I'm not even going to apologize for the bad pun, because today really was the best day ever! Everything went really well and I'm so super stoked about my awesome internship. I'm proud of myself, and I am really grateful that I have this opportunity. Hooray! But I have to start packing a lunch because $8.64 for a panini I couldn't even finish is borderline obscene.
Also be sure to vote for bestweekever.tv for the 2009 Bloggies (along with all of your other favorites).
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Mommy wow! I'm a big kid now.
I'm back in America, which is pretty exciting. I did get a little verklempt when the plane was landing and I saw Lady Liberty welcoming me home. Then, I had to wait 30 minutes at passport control which promptly made me want to go back to the EU.
However, I had my internship to look forward to so I stayed. Today was my orientation. After a bus ride that took 30 minutes to go three miles, I hopped on a train, then a subway to make it to my meeting. I was 10 minutes early, and went straight up to the 37th floor. Turns out I went 30 floors too high, so I wound up being 10 minutes late. Go figure.
I got my ID, in which my hair is enormous but that's to be expected with me. I feel so official and cool, although I really hope my nervous nightmares come to an end after my real first day tomorrow. Last night I dreamt that I was assigned to manage and do maintenance on a bunch of different pools. Someone said to me, "okay, now you have to take care of the XC241, the HT99, the PP491," as though there were model numbers for different kinds of pools. Also, this internship is not related to aquatics! I woke up around 2am with an extreme tummy ache. It was the kind where you don't have to throw up but you feel like if you did, you'd feel better. I was pretty sure I was going to die. After lying prostrate on my floor for about 10 minutes, reminding myself that being nervous is good ("it means you care, E, that you're going to work hard!") I also reminded myself that I had Chinese for dinner. I felt better after that.
So tomorrow is the first day. Wish me luck!
However, I had my internship to look forward to so I stayed. Today was my orientation. After a bus ride that took 30 minutes to go three miles, I hopped on a train, then a subway to make it to my meeting. I was 10 minutes early, and went straight up to the 37th floor. Turns out I went 30 floors too high, so I wound up being 10 minutes late. Go figure.
I got my ID, in which my hair is enormous but that's to be expected with me. I feel so official and cool, although I really hope my nervous nightmares come to an end after my real first day tomorrow. Last night I dreamt that I was assigned to manage and do maintenance on a bunch of different pools. Someone said to me, "okay, now you have to take care of the XC241, the HT99, the PP491," as though there were model numbers for different kinds of pools. Also, this internship is not related to aquatics! I woke up around 2am with an extreme tummy ache. It was the kind where you don't have to throw up but you feel like if you did, you'd feel better. I was pretty sure I was going to die. After lying prostrate on my floor for about 10 minutes, reminding myself that being nervous is good ("it means you care, E, that you're going to work hard!") I also reminded myself that I had Chinese for dinner. I felt better after that.
So tomorrow is the first day. Wish me luck!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
The Saga Continues...
Lil D and I took a trip to NBPA to get the boot off of her car. We paid the parking tickets online, then went to the boot release window (it has its own window). Before we could get the boot released, in addition to paying off the tickets, there was a $50 boot release fee. When the credit card came out, the woman said: "Cash only."
Of course.
As we walked down the stairs out of the office, I kicked the door open Sparta-style and yelled "Fuck the Parking Authority!"
We walked down the street to the ATM, then returned. I had to walk across the hall from the boot release window to the payment window and presented the $60 from the "quick cash" option of the ATM. The other woman then said: "Exact change only."
Of course.
Since none of the stores on the street would just break a $20, we bought a candy bar that I didn't even enjoy. The third time was indeed the charm, so finally the first woman put in the call to release the boot. As we walked out, to release my final rage, I ripped the framed poster directing people upstairs about 3/4 off the wall, then nervously tried to fix it, then ran away. I told Lil D, "You can really tell who a person is once you've seen them deal with the parking authority. I hope you still want to be my friend."
