Catoptrophobe Nightmare

Name:
Location: New York, New York, United States

Misfit. Renegade. Law Student.

Monday, January 31, 2005

Mind-blowing? Or bull? Discuss.

Whaddya iPod fans think o' this? What's up now, cyborgs?!

Friday, January 28, 2005

Even chimps have a boiling point, bitch.

Studies like this make me happy, because they help me feel a little bit better when I feel like I'm being petty. I mean, injustice is injustice, so I should speak up even if I think I'm being nitpicky, right? It's instinctive, maybe? Even if someone that I admire and love says something ignorant and I have to call them on it, making me feel guilty and awkward I should do it so I can look at myself in the mirror (gasp!) in the morning, right? Cool.

Wednesday, January 26, 2005

elusive, exclusive, ivory tower academy

You know what I'm talking about. You aren't really too excited to go out, but you do. You "take one for the team." And so tonight I went out to support my lovely friends' band, (which is great, by the way) but I just wasn't up for it. And I'll tell you why (of course).

1) It was an 'off' night. I was expecting certain things to happen that didn't. I thought that this guy that I dig a little would be there. I thought that I'd get a chance to hang out with one of my best friends. No surprises. But when I got to the club, the boy was not there, the best friend was kinda wasted, and as a result, I couldn't talk to her about much of anything. Also, there were *so* many worlds of acquaintances colliding (people visiting from out of town, people that live waaaay uptown, people from law school) that I couldn't introduce everyone to one another/catch up properly with anyone, and it was kinda awkward (at least in my warped mind). Basically, nothing was happening in the comfortable, predictable way that I'd been counting on to bring me out of my funk.

2) I found out today that one of the classes that I'd worked really, really hard at and thought I'd done very well in, did not give me my first longed for A. It made me pretty sad that I didn't get the A, but I think it's worse that I care so much. I've always worked very hard in order to get the good grades, get the scholarships, get into the good middle school, high school, college, law school, and I did it all. Perhaps this elite school is a bit out of reach for me, too much to handle. Crap. I mean, I'm whining, but I guess I know I'm lucky? The name value of the school alone should be enough for me to go on and do whatever I want to do with my lawyering skills (or so I've been told; does anyone else out there feel like a whole lot of people LIED about what law school would be?) But seriously. What exactly is this all for? What is my purpose?

Saturday, January 22, 2005

the more sober of the three...

mmm...where should we start? should we start with the first percussionist, who looked like Papa Scinicariello? or the second, who looked like Scooby from the drum circle? right now, I'm listening to one of Thurston Moore's solo efforts, the name of which fully escapes me. But the real inquiry is, why the fuck do I only meet crazy bastards, who can't relate to me?

Oh, wait. It's

Let's abandon that thread. Let's move on. Let's be gregarious and generous. Lovely, we are. So.

Yeah.

Okay.

(I'm so into the spacing right now.)

(Everything needs to breathe.) "Waiting to Exhale." Haaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh...

I also like elipses.
...

oh. i just brought this into the twenty-first century. i love the technology!

Friday, January 21, 2005

Insomnia

More frequently than is okay, I get some sort of anxiety related insomnia. I'm in the middle of a lovely episode and am writing this on about five hours of sleep (the fucking binge drinking sure as hell doesn't help...see the most recent few posts).

Anyway, I was lying awake, flipping through channel after channel and at 6 in the morning, came to rest on a PBS show called "Sit to Fit" or something similar. Its purpose was to get the elderly to exercise gently and in a seated position. This show was definitely filmed in the early 1980s- the instructor had the classic teased hair and high-waisted short shorts and excessive makeup. The camera would be on her for a couple of minutes, showing her exercising and then every once in awhile it would cut to three elderly people dressed in their regular street clothes, exercising along.

This sounds pretty funny, and it would have been funny had I not come to the realization that the elderly people were probably dead by now. Watching dead senior citizens exercise at 6 in the morning. No fucking way. I'll stick to MtvU from now on, thank you very much.

