Precious Moments

Tonight was an odd night. It started out with all of these plans of going to see a friend's (?) gallery showing in Brooklyn and then going to a dance party in Brooklyn and having the most ridiculous night yet across two boroughs. We went to the gallery (don't let Gossip Girl fool you, Williamsburg is not that nice.) but we didn't go to the dance party, and we didn't act like idiots. We did drink but for the first time I felt like we all acted like adults. And maybe it was because certain people went certain places to act like idiots (and I realize anyone reading this has no idea who those people are) but it was one of the most perfect nights. 

It's weird to go to a school like this because it's so huge and there are so many stories and so many different perspectives, that sometimes you absolutely have to be honest about everything. Tonight was one of those "let's get into a deep discussion about life and how we ended up where we ended up" nights. It really made me realize that I've somehow become incredibly close friends with some of the most interesting people I have ever met. Which to me is odd because I have always considered myself extremely ordinary. It was refreshing to hear everyone talk honestly about their past and the people who populated it. It was nice to escape from the pretense of "We live in New York City. We are Young. We are Young and we live in New York City," because honestly, even though I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, there's only so much of that I can take. I can only talk about being interesting and different so much. To actually hear everyone be interesting and different, especially now, was the perfect change of pace.

To hear about the lives that everyone has carved out for themselves, how everyone thinks of how everyone thinks about them was one of the most (and I realize this is cliche but whatever) life-changing experiences. Finally shifting from thinking everyone being in the same boat was vital. We're not in the same boat, but we are all riding the same tide. I love that everyone I consider a friend is kind of a mess. I'm kind of a mess. A lot of me hopes that you guys are all kind of messes. I don't think it's appropriate to be 18 and have everything figured out. I wouldn't want to live like that, and I wouldn't want anyone to live like that. No matter how much you try to force something, it's never going to be "perfect." Apply that to whatever you like. I know I have more than a few things that can fall under that umbrella. 

It's only like 2:30 which is an early night but tonight started at 6:30 which is even earlier. I'm looking out of my window, past the obvious, anonymous church on Broadway, past the water towers on Fifth Avenue to some of the densest fog I have ever seen. All of the lights that can be seen from room 1304S-C so clearly have gone pretty much dark in this haze that has settle over Manhattan. Looking up from the streets of the West Village earlier tonight, the lights at the top of the Empire State Building, the brightest in the city, formed one white haze. "It's OK. No one's watching." It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. 

I don't know why I wrote this. Maybe I just don't want moments like these to ever go away. I think that it's the nights like I just had that really shape who you are as a person. I've always thought that I've been a composite of the people I know and the experiences we've shared together. Just through talking tonight, underneath sheets that we set up as a fort in someone's room (replete with enough alcohol to make any night interesting), the composite that I am has changed. And for that, I am the most grateful. If I kept being who I was being back when I still went to that all-boys Catholic high school, I don't know if I would have been happy with myself. I like being that work in progress, because at least I know I'm moving forward. 

lol elections.

So yesterday, I voted. I won't say who for (even though i'm sure you can guess) because I've been hating all that facebook bullshit where kids who take themselves too seriously threaten to move to Canada or rejoice about the outcome with a status update every five seconds. But I will say this... it was exciting times yesterday at the big old big ham town. I watched CNN with that dreamy/steamy hotpants Anderson Cooper for about 6 hours and you know, it was nice; although, without Mr. Eyecandy I don't know if i could've gotten through it. After the announcement, an "ObaMOB" made it's way through campus chanting things such as "Yes we can" and "O-B-A-M-A" with thousands (i mean it, thousands) of kids running and skipping along with the celebration. No matter what the next four years brings this was one of those days I'll never forget. It's nice to know that despite the fact that my vote really didn't count... I was still a part of history. Yep, "change" is a comin'. (I hope you all got that reference).


As for the success of this blog, some people just seem to be getting too lazy to update us on his life. Some think this blog will eventually cease to exist, i "blog to differ" as IdA might say. For as long I love to annoy you all about blogging, this blog will continue.
Kay byez.
You know you love me,
XOXO
-Frau.

And I Quote...

"That ain't my lane, dude. I don't do beef. I don't do that. That ain't my thing. I don't do dis records. I don't do beef. I don't do any of that blogs talkin' about cats. I don't do that. That ain't my thing. I'm a grown man. I got money to make." -- Ne-Yo

Just change a few of the nouns and I think you have a summation of why this blog doesn't really get updated all that often these days.

Couldn't be happier...

So today I also spent one of the best days I've ever had in Manhattan. I may not be a part of the hipster/chiptole-eating(:/)/art-making/vodka-drinking group that our friend IdA is currently involved with, but I've had some memorable moments in the city. I've seen many upon many amazing broadway shows, visited the Christmas tree as it lightly and beautifully snowed, spent quality time with my family (father in particular) and friends, shopped 'til i dropped (literally), and even survived a devastating snow storm with the Schmelter that resulted in nothing but wind burn and a closer bond... yes, i've had all of these amazing times but today's experience is challenging all these times for the number one spot... and that is quite the challenge.

I took the subway to Union Square toward the end of my day today (me on the subway? i know i couldn't believe it either). As i sat at a beautiful fountain, resting my feet from a longgg day, I awaited the arrival of my best friend. The frantic searching for Mr. IdA was unbearable, but worth it for the moment that was to follow. Yes, we may have embarassed ourselves, but the screaching noises that surprisingly escaped my mouth were in reponse to the amazing relief/happiness/joy/every feeling that I got from seeing him in real life. It sounds weird, but I felt more complete once we were walking and gabbing again... so yes IdA, you complete me.

From there, the IdA MYSTERY TOUR OF WONDER AND EXCITEMENT (PART 1 and a half) began. I say it was part 1 and a half because a key part was missing... ProducePete. Now that i reflect, it really wasn't the same with out him there. But, now that the depressing part of the tour is over let us procede. From Union Square, the place where IdA drinks vodka sometimes and is not nearly as excting as it may seem, we saw a Whole Foods where IdA sometimes buys food and a very large Trader Joes which was dubbed "the modern age Studio 54" because it is so hard to get into... so, we walked on. I saw the beautiful residence halls of NYU including the 3rd street tower south (?), and many others, but i can tell you one things about them, IdA's room is as nice as he describes with a beautiful view of "that random church you can see out my window" and there is a building called Brittany. Now, I can also say i have seen the Chase bank where IdA gets his money from, the art supplies place IdA buys his art supplies from, the liquor store that doesn't always card you, m2m the japanese store where IdA buys things to eat like "Pretz ... " ( i can't remember the full name of that snack... I knew I shouldn't have written this blog), Sister A's apartment, the video store they have so many "movies" at that are cheap (apparently they are actually real movies), the place where IdA bought his sunglasses, the place where IdA does yoga for free on his roommates yoga mat, Webster Hall which is totally right near his place of living, and the inside of a Chipotle where I consumed its food for the first time ever. I know, this is a lot to take in, especially because I have forgotten a lot of places I saw today. But, i don't really think its the actual places that matter in these mystery tours, its the time you spend with IdA that makes all the time worth while. I really could not have thought of a better way to spend the night.

And if this wasn't enough, yet another screaching running hello moment occured later that night after the tour. The location: The Port Authority, The characters: Me (Frau), IdA, Anne Frank, and Commander Cool. Let's just say Anne Frank and IdA had an accident which resulted in them falling to the ground and let's say that hugs from long lost (exaggeration) friends were the most amazing gift the beautiful day in Manhattan could have given me. Ahhhhhh. It's so nice to be home. Expect another post on the awesomeness that is tomorrow as well.


You know you love me.
XOXO,
Frau




ProPete- I miss you.
Love, Frau

Oh!

Since moving to Manhattan, the greatest feeling of joy I got was having the best day ever. It was gorgeous out. I was looking as close to perfection as a human being can get. I was coming off a great weekend. I had just scored major points with one of my teachers and was on my way to my favorite class. The Justice remix of "Electric Feel" was blasting on my iPod as I stomped and strutted through Astor Place. I didn't think it could get any better than right there in that moment.

Then three times today I got to run and jump and hug all over my friends. That's been the greatest Manhattan moment. Can't wait to do it all over again tomorrow.

How I spent my rosh hashanah vacation...

So here’s my deal. I’m home for the weekend and it made me miss you guys even more. I was lucky and I did get to see Pinky Tuscadero and Zideburnz and Girlkol and Queen Kullen (QK) but, I don’t know, you guys know that feeling where you are grateful for what you have but still wish you had more. It really does kill me that I don’t talk to each one of you every single day. I know we all have thousands of things to do all the time, at least I know I do, but I always find time in the day to think about how I miss you all. Yep, it’s lame. But whatever. It scares me that we are all changing. I just hope our relationships with each other don’t change. I hope that those basement hang outs don’t get old and become unappealing because I’m scared they will be too simple. I’m a different person now too. I’ve come to learn that I can keep myself happy and I can rely on myself. And I think I might have matured a bit? I don’t know how I feel about that yet. Also I’m going through a complete body makeover as well, its this experiment I like to call the “would you be my friend if I came back morbidly obese?” game. I actually enjoy going to class which is weird for me. I spend a lot of time in libraries or outside in the sun… which is also weird for me. I plan on doing so many things at school and I have a lot of things I want to accomplish; but, at the same time I can’t seem to figure out what the hell I’m gonna do with my life as a whole. I admire those people who know what they want and know how they are going to get there. I’ve met a bunch of people but no one that I see becoming a lifelong friend. I’m pretty sure it will take more than a month to figure that out, but as of now that’s how I see it. I also realized how much I do miss my family. It’s very nice to be home and to see them and hear my brothers’ ever deepening voices. The problem is that I have too much time to think about stupid shit and worry. I don’t know how I have much time because I’m always doing something. I find myself completely distracted thinking I wonder what ProP is up to or I wonder how IdA’s weekend was. All these thoughts are very jumbled. And I’m not as unfortunate as I sound. Life is actually pretty good. It’s nice to be able to really know that you can do things for yourself and that I’m gonna actually be able to make it through the year without a breakdown. I mean I may have a heart attack from all the faacking pizza I’ve been consuming, but I won’t have an emotional breakdown wanting to see my mommy. College. It’s crazy. Life. It’s crazy. College life. It’s crazy. Let’s have a hipster party over Thanksgiving break. Kay byez.

XOXO-Frau

Well...

