Lip

bonsoir

2008-11-23T00:15:00.003-05:00

so, several things:

im moving to thessaloniki, greece this january for a semester abroad.

one of my bosses bought me an eiffel tower hookah.

and i've perfected my smoke rings.

(somewhat).

you think that working at a hookah lounge all these months i would have had decent practice.

but i'm always so self conscious doing them, because i'm afraid i'll look like a fish.

or miming a blow job.

i don't know, i've got issues.

whatever.

in other news, i saw a girl on a bike get hit by a car today.

by a woman driver.

typical.

hey, woman drivers-

you're making us look stupid.

put down the mascara

stop texting your boyfriend or rochelle or your mom or whoever it is that is diverting your attention

stop fiddling in your purse or singing beyonce

and just drive without killing people.

i really don't think that's so much to ask.

give me attention.

2008-10-29T17:54:00.002-04:00

in the Absolutely Most Fucking Boring Class on Earth.

am seriously fighting urge to attack, kill, and eat professor.

a little motivation, however:

yesterday, whilst my mom was googling her name (like a huge creep)

she found my name on the dean's list for spring 2008.

honestly, i'm not sure which surpises me more

the fact that i made the list

or that my mom knows what google is and how to use it.

am quite pleased.

also, told the man i am hopelessly in love with and he seemed proud of me.

(and a little surprised. but will just ignore that.)

still pleased.

adulthood

2008-10-22T18:10:00.003-04:00

so it has finally happened.

have been bitch slapped by the cold, firm hand of adult responsibility.

all semester have done no homework, and just now have realized how severe the consequences can be if continue to neglect duties.

in desperate attempt to fix situation, i set up meetings with all my professors to explain why work has been inconsistent and late.

am grateful;

were very understanding.

***what i have learned from this experience:

no matter what age you are, waterworks will tend to get you out of most situations.

thank you, college.

weave

2008-10-12T15:07:00.002-04:00

i am bad at many things.

math, sports, singing, writting in cursive, speaking in french, handling responsibilities...

second year of college and mom still does my laundrey.

one thing i always thought i was good at though was shopping.

maybe because i love it so much.

listen, it's not like i thought i was going to go to the olympics for shopping or anything or win an award

i just thought i knew how to do it well.

until this week happened, and the money flowed from my bank account like the mediterranean.

wednesday night went shopping with gabbz.

walked by one of those small kiosks in the mall

and bought a WEAVE.

literally.

you know, the ones those asian ladies sell with all the jeweled clips.

don't get me wrong, my hair has never looked more glorious in my life.

it was just an expensive, ridiculous purchase.

and that emotional fuckwit finally asked me on a date last night.

to club rumor this tuesday.

so naturally, woke up this morning in a crazed panic over what to wear.

ended up back at the mall.

the next parts are hazy...

i think i blacked out, because the next thing i remember was standing outside of armani with a new outfit, couple hundred dollars poorer.

so now will go to club on tuesday with a total fuckwit, broke, wearing an outfit some peppy asian salesgirl "julie" swore was fabulous though am not quite sure matches, all the while worrying the stitches of my weave will show.

i am such a loser.

creep

2008-10-07T01:29:00.003-04:00

as if couldnt possibly be any more consumed by facebook, the creators have invented

facebook chat.

now have yet one more item in life to obsessively check continuously, becoming elated with wild joy when see triumphant flash of a new message, or cruelly brought to manic lows when finding it bare.

which is exactly as have found it now.

empty, like the sullen, distant stare from the man on the subway you thought was a total creep but then later discovered he was blind. or had just died with his eyes open.

do you see what i mean?

and for the gentlemen, it's a whole, new medium of emotional fuckwittage.

am seriously sitting here, waiting for HIM to facebook chat me, like he's been doing consistently for the last week.

like a giant douche.

have been psychologically conditioned by all his facebook inbox messages, pokes, and chats to just regularly expect them, so now that he's suddenly witholding his attention, am practically gaging for it.

oh my god.

he is pavlov.

he is pavlov, and i am his classically conditioned dog.

didn't even see it comming.... thought self was in lead, considering he badly needs a nose job and he asked for my number first.

then today on newsfeed it said that the asshole had taken a new facebook wife, a different girl than the one he was in an open relationship with!!

should just kill myself, my life is pathetic.