Thursday, January 20, 2005

sorry

that should be attributed to.

my poor heels

i keep putting my giant toenail into my heel...
if you want to see gross...

i love...

everything that is fried
all that is salted
peppery squid
loving machines
lilys
potato
happy friends
who forgive
and those
who will let me
have drunken
missteps...
ha!
fuck. edits.

Monday, January 17, 2005

Hi, my name is _______

I don't think I'm ready for the semester to begin, but it has, so I'm dealing. Actually, I'm being a baby. My classes seem like they're going to be really interesting, and the professors are lovely characters. One of my professors passed around little placards with our names on them for our desks. It was odd, but in a very endearing way, like he cared to actually know us. At least that's how I'm trying to think of it. Last year, I would have thought that he was doing it to make the shame of our classroom missteps even more painful, as in, "Oh, wait, Roe v. Wade isn't about boating?* Crap. And yes, my name is Jack Jackson. See, it's right here on the Model U.N.-style placard. Hi." But this is not how I think anymore. Because it's 2005, and I am not negative and paranoid anymore...

This is funny.

*I refuse to accept responsibility for that joke. It is (inexplicably) about 12 degrees in my apartment right now, and I am sleepy. Yes.

Friday, January 07, 2005

Who's yo Tinkerbell?

Today I checked by school bursar account summary online and found that they had TAKEN AWAY MY SCHOLARSHIP. Holy flying shitballs, right? But then I called the financial aid folks and was told that they were just updating the system to put in the name of the scholarship and that it'd be fixed by tomorrow, so not to worry.

That is not right.

I was seriously contemplating taking a header out my damned window when I saw this. I mean, $8,000. Gone. Come now. The very nice woman with whom I spoke told me that there was supposed to be an email sent out to prevent the unnecessary suicidal thoughts resulting from the inaccurate info, but she "guesses" no one sent it, "tee hee!" Fuck. Ok. Over it.
***
In other stupid news, I decided to change my desktop picture, because it was of a man of questionable character. Now, I have changed it to one of the pictures from this website (a rather fit looking fifty-year old chap, I say!) I love people!

Thursday, January 06, 2005

Boooo. Hisss.

And this is why people hate lawyers.

Mmm...can't you just smell the steaming horseshit?

This is why I will have NOTHING to do with the criminal justice system. Well, actually, it's one of the many reasons. Damned nonsense.

Tuesday, January 04, 2005

Collect the whole set!

When I was younger, I knew kids who were avid collectors. Stamps, marbles, the usual stuff. As I've grown, the objects of people's affections changed to reflect their growing sophistication...Harry Bertoia chairs/sound sculptures, rare watches, first edition Sylvia Plaths, old Beatles records. Some of these people do it in hopes of future profit, some do it for the simple pride of having the disposable income, some due to an inexplicable (or not, if you believe in psychoanalysis) need to have THINGS.

I never was really into collecting personally. I have amassed a rather substantial amount of random items throughout my life, the majority of which I rarely see, let alone use. However, this compulsion is driven by my fear that as soon as I throw something away or sell it, I will have a legitimate need for it. (And I'm RIGHT, DAMN IT! *wink*)

Sometimes when I think about all of the stuff I have, and I think about people who have only the basics of survival (if that), and I think about how unexpectedly life and livelihood are lost (as in natural disaster, for example) I wonder: what the hell is the point?

It's pretty easy to decide that there is no point. That everyone should live as simply as possible, buying into the old saying "you can't take it with you." That being said, for better or worse, it is these little things, these collections which may be silly and futile, that among others things make life interesting and worthwhile for many. For some, life without things is not much of a life at all.

We're all so darn funny...

Monday, January 03, 2005

Success!

I am quite pleased with myself. Three comments! From two nice fellow bloggers, Lucas and Kicknit! Joy! This thing's not so bad, silly me...

