April 2008
58 posts
When Your Parents Are on Facebook
Growing trend in the Baby Boomer demo - joining Facebook. And this, very unfortunately, would include my father. This creeps me out. Yes we live in the same city, but now he really watches my every move. He knows when I make out with girls. He knows when I’m so drunk I’m falling over. He knows that I wasted most of my college tuition on dressing up as a slutty robot and being...
Imaginary (Boy)friends...
It’s been a while since I’ve posted about my personal life…been pretty busy so posts have been kind of erratic.
Anyhow, some news (which, as always, you can chose to believe or not).
Band Dude had originally booked ticket to come and see me during Passover weekend. (To recap: I’ve known Band Dude for a few years, but have literally only spent 3 hours with him one-on-one...
the making of a cosmo girl: the money pit →
Gossip Girl
I finally got around to watching the first episode of the new season of Gossip Girl, and having just read several reviews, namely the New York Magazine cover story on the show, I had to put in my own two cents. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a huge Gossip Girl fan. I think the show one of the best ever in the teen genre, the wardrobe is killer (if not horribly off-base), and I basically jizz...
Advice from VanessaK
Back in November, when I started my Cosmo blog, I noticed that a reader with the profile name “VanessaK” often posted unique comments on my posts like, “What are your parents going to do when they read tomorrow’s blog? Maybe you should write it in Jive or something so they don’t understand” or “Don’t make a business card, make a calling card with...
Trying Out the New Facebook Chat...Via Gchat
Leo: Oh my, Facebook just launched a chat feature.
LB: Oh interesting...kind of weird.
Leo: Want to try it out?
LB: Ok, see you over there.
(Transfer to FB Chat)
LB: Howdy
Leo: Ah! Weird!
LB: I know....can all these people see me?
Leo: I think so. I don't like this. Bye bye.
(Back to Gchat)
Leo: My god, that was exhausting.
LB: I know. Thank god that's over with.
Today is day one of my two-week detox. I made some crap promise to myself that during this time I would do yoga, not drink, not eat processed foods. I hope to emerge from the time a slim nymphette. Or, if you have some rare, contagious tropical disease that causes rapid weight loss, I will gladly make out with you.
the making of a cosmo girl: dangerous liaisons →
My Dream Last Night
Suddenly found myself 5 months pregnant. And somehow managed to get pregnant again. So I had two babies growing inside me that would be born at different times. I went to the doctor to get an abortion and he wouldn’t give me one. “Didn’t you see Juno?” He asked, and kicked me out of his office.
the making of a cosmo girl →
Just found out my blog on Cosmopolitan.com has been doing pretty well. I’m proud of myself. BOOM! Read it.
In the past few hours, I have managed to get a shitload of work done. I am a fucking MACHINE. 0110100010010110
“Um, I feel like a side of braised pork/As I’m being interview by New...”
– Graydon Carter, when asked by New York Magazine to make up a poem on the spot at the “Poetry & The Creative Mind” Celebrity Poetry Reading
I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS I WILL NOT WRITE DRUNK E-MAILS HORROR HORROR HORROR HORROR...
Friday. Getting ready to go out...
Tonight i finally got up the courage to call S, one of the first writers I ever admired. His book made me want to write. I didn’t want to write grown-up books. I wanted to write for people like me, depressed, troubled, 14 year olds like me. I remember him coming to talk at school. I was friends with CM at the time. We had prepared for his visit by having a sleepover, writing poetry together...
Royskopp - So Easy…what I listened to on...
Narcissism or Paranoia?
I Google myself several times a day. There’s rarely anything new, but sometimes I like to look at the available information like I was someone else. (Side note: Someone recently told me about Google alerts…this seems too complicated for me. I love how my job is to help produce a huge website, and I can barely use Gmail. Seriously, I had to have my roommate set up my Gmail account and...
Why you should never live in the same city as your...
Me: DOOOODE! my dad just fucking called and told me i had to meet them at 9 AM tomorrow to help clean out the rest of that shit. 9 o fucking clock on a saturday!
