oh public transportation

i'm in the midst of composing (blogging) a symphony of events (debaucheries) but i had to stop and do a little show tune (crazy shit) in the mean time. i'm on the bus from boston to new york and the most ridiculous things have already happened and i'm only by the bu bridge. this. is. in. sane. if i die here, i just want everyone to know the funny shit that's going on.

THE T

• so i have "t anxiety." i'm constantly bugging out before i get on a t, like hours in advance. brought on by past unfortunate events, this anxiety involved me fearing that the doors won't open, the conductor will make me go up the steps with my 60 pound (9.3 stone, teah) bag and i'll trip and fall on my face, and lose my t card, then there won't be any room and i'll have to stand somewhere where angry thugs stare at me and then i won't be able to get off the t for my stop because there's too many cunts in the way and they won't move. approximately 87% of these things happened today, further inducing my t anxiety.
  
• i got on at harvard ave and there was absolutely no room for me, so i had to stand next to a scary nam vet with a missing thumb and angry eyes. fun. i get to pleasant st and, oh, what's that? running express you say? fabulous. i barely made it out of the t with all my body parts (and others') in tact and figured i'd wait for the next one. when the next one came, there was no one on it. ahhh, fresh air, no thumbless, crazy-eyed people. aaaaaaaaaaaand because i couldn't find my t pass in my pockets before i got on, the doors closed before i could wheel my enormous and overstuffed duffel to the door. thanks cunt-face-ho-bag-bitch-mother-fuckers. so right there, two failed attempts by moi.
  
• since i had literally 45 minutes to get to my bus to ny, and no t in sight, i decided to walk. and as murphy's law would have it, there were snow banks on every sitewalk, two (srsly?) construction blockades, and the sun started to shine so i was like sweating and freezing at the same time. after walking almost a mile in the snow with my bag, i got to the library to return 3 fucking books, which in hindsite, i would have much rather paid the $6 than go through all this absolute mayhem.
  
• i decided it would be in my best interest to not stay at central but go to east because i was the only one at central and tooooo many times have trains whizzed by when i'm the only one. so i walked some more.
  
• finally, a t came and it was just my luck that he wouldn't open up the back door even though i was waiving my monthly pass around like a mad woman. from then, on everything was pretty normal, no more horrible experiences.

but...

you will all apreciate this i think. i got to south station super late and i don't even know how they fit this many people on a bus, but somehow i got on. there wasn't much of an option for seats and for some reason i wasn't too worried. now i know i should have been. the first indicator that this was going to be the ride of my life (or the ride that ends my life) was that the bus driver said to me, "this is going to be a friendly bus ride!" the first open seat that i saw was right behind the driver, and the person next to the open seat weighs at least 400 pounds. sorry dude, no. the next one i saw was with some chick and all her shit was on the open seat. the only thing that that means is that she's an inconsiderate bitch, or a sloppy weirdo who is going to be all "oh sorry i dropped my sandwich on your lap, got some mustard on you, want me to wipe it off? or lick it?" or "do you mind if i just leave my backpack on your lap? yeah that would be great. can you grab me a tampon out of it?" absolutely not.

my final option was a 40-some asian man. he was smiling at me so i figured , you can't really go wrong with a friendly person. until i realized you can. i'm not sure why but every single person on the bus feels the need to talk to every person around them. i guess mr. asian thought this was the socially acceptable norm and so he started talking to me. i first i was like, this guy has a really thick accent and i'm just going to laugh at everything he says so he doesn't feel bad. the thing about the accent was that i'm pretty sure he was only saying vowels. i'm not sure what country on our planet only speaks in vowels, but he apparently originates from there. i asked him where he was going and he said "a'ae'i i'eee" which i took to mean "atlantic city" from then on i deduced that he worked there, once he took a 10 hour bus ride from boston to new york, and that he thinks the bus driver's hot. or that he doesn't trust her at the wheel. which basically mean the same thing. he is currently sleeping, snoring extra loud (just how i like it) and almost has his head on my bosom. weeeird.

