click here for moon's grievances (64 posts)
last post - "grievance: coffee cups in the media"
click here for stars' rageouts (35 posts)
last post - "raging out at... looking unassuming"


grievance: being spit on

So about 2 weeks ago, I was sitting outside of work having a cigarette. Right outside of my office's alcove-y thing/entrance, I turned left and sat on the bench-like thing (colored cyan and circled in red) inside the parking garage. Here I have provided you with a "drawing" so you can understand the physicality of this all:

So there I was, enjoying a mid-day cigarette on a warm, sunny afternoon when someone came around the bend from the weird alcove-y thing and straight around the corner, with a full mouth of water, and as he turned, he decided to spit all of this water out. And it just so happen to land ON me.

He felt really bad and all and tried to wipe me off, because I was legitimately covered in his saliva-laced Poland Spring, but I'd just like to know: A. who gargles on the street? and B. How does one become so unaware of his or her surroundings that he thinks he can whiplash 'round a corner and spit? Ew. I wonder if I have swine flu now.


Relatedly: I hope this blog gets me some awesome stalkers who love to spit.


grievance: thinking you can go to work after taking a red-eye l.a.-n.y. flight

What the fuck was I thinking? I must be absolutely insane to think that these events would or could lead to my being able to function this wonderful, rainy Monday morning:

9:15pm L.A.: Get to airport late for a 9:50pm flight;
10:30pm L.A.: Take off from LAX;
11:00pm L.A./2:00am N.Y.: Fall asleep;
11:00pm L.A./2:00am N.Y. - 2:00am L.A./5:00am N.Y.: Sleep really badly due to scary, scary turbulence;
2:15am L.A./5:15am N.Y.: Wake up in rainy, cold, grey New York;
4:15am L.A./7:15am N.Y.: Arrive home;
6:00am L.A./9:00am N.Y.: Get to work and make NO sense whatsoever, i.e. MAJOR SPEAKING FAIL.

So I fell asleep at 11:00pm, woke up after barely sleeping 3 hours and woke up at 5:15am in a different place? I don't know where I am or when I am and I feel like I may possibly be in an episode of Lost.


Judgment Fail.  Itinerary Fail.  Travel Fail.  Person fail.



moon's attempt at "raging out at... people thinking alcohol poisoning is a thing"

This is going to be a “rageout” written on BEHALF of stars but by moon.  We have decided that it would be a great experiment to see how well I (moon) can effectively tell a story from stars’ point of view with stars’ voice and tone.  She has edited it and all of her additions are italicized and all of her omissions are... well... omitted via strikethrough.  Here we go...

-  -  -

So, the other night I was informed that someone I know whom I already find to be of dubious character got alcohol poisoning.  And had to have, and I quote, “an ambulance called on her.”  Not even by someone who knew her… nope, nope, nope… by a random.  And it dawned on me first that that is the most embarrassing, ridiculous thing ever.  What do you even have to DO to get alcohol poisoning? And furthermore, what the hell kind of hijinx were you participating in to force someone to call said ambulance on you? I could give a few examples of my drunken behavior, but I feel the FBI would show up at my door within minutes of posting if I did.  Realistically, if you’re drinking that much, the body’s normal reaction is to throw up.  I wouldn’t even know how to GET alcohol poisoning because I’ve sure as hell tried. taken my body weight down in vodka and never achieved a state of poisoning. 

So then I realized that this is not a thing.  Alcohol poisoning is just seriously not a thing!  It’s not real and it’s not a damn thing.  So stupid.  (Here I’d ask you to “allow” me to explain, but I don’t really give a rat’s ass if you’ll allow me anyway [Two points to Moon for acknowledging how little I care]):

There are nights I’ve drank myself into a comaa legit "how did I wake up with half a pizza on my shoulder?" coma.  If alcohol poisoning were a thing, I’d have it biweekly.  If I have not gotten it yet to have my stomach pumped, it is not a thing 100% fictitious If moon has not gotten it, it is not a thing either then it really and truly is not a thing.  Surely musical lawyer, who actually coined the phrase "losing time," would have gotten it at LEEEEAST once if it were actually a thing.  I mean, realistically there are nights I’ve easily put back 20 drinks.  PLUS shots!!  And I’ve never gotten alcohol poisoning.  Hence... it is not a thing.

I have legitimately seen moon put a way a BOTTLE of Jameson.  Did I have to call an ambulance on her?  Absolutely not.  It did not even enter my mind.  And despite how I can often be a questionable friend, I am perfectly willing to call an ambulance on a friend if need be. There are nights where I’ve seen moon drink so much and oh my god, that she could be considered legally blind in most states. she is practically BLIND.  No ambulance.  All this does is make us want a nice sandwich and an extra large bloody mary for breakfast.

There was a night not too long ago when I left moon on the lower east side and ended up at home (albeit, after several attempts) I had to go to Port Authority to do so and I have legit no recollection of how I got there.  I may have walked.  I may have taken a cab.  You could tell me that I took a goddamned stupid thing with the bikes that guys bicycle you around in with William Baldwin and I’d believe you because I have 100% no idea how I got there. This night was also filled with screaming at a garbage boy, denying my inebriation (the #1 sign that someone is hammer towned), and losing a boot in MY APARTMENT that I still have not managed to locate.

And NOOOOOO one had to call an ambulance on me.  Hence, not a thing.  Alcohol poisoning = not a thing.  Believe me… I’ve been inadvertently TRYING for YEARS.  There’s just no way it’s a thing. 

It makes me furious that people get this thing that is not a thing.  Not.  A.  Thing.


-   -   -

I’d like to add that during the conversation between stars and myself during which these points were made, I said something hilarious which I could not incorporate into a blog from stars’ point of view, so I’m appending it here.  It was:

“You know what… I walked into this conversation thinking that it was a thing.  Because if people tell you that something is a thing enough, you start to believe it’s a thing.  But now I just don’t think it’s a thing.”



grievance: the economy (the sequel)

A follow up to raging out at... the economy: I went to this pizza place near my office called "99 Cent Fresh Pizza" to buy 5 pizzas for something at work. Someone in my office had mentioned before that this has turned into a modern day bread line. And she was right. But the worst part about this, which prompted me to take a video, is that there was a dude on line counting CHANGE from his pocket to buy this pizza. Holy shit. This isn't even funny.