18% is standard, 20% classy

2008-10-05T11:32:00.004-04:00

i work at a hookah lounge.

i'm a waitress.

and i love my job.

i love my bosses, my co workers, and smoking free quality shisha, every day.

i just hate customers.

i hate every customer that has, is, and ever will come in.

the biggest douches i've ever had the misfortune of meeting have been durring my 6 hour shifts, running through the dining rooms holding hookahs and a flaming bucket of coals in stilettos.

i hate the customers that say "get me what i ordered last time".

i don't know what you ordered "last time".

it isn't my job to remember what you ordered "last time".

i probably wasn't even working. prick.

or the customers that walk through the employee only sign into the kitchen wondering aloud "is this the bathroom??"

i've been walking in and out of the kitchen holding hookahs for hours, what exactly did you think i was doing in there all night if it was the bathroom?

and have you ever even seen a bathroom?

unless your bathroom has a fryalater and oven in it, then you're a dumbass.

customers that yell at me in arabic, or russian, or turkish

or adress me as "girl"

or snap at me

or throw up in the bathroom (if they can find it)

or ask me for my number....

don't get me wrong,

i absolutely adore my job.

it's just the customers that make me want to accidentally trip whilst holding a bucket full of flaming hot coals and incinerate everything and everyone possible within reach.

tip your waitress.

antacid

2008-09-27T16:02:00.003-04:00

went to a party last night with the kid that was the most popular boy in my junior high school.

was complete shit.

spent whole night sitting in musty room listening to crappy vinyls at full volume with pretentious kids who looked like they just came from shooting an urban outfitters ad, and then was projectile vomitted upon by some douche on acid.

felt like was in perks of being a wallflower.

and the boy that was so cool and unattainable in the 7th grade feels different somehow... now he's just some college bro with some really cheap beer in his backpack, mackin it to me through texts.

he's got no game.

seriously, it's like negative game.

from this experience, have learned that even though one may have been an awkward, ugly cretin in junior high, one can still be asked out years later by the popular boy all the thirteen year olds wanted to fuck, and then get thrown up on by some douche on acid.

that was life, and it happened.

all over my black shirt.

update*

2008-09-24T12:50:00.001-04:00

just found this incredible blog and now things don't seem so bad anymore.

will link it immediately.

i'm sorry ms. jackson

2008-09-24T12:18:00.002-04:00

bleak day.

woke up still drunk after my 5am romp with my fellow nile waitreses.

lost pencil eye liner.

and hair has gone wild in manner of insane, elderly aunt that fights with the neighbors and is too frugal to turn on the heating during the winter time and freezes in her sleep, leaving behind drawers and drawers of random newspaper clippings and a house that smells like moth balls and cat piss.

also, have skipped my cultural diversity class because it is bullshit.

my life is such a mess.

huzzah

2008-09-23T14:43:00.004-04:00

my days of being a wandering gypsy have finally come to a dramatic close.

have found a new place to live.

and am so happy i could throw up on you.

this business of waking up in the morning unsure of where i would be living in a few weeks has given me a new empathy for the homeless.

but then i see the famous Spare Change Guy walking through campus and all tender feelings immediately evaporate.

that's right, have said it:

hate the scg.

boston's darling and the unofficial mascot of suffolk univerity.

he has become a regular fixture here in historical boston, his monotonous call for spare change ringing like bells of freedom across the commons and through the state house.

but he's kind of a dick.

he is actually not homeless (this was proven when he was arrested in his frammingham home sveral times).

so as you can see,

he's just a huge douche

that needs to get a job.

but for some reason, people absolutely LOVE him.

like fox news, whose station is on campus. they're always asking him his opinion and regularly feature him, humoring his "derelict charm".

and if "derelict charm" is synonomous for
"crazy ramblings of the crimminally insane and lazy", then i guess he has plenty of it.

those douchebags at fox news even asked him what his advice was on how to stay cool in the summer.

seriously, are they retarded?

that's like putting an ethiopian on tv and asking him his diet tips.

ok whatever my point is that

a)
have finally found a home.

and b)
spare change guy is scamming us all and enjoying the ride.

the power of christ compels you

2008-09-20T16:19:00.003-04:00

just found a picture i drew on paint when i was 16.