other people:
i'll give you brief character profiles of the people around me just so you can pretend like you are actually sitting with me. like a virtual bus ride. i don't know anyone's names so i'll name them.

mobatu: african american guy. he's on his way to south carolina. he asked the lady next to him to take a picture of him in his seat while we were still in the terminal. he then proceeded to look at all his pictures on his camera that were all the same exact pose (him alone and smiling hugely) but in different settings. clearly a tourist, but a very cute one at that. he's really nicely dressed and seems very cultured, but definitely straight off a plane from africa. i'm going to go ahead and say he's in medical school because he pulled out book entitled "gynecology" and proceded to look at pictures and read captions about the female anatomy and pap smears. i could be totally wrong about the med school thing, it could be a freaky fetish: medical porn. he now fell asleep with the page open to some device doctors stick up chaches. yeah i always get tired too after jerking off.

barbara: smoker, late 40's. clearly and obviously drunk. like for real. when she took mobatu's picture she was like "jsssssst hoooooow does this WOOOORKKK?" then she claimed she didn't know how because she wasn't wearing her glasses. it's okay barb, we all know your secret. you don't have to use glasses as your scapegoat for not perceiving the world clearly. she seems nice though. very friendly, and willing to help.

roselita: hispanic, 30's, ghet- to the -to! black fake nails, baby pink blackberry nestled between her JJ boobs. (side note: mr. asian is like officially on top of me.) girl, that was never an attractive place to hide a phone. pockets. an equally superb alternative that don't force you to reach your hand down your tits every 5 seconds. she keeps talking really loudly on the phone, like really dramatic. though extremely obnoxious, the content is quite entertaining. she yells in spanish for like 3 minutes then says, "come on. come on. shyeeeeet. fuuuuuuck." that made me giggle. two minutes later, aparently something hilarious happened because she was laughing so hard going "nuh uh, nuh uh" and whacking barb with her extravagant hand gestures. barb of course saying "what happened?" and the entire bus just gaping. she started laughing until she was crying and then her "mami" called and she started actually crying. i'm thoroughly confused.


i should probably be nicer to strangers considering 1. karma 2. its christmas time 3. i'm like super creepy and mean. those are basically the only things that have happened thus far but all i can say is, we'll see what the next 3 hours has in store.

and i KNOW i have to post my opera of a blog post but i'm working on it.

scout out!

frickleschnitz

winner winner chicken dinner!--- finally i'm writing again.

since my brain has actually been eerily quiet lately, i've had nothing to write about. but i figured i'd give it a go again and give you something to read about.

highlights from hiatus:

• my fan club president came and visited me! all i can say is yaaaaay actual food, jello cosmos, and besties. fab fab time, lady.
• bla bla like 3 weeks ago something happened at a party and i don't even remember anymore but i know i said i would so this is the best you get, jaye and wes. wait i remember bits and pieces. an s&m conversation might have happened...
  
• halloween. working in an elevator for 6 hours. dressed up as carmen sandiego one night and paula deen the next. world traveler to "shhh, just one more sticka butta y'all!" was an interesting transition. oh the baby was there again, everyone was like "is that real?" yes.
• bought $30 worth of yarn. made shit, you know.
  
• chopped almost a foot of my hair off. typical.
• had off on wednesday for vet day. still went to work. for free. why am i so stupid? i broke a flask and practically got drawn and quartered for it.
  

it's bizarre how few things happened in the past 3 weeks. like legit nothing. that is most likely due to the fact that i really haven't left the library or my house. for anything. food? nah, gum and tap water baby.



on tuesday night elv, teah, esso, wes, kab and i squoze into kab's car and went to all asia to see jaye play with his band james downtown. they all played really well and everyone really liked it. i can't really describe what kind of music it is. jaye says jazz guitar, i say tapes n' tapes/dylan hybrid. really sick though. the pun master decided to tell jokes mid set. good try. after, we went to f-t and hung out. i think i said i was going to leave like 30 times and never did. i even went out the door, and came back in and stayed for approx 4 more hours. squang, ceese, and i were going to get w.o.b. but then it closed so they went and partied somewhere. we all smoked hookah on the porch at f-t had some fabulous conversations. about what? i'll tell you.

