Themes for Your Convenience

24 02 2010

For when you just can’t think up your own or the deepest you can get to are “kissy face” or “pouty face”, you can enjoy this list of things to yell out the next time you meet up with your hip friends and want to spice up your facebook photography.

Many of these themes also make really good life mottos. Just FYI.

1. Giraffe stampede (you are a giraffe stampeding, you are being chased by a giraffe stampede, you see someone else being stampeded, etc.)

2. You’ve fallen from a great distance but on impact you wake up and it was just a dream.

3. Photosynthesis.

4. Cannibalism.

5. Cannonballism.

6. The Black Plague has affected your neighbors and you can hear their screams, but you still feel pretty confident in the rat traps you’ve surrounded your bedroom door with.

7. You’re OCD and accidentally touched a moldy sandwich.

8. You are a moldy sandwich.

9. Spa weekend and you just got your period.

10. You’ve just pulled what you assumed was a great April Fool’s Day joke, but now Jeff is dead.

11. Arm hair farmers.

12. Ants questioning their day-to-day.

13. You’ve been cast in a movie, but it has a nude scene.

14. You have a dream that your limbs have grown back, but you wake up and they haven’t.

15. Caught in a rainstorm/tornado/snowstorm/regional weather phenom.

16. You finally understand what you are actually calling someone when you call them a “douchebag.”

17. “Douchebag.”

18. You wish your Diet Cherry Coke was Cherry Coke.

19. The embodiment of hypoglycemia.

20. Purgatory.

21. Your hand is in the deep fryer.

22. You don’t want your friends to know that you like the smell of earwax.

23. You stood next to a celebrity for 5 whole minutes and didn’t say anything.

24. Smells like mulch in here.

25. You’re having an allergic reaction to your second favorite food.





Past Excursions into Imphotovising

19 02 2010

Some more pictures, some from last month, some from two + years ago, all chronicling my love for this practice.

2010

“You’re at a singles mixer for older people, you find yourself a little overimbibed to deal with the situation, and you’re trying to make conversation.”

“As powerful business gentlemen, you order some delicious veal to celebrate a job well done on the Johnson case.”

(Also, your friend is just embarrassed to be
seen with you.)


“Half fun, half earthquake.”

“The future has arrived and you can’t deal with it.”

“You are robots that have recently become self aware.”

2007 or 2008, who can tell?

“Washington crosses the Delaware.”

“You’re on a self-controlled roller coaster.”

“You’re at a very disappointing sausage fest.”

“You’re getting really sexually harrassy feeling.”

“Empathize with ugly people.”

“Japanese tourist on vacation in Illinois.”

“You’re at the zoo, making fun of the monkeys at the zoo, which causes everyone to look at you and challenges the binary of the zoo system in the first place.”

FIN.

Next up: some great examples so you too can start walking down this road, but won’t be frozen when asked to give a theme and get totally embarrassed in front of your more creative friends.





My Absolute Favorite Activity

19 02 2010

I love it more than watching TV.

I love it more than drinking.

I love it more than drinking and watching TV at the same time.

My favorite thing to do, and what I think everyone’s favorite thing to do should be is: taking themed pictures.

Improv + Photography + Narcissism = Hilarity for you and your friends, Mehlarity for your acquaintances, Jealousy from your frenemies who are clearly not as fun as you.

All you need to do is get a camera or webcam. Have several friends. Be in front of the camera. Call out totally random things and take a picture of your interpretation. Rinse. Repeat.

Some examples from a weekend of photographical debauchery and hard-to-obtain-levels-of-delusional-grandeur:

“You discovered electricity, but then you got electrocuted.”

“You live in Appalachia, and this is the first day you’ve ever seen or heard of the internet.”

“You sneeze in the midst of a very important corporate presentation. Deborah saw.”

“Said sneeze makes you so embarrassed that you puke everywhere. Including on Deborah.”

“You see a homeless orphan child on the road, who asks you for money.”

“After taking a class in the Religion department, you finally have your first interaction with God.”

“You can’t be entirely sure, but you’re pretty convinced your identity’s been stolen.”

“You’re a passenger aboard the good ship Titanic and you’ve just been informed that not only is the boat sinking, but the life rafts are full.”