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, but bear with me. I didn't sleep at all last night. Like not a wink. I woke up for my 9:30 class at 9:18. "Shit." I took the fastest shower of my life, and ran two blocks down and like eight flights of stairs up. I still looked really good today. I like really need to do work right now, but I know I won't get to it. I look forward to also catching up on a massive amount of work this weekend and the weekend following. (Side note: Whenever I'm working (studio or otherwise), I'm just thinking about going out. Whenever I'm out, all I can do is think about work. Like, we talk shop so much.)

It was really great to talk to everybody last night. It was kind of like a basement hangout except there was a window like right in front of me. Basements, no windows. Anyway, in addition to last night being great, it also made me kind of sad. Like for as awesome as it was, it just made me miss everything so much more. But really this started when Frau sent out the 98584 (three) text messages detailing times and other et cetera. 

Like all I do pretty much all day is think about everything going on in my head, analyzing and reanalyzing and repeat, and go on Facebook. This is a really shitty combination. Of my four closest friends, one talks about how much she misses her boyfriend even though they text each other and video chat with each other constantly (he's still in high school and they've been dating for three months) two have a boyfriend or girlfriend at Columbia. I see these two people more often than I see a lot of the people in my (very small) program. The last has seen her parents every weekend. It's a dynamic that's fun and interesting, but like, it's weird to feel like everyone else has this other person and you don't. It sucks, actually. And last night just made me realize that even more. I like didn't talk today. Not in critique/class. Not at lunch or dinner. I went to yoga by myself. (I've started a complete body make over. I hope it will be worthwhile by next summer). I didn't feel like hanging out tonight, so I just came home and watched The Office with the two of the three roommates I'm friends with (the fourth is a whole other story) and then when they went out, I just responded "Oh. No. I think I'm gonna do work. But thanks anyway." I feel bad when they invite me places and I don't go. Even if I already have plans, but especially when I don't.

I don't get "home"sick. At first I thought this was a bad thing. Then I realized that I like my new bed more than my old one. I don't have pets. I've been an only child for a long time now. I talk to my parents sometimes. (I'm not a talking on the phone person. I wish one of them knew how to text. I'm starting to find it kind of excruciating. I've actually stopped making calls to them and I don't pick up when I see "Home" in the Caller ID. I'll just let it ring and get back to them (her) the same day and say I was busy. I feel like this is a bad thing, but whatever, it's my own issue and kind of a complicated one.) I had brunch with them once. It was good. I was more excited to eat in a restaurant than anything else. I'm going home next Saturday for my mom's birthday. Great. I'm SUPER excited.

I don't get "home"sick. I get "friend"sick. That's why last night, at the end. I was kinda down in the dumps by myself. And like I didn't really have (or at least felt like I had) an arena to vent today. UGH. "Brothergeorgemymomdied" just IMed me. I am not THAT "friend"sick. Again, like I don't really know where I'm going with this, but nothing new has been posted here since I last wrote here on September 1st. I'm a different person now. I think (or at least I hope) that you all are too. Not radically different, not by any measure, but certainly not the same person who was on the beach that night. And the Anne Frank's  basement that night. And the Massapequa Park train station that night. Or Frau's living room that night. Or any day right after each of those nights. 

Some days here really suck. There's nothing I can do about that. Some days here are the best. There's nothing I want to about that. I love/hate being constantly busy. Or at least feeling constantly busy. I love/hate many things about where I go to school/live and what my major is.

Sorry if this was depressing emo bullshit. Because that's what it sounds like to me. I was gonn write more, but I'm not.

Here

I have class tomorrow for the first time since late April. For the past week, I've been living in this dream world where time doesn't exist and the word "no" is almost entirely absent. Except for when it comes to drinking in large groups. I really dodged a bullet on that one, which like how embarrassing would it have been to be written up for drinking during Welcome Week. A week which at times has been Welcome Weak. (Group [they'll get nicknames later, I guess] and I didn't go to any activities really. A wise woman told me you meet the best people when you skip things.) 

The walls of my apartment? dorm? (but it has a kitchen, granted, a small one) are stark white. Very institutional. Except for the pictures I finally got around to putting up today which made me miss just the senior year of high school and you guys so much. I don't really feel like a college student yet. I guess that'll change once Tuesday is over (Class pretty much from 9:30-6:30) I have a great roommate as far as roommates are concerned. I have one good suitemate. An OK suitemate. And one who maybe moved in earlier today. It's noisy outside all the time and I live on the 13th floor with the windows closed. It's also bright all the time. My view is excellent. I live 45 minutes from home. I miss it a lot but I promised myself I wouldn't see my parents for at least a month. I have the luxury of making that decision instead of circumstances making it for me. I wish my mom knew how to text. I wish my dad wasn't so sad sounding when I speak to him. I was kind of surprised how emotional he got. And I realize you guys haven't really met my dad at all. 

I spend most of my time with the same four people. Practically all day. We do a lot of walking. A lot. It's been a week and I think these people are going to stick. Three of them are in serious relationships. Meeting people at a school like this in a frame like Welcome Week is kind of convoluted. And everyone knows that. I've had the same Where are you from? What's your major? Where do you live? conversation about 100 times. That's no exaggeration. I've started to answer it in one word like this: longislandstudioartthirdnorth. That just makes me all the more glad I have those four friends. Part of me really hopes people not from around here will stop thinking Times Square is a cool place to hang out. That bothers me.

I've never gotten so much exercise in my life. I went to the gym earlier in the week. I went to yoga the past two days for about three hours. I walk everywhere and everywhere is a lot of places. I have the blisters to prove it.

There are A LOT of white people here. The most white people I've ever seen all gathered together. I was kinda surprised by that. Considering NYU. Whites are followed by Asians with cool clothes, Asians who don't have cool clothes, people from the Mideast, Hispanics and then anyone else. There are a crazy amount of wannabe hipster kids who try very hard to have everyone not like them. Almost everyone shops at three stores: American Apparel, Urban Outfitters (you say you hate these two stores, but it's just so convenient to shop there [and here it really is]) and vintage/thrift stores. I got a cool shirt and an awesome pair of shoes for thirty bucks total. And if you thought I had an eating problem, come to any place that has a purple and white flag hanging above it. Everyone pretty much sticks to their race. For serious. We were all just talking about it. I could write so much about the type of people here already. Socializing here is kinda awkward because unlike other schools, we don't have frat scene. There's no real organization. You either hear about things happening or you start your own small party and then meet up in someone's dorm and try not to be loud. Drinking in public out of brown bags/off campus is just better.  No one's offered me coke yet. I've seen some famous people. Last night I was at the same "party" with Chris Matthews's son. It was at my relatively new friend's boyfriend's (my even more new friend) parent's apartment on the Upper East Side. When I was there, I thought immediately, "Well here's something I never would've done if handed the opportunity a little more than a year ago." Funny how people change.

I miss all of you so much. Living in this city just reminds me how close I am to home but also how far. Sometimes I'll think that we should all just get an apartment together and live here and work odd jobs and it will be awesome. But then I remember that it's impossible to get odd jobs. Every waitress/waiter is a model/actor. This is the East and West Village's service sector: incredibly good looking people begging for money. But then you go outside the restaurant to see someone actually begging for money. It kind of breaks my heart. It's only been a week and I'm exhausted. 

You guys should all transfer here. I think you'll all like it. A lot. I miss you all terribly but now at least every time I look over my computer screen I can see your faces. Love you all. I can't wait for Thanksgiving or whenever we all see each other again.

Don't read this, it's not worth it.

Well this will be my first blog from the big ham town, so I’m hoping it’s good and not as depressing as someone’s latest attempt… but we all know how Produce Pete and I share that special bond that means we tend to always relate to each other. Let me set up this scene for you… right now I am sitting on a black leather chair in the hallway of the lecture hall building awaiting my pop rock and soul class to begin. It’s a relatively empty hallway and only about four other people are sitting on these chairs near me. It probably seems emptier to me than it actually is though because I always feel like I’m the only one around. The floors are white and the walls are off-white, and the doors are covered with flyers. But really all that matters is that I’m here alone as usual. Okay, maybe this seems like a pity party, but ProP told me if I write out everything I’ve been thinking, I’ll feel better (props to PP for being a bit emotional). But this empty hallway gives me a familiar feeling because Treng Pak never showed up, and I have an empty dorm room when I get back to my “home away from home.” Empty and lonely seem to be the only words that come to mind when I describe my college experience thus far. I mean when people ask me how its going I say, “it’s great! I love it here. I feel so like independent.” But in reality we all know that translates to, “it’s okay, I mean I miss home but I guess the alone time can be nice.” Whatever, I guess it’s only the first week, so the melancholy attitude should just fade away eventually; but, another well-known fact about me is that I don’t do well with change. When I get a roommate, will I be okay? Will she annoy me? Will we even talk? Will I ever like, make friends? Unanswerable questions, I know. But those questions have been haunting my thoughts… yes I’m exaggerating. But what do you expect? Whatever. Whatever. That’s all I can really say. So yeah. That’s my life. I’m done boring you with my depression haha. I’ll talk to you all soon? And I’ll be posting a new blog about some happy thing or something when that happens. (aka- after the first episode of gg.)

Xoxo,
Fraulien

Report

Fraulien pushed me to write something so here I am doing it. It won't be in the same vein as most of the other posts here.

These things are hard to write. I'll aim for a little more honesty with myself than on that stupid essay they gave us.

Its been about 11 days since I've seen home. 9 since I said goodbye to my parents. 3 days ago I met the person I'll be sharing 14 sq. feet of space with. Still not sure how I feel about any of that.

I feel different than I did 11 days ago. Hell, I feel different than I did this morning. I'm quite sure I'm going to feel different in a couple more days from now.

I'm still trying to decide on my classes. I'm pulled in a whole lot of directions. I'm feeling like every small decision I make in college is going to determine who I am in the future. Anyway this is my attempt to sort out too many things and clamp down on something definite.

I wanna find my niche. I don't know what I want that niche to be.

Life without music was odd, maybe I used it as a crutch for when I'm feeling down.

I'm not sure what purpose I had writing this blog, but I guess writing something feels better.

There's so many more things that didn't find their way onto this post, maybe I'll edit this later. I wanna know how you guys are doing. Bye

Teardrops on my blog.