1. choirs. yes, like who should be what (fat uggos=tenors) and then everyone proceeded to sing the national anthem from the porch.
2. two drunk chicks walked up and asked to use the bathroom. we then learned their whole life stories.
3. are these pants? the epic and way too drawn out convo about if jean-like leggins count as pants.
   
4. bikes. who's faster, who rides leisurely, who passes who, etc. then there was a bike race. adub won, but it was close.
   

so that's it kids. i'm smackin the sack. what a fucking day. or lack there of.

(jay, hope you like the pic. i hope it satisfies your need to see/read about yourself. wes, you're in it too so same to you. bahaha, fuckers.)


ayg

hot and cold

so it snowed all day yesterday
and we caught our toaster on fire today...

elv did anyway. fucking pot pie.

i wasn't going to write tonight but teah convinced me to post my last blog as a teenager. i thought that maybe i'd change after tonight, be a little more mature, a better person.
maybe not. because i love:

• playing guitar hero in my underwear
• laughing when people fall (only when there's no blood)
• saying too many things out loud that should not even be thought in my head
• to curse like a mother fucking taxi driver, like the one who almost hit me on my bike today, missing by 17cm
• coloring with elv on bad days (or rainy, snowy, sunny, happy, busy, or lazy days)
  
• yelling "can you hear me? can you hear me? can you hear me now? really, you can't? sit on my face!" from the porch

so this was an interesting weekend. not really, except for friday. i had to endure 6 hours of country music, angry massachusetts hicks, getting beer spilled on my chair, and cowboy hats and boots at work. fuck country music concerts. i do not understand how a band whose most famous song is called chicken fried sold more tickets than kelly clarkson. not that i like her any better.
i was out since 930 in the morning, worked at the biogeochem lab picking roots out of soil for 4 hours, then went straight to my real job, to work until 1130 because the band (if you could call then that) thought that they were doing the crowd a favor for playing 45 minutes over their end time. not doing me a favor.
when i got home, the first thing i see is a crowd of people watching a mother, who shall remain anonymous, playing pong with her daughter. thank god it was all my friends there or i would have probs died. i decided to get get cranked. met some new people, hung out with some olds. esso, jaye, kab, and adeb. it was pretty bombastic.
when you're in line for the bathroom, you'll say anything. just remember that next time you're intoxicated. kab overheard a pretty ridiculous conversation between fleur and me. it went a little like this, "dude, down there is like where the wild things are. its been like 2 weeks." "2 weeks? are you kidding me? when i wasn't getting any i went for like 3 months. now i just have like really bad razor burn." kab walks out, does his famous double gun hand motion and just says "gross." bahahaha laughing for like 3 hours was not enough. because i'm still laughing. speaking of overhearing...

overheard at 80 linden:
"those are my exact feelings on shredded cheese"
"you really just need to google hoodrat porn"
"what happened to my yogurt? it's phro-yo now, it phhhhell on the phhhhloor and so i put it in the phhhhreezer"
"i feel like i'm on a rocky ass boat" called ambien??
"do i look like i am a germ?"
"i feel like i just came up from african musty area, like a swamp or some shit"
"i just need a big puertican dick fucking me from behind"
"are your feet moving? it looks like waves on your feet, just moving, like this"
"who will fucking eat soup with me?!"
"my boobs don't hurt enough"

well, i guess i just couldn't post this before i turned 20, but there is some light at the end of the tunnel. you will be the first people to hear about my greatest new words.