Well... I guess it's a little funny that I awkwardly videotaped it on my BlackBerry, hoping for no one to see. Whoops.



raging out at... looking unassuming

Why is it that, without fail, no matter how many empty seats there are on a bus, the next person to get on will always sit right next to me? I would always prefer no one sit next to me, but I can live with it on a crowded, rush hour day. But as I write this, there are approximately 20 open seats on the bus and of course some man eating a sandwich and speaking Spanish at 135 decibels on his cell phone is directly next to me squashing me into the window.

Screw off, bastards of public transportation.



grievance: corn on salads

I really just don't get it.  I don't think that corn belongs on salads.  At all.  And every time I go get a salad for lunch, there's some asshole in front of me who's getting like the strangest array of shit on his or her salad.  And it always involves corn.  And it makes me hideously angry.  It's an atrocity.

Goddamned atrocity.

A goddamned atrocity which makes me hideously angry.



raging out at... buying birthday gifts

Maybe it's just me, but why is it a million times more difficult to buy a man you're involved with a birthday present? Women are far simpler in at least this one respect. If you've been romantically involved for a long time, you're always safe with diamond earrings. If it's a relatively new relationship or she's a good friend you're hoping for more with, you can always order flowers or some gift basket of lotion and body products. Everywhere practically online delivers these things (in most cases, you can even pay extra if you wait until the actual day you need it). It requires no effort other than having an internet connection and a credit card number.

But not so much for men. Today I'm struggling because every single factor that could come into play to make gift-giving difficult has arisen. I know everyone is beyond excited for me to list all these factors, so please wait no more and allow me.

1. Confusing Ambiguous Relationship Status
I am sure at some point you've attempted to buy a gift for a person you're kinda sorta seeing but is definitely not your boyfriend/girlfriend but has seen you naked and still talks to you so you're not off the hook. Is that sentence confusing? Good, because that embodies exactly how confusing it is to buy this person something. You can't go overboard with the gift because then you look like you're reading more into things than are actually there. But if you're totally thoughtless, you may give off the vibe that you don't care. Fantastic. Does anyone know a website for thoughtful yet nonchalant and breezy gifts?

2. For The Guy/Gal Who Has Everything
It's been said time and again, but truly, what in the holy balls do you buy someone who has everything? Back in the day, it was always relatively simple to buy my broke ass part-time waiter college boyfriend something. There was always some video game or random item he desperately wanted but was too busy spending his 4 dollar paycheck on beer to buy. Not exactly romantic but always much appreciated when I picked it up for him. But as you get older and you start to date not-pothead-waiters, it's much more difficult. If you land yourself a good dude with a great job, you may have hit the life jackpot, but it's the whammy of gift giving - especially if you're anything like me and a good chunk of the American population and are broke as hell. I can see it now. "Hey rich boy, I reached into the depths of my brain and bank account and pulled out this Barnes and Noble gift card for $18.34. No need to thank me, you enjoying 2 and a half magazines is all the thanks I need." Ugh.

3. Not Knowing Someone Quite Well Enough
This actually is only a minor issue, but an issue none the less. Not knowing someone well enough eliminates gag gifts (who knows how they will react?) and tiny gifts that, while inexpensive, are something so perfect for the person that the cost is a non-issue.

4. Birthday On A Sunday
This really sets me off. Inevitably, when you wait until the last minute, you can still have something delivered. Unless, of course, the gift receiver in question's birthday lands on a Sunday. In that case, you're screwed. Nothing says "hey I hope maybe you and I turn into the real deal" better than a box of Snookie's Cookies that arrives a day too late. Outstanding, so now not only does my gift suck but it sucks belatedly.

Well, I should perhaps leave you all with that last one. It is Sunday, after all, and I still haven't bought a gift.



rageful grievance: quitting... AND THEN BEING FIRED!!! (another moon and stars collaboration)

Moon/Stars: We have a little story to tell. We will tell it together.

