1. If it's posted on the internet, people care: If it's not, people don't. So you're that guy who constantly buys disposable cameras and develops a dozen rolls of film per week. That's great for you. But before you even show me a single photograph you've taken--it may be of your house, or your pets, or your children, or my children, or the Grand Canyon, or the pope, or the original Leo strut--I can tell you right off the bat that it's already been tossed into the category of I-don't-give-a-crap. However, if you upload it to an album on Facebook, I'll look at it. Multiple times. With genuine fascination, even. Yes, regardless of the subject matter. I've spent hours flipping through peoples' landscape pictures from their pointless vacations to who-the-shit-knows. No, I don't know what possessed this person to upload a picture of a some snow on a mountain. Yes, I want to look at it anyway. And you've done this too, so don't lie. The same goes for conversations. If it's small-talk coming from the table behind me in a diner, I want you to shut up. If it's the same exact small-talk, entirely verbatim, on someone's wall, I'll probably end up reading every word of it.
2. Someone is always free: Since the day you created a Facebook account, you were no longer allowed to use the excuse, "I couldn't find plans." If you're home alone on a Saturday night, it's either because A) you made the conscious decision to spend the night watching reruns on Hulu, or B) you were too lazy to type the word "Plans" followed by a question mark into your status bar. The greatest thing about this one is that it's like sending out a who's-free poll to everyone you know. Except it's better, because then you get to choose the person who sucks the least.
3. Alarm clocks are outdated: Meaning you don't need one if you've got Facebook. In the same way that someone's always free, someone's always awake. If you need to be up at six AM, you put it on your status and bam, you've got one personal wake-up call. If you need to be up at one PM, you put it on your status and bam, you've got eight personal wake-up calls. Which is probably for the best, because I typically sleep through half of them anyway.
4. You don't have pictures until you have chick friends: I've spent countless hours with the metalheads-- playing Super Smash Bros, watching them play Super Smash Bros, watching mindless television, watching them watch mindless television, at crappy metal shows, playing ultimate frisbee, quoting the GI Joe PSAs--and not one minute of this time was ever documented. Why? Because I was the only female present, and, in society's eyes, I was not a proper female until I received a digital camera for Christmas this past year. Perhaps I'm still not a proper female, because I positively never have it with me. As a result, before my first year of college, the only pictures that would pop up on Facebook were A) pictures from large parties, where there were girls present, and B) pictures from high school, where there were girls present. This is not an accurate portrayal of my life and the things I do in my free time, as an acquaintance might jump straight to the simple conclusion that I am always A) at large parties, or B) at high school. Which is A) really badass, and B) not so badass.
5. Old people are funnier than we thought: Specifically because this is the one place where they do not know more than us. Technology as a whole is the one thing that our generation is impeccable at, and old people can't even attempt to hold a candle to us. Of course they're going to lecture about it, saying things like, "You kids spend all your time staring at a screen," and "Do you have to text people twenty-four hours a day?" First off, yes. Secondly, what they really mean is, "I am unbearably jealous that, in the time it would've taken me to pick up my ghetto house phone, flip through the address book, locate a number, call it, and ask a friend to come over and knit with me, you could have already notified every last person in your contacts list, and half of them would have already gotten in their cars by now. Which are notably faster than our horse-drawn carriages." Basically, after having to endure these and similar conversations countless times over, it's fun to watch old people attempt to use the internet. Specifically those who unintentionally post on their own walls and don't know how to delete Farmville notifications, and type in all caps and sign their names at the bottom of picture comments even though Facebook's major selling point is the fact that everything you do or say is preceded by your full name in bold, blue, cannot-physically-overlook-this text.
6. Your self-esteem does not have to be low: Absolutely everyone has those days where shit goes horribly wrong, and people say heartless things to you, and you need to be reminded that people actually like you. Even if they don't, Facebook's got the ability to trick you into thinking that they do. Here's how you can use this to your advantage:
1. Launch the internet browser of your choice.
2. Open two tabs. In one of them, navigate to Facebook. In the other, navigate to IMDb.
3. Think of the most mainstream, overly-quoted, unbearably-popular film you've seen in the past several years. Suggestions: Anchorman, The Matrix, Lord of the Rings, Wedding Crashers, School of Rock, Anything by Tim Burton, Spider-man, OR (overrides the last-several-years-rule) any 80's-90's old school animated Disney movie (preferably pinpoint a specific lyric from a specific song).