asmartments- n. after much frustration with bills and bullshit, i decided it would be best to create something where you only pay for your own crap. like sometimes i only take a shower like once every 3 (okay, sometimes 4) days. so why am i paying for assholes who take two showers a day? so there's a fingerprint scanner on all lights, sinks, showers and everything to turn everything on and it charges you based on your usage. it would also know how hot you like your showers and how bright you like your lights, based on your prints. awesome, right? sianara water loving, light leaving on assholes!!

opposmell- n. so this really exhists. say you are in the kitchen with a pie baking. pumpkin for arguement sake. now you are slaving in the kitchen all day and you haven't left and your nose senses have gotten used to the pumpkiness of the room. when you leave the room, you get the exact opposite smell of what the smell you've been smelling is. the opposmell is often unrecognizable but is definitely not neutral. gotta love science. and word mashing.

pooportunity- n. now this one was a joint effort between me and a fellow nameless chick. not to be gross, because girls don't shit of course, but there comes a time, usually once a day for the lucky ones, that you have to poop. if you don't go, sometimes it doesn't come back, so therefore you missed your pooportunity.

foodgasm- n. being a bio major i always think of dumb crap that i'm going to invent once i get actually smart. like that will happen. i want to make a cake that will give the consumer an actual orgasm. not like, oh that was so good, but i'm faking it a little. no. like actual, "i ate a piece of cake, and i jizzed in my pants."


to end this right, i guess i have to go into a little more detail about the title of the post.

the ice: yesterday, it snowed an unusual amount for being mid october. it was actually great though, really peaceful and crap. i love snow like more than any other form of precipitation. (remember your dream at rise taytay? and how we all woke up at the same time?)

the fire: elv had a delicious jewish pot pie thing in the toaster and put it in for 15 minutes. after like 3 minutes we walk in the kitchen and the fucking thing's on fire. not like smoking with a little flickering flame. like... ON. FIRE. the first thing, and logical thing, i suggested was fire extinguisher. the look on elv's face, a mixture of disappointment and "don't kill my pot pie", told me to think of something better. "blow it out." so there we were, in the kitchen, fucking blowing our lungs out on this stupid pot pie, while still in the toaster. it finally went out. then lit up again like a goddamn trick candle. this went on for like 3 or 4 bouts and then the brilliant idea of taking it out of the toaster came up. so that was that, no more fire. smoke, tired lungs, and burnt crust (down frown) aside, it was definitely a great first house fire. then the power went out.


it was just my actual birthday, 1246am.
time to go to bed and wake up again and again until it's my next birthday.
love you,
ayg



for once i'm letting myself breathe.

something about me, a baby, and a party

what a weekend. in which i did pretty much nothing. the greatest part of the weekend was probs sunday when i went to the oktoberfest in harvard square. i rode my bike successfully there and somehow beat teah, elv, and cove who took the 66. amongst the thousands of people there were some awesome street performers and like musical people (?). that's probably not what they call themselves but i don't actually have enough energy to care. i took a fuck load of pictures, mostly of trees and babies. sadly, no babies in trees.

of course we went to f-t practically every night this weekend.

friday:
elv and i made penne vodka and a rum cake (to start the weekend right). and there was a baby there. an actual 13 month old baby who sat on jaye's lap while double fisting joose. jaye, not the baby. then the baby's dad left because his car got towed and stuck his child with 3 twenty year old guys. my maternal instincts kicked in when i could hear her wailing. so an hour of my friday night was spent holding and cooing to a baby. definitely not what i expected.

before the baby scenario, everyone was watching sports and i was finishing weaving my dress for the abc party. i'm pretty sure everyone there thought i was insane, though wes appreciated my efforts because he wore a sparkly american flag poster skirt with green suspenders. anyway, this dress was ill, it was made out of like 200 grocery bags. when i was done, and sports were over, elv and i played pong per ushe against esso and adub. we were winning but lost in a "lights out" double sinker. goddammit. i was impressed though.

