If I were ever to submit a postcard to Postsecret, it would probably say "One of my favorite TV shows is To Catch a Predator." Sick, I know. But I just like to see these pervs get theirs in the end. And not in the way they want, if you know what I mean. Haha! Pedophilia is hysterical.
So I crashed a party again with two friends, and of course, we knew no one. I don't know why we keep crashing parties when they're always BYOB so we can't even steal some beer from strangers and leave. I guess I just really like to feel awkward. So of course, we were perched on the living room couches in front of the big screen TV that is typical in every guy's house on campus. Someone changes the channel to my secret favorite show To Catch a Predator. Wooooooooooo now we can get the party started!
Although, to be fair, after the pedophiles were brought to justice, someone broke out a bottle of absinthe and that's when things got a little ridiculous, as I didn't really know where I was after that. Awesome.
So yeah, we all know that public television is really crappy because it has no funding, but I didn't realize that the viewers of public television were just as destitute as public television itself. Seriously, I don't know what neighborhood you're living in, but you've got to be pretty freakin' poor to be entertained by a "newspaper crumble race."
Unity Day is an event that happens every year on the campus green and every club is supposed to choose a country to represent and then come up with an appropriate activity that corresponds with the country. That being said, however, people don't usually knock themselves out conceptually. In the past, the LGSA chose Egypt and had a soda can pyramid stacking contest. The winner got a rainbow sticker. Of course, you can always count on Campus Ministry to represent the Vatican (come to the table and genuflect and your prize is a blissful eternity!) and the Asian Alliance to assist you in creating paper origami cranes. Now that I found out that participation is mandatory for all clubs, I'm at a loss for (politically correct) ideas. Here's my list:
Iran: I could sit at the table in a burka and not speak to anyone. It'll be ironic because women aren't allowed to read or write over there.
Palestine: MCTV is Israel and if they put us at tables that are next to each other, we can just scream and shoot at each other with Nerf guns.
Mexico: Buy a few cases of Corona and pass them out. The only people who go to these events are Freshmen, so the gesture will be much appreciated.
Cuba: Daiquiris! Communist propaganda! Cigars!
As usual, all of my ideas are hilarious but awful, and I decided that since I didn't want to get kicked out of school, Cuba seemed like a safe bet- we will be serving mocktails. Come on down to the campus green at 12pm on Saturday, 4/21 for mocktails, culture, and your free XXXL t-shirt.
Sometimes, when I'm not reading depressing accounts of unimaginable child abuse, I like to read chicklit novels; you know, where the girl falls in love with Mr. Right and everything ends wonderfully. Just as my DVD collection is a weird mix of depressing dramas (Philadelphia and American History X) and romantic comedies (Jerry Maguire and Notting Hill) so is my book shelf.
The Next Thing on My List By Jill Smolinski
This book is a quick read, it's cute and it's got a decent storyline. June Parker offered a stranger a ride home and they got into a fatal car accident. As paramedics were carting the dead girl away, June finds a list that the dead girl made, detailing a list of 20 (give or take) things she wanted to accomplish before her 25th birthday. Well, since she's dead, June decides to complete the list for her! How touching. No, seriously. It has a decent amount of depth for chicklit, and while I didn'r cry at the end (I think I was supposed to), maybe you will.
Ok, so apparently Skype isn't just a convienient invention where you can talk to your dumbass friends who are studying abroad. Apparently, you can chat with creepsters from around the world! Isn't that innovative? So I get a skype message from Sophy Cheung in China and before I know it, I'm in a chat room with her.
