Last night I went to the classy Blue Chip Inn of Monticello, Iowa to watch the presidential election. If the half-assed effort I put into my Political Science major yielded anything other than a degree that makes me virtually unemployable, it’s a healthy cynicism toward the political process, particularly the ability of one candidate to make any significant change. Still, as I watched Obama deliver his acceptance speech, I was drawn in by his charisma and passion (and the fact that he gave a shout out to the homos in the first few minutes), and I actually began to feel a sensation that resembled genuine hope. It could have been the beers talking – I was expressing my patriotism by downing Sam Adams Winter Ale for $1.75 a pint (hella value) – but I really did find myself getting the chills despite Barack’s occasional platitude. As I watched my country take an enormous step toward equality, I started to experience something that for the past few years has been unfamiliar to me: a pride in my president and my citizenship.
Tag: Uncategorized
Longer. Less funny. More bitter. Part II.
Jenny’s US Weekly recently told me that my future wife Idina Menzel and her husband Taye Diggs are still going strong. I’m expecting her coming out announcement to rock Broadway any day now, but I am reluctant to report that I am not yet writing this as one of the paparazzi hounded halves of Mardina or Bluezel. Shockingly, I’m not dating any A-list celebrities at the moment, and frankly I’m becoming a bit anxious. It’s been nearly two years since the blog in which a younger, more brazen Marea claimed that her shitty job history would inevitably result in fame, fortune and a celebrity couple name fusion indicating an ultimate level of unearned Hollywood success.
An Old One (Circa Summer 2006): Wardrobe Malfunction
Today, against my better judgment, I decided to go dress shopping all by myself. Some background: my aunt is getting married on Sunday, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at shopping with my girlfriend who, frustrated with my indecisiveness, disdain for all things polka dotted (polka dots, as it turns out, are very in), and refusal to “suck it in” while trying on clingy fabrics, finally just stuck me in the tried and true dressy dyke outfit – khaki pants and a white collared shirt.
procrastinating…
As many of you know, I’m graduating this quarter, and all week I’ve been getting sentimental about my college career coming to an end. Case in point: I actually teared up at the gym this morning when I realized that I was probably doing my last on campus workout ever. So, as a tribute to all the good times I’ve had – getting over my chubby phase, rehabbing the chicken leg, Operation 10lbs. – I just wanted to give some quick goodbye shout outs to my favorite Rimac regulars who were there through it all. (Ok if we’re being honest, I didn’t get that emotional, I’m just avoiding writing a paper, so please indulge me. I know all you kids are procrastinating on “The Book” right now too, so this one’s for you, slackers.)
My longest blog ever is about flip cup. Does that make me sad or awesome?
While up in the Bay Area for Christmas, I attended a party at the home of a few of my brother’s friends and eagerly attempted what I have come to consider the world’s most impossible task: initiating a satisfactory game of flip cup outside my bubble of ruggers. This was not the first time I had burdened myself with the responsibility of being the coolest kid at the party (which in this case unfortunately meant being “the intense girl who broke up a perfectly nice game of beer pong and ended up yelling at everyone”) with disappointing results, but I still managed to come away baffled by the ability of seemingly competent-at-life partygoers to so thoroughly ruin one of my favorite pastimes.
Protected: The Few, The Proud, The Turleys (The password is what Shaina says to express her affection to us, all one word.)
“I’d like to give a shout-out to little ray ray and request the new Danity Cane”
Dear Radio Morning Show Hosts (particularly of the hip-hop persuasion),
I don’t like you and you don’t like me. You are higher on my list of “pet peeves” than personalized license plates, Ashlee Simpson, dogs in purses, and the phrase “pet peeves”. In my opinion, your job places you on a lower rung of society than say, the guy responsible for scraping puke off an arena floor after a metal concert.
Longer. Less funny. More bitter. Enjoy!
I’m going to be famous. I’m quite certain of it now. No, I haven’t quite mastered acting, my singing voice leaves much to be desired (though my rendition of Tupac’s “Changes” has recently created a minor stir), and while I’ve never actually witnessed it myself, I hear that I’m somewhat of an awkward dancer (so Making the Band IV is definitely out of the question). I’m not even a useless partying slut with a rich dad like Paris Hilton. As a matter of fact, I’m not exactly sure what skill, invention or pornographic video I’m going to unleash upon society to make me famous, but I do know that it’s going to happen and here’s why…I have an atrocious job history. Brace yourself for my success theory kids…(drum roll)…The worse the job before stardom, the larger the star. Hear me out. Brad Pitt worked at El Pollo Loco dressed in a chicken suit before he made Fight Club and got to do Gwyneth, Rachel from Friends and now (drum roll and trumpets please), Angelina Jolie. And those are just a few of my favorite highlights from his impressive career.
more beef
I had the great privilege of attending a Shakira concert last night and I have some comments for some of the concert attendees about their fashion choices. Quick disclaimer: for those of you who may have seen me rocking khaki pants, black converse and an oversized yellow polo with the words “STAFF-PRO” printed boldly on the back, and may be thinking “who the fuck are you to criticize? You looked like 90’s punk meets blue collar dyke,” I must remind you that I was participating in a rugby fundraiser and had no choice in the matter.
man i’m judgmental
My roommate Jenny and I like to have stances on things. For example, we recently decided that the premise of the movie “The Lake House” in which Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves fall in love even though they are *gasp* living two years apart, is fucking stupid. That is, as we like to say, our stance. We dont always agree of course. For example, her stance on Myspace is that, like “The Lake House”, it’s fucking stupid, and here I am rather enthusiastically writing my very first MySpace blog. However, I’ve decided that we dont have to agree on everything, just the most important things. Like today we took the stance that the new American Idol is a huge douche bag. Neither of us really watched the Idol this season, but one viewing of this tool’s new Ford commercial made it abundantly clear that America got it wrong this time. Is America’s new pop icon really an old gray haired man in a blazer, dancing too aggressively around a Focus? Buy a Ford? Thanks dad, will do. Now wait one moment while I throw my panties on stage. Douche bag. No one will ever top Kelly. Thats our stance.
Occupation: Cubicle Monkey 