Well, tonight was possibly the worst ever. Well at least the worst we've had with all of us together. The whole summer has been fantastically simple and the togetherness meter has been at all time high. I've written before about how this was supposed to be the best summer of our lives, the "summer of '69" so to speak, and I thought that may have been an exaggeration... but it wasn't. This was the best summer of my life because i had the best people around me. I know, I know, it's been sentimental times lately and everyone already knows how much I love them but yet again, i'm sitting here thinking about how bff we really are. I hate crying with people around me, but i just cant help it anymore. I try to be strong but it's literally impossible. I can't be myself leaving you guys because you are who I am. That probably didnt make sense to you but really I'm just rambling so whatever.

In 20 years we'll all look back on this and think about how stupid we were to get so upset over this. I mean we will be back soon, but this is the end of an era and the start of a new one. It's up to us to keep these relationships alive and i know we can do it we really try. And I know I will so I hope you all will do the same. This chat we're in right now has cheered me up completely because now i really realize that we can do this. I know we can. I love you all. Thanks for the best summer/year of my life. BFFAEAE.

Btw, this post doesn't mark the end of the blog. I won't let it happen. Also i tried not to be too upsetting and I'm sorry if this upset anyone. We're all gonna do great things together and apart, and i can't wait to see what those things are. kay love you byezz.



P.S...
Dear Produce Pete,
You are my best friend, don't forget about me when you meet all your cool friends in the band. When you get your computer I expect you to be blogging about your life bc we saved this blog once upon a time, so now we just have to keep it going. I love you.

xoxo-Fraulien

"Sweatshirt Weather"

I've been somewhere else for a while. I'm not exactly sure how much longer this blog will last. Who knows? Maybe it will replaced by something seemingly familiar but completely different. C'est la vie. It's been a long, wonderful year. Blogaissance is over. I hope you enjoyed.

Sorry for this. Things are changing soon. Ugh(?).

Good night.

Bienvenidos a Shotgun Falls

Let me just start off by saying the Armageddon is not a terrible movie, it’s actually really fantastic. And IdA would know that if he would’ve stopped complaining and just watched it. Also, it’d help if he had a soul. : ) jkz IdA you know you’re my bff forever and ever.

So, yes, it was an eventful week. It’s really exciting actually because like we totally did things you know? Weird concept. Totes. So anyways, Monday morning was pretty much the worst morning ever that turned into another exciting day. The weather was bad but the company was delightful. The Schmelter drove ProP, Anne Frank, IdA, and me to the Land of crazy Wave Pools and Schmelter theme songs aka Splish Splash. The drive there was full of laughter and funny tales of the previous night, and there were a lot of tales (I mean we did visit the future and the past and the present all in one night come on). IdA was really on his game that morning, crackin jokes left and right, most of these jokes were directed at Anne Frank but what else is new. Also we looked at the now infamous pictures on Anne's camera that we're totally not embarassing at all. Right.

Once we arrived, locked our locker, and put on our headbands... we were ready to go. We rode those rides like no one has ever ridden them. We sang songs and played Concentration. And i'm proud to say we were able to avoid the whole TS match up thing for almost the entire day. We hung out with Aliens and Movie prroducers and an array of different species that acutally existed. We met all these different species during our EPIC adventure to the waveee poool. It seems like a wave pool is only a germ infested pit of death, but really it's good times for all. Every one of every differnt age and gender and race had a blast. Because it's a pool party its a cool party its a blast its a gasp its splash splash splash. So grab your suit and hat and sunblock too, we're gonna splash all afternoon, its a blast its a gasp its splash splash splash. It's a pool party and it's cool.* IdA, Schmelty, and I even made it all the way to the top of Cliff Diver without turning back. It was pretty momentus and daredevil-ish.

Well. that's pretty much it, we went, we had good times, we ate fudge, we were exhausted, we're all BFF. Kay, sorry this came so late.. that's what she said. Right. Now that that happened, time to go. See all you real soon I hope bc i miss you all like crazzzzay.

LOVE,
Frau.

*To give credit where credit is due, this portion of the blog comes from the absolutely genius Mary-Kate and Ashley Birthday Party video. The lyrics really spoke to me so i had to put them in.

Time Warp

On this night we would be a subculture (hipsters) within a subculture (from the 80's) within another one (who are in the future). One may discount the complexities of sufficiently representing the time period we were in. It's a careful balance.

The Schmelter and I arrive early for set up. While trying to jump up to get back into Id A's house I suffer a bit of an accident. A piece of the deck comes down with me along with a nasty cut on my arm. Otherwise everything goes smoothly. Little would the guests of this party know they would be walking into the middle of a future war! Luckily, we were in a fully functional future bomb shelter. A future tree and bush delivers oxygen. Our futurcise bike keeps us in tip top shape. Future bombs are strategically placed in case of ambushes.

Anne Frank, Girlkol, and Fraulien arrive, all looking very snazzy in their outfits. Seems vests were the must have article of clothing of the night. Eventually we all start drinking. Anne Frank binges on Mike's Hards. The Schmelter more or less chugs his White Russian. Fraulien goes 0 to 60 drunk in about 7 seconds. We all drink and drink some more. Fraulien and I took a shot to remembering to stay friends even when we have complete other lives away at college. Aww tender moment.

Frizzle is next to arrive. Wanda showed up as Quailman. She had the amazing power to um.. break the time boundaries that we set up for the party. Jasmine, Stonewalled, and Pabeers next. About half of those who RSVPed yes don't show, but no worries. The Rabbi arrives. Cuban Jesus arrives to the sound of trumpets. Somewhere in between all that Fraulien and I play beer pong. Try as we might we couldn't come up with a team name. The result was It's Kind of Like Beer Pong. ::crickets:: Yea... lets not talk about it. Our performance was less than stellar.

Throughout the night if any of Id A or my parts slipped out accidentally - Not on purpose.. I'm looking at you Id A - it was the duty of the others to subtly say Barack Obama. This ended up being a necessary precauation. Also, the playlist was mostly under the radar but it followed the time periods closely with a mix of MGMT, Michael Jackson, and Hannah [Hammered] Montana. Id A brought out homemade Mud. Very delicious.

Post beer pong we go back to the basement. The amount of people dwindles. All of a sudden.. GLOW STICKS! EVERYWHERE! Apparently it also became picture taking time. Some of us are caught in very provocative poses. That's the risk one takes when wearing short shorts. Some partied on, but around Midnight I find my way to a bed.

Sweet Dreams and good night.

-P.P.

ARMAGEDDON IS THE WORST.

YOU GUYS, ARMAGEDDON IS THE WORST MOVIE. LIKE WORSE THAN HOME MOVIES OF ME AS A BABY TAKING A BATH. WAY WORSE THAN THAT. HORRIBLE. WHY IS BRUCE WILLIS BLOND? I DON'T GET IT.

OMG

HAPPY BLOGTHDAY!!1

To celebrate, I have read every single post since the last time July 25th happened. I have winced at most of them. So many spelling mistakes.

Ye Olde Fashioned Beer-B-Q

Everybody! YEAH! EVERYBODY! There was a beer-b-q yesterday! In all honesty, I really don't know how to spell that. I think out of convenience I'm going to switch beerbq. No? It does have a red line on it. Ok, beer-b-q it is. You guys, beer-b-q is in Webster's Dictionary.

You guys, there was beer and burgers and, oh, yeah it was all thanks to the Schmelter and his parents' arrival in Cocoatown, USA. I'm pretty sure when I was twelve I saw something on the Travel Channel to that effect. Anyway, everything has a nickname. EVERYTHING. (But not really) 

I'll begin at the beginning. And really the beginning is the parking lot of Dubs K. EVERYTHING. Beer was purchased by Produce Pete's brother, Pool Boy Pablo. He didn't have shoes on, so I'm not really sure how he was allowed into Dubs K. Like they sell food there. It's a pretty nice place. Like, you have to have on shoes AND a shirt when you go into Sevs and Sevs is like shitty. Every single one. Anyway, we decided to take a break from the traditional Bud Light (though it was bought for the timid) and try a fancy beer (Blue Moon, it is made from wheat [Does that mean it has less or more carbs???? HOW DID NOT ONE OF CHECK THAT]) and human piss (PBR, I assume in preparation for the activities of this coming Sunday.)  Oh,  and like burgers and buns and all that good stuff (except bleu cheese, IMO, IMO) were there too. It was a feast. MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH. The usual crowd munches on burgers and Taco Dip provided by the fine people (person) of Fraulein. (Quick question: does anyone who does not write for this blog or in a clique with someone who writes on this blog read this blog? If you do, just leave your nickname in the comments section. There won't be any comments, guys.)

So now, we've all eaten. Some of us are sufficiently drunk. I know that by 8 I was already gone because I had three whole beers all to myself because I am a big boy (pussy). Some of us swim! Swimming while inebriated is fun. More fun that just swimming and just being inebriated. Like chocolate and peanut butter. There is more talk of M/F/K because I just can't let it go even though the Gab Girls (like the show!) started it in secret yesterday. Always with the secrets. And now we get to the fun stuff. Not to say the other stuff wasn't fun, but the more fun drunk stuff!

UNDERWEAR TIME! Produce Pete and I both had to borrow things to swim in. This meant we had to take them off to give them back. We were in our underwear/naked under a towel. Outside. In front of others. For not a short a period of time. Zideburnz danced. In HIS underwear. And then this repeated when BP started. I typed what it stands for but I just like to abbreviate. From what I can cull from my brainspace, Produce Pete and Commander Cool went 4-0 (?) but BP records don't really matter because everyone wins. Also, my butt was exposed (?). My butt was exposed. I know you are sorry if you missed it. I'm sorry you missed it. So was Zideburnz's arse. Yeah, that happened, now I remember. I think that in the past week I've been told to put my pants back on more than in the 18 years and seven weeks preceding it.

I'm sure we made jokes about Ms. Piggy. Like that's just a given. We don't even have to be drubnsk to do that. Then there was BK and pie and Italian ices but no wooden spoons which made me sad. Then I got even more drunk so if I miss anything I apologize. I read Produce Pete's texts then he got mad then I said I would give him a dollar to touch Anne Frank's knockers (SO SORRY) but then he dared me and I said no and then we went to go smoke cigarettes even though I quit like two weeks ago and it's really cool to do that and there is a gigantic question mark after this ridiculously long sentence. Then I whispered sweet-nothings in Schmelter's ear. Rock Band. Yeah defintely some Rock Band in there. Then I fell asleep? And someone gave me a hug? Then at 7:45 this morning I woke up to go to work. Because I am so classy like that.