4. Search said movie, copy quote, paste it into your status.
5. Note inflation of ego while you receive shittons of notifications.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
13 Things College Has Taught Me
I got back to Massapequa last night. I unloaded my entire dorm room into the garage, and I'm here for three months. Freshman year was one huge kick to the ass, and I've learned way more in ten months somewhere else than I had in eighteen years here. Here's a list of the thirteen most important:
2). Procrastination ruins your life: This statement is not original, nor is it news to anyone. We've been learning this since elementary school, but no one ever thinks twice about pulling a project out of their ass the night before its due. Procrastination worked fine for me all throughout high school, so I figured college would be the same thing. It's seriously not. When there's a thousand-some-odd barely-legal kids living within such close proximities, there's always going to be those friends throwing snowballs at your window tempting you with promises of forts and inappropriate R-rated ice-sculptures, and there's always going to be that reckless jackass offering to deliver shots of vodka to your room in a sketchy backpack. If you're stuck doing a paper because it's due the next morning, you simply cannot partake. If you get it done as soon as it's assigned, however, you never have to feel guilty about molding genitalia out of snow. I'm not simply telling you to be responsible. I'm telling you to be responsible so you can be irresponsible later.
3). Stop comparing school to home: If there's any one thing that has made itself painfully apparent during my freshman year, it is that Pennsylvania is not New York. New York is not Pennsylvania. The two are not even remotely similar. The people are not even remotely similar. It is a different planet. My first semester there, I was miserable. People were actually polite and I was forced to question their motives. People did everything like there was all the time in the world. People were seemingly okay with the fact that much of Collegeville's population was comprised of cows and other assorted farm animals. People were even seemingly okay with the fact that someone named said town 'Collegeville.' My high school is huge; my college is barely existent. My friends at home are metal-heads; my friends at school are Asians. I went to ska shows in New York; I went to WaWa in Pennsylvania. I was constantly trying to mesh the two together, to find some sort of balance or middle-ground, and it took me almost six months to realize that they are just not comparable. I could never be happy if I was constantly thinking about what I missed back home, so it's best to just take them both for what they are, to act as though you've got two separate lives, and to be content with the one that's in front of you.
4). Do not forget your roots: Even though I've placed PA and NY into two entirely different categories, that does not mean that I forgot where I came from. I'm always going to be vulgar and impatient. I'm always going to get shit for the way I say 'coffee,' 'water,' and 'radiator.' The Yankees are still superior to every team ever. I still like when tap water tastes like chemicals and people refer to sandwiches as 'sandwiches,' not goddamn hoagies. And when everyone from all over the place is tossed into the same middle-of-nowhere town, those are the kinds of things that stick out. You're better off just embracing the traits that cause the most friction, because those are the things that make people interesting in the first place.
5). Your enemies do not have to be your enemies: Do not get the wrong idea here. I love fighting with people. It's one of the most enjoyable things I can think of. Verbally ripping someone to shreds is probably the most satisfying thing ever. But there comes a point where you're just sick of hating someone, and you can't escape them, and all it does is just weigh you down. The state of your mood depends on whether or not you're stuck in their presence, and it's just a shitty time all around. In all honesty, I'm stubborn as shit, and this was the toughest thing for me to do: Just let it go. Every single person on the face of this earth--I don't care who they are unless it's Bob Saget--has some kind of redeeming qualities. Focus on those, and just make peace until you can fully and entirely separate yourself. It's just a lot of weight off your shoulders.
6). Life is not reliable: In the span of a month, I lost one of my closest friends, I lost someone who's been by me my entire life, and I came exceptionally close to losing the one person whom I need more than anyone. And at the same time, I'm better for having experienced all three. I'm learning that the things you have right now may be pulled out from under you the very next second, because nothing is ever permanent. Appreciate the people you have around you, and let them know that you appreciate them. Most importantly, never, ever let stupid shit get in the way, because more often than not, we don't get second chances.
7). Crying is liberating: On a similar note, when the shit hits the fan and there's nothing you can do about it, go cry somewhere. Go to a baseball field and bawl your eyes out and rip up grass or something. Throw a temper-tantrum like a little kid in a supermarket who really fucking wants that colorful name-brand cereal. I know it sounds like a pansy thing to do, but in all honesty, you just feel better. Your heads clearer. You can actually think. You can actually sleep.