Moon: So about seven and a half months ago, I got fired from my bartending job and was still very much in a place in my life where I NEEDED to have a bartending job to pay my bills. It was shocking and sudden and all of my connections fell through. I ended up getting a job at a smoking bar/hookah lounge on the lower east side via craigslist, whose name I will omit because this blog will indubitably be horrendous. I mean, stars, we do "do" pretty "weird" and "awful," no? Writing this together, our "doing horrendous" will be magnified, I think.
Moon: now you say something lol
Stars: lol sorry was getting a smoke
Moon: lmao that is crucial.
Moon: i'm actually going include that part lmao
Stars: We have absolutely been known to do weird, horrendous and disrespectful more often than not.
Moon: So, in any event, I spent a couple of months working at this bar. Making zero money (even when adjusting for the recession) but loving the crap out of all of my coworkers. Then my bestie, stars, moves back and needs a quick fix for money while scoping out jobs, so I brought her ass in and got her a job. What exactly did you get hired to do, stars?
Stars: Well, the bar in question started out dicey for me. I came in agreeing to do a handful of shifts checking patrons' IDs with the understanding that I would then be moved to cocktail waitress or bartend. The managers swore they just needed help for those few shifts. So despite my résumé making me qualified to have the majority of the staff there working under me, desperate for cash, I agreed.
Moon: So together we worked in this ridiculous place, making close to no money, but compensating for it by getting really ridiculously hammered and being rude to people.
Stars: Yeah, when working for little to no money (often I made barely more than what the commute to the place cost), we compensated by saving the money we would spend on a night out drinking. And were we awful to people? No question. But before anyone jumps to conclusions, the vibe of the place wasn't exactly "the customer is always right."
Moon: And you often punched people, no?
Stars: Yes, sometimes I punched people. In my defense, it was usually an accident... that does not mean I didn't find it hysterical.
Moon: I'm going to an open a bar CALLED "The Customer is Always Wrong."
Stars: I would go there every day because I am always wrong.
Moon: And I will hire you and their first exposure to the place will be you punching them at the door.
Stars: There's actually a bar in Asia where you can beat the holy hell out of the employees. This would be like that in reverse. It would get press.
Moon: I love that you know that. In any event, stars had been getting into several altercations-via-text a week with one of our managers. And he was losing them all.
Stars: Which I find laughable as the boss should never lose an argument, unless they were born without a pair. Is that too mean? Don't answer because I don't care.
Moon: You never care. In any event, they'd been kind of dicking stars around, giving her shifts, taking them back. And well... me... I have no defense. I just have no regard for rules whatsoever. We're not allowed to drink at work. I like to drink. You can see the incumbent conundrum.
Stars: Hey I found the link!
Moon: You would.
Stars: No, I don't ever care nor did they give me a reason to change my usual behavior. On top of being jerked around for shifts, they also had me come in for unpaid bartending training only to inform me afterward that there were no available shifts. I don't like wasting my time nearly as much as moon likes drinking.
Moon: And I not as much as you. (That's completely extraneous for the story but felt it necessary to use that ridiculous sentence structure 'cause it's funny.)
Stars: I approve of inserting any inane sentence structure at any given moment. Approved.
Moon: Thank you for approval. Not that I care. So, getting back to what happened... a couple of months ago I got a REAL job (don't yell at me, bartenders) using my degree (Political Science) and stuck it out with the bartending for a bit to put a bit of a dent in my accrued college debt. This weekend, I decided I was far too burnt out and "over it," so I put up on Facebook that everyone should come visit me because it'd be one of my last bartending shifts. My manager saw this and pleaded with me to not quit because "everyone loves you" and offered me any shift I wanted, etc. (This is important because [well, I guess you already know due to the title of this] of what ended up happening.) But I essentially gave my "two weeks' notice." Stars, how did you handle giving in your two weeks'?
Stars: Unfortunately, in the case of dueling "notices," the Facebook status update ends up being the classier one.
Moon: Eh... what're ya gonna do?
Stars: This past weekend, I was relegated back to checking IDs after my oh-so-awesome promotion to checking coats. I know, I know, hold your applause. The bouncer I was working with was one I didn't know and a total dick from hell, let's not mince words. He seemed to want to instruct my every move, despite the fact that no one has ever needed a degree in ID Checking. I, of course, complained. My manager begged me to let him think that. I got upset and said I would do no such thing and he could consider this my notice.
Moon: So, while that was going on, I was pretty busy getting HAMMERED and hanging out with my friends... oh yes, that's right about 25 of my (our, actually) friends came in that night to celebrate our friend, Mike's, birthday. So not only was I drinking, and drinking boldly, but I was drinking on camera. And doing a lot of it. And taking a lot of breaks to give relationship counseling to (I swear to God) multiple friends.
Stars: Yes, you did have your hands full that night. I, on the other hand, was trapped in the hallway, missing my friend, Mike's, birthday despite having asked for the night off to enjoy my friend's day.
Moon: So... stars, you're really going to have to take it from here for a little while, because most of the rest of the night is a bit blurry for me. Thanks, Patron. ... and Jagermeister. ... and Jameson. Good ol' Jame-o.
Stars: Well, in all fairness, my sobriety was out the window pretty early on. But long story short, I quit more than once, then was offered moon's Saturday night "money making" shift if I would agree to stay.
Moon: "Money making." (Wry laugh.)
Stars: Seriously. Our post on the economy (raging out at... the economy) was written a day after pulling in cash during one of these big money shifts.
Moon: Touché.
Stars: Regardless, the night ended, though filled with animosity, with both moon and I both having been begged to stay and being promised all kinds of excess if we would not abandon the bar.
Stars: And with both of us having stood firm on our 2 weeks' notices.
Moon: N.B.: I walked out with less than a hundred dollars.
Stars: On a Saturday night?
Moon: On a Satur-goddamned-day night.
Stars: That's pathetic.
Moon: So, on Monday morning, while I was at work, I got a text from a friend who also happens to be one of the managers (however not the aforementioned manger with whom stars was waging war) saying essentially that I'd been FIRED due to drinking at work. FIRED. I'm sorry, but the whole "you can't fire me... I quit" aphorism? Yeah, like, that actually HAPPENED. I immediately shared this news with stars who thought, as did I, it to be the most hilarious thing that had ever happened. Especially because I had acted in no way different on that night than I had for the last seven months and by that I mean, well, ok, umm, I guess, err, I may have a mild drinking problem.
Stars: Ha! Yes, this is a point I hadn't thought of before. Despite our terrible behavior, it was no worse than anything we had done prior. I would even say, without revealing any more, that there were even certain horrible activities that I often partake in that I did not do this past weekend.
Moon: So, no one even technically "fired" me. I had to BBM (Blackberry Messenger message) my "manager" and I swear to the HOLY HEAVENS this is how the conversation went:
Moon: Hey, so should we get on with this?
Manager: ?
[Seriously with the question mark? C'mon.]
Moon: Aren't you supposed to, like, "fire" me?
Manager: Lol I kindof am, but I guess you already know that :)
[Seriously? A smiley face?]
This was all after he called you, though, no, stars?
Stars: Unbelievable. Yes, it was. The "manager" and I had a talk that went something like this:
Stars: Hey "manager," you called? What do you want?
Manager: Just want to let you know we are not going to be doing your shifts this week.
Stars: Great, so I am fired. Fabulous. When can I get my money?
I basically had to fire myself.
Moon: I got a good ol' "well, your shifts are covered from now on." I even said "DON'T YOU HAVE TO FIRE ME OR SOMETHING?" Nothing. ANNNNNND I'd already quit. You. CAN. NOT. make. this. shit. up.
Stars: I don't even think my wild imagination could have invented this. I was also told they were unhappy with "some other stuff." No mention of what said stuff was, just... stuff.
Moon: So, in conclusion... I quit and then I got fired. Is that a good summation of what happened to you? ... ON THE SAME DAY? ... FROM THE SAME PLACE?
Stars: Yep, that paragraph can be quoted VERBATIM for me. What the hell is wrong with these people?
Moon: It can't be us. We are way too awesome.

This is a picture of us from that very night with a caption (via stars) about how no one dares to say a word to us:



grievance: abuse of the english language (english 103 - let's try this one more time)

I get incredibly overwhelmed when people ask me to write more "English 101" blogs, because I am consistently, on an every-goddamned-day basis furious about people's mispronunciations, misspellings, misuse of grammatical forms, misuse of diction and general misapplication of all things language. So when there is such a multitude of vexations, it's difficult to be exhaustive in enumating them. But alas, here we go...

