Thought I heard a car door just now. Thought it might be you. It wasn't.

What the fuck am I doing here?

Imagine a poor college graduate in this day and age. The uncertainty. The broke-ness. As a generation, mine is completely FUCKED. As kids and teens, we were all told that the only way to achieve professional (and therein financial) success was to go to college.

So we went to college. We spent thousands of dollars, took out loans, lived like animals for four years in cramped, cinderblock dorms, with various strangers who slept three feet away from us (and always seemed to either snore, get drunk, or fuck when all we really wanted was to eat Ramen noodles and fall asleep on our wiry, metal futons). At the end of it all, we got the most expensive piece of paper in the world. Four years of our lives, summed up in a fucking piece of paper. Meanwhile, our friends who didn't go to college wracked up years of professional experience, learning trades or what have you.

We graduated, our hearts full of dreams, and our heads full of delusions of grandeur. I was supposed to be a famous film director. A classmate of mine was going to be a self-made millionaire by the age of 30. At least, that was the plan . . . Some of us flocked to cities, got cheap apartments in New York, or (for the daring) L.A. But those never seemed to last too long. Eventually, we all made the long march back to our parents houses. The party was over, our pockets were empty, and our profound ambitions had been trampled. We ended up taking the minimum wage jobs that were offered, our heads down in disgust and shame.

All the while, our friends who didn't go to college were actually doing something of worth with their lives. Some had joined the military, others had worked their way up the corporate ladder, others learning trades and joining unions. And they were making BANK. Or at least more than $8.00 an hour.

So the question is really, is it better to go to college? Or to get experience? I'm beginning to think it's the latter. You need experience to get a job, but you can't get experience without one. It's the Catch-22 of my generation. It's extremely hard these days to follow your dreams. At least if you ever want to make any money and get out of your parents' basement. I wish I had an answer. If I did, I'd probably be living my dreams instead of in my parents' house.

Whoo-wee. It's been awhile since I've blogged. Even longer since I admitted I had a blog. Since I'm stranded in my hometown, car-less, mostly friend-less, and trying to shake the dreams from last night that may or may not be indicative of the future (car crashes, having sex with rivers cuomo), I figured I might as well throw some bullshit out there onto the internet. Ya know. Because there's really not enough.

Currently, I'm watching Man vs. Food, the world's most annoying show. Why? I'll tell you.

1) Adam Richman

This guy is more annoying than anyone I know. He isn't a competitive eater; he isn't really anything besides a pudgy guy who has mastered alliteration and can eat a lot. I have an English major friend who can do that same.

2) The ladies

All these girls always aid Adam Richman with their kisses, whereas if he was not on TV, they would not give a flying f*#%. Whores.

3) America

While other countries are starving, we have a show in which one man tries to eat things that could feed an entire village for a week. Busch league, America. Busch league.

4) Jealousy

I'm hungry.

I guess I'll go take a nap and see what comes up.

Another all nighter under my belt, and many more to go.  I have spent much of the evening, amongst other things, trying to not take such personal and academic desparation seriously.  Tears are not endearing after 4 a.m.  

So, lovelies, I must do the two things that keep me content:  30 Rock and whiskey nips.  This past week's episode failed to make me chuckle as much as usual.  Despite the honest white ineptitude, Liz's overt loneliness, and MASHterful guest star, the true shining light was the actor who played Tracy Jordan's lollipop-sucking fake 21 year old son.  Who is he?  Where has he been?  Will he be back?  How expensive is it to start a dojo?

If anyone has answers for me, please comment, or leave a message with my dog in my motorcyle's sidecar.

Kal Penn - WTF?

It was recently announced that Kal Penn, star of such hard-hitting and critically acclaimed movies as The Namesake, Harold and Kumar Go to Whitecastle, and Van Wilder 2:  The Rise of Taj, has used his heavy portfolio of acting chops to gain access into a position as a liason to the Asian and Pacific Islander communities.  To this I say:  WTF?  

I say this not based solely on my doubts of his qualifications, but as a response to his outright selfishness in this era of death in the global job market.  I mean, come on.  Here is a guy who has managed to make more money than I will ever see by pretending to be high.  And now he is forsaking that lucrative career and taking up space and oxygen at the f-ing white house.  

WTF.  And p.s. the sequel to Harold and Kumar kinda sucked.  Even though I saw it while a little bit drunk.

Making Out With Billy Joel

I was discussing Billy Joel with a friend the other day and I realized something.  Normally, I like Billy Joel.  He's a respectable artist who has created a rather decent body of work over the span of his career.  But I definitely wouldn't say I love him.  However, once I've had a couple of drinks in me, Billy Joel suddenly becomes the best music I have ever heard and I would totally throw my bra up on stage at him if I ever felt the need to go see him perform.  In this way, Billy Joel is that guy you know, the one who is kinda funny, not necessarily attractive, but not horrible to look at, who during the day would only warrant a high five, possibly a hug in terms of physical contact.  But once you get wasted . . . all of a sudden he's hilarious, charming, and cute, and you end up having to hear the next morning that you got so drunk last night you actually hooked up with Billy Joel.  This inspired me to think of all the things in my life that, metaphorically speaking, I find decent sober, but fall in love with whilst drunk.

-Hummus-

Hummus, as a food, is all right.  It comes in lots of varieties, goes on various different things, and can be a decent, healthy snack.  But when you're drunk around hummus . . . all of a sudden hummus is the best invention ever, and you want to quit school and start a hummus farm in the middle east.  Hummus is that kinda dirty, but sorta cute hippy kid you see outside smoking at all hours of the day and night.  The same goes for most of the vegetarian slop that my roommate prepares in addition to anything that has cheese as an ingredient.  

