This is the kind of post no one ever likes to read, because it's about how I'm bummed/stressed/depressed/annoyed I am.
But whatever, my blog views have reduced significantly now that the novelty of my tv appearance has worn off. Clearly all of you are just interested in riding the coattails of my fame.
My blog readers:Me::Aidnan Ghalib:Britney Spears.
Anyway, I am moving tomorrow. I found a sublet in Williamsburg that is really cute. I couldn't find a permanent place, but that's ok because this will give me a lot of time to find somewhere really great. Plus, the girl is excited about having cats, which is important to me.
Moving is stressful in the best of circumstances and I'm in a little bout of depression right now, so everything seems super overwhelming. I have to put some of my stuff in storage, and the storage place was supposed to provide movers but no one was available. And it turns out finding movers is hard when you wait until the last minute at the end of the month, and they are kind of expensive.
I had rented a "large capacity" car and a couple people are supposed to be helping me out (bless their souls) so we'll see how it all pans out. Right now it's torrential downpour and I think it's supposed to be similar tomorrow afternoon. I am gonna owe a couple people my first born child.
While I'm stressed about moving, I'm also ready to be done with this neighborhood and done with my roommate. I was telling her about my moving concerns and as per usual she just has to shit all over everything I say or do....she's super critical, but I don't think she thinks she is...which just makes it worse. So then when I told her that her negativity wasn't helpful she called me ridiculous and walked out.
So over it.
I'm also over the job search. I went to a job interview last week and the director never introduced herself to me (even though she was interviewing me) AND she checked her blackberry during the interview. Awesome. Needless to say, I won't be taking a position if offered one.
The job I have basically been offered sounds great, unfortunately the supervisor is on vacation until July 10....and I would really like to get things moving sooner than that. Super frustrating.
Meh. I'm just done with everything. I am planning on sequestering myself in my new place and playing online solitaire until September.
Basically, everything that has been going on has really made me question whether staying here was really the right choice for me.
Things will be better once I am done moving, have cut off contact with assholes in my life and get a job.
The secret is being hard to implement right now.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Sunday, June 22, 2008
I'm just a courtroom gangsta
Part two of Judge Karen day:
So after meeting with the producers I went to the set to do the actual taping. I had been concerned I was going to get the giggles because the whole experience was so bizarre and hilarious.
Ok, so you know how on court shows they say "The plaintiff is now entering the courtroom" and they play music that's like "duhduh dun dun duuuh". Well, they actually play that as you're walking into the courtroom. Which I did not know and I feel like someone should have said. Because as soon as I opened the door I was seriously like, "are you kidding me?" So I may have what looks like a smirk while I walk in because I was simultaneously stunned and amused.
So then you stand at your mark (see how I use tv lingo there? That's how I do now) for a while and look into a camera. Don't know why. Then I go backstage while Sam enters and then I come back in and then we were sworn in.
I knew from what the producers told me ahead of time that it was clear that I was the good guy and the victim in the case. And when the judge came in it was obvious she had already made up her mind. She began immediately questioning Sam about why he hadn't been more helpful, etc. and accused him of lying.
So you all will see that at my viewing party or my youtube video. There are some good parts though. At one point the judge cracked herself up so much she cried. And then the whole audience gasps when I put the picture of the bedbug up on the screen. So there are some good moments, I hope make it into commercials. Imagine if they air the commercials for my episode during Oprah?!?!
They did not do an after-trial interview by Harvey Levin which kind of bummed me out.
In the car ride home I was talking to the driver, who apparently drives for all of the court shows and for Maury and Montel. I guess it's a lucrative position because he owns a second home in Vermont.
Anyway, this guy has nothing but disdain for pretty much anyone who appears on these shows. I was hoping he could tell me some stories about crazy shit that I am sure that has happened after tapings, but he wasn't very specific. However, he did confirm my suspicions about the teeth. They fix your busted teeth for you! They have some dentist on file and they send you there with your nasty teeth and fix them right up!
The next day I saw Sam while I was on my way to do laundry.
"Hey Joyce!"
I said hey and we joked about the trial. Then he told me I looked tired. I told him that being on the show had really worn me out.
"Oh, please" he said, "You loved it"
How can someone who does not know my name totally have my number?