1. "Vehemently" is not pronounced "vehemenently." It's just not. Like... why would you make that word longer? If you're bright enough to be using that word, why would you commit that travesty?

2. There is no such thing as being at someone's "beck and call." It's "beckon call."

3. I'm all for using slang, even ones which aren't typically recognized, usually in the form of a contraction, e.g. "'though," or "should'nt've." I acknowledge that these are, according to strict standards, not considered proper. However, they do indeed follow normal rules of contracting, especially that of using an apostrophe. However, I cannot, cannot, cannot stand when people go out of their ways to be "slang" and end up making the words more difficult. The best two examples of which I can think for this is "ph" v. "f," as in "phat" v. "fat" (and this extends itself; I swear to God I've seen "phreaky" [gag]), and using initialisms (not acronyms [acronyms and initialisms are the same except that you can say an acronym and for an initialism you speak the letters - AIDS is an acronym; C.I.A. is an initialism) that are just as long as the word itself. And example of this idiocy: G.T.H. (Go To Hell). It takes just as many syllables to say "G.T.H" as it does to say "Go To Hell." So seriously... go to hell.

4. It's "skimmed" milk. Not "skim." And certainly not "skin."

5. Please someone... SOMEONE... learn the differences between "though," "thought," "tough" and "tho'." I can't even explain this because it's so fucking stupid.

6. "Accept" and "except" are not the same thing. "Accept" is a verb which means to receive something (loosely). "Except" is an adverb (or preposition, contingent upon how it's used) meaning EXCLUDING. They're NOT EVEN CLOSE TO IN THE SAME REALM OF PARTS OF SPEECH!!!!!!!

6. (Continued). NOT EVEN CLOSE!!!!!

7. Stop spelling things the way they sound. Look them up. If you want to be taken seriously as an adult, you need to know how to speak your native language.

8. D-E-F-I-N-I-T-E-L-Y. NO "A" ANYWHERE IN THERE. I'm assuming that y'all know how to spell "definite." Add a goddamned "ly." End of story.

9. The world "jewelry" is spelled "jewelry." Oh. Wait. You all seem to know how to spell it. I never see anyone misspell it. So why does everyone insist on pronouncing it "jewlery"? For that matter, "February"? Also pronounced the way it's written. FEB-RU-ARY.

10. "Pronunciate" and "orientated" are not words. Ugh!

11. When there is a conjunction noun, such as "head of state" or "mother in law," you have to pluralize the first part of it, not the second, like so: "heads of state" and "mothers in law," not "head of states" and "mother in laws." Think about it.

12. Holy HELL! Why doesn't anyone know how to spell "ridiculous"?!?!?!? No "e." Cute without the E.

13. "Could of" is nothing. I understand that "of" kind of sounds like "have" when spoken quickly. But let me tell your asses: it's "could have."

14. Please stop using "irregardless." It's another one of these things that people have begun to deem acceptable because people are too stupid to just be told something is wrong and not acknowledge and change their behavior. If you do this, that means that you are combining the words "irrespective" and "regardless." "Ir" MEANS "not" or "void of." If you have "less" at the end of the word AND "ir" at the beginning of it, it essentially means WITH. Negative X negative = positive. Next time you say "irregardless," I will strangle you; you're essentially saying something entirely antithetical to that which you're trying to.

15. "The fact of the matter is... is..."!!!!!!! Holy shit!!!

I've had a lot of very educated people with whom I am friends (look ma! I used it right!) tell me in quiet confidence that despite the fact that they try to speak properly and have listened to my (requested) explanations of how to correctly use "whom," they still don't get it, so here, I am going to create a little map in the form of a questionnaire. I'm feeling sassy.
1. Have you ever taken Latin?
No: Proceed to number 2.
Yes: Proceed to number 6.

2. Do you know anything about the parts of speech in English?
No: Proceed to number 3.
Yes: Proceed to number 7.

3. Whenever you are speaking and you use the word "who," try to replace it (in your head) with the proper use of "he"/"him" or "she"/"her". Do you understand what I'm talking about?
No: Proceed to number 4.
Yes: Proceed to 7.

4. The word "he" (let's stick with just "he"; sorry feminists) has several ways of being manifested in English. It is a layover from the way things used to be in Latin, called cases. In Latin, all nouns and adjectives had a case. A "case" is essentially an ending that you'd adhere to a word based on the role the word was playing in the sentence. If it was the subject, it would end a certain way. If it was the direct object (the thing the verb is being done TO, e.g. in "The dog bit the cat," the direct object is the cat), it would have a different ending, and in most cases, it would either be or involved the letter "m" - makes sense for the whole "who"/"whom" bit. Are you following me so far?
No: Proceed to HELL.
Yes: Proceed to number 5.

5. Now that you understand that the ending of the word "who" changes based on its function in the sentence, I can let you know which "functions" necessitate the adding of an "m." "M" is added to "who" in these instances: when it is the direct object, the object of the preposition ("with whom," "to whom," "from whom," "against whom,"), the ("Katie threw whom the ball?" "Whom is Katie talking to?") and... well... any other time of which you could think wherein the "who" does not function as either the subject or the predicative nominative. The predicate nominative is the name of the role which is played by "Katie" in the sentence "That is Katie." "That" is the subject but the linking verb "is" makes "Katie" the predicate nominative. It essentially renames or reattributes to the subject. So, the "cheat" to figure out which case you're is just to take the "who" out and put "he" or "him" in. "He" is the equivalent of "who" and "him" is the equivalent of "whom." So if you take any of my examples, you'd easily be able to tell that it would be "with him" (not "with he"), "from him" (not "from he"), "against him" (not "against he"), "Katie threw him the ball?" (not "Katie threw he the ball?"), etc. The only difficult thing is that when you are using "who" or "whom," it is likely that there is a question involved. The easy way around this is to reverse a question into sentence form like so: "Whom is Katie talking to?" --> "Katie is talking to whom" (... to extrapolate: "Katie is talking to him" (not "Katie is talking to he.") Makes perfect sense to me. I hope this helps. Did it?
Yes: Hooray!
No: Proceed to SECOND GRADE.

6. Any time something is in the nominative case, use "who." Any time it's in any other case ([vocative would be silly here] dative, genitive, accusative or ablative), it's "whom." P.S. you're an asshole for needing an explanation of this if you've taken Latin.