-The Travel Channel-

During the day, the Travel Channel is an informative alternative to MTV and most of the other reality smut that is shown on every other channel for 18 hours out of the day.  However, after a late night, the Travel Channel is fascinating, enthralling, and a little bit sexy.  It's a shameful tease that it goes off the air at 3 a.m. to make room for Shamwow infomercials.  Essentially, the Travel Channel is that brainy know-it-all whose smarts go from annoying to sexy after the booze sets in.  You know, the one who knows a lot about everything but drinking and inevitably passes out early.

-My Cell Phone-

Yes, my cell phone is important to me at all times, as I do not have a landline and it is therefor my primary link to the outside world.  If I can't find it during the day it's moderately troublesome.  After I have been drinking, my cell phone is my world, and if I can't find it my entire night is ruined and I may cry.  My cell phone is that ex-boyfriend who I think about intermittently while sober, but lament, cry, and facebook stalk while drunk, especially if vodka is involved.

-Cigarettes-

Throughout the day I may have a cigarette or three, depending on how far I'm driving or how stressed I am.  If I have been drinking, they are my best friend, my favorite pass time, and a comforting companion.  Cigarettes are that boy you know is bad for you, doesn't treat you well or make you feel good about yourself, but is just goddamn irresistible.

There you have it.  We make stupid choices when we're drunk, and they don't always involve waking up in a WTF situation.  What is the solution?  To not drink of course, but that's no fun.  So, I propose surrounding yourself with things you ordinarily love while drinking, because odds are they will just become more awesome.

TWITTER . . . WHAT ARE YOU FOR???

My sister keeps trying to get me into this twitter thing, which, from what I can see, has absolutely no purpose whatsoever.  It seems like basically updating my facebook status every 23 seconds or so, which I think is a bit obsessive.  I got twitter over three months ago and I think I've updated it three times.  If I did use it as it is intended to be used, here's a little something how it would look.  Just a normal Tuesday morning . . .

9:00 a.m. - Alarm goes off.  F no, bitches, I'm hungover!

9:10 a.m. - Oh fine.  I was having dreams about 9/11 anyway.

9:30 a.m. - Drop Alana off at school.  No, I will not carry your coffee to your class, gimp city.

9:45 a.m. - Get home.  Anyone want half my breakfast sandwich?

9:46 a.m. - Matt wants half my breakfast sandwich.

10:00 a.m. - Cash Cab

10:15 a.m. - Cash Cab

10:30 a.m. - Cash Cab

10:45 a.m. - Cash Cab

11:00 a.m. - Cash Cab is over . . . 

11:10 a.m. - Cry

11:13 a.m. - Poop

11:15 a.m. - The robots have arrived.  

11:16 a.m. - My need to update my twitter as I battle the robots is hindering my performance.

11:18 a.m. - Lazer burn to right eye.  Blinded, in severe pain.  

11:20 a.m. - Left ankle broken, arm severed.  Blood all over laptop.

11:23 a.m. - Light fading.  World growing darker.  Robots win.  I must warn-

See.  Twitter causes death.

I was reading cosmo whilst on the can the other day, and it occurred to me that the horrendous advice that these people dispense might actually be taken seriously by some poor unfortunate souls.  I've taken a year-long hiatus from relationships, so I might be a little rusty, but actually I think it's given me pretty good perspective on the do's, don'ts, and definitely won'ts of dating.  The beginning of a relationship is arguably the most important.  It's the time you can ignore all the little things that will come to be extremely bothersome about the other person due to your hormones raging over the fact that you (Yes YOU!!!) are actually gettin' some.  But what if you just cut to the chase and flat out talked about the things you don't like about each other?  Those hormones will probably still have you gettin' some, it just might be a little less cuddly.  However, there are some things you should never compromise, not even if [insert object of sexual fantasy here] knocks on your door wearing nothing  but a jimmy and a smile.

5) Music

I listen to truly terrible music.  We're talking awful here.  For example, as I type this, my iTunes has just switched from Cartel to Dashboard Confessional.  Yeah, I know, and no, I don't know how I managed to lose my V-card either.  I know it's terrible, but it's what I like.  And I'm not going to ditch my long term lover, shitty indie music, for any guy that wants me to snuggle and listen to Dave Matthews.  Blech.  So, I try to be upfront, and blast Tegan and Sara the entirety of every first date, unless I don't drive, in which case I am forced to sing.

4) How You Like to Do the Diggity

Love is magical, wonderful, fuzzy, and all that shit, but let's be honest here.  If there ain't no kickin' in the kurtanging, then all the goo goo eyes and cuddlefests in the world aren't going to make up for the lack of spark.  You like it rough . . . he's the slow, passionate type.  Or you like it upside down and outside, but he likes it in the refrigerator.  Whatever.  If you can't reach some sort of mutually satisfying agreement about how you do it to it, it ain't gonna work.

3) Friends

We all have those friends.  You know the ones that try and test whatever boy you bring around to make sure that he's good enough for you.  Those roommates who habitually end up sobbing in front of whatever poor bastard you bring home, or who pay for background checks about whatever gentleman who takes you to a movie, who break into his house and go through his personal property.  They can be slightly inappropriate, perhaps embarrassing.  But you've been with them longer than whatever new dude is trying to get in your shiz, so don't become MIA just because someone is interested in your genitalia.

2) Beliefs

As a moderately religious person, I've caught a lot of flack from prospective lovers.  This is a major warning sign that this guy isn't going to respect your opinions on much else, seeing as he can't tolerate the most important views you have on something that effects only you and has NOTHING to do with him.  

1) Your Grosser Side

I drink beer in bed while eating cashews.  I pick my nose unabashedly.  You'll figure it out sometime.  Deal with it now.