So after meeting with the producers I went to the set to do the actual taping. I had been concerned I was going to get the giggles because the whole experience was so bizarre and hilarious.
Ok, so you know how on court shows they say "The plaintiff is now entering the courtroom" and they play music that's like "duhduh dun dun duuuh". Well, they actually play that as you're walking into the courtroom. Which I did not know and I feel like someone should have said. Because as soon as I opened the door I was seriously like, "are you kidding me?" So I may have what looks like a smirk while I walk in because I was simultaneously stunned and amused.
So then you stand at your mark (see how I use tv lingo there? That's how I do now) for a while and look into a camera. Don't know why. Then I go backstage while Sam enters and then I come back in and then we were sworn in.
I knew from what the producers told me ahead of time that it was clear that I was the good guy and the victim in the case. And when the judge came in it was obvious she had already made up her mind. She began immediately questioning Sam about why he hadn't been more helpful, etc. and accused him of lying.
So you all will see that at my viewing party or my youtube video. There are some good parts though. At one point the judge cracked herself up so much she cried. And then the whole audience gasps when I put the picture of the bedbug up on the screen. So there are some good moments, I hope make it into commercials. Imagine if they air the commercials for my episode during Oprah?!?!
They did not do an after-trial interview by Harvey Levin which kind of bummed me out.
In the car ride home I was talking to the driver, who apparently drives for all of the court shows and for Maury and Montel. I guess it's a lucrative position because he owns a second home in Vermont.
Anyway, this guy has nothing but disdain for pretty much anyone who appears on these shows. I was hoping he could tell me some stories about crazy shit that I am sure that has happened after tapings, but he wasn't very specific. However, he did confirm my suspicions about the teeth. They fix your busted teeth for you! They have some dentist on file and they send you there with your nasty teeth and fix them right up!
The next day I saw Sam while I was on my way to do laundry.
"Hey Joyce!"
I said hey and we joked about the trial. Then he told me I looked tired. I told him that being on the show had really worn me out.
"Oh, please" he said, "You loved it"
How can someone who does not know my name totally have my number?
Thursday, June 19, 2008
You would love the limelight too
Well, fans, I know everyone is just dying to hear about my tv debut.
First up: I won! The judge awarded me the cost of the extermination plus partial costs for some of the extra money I had to spend.
All in all the experience was pretty surreal. I had a job interview in Chelsea and they sent a car to pick me up from the interview and take me to the studio (Which in an interesting twist was only a few blocks from my terrible first placement with Mrs. Ruiz...somehow it makes me feel like my life has come full circle).
When I got there a PA whisked me off to "my" green room. Where they had a vanity mirror, a desk, a couch, a little tv and a sink. Another PA got me a sammich and a soda and it seems like I could have asked for pretty much anything.
Not long after I had been in the green room they took me to hair and makeup. Everyone was really nice and I felt pretty comfortable. I could get used to fame. I had to sign a bunch of releases. I checked specifically to see if I could blog about it, and it seemed to be ok. Everything else was pretty standard. I can't be on another court show for 2 more months though, about anything, which I thought was interesting.
After I got my hair and makeup did I went back into the green room. It was the afternoon and there were a lot of court shows on, but I couldn't bring myself to watch them so I settled for law and order, which I only half watched because I was starting to get kind of antsy.
They don't let you sit around for very long and soon I had to go down to the set for a "walk-through", where they tell you how to walk through the door, walk down the aisle and how to use the telestrator, which puts your evidence up on a big screen.
When I went back to the green room I got "Miced" Mic'd? I dunno. Anyway, and I also met with the production team"
Erin, the producer is everything that you would expect in a tv judge show producer. She was intense, talked fast and encouraged me to be as graphic as possible about the bedbugs. She also gave me a picture of an actual bedbug to use as "evidence" although I'm not entirely sure how it's evidence if the production team pulled it off of the internet. I liked her though she kept saying things like "bottom line, he owes you this fuckin' money. He doesn't have a case. So you'll just get out there and fuckin' win"
Anyway, that's it for part one because I need to do some more apartment research. Basically I am having a nervous breakdown right now about finding a job and a place. Where is the secret when you need it???