after that we left and went to the abc party but NO ONE was wearing their outfits so i didn't wear mine. bla bla bla, nothing else good happened.

saturday:
it was some chick's 21st so elv, ella, 2 extra guys and 2 excess girls walked 3 miles to berkley to go to her party. the first shitty thing is that we had to pay 5 bucks to get in. when we got in, there wasn't anyone that we knew except the bday girl and cove. it basically sucked asshole and my only purpose was to drink my money's worth (or double) of what i paid. it was a waste of a fucking good outfit too: red silk tunic dress, white knee highs, black flower cut out wedges. but if you were worried about that, i wore it sunday too. we left by like one and walked back another 3 miles. i was super effing bored so i played the wave game. what is the wave game?

1. wave to people on the street.
2. place bets with walking partner on who will get more wave backs.
3. do whatever you have to to get a wave (wink, cat call, yell "wave at me or the world will end", etc).
4. scream suck it when you win. or get a date.

tip: don't play this game while alone, rape is no good.

there were two guys looking a map of the t and pointing, when i waved at them to get 2 points. they looked confused so we walked over (smart, right?) and asked elv asked them if they needed help. elv and jordy were laughing because the guys (did i mention, british??) were looking for their hotel that was like 4 miles away and the "YOU ARE HERE" was like 2 feet off the edge of the map, a.k.a. nonexistent, so basically it was a clusterfuck. there was no way around telling them that they were basically screwed. bla bla then we went home and i ate pasta-roni.

sunday:
after oktoberfest, a serious nap, and a carmel apple, elv and i went to f-t and made chili dip for the guys. i played ping pong with jaye, who demolished my dreams of being a pro ping ponger, the only sport i thought i could be successful at. after everyone razed the dip, elv and i played actual pong against esso and jaye. i don't remember the sequences of the night, but at some point we went upstairs and played rock band for a while. like a long while. jaye told me "james downtown" will play a song for my birthday (let's see if he remembers). esso went to bed and jaye and elv played ping pong. wes passed the eff out on the couch with jim bean in hand. we left at like 4. elv and i watched himym and talked about shit until 5.

which brings us to...

monday (today):
nothing happened. i woke up early, cleaned my room, bullshat. i went for a bike ride along the charles to mgh and took pictures. i'm pretty sure i wasted my time taking pictures because i don't think the film was advancing. i won't bore you with the deets.

sorry for the lack of humor today, i'm exhausted. and my ass fell asleep, making me want to dêpeche right now. ["hurry" for you american fucks (joke).]

$7 wings are happening, jaye.

let us be assholes for a moment

top 5 dumbest things i did today:

1. went to work on the wrong day and pretended like i did it on purpose
   
2. ashed on and burnt a hole in my tights
   
3. touched a scalding pan with my wrist
4. stapled my finger
5. stapled a fucking staple in my finger! like absolutely all the way in like it was a sheet of fucking paper, down to my bone, le-git.

it was so horrific it counts twice.

i also weaved a dress out of plastic shaws and tedeshi grocery bags for a don't wear your clothes party (or whatever the hell it's called). that was pretty dumb.

enjoy your humping everyone (it's wednesday),
ayg

justified

i bet i know what your wondering. ayg, what are you thinking about?

funny you ask...