7. Any time "who" is used as the subject, it's" who." If you're using it as an indirect object, direct object, or object of the preposition, it's "whom."

C'est tout.


17. Don't try to use words in foreign languages if you don't know how to use/spell/pronounce them.


raging out at... commuter nightmares

Yes, living in one of the U.S. metropolises whose residents commute to and from their destinations via public transportation can be considered a luxury. During my years in the sunny metropolis of Los Angeles, I can't tell you how many times I cursed the heavens, begging for a subway as I sat on the 405 picnicking on the hood of my car. Or how often I threw my car insurance bill in the trash and pretended that I instead would be using the PATH train to head on over to the paparazzi haven of Wilshire and Robertson.

Well, I take all those pleadings with God and delusional transportation desires back. Every last one. I've been back in my formerly-beloved NY exactly 3 months today and I'm over it. I would sell all the wondrous pizza and bagels and 4am bar debacles to have my old (often stolen) Nissan Altima back.

In the three months since I've been back, in addition to the pushing and shoving and generally foul body odor of other commuters, I have run into every one of the 5 commuters I despise. (Now here comes the part where I describe each and tell you just why they're a disgrace to humankind.)

#5 The Horrific PDA Couple
Let me state for the record that other than the occasional drunk lapdance I give a friend, I'm generally pretty opposed to PDA on a whole. I can live with your hand-holding and occasional smooching (unless I'm in a tumultuous boyfriend catastrophe of my own... in which case, those people can go to hell), but beyond that is a travesty and a bit of a nightmare. En route to some lower east side dive bar last week, my new roommate C and I were subjected to an absolutely vulgar display. On a very crowded PATH, the girl who may-or-may-not-have-taken-ecstasy was giving her boyfriend/fuck buddy/guy she just met a very blatant handjob. No one wants to see that. And plus, handjobs shouldn't be given over the age of 15. They're embarrassing. They're the Dungeons and Dragons of sexual acts.

#4 Friends Who Elect to Sit a Few Seats Away From Each Other
Now frankly, I don't care if you don't want to sit next to your buddy on the train. I need a break from some of my pain-in-the-ass friends sometimes, too. But do not elect to sit a distance apart when there are seats available next to each other and then scream a conversation about how the girl your brah' screwed last night may or may not have been cross-eyed. I will tell you what. I sat there and stared at said brah' and I can tell you she most definitely had to have been cross-eyed and also unbelievably blackout drunk.

#3 iPod Bastards
Headphones were made for a reason... so everyone else in the world doesn't have to sit and suffer through your playlist of various Miley Cyrus music, gangsta rap and bachata tunes in a language I do not speak. And without fail, I always end up next to these people at an obscene hour. Last week, I was next to bachata girl who was not only blaring the music but shimmying in her seat at 4am when I was hammered and trying my best not to put the remnants of a margarita all over her lap. Or this morning, some charmer listening to all kinds of Ride or Die when I had woken up at the obscene (for me) hour of 7am. I want these people to die.

#2 Psycho Man in Suit Who Is Whacking Off
Let me address the attire anger first by saying I do not enjoy anyone who likes to whack off on a train I am in, regardless of what they happen to be wearing. A few weeks back, in the midst of basically the worst week of my life, I was on a train heading to the fabulous and fun doctor, so clearly I am already joyful. On a moderately crowded train, I notice a man out of the corner of my eye with his hand down his pants. I silently prayed that he was just making a really public reorganization of his package situation. Yeah, not so much. Slowly but surely, this well dressed man unzipped his clearly expensive designer pants and went to FULL ON BUSINESS with his mini designer wang. I almost vomited and definitely teared up a little. And if you're exhibiting this behavior while wearing designer duds, I am definitely sure you are a serial killer. And I don't think I'm alone in not wanting to share a train with a goddamn serial killer.

#1 (And I have just decided these are in no particular order as I hate whackoff man the worst)
Bastards Who Will Not Move When It Is Your Stop
The subway makes multiple stops. This isn't a surprise. Nothing (again, besides whackoff man) angers me more than these people. On many occasions, I have had to forcibly shove people out of the way so I can get off at my goddamn stop . There have even been times when I have missed my stop because of people's inability to get the hell out of my way. I know it pains you greatly to let go of your germ-infested metal pole for even a second, but let me the hell off when it's my turn! I don't want to be around any of you nightmare commuters for one second more than I have to.

In closing... fuck the hell off, subway and PATH train.


grievance: the series finale of the l word *spoiler alert*

Look at this crapola. "i killed jenny."

I'm furious. Absolutely furious. I just spent, what, 6 years of my life watching a show, following plotlines, seeing characters DIE... and then this?! Really, Executive Producer/Creator Ilene Chaiken? Seriously?

Okay... so for those of you who don't know, The L Word was the show which essentially took Queer As Folk's place in terms of being edgy and breaking down walls which previously existed for same-sex relationships being portrayed on television. I watched it live from the very first episode (it's premiere directly followed some big season or series finale, I think). And I thought it was incredibly well done and interesting and entertaining. And I think it did do what it intended to. Because after a while, it seemed really mundane. Which is apparently why it ended. Because it wasn't edgy enough anymore. And for that, I'm really happy, actually. I like gay people. More than most straight people. Topic for another blog.

Anyhow, they set up, from the very beginning of this last season, that one of the main characters, Jenny Schecter, portrayed by the lovely and talented Mia Kirshner, ends up dying. And the first episode is in real-time, during which the police are "investigating" what seems to be her "murder." And the entire last season is spent leading up to those events. Which is incredibly thrilling and exciting. At times, however, it did become annoying. Because up until about mid-way through last season, Jenny Schecter was a pretty loveable character. She had moved to L.A. with her boyfriend and been "seduced" by this woman (whom I don't think is altogether that hot but is supposed to be this sex pot of sorts) and gets in touch with her true sexuality, dumps the boyfriend and then goes through a mess of heartbreaks and emotional problems. The entire last season is her systematically pissing all of the other main characters off, each saying some variation of "I'm gonna kill Jenny Schecter" after the events have transpired.

And every single time, you have this moment, as a viewer, where you think "oh God. Could this have been any more staged? It's almost laughable." But you continue on.