First up: I won! The judge awarded me the cost of the extermination plus partial costs for some of the extra money I had to spend.
All in all the experience was pretty surreal. I had a job interview in Chelsea and they sent a car to pick me up from the interview and take me to the studio (Which in an interesting twist was only a few blocks from my terrible first placement with Mrs. Ruiz...somehow it makes me feel like my life has come full circle).
When I got there a PA whisked me off to "my" green room. Where they had a vanity mirror, a desk, a couch, a little tv and a sink. Another PA got me a sammich and a soda and it seems like I could have asked for pretty much anything.
Not long after I had been in the green room they took me to hair and makeup. Everyone was really nice and I felt pretty comfortable. I could get used to fame. I had to sign a bunch of releases. I checked specifically to see if I could blog about it, and it seemed to be ok. Everything else was pretty standard. I can't be on another court show for 2 more months though, about anything, which I thought was interesting.
After I got my hair and makeup did I went back into the green room. It was the afternoon and there were a lot of court shows on, but I couldn't bring myself to watch them so I settled for law and order, which I only half watched because I was starting to get kind of antsy.
They don't let you sit around for very long and soon I had to go down to the set for a "walk-through", where they tell you how to walk through the door, walk down the aisle and how to use the telestrator, which puts your evidence up on a big screen.
When I went back to the green room I got "Miced" Mic'd? I dunno. Anyway, and I also met with the production team"
Erin, the producer is everything that you would expect in a tv judge show producer. She was intense, talked fast and encouraged me to be as graphic as possible about the bedbugs. She also gave me a picture of an actual bedbug to use as "evidence" although I'm not entirely sure how it's evidence if the production team pulled it off of the internet. I liked her though she kept saying things like "bottom line, he owes you this fuckin' money. He doesn't have a case. So you'll just get out there and fuckin' win"
Anyway, that's it for part one because I need to do some more apartment research. Basically I am having a nervous breakdown right now about finding a job and a place. Where is the secret when you need it???
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
eeep
Judge Karen day is tomorrow!
I think it's the Secret's doing. I have a job interview in the am (more secret!) and the car is going to pick me up from my interview instead of from here, thus I avoid having to awkwardly explain to Sam why I would prefer my own car.
I am on my way to Kinko's now to fax over some stuff. They're giving me $150 for my trubs....LOVE fame! I wonder what kind of schwag they give you in the green room?
Also, my site meter tells me how people came to my blog. Apparently someone googled "vermin extermination guilt". My blog comes up as the 3rd result.
I think it's the Secret's doing. I have a job interview in the am (more secret!) and the car is going to pick me up from my interview instead of from here, thus I avoid having to awkwardly explain to Sam why I would prefer my own car.
I am on my way to Kinko's now to fax over some stuff. They're giving me $150 for my trubs....LOVE fame! I wonder what kind of schwag they give you in the green room?
Also, my site meter tells me how people came to my blog. Apparently someone googled "vermin extermination guilt". My blog comes up as the 3rd result.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Better pack your lunch, pilgrim, cuz it's gonna be a long drive
As I was leaving my apartment earlier this evening, I spied Sam the landlord out of the corner of my eye. He has been extremely friendly in his excitement over our impending fame, and I was trying to avoid him. As I was turning away I hear "Joyce!" (Goddammit)
"I haven't heard back from the woman" he said, referring to the producer.
I told him I hadn't talked to her either, but I was planning on calling her to get details about when we need to go etc. I think they send a car to pick you up.
"Hey", Sam said, "You know...we could just go from here. They can just pick us up together."
...
I can think of few things I would rather do less than ride to my tv court show appearance in Manhattan with the landlord I am suing who still does not know my name.
I used to think there could be no drive more uncomfortable than the weekly drive from Harlem to NYU with my nutcase supervisor from the nursing home. But, at least Camille played what I liked to call White Celebrities, in which she would pick one white celebrity every week and begin the drive by saying something like "What do you think about Madonna?" or "I hate Lindsay Lohan. Do you?" And then we would spend the drive talking about the white celebrity of the day. Somehow I doubt Sam would come up with a topic that he feels we could both relate to equally.
Although it would be a good chance for me to learn why he was in jail for the first 6 months that I lived here.