Thankfully she does and even said, "if possible, I want to be your friend even more." Cute! Although failing to flirt with the kind of cute boot release boy, Lil D did learn some crucial information about our arch nemesis, P Francis: his first name is Paul. Paul Francis, meet your worst nightmares.
Also, I'm in Germany. So far, the adventure has been good. I went to a chocolate factory on the very day girls need chocolate the most, so I am happy. Keep a lookout for more Germany adventures, I have a feeling this is going to be a wild trip!
This is so weird.
Of course.
As we walked down the stairs out of the office, I kicked the door open Sparta-style and yelled "Fuck the Parking Authority!"
We walked down the street to the ATM, then returned. I had to walk across the hall from the boot release window to the payment window and presented the $60 from the "quick cash" option of the ATM. The other woman then said: "Exact change only."
Of course.
Since none of the stores on the street would just break a $20, we bought a candy bar that I didn't even enjoy. The third time was indeed the charm, so finally the first woman put in the call to release the boot. As we walked out, to release my final rage, I ripped the framed poster directing people upstairs about 3/4 off the wall, then nervously tried to fix it, then ran away. I told Lil D, "You can really tell who a person is once you've seen them deal with the parking authority. I hope you still want to be my friend."
Thankfully she does and even said, "if possible, I want to be your friend even more." Cute! Although failing to flirt with the kind of cute boot release boy, Lil D did learn some crucial information about our arch nemesis, P Francis: his first name is Paul. Paul Francis, meet your worst nightmares.
Also, I'm in Germany. So far, the adventure has been good. I went to a chocolate factory on the very day girls need chocolate the most, so I am happy. Keep a lookout for more Germany adventures, I have a feeling this is going to be a wild trip!
This is so weird.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Hooray!
I got the internship! I am so very excited to get coffee for the people who work at my favorite place in the world. As I was chatting with a couple of girlfriends, we discussed that I should start dating someone in the city. Of course, I wouldn't date someone from my floor because that is just silly and very faux pas. However, there are many floors in the building where I will be working and so I have come up with a pro and con list for dating amongst the different floors:
MTV:
Pro-He will be hip to the latest jive
Con-His pants will be tighter than mine.
Comedy Central:
Pro-He'll be funny
Con-He might think Carlos Mencia is funny
Spike TV:
Pro-He'll be a man's man
Con-Everything will be XTREME
TV Land:
Pro-He'll understand my "I Love Lucy" references
Con-He'll understand my "I Love Lucy" references
Nickelodeon:
Pro-He'll love kids
Con-He'll slime me
MTV:
Pro-He will be hip to the latest jive
Con-His pants will be tighter than mine.
Comedy Central:
Pro-He'll be funny
Con-He might think Carlos Mencia is funny
Spike TV:
Pro-He'll be a man's man
Con-Everything will be XTREME
TV Land:
Pro-He'll understand my "I Love Lucy" references
Con-He'll understand my "I Love Lucy" references
Nickelodeon:
Pro-He'll love kids
Con-He'll slime me
Saturday, January 10, 2009
SO many things upset me about this.
The first time I saw this commercial, my friends and I discussed the ridiculousity of naming a company after the Russian secret service. We're in America, dammit! But for reals, you can't just steal an acronym that's been previously established.
But then I saw the commercial again, right before watching Robot Chicken. Then the woman said something that resulted in me yelling and throwing the remote and coughing because I'm sick. When the interview man asked the interviewing woman what the best cheesesteak in Philly is, she replied "Geno's." Geno's? GENO'S?!? No, no, no, no, no, no, WRONG. The best cheesesteak comes from Pat's King of Steaks. I don't get if you get with, with whiz or without, with provolone (like me), Pat's is the best cheesesteak in Philly. Jimmy's comes in a close second, and I will argue that most cheesteaks in Philly are edible, solely because that's where cheesesteaks should be eaten. However, Geno's is not only less than delectable, they serve up an attitude that I do not appreciate.