8). Befriend your RA: I'm serious about this one. It just may be the smartest thing you ever do. Think about it: Your RA is the person who has the ability to get you in trouble. It's the person who knows all the rules, but also how to successfully break them. It's the person whose room is most-likely huge, and probably pretty close to yours. Not only did I receive endless vacuum privileges, I also
3). Stop comparing school to home: If there's any one thing that has made itself painfully apparent during my freshman year, it is that Pennsylvania is not New York. New York is not Pennsylvania. The two are not even remotely similar. The people are not even remotely similar. It is a different planet. My first semester there, I was miserable. People were actually polite and I was forced to question their motives. People did everything like there was all the time in the world. People were seemingly okay with the fact that much of Collegeville's population was comprised of cows and other assorted farm animals. People were even seemingly okay with the fact that someone named said town 'Collegeville.' My high school is huge; my college is barely existent. My friends at home are metal-heads; my friends at school are Asians. I went to ska shows in New York; I went to WaWa in Pennsylvania. I was constantly trying to mesh the two together, to find some sort of balance or middle-ground, and it took me almost six months to realize that they are just not comparable. I could never be happy if I was constantly thinking about what I missed back home, so it's best to just take them both for what they are, to act as though you've got two separate lives, and to be content with the one that's in front of you.
4). Do not forget your roots: Even though I've placed PA and NY into two entirely different categories, that does not mean that I forgot where I came from. I'm always going to be vulgar and impatient. I'm always going to get shit for the way I say 'coffee,' 'water,' and 'radiator.' The Yankees are still superior to every team ever. I still like when tap water tastes like chemicals and people refer to sandwiches as 'sandwiches,' not goddamn hoagies. And when everyone from all over the place is tossed into the same middle-of-nowhere town, those are the kinds of things that stick out. You're better off just embracing the traits that cause the most friction, because those are the things that make people interesting in the first place.
5). Your enemies do not have to be your enemies: Do not get the wrong idea here. I love fighting with people. It's one of the most enjoyable things I can think of. Verbally ripping someone to shreds is probably the most satisfying thing ever. But there comes a point where you're just sick of hating someone, and you can't escape them, and all it does is just weigh you down. The state of your mood depends on whether or not you're stuck in their presence, and it's just a shitty time all around. In all honesty, I'm stubborn as shit, and this was the toughest thing for me to do: Just let it go. Every single person on the face of this earth--I don't care who they are unless it's Bob Saget--has some kind of redeeming qualities. Focus on those, and just make peace until you can fully and entirely separate yourself. It's just a lot of weight off your shoulders.
6). Life is not reliable: In the span of a month, I lost one of my closest friends, I lost someone who's been by me my entire life, and I came exceptionally close to losing the one person whom I need more than anyone. And at the same time, I'm better for having experienced all three. I'm learning that the things you have right now may be pulled out from under you the very next second, because nothing is ever permanent. Appreciate the people you have around you, and let them know that you appreciate them. Most importantly, never, ever let stupid shit get in the way, because more often than not, we don't get second chances.
7). Crying is liberating: On a similar note, when the shit hits the fan and there's nothing you can do about it, go cry somewhere. Go to a baseball field and bawl your eyes out and rip up grass or something. Throw a temper-tantrum like a little kid in a supermarket who really fucking wants that colorful name-brand cereal. I know it sounds like a pansy thing to do, but in all honesty, you just feel better. Your heads clearer. You can actually think. You can actually sleep.
8). Befriend your RA: I'm serious about this one. It just may be the smartest thing you ever do. Think about it: Your RA is the person who has the ability to get you in trouble. It's the person who knows all the rules, but also how to successfully break them. It's the person whose room is most-likely huge, and probably pretty close to yours. Not only did I receive endless vacuum privileges, I also
- was permitted to stay in her room when she was not present
- learned of loopholes and how to accurately manipulate them
- adopted her old shoes/clothes/bags
- missed hall meetings without [much] consequence
- accompanied her to parties/got to meet some really awesome kids
- had someone credible on my side while fighting with people
- got to feel badass when I gave someone of authority the middle finger
9). People have no shame: so don't exhaust yourself trying to judge them. Girls will wear dresses that wouldn't effectively cover a toddler. Couples will dry hump against walls in perfectly-lit rooms. People will throw up on you. College typically translates to "I do not care about the consequences of this action," so quit being surprised. No one really cares if you disapprove, anyway.
10). Routine is key: The best way to feel at home somewhere that's not home is to find a routine and stick to it. Find friends who are always reliable, find a spot to hang out/study, and find a cyclical and balanced schedule of homework and hackysack/stumbleupon/guitar. The faster you establish some kind of drill, the faster you can feel like you belong there.
11). Television makes you socially retarded: Self explanatory.