"I haven't heard back from the woman" he said, referring to the producer.
I told him I hadn't talked to her either, but I was planning on calling her to get details about when we need to go etc. I think they send a car to pick you up.
"Hey", Sam said, "You know...we could just go from here. They can just pick us up together."
...
I can think of few things I would rather do less than ride to my tv court show appearance in Manhattan with the landlord I am suing who still does not know my name.
I used to think there could be no drive more uncomfortable than the weekly drive from Harlem to NYU with my nutcase supervisor from the nursing home. But, at least Camille played what I liked to call White Celebrities, in which she would pick one white celebrity every week and begin the drive by saying something like "What do you think about Madonna?" or "I hate Lindsay Lohan. Do you?" And then we would spend the drive talking about the white celebrity of the day. Somehow I doubt Sam would come up with a topic that he feels we could both relate to equally.
Although it would be a good chance for me to learn why he was in jail for the first 6 months that I lived here.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
fuck judge wapner, it's jigga ya hear? y'all niggas in violation of the play hatin code section 1001 - JayZ
Ok, So The People's Court never called us back.
But when the Secret closes a door, a window is opened and today I was contacted by the Judge Karen show.
This is a new show starting this fall.
I will be going to court on the 24th with bff Steph in tow and friends in the audience.
And I guess my episode will air in the fall!
Oh also, here is what the producer asked me:
Correct spelling of my name
Birthday
Race
Correct address
And
If I had any cracked, missing or gold teeth.
But when the Secret closes a door, a window is opened and today I was contacted by the Judge Karen show.
This is a new show starting this fall.
I will be going to court on the 24th with bff Steph in tow and friends in the audience.
And I guess my episode will air in the fall!
Oh also, here is what the producer asked me:
Correct spelling of my name
Birthday
Race
Correct address
And
If I had any cracked, missing or gold teeth.
Friday, June 6, 2008
school's (not) out forever
I subscribe to a lot of blogs and podcasts. To the point where it is actually becoming overwhelming. I subscribe to science blogs, social work blogs, psych blogs, New York Times most emailed articles, friends' blogs and Jezebel. I also recently added a job search thing to my google reader which adds about 30 new posts a day. This adds up to hundreds of new blog posts a day and I don't even know what to do about it anymore. I used to subscribe to Google news but found that I was skipping through a lot of them just because of the enormity of information. Unfortunately, my deletion of culturally relevant blogs may be a contributing factor to my ignorance about anything current or significant. And it kills me to delete my blogs or podcasts. I used to listen to Slate's weekly podcast about the weekly political issues. I liked it because it was a good way for me to get updated on current events and also listen to some commentary. It was short, succinct and perfect for a commute. But there was also a lot of banter among the three hosts and it got really tiresome. They would get off track, make fun of each other and generally irritate me. I went through a weeks long process of debating whether or not I would unsubscribe from the podcast. Literally weeks where I would sit, waiting for the subway, listening to inanity about whether one of the hosts was too negative or whatever and I would have a long debate with myself about the value of wasting 45 minutes a week on the podcast. I ended up deleting it and I felt a pang of guilt as I did. It's really hard for me.
Jezebel is by far my favorite blog, but often times it reminds me too much of high school. It brings out all of my insecurities. I desperately want to be a part of this group that I think is so {funny, smart, cool, above-it-all, etc.} but I don't think that I am {insert adjective} enough to fit in. So I sit on the sidelines, laugh along at the jokes and tell myself that it's just because I have a life that I am not available to immediately comment on every post. That wasn't true in high school and it isn't true now.
Jezebel had a post today about that german sex book that has everyone all riled up and one of the editors posted a translation of part of it. It was about this girl who has hemorrhoids and how she doesn't get them removed because the only reason someone would get them removed is for aesthetics. The protagonist also writes about having anal sex while having hemorrhoids, which she describes as cauliflower. This prompted a google search for hemorrhoids, since I don't know anything about them AND because I love things that are disgusting. I love to do a youtube search on cysts, morgellons, the tree man and tumors. I can't help it. It's so gross and I love it.