(please note firstly how well we’re taking it,
and secondly, how much my Titanic sinking
face looks like my gross orphan face.)

More to come from less recent themed picture extravaganzas. Also, a list of themes to get you started on your own little adventure into being the center of your own universe.





Whoops, I forgot.

12 02 2010

It looks like “about two weeks” is the time it takes for both me to recover from Jersey Shore and for people to stop ending up on my blog because of J Woww boob searches.

And now J Woww boob will lead people here again. Vicious, vicious cycle.

In actuality, I took the last two weeks to reassess my life plan and subsequent life skillz. A few too many drunk dials and I took two weekends off of heavy drinking, which was pleasant, if boring.

Also, I applied to grad school. Because my assertion that “I will never go back to school” did not hold too much water. Like every gallon of milk I seem to buy, it didn’t lose all of its liquid, but I had to put the remaining liquid in a big bowl and drink it with a ladle, risking mysterious disease. (That doesn’t happen to anyone else?) So I decided that now, not later, should be the time for me to get a master’s so that later, not now, I can be a teacher. When I’m tired of LA and I want to live in the suburbs and still be vaguely relevant to a group of teenagers. That’s the game plan.

This all boils down to “I was too busy to write things down.” I started working 6 days a week. Not pretty. But kind of hilarious sometimes. The giggles that transpire when I can’t think straight.

But, I’m back. I’ve got some time and thoughts today and since, for whatever reason, the ENTIRE OFFICE IS NOT HERE, I will probably write some stuff today. It’s hard to write without Jersey Shore in my life. J Woww Boob.

Today’s lack of office reminds me of the opening scene of my favorite Northwestern student film and my magnum opus of acting, Vomorama. Which you can watch right now:





New Year’s Comparison

2 01 2010

I’ve been inspired by both reading through this old Livejournal of mine (in which every entry is either about a crush that I had or a party that I went to, which is kind of like reliving college through the eyes of the LAMEST PERSON ON EARTH. How were any of you guys friends with me, geez) and also by my new internetquaintance Be The Boy (who is endlessly entertaining and would probably cringe at these LAMEST PERSON ON EARTH entries).

These two things have inspired me to take a look at some old things I was thinking about during New Year’s pasts and see how they hold up to what I’m thinking about this New Year’s present.

I’d look into old resolutions, but I’ve only made one resolution in my whole life, and it was broken within two hours of New Year’s. Thus, I did not make any more.

INVESTIGATION: COMMENCE.

Before January 1, 2005, I looked back at 2004. Some things on my mind:

– Being in college for the first time.
– My brother being in the Marines.
– Having gotten major surgery that year.
– I got written up three times within like, 2 months of college? I did not remember this. Dennis the Menace.
– Generally balancing my high schooler tendencies with college expectations. I was a weirdo.

Before January 1, 2006, here’s what I was thinking about during 2005:

– My brother being in Iraq for a good chunk of the year. Scarifying.
– Creating and premiering my first film in college, Guerrilla Gorilla (which was well received, but was basically the film that almost wasn’t.)
– Joining a sorority. Laff laff laff, I still can’t believe that happened.
– Doing really insane things over the summer with my high school friends and liking them more after high school than I did during high school, which is still true. We went to the shore, Connecticut, and Canada.
– Being in crove with a billion people and apparently wanting a boyfriend really badly. For like, the whole year. So hilaribarrassing. Crove, of course, is more than a crush, less than a love. Crove.

Before Jan 1, 2007, I looked back at 2006:

– Spending 3 weeks over the summer in the hospital with the mystery disease. Turned out to be CMV, which it turns out most people just kind of have and it’s not a big deal. Not me!
– Participating in film, working on sets, being on the Studio 22 board. Making up for being an eff up frosh.
– Dropping out of my sorority. Short lived. Fun. An experience.
– Really not enjoying half of my roommates, particularly the pot head who literally stole my goldfish out of our house and kept him kidnapped at someone else’s house. I don’t think this kid ever graduated. And I don’t think I’m surprised.
– But, on the plus side, met one of my besties for life/the rest of college living in that house. Changed everything.