So the series finale comes. And everyone's all raged up. Everyone is ready to "kill Jenny Schecter." And they're all at a party which she's essentially put together as a sort of send-off for main characters Bette (Jennifer Beals) and Tina (Laurel Holloman). And they keep setting characters up to be alone with her. And the other character does something sheisty, like Kit (Pam Grier) closing the drapes, etc. etc., blah blah blah. And the whole time, I'm sitting there rolling my eyes, making bets with my roommate on who's gonna do it. And every 45 seconds, we change our minds. Because they're trying to make it as suspensful as they possibly can.

And then... they leave it entirely open-ended. Like, you could guess. But you could guess SEVERAL different options. And I'm simply NOT DOWN WITH THAT. You might as well have just not ended it. Not even done this season. It's not cute. It's not kitschy. It's not innovative. It's a really creepy thing to do to your audience who has been loyal for so many years.

Go to hell, L Word.



grievance: subtitles

I just got into the show Lost. And it's a major, major problem in my life. Especially because I'd just started a new job when I started watching the show. So I basically have no life whatsoever because when I'm not doing work or at work, I'm watching Lost. Oh well. I guess there are worse things than a TV show to which I could be addicted. And let me tell you: it really has become an addiction. (I started watching on Saturday, March 7th and today, on Sunday, March 15th, I'm in the middle of season 2. Kind of problematic.)

With that said, this is not "Grievance: My Inability to Stop Watching Lost." It is, as is titularly expressed, a grievance for subtitles, grammatically speaking. And I'm so upset that it had to be brought to my attention via my new favorite show, but so it has.

Today watching an episode, an entire portion of the dialogue was spoken in Korean and subtitled into English. And not once, but TWICE, did the subtitlers (?) make a grammatical mistake. And the same one. Hey, I guess they're at least consistently stupid.

Of course, I got up on my high horse and decided to not only take a screen-freeze of both (which may get me in trouble for some kind of copyright replication violation or something - oh well) but to also take a veritable "red pen" to this "paper." Ugh...

I've laid this point out in excruciating detail in "grievance: abuse of the english language part deux (english 102)." ("5. Commas ALWAYS go inside quotation marks. As do periods. It doesn't make sense. But you HAVE to do it that way. Tough shit.") And I am, as Tommy would say, "comfortable with" the fact that no one acknowledges or cares about grammar. But the thing "with" which I am not "comfortable" is that this is, like, the most expensive television show EVER. And they don't have ONE single person on staff who understands the rules of grammar? Especially the people who are DOING the subtitles? I would assume that if you're going to pour THAT much money into a television show that you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself with something as easily-caught as this.

And it's kind of insulting to the American people that no one over at Lost cared enough to hire someone who was, I don't know, able to write properly? That no one there thought it salient enough an issue? That no one thought "hey, tons of people are watching this. Let's not further sully the utter conflagration that is the English language?"

That's all.



grievance: people not being able to handle daylight savings time

This is not going to be long, but it's been a full 24 hours since I became annoyed/upset by this and I'm still annoyed/upset by this. Yesterday I received an absolute INFLUX of friends messaging me about how they were "wah, so tired," and annoyed that they'd lost an hour of sleep due to setting the clocks an hour forward.

I bartended Saturday night and THAT is in fact when the clocks were turned forward. I lost an hour of work, so I know. And I also work during the days Monday-Friday, so I'm also concerned with my circadian rhythm. But I'm sorry... D.S.T. has been observed for as long as... well, I don't know, but I'm sure you can "wikipedia" it. And it IS what it freakin' IS.

The reason I'm so annoyed is because it's one hour of sleep. One night. And it's not even on Sunday night. It's technically on Saturday night/Sunday morning. So while you may be a little disconbobulated on Sunday day, there's no way that you're actually losing an hour of sleep on Sunday night. And the reason it's so abhorrent that people complain about this is because having it get dark at night at 5:00 pm is INCREDIBLY depressing. Leaving your office and not being able to see daylight is not good for the soul. It's one of the things that makes winter so damned depressing.

When this starts, it's also the sign the spring and summer are coming. And that is so WONDERFUL. Especially with the depressive states everyone has been in all year due to economic recession/depression/awfulness. Are people so far gone into depression land that they can't just deal with one hour's loss? So annoying. Be an adult, crybabies. Unless it's "your party." Then you can "cry if [you] want to." Ahhh... the 80s.


P.S. To all my friends who complained to me: if you read this, I don't care if you're offended. At all.


grievance: cab drivers who talk too much

I got into a cab the other day and I was so hungover that I was pretty much still hammered until about 8 o' clock (Post Meridian) the next day. So naturally, I was already absurdly nauseated.

So the insane driving nature which seems to be a prerequisite to being a cab driver was already making me close my eyes, open the window and pray to not hurl everywhere. 3 blocks later, my cab driver decides to (attempt to) enter into a discourse with my inebriated ass. About complete and utter inanity. And was also not really even paying attention to what I was saying but kind of just enjoyed hearing himself speak.

As an aside, I'd like to say that I empathize with cab drivers. A LOT. They have an incredibly difficult job and are entirely under-appreciated. With that said, I had no use for this man at all. I was polite but also quite obvious in my lack of desire to communicate. I hate small talk as a general tenet. But he also got off on the wrong foot because he had music blaring when I got into the cab and didn't turn it down when I received a phone call. This also quite exacerbated my horrendous hangover (from) hell. ("From" is obviously used parenthetically in order to engender alliteration. ...Obviously.)

In any event... On top of this... My cab ride was 15 dollars from 38th and 2nd to 61st and Lexington due to this dude being a total moron. I was so angry by the time I got there.

And then I paid.

And... (this is the kicker) TIPPED HIM FIVE DOLLARS. For being "nice." For being "friendly." Because I felt odd giving an appropriate tip after having gotten to know a little about this annoying, annoying man. I never ever ever want to talk to people I don't know. And when I get forced to, such as how I was here, I'm angry about it. And then I apparently "reward" this dude by giving him more money?

How is this acceptable?

I realize now that this grievance should really be entitled "Grievance: My Stupid Ass."



raging out at... unexpected marriages

This affliction is a particularly nasty one. I myself experienced it about a year ago, but in light of it affecting 3 of my friends in the past few months (2 in the last 24 hours!), I feel compelled to speak out against it.