It also got me thinking about the poor cauliflower, which I think is particularly delicious with a little sauce made of mustard and mayonnaise and with cheese broiled on top. But the cauliflower gets compared to everything disgusting that a human can get. Warts? Cauliflowered. 'Roids? Cauliflowered. You've got your cauliflower ear and a yeast infection looks like cauliflower.
So I thought, maybe I will write a comment about the poor cauliflower and disease comparisons and also my mystification regarding why anyone would have anal sex when they have hemorrhoids because it seems quite painful aside from the visual disturbance for the batter.
Turns out, Jezebel has all these rules for posting comments and you have to get approved ahead of time. The way to get approved is by writing a comment that they deem worthy of Jezebel and then they post it and you can post forever.
Which brings us back to my insecurities. I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself up for the scrutiny of the clique. It's just like that time in English class when I wrote a story about mean kids, because I happened to sit in this corner where all of the asshole guys sat and they would just talk shit about people all through class. (I'm sure they're all really successful now, btw). My teacher asked me to read it and I wouldn't do it and he gave me this fixed look and said "Caitlin, I think it's really important that you read this". So then everyone is looking at me and the last thing I want is for these guys who were sitting in my corner to know what I had written. And I might have cried a little.
So maybe my observation that it would probably hurt to have up-the-bum sex when you have a mass of veins protruding from your ass probably wouldn't subject me to later criticism from little boys driving big trucks bought with their daddy's timber money, but it doesn't matter. I am actually back in high school, writing journal entries about my inability to fit in, laughing too hard at the wrong jokes and having crushes on all of the boys who are now gay.
Ugh.
I am going to go to my room, eat a bag of chocolate, hide it under my bed and self-injure.
Jezebel is by far my favorite blog, but often times it reminds me too much of high school. It brings out all of my insecurities. I desperately want to be a part of this group that I think is so {funny, smart, cool, above-it-all, etc.} but I don't think that I am {insert adjective} enough to fit in. So I sit on the sidelines, laugh along at the jokes and tell myself that it's just because I have a life that I am not available to immediately comment on every post. That wasn't true in high school and it isn't true now.
Jezebel had a post today about that german sex book that has everyone all riled up and one of the editors posted a translation of part of it. It was about this girl who has hemorrhoids and how she doesn't get them removed because the only reason someone would get them removed is for aesthetics. The protagonist also writes about having anal sex while having hemorrhoids, which she describes as cauliflower. This prompted a google search for hemorrhoids, since I don't know anything about them AND because I love things that are disgusting. I love to do a youtube search on cysts, morgellons, the tree man and tumors. I can't help it. It's so gross and I love it.
It also got me thinking about the poor cauliflower, which I think is particularly delicious with a little sauce made of mustard and mayonnaise and with cheese broiled on top. But the cauliflower gets compared to everything disgusting that a human can get. Warts? Cauliflowered. 'Roids? Cauliflowered. You've got your cauliflower ear and a yeast infection looks like cauliflower.
So I thought, maybe I will write a comment about the poor cauliflower and disease comparisons and also my mystification regarding why anyone would have anal sex when they have hemorrhoids because it seems quite painful aside from the visual disturbance for the batter.
Turns out, Jezebel has all these rules for posting comments and you have to get approved ahead of time. The way to get approved is by writing a comment that they deem worthy of Jezebel and then they post it and you can post forever.
Which brings us back to my insecurities. I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself up for the scrutiny of the clique. It's just like that time in English class when I wrote a story about mean kids, because I happened to sit in this corner where all of the asshole guys sat and they would just talk shit about people all through class. (I'm sure they're all really successful now, btw). My teacher asked me to read it and I wouldn't do it and he gave me this fixed look and said "Caitlin, I think it's really important that you read this". So then everyone is looking at me and the last thing I want is for these guys who were sitting in my corner to know what I had written. And I might have cried a little.
So maybe my observation that it would probably hurt to have up-the-bum sex when you have a mass of veins protruding from your ass probably wouldn't subject me to later criticism from little boys driving big trucks bought with their daddy's timber money, but it doesn't matter. I am actually back in high school, writing journal entries about my inability to fit in, laughing too hard at the wrong jokes and having crushes on all of the boys who are now gay.
Ugh.