[9:30:25 AM] Sophycheung says: how are you? [9:30:37 AM] Sophycheung says: I am Sophy from China [9:30:44 AM] Amanda says: who are you
(I'm not good at making friends)
[9:30:47 AM] Sophycheung says: May i talk with you if you have free time [9:30:53 AM] Amanda says: umm ok [9:31:09 AM] Sophycheung says: could you tell me your name ? [9:31:13 AM] Amanda says: why [9:31:21 AM] Sophycheung says: just wana know
(I figured I could lie, and tell her what I usually tell weirdos, that my name is Sarah and I'm from Syracuse, but it says AMANDA right there)
[9:31:25 AM] Amanda says: amanda [9:31:40 AM] Amanda says: what do you want to talk about [9:31:48 AM] Sophycheung says: anything just you like
(You know, if I'm going to creepily message a stranger from across the globe, I'm going to have an agenda, things I'd like to discuss)
[9:32:21 AM] Amanda says: i'm sorry but this is pretty weird [9:32:52 AM] Sophycheung says: you are a girl ,right ?
[9:32:58 AM] Amanda says: yes [9:33:09 AM] Sophycheung says: hou old are you ? [9:33:15 AM] Amanda says: 21 [9:33:23 AM] Sophycheung says: so young
[9:33:31 AM] Amanda says: how old are you [9:33:32 AM] Sophycheung says: you are still a student ? [9:33:33 AM] Sophycheung says: 24
(so now that "Sophy" has asked me if I'm a girl and how old I am, I start thinking that Sophy is not a girl, but a creepy man. I decided to find out)
[9:33:55 AM] Amanda says: are you a girl [9:34:04 AM] Sophycheung says: yes [9:34:15 AM] Sophycheung says: you are a student ,right ?
(why the eff is it so important if I'm a student?)
[9:34:19 AM] Amanda says: yes [9:35:04 AM] Sophycheung says: today you don't have some lessons ?
[9:35:21 AM] Amanda says: yes actually i do.. i have to go to class very soon [9:35:24 AM] Sophycheung says: and what time is it for you ? [9:35:36 AM] Amanda says: 10:30am [9:36:22 AM] Sophycheung says: you often on line ? [9:36:37 AM] Amanda says: not really [9:36:39 AM] Amanda says: why [9:37:01 AM] Sophycheung says: just guess , but so pity ,i make the wrong
[9:37:21 AM] Amanda says: i dont understand what you said [9:37:30 AM] Sophycheung says: sorry [9:38:00 AM] Amanda says: listen i have to go to class [9:38:11 AM] Sophycheung says: what do you do at your free time ? [9:38:57 AM] Sophycheung says: listen i have to go to class? you are commanding me ?
[9:39:28 AM] Amanda says: why all of the questions [9:39:47 AM] Sophycheung says: just want to make friend with you
(aw, she just want to make friend with me)
[9:40:03 AM] Amanda says: all right well, I have to go to class [9:40:13 AM] Sophycheung says: ok ,have a good day [9:40:20 AM] Sophycheung says: see u , pretty girl
You see, now that I'm an intern at a prestigious publishing house, I've decided that I need to be more literary. Obviously, to do this, I paid $50 a seat to go see David Sedaris perform at the Bardavon Opera House last Saturday. Actually, I did that because I love him so much that it hurts and that I want his life- so bad. At the booksigning table, the first thing he said to me is that I have amazing skin and that I have "like no pores." It was odd, but I can't say that I wasn't pleased. He ended up signing the book, "Amanda, what nice skin you have. David Sedaris." Yesssssss.
Anyway, I've been reading books like crazy lately, partly because they're available to me in such large quantities and partly because I have 8 hours a week on the train to either converse with crazies or bury my nose in a book. I usually choose the latter.
But it's strange to me that all of a sudden I've become an avid reader, considering that one of my biggest accomplishments in my high school years was the time I battled Mrs. Southwood and won. She was my 9th grade Honors English teacher, and I was knee-deep in the utter banality of books that plague high school classrooms across the country. The Pearl, The Illiad, The Chosen, and the worst of all, A Tale of Two Cities. Yeah, it was the worst of times, all right.