normally don't post these sorts of things, however think this one is special:

believe it captures the complicated emotions that come with being a student at an all girls' catholic school.

i will now leave you to your thoughts.

let me just tell you

2008-09-20T14:12:00.002-04:00

since dealing with Sublet Fiasco Part Deux, have been forced to brave unchartered wilds of apartment searching once again.

you know what that means- craigslist.

and certainly did not expect it to be that competitive!

took a look at potential apartment thursday morning. told her i would email her later that evening with a definite answer.

less than 2 hours later some other hoebag douche ass came by, saw, and conquered.

was devastated.

this blow certainly has lit a fire under my ass.

now find self obsessively attached to computer, refreshing email inbox and craigslist every 15 minutes.

and with each email i send out, every abreviated bio of self, i experience queasy flashbacks of senior year college application process and the whole murky world of uncertainty all over again.

realized: life has come full circle since high school.

was having a shit time stressing over my future.

got into school and had amazing fun.

now am back to hateful, application process wondering if any of my hard efforts will amount to anything remotely useful.

sorry am just crabby because of severe hangover.

chin strap

2008-09-19T16:29:00.003-04:00

went to party last night with my fellow waitresses from nile.

had a few shots, was feeling fine.

vaguely considered hooking up with flirty boy with chinstrap, fake bake, diamond stud earings, shaved and gelled roman haircut, and tight abercrombie shirt.

the boston guido.

immediately cut myself off right then and there.

believe have reached some important milestone in life; that point where am able now to grasp reality even in the most hazy and drug/alcohol induced situations.

however, must remember not to be too smug;

though narrowly avoided the douchebag bullet last night, a bullet that would have certainly got me last year, i was lucky i've grown acustomed to the signs and therefore reacted.

one more shot and i would have lost all reason, causing me to awake this morning (afternoon?) in post-drunken misery with deep, wrenching shame, probably smelling like fierce by abercrombie and vomit.

i will use this newfound skill at stop light party tonight.

600 people going, 500 most likely douches.

praise wisdom.

droll

2008-09-19T13:46:00.002-04:00

spoke to my freeloader friend this afternoon.

wondered aloud what she could do tonight that was absolutely free.

asked if she could come over to my place, eat my food, then take the t together 1 hour, rather than a cab, to nile (the hookah lounge i work at) for a free smoke.

typical.

however, this exchange reminded me of an old greek joke:

q. what's the first step of any recipe in a gypsy cookbook?

a. first, steal a chicken.

hahaha

[translator's note: the word "gypsy" is often exchanged for "albanian" in this joke.]

from my window

2008-09-18T19:13:00.003-04:00

from my window i see dew on leaves.

charming, exposed brick.

a glorious sky.

the dirty, balding man next door as he sits in front of his computer, jerking off.

i am not kidding.

icing on the cake of 1,000 misfortunes

2008-09-18T12:39:00.001-04:00

september has proven to be most ridiculous and unluckiest month of life.

after being homeless for week when roomate turned out to be crazed scam artist, new apartment has also fallen through due to no fault of own.

the guy whose room i'm renting has unexpectedly been called back to boston for work.

said i must vacate by october 10th.

was a real douche on phone.

however, these horrid events have led me to a profound realization:

no one cares.

honestly.

no one cares if you lost 2 apartments in the past 3 weeks.

no one cares if the t was so crowded you were forced to sit next to a dirty chinese man eating a questionable looking sandwich.

no one cares if, because of said t, your boss yells at you for being late and smelling like questionable sandwich.

no one cares if that hot guy was checking you out at that party. he probably wasn't anyways.

no one cares if shelly told ryan who told meg who told conor that marie had sex with alice's boyfriend.

no one cares if you missed class and need someone to tell you the homework.

no one.

this simple truth has set me free.

i was always under the delusion that people cared about what i had to say, what i wore, and what happened to me.

i guess no one really does.

well, maybe my mother.

don't get me wrong, i have many friends.

but they're too caught up in their own problems that no one else really cares about.

so during times like these

times when i've been made a (partially) homeless gypsy by scam artists and guys who have been called back to work in boston from albany

that i must always remember that there is no one in the entire universe that cares, unless it directly effects them.

so i should just stfu.

and keep looking on craigslist.