I am going to go to my room, eat a bag of chocolate, hide it under my bed and self-injure.
Comments
I am going to be disabling anonymous comments. Sooo if you're gonna comment, just go ahead and leave your name. Too many weird anonymous comments.
If it is your comment that I just deleted, you are probably a friend of mine and I want to know who you are cuz otherwise I'm a little creeped out.
If it is your comment that I just deleted, you are probably a friend of mine and I want to know who you are cuz otherwise I'm a little creeped out.
Monday, June 2, 2008
OMG update
The landlord has agreed to do People's Court! He's all about it, actually. I am calling the producer tomorrow, so updates will follow.
Also, I am moving out at the end of the month, so now I am looking for places/roommates. Anyone who knows of anyone who's looking and wants to live with meowers should let me know.
AND I'm now freaking out about not finding a job.
BUT I am just turning it all over to The Secret.
Meanwhile, I'm getting my ass to the gym, I'm not gonna be one of those pudgy girls you see on People's Court. I'm gonna do trashy in style!
Also, I am moving out at the end of the month, so now I am looking for places/roommates. Anyone who knows of anyone who's looking and wants to live with meowers should let me know.
AND I'm now freaking out about not finding a job.
BUT I am just turning it all over to The Secret.
Meanwhile, I'm getting my ass to the gym, I'm not gonna be one of those pudgy girls you see on People's Court. I'm gonna do trashy in style!
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Real World: Bed-Stuy - The make-up
My roommate emailed me earlier today to say she wanted to talk about all this drama plus "a couple other things". So I spent all day fretting about what else I could possibly have done.
By the time she came home, she and I had already had about 20 imaginary fights. So it was pretty anticlimactic when we had a mature, calm discussion about her concerns, my sympathetic response to her concerns and then a friendly discussion about the last week's happenings.
I guess it shouldn't really come as a surprise that we fought and made up.
Here is a transcript of a conversation she and I had a while ago:
A: *something something* and then you get mad and slam your door
C: What? When have I ever slammed my door?
A: We got in a fight once and you slammed the door.
C: No I didn't. What fight?
A: Well I don't want to bring it up again.
C: Was it the time we got in a fight about the dairy industry?
A: No.
C: That time you were so mean about me going on a detox diet?
A: No.
C: That time I said the Bushes might be a nice family and you got so mad?
A: No.
C: That time I accidentally invited Nelson over for dinner? (Nelson is a neighborhood crazy. He didn't come for dinner.)
A: No.
C: That time I thought a moth was a cockroach and you called me a fucking idiot?
A: No.
C: That time I said Paris Hilton shouldn't have been in solitary confinement?
A: No.
C: That time we got in a fight about the shroud of turin?
A: No.
C: That time you were going to move out without giving any notice and then Sam turned off our power?
A: No. But you might have that time, too.
C: No I didn't. I give up, when did I slam my door?
A: It was right before our party when you said that you were throwing me a party.
C: OMG!! That time you got so irrationally pissed off because I misspoke. God, you're such an asshole.
Well, so ends another weekend here in Bed-Stuy. All is calm, the cats are looking out the window and I am going to get myself some ice cream.
By the time she came home, she and I had already had about 20 imaginary fights. So it was pretty anticlimactic when we had a mature, calm discussion about her concerns, my sympathetic response to her concerns and then a friendly discussion about the last week's happenings.
I guess it shouldn't really come as a surprise that we fought and made up.
Here is a transcript of a conversation she and I had a while ago:
A: *something something* and then you get mad and slam your door
C: What? When have I ever slammed my door?
A: We got in a fight once and you slammed the door.
C: No I didn't. What fight?
A: Well I don't want to bring it up again.
C: Was it the time we got in a fight about the dairy industry?
A: No.
C: That time you were so mean about me going on a detox diet?
A: No.
C: That time I said the Bushes might be a nice family and you got so mad?
A: No.
C: That time I accidentally invited Nelson over for dinner? (Nelson is a neighborhood crazy. He didn't come for dinner.)
A: No.
C: That time I thought a moth was a cockroach and you called me a fucking idiot?
A: No.
C: That time I said Paris Hilton shouldn't have been in solitary confinement?
A: No.