Before Jan 1, 2008, I looked back at 2007:

– Received a grant to make Slit and Commit. Living/breathing/sleeping the making of this movie. Loving and hating it all at the same time.
– Boyfriend dramz. Laffo.
– Living the dream with the roommates of Flop Haus 2.0.
– Turning 21. Loved it. So silly.
– Working for pay at The N for a couple of weeks. Also met the cast of Degrassi, basically rendering my life partially complete. At least my teenage hopes and dreams.

Before Jan 1, 2009, I looked back at 2008:

– Finishing, premiering, loving Slit and Commit. Cannes Film Festival, y’all.
– Graduating from Northwestern! Best and worst thing ever.
– Having a fantastic time finishing out college, doing ridiculous things, going to ridiculous parties, throwing ridiculous parties.
– Moving back home and starting to teach SAT prep class. Hilario Dawson in so many ways.
– Missing college, like whoa.

And finally, on January 1, 2010 (now January 2), I took a look back at 2009:

– Moving to LA. Biggest change in a long time. Still have mixed feelings.
– Still living at home for most of the year and honestly, really liking it, but knowing I had to peace out eventually.
– Trying, floundering at getting a real life, full time job. Will try harder in 2010.
– Working on the last day that the video store I worked at on and off for 8 years was still in business. Sad times. Except for all of the free DVDs I got.
– Having a great time making new friends and reconnecting with old friends. Bringing on a whole new bout of missing college, natch.

So, a good time was had by most during these last six years. Mostly all that has changed is my age. Hopefully a little more mature. Looking forward to a lot more good times with all of these people I’ve met. I like you guys.





First Ten Memories of the Decade

27 12 2009

As in, one memory per year of the decade. In chronological order. Not the most important memories or the best or the worst, but the first thing I remember about each of the years involved.

AKA, a completely arbitrary list, my favorite.

THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND IN…

2000. I graduated from 8th grade in 2000 and I remember that there were 83 kids in my grade (I think), we all had to wear light colored dresses, and that there was a huge debate about whether Vitamin C’s “Graduation” or Green Day’s “Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)” should be our graduation song. Green Day won because someone could play it on the guitar, but then you couldn’t hear the guitar anyway. Also this one girl got her period and it went right through her dress into a puddle on her chair and it was probably the most embarrassing day of her life, but I think we all learned a valuable lesson about wide set vaginas and heavy flows that day. Also, about tampons.

2001. Freshman/Sophomore year of high school. This was the first year that I kissed a boy outside of a game of spin the bottle (which I continued to play throughout college and really, hope to play for the rest of my life.) It was super awkward. There was a Spongebob Squarepants marathon involved and a day sledding at the high school and a bout of wrestling. A lot of this encounter may explain a lot of things about me, including my love of Spongebob and also my love of challenging people to wrestling matches. I also kissed a boy at New Year’s that year. In one scenario, I stomped on someone’s heart. In the other, I got my heart stomped on. 2001 was a really tough year for several reasons, those included.

2002. Sophomore/Junior year of high school. While doing my six hours of driving to get my license that year, my driving instructor was nuts. He asked if he could smoke while we were driving. We had to stop at a gas station and fill the car up with oil, which it was leaking. We went to another driving school’s course to learn how to parallel park. A car from that driving school showed up, and my teacher was like, “We have to leave. Now. NOW!” He basically got stared down by the other car while we were leaving. Once slammed on the breaks while I was driving and said I had to be prepared for everything (including, apparently, a driving instructor slamming on his breaks). So. Effing. Weird.

2003. Junior/Senior year of high school. I remember very specifically getting my SAT scores in the mail and not being able to add the numbers in my head, so when my parents said “Sarah!” I couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing. Only when my mom said the number outloud did I realize that a) it was a good thing and b) it was highly ironic/pathetic that I did so well in math and did not have the math skillz to decipher how well I did. It was the start of a lingering suspicion among many relatives and friends that I might actually be an idiot savant.

2004. Senior year of high school/Freshman year of college. Right before high school graduation, a few of my friends and I went down to our shorehouse to have fun. I’m pretty sure my cousin bought me alcohol – first and last time. Over the course of the few days, we were invited to a party at the house at the end of our street. We attended and realized about half way through that it was a party being thrown by a bunch of police officers. Being 18 (or 17 in some cases), we decided it was definitely in our best interest to stay at this party, do Irish car bombs with these cops, and try to coerce many of the cops into taking pictures with us. In true Jersey Shore form, this is not even the dumbest thing we’ve ever participated in down there, but it was epic to our high school lives. Also constituted perhaps the 3rd time I ever drank in high school, which contributed to a very messy freshman year of college.