Last night, I and my friend J made up for our poor New Year's showings. You've heard my story in the previous post. J's story is that he went to the party I was to go to, with his sister and her friends. He apparently hung out for about two minutes, left to get beer and an egg salad sandwich, came back, and left alone about three minutes later for home. Time of departure? 11:45 pm. Meaning, he was in a cab instead of counting it down with our friends, the countdown being the climax of the whole ridiculousness that is the Eve. Hilarious.

So we and a few of our pallies went to a bar called Buster's Garage in Tribeca. It is the most misplaced hulk of a non-New York sports bar ever. It is huge and has many flat screen tv's and a nice bartender named Chas, who only too readily poured Jager shots everytime J. shakily raised his hand (which was often).

Needless to say, J. and I had a great deal of fun last night. Super.
***
In other news, I have a lot of free time on my hands as school doesn't start up again until the 10th. How shall I fill my time? Suggestions? I have a few ideas...

1)Start work on the 30-35 page beast of a research paper that I need to write in order to graduate from this crazy ass school;

2)Go to the MOMA;

3)Catch up with all of the non-law school friends that I routinely neglect like an ASSHOLE;

4)Get back into the groove of working out nearly everyday (which fell by the wayside around Thanksgiving- great timing that was...);

5)Reconfigure my living space to reflect my status as mature single person of sound mind and body, instead of the current setup, which makes me look like a psychotic junkie bachelor with an unhealthy love of applesauce (I have lots of little Mott's Applesauce cups in my fridge. I really like it a lot.)

We shall see how these few small goals end up. Totally doable, right?

Saturday, January 01, 2005

Wait, I can explain...

Happy New Year, and whatnot.

I took a lovely walk around the city today in the BEAUTEOUS weather and decided

[Brody Dalle's kickass voice is distracting me...hold on...]

that I am going to fill my life with activities. Productive activities. Somehow, this feeling was brought on by the sight of the Village Voice offices. Something about the the Village Voice makes me want to work really hard for free, which is weird. I mean, I'm okay with interning, as long as it's not pure gofer-ing, but why the Village Voice?

So this (blogging) is one of the activities that I've decided to pursue, in hopes that it will leave less time for the boozing and smoking, which I love to do despite their loving me less and less as I age.

Case in point: I got so excited about the prospect of nearly universally condoned, nay, mandated drinking on the Eve that on the eve of the Eve, I went out and got inconceivably drunk (read: so drunk that it is AMAZING that I woke up the next day. Or ever.) Truly, one of the problems may be that in my general daily fogginess, I sometimes forget to eat food. Another possibility is that I have so battered my innards over the years that they refuse to process alcohol as they used to. Most likely, I am simply a decadent lush. Alas.

As a result of this debauched carrying on, I did not see any reason to continue the fete on the Eve. So I watched Dick Clark without the Dick Clark. Sad- good luck Mr. Clark.
***

Since starting law school, I have not kept up with any of my hobbies. I need hobbies. Writing is one of my hobbies. So I'll warn you now, I *may* be posting some of my ludicrous poems and such from time to time. Otherwise, I will generally rant and rave and aimlessly release some of the pressure. Ahhhh, sweet release.

Like, whoa.

Paris Hilton has a new fragrance out. What's it called? Paris Hilton. What's it smell like? Sweet pickles and Nerds candy. And the little insert in the magazines say "OPEN HERE TO EXPERIENCE PARIS HILTON." Oh, most excellent perfection!

Correct!

Nice. My inner monologue has been flowing in this blog-style, clipped rhythm for days now, and I finally start one, in order to free up some brain space and am feeling panic instead of euphoria. I guess a blank page is a blank page.

I think I'll start off by saying that I'm going to try not to edit myself too much, because I do not have the time. Believe me, no one has such free time. Already, I'm second guessing myself (do I really possess the courage to do this?).

Catoptrophobia is the fear of mirrors.

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