I look forward to repeating this process all over again on Sunday. (Deja BREW! GET IT!) Produce Pete and Schmelter have already seen me in my outfit. I think that with all the chips and fixins' this hipster party is turning into a dip-ster party. That sound you just heard was the sound a shotgun that I used to kill myself after I made that joke. And the deja brew one.

I do have one question: Whilst I was under the influence, did someone grab or bite my right nipple really hard? There's like a cut on it and it hurts really bad. Like a small cut, but still noticeable if you spend as much time as I do looking at one's nipples. Either I was taken advantage of, or I'm gonna be a mommy.

Now, I just need to remember what goes in dirt.

Wise Words.

"They say a leopard can't change his spots. But some things do change. The path not taken can become a road trip. Being grounded can lead to something groundbreaking. And whether they're sweating it out on the sultry sidewalks or cooling their heels in the Hamptons, no one does summer like New Yorkers. Grab your shades and your sunblock. This one looks like a scorcher. Until next time. You know you love me. XOXO —Gossip Girl"

Guys, I didn't know they based Gossip Girl on our lives!!!
That's all for today.

You know you love me. XOXO -F

GIRL TALK

Last Sunday, the Day of Our Lord, five buds took a trip to the beach: Id A, Produce Pete (representing the men) Fraulein, Anne Frank, and Girlkol (representing the women). I could make this post about how men and women do things differently but this is not 1992 and I am not on Premium Blend (Whatever happened to Tommy Davidson?) Despite the differences (grrrls bring blankets to the beach instead of towels and they don't go in the water but that is only sometimes) XX and XY have the talk in common. Allow me to explain.

Girl Talk started with the grrls talking about other grrrls and how friends sometimes aren't friends anymore and this fat girl was a really shitty friend and then some girl with big boobs did something. I'm not really sure. It gets kind of hard to follow. Also, there was a People magazine. Some couple had sex for 101 days straight. Mind-boggling. Anyway. We men (Id A and Produce Pete [it's weird when I refer to myself in the third person, isn't it?]) grew tired of all this Girl Talk. We swam. We frolicked in the water. The waves were totally gnarly.

This is a long set up. So, swimming inspired me to be more active at the beach instead of just lying on the girl-brought blanket. ProPe and I went for a walk. A really long walk. All the way down to the nude beach. All old dude and old dude balls. I felt like we stepped back in time before clothes were invented but umbrellas were (that's the order it happened in, right?). The grrls were totally talked about us so hardcore back in civilization. There's clearly plenty to talk about. ProPe and I lead such scandalous lives. We realize that we have walked like really far. So we decide to pause and stare at the ocean some. Then we walk back. Let me just say this hour and a half walk did not feel like it took and hour and a half. So we're walking back.

Then we start doing some Girl Talk, but a totally different kind of Girl Talk. It was like relationship Girl Talk. (ProPe and I are both single. Everyone already knew that. Let's play Never I Have I Ever again soon! I'm rambling.) We were both saying how this is like a really weird time in our lives. That sounds dramatic but it's true. Transitions aren't always easy especially when the transition is from childhood to adulthood, high school to college. So anyway, relationships are hard. It's hard to find one. It's hard to be in one. It's hard to stay in one. It's hard to make one work. It's hard because we are 18. It's hard because pretty soon everything is going to be different. It's hard.

I don't think at our age, at least our age in 2008, it's difficult to do a relationship right. And it's easy to do it wrong. There's more to talk about but for now this is all. For me, this is all goes back to that big question mark that far away at times but knocking on the door at others. I'm not gonna open those catalogs. Think of this post in whichever way you want. Girl Talk can be a good thing.

Completely Unrelated Thoughts:

-I have a new favorite place, it's called 3 AM.

-Whenever I shave my beard, I always feel naked. Like a piece of me is missing.

Contemplating Life...

So i'm uber exhausted from this sunburt week because of a kickass GNO! (a quick thanks to Hannah Montanna for that abbreviation), an amazing BJ at Shea, and a late-night date with biffies and the Dark Knight. All of these events were memorable and totally worthy of "What I did over my summer vacation" essays. But today I'm not going to recap this weeks events, I'm going to look to the future.

In the upcoming weeks we'll dress like hipsters and venture off the St. Rose Fair. We'll watch stupid movies and eat taco dip. We'll spend time at the beach and watch I Love Money. We'll do the same things but we'll all change. We'll be here, and then we won't. And to me that's the weirdest and most ridiculous thought. This is that summer that we all have heard about. "The best summer of our lives." The summer before everything changes. To me, it's going pretty smoothly and I'm enjoying myself. But at any given moment I can begin to upset myself for no reason. I look around at all of the people in my backyard, sitting around hold their hands up and embarassing each other, and I become depressed. Okay, maybe depressed is too harsh, but you get the idea. As IdA said, "relationships are hard. It's hard to find one. It's hard to be in one. It's hard to stay in one." Now if I understood IdA correctly, he was talking about relationships in the love sense... but I'm talking about the relationships we all have with each other. Over the past year, all of us have become the best of friends, (awwwz) and, unfortunately, we're all going to be away from each other very soon. I can't stop myself from constantly thinking about how different it will be the gang in all different places. And I can't help but wonder if we'll all put in the work we need to to keep out relationships strong. What will it be like next summer? Will the blog survive the year?

These questions have been tormenting me all summer, so i figured since the topic of the day was relationships and girl talk, I'd let you all know how I've been feeling. I know these are unanswerable questions and I know we just have to live one day at a time. But, change tends to scare me. And just as a sidenotee, girl talk really is a good thing, you should all try it sometime. And I love gabbing about our lives before the gang.


Peace, Love, and Batman,
Fraulein.

DO YOU SMELL WHAT THIS BLOG IS COOKIN'!!!!1 (Part the Second)

I have not been neglecting this blog. Blogaissance is still on. IT WILL ALWAYS BE ON (it is the refrigerator of blog-based theme words.) I've just been busy or tired. In fact, I was going to blog today when I got home from work but then I remembered I would be out until three in the morning and should probably take a nap of sorts. It was a really good nap.

Don't worry. The gang has been talking a lot about relationships as of late, and today I was thinking a lot about "question marks" (post to come! Id A to approve!) So, there is enough to write about and it will be written. GOD AS MY WITNESS!

Lastly, tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment so, as the die hard fans of this corner of the Interspacetube will realize, we're kind of coming full circle when this blog was started 357 days ago. Oh the changes that have come! Also, with some hipster-themed party in the works, we'll have even more to gab about.*

*This reminds me that I was going to write about jer-ama (get out your IKOLT dictionary) and how much some love it. It was going to be called "Girl Talk." It will be called "Girl Talk."

Voyage to Montreal (Ocean City), Canada (Maryland)

All it took was one inconspicuous text message. Then the ball started rolling, and boy did it move fast. Next thing I know I'm driving all the way to tattoo and body piercing capital of the world, Ocean City. Was it Montreal? No. Did we still have a fucking crazy kick-ass good time? Well yea sure.

Day 1:

The drive up is uneventful. Id A confesses his fetish for maps, and vows to one day have sex on one. We play the license plate game and very nearly win. When we arrive we immediately hit the beach. Us and the Schmelter family go to Seacrets that night (get it?). Afterwards Id A, The Schmelter, and I decide to go the boardwalk. The highlight was definetly the fudge. The Schmelter beats me at my own game in a percussion-off and makes my animated Japanese persona cry. However, I would avenge myself the next day.

Overall I found the OC to be a place of excess. Food franchises, trailer parks, mini-golf, cover bands, t-shirt shops, white people. I could go on forever..

Day 2:

We sleep in. Then to the beach. A baby right next to us poops and ruins everyone's good time (Don't they have any sense of etiquette?). The Schmelter family goes to see Wall-E and comes back disappointed. I just don't get this as it was probably my favorite movie I've seen so far this year. It affirms that everyone needs someone, even robots, and especially team single. During this time we eat some authentic southern BBQ. This alone soothes some of my concerns about living in the south next year.

Fast forward to the night. We eat at the one restaurant in town that did not have a pun for a name. This bode well for the food. As expected, it was a very good meal. We made a second trip to the boardwalk so Id A and the Schmelter could put their lives the hands of some rusty springs. Almost right after God decided that the sin of Ocean City was far too great and heavy rain started to fall. This would last for 40 days and 40 nights, but we cheat fate by leaving town the next morning. Our hearts go out to those who remain.

After an agonizing drive I'm back at home. No Pool Boy Pablo I did not drink, but I did experience Sonic, and I'm pretty sure the deliciousness got us all a little tipsy. I may have beaten Id A to the punch with post, maybe we will see this trip through his eyes soon. Until next time.

Viva la Vida!

-P.P.

So remember that time I came back to civilization.

After an eternity in no man’s land NY and the the big ham town, it feels fantastic to return to the land of All-American and internet access. Unfortunately, I’m spending my first full day back inside a cold and fluorescent office building answering phones instead of enjoying the surf and laughing at Shoobies at the beach (yes, that was a Rocket Power reference). But, as for the last week, here’s my life in list form.

- The day of independence came and went, and we had good times while some had good alchie. But, expect a post on that eventful day later on.
- I drive, no really like not momma-frau, I drive to no man’s land. Over two bridges and through the woods we went… and we listened to Chris Brown the whole way, so life was pretty good.
- When I arrived in the old country I was greeted by family members of all different types. Uncles, and aunts, and cousins OH MY. But after the warm welcome, it turned back into the Boringville I know and love.
- I watched no tv, so I missed I love money. Tragic.
- I barely got to check my FB. Devastation.
- I had to spend quality time with people who think that I will amount to nothing in my life because all I do is watch tv. But like, come on. If you don’t watch the trashy tv I enjoy, you aren’t living life to the fullest. I’ll defend I love NY and Gossip Girl until the end of time.
- I saw the newest Will Smith action adventure movie HanCOCK. No, it may not have been Casablanca, but it was fairly entertaining and at least I wasn’t sitting on the couch staring at the carpet. Plus, mammafrau cried. I didn’t really understand how she thought it was that touching, but you know it was cute times.
- I ventured off into yet antoher long car ride, and because mammafrau and one too many vino’s, I was behind the wheel yet again. It’s kind of an exhilarating feeling driving on Route 12 for two hours behind an 80-year old man… if by exhilarating you understand that I meant torture.
- Once I hit the big ham town, daddyfrau, mammafrau, and myself checked into the red-roof inn where I finally watched tv. I got a few hardy chuckles out of Old School, despite the fact that I’ve seen that movie about a hundred times.
- Orientation was good times. I picked classes. That’s about it.
- Back to no man’s land. We mini-golfed? Yes, we did. That was the most exciting part about the trip.
- I finished a certain book for Anne Frank’s graduation present. Bravo me. It only took 3 years. But you know, once you pop the fun don’t stop, and now I like to read? Huh? I can read? No, stop pulling my leg.
- I arrive home.
- I go to the Schmelter’s interesting and intense partido del beisbol. I finally see my friends again!!
- I go to work.
- I write this blog.
- I need to get a real life.