2005. Freshman/Sophomore year of college. In the spring of 2005, I convinced friends to both punch me in the face and hit me with their car (very low speed, no worries). For getting punched in the face and refusing to tell my RA why I had a black eye, I was sent to psychological counseling and had to explain to the head of housing why, exactly, I had asked someone to punch me in the face. I was written up. I was told statistics about how many women get abused and murdered in Chicago every year. I was told that I should have just used make up if I had wanted to see what a black eye was like. But, I was happy. Also, I have been punch free since 2005.

2006. Sophomore/Junior year of college. The summer I almost died from a mysterious virus a la a House episode. Still got full credit for my internship, despite missing almost an entire month of work – good thing, since I really needed that .25 credit to graduate (PSYCH. Pointless.) My most clear memory of those weeks in the hospital is that I was in the children’s wing despite being 20. And was prescribed anti-depressants that I refused to take for the following reasons – 1. I had not gotten out of bed in a week. 2. I had not had any visitors beside my parents in a week. 3. I had had the blinds drawn for a week. Reasons why I refused to take them: 1. I could not get out of bed because I had an IV in both arms and couldn’t really “move around.” 2. I was in the ICU, where no one besides your parents were allowed to visit. 3. The sun shone directly into my eyeballs if the blinds were not drawn. There were a lot of choice words exchanged that I later regretted. But to be fair, my doctor also said that depression was not really my main problem when they still didn’t know what was wrong with me. Well-intentioned AND r-tarded.

2007. Junior/Senior year of college. I spent my 21st birthday with my best gays at a lesbian bar, where we basically harassed a lesbian named Sherri who very clearly wanted to be left alone. We bought her drinks and got her wasted while getting wasted ourselves. Later, I got shots while on line for the unisex bathroom once I realized that answering “I don’t know” to the question “Are you into girls?” is a surefire way to never pay for drinks at a lesbian bar. Danced with a big black lady named Choppa who proclaimed, “For a white girl, you sure got moves” which remains to this day one of the nicest compliments I have ever received. She wrote her number on a napkin and told me to call her. I did not.

2008. Senior year of college/Freshman year of life. The best party we ever had at Flop Haus was Paul’s and my engagement party. Not only did Paul propose to me on stage at the premiere of all the films we made that year, we later had a totally ridiculous, totally fun party where we even received presents. I believe our friend James gave us 37 cents, and Jackie made us a wedding mix which I lost for a full year, and then recently found in my room. There was a make out contest. There was a dance party. There was spin the bottle. There were a lot of ridiculous pictures and a lot of things that I can’t actually remember, but all contributed to one of the most fun nights of college. In fact, concluded my suspicions that spring quarter of senior year is the only reason that most people miss college; best three months of my life.

2009. Freshman/Sophomore year of life. While working at the video store with Travis one night, this lady came in and talked to us for at least an hour about a book she was writing about a string of murders that had taken place in our town in the 70s. I had never heard of these before, but she insisted that they were all committed by the same person – her husband at the time. She said that he used to sleep with a machete under his pillow, had gone crazy from being in Vietnam, and had tried to kill her several times. All of the bodies were killed using a machete. She was writing a book about it and promised to give us a copy of it, but then did not leave any sort of way to contact her. Super random, super creepy, and left us wondering if maybe she was actually the murderer and was just telling us the story so that we would not suspect her. Particularly after she used me as an example of “exactly the kind of girl that got murdered.” Too bad Clerks exists, because Village Video is ripe for a movie.

Altogether, a good decade.





The Case of the Unclaimed Vomit

29 10 2009

In my effort to reinvigorate my abilities to “blog” and “document” and “beat the unemployment boredom”, this story is one I meant to write about a month ago, when it first happened and when it was still a big mystery. Correction: it still IS a big mystery, but not necessarily one that I think about anymore.

Which is probably good, because I believe I think about throw-up far too often.