C: That time we got in a fight about the shroud of turin?
A: No.
C: That time you were going to move out without giving any notice and then Sam turned off our power?
A: No. But you might have that time, too.
C: No I didn't. I give up, when did I slam my door?
A: It was right before our party when you said that you were throwing me a party.
C: OMG!! That time you got so irrationally pissed off because I misspoke. God, you're such an asshole.
Well, so ends another weekend here in Bed-Stuy. All is calm, the cats are looking out the window and I am going to get myself some ice cream.
Real World: Bed-Stuy
The roommate situation hasn't gotten any better as she is now giving me the silent treatment and sending me emails worthy of passive aggressive notes.com. On Thursday night she sent me an email from the next room letting me know that she had transferred money into my bank account for the rent. I emailed her back to let her know that I wasn't going to do the passive aggressive email bullshit. I realized after the fact that sending that as an email was actually just doing that. But in my defense, I rarely see her any more AND she is giving me the silent treatment, so what else am I to do. She wrote me back a hilarious and ridiculous email, which I am going to go ahead and passive aggressively cut and paste here.
"it's the same situation as if one of us were cockroach breeders and one day they all got out, and we expected the landlord to cover it."
this was my favorite part of the email because it doesn't even make sense. Was I breeding bedbugs? Did I do something specifically to warrant having bedbugs? I know she blames me, but I don't know why. Plus it's just a bad argument, if I was breeding bedbugs I certainly wouldn't want them exterminated. She's just not thinking like a breeder and that's where her argument loses power.
"i don't believe that this is about the money for you. it's just another story for you to tell, and it's at the expense of our friendship."
This was actually kind of hurtful, because it makes it seem like I actually have to go out of my way to contrive situations that are worthy of a story. I think we can all agree that I naturally make enough terrible decisions that I shouldn't have to go the lengths of suing someone just to get a good story. That's why the blog is named A Horrible Warning! The story is just a positive benefit of the lawsuit. And her irrational rage at me just makes the story better.
In a later email she tells me that she is angry because she needs the security deposit to move. I think this was her first ever real apartment, so I suppose she can be forgiven for not realizing that you never get the security deposit before you move. But I don't know why someone has not told her that, assuming she has been ranting to others that I am ruining her ability to move b/c we will not be getting back the deposit.
It's also interesting that she is so angry at me about that. I have a right to sue my landlord, and if he wants to do something illegal like vindictively withhold our security then that is a decision that he is making and I can't be responsible for. In general I just don't get her rage.
In sad news, she took our barbecue off the fire escape. I guess that means she's anticipating that we won't get beyond this during barbecue season. Too bad because it's my favorite part of summer.
"it's the same situation as if one of us were cockroach breeders and one day they all got out, and we expected the landlord to cover it."
this was my favorite part of the email because it doesn't even make sense. Was I breeding bedbugs? Did I do something specifically to warrant having bedbugs? I know she blames me, but I don't know why. Plus it's just a bad argument, if I was breeding bedbugs I certainly wouldn't want them exterminated. She's just not thinking like a breeder and that's where her argument loses power.
"i don't believe that this is about the money for you. it's just another story for you to tell, and it's at the expense of our friendship."
This was actually kind of hurtful, because it makes it seem like I actually have to go out of my way to contrive situations that are worthy of a story. I think we can all agree that I naturally make enough terrible decisions that I shouldn't have to go the lengths of suing someone just to get a good story. That's why the blog is named A Horrible Warning! The story is just a positive benefit of the lawsuit. And her irrational rage at me just makes the story better.
In a later email she tells me that she is angry because she needs the security deposit to move. I think this was her first ever real apartment, so I suppose she can be forgiven for not realizing that you never get the security deposit before you move. But I don't know why someone has not told her that, assuming she has been ranting to others that I am ruining her ability to move b/c we will not be getting back the deposit.
It's also interesting that she is so angry at me about that. I have a right to sue my landlord, and if he wants to do something illegal like vindictively withhold our security then that is a decision that he is making and I can't be responsible for. In general I just don't get her rage.
In sad news, she took our barbecue off the fire escape. I guess that means she's anticipating that we won't get beyond this during barbecue season. Too bad because it's my favorite part of summer.
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