And that’s about it. I can’t wait to hear all about the fantastic bro-cation to OCMD. Except I’m very jealous of it. So ta ta for now. And BTW, I’m very impressed with this blog as of late. Good job team.

xoxo,
Fraulien

Summer Activities Log

But first, this blog is in my "Popular" links on my Mac. This blog is not popular. That is irony.

And now for the meat, a day like this I haven't had in over a month. I missed it ever so much:

(To preface: Last night at around 12:21 I fell asleep with computer still on Youtube, open on Brother A's bed in the sweat-soaked disgusting clothes I had been in all day. At 4:27, I finally migrated to own bed but not before tripping over hipster-clothes containing bag. POST TO COME!)

-10:13 Wake-up.

-10:14 E!'s Countdown of the 30 Best and Worst Beach Bods. I didn't even follow it through to the end because...

-11:36 FAMILY MEETING!!! Parents A "didn't feel well" today and postponed Illadelphia, cancelling the Deep Fry "party" (of four). Things discussed: Who are these people you are always with, Id A? OCMD discussed, finalized, tomorrow.

-12ish-1ish FACEBOOK!!!!!!!!!!!!1!!!!

-one o'clock (kinda) Cement fancy-pantsness and spend the next hour and a half on The New York Times Website. I immediately take this away but jumping from the NYT Website to, of all places, Facebook.

-2:46 I guess: Non-blahg blogs are back from July 4th break! I was starting to get the shakes.

-3:34-4:16 Shath (shower-bath). I erase all the Earth friendliness I practiced yesterday by sitting in the shower for that amount of time.

-4:16-4:48 Sit on bed in nothing but towel watching VH1, only wishing I Love Money were on. Sexxxy, no? No, it is not. It is MINDBLOWINGLY SEXXXY.

-4:56- 5:24 FACEBOOK chat with The Rabbi about some incriminating (not me) pictures. Also, The Schmelter makes a brief and fractured Internet appearance.

-5:32- 5:50 Stop at supermarket for two items: Cheez-Its and Archway Dutch Cocoa cookies. I am disgusting and currently regret both of these purchases. Also, go to bank. This makes me feel not so gross and more growed-up.

-6:01 Chipotle.

-6:34 Things of an internet nature. And then this.

Expect a sexxxy post from someone about the sexxxy boyventures (not like that) to, during, and from OCMD. ROAD TRIP!!!!1

drubnsk

imma drunk right now. LOL?./
r u drunksng tooo?

anthopmny justnd daisn "quality post"!

I OVEt uyoui gutysa,

How I Spend "Free Time"

Since all I do is intertube and think, here's a little bit of both:

Every time I drive home from that town I am always in but don't live in (da Hick do have its good points, like Chipotle and its proximity to major transportation) I can't help but think about how right now everything is perfect. That's a big word, but its true. Then I think about college which I am very excited for but INCREDIBLY sad about. Mostly because that means this blog won't be updated ever. Blogaissance ends late August '08 (if this blog lasts that long). Actually if you compare how long it took for the Renaissance to happen from the origins of time, this blog will not make it past this sentence because the world is going to end in 2014 (My Bible told me so.) This doesn't make any sense at all because I am a retard. THE WORST. Remember those stream of conscious posts months back? This paragraph, IT'S KIND OF LIKE THAT (I finally did it!) and I apologize. I am that girl who writes those dreadful notes.

To make up for what you have read, here is a video of a baby duck snoring!

DO YOU SMELL WHAT THIS BLOG IS COOKIN'!!!!1

That's from somewhere, but I forgot.

Can you guys smell that? Can you guys feel what I feel? Huh? You can't!? WELL THEN! I'll just spell it out for you guys.

I do believe we are in the midst of a Blogaissance (hahahahaha I'm so lonely)! I'm talkin' like the good old days of yester(last)year when this whole thing was new and different and I wasn't so jaded. What do I have to be jaded about these days. Nada. Let's blog emeffers. Let's blog our little hearts out about anything and everything. E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G. This summer only happens once.

More posts, more people, more perspective.

Thanks you. Good night, and good Nazis.

-Id A

Call me Mr. Produce Pete

It was a day of sushi. It was a day of unauthorized beer pong games. It was a day boasting the most daylight this year. Most importantly it was the day Produce Pete became a produce man. My cast of characters arrived around 6:00, while some not so characters showed up too (they know who they are). I won't complain however, because anyone whos giving me money is always welcome in my home. While I won't name an amount, lets say I could have broken it into 9,000 quarters or several outfits from UO.

Next came the sitting. I mingled a little bit but barely, because most of the guests at my party were my parent's friends. Then we left to go play wiffleball. Almost all of the boys played, and all of the girls gossiped. Pitching became a problem with the 110 mph winds at our back. The good guys won out in the end.

Back to my house. The DJ showed up later. The play list was a mix of mostly 80's and 90's songs that I despise, with some modern hits that I despise thrown in for good measure. Nonetheless it gave us some entertainment when we could no longer tap into the unending hilarity of the "Hey lets draw Produce Pete in Random Situations" game. We dance and sing so loud that a certain other person's party guests were ashamed they hadn't been invited here instead.

Later on a cake was brought out. Here a room full of people sang to me which is way more attention than I ever want. Party End. Drinking begin. A mellow night when we realize getting drunk just isn't as much fun as it used to be. My friends get me a Zune, which they found out I had been wanting by using some very covert intelligence-gathering techniques.

All in all it was an enjoyable day. Stay tuned for my next post, chronicling a wacky night of cigarettes, strippers, and items I can finally order off of infomercials.

-P.P.

I have no money, I have to make my own dress

As I sit here alone at the office (sounds grown-up right…) I realize that I really have nothing better to do but to write about fun times for this readership’s enjoyment. So, where do I begin. I guess I should start at nine o’clock eastern standard time at my house, la casa de la Fraulein, on Thursday, June twenty sixth. The morning that would precede the “best night of my life.” Strangely, I was not excited for the day that was ahead of me. I was more stressed than anything, and the fact that the Frau-mom started my day off with a nice chest x-ray and 2 hour trip to the doctor didn’t help much. But besides the early morning, I had a thousand things to get done- hair, makeup, shopping, getting dressed, and the list goes on and on. But I guess in the end it was all worth it because eventually it became PRE-PROM.

Pre-prom is just picture after picture of your dress, your date, your friends, those other people we were stuck with, and in mine and the Schmelter’s case… your shoes. Ours happened to be the very unique converse sneakers we bought on the interweb. Mine had silver sequins and his were classic black… absolutely stunning. They were definitely the best parts of our ensembles. We took extravagant pictures from 3:30 to 4:30 at la casa de la Fraulein, then we traveled over to the land of the lolli-pop guild for our next pre-prom stop. There we smiled with people we don’t like in the hot hot heat for about an hour and a half. We also ate veggies and dip, salsa and chips, and a lot of different cheeses. Everyone was very successful at smiling with the exception of Produce pete who’s now infamous picture has taken over FB.

From there we took a ride in our white Escalade stretch limo to the main event. Anne Frank, the Schmelter, Pro P, and I were all squashed in one seat the whole way there as we listened the BoPeep’s CD of songs that we were sure to hear once we got to the Promy. As we pulled up to and our pony-tailed driver, Wes, helped us out of the car it all set it. We were at our senior prom, what? It was a surreal kind of feeling until we really started to get our dance on and everything else felt like it was time. (I know, I’m the sappy one of this group of bloggers). But anywayss, we danced we laughed we ate we drank we lived we loved we learned and we left. That’s pretty much it. OH, except we made sure to dance and talk like IdA all night so that he would be there in spirit with us. We missed him so.

Then, without having danced our final dance, it was over and we ventured on to the after-portion of prom. First, we headed back to GirlKol's house for a quickchange and and refreshing Poland Spring. Once returning to the escalade, we were on our way to the citay. We were supposed to go to the hot spot, Dangerfield's... an after-prom favorite... but because of the Indian manager that stood in our way, we ended up at the Ritz Diner. And it was ritzy let me tell you. Most diner-goers enjoyed a nice grilled chesse, but others coughannefrankcough decided Jello would be fun. After this nice four-star meal, we were back with Wes on our way to Riverhead to camp out in the stars for the weekend.When we arrived, we silently took a ten minute walk to our tents which we had set up the day before. It was quite the adventure. Any sudden movement or even the slighest of sounds was sure to get us kicked out of the campsite.* When we got to our charming little 8 person tent, the Schmeleter, Anne Frank, Produce Pete, Commander Cool, Pinky Tuscadero, Zideburnz, Buttons, and myself all began to ready for sleep. We all change, and because he was so shy, Commander Cool even got serenaded with "Big Spender." The whole tent had the giggles for hours as "big foot's dick" and fart noises made us laugh. Even Pro P chuckled at the sounds. My favorite moment of the night was the familiar sound of Metrostation's "shake shake shake shake a shake it" was played during silence inthe tent. After we were all giggled out, we all fell asleep with sweat filling the tent.

The morning came, and the beautiful sights of best friends waking up to each other was seen. After a beautiful pop-tart breakfast and bug filled showers, the day began. The "men" went shopping while the wonen chatted and camped. The day was relativly boring besides our trip to the beach and our sit on the wood. When we returned from the sit, Fishface was already deep into his drinking binge and BoPeep was ready to begin (note that it was about 3 pm at this point). Dinner was McDonald's and company was delicious. We all smelt terrible and looked worse, but the togetherness was unstoppable. I'm trying so hard not to say the negative things about these past days, so i won't. Pre, Prom, After, Camping, it was all something i'll never forget. But I'm glad to be home because now I don't miss IdA so much. smilezzz.

