Oh, February! How Thou Art Cold! (Update)

This blog had two hits yesterday: One in the United States and one in Saudi Arabia. This is sad for two reasons. First of all, two people read my blog yesterday (thought since the last post was written over a month ago, I suppose I can’t expect miracles). Secondly, I’m probably now barred from entering…

On Poetry, and Other Things

So my second semester of grad school finished out with two Ay Minuses, one Ay Regular. I’m fully convinced that there is extreme grade inflation due to the AM in Modernism, a class that met five times less than all the others, that I attended even less frequently, and for which I read essentially nothing….

Build It Up; Tear It Down: The Cathartic Cock

So I’m in grad school, as you may or may not know, doing an MFA in Creative Writing. I’m taking three classes, two of which are ridiculously obscure literature classes (Women’s Experimental Poetry and Modernist Moments) and one is a fiction writing workshop (Fiction Writing Workshop). Grad school is underwhelming: Each class meets for less…

Adaptation

I have spent this whole entire day trying to thing of SOMEthing about which to blog. Eating Magic Cookies, though enjoyable to me physically and personally, doesn’t lead to anything worthy of inscription on the InterWeb; rather, it makes me a lazy fuck who has torn through one and a half seasons of The Office…

Mi Nombre es Vera…Veracruz

When I was 12, I spent the entire two weeks of my family’s beach vacation lusting after the son of the owners of hotel we were staying in. He was a sleazy little pre-teen who got me in trouble for sneaking me off to the beach with him, and after our dirty adolescent dalliances (second…

A Musing Re: Old Men

A friend once told me that my taste in men is as follows: Line up a bunch of guys, pick the one that looks the most homeless, and that’s my dream date. I don’t necessarily agree with this sentiment, though I do concede that I exercise a preference towards a smarmy-looking gent. Overall, though, I…

In Which I Forget New York is Superior to EVERYwhere

When the plane touched town in Aeropuerto Benito Juarez last Saturday, that familiar sensation that accompanies anyone traveling ran through my body like the orgasm I did not have in the plane bathroom (Mile High Club attempt THWARTED by the fact that I slept through the entire flight! Thwarted! Angry!). It’s that shimmery shudder of…

Just Another Fucked-Up Friday

So now that my romantic life is back on track, at least for the next hour or until another slutty bitch writes something salacious and suggestive on his wall and I have a jealousy crisis that turns out to be reasonable (yes, writing drunk, and nope, still not over it), I have plenty of time…

Roommate Rant #1: How Gross is Too Gross?

Some people may argue that when you have a group of people living in a given area, dirtiness is inevitable. This is utterly false. The cleanliness of a space is 100% dependent on the people residing in it. For example, my family of six lived in a normal-sized house and, while occasionally four kids worth…

Roommate Rant #1: Introduction

Everyone is different. We are all blessed with different physical attributes, thought patterns, predispositions to fatal diseases, and quirks. As a “city person,” I generally tend to accept these unique traits as part of the beauty of living in a metropolis. Additionally, in a metropolis, the average youngster is not earning enough money to live…

Written in Defense of AntiSocial Behaviors

About a year and a half ago I was in a cab crossing 23rd Street with two friends. We were mildly merry and chatting quite freely about fisting or oral, something in the V area, puctuating the disourse with the obligatory shrieks and squeals associated with drunk damsels discussing dirtily. Our cab driver drove stoically…

It’s Not the Heat, It’s the Fucking Transfers

My average work day has me stumbling out my front door by 7 am and hobbling back in around 11 pm. 5 to six of these 16 hours are actually spent disseminating English into the minds of my students; the other 11 waft away in transit and Starbucks, the occasional run back home to shower,…