So instead of bringing the book to class, I brought the cliff notes. Apalled, she took them away from me. But you know what she can't take away from me? Sparknotes. That's right, baby. I got a 96 on the final exam. Now this is where any educated adult would roll their eyes to tell you that not reading books is not much of an accomplishment and that "you're only cheating yourself," but my parents didn't really care one way or the other, as long as I got an A. I got through college merely skimming the books, and only really reading The Catcher in the Rye, and that was only to see what all of the fuss was about. But now, I'm reading about two books a week, and I've been meaning to put down my thoughts and recommendations, but I haven't had time. Now I do. Here they are:
The Glass Castle By Jeannette Walls
One of the best books I've ever read, seriously. It's the true story of Jeannette Walls's life of total poverty. Well, that sounds uplifting, right? Well, it's not. But you NEED to read this book. I can't stress it enough. And hey, if I know you/like you, I can probably get you a copy fo' free. How's that? Anyway, in the book, Walls's parents are total deadbeats, but not in the typical "We live in a trailer and Darlene ain't got no money fo a new soccer uniform" deadbeat, it was a lot more complex. Her mother makes it abundantly clear that she doesn't have any regard for parental responsibilities, as she literally watches her kids as they're starving while hoarding a jumbo Hershey's bar for herself. Walls's father, while a bit more likeable, is still not any better, as he's a raging alcoholic that literally battles his demons, disappearing for weeks at a time, and coming back beaten and blotto. Throughout the book, we follow Walls and her brother and sister as they grow up, and against all odds (and not in a cheesy way), make successful lives for themselves in New York City, while their parents follow them there, choosing to live on the streets. Ultimately, Walls struggles with guilt of her new-found success, because as she lives in her Penthouse, her parents are rooting through dumpsters. Seriously, READ THIS BOOK.
Driving With Dead People By Monica Holloway
An intriuging true story of a girl who has a horrific childhood addled with both abuse and sheer indifference at the hands of her parents. Holloway becomes obsessed with death, as she sees this as the only viable option in her dark life, and ends up befriending the daughter of the town's funeral home owner. Most kids have a summer job flipping burgers or scooping ice cream, Holloway spent summers in her teenage years driving with dead people, literally picking up dead bodies at the local airport and driving them back to the funeral home in the hearse. As we follow her into adulthood, the stories from her childhood develop more meaning and the terrible truth comes out at last.
So, over Spring Break, I fell in love... with Paris (haha, got you there, didn't I? Oh, who am I kidding? You all know that I'm incapable of loving anything but myself). No, but for real. It was really awesome.
Here are some of the highlights:
Sainte Chapelle: Much better stained glass than at Notre Dame.
Musee Rodin: I went to the Louvre (sucked), the Musee d' Orsay (sucked), and somehow I ended up here and it was awesome. Of course, it's home to The Thinker, but it's also home to beautiful private gardens and a restaurant with the best crossaints everrrrrrrr.
Invalides: Who cares about Napoleon? I don't, but Jesus, I want a tomb like this. Who do I have to kill to get a tomb like this? Tell me.
Sacre Coeur: Not only is it a beautiful church, but it's the highest point in Paris, making for an awesome view of the city.
Eiffel Tower (at night): All right, so I'm not going to lie. I took about 58,395 pictures of the Eiffel Tower during my 5 days in Paris. But I didn't actually go up to the top until my last night there. It was AWESOME. If you're going to Paris, go there on your last night. It's seriously the best way to end your trip.
OMGGGG REEEEEEMIX in Paris.
Moral of the story: I love Paris. I wish I was there. Right now.
Narcissism at its Best is a blog written by a recent college graduate finally realizing why Peter Pan never wanted to grow up. Serving as a forum for angry bitching, drunken ranting, and shameless self-promotion, the blog follows author Amanda's life as a Brooklyn transplant from Buffalo, as she works at one of New York's top magazines, staggers through the NYC subway system after one too many open bar events, and collapses into the comforting arms of Brooklyn. Narcissism at its Best follows Amanda as she is living life on the go, running on empty, and thoroughly complaining to anyone who will listen.
Amanda's writing can be found in various national magazines, and praisers and haterz alike can reach her via email at firstname.lastname@example.org.