Kay peace out for now. Happy graduation to everyone at the big MPQ. I'll see you all later tonight!

-Frauuuuulien

Awkward Catch Up Chit-Chat Condensed

Things I did while 92% of this blog's readership was at pre-prom, prom, post-prom and post-post prom.

-I "got money."

-I ate Chipotle for the third time in a week because I am disgusting.

-A.B.D.C. (However, I will only watch Fanny Pak because these eyes, these ones right here on my face, don't even see losers -- and that's exactly what every other crew is.)

-I discovered some new music and actually put it on the iPod.

-I went to sleep before midnight in a very, very long time.

-I went to work. This time only for four hours because...

-...I picked up my MacBook Pro. Oh, and it came with a two-hundred dollar rebate. Oh, and it came with an iTouch. (Yeah, I hate when I brag too. I just had sexxx with it's USB port. Oddly, however, it was on top.)

-I took the slow train to the city for MoMA meet-up with Polo Bear and Speedy Mussolini.

-I found a new god in an old god, an Icelandic spatial artist.

-I took some not so flattering pictures in front of things, just off to the sides of things, while fiddling things.

-I was really good at subways.

-I was really bad at subways. (I must practice this.)

-CROOKLYN. BKLYN. Grimaldi's. Waterfalls (see "new god").

-I learned the importance of always charging a battery.

-I walked from "Peas and Pickles" in Brooklyn Heights, across the bridge, through Manhattan to Penn Station with Speedy Mussolini. I'm not sure how far that is, but it was pretty spectacular.

-It was so spectacular that I no longer have a reason to play my least favorite game, "WashU vs. NYU." (That is the game where I try and figure out how my life would be different had an different outcome occurred. I do this to the smallest detail as you could possibly imagine. No, smaller than that.) It's safe to say, you guys, there exists no perfect a place for this little boy. This walk was more effective than orientation, and that wasn't even BOREientation.

-I texted. A lot. To many. Too many.

-I went to the beach by myself (?).*

I hope you all enjoyed pre-prom, prom, post-prom, and post-post prom. Produce Pete will have plenty to say about it in the coming days. 

*This has not happened yet. I doubt I will follow through any further than typing it.

...And Everything In Between.

Things I learned about myself and others in recent and not so recent days (that was the worst sentence ever):

-This is the best: "Oh man! Remember when you put those grey shorts on that koala bear?" I don't know if that happened in this dimension but I know I heard that sequence of words.
-Chipotle, not for olds.
-I am easily fooled... by robots. Italian blog robots? Italian blogbots? Italiblogbots?
-I probably should smile with my teeth in college just to avoid being "that guy who looks like a date rapist."
-Also, everyone should be date raped one (1) time in their life. That was the decree.
-I can help bake, but mostly I can food process.
-Goats are tastey.
-Wesley Snipes has brights. This should make finding Asian bitchszzzz for him to munch on a little bit easier.
-'Tis more fun to drink than to drive. (I want that put in macrame "Bless this mess" font.)
-Cosmopolitan, the magazine for very worldly women, is mostly a manual for how to be a whore (no one can say anything to change my opinion on this), but it does contain and advance copy of the New 50 Great Short Stories book.
-Am I losing the Battle of the Bulge? Not exactly, but kind of.
-ABDC! ACDC! M&MDC?
-Everyone looks better with a tan.
-I can handle the silence. A broken radio is the best thing to happen to me in a while.
-Ripostes. Good at'em.
-There's no danger in listening to Neon Bible four times in one day. Or Night Ripper.
-I can't make decisions anymore.
-I don't want to go to college anymore. Like at all. I think I'm just gonna chill for forever.
-THINGS FALL DOWN. PEOPLE LOOK UP. AND WHEN IT RAINS, IT POURS. (That one's just for me. But it is very fitting to the weather this week.)

Will this blog get a book deal? No. But my-oh-my things are a-changing.

I cried for three hours, and then I became a team member!

Welllll, this is very exciting. It's me Fraulien and this is a very strange feeling to be "blogging," I apologize in advance for not being as talented as IdA... but I think i might give Produce Pete a run for his money.

So I’ve never done this before, BUT because I just got home from my last day of high school and I can barely see because of all the tears in my eyes, I decided to ask if I could this write this to get things off my chest. I figured since most of the people that really made me this upset about the end of this high school thing read this funny little thing, I’d just spill my grief out into this “blahg.”

So this morning I woke up at Pinky Tuscadero’s casa in disbelief and with total readiness for the day that was afoot. As I piled into the car with PT, her brosef, and Anne Frank, it began to hit me. This was it. At that point I still didn’t know whether I was excited about it or completely depressed (I realize these are two completely opposite emotions and they are usually easy to distinguish between… but I couldn’t decide which one I was feeling). I got to my locker, twisted the lock like I have used for 6 years now, and opened what to me seemed like the door to my heart. Weird, I know. That locker and lock were mine, and next year they won’t be. That school won’t even be my school next year. Like, really? What? I’m going to college? Huh?

So we go through the day, and here’s where this whole story gets interesting and completely blog-able. We all know the “SENIORS ’08 WOO WOO WOO” kind of people (and secretly we all know that we are just like those people inside... don’t worry I won’t tell anyone)… well these people decided today would be SENIOR PRANK AND WATERBALLOON AND FUNNNNNN DAY! Seems harmless and innocent, OH NO HONEY, that’s so not what it was. Let’s put the statistics out there… 1 large slip-and-slide, approx. 100 water guns, 5 people arrested, 1 person screaming “fuck the PO-lice” and claiming she was hit in the face with a night stick, 1 HUGE girl fight, 1 HUGE girl gets in the face/ her boyfriend beats up a girl… fight, and 650 graduating seniors cleaning out their lockers. Not to mention the 15 cop cars and 1 helicopter. Yes, it was an eventful day. But unfortunately, at about the midway point in the day, I realized that my attitude toward the day was the “completely depressed” one and I couldn’t even enjoy the girl fight. Come on, me? Not enjoying girl fights? W T F!? EVEN WORSE, the first song I heard when I get home was “Wall-to-Wall” by my true love, Chris Brown… and THAT made me cry? What is the world coming to? I’m not Anne Frank… I’m Fraulein. Fraulein is not a wimpy name… not really a good name either but whatever, that’s so not the point.

The real point is that today it hit me that in a short few months, we won’t be sitting around every weekend wondering what to do. IdA won’t be going to that 7 11 he where sometimes gets gum. Produce Pete won’t be spending time in the produce aisle or putting up with Produce Pam (its pam right?). Schmelter won’t make stupid jokes… wait. And Commander Cool won’t dance to Ms. Avril Lavigne anymore.* You know what I mean. Being sentimental sucks. But right now, it’s gotta happen. So here it is, consider this my virtual yearbook entry… I love my friends (that’s you guys!) and as much as I need some things to change, I don’t want anything to change. All of you, well prob not all of you… but to the ones who know who I am… you all have made my senior year the best year I’ve ever had. You changed me for the better and I’m so happy and thankful that you are all in my life. HERE COME THE TACKY CLICHES that actually mean something today, don’t ever change because I love you all just the way you are and I can’t imagine my life without you. Each one of you has a special place in my heart. And as the wise Vitamin C says, “I keep, I keep thinking that it's not goodbye. Keep on thinking it's a time to fly.”
I hope this blog isn’t as bad as Produce Pete’s last attempt. Thanks for reading.

Peace and Love,
Fraulein Schmelter

*I realize that Avril is married to that guy from Sum 41… but I don’t know if she took his last name or whatever so I went with the 2002 version of her name

Long Anticipated Follow Up

So here I am writing a blog again, even though The Schmelter thinks I'm boring (sad face). I've been thinking a lot about how to get this blog out of the doldrums of the internet, and then I realized it would be impossible unless I post more.

I suppose I'll sum up our week since Id A is slacking.

-Graduated high school. (Less interesting than it sounds)
We basically sat around for awhile. I had a super awkward moment with Kermit and Miss Piggy.

-Ate Chipotle 4 times in one day. (More interesting than it sounds)
Undoubtedly the most impressive maneuver FNBS has pulled off since its conception.

-Watched America's Most Eligible Bachelor of the year 2000 (By far the highlight of the week)
If this contest was held in 2008 it would have been a very close battle between Id A, Commander Cool, and myself.


I agree that it'll be rather sad in a couple months when we all split up. At least we have a couple months to party really hard like we do.

I keep it short and sweet, so bye.

-P.P.

"So, Welcome to the Cruel, Hard World"

My boss said through his mustache immediately after asking how my graduation was (post to come!). That's right I went back to work today and never in my life have I been more bored. I've never felt like I should be somewhere else so much. Not much happened today because nothing ever really happens at work. I just sort of file and catalog and sit in front of a computer and not really talk to anybody but the kind 57-year-old Colombian janitor, Jose.

This was the highlight of the day: I went to 7-11 on break.
I got Vitamin Water because I LOVE pretense.
I got Red Bull because I was wiped and didnt feel like making Id A's Secret 7-11 Blend.
I got a Brownie Krispy Kreme Muffin because that exists, apparently.
I got a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos because I'm gross.
I put the Red Bull in the Vitamin Water which turned it to urine. Like, I'm no chemist but I'm pretty sure that's what happened. It looked like urine, it smelt like urine, so that's what I'm going to assume urine tastes like. If it was like a duck and talks like a duck...
I only ate top half of the muffin which cancelled out why I got it when I could've just gotten a regular brownie and spent less.

Also, did I make a black friend today? Only time will tell.

PS: There will be a post about the events of June 3rd. I just don't know if I'm going to write it COUGH.
PPS: SPOILER ALERT: There is nowhere for me to masturbate at work now. This is HORRIBLE. You all should've heard this story at least once.

Disposable...

A lot of times, it's awkward to see people you're really only Facebook friends with in person. Like outside of school. In the past week, this has occurred thrice times.

As I was working outside with Parents A this morrow, I realized that Facebook has very much changed who we consider friends. For the worse. Like some people you only remain "friends" with to read there TOTES killer Notes, others just because it would be awkward.

I don't know how I feel about being a trendsetter either.

That is all.

