- A few weeks ago when Alex and I were in New York visiting Co-Blogger Chris, we went out to dinner with our friend Bobby. During dinner, Bobby was shocked and horrified to learn that I don't wash new clothes before wearing them for the first time. I, however, was shocked and horrified to learn that he does. When asked why Bobby does this, he looked me square in the eyes and in the most deathly serious tone said, "Meg. Little children in sweatshops learn to masturbate while making your clothing on a loom." I can honestly say that this is the second most frightening sentence I have heard in my life, next to my sister's "When the white pants go away, the moustaches come out to play" catchphrase. It just raises so many questions. Like: a.) that's not true...is it? b.) who learns to masturbate? c.) how is it physically possible to operate a loom while masturbating? I can barely type and talk at the same time d.) ...How does Bobby know this? e.) Are clothes still made on looms? I thought loom technology had advanced so it's all done by machines? So. Many. Unanswered. Questions. And this is what I'll be thinking about at any given moment today as I wear my new, unwashed, masturbatory dress.
- Boss #2 was in here the other day getting ready for a meeting when she mentioned, out of the blue, that she wants the office (meaning me) to stop drinking bottled water and use the filtration system hooked up through the refrigerator. "It's just so many of these architects are all about "Going Green" these days or whatever and I don't think it looks very good that we [again, meaning me] drink bottled water," she explained. "Oh. We have a water filtration system in the fridge?" I asked. "Well. I know water comes out of it," she said, as she opened the fridge and poured herself a cup, "I'm just not sure if the filter was ever turned on." She stopped, took a sip, made a disgusted face and said, "Hmm. Not exactly ideal. But I'm sure you'll manage!" before throwing the rest of the water out and walking away. OH I'M SORRY, but there is no fucking way I'm going to drink mystery refrigerator water just because you want to give the illusion of Going Green. I mean, I'm just as hippie-dippie as the next person and Lord knows I love me some planet Earth, but frankly I love avoiding lead poisoning on a daily basis just a little more. (Please know I'm trying very hard not to make a racially motivated Mexican/water joke right now. Had I not recently had my Asian debacle, I'd totally go for it.)
- In trying to find a photo of Ox from Revenge of the Nerds for yesterday's post, I came across this "What Parents Need to Know" review of Revenge of the Nerds written by Ellen Dendy. It's basically a laundry list of everything offensive in the movie and it's pretty much the best thing I've ever read in my entire life. My favorite parts are in bold:
"Parents need to know that students binge drink, and smoke cigarettes and pot in this R-rated college movie. There's a strong emphasis on "getting laid" throughout the film, which includes scenes in which students make out and engage in heavy petting. The panty raid scene includes full female nudity, and the frat boys expose their bare behinds in a mooning scene. The nerds install hidden video cams in a sorority house so they can watch them undress. Profanity isn't excessive, but a few bad words and suggestive phrases are uttered. There's no bloody violence, but much of the story line centers on getting revenge. There are many stereotypes targeting Asians, gays, fat girls, and more. The story shows the unfair treatment of people considered outsiders, and in the end, emphasizes the acceptance of outsiders."Ellen goes on to suggest discussion questions parents can raise with their children to ignite a thoughtful discussion about bullying and stereotypes. And I could fucking keel over and die. It's just that funny to me. Because this is a movie where one of the main characters (specifically,"Booger") spends a major part of the film wearing a t-shirt that reads, "Gimme Head Til I'm Dead" and my favorite line is:
Stan Gable: What are you looking at, nerd?
Booger: I thought I was looking at my mother's old douche-bag, but that's in Ohio.
God I love The Internets.
- This past Tuesday morning, I came as close to killing another human being as I ever have in my brief 24 years of life. Not wanting to swallow a stranger's DNA at yoga again that night, I ran into CVS before work to grab two giant bottles of Vitamin Water to chug throughout the day. I feel the need to point out that I looked fabulous, and as dedicated readers know, I'm about as shallow as a shot glass and my general mood for the day is pretty much dictated by how attractive I look. Ergo, I was in a great mood. My great mood was short-lived, however, as there was a young woman of Asian descent—approximately 5'3", 26-years-old, black hair, headband—standing directly in front of the refrigerator with the Vitamin Water in it. Her shit was everywhere. She was taking up the entire aisle, her handbag, gym back and CVS basket were on the floor and she was digging through her wallet, clearly looking for something. "Excuse me," I asked her politely, motioning towards the refrigerator. "Uggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh," she sighed as she rolled her eyes and moved her body AN single millimeter so I could pass. Which is irritating in and of itself, but not Voluntary Manslaughter irritating. I went into the fridge, got my Vitamin Water, turned around and immediately tripped one of the various items she had thrown on the ground, causing the zipper from one of my boots to snag and ultimately tear a giant hole in my favorite pair of tights. After I fell face first into a display of blueberry Tasty Kakes, I looked down and surveyed the damage: not only was there now a giant hole in my favorite pair of tights, but the zipper on my brand new boots had also snapped off in the process. My eyes turned red and I felt my fangs descend. I turned around and looked at Asian Chick directly in the eyes. "Oh." she said, as if I had just told her I like a good pork chop. Now, I probably would have said "I'M SORRY" in that instance, but you know what? I'm actually the one who's sorry! I'm sorry that my human body got in the way of your various bags. They deserve a comfortable place to stand, not me. And I'm also sorry for not realizing that CVS is your bedroom! OH, pardon me! Now if you don't mind, I'm just going to go into "your" fridge and grab a few of "your" Vitamin Waters. I'll leave a few bucks with your "roommate" at the front register for "you" to grab later. "Thanks."
Of course I was so overcome with rage that I couldn't think of a single thing to say and just stared at her for an uncomfortable length of time before awkwardly shouting "JESUS CHRIST!" and running away. Naturally I spent the rest of the day thinking of things I should have said, which is irritating. Damnit. So if you or a friend is a young lady of Asian descent who was at the 19th Street CVS Tuesday morning at approximately 8:50am—you are incredibly lucky to have your life right now. I want an apology and a new pair of tights. At the very least. You A-fuck.
- Damnit...now I'm all riled up again after I had somewhat let it go. I hate leaving things on a sour note...WELP! You know what time it is!
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