12). Move-in day is the worst day ever. Move-out day is not: Move-in day is hot and sweaty and gross and there's stairs and countless things to carry, and then your parents leave you there and you have no friends and you do your best to unpack everything you own and then you just sit on your bed and reflect on how much your life sucks right now. You spend a year getting acquainted with classes, professors, friends, and yourself, and somewhere down the line, things cease sucking so hard. By move-out day, you've learned how to efficiently pack up your things in neat, rectangular cases, so everything fits like Tetris in your car. You've learned everyone's name in your hall, and it's way less lonely while everyone's stuff is waiting in the hallway. Most importantly, you've got people to say goodbye to, and things to look forward to, and a Neil and a Michelle and a Jong and a Kelsey and a Steve to help you move your whole dorm out to the parking lot.
13). Going away is the best thing you'll ever do: Not only does it give you a fresh perspective on things and a new panorama to look at, it makes you appreciate the people and places you left behind. It tosses you into an experience and that's it--you're stuck there, so you've got no choice but to make progress. You've got no choice but to change your habits and yourself. It makes you realize that the world is nowhere near as small as you thought it was, and the problems you always thought were big are infinitesimal in comparison. You realize that no one's got it figured out any more than you do, and the best thing you can do is try to experience everything that gets thrown in your general direction. Also, curfews are non-existent and stuff.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Words I love
So my first post was about words I hated, and there was a significant amount of ranting and vulgarity and angst. On the flip-side, though, there's tons of words I sincerely appreciate--words that are just so perfect and explanatory that if these words didn't exist, there would be positively no alternate way of saying what you wanted to. Here's the list so far:
Shit-ton: This term should be annexed into math/science textbooks as a legitimate and functional unit of measurement. Why? It's an end-all to every quantity question ever. Observe:
Your mom: How many people were at your jazz band concert?
You: I dunno. A lot.
Your mom: Well, how much is a lot?
You: I don't know. I didn't count them.
Your mom: Well, if you had to guess.
You: A shit-ton.
Your mom: Based on the information you have just provided me with, I was able to conclude that if there are sixteen members in the jazz band (3 trombonists + 5 saxophonists + 1 pianist + 2 percussionists +1 flutist + 3 trumpeters + 1 bassist) and every member brings approximately two parents and one friend, there are four dozen individuals in the audience. One must also account for that one specific person who always invites his four sisters, two brothers, extended family (two grandparents, aunt, uncle, twice-removed adopted cousin who is visiting from Indonesia) and neighbor. Then, on average, there are eight and a half senior citizens who attend free college-band events (the 1/2 because he or she is too senile to stay awake) and this brings our total to 68.5 attendees. Your answer was detailed and abundant; I thank you for this riveting conversation, and here's an extra $40 to add to your allowance this week.
Now I know what you're thinking. That scenario is a tad bit unrealistic. Why? Because I didn't specify whether the unit of "shit-ton" was standard or metric. To that I say, "Both. Simultaneously." That's how awesome this word is.
Spew: I love this word because it's just so visual. I don't particularly think that there's any word in the English language that can match its genius, but the thesaurus futilely suggests: belch, bring up, cascade, disgorge, eject, eruct, erupt, expel, flood, gush, heave, irrupt, puke, regurgitate, scatter, spit, spit up, spread, spritz, throw up, urp, vomit. Now picture this scenario: You're sitting at your computer around eleven o'clock at night. You're on the chan. You're shoving your face with Cheetos and Gatorade because it's the only thing you have in your house and your existence is pitiful. The following image comes up on your screen:
Gatorade had previously been making its way down your throat, but now you've gone and spewed it out of every orifice from the neck up. Analyze that list of supposed synonyms, momentarily switch them in where the word 'spewed' was, and see if you get anywhere as vivid of an image. Or you could take my word for it, because you won't get anywhere as vivid of an image.
Shenanigans: This word is vague, but I'm pretty sure that's the point. It's ambiguous enough that you don't know what's coming, but you can almost always assume that it will involve A) flammable materials, B) tranquilizer darts, C) cop cars, D) alcoholic beverages, E) explosives, F) concussed people, G) the removal and trade of human organs, H) All of the aforementioned as well as any other object that would expectedly be confiscated by airport security. If you ask someone what they're up to, and they respond with "Shenanigans," either get in on that shit (to avoid becoming the target) or remove yourself from the premises.
Asshat: There's tons of threats and insults that include "ass" and/or the act of shoving something there. Asshole, assface, shove it up your ass, my foot in your ass (© Red Forman). Perhaps the most effective, however, is when the threat/insult includes (rather than an external object) a part of the target being shoved up the target's ass. This is perhaps more degrading, as it assumes a complete lack of control of one's own appendages/parts, and therefore absolute helplessness. You could take the time to stand there and explain to the person, "I am going to shove your head so far up your ass, you will (place witty effect of ass-shoving here)." Or, you could simply save your breath and call someone an Asshat, which UrbanDictionary describes as, "One who has his head up his ass. Thus wearing his ass as a hat. Asshat." Effective, graphic, and to-the-point.