1. how much i miss playing bassoon
2. the length of time i can pull off spending approx $7 a week on groceries before i die of emaciation
   
3. how i can get max bemis to bang me
4. the amount of jason mraz that elv plays
5. why i am absolutely emotionless?
6. i wish i was 5
7. i'm not 5
   

today was a conglomerate of freedom (a.k.a. no homework, nappy time, bullshit, thinking about the origin of venetian blinds, etc.) and productivity (a.k.a. fixing guitar, working out & yoga, showering, the homework i remembered i had, cleaning room, etc). i heard a sports announcer say "sexting" today. i was disturbed. mostly because he said he sexted a football player. it probably involved a triple penetration.

the chair that i'm sitting in is great. pretty comfy, but the view is why i sit here. i'm facing the door that leads to the hall. now our hall is pretty shitty-- full of dust bunnies, scarred up wood, and chipped paint. there is this hanging light fixture though... i'm gonna make you wait for this.




everyone who walks up the stairs hits their head on this. no hyperbole, this is legit. even if you warn them, they just go "what?" BOOM CRASH, then the inevitable "what the fuck?" tried to warn you, sucker.

elv and i had a fab chat about the greatest pleasures of freshman year: my best memory involved eating a good meal in the dhall, having a "conversation with myself", and smoking a cigarette. as i put it, it was horrible. as elv put it, it's hilarious.
conclusion: horrible is hilarious. always.

as i have drained all my thoughts on this digital page of pixels, (yeah, that's a little sad that this was all that i have up there) i'm going to bed.

jaye, have to go with super mario stache,
ayg



--
Alive with love, alive with love tonight…
(No, I won't let them take you, won't let them take you…Hell, no no…)
--
Max Bemis

Thats not how you spell chicken foot...

...was the sentence i woke up saying this morning. i'm not sure why as everyone and their step-uncle knows how to spell both chicken and foot. nevertheless, i was groggy as shit. i had the best idea to go to bed last night on top of those 67 pounds of laundry and i woke up with a drier sheet stuck to my shirt (and i thought it was a giant scratchy bug, duh), a crick in my back because of the gargantuan jean ball that accumulated, and a severely stuffy nose. i'm super psyched to take my ethics exam on only 4 hours of sleep, thank you very much teah.

i hope your happy, fucking narcissist.

this is what i call life

props to my besty (who i don't have a name for yet) for driving the love van really slow so i could take this.

one of us will die inside these arms eyes wide open

it's been one of those days. a complete cacophony of sirens, trumpets, whistles, silence.
maybe because i'm hungover...

that's a whole nother story (nother isn't a word).

quotes, mostly consecutive (if you can believe it):
"their pants are really shiny"-elv
"fuck"-teah
"this has been a week, dad"-elv
"flips and shit"-teah
"finish this cunt of a book"-elv
"you won't go to heaven and my legs are itchy"-elv
"i could throw like that"-elv
"that's because you touch yourself at night"-elv

elv and teah give me typical entertainment for the evening, something i take for granted. their snarky snaps could last for all eternity. we all went out last night; dek, esso, and jaye tagged along.

important points:

• smoked too many cigs (provoked by people who thought my hand rolling was "against the man")
  
• watched dek and jaye play ms. pacman for longer than i'm proud of.
• got appreciated by esso for cooking dinner, probably more than i deserved
  
• cursed out some poor restaurant workers at 3am for a broken atm
• ate bread "asses" with cream cheese until i passed out and broke my clock
  

hold up--
i thought there was a bug on my foot, so i screamed and elv got her rain boots on and furiously stomped on a piece of fuzz that we were convinced was maniacally attacking me.

back to reality--
today i got kicked in the chest by a soccer playing ninja and did about 67 pounds of laundry and got shat on by an old man for j-walking.

i'm in the mood to sauce people. oh whats that? you don't know about saucing, you say? let's give you a tutorial.

1. someone is pissing you off
2. silently size them up, think of everything that would leave a slow and steady burn
3. let them shit on you for at least two minutes, give yourself enough time to simmer
4. let it blow! sauce the shit out of them. throw in a few "yo mama"s if necessary.
   
5. when you're done, you have to say "SAUCED" but pronounce it like "SOSED"

basically it's no different than being mean to people but it's snappier and more intellectual. try it out, you fucking sons of bitches whose mothers are infinitely ubiquitous.

fuck you jaye,
ayg