Friend: Nooooo! that's awful!
Me: The worst part was, that he was like "Leo, just go to bed early." and i had to explain, "dad...i WILL be hungover tomorrow. hungover + heavy lifting=vomit. not metaphorically"
Friend: hahah, what did he say?
Me: He said, "Uhhhhhh. We still expect you at 9 am uptown."
Friend: Bummer.
Me: I know...so we're bringing all this stuff back to my place. i guess i better clean up all the condom wrappers and ky jelly.
the making of a cosmo girl →
i dunno. just trying to self-promote a bit here, people. is that so bad?
School Days
Last night I was feeling a bit nostalgic for dear old Smith College, so I decided to sort through my file of old essays and papers. I graduated as a double major in American Studies and French. What, you may ask, is “American Studies?” American Studies is a bit of a bullshit major that allows one to study anything that pertains to America. My focus was American consumerism. So,...
Excerpts From My Diary (written when I was 12)
Sept 29, 1997 Dear Kitty, I went to new york and had a great time until the party. Okay, I told you about my crush, Adam, well they they had a party, a stuck up snob party. Actually, I’m an awful person. I told my friends I was going out with him when really he probably was going out with some other girl wearing a slinky Prada dress. What I don’t get is why I’m still desperately in love with him....
Those Three Little Words
No, not that. Drink. ATM. Cab. The roommate and I were talking the other day about how our lives have become a back-and-forth between cabs and the ATM at the Morton Williams grocery store across the street. We’ve lovingly named our cash machine (Atam), and he’s always there for us because he lives in a 24-hour supermarket. It’s gotten to the point where we are in such a routine...
"Little Boys Only"
A few posts ago, I mentioned that my parents became responsible for what was at first glance, a pile of some old woman’s crap. A bit of investigation turned up some real treasures. Namely, a bag filled with vintage pornographic novels from the 60s. I just didn’t have the heart to throw out Little Boys Only or The School Nurse. Published by Liverpool Library Press, the series came...
Mrs. Rottenberg Lives Again
my parents bought an occupied apartment on 73rd and amsterdam about 7 years ago. the woman living there was named ruth rottenberg. she had been living there since the 50s or 60s, and couldn’t be kicked out even though the building went co-op years ago - state laws protected her. she was about 82 when mom and dad purchased the place. and finally (kind of sick, i know), she died a few months...
Cindy Sherman Knows My Name
I’ve been thinking a lot about the creation of fiction in real life. How we lie to ourselves and others, and why. This Cindy Sherman interview that I came across tonight makes some excellent points. …sometimes I was [taking photographs] on my way to my part-time job as a receptionist at a nonprofit art gallery. And sometimes I would stay in character. A couple of times I’d get...
“I am living in a Mandy Moore movie,” thought Eleanor as she leaned her head against the backseat of her parents’ Subaru Forester.
It was the perfect opening of your average teenage romantic comedy:
INT. BACKSEAT OF MINI-SUV – SUNSET
ELEANOR, a 16-year-old with messy blonde hair and a young face gazes out the window of a moving car packed full of BOXES and miscellaneous HOUSEHOLD ITEMS. In between...
Just found this hidden deep in My Documents...
In the Lost and Found The first time my parents saw each other, they were convinced the other was gay. It was the late ‘70s, at the Central Park West apartment of a famous opera singer who was notorious for having over-the-top parties with boxes that overflowed with green, blue, red, and white pills for his bohemian guests. That night, my father wore paisley bellbottoms, a blazer with lapels so...
I'm With The Band?
“You what?!”
Phone call from T last night, otherwise known as Band Dude. He booked the ticket to come see me. I am imprisoned in a hell of my own making.
“You sound surprised,” he said.
“Ah! No no! I mean, a bit. I am glad you’re coming!” I remarked with far too much sugary emphasis. “So when is it for?”
“I get in April 19.”
...