The Crime Scene: Ms. Lady’s apartment. Ridge and Davis. Heavenston.

The Set Up: Several friends who have not seen each other in months, some in nearly a year, are gathered for a reunion of sorts. Like any good reunion, this reunion involves yelling and screaming into all hours of the morning and attempting to stay up drinking until 9 AM, when the Lady of the House has to leave to attend the first class of the school year. Flawed? Certainly. But some of us died trying. We made it pretty far into the night. Visits from other people we’ve known throughout our college years peppered the evening, replete with a lot of random pictures taken on a Nintendo DSi, of all things. There was singing. There was dancing. There was a secret tryst or three. There. Was. Chaos.

Circa 6 AM, all of the non-sleepover revelers had dispersed back to their selected homes and those left were the travelers staying over. We all survived another hour or two staying up. The Brothers Maguire passed out first. I stayed up with Ms. Lady until she actually did “pull herself together” (quotes because the effort was strong, but ultimately, not great) and go to class. Thus, I went to sleep around 9 AM, when she was gone and everyone else slumbering.

Dilemma: Sometime between that 9 AM parting and re-awakening around 1 PM to pee, someone in our midsts puked all over the bathroom.

And I don’t mean a little bit. I mean like, swamp conditions. You sunk my battleship sort of puke. It was everywhere. Too drunk/tired/confused/disgusted to do anything about it, I left it, used all of my leg muscles to pee without touching the puke, and went back to my spot on the futon.

Around 4 or 5 pm, everyone woke up and suddenly, the vomit was not as easy to ignore. This is a 3 BR, 1 Bath set-up, my friends. There is only so long that a bathroom can be out of commission with insides debris. After the Lady of the House cleaned up, the question still remained: who woke up in the middle of the night (or mid-morning, to most people), puked all over the place without waking anyone, left it without even an attempt to clean it, went back to bed, and then completely forgot about it?

The case was afoot.

Suspects:

1. Myself. I DIDN’T DO IT. Not only did I not eat enough to do all of that biz, I was asleep last, awake first, and apparently starting to sober up by the time 9 AM rolled around. Also I would’ve at least wiped the seat off. Probably would have left the peripheries as they were, but the seat would’ve been sittable.

2. Lady of the House. Doesn’t remember it. Went to class during the time that she would’ve puked. Although, curiously, she never made it to class and returned from her full day of classes circa 11 AM after giving up on going to class and having brunch with a homeless man instead. Curious indeed. She had the food. She had the time frame. But why wouldn’t she clean up her own bathroom? It doesn’t quite add up.

3. Brother #2. Passed out first, woke up last. Slept through at least 2 hours of conversation taking place right next to him. Didn’t feel this kid even roll over in his sleep on the futon, let alone get up and puke and come back down. Unlikely.

4. Brother #1. Our main suspect. Not the kind of kid who would ever clean up his own puke. Also definitely the kind of kid who pukes everywhere (one time while we were roommates he puked all over his bed and instead of cleaning it up, just put his sheets in a garbage bag and went back to sleep. Left the garbage bag in front of a fan to waft the smell throughout the rest of the house. Awesome). Spilled a glass of wine all over himself and the Lady’s bed and continued to sleep in it that very night. But does not remember vom-ing.

5. The roommate. This kid’s a wildcard. Everyone had just met him. He went to a bar for a long time and then came back – who knows what he could have eaten and dranken there? Pretty sure he puked at the bar though, so would he have had the stamina to continue to puke later in the evening? Seemed to stay in his bedroom throughout the evening. Claims it wasn’t him. Hard to tell.

6. The mystery roommate. In my four days at this apartment, I did not see the third roommate once. Is it possible that she came home for a few hours, puked, didn’t clean it up because she knew she could get away with it, and then left again? Possumbly. Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t rule it out, and neither will Sherlock Hayden.

Case Status: Still unsolved. No one will admit to it. The Lady of the House eventually cleaned it up (why was she so comfortable cleaning up the vomit unless it was her own HMMMM?) and the day continued eventually. All fingers point to Brother #1, even though he will deny it up and down. That shit-eating grin and past experience with projectile lots-of-things-ing in beds/bathrooms/bushes make it a little tough to believe this repeat offender.

All suggestions to solving the case welcome.