There are a few different things I will categorize as unexpected marriages and different degrees to which they cause pain. I'd like to present mine and my beautiful (and all single) ladies' dealings to show you all the four different types. All names and identities have been altered to protect the heartbroken.

Code Green: The Loss of a Killer Fuck Buddy
Code Green is the demon that I had to face. You may remember a gentleman from "raging out at... inappropriate ways of finding out information," the man who was a random guest speaker in the class I TAed. We will call him the Sexual Predator, or SP for short.

SP and I had a relationship of sorts over the course of a few years. I could always count on him to hook me up with tickets, be around when I was single and lonely or angry and wanting revenge on a cheating boyfriend, and to basically traumatize me in the best way possible with his complete and utter sexual deviance. (Or perhaps he traumatized me in the worst way possible, as all subsequent boyfriends have looked upon ME as the deviant. C'est la vie.)

Regardless of the fact that I never had any real feelings towards SP other than gratitude and horror, when I found out he had gotten married, it stung. And the worst part of it was the news was delivered by a particular cheating ex-boyfriend whom I had needed SP to work through. Double goddamn whammy and a loss that left a gaping hole in my need to be absolutely vile in the boudoir.

Code Orange: The Loss of Your First Time
One of my favorite ladies, Vanessa, lost her virginity a little later in life than most of my other slutty friends. She finally gave it up to a British man named Thomas. Tommy and V were never officially a couple but they carried on their affair on the regular for over a year. Then one day Tommy met Pigerella (her real name- Scout's honor!) and it was a wrap for V and Tommy. V, like your pal Stars, never had any kind of deep-rooted feelings for Tommy so she plowed past that one pretty quickly. Frankly, I think if Thomas hadn't been her first, it may not have affected her at all. But he was and so it did.

And so yesterday she gets a phone call from a friend who works in Tommy's office, telling her that the rumor around the water cooler is that Tommy and V are in Hawaii and he's planning to propose on Valentine's Day. As if Valentine's Day isn't crummy enough, did V need to deal with that? And to add insult to injury, this tattletale friend of hers isn't exactly her favorite person on Earth and the kinda friend who likes to think that every single person is jealous of her relationship. Awesome times.

Code Red: The Ex-Boyfriend Who Marries Someone New 2 Weeks After Breakup
This is where we start to get into some really hairy territory. My gal Lauren suffered one of those particularly devastating heartbreaks recently. She and Alex hadn't dated for a very long time, but it was one of those intense relationships that moves fast and furious. It ended far before Lauren was ready for it to be over. When the news of his marriage broke, she was still in the crying and screaming and plotting to get him back stage of the breakup.

And what was truly rubbing salt in the wound of this catastrophe (as if doing it a mere 14 days post breakup wasn't bad enough!) was that he married a brand new girl... not an old friend or a rekindled ex. A BRAND NEW GIRL.

And how, you might ask, did Lauren find out about the nuptials? Via the internet. Via the goddamn internet. I would certainly hope if I were going to do something like that to that unbelievably recent of an ex, I would have the balls to let them know and not let them find out in some roundabout way. 'Though I suppose if you are classless enough to pull a stunt like that, the proper social etiquettes are probably far beyond your realm of understanding anyway.

Code Blue: Loss of the Man You Dated For 9 Years
And this one may sting worst of all. I think at this point, we can all agree that the news of a former flame getting married is never a pleasant experience. Sure, sometimes it's more annoying than painful, but it is never fabulous news to hear, especially when you have not yet taken the plunge. And sometimes it is just the worst news of all.

My friend Violet dated Andrew for 9 long years. Their relationship was one of the most tumultuous I have ever witnessed (albeit second hand), but they loved each other. Andrew was the kind of guy who would buy Violet dresses for their unborn (and not even yet conceived) daughter. They had a tendency to make up and break up a lot, but Violet always assumed that when she one day walked down the aisle, it would be Andrew waiting for her at the other end.

When Violet found out the news, she and Andrew had been apart for about a year and a half. Long enough for her to have moved on and found a new boyfriend, but Violet, being the old romantic that she is, had still never fully given up hope on Andrew. Maybe that's her fault, but that's just who she is.

In a play from the Stars playbook, Violet stumbled across their wedding website while Googling Andrew's name. On top of the news, she was also subjected to photos, the proposal story and a million other details no one should ever have to live with. I think we all hate the internet.

The point is, this sucks. People get married and people move on from their past relationships. If we never moved on, I would still be pining over a dude who is now a semi-professional wrestler with GREEN HAIR. (Man, I have dated some real gems.) So we will all take the bad of this and hope that someday, we do the same to crappy exes of ours. Moral of the story here is perhaps a little courtesy would be nice. If we broke up two weeks ago, dated for 9 years, had sex within the last 2 months or if I am just gonna hear about it anyway, it would be a lot better coming from your mouth. Or maybe there is no moral and I am grumpy and bitter.

- stars


grievance: the city

The Hills' spin-off The City is just a complete and utter waste of time.
The Hills and its spin-off The City are just complete and utter wastes of time.

With that said, The Hills at least had some entertainment value and actually kept me tuning in each week.
With that said, The Hills placed a spell on me and I kept watching it despite the fact that every single episode made me dumber and dumber.

The main distinction between the two shows, besides the obvious locale change, is that the primary show wasn't OFFENSIVE. The City's Olivia Palermo actually makes me want to move away from New York City and pretend I never went to private school on the Upper West Side. And it's actually making Whitney (formerly the most likeable and normal, unjaded character of The Hills) look like a fucktard for listening to her spout her elitist garbage.

Paraphrased Transcript of a Scene From Last Week's Episode:
Whitney: I think we should really go now (to The Cutting Room) to see Jay's (her boyfriend) show.
Olivia: No. I need to try on the same exact Diane Von Furstenberg blazer as I have on in ALL black, because I'm such an spoiled brat I think that the only way I can go to a "rock show" is by wearing all black.
Whitney's Nondescript, Inconsequential Friend Whose Name I Don't Remember... Probably Because She's Brunette: Umm... you don't have to wear all black to go to a rock show.
Olivia: Whatever. I love my life. Let's drink champagne and make fun of other people. So does this exact same blazer in black look exactly the same as the white one but more rock? I wouldn't want to offend all of your stupid, low-life hipster friends and boyfriend, Whitney.
Whitney: Yeah... it's classic. But can we go now? Seriously. The show is already starting and we're nowhere near it.
Olivia: Oh PLEASE. Can't we take like 45 more minutes to look through my glorious closet? It's not like they're going to start the show without us. They'll stall 'til we get there.
Whitney: Umm... is this your disgusting cousin's sock lying around?