Back to the conversation at hand, I do not know what KGB is or what it's trying to sell me. All I know is that I will never in my life buy it, because everything they have said and done has been rendered totally unreliable. Besides, the amount of Syrian hamsters stacked from here to the moon is clearly only 2,282,764,987. I don't know where she's getting that extra hamster and a half.
Friday, January 9, 2009
Something-est Day Ever/...and the Oscar goes to:
Today was, in a word, huge. I had an interview in NYC for an internship. I've wanted to work there ever since I've known it existed and I would give Kevin Federline custody of my children if that what it takes to work there. I met my idol without having a panic attack. My palms were sweaty, knees weak, arms were heavy, vomit on my sweater already--mom's spaghetti (Sorry, sometimes I break out into Eminem). Actually, my palms were only slightly damp and I don't think my shaking was too visible. I think it went well; even if they don't take me, it was a good experience and I got to meet some really awesome people.
Anywho, I got on the train back to the Dirty Jerz to conduct a couple of interviews of my own. The man behind me was coughing up some sort of disgusting, so after Secaucus I had to move. I got to the office, did my thing, then got in the car to drive Dreads home. Lil D came running up to me as I was pulling out of the parking lot with tears pouring down her face and paperwork in her hands. New Brunswick Parking Authority aka Satan put a boot on her car (seriously P Francis, if I ever meet you face to face you will pay for that ticket you gave me when I was in my driveway with the hazards on...you will pay). Turns out, she had 14 outstanding tickets. Granted, I am not one to talk. But my tickets are at least on the single digits side of town. Anyway, talk about lesson learned. Before she can get the boot removed she has to pay all of the tickets, plus a $50 boot removal fee. If you've never understood the concept of adding insult to injury, herein lies a perfect example.
To help Lil D out, I called the number listed, and then the number that the recording I reached told me to call. Whoever picked up had some sort of crush on my voice, so I milked it for all it was worth. I got pretty serious with his supervisor, not even gonna lie. I wound up going to NBPA (lucky for P Francis s/he wasn't there) to take care of everything in person. The man I talked to on the phone was so happy to meet me and took me directly to the person who deals with boot removal. I pretended to be Lil D. I think I got it down, except for the "lil" part seeing as I am approximately a person larger than she is.
I argued, I plead, I cried, I begged. The boot is still on, but I convinced him to release the boot tomorrow even though they don't usually do weekend releases. It worked out well, because I said everything Lil D said without getting emotional.
Currently, I am exhausted and feel the pangs of sinus pressure welcoming a winter cold. Awesome.
Next time: bar fights and prostitutes.
Anywho, I got on the train back to the Dirty Jerz to conduct a couple of interviews of my own. The man behind me was coughing up some sort of disgusting, so after Secaucus I had to move. I got to the office, did my thing, then got in the car to drive Dreads home. Lil D came running up to me as I was pulling out of the parking lot with tears pouring down her face and paperwork in her hands. New Brunswick Parking Authority aka Satan put a boot on her car (seriously P Francis, if I ever meet you face to face you will pay for that ticket you gave me when I was in my driveway with the hazards on...you will pay). Turns out, she had 14 outstanding tickets. Granted, I am not one to talk. But my tickets are at least on the single digits side of town. Anyway, talk about lesson learned. Before she can get the boot removed she has to pay all of the tickets, plus a $50 boot removal fee. If you've never understood the concept of adding insult to injury, herein lies a perfect example.
To help Lil D out, I called the number listed, and then the number that the recording I reached told me to call. Whoever picked up had some sort of crush on my voice, so I milked it for all it was worth. I got pretty serious with his supervisor, not even gonna lie. I wound up going to NBPA (lucky for P Francis s/he wasn't there) to take care of everything in person. The man I talked to on the phone was so happy to meet me and took me directly to the person who deals with boot removal. I pretended to be Lil D. I think I got it down, except for the "lil" part seeing as I am approximately a person larger than she is.