Adventures in Self-Analysis (and Self-Promotion)

Some of you have read this already and have the opportunity to read it in a much different form but I present to you, my faithful and EXTREMELY demanding readership, one of the few things I am actually proud to have written and taken part in. Its not formatted in the way a usual post on this blahg is, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
I know I complained about Owns Me a lot, I do still dislike it, but if it weren't for that Sisyphean shitstorm of student journalism, I never would have written this*:

Twenty-seven thousand feet over Michigan, on an American Airlines flight bound for Chicago-O’Hare International Airport, I read these words: “They were, after all, schoolchildren playing at being grownups.” Read in the twilight of my high-school career, this sentence at the bottom of page 104 of Gabriel García Marquez’s One-Hundred Years of Solitude summarizes how I feel about my experiences over these past four years.

The words resonated in my mind. Months of study and work, as well as the students and teachers who populated more school days than I can count, had led me to one of the most significant moments of my life. Suddenly, there was a second light bulb burning brightly over seat 22B as the realization finally came: I’m not as young as I used to be.

I peeled my eyes away from the page and thought, “There’s a stranger to my left and to my right. I’m flying to a city I’ve never been to, to go to another city I’ve never been to. I’m doing this by myself.” It was an independence day of sorts, except it was the finale of my own evolutionary war.

On the ground, beleaguered with a backpack and a duffel bag, coffee in one hand and cell phone in the other, I made a few calls back to New York as I waited for my flight to St. Louis. “No, I had to connect in Chicago. My flight gets into St. Louis at two,” I spoke with confidence.

“My flight.”

It sounded so adult.

“I could get used to this. I can do it. I am doing it,” I thought. This was my dry run. A practice round for what I would have to do many times in the next chapter of my life. If I were playing the role of an adult, then my Academy Award was pretty much a lock. The only problem was that I wasn’t playing. It was another stage in the evolution from high-school senior to college freshman– a process I’m not entirely comfortable with yet.

There had been many times before when I felt like one of the grownups I always wanted to be: my first sleepover, my first cell phone, and my first time driving solo. The youngest of my family, I wanted to be older my whole life. I had always tried to carry myself with the maturity of “the older kids.” But, standing outside Gate K7, among a sea of businessmen anxiously typing away on their Blackberrys, my sense of maturity had never felt so real.

I owe the overwhelming majority of this latent maturity to Chaminade High School, the institution that I felt the furthest from at Gate K7. Inside and outside the classroom, lessons came and went. Not every lesson manifested itself on a Scantron, but there certainly were tests. I realized the 14-year-old boy who walked into Room 219 in August, 2004 for his first day of 3-CWeek was an entirely different person than the 18 –year old man who will walk across the stage of the Tilles Center on June 1, 2008.

It was not until the spring, around the time of college decisions, that I felt I had earned the title of senior. My college applications (a process that requires its own amount of maturity) had been reviewed and finalized. “Next year” was talked of more frequently. It seemed the last paragraphs were in the final stages of proofreading, on their way to being printed.

When the college letters came in(some good, some bad), the next chapter, college, had never felt so close. I was faced with the biggest decision of my life up to this point. Coupled with the completion of the last two large-scale assignments of the year, the thought of high school nearing an end bounced around in my brain and off other people’s tongues more and more. On Facebook, friends joined countless numbers of “(Fill in the blank) University Class of 2012”student groups. Countdowns to the final day of school began.

“It’s almost over” turned into “Thirty days left.” Thirty became twenty; ten became five. Five more times I would park in the lot across Jericho Turnpike. I would have five more Chaminade lunches. High school was over. One more chapter completed. Gabriel García Marquez’s words only compounded my mix of emotions about my run at Chaminade being over. The past weeks had felt like a blur. Soon, I would no longer be playing at being a grownup. The adult I had always wanted to be is the person I am now.

*[Ed. note] WAAAAAAAH!

French Food and Used Shoes: Profiles in Awesome

Everyone can relax. This blog post is new and I hope that it will be entertaining. I was told I "had to blog about tonight." And after the little stunt someone with the same initials as urine pulled on the Fifteenth of May in the Year of Our Lord 2008, it would appear as though I am losing control. Well, I'm taking back the helm of this little Intertubespace ship I like to call Hope. Dad's home; the party's over.*

On the evening of the Seventeenth of May in the Year of Our Lord 2008, a little get-together (many good things are abbreved GT) took place. The occassion: the 18th anniversary of my breathtaking and so far well-reviewed emergence from the womb of Mom A. The place: The town I am always in despite not living there. The people: awesome. Attendees were as follows: Id A, Produce Pete, The Schmelter, Fraulein Schmelter (BPE, needs a better name), Anne Frank (ditto), Zideburnz, Pinky Tuscadero and Commander Cool who is last on the list because he showed up last. (That's what you get for having "a family." What are those anyway?) We were all dressed to the nines. One of us even looked like a cowboy! (Urine)

READY!?! OKAY!!!

First there was cheese and crackers. And mozzarella sticks which really took away from the authentic French feel (tricolors, fancy plastic champagne glasses and sparkling raspberry-apple cider [credit: Produce Pete and Schmelter.]) Perhaps if they were brie sticks? I don't know; moving on! The was relatively untouched as just two hours before this meal I had finished half a bag of Doritos (Cool Ranch only) while "Keeping up with the Kardashians" for four hours. I lead a very sad, sad life when I am by myself. MAIN COURSE!

"Beware the toothpicks, guys." CHICKEN CORDON BLEU! QUE CORELLE! FRANCE! Despite Doritos, I will it anything if wrapped in meat that comes from a pig. Pigs are most delish farm animals, IMO. Really, this was the first home-cooked meal I've had since Thanksgiving (saaddd) and it was actually really good. BRAVO LADYGIRLS! Cards were given, I was flattered. YOu people spoil me. Like really, above and beyond.

Then there was dessert. Oh, dessert. Cupcakes: good. The menstral blood that came with them: not so good. SRY! The crepes: good. The effort it takes to make crepes: cancels out the outcome of crepe making. Then I drank a plastic champagne glass filled to the brim with chocolate syrup because it's my birthday (it was actually last week but no one's counting) and why would I count calories at my own birthday party? There can't be than many in chocolate syrup? Right? RIGHT!?! [Vom] I'm not bulimic. LIKE AT ALL. Then we cleaned, slowly and with much ado. BOWLING!

Then we went bowling because I said it and everyone had to listen to me. That is except if you had a dress on, then YOU could do whatever YOU wanted on MY birthday. Bitches. While waiting to bowl at the happiest place on Earth, we formed two cliques: Team Single and Club BFGF. As I had a crown on, I appointed, nee anointed (I'm a king, I have those powers), myself Team Captain. Team Single (Commander Cool, Produce Pete, Anne Frank and myself) just talked about how good (bad) it was to not have the old ball-and-chain. [Tears] Being Team Captain of Team Single is really the best (worst) thing ever. [Tears] Then I got mad that a stupid arcade game that no one in history has ever won existed and it really is the stupidest thing ever theres no way in hell anyone can gain that much electricity in their "node" to win that monkey FUCKYOUARCADEGAMEIHATEYOUFOREVER. Then we bowled. I performed only slightly better than Barack Obama but much worse than Produce Pete who has apparently been hiding a secret bowling talent his whole life (NOTE: maybe this is not true, check posts in February 2008 if you are that curious and you totally are.) I always enjoy bowling because it combines four of my top 46 favorite things: competition, dancing, recreating/pretending to be on America's Next Top Model, and fun shoes.

Then we returned to Mrs. Schmelter's "PARTY ZONE '0hGR8" (I just anointed it that) for chit chat. And, God, do I love to chit chat. All in all, I have some pretty awesome friends who are the only reason these days why I leave my house. God love 'em. Thanks all! Exoh, exoh.

P.S. Leaving for college is going to be so sad. Yeah, I said it.

*The truth is I'd probably be more interested in this blog if it had horizontal stripes. Alas, it does not. So we beat on, heads against the current.

Ahem..

I'd like to welcome myself to the blog. In a desperate attempt for new and interesting content Id A added me to the team. So while the level of wit and charm will certainly diminish ( to be honest it has already) post count will not.

But wow I'm bored of this already. I suppose I'll use this once in a while to complain and of course my awesome college idea.


..tshirts?

-P.P.

SUMMER '0hGR8 BEST SUMMER EVER

Want to know how awesome it already is? The Goo Goo Dolls song "Iris" came on the radio. I haven't heard that song in forever and I love it.

Also, this blog got pretty dusty.

SUMMMMEEEEEERRRRRRRRRR '0hGR8.

Summer Movie Forecast '08

Ashton Kutcher and Cameron Diaz find love at the end of that movie.
Patrick Dempsey and Brown Haired Girl find love at the end of that movie.
Sarah Jessica Parker and That Dude find love at the end of that movie.

I go to Montreal, not a movie as that will be much better than any movie could ever be.

Die Kulture

As I stated in my optional essay to an Ivy League school I didn't get into (le waah), I am a child of the nineties. Being one requires that I being staring at a screen of some sort for at least 6 hours a day. This is becoming more and more of a problem for me because like...THIS IS A TERRIBLE HORRIBLE AFFLICTION.

Like TV sucks.* I can only watch the same episode of Top Chef four times before it gets old. I can only see the same BonerJuice commercial so many times. The same goes for anything on MTV (MTV is actually the correct Polish pronuncuation of "retard." I swear. Go look it up.), VH1 or any network. In fact I realized the other day (this year has been the Year of a Million Realizations) that I watch the same show on different channels over and over again. This is fucking with my vision. Granted, this will only give me an excuse to wear more outrageous sunglasses. (Ed note: At Diznmerikuh USA1! World, the sunglasses [which are now scratched, I'd rather not talked about it] recieved mixed reviews but did spark a conversation between me and Kid Who May or May Not Be Guilty By Association.) I mean, I like seeing sexxxy Latinos cavort and compete just as much as the next guy, but just because I like something does that mean I have to watch it too?

I will regret this post much later in life, the future (where everything is on the Intertubespace), as I will be #1 Single, sitting in my futureapartment, not feeding my futurecats their futurefood, watching futuretelevsion and lamenting how great it used to be.

This brings me to the Intertubespace. Some times, for serious, I wish it didn't exist. Like for rillz. I spend too much time on it. I could take up another hobby like soccer or laxxx or reteach myself how to ride a bike. (Ed note: That was a sad day when I learned that truism was decidedly false. I forgot. Like my brain pushed that out of my head so I could remember who was sleeping with whom on The Real World: Sydney.) I wrote in my essay (le waah) about the Livre du Face. I have an addictive personality; it's a part of my family's genetic make-up. Granted, I'm addicted to the Intertubespace and not something fun, it's still bad. Again, do I really need to know whos Online Now? And Now? And Now? And in three seconds from when I last checked who was Online Now?