Angst: The thesaurus says: Weltschmerz, agony, apprehension, blues, depression, dread, mid-life crisis, misgiving, nervousness, uneasiness. I don't know that the hell Weltschmerz is (if I had to guess, I'd put my money on a Crayola color in the Crayola 800ct box--a sort of mix between mustard yellow and pea-soup green) but the rest of these words do not even do it justice. Angst is a perfect visual of an emo kid in a dark corner, Mussolini when he knew he was fucked after he was captured near Lago Di Como, this cat:
Words like "agony" and "misgiving" and "depression" do not even come close.
Shit-ton: This term should be annexed into math/science textbooks as a legitimate and functional unit of measurement. Why? It's an end-all to every quantity question ever. Observe:
Your mom: How many people were at your jazz band concert?
You: I dunno. A lot.
Your mom: Well, how much is a lot?
You: I don't know. I didn't count them.
Your mom: Well, if you had to guess.
You: A shit-ton.
Your mom: Based on the information you have just provided me with, I was able to conclude that if there are sixteen members in the jazz band (3 trombonists + 5 saxophonists + 1 pianist + 2 percussionists +1 flutist + 3 trumpeters + 1 bassist) and every member brings approximately two parents and one friend, there are four dozen individuals in the audience. One must also account for that one specific person who always invites his four sisters, two brothers, extended family (two grandparents, aunt, uncle, twice-removed adopted cousin who is visiting from Indonesia) and neighbor. Then, on average, there are eight and a half senior citizens who attend free college-band events (the 1/2 because he or she is too senile to stay awake) and this brings our total to 68.5 attendees. Your answer was detailed and abundant; I thank you for this riveting conversation, and here's an extra $40 to add to your allowance this week.
Now I know what you're thinking. That scenario is a tad bit unrealistic. Why? Because I didn't specify whether the unit of "shit-ton" was standard or metric. To that I say, "Both. Simultaneously." That's how awesome this word is.
Spew: I love this word because it's just so visual. I don't particularly think that there's any word in the English language that can match its genius, but the thesaurus futilely suggests: belch, bring up, cascade, disgorge, eject, eruct, erupt, expel, flood, gush, heave, irrupt, puke, regurgitate, scatter, spit, spit up, spread, spritz, throw up, urp, vomit. Now picture this scenario: You're sitting at your computer around eleven o'clock at night. You're on the chan. You're shoving your face with Cheetos and Gatorade because it's the only thing you have in your house and your existence is pitiful. The following image comes up on your screen:
Shenanigans: This word is vague, but I'm pretty sure that's the point. It's ambiguous enough that you don't know what's coming, but you can almost always assume that it will involve A) flammable materials, B) tranquilizer darts, C) cop cars, D) alcoholic beverages, E) explosives, F) concussed people, G) the removal and trade of human organs, H) All of the aforementioned as well as any other object that would expectedly be confiscated by airport security. If you ask someone what they're up to, and they respond with "Shenanigans," either get in on that shit (to avoid becoming the target) or remove yourself from the premises.
Asshat: There's tons of threats and insults that include "ass" and/or the act of shoving something there. Asshole, assface, shove it up your ass, my foot in your ass (© Red Forman). Perhaps the most effective, however, is when the threat/insult includes (rather than an external object) a part of the target being shoved up the target's ass. This is perhaps more degrading, as it assumes a complete lack of control of one's own appendages/parts, and therefore absolute helplessness. You could take the time to stand there and explain to the person, "I am going to shove your head so far up your ass, you will (place witty effect of ass-shoving here)." Or, you could simply save your breath and call someone an Asshat, which UrbanDictionary describes as, "One who has his head up his ass. Thus wearing his ass as a hat. Asshat." Effective, graphic, and to-the-point.
Angst: The thesaurus says: Weltschmerz, agony, apprehension, blues, depression, dread, mid-life crisis, misgiving, nervousness, uneasiness. I don't know that the hell Weltschmerz is (if I had to guess, I'd put my money on a Crayola color in the Crayola 800ct box--a sort of mix between mustard yellow and pea-soup green) but the rest of these words do not even do it justice. Angst is a perfect visual of an emo kid in a dark corner, Mussolini when he knew he was fucked after he was captured near Lago Di Como, this cat:
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