For years now we've been making fun of the affected "like" made popular by valley girls in the eighties, but I proclaim a new wave is crashing around our vintage-clothing attired generation. Listen to hipsters talk. Listen to posseurs talk. Listen to yourself talk. Did you notice the overuse of a certain four-lettered expleitive? It's usually more prevalent in it's adjective form.

Here's a little approximate dialogue from our wholesome family dinner tonight:

SAM: So Andrea and I got dressed up today as fuckin' hipster superheroes.

ME: Did people laugh at you?

SAM: Fuckin' look at this fuckin' shirt. [Sam is wearing a shirt with a photo of a baby on it with mauve rocker-hair. It is pierced all over its face with actual hoops that protrude from the fabric)

JUSTIN: Fuckin' awesome.

SAM: Fuckin'...it's what everyone is wearing in fuckin' Spain.

Just a mere ten years ago, all of these "fuckin's" would've been "likes". And, while we sound more "hardcore", we sure as hell don't sound any more intelligent. Also, imagine the
innappropriate situation we could potentially find ourselves in:

(talking to dad)"I have this fuckin' problem with my lady friend."

(at the local church or youth center) "Fuckin'..I'd really like to volunteer, you know, with the fuckin' kids."

(at the bodega) "Fuckin' gimme a pack of Camel Filters."

(to the lost tourists) "Fuckin, make a right on Jane, it's fuckin' parallel to Horatio.

There you have it my friends and fuckin' commrades, our generation's lingo will soon be known for taking a word that would make our grandparents blush, and driving it into the fuckin' ground.
Good fuckin' job.

Death Valley, NY

2006-07-18T15:32:00.001-07:00

It is so fucking hot in NY, and, in fact the rest of the country, but somehow the subways and the asphalt, the stinking crazies--jesus--it's making us all mad here (Sam almost hit me today, and Liam got attacked by roving groups of water-wielding kids twice). Also, a subway in Queens got delayed for an hour when the third rail--not kidding-buckled from the heat.
Thus, it's time to give you some Juggernaut home-remedies to beat the heat:
1. Cold showers and lots of them
2. Run a little tap water (or Perrier if you prefer) over a pair of your underpants. Ring them out and put them in the freezer. Wait until crunchy. Wear.
2.5 Put anything you will put on or near your body in the freezer. Carlee froze her blanky--soft nubby relief.
3. Flav-o-Ice/Otter Pops, depending on which coast you find yourself on.
4. Watch March of the Penguins.
5. Stand in front of the refrigerator in your underpants.
6. Don't wear pants at all--heat knows no modesty
7. Cry and whine; Liam will have spent all day working on some god-awful roof somewhere, he is burnt and much hotter than you are.

getting things done.

2006-07-17T11:39:00.000-07:00

Took a nap on Saturday night, woke up at three in the morning and stayed awake until 5:00 PM the next day. As I am at least a quarter sloth, this was, for me, equivalent to achieving x-ray vision or levitation. I had to go meet my friend in Williamsburg at noon, and I had to eat sticky cough drops from my bag to stay awake on the 15 minute subway ride. The good news is that I actually accomplished something during my hours awake--I finished the book I've been pecking away at for the last year. I don't think I'll be doing anything with it other than never thinking about it again, but, nonetheless, it's over and done with and that's good enough for me.
I read in some shitty home-design magazine (is there anything I won't read?) about bloggers who make one small painting a day and sell them for cheap to whoever wants to pay a little money for mediocre art. I must figure out how to get on this watery gravy train. I make monsters (hence the title of the blog), usually several a day, but I don't really do anything with them except give them away or put them in piles in my room. Hmm. More on this later.

2006-07-11T22:46:00.000-07:00

I bought 11 books on Sunday, some are shitty, well, most of them are shitty, but I'm enjoying them nonetheless. Currently I'm reading three of them: The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (blah, blah blah, "Dead Poet's Society" but with Scotish schoolgirls and an even more obnoxiously pretentious teacher), About A Boy (I'd never read Nick Hornby before, but I'm pretty pleased with him so far), and, the real kicker of the group, Mirror Mirror, by the chode who brought us Wicked, Lost, and that one about Cinderella.
Once I start reading a book I usually won't stop until I'm done with it, at which point it goes back on the shelf, or out on the curb, but I'm finding this piece of crap so hard to slog through, it's making me nuts. Heavy-handed "midieval-style" sex filled dialogue, foreshadowing so overt it makes me want to rip out my eyes and flush them down the toilet, and a convoluted plot that I think this guy thought up while reading The DaVinci Code and taking a shit.
Nonetheless, I am compelled to finish this travesty, for the sole reason that it puts me to sleep at night, at which point I dream fitfully of gooseboys, revolting menstration scenes, and the seven dwarves, who, I shit you not, are named "Blindeye", "Heartless", "Gimpy"," Deaf-To-the-World", "MuteMute", "Bitter", and "Tasteless".

Things are looking up

2006-07-06T19:40:00.000-07:00

Airin is trying to wrangle me a job interview at her work, which means this little recptionist might finally be headed in the right direction (the direction of evil corporate jobs).
I have to wake up at 5:30 in the morning to go to work tomorrow, but at least I have work to go to, instead of staying up 'till five in the morning watching Ellen DeGeneres stand up on YouTube with Carlee while the mice in our apartment were staging some sort of loud Bacchanalian orgy in the storage space.

Fourth of July Train Fun.

2006-07-04T20:09:00.000-07:00

I ran into my ex-boyfriend from four years ago on the train tonight coming home from Stephen and Karen's Fourth of July party. It seems like people always run into their exes in NY, I know Sammy does on a regular basis (which is why he always dresses nicely before we go into heavily hipster-populates areas), but I, thank god, have never run into an ex...until tonight, and, honestly, he's one of the nicest, so I was actually happy to see him. nonetheless, still a terrifying kind of deer in the headlights moment.

2006-07-03T12:35:00.000-07:00

I found the website of fellow monster-drawers, and their pictures are awesome. Also, they're all friends, and they just draw pictures together all day long. Kind of beats sitting on my ass coughing up cigarette butts and mourning the fact that I'm too lazy to go to C-Town to get some orange juice.

Bollywood and Chicken Sticks

2006-07-01T15:54:00.000-07:00

Kastoory's 23rd birthday party last night, Hollywood vs. Bollywood, lots of beer, samosas, and these weird but delicious chicken stick things that we ate cold.
This morning Benjamin sank his giant-dog-teeth into Shanna's thigh, and then Carlee flew in from Atlanta, and now we're all sitting around bitching, chain-smoking and drinking iced tea. We all smell bad, but we're pretending like we don't.
I might be getting phased out of my job, which totally blows, so now I'm applying to be a barista, which again, totally blows.

Several hours later

2006-06-29T11:13:00.000-07:00

I went to C-Town to buy eggs, and I bought the large brown kind, but more for the novelty of it, because at C-Town, the "brown" eggs are only white eggs dyed brown, as I discovered the other night when the dye came off on my hand.
Oh C-Town, what a shoddy operation you run, though I do like looking at your large selection of tripe in the meat-display section.

German Pancake

2006-06-29T00:27:00.000-07:00

Today I made a German Pancake for the boys. Eggs, Flour, Milk, a 450 degree oven, and Grade A maple syrup. I also made a monster that I will put into the mailbox of my neighbors. This will be the last of many monsters, as I am afraid I am creeping them out. I think I will have to find a new mailbox to stuff monsters into. Sigh.