All I'm saying is that this show sucks. Whitney... girl... why'd you turn into a crapbag?



raging out at... the economy

No, this is not going to be an extensive blog about the dismal state of affairs of our current economic climate. You all know, you're all probably living it. I really just want to share the conversation that moon and I just had.

Moon: Dude, I just bought a drink in quarters. Cool economy.
Stars: Dude, I just had half a Chunky for lunch. Outstanding economy.
Moon: Thank god I have 3 more dollars on my Metrocard. Hooray! I can get home! Dodged a bullet there.
Stars: Mine has $1.75.

Ok what the hell is that? And how is that conversation not even been subjected to the usual stars' exaggeration and still looks like that?

I may be licking my Chunky wrapper for dinner.


grievance: people's distaste/scaredness of google maps "latitude"

This new technology by Google is absolutely amazing. And the fact that everyone is freaked out by it is both silly and annoying. And is ruining its potential. For those of you who don't know...

Google Maps has created an add-on called Latitude which essentially allows you to connect to friends on Google Maps and see where they are at any given moment.

If ONE more person says "That's so Big Brother" to me, I will punch him or her in the eye.

It's not at ALL Big Brother-esque. You have to individually request each person. It's not as if you enter into this contract with the devil and then every single person you've ever met can track you down at every single moment. As you can see, I only have a handful of friends who are technologically savvy enough to be on it as well. And some of them, like my roommate (who is currently at work, I can see), were completely unlikely candidates to embrace such technology. But she has. And it's been incredibly fun! "Hey... I see you're about a block away. Are you at D'Agostino's? Can you pleeeeease pick up some butter?" And I was. And I did. And she made a scrumptious dinner.

Now to calm some nerves and address some concerns, I will outline some of the magnificent aspects of this amazing program so that hopefully everyone will CHILL THE HELL OUT and embrace it.

1. (As stated above...) You have to individually request each person. If you want one person to be able to see you and are scared of some other person seeing your whereabouts, you don't have to be "friends" with them.
2. You can turn it off and sign out whenever you'd like and will no longer appear on anyone's map.
3. (And best of all...) You can LIE. You can set your location to a fixed place and say you're in Chicago if you so choose. Although I'm not a fan of Chicago and wouldn't do that.

I saw today that my friend was in Atlanta. And after asking him if he was LYING and was really in New York, thought it was so cool that I knew that he was on a business trip to Atlanta. And we discussed the weather and the like (all via BBM: another wonderful technology) and truth be told, as much as I love this person, I probably would never have had that conversation at all. And it's all due to Google Latitude. ...Bringing Us All a Little Closer Together.

So cut the shit. No one is going to stalk you. If you're going to write about your every damned move on (note: these are all links to MY pages 'cause I'm a technology junkie and self-aggrandizing fool) Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, Tumblr, your blog, your AOL Instant Messenger away message, your Google Chat status message, your LinkedIn, your BBM status (mypin: 31be47d2) and for fuck's sake, maybe even your now-defunct Friendster account (I don't even have one of those anymore)... chill the hell out with the "That's so Big Brother" bullshit.



grievance: facebook statuses' grammar

I am shocked to my very core that Facebook actually took down the "is" as part of its status template and now leaves it there for optional use.

By what I am even more shocked is that despite this, people continually use it... and use it WRONG. And what I mean by this is the statuses' predication upon a particular kind of sentence format, namely a person speaking about him or herself in the third person.

Now I'm not knocking people who outwardly go against this sentence structure by either eliminating the "is" after their names or writing something after the "is" which is clearly supposed to go against the structure, like a song lyric or simply a noun, e.g. "Jenn DOUGHNUTS!" or "Jenn is Barack Obama is the shit." I am okay with this kind of erratic grammar solely because it is purposely crafted to be so.

My problem is with people who are too dumb to realize that when they start a sentence about themselves in the third person, they must continue to do so throughout the sentence. The following hypothetical statuses do NOT make sense:

"Jenn is so tired I think I'm going to take a bubble bath and go to bed."
Should be: "Jenn is so tired she thinks she's going to take a bubble bath and go to bed."
"Jenn is studying for a PoliSci exam. OMG I'm soooo gonna fail."
Should be: "Jenn is studying for a PoliSci exam and is sooo gonna fail."

I'm assuming that this makes sense and needs not more examples. All I'm saying is that it's ABOVE infuriating to see this kind of crap on my status update page because it is a blatant offense on the structure of modern English. I understand that my rules for speaking are far more stringent than those for others... but casualisms and slangitudes are really what deteriorate language... and our language already sounds like untrained colloquial drivel.

I'm all about technology, but before Facebook... at least people could maintain the same pronoun and subsequent verb form. At least 'til the next SENTENCE began! Pish posh.



grievance: bar etiquette (2)

As my bartending days seem to be coming to a very (welcomed) end, I thought it best to address this very small grievance. It is, of course, for the greater good of humanity to understand that this behavior about which I am about to rage is NOT acceptable.

A patron walks into the bar and asks the bartender "what kind of beers do you have on draught?" Already pretty damned annoying seeing as the draught beers are inherently on display. They are IN FRONT of you, patron. But fine. So the bartender either points (if he or she is in a bad mood) or spells it out and lists every single one there is.

"Sam Adams... Stella... Blue Moon... Guinness... Brooklyn Lager... Amstel...."

Herein lies the idiocy:

"Do you have Newcastle?"

And then the bartender goes into a J.D.-from-Scrubs-like-daydream in which he or she jumps across the bar and strangles the person to death.

If you asked me what was on draught and I told you, why would you ask me if I have something else? WHY? Do you think that I'm telepathic and I know exactly which beer it is that you would like and am trying to torture you by hiding the fact that I have exactly what you want?

I seriously think these people should be knocked over the head with a pint glass.