I know what some of you are saying, "Id A, if you're addicted to the Intertubespace, then why isn't this "blah"g ("Blah"g is copyright Id A, etc.) updated more frequently?" Because, reader(s) this is work, work for which I do not get paid**. Wink.

Side Note: If you're ever sad and want to feel even sadder but can't find the right combination of about twenty five minutes of music to express this sadness, then boy, do I have the solution for you! It's all by The Cure: "The Same Deep Water as You," "Disintegration," "Homesick." You'll thank me.

*The exception of course, is Gossip Girl.
** Your gratitude is not payment as I can not spend it on ridiculous sunglasses/tshirts/the same clothes you already have.

DIZNMERIKUH USA1! WURLDXXX

It's time for the Disney World blog! It has been nineteen days since I have updated this blogospace. Let's begin with the beginning:

I arrive at C******** at 4 o'clock in the morning; this is something that even though I know is abslolutely never going to happen again, I still never want it to ever happen again. My body clock is completely thrown off for the rest of the trip because of this.

There was coffee, there were danishes, chitchat etc. The flight to TAMPA, yes! TAMPA!, felt so long, but what felt even longer was the subsequent bus trip to Orlando. It was the most anxious hour and a half of my life. Central Florida also does not have the most exiciting terrain. It does have the most exciting RV dealerships though, a lot of those.

So, Disney. A lot of fatties. Like a tonne (right now I am British). There were also a lot of British people there including the most badass seven year old ever. I want to be him. I imagine his name is Ian, his father works in bond trading but isn't around that much (he was by himself the whole hour-long wait for an anticlimactic tall waterslide) so is instead raised in Notting Hill by very attractive au pairs. So anyway, Diznmerikuh was crawling with chunk. IT NEARLY RUINED THE SENIOR TRIP.

Uday Pulaski was afraid to go on Splash Mountain which, honestly, I find funny. It is the trippiest ride ever. And this fox and a bear have buttsecks right at the end of it. They groan and everyone gets wet and "satisfactual." Actually, a lot of Diznmerikuh rides are just kinda gay. Like that Yeti. The problem with this rides is that a lot are just kinda lame and kinda not worth the wait. Like everywhere we (Id A, Produce Pete, Schmelter, and Uday Pulaski) went there was a line. Even for the bathroom that one time.

Honestly, I found the best part of the trip to be $uper expens9ive dinner at tres authentic French restaurant in Epcot Bistro de Paris. So French! Tres French! (That was a preview of the French version of Dora the Explorer, Lenore the Embittered Chain-smoking Whore. You are welcome.) There was escargot! FANCY! Foie gras (fo-ee grass)! FANCY! Lamb! Duck! Cheese! Souffle! Creme Brulee! FANCY! FANCY! FANCY! What pleased me most about Bistro de Paris was that we were the only C******** students in da joint. Also, Paul fro Verdun. And Marion! The Breadgirl! SO CUTE! She taught us how to say bread names in French. (Rustic and Baguette. I less than three Americaworld.) TRES FANCY! This was all before ended our friendship by taking the dessert menu (which he said I could have) out of my hands. We did leave a generous tip though, because it was the greatest meal any of us had ever eaten.

There's more to write about (like I didn't even mention the ho-tel), and I could be wittier, but its getting late. My eyes are heavy. Maybe I should do this in the afternoon. This trip made me realize even more that school is ending. Also, I totally broke sequence with this post. I said I would start at the beginning, but I jumped. There will be a sad post about this and a happy post about this. There's always something to write about. The prblem is that there's not alway someone willing to write it. Will it be you? Or you? Or maybe even... you?
Heart, bros.

P.S. I wish I updated my blog as frequently as Thought Thief updates hers. It is wonderful. And she did actually steal my thoughts again, because not only did I start blogging before her, but I invited THE IDEA OF BLOGS.*

*Even if this were true, my bank account would be exactly the same.

No Truer Blog Has Ever Been Blogged

Here's a little excerpt from a very long post written long ago from a totally different blog. There's a long story about how I found Sex and the Ivy (Google it, its kinda bad but also funny because this tiny Chinese girl writes very unabashedly about how good she is about giving head), and I won't go into it. I only saw it this eve because of the Chastity Club article on Times website that I was talking to Uday Pulaski about. (That was the fanciest sentence written on this tube of the Interweb yet.) It word for word summarizes my feelings about blogs and other blogosphere-related items including "tshirts?":

The tears came at a price I don’t want to pay ever again and right now, I’m
doing so well that I don’t want to fuck it up. By “so well” I don’t even really
mean that well; I’m fine, just fine but it is a state that was formerly
unimaginable. So I’m sorry that I no longer take risks, because breaking down
scares me and I don’t want to think hard about the things that hurt. I’m sorry
to my readers, even more sorry to myself, because despite the divisive attitudes
about my blog, what everyone seems to agree with is that it does take a high
degree of vulnerability to do this well. I don’t think I’m doing this well
anymore. I can barely admit nowadays that someone’s hurt me and I am too scared
of screwing up other people’s lives to write honestly about mine.It’s easy to
judge people based on filtered information so trust me when I say that this is
not the whole story. The truth? This is part of it: I spent my Christmas night
telling Mark’s girlfriend what happened between us in July. He met me my
freshman spring and we’ve hooked up sporadically since, except she’s been around
for over a year and I didn’t have any idea she existed.

And in case you can't tell, I'm being sarcastic?

A Day Without Anything

So here I am again, "blogging." I hate that word, it makes me sound like more of a douchebag than I actually am. I don't even have anything to write about, except for this: today, for the first time in a very long time, I did absolutely nothing. Not one thing. I left my house just twice: first, to get a sandwich, second, to get a sleeping bag. (The two are unrelated.) Ah, but there is a reason for this nothingness: my neck refuses to move, like, at all. So I've just been looking forward and slightly down since I woke up. It made checking my blindspot totally impossible, because thats something I do ALL THE TIME.

So basically, I've just been propped up on the couchbed doing intertubespace things all day. I have traveled into the darkest distances of the blogosphere. I have masturbated, in the middle of the afternoon. You could quiz me on IvyGate, but not College Confidential as it is my firm opinion that that website is run by the devil, and boy does he ever have slanty eyes.

HEY! Speaking of college, its that time of year! So after, all that complaining I did (see any post in the October 2007 and November 2007 archives [Side Note: That feels like forever ago. {Let's be more emo, shall we?}]) And, I can certainly say I've been happier, but right now, this (as in all of this) feels very good. It feels like I'm being paid for having such a sad existence the past three and a half years. But, it still feels weird that high school is pretty much over. Granted, I definitely do not want to go back to school on Monday (especially after a seventeen day vacation DOOT) and this is really weird to say, but I couldn't imagine myself going to a different school. There I said it.

I promise that there will be better posts soon (Perhaps one of you would like to write one? What's that? You don't Why not? That's cool too, I guess). I will make it my blogduty to ensure that something zany happens in The Land of Magic. See the problem with blogging is, its just easier not to. That's not a statement of quitting because as I learned from the three episodes of America's Next Top Model today (Shut up, why do you watch it?) TBanks finds no human quality weaker than quitting. My neck still hurts.

Ponder this: Should I spend 50 dollars on a bathing suit at Mecca? (This is the intertubespace version of calling dibs) Because I don't have a bathing suit. And I'm classy.

P.S. If you're ever feeling sad, just Youtube search "golden retriever puppies." You will not be sorry.

P.P.S. If you're ever feeling horny, and want to be disappointed, just watch softcore porn from 1995 on Shotime. You will not be sorry.

I Don't Want Children Because I'm Afraid This Conversation Will Exist Again Thirty-Five Years from Now

Id A: hey
Schmelter: howdy
Schmelter: hey
Schmelter: this isnt ***REDACTED***
Id A: ok, its REDACTED's dad, REDACTED
Schmelter: hai
Id A: i just want to know if my son is involved in hardcore drugs because his mother and i found and dimebag of weed in his jeans today
Schmelter: ive known REDACTED for a long time now
Schmelter: and hes a good kid
Schmelter: yes hes doing drugs
Id A: oh god
Id A: what kind?
Id A: is he drinking?
Id A: if you didnt know, alcoholism runs in our family
Schmelter: srsly?
Id A: what does that mean? is that like this "LOL" i keep hearing about? i am a white man
Schmelter: nah
Schmelter: who drinks mad beers in the family?
Id A: well, my brother-in-law and my father was an alcoholic until he passed away two years ago
Schmelter: aw im sorry about your dad, your brother in law cleaned up i hope
Id A: after rehabilitation, twice
Id A: i am a white man\
Id A: pardon the, um, typographical error
Schmelter: well im glad hes clean.
Schmelter: your white?
Schmelter: is your wife black
Id A: yes, yes, i am a white man
Schmelter: b.c REDACTED is more of a mulatto
Id A: i am in business
Id A: REDACTED is adopted
Id A: my wife was infertile
Id A: ok, ok, REDACTED wasnt really adopted
Id A: REDACTED is a "love child"
Id A: i was having sex with my secretary
Id A: i am a white man
Id A: i am in business
Schmelter: ok stop
Schmelter: lol (Ed. note: Epiclullz)
Id A: oh, REDACTED is just now getting back from art
Id A: thank you for this information
Schmelter: np
Id A: why is my away message not up?
Id A: REDACTED, who were you talking to?
Id A: I AM A LOVE CHILD!!?!?!?!
Id A: OMG
Schmelter: yea sorry dude
Schmelter: your parents are whit
Schmelter: and you
Schmelter: RE
Id A: you were talking to my dad, the white businessman, werent you?
Schmelter: hes white
Schmelter: and in buisiness
Schmelter: i did not know that
Schmelter: OMG
Id A: IM HALF BLACK!!?!?!?!?!

Speaking of Parents A, yesterday, while talking about the financial crisis at the big HUGE securities firm Sister A works for, Dad A mentioned this woman Mom A was friends with in high school and how much money she must've lost. Mom A's response, and I quote: "Eh, she was a stuck-up bitch anyhow." So in case you were wondering why I iz the way I iz, you know which two people to go to. Also, this took much longer than I could have ever anticipated.