I argued, I plead, I cried, I begged. The boot is still on, but I convinced him to release the boot tomorrow even though they don't usually do weekend releases. It worked out well, because I said everything Lil D said without getting emotional.
Currently, I am exhausted and feel the pangs of sinus pressure welcoming a winter cold. Awesome.
Next time: bar fights and prostitutes.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Thursday, January 1, 2009
King of Beers? Kiss my ass.
Last night was one of the best New Year's Eves on record; however, that isn't saying too much. I had a lovely dinner with AP and Lil D, then I went over to M's for celebrations. I didn't know a soul besides M and J and a former employee whom I left shaking in his boots (I didn't know I was so scary). Midnight arrived while I was in the attic with 10 strangers. We wished each other a happy 2009 and continued on our merry way. My plan was to leave around 12:30am, but the following rant on Budweiser kept me a half hour longer.
I didn't catch his name, but a young man that was at the party who was related to the boyfriend of someone's cousin began a hilarious soliloquy on the piss-water that is Budweiser beer. He stood only an inch or two taller than me, with dark jeans and a grey hoodie under his navy peacoat. He wore a red plaid scarf around his neck and his skullcap remained on his head for the duration of the party because it was so damn cold last night. He was not sober, so his dark brown eyes were not entirely in focus and his words were slightly slurred as they rolled off his cocoa mouth. He had a bottle of Budweiser in his hand and after a particularly long sip, he looked at it and said, "this tastes like water!"
M's adorable photography editor housemate walked by and said, "everyone is starting to think their alcohol is water, welcome to the new year!" I tried not to swoon too obviously, that kid is just so damn cute. Apologies for my digression.
"No seriously, this shit tastes like water. Give me a real beer, dammit. Guinness, Heineken, Corona, anything other than Budweiser." He took another sip, smacked his lips and looked at the bottle. "Really, it tastes like funny water. It tastes like project water. You know when sometimes the water goes bad in the projects?"
I looked at who he was talking to: a 19yo white girl from Ohio, a 22yo white guy from Jersey, and me, a 20something white girl from the suburbs of Philly. So, it was a good thing he continued with the story, rather than waiting for a response to whether or not we know what bad project water tastes like, because clearly none of us knew.
"Now why on earth would I pay to drink funny project water when I can visit my family and get it for free? Budweiser, is this really the best you can do? King of Beers? Kiss my ass. This shit ain't king of anything."
His bottle was empty at this point, so he excused himself to get another.
I didn't catch his name, but a young man that was at the party who was related to the boyfriend of someone's cousin began a hilarious soliloquy on the piss-water that is Budweiser beer. He stood only an inch or two taller than me, with dark jeans and a grey hoodie under his navy peacoat. He wore a red plaid scarf around his neck and his skullcap remained on his head for the duration of the party because it was so damn cold last night. He was not sober, so his dark brown eyes were not entirely in focus and his words were slightly slurred as they rolled off his cocoa mouth. He had a bottle of Budweiser in his hand and after a particularly long sip, he looked at it and said, "this tastes like water!"
M's adorable photography editor housemate walked by and said, "everyone is starting to think their alcohol is water, welcome to the new year!" I tried not to swoon too obviously, that kid is just so damn cute. Apologies for my digression.
"No seriously, this shit tastes like water. Give me a real beer, dammit. Guinness, Heineken, Corona, anything other than Budweiser." He took another sip, smacked his lips and looked at the bottle. "Really, it tastes like funny water. It tastes like project water. You know when sometimes the water goes bad in the projects?"
I looked at who he was talking to: a 19yo white girl from Ohio, a 22yo white guy from Jersey, and me, a 20something white girl from the suburbs of Philly. So, it was a good thing he continued with the story, rather than waiting for a response to whether or not we know what bad project water tastes like, because clearly none of us knew.
"Now why on earth would I pay to drink funny project water when I can visit my family and get it for free? Budweiser, is this really the best you can do? King of Beers? Kiss my ass. This shit ain't king of anything."
His bottle was empty at this point, so he excused himself to get another.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
