Pet Peeves - Part 1

One of my favorite shows is “Late Night with Jimmy Fallon”, and it’s not just because I interned there, although that may have swayed my opinion slightly. Jimmy sometimes does a sketch where he dresses up like Robert Pattinson, climbs in a tree, and discusses things that bother Robert. Not surprisingly, the sketch is called “Robert is Bothered.” In the past, things like Valentine’s Day, sharks, Snickers, and even “New Moon” have bothered Robert. If you haven’t seen any of these sketches yet, I highly recommend Googling them; there’s some really funny stuff.

In the vein of Robert is Bothered, I have decided to come up with a list of some things that bother me.

1. Shorthand texting
I’ll admit to doing this sometimes when I’m in a rush, but there is no excuse for receiving a text like “Cn’t w8 2 c u!” It doesn’t look efficient, it just looks dumb and it makes you look dumb for sending it. It’s okay to shorten the occasional word, although if people wrote the actual word instead of a 2, they might finally learn the difference between to and too…

2. Tourists in New York City
This can probably be widened to tourists in general, but I live in New York City so I’ll use that as my reference point. For starters, tourists walk too slowly. Why, do you ask? It’s probably because they take pictures of everything. The buildings are tall, I get it, but that doesn’t mean it’s necessary to photograph every free-standing structure from Rockefeller Center to Canal street, and there is certainly no need to look like an extra from a Richard Simmons workout video while doing so. The straw that broke the camel’s back was when I was eating in a restaurant with my sister and witnessed a tourist take out her camera so she could take a picture of the hamburger she was about to eat. Last I checked, hamburgers are not a particularly unique food, and the thousands of McDonalds restaurants worldwide are proof of that very fact. To be fair, my own father is somewhat similar to the tourists I have been referring to, although in his defense he has never photographed a hamburger. But if there is a majestic tree in the distance or some ancient rock formation, he whips the camera from his fanny pack faster than the oil currently spewing into the Gulf of Mexico. This is why, while on family vacations, I try to stay 10 feet away from him at all times.

3. Ridiculously unhealthy food
America has long been a haven for unhealthy food and gargantuan portions, but with the recent introduction of things like Coldstone’s PB&C Shake (a milkshake with peanut butter and chocolate that’s equivalent to eating 68 pieces of bacon) and KFC’s Double Down (a sandwich with bacon, cheese, and two fried chicken fillets instead of bread) it’s easy to see why the French hate us. With the exception of Jacques Cousteau, I’m not a big fan of the French, but I agree with them on this front despite the fact that I also think the PB&C Shake sounds delicious. However, there is a silver lining to this morbidly obese cloud; the Double Down can be made with grilled chicken instead of fried chicken, welcome news to those of us watching our figures…

4. Equally ridiculous names
Someone just relayed a story to me about a little girl named Na-a (pronounced NAH DASH AH, of course) and that name is nothing short of ridiculous. Symbols should never be a part of one’s name, and there is nothing left to do but blame the awful pop singer Ke$ha for this stupid trend. It is also not okay to name your child Phinneaus, Apple or Banjo. Even celebrities should stay away from giving their offspring names that make them sound like they’re a character from The Odyssey, and names that are nouns.

Here’s hoping that whatever job I do eventually land will not involve a tourist named Banjo who says “g2g ttyl!” while wolfing down a nice 2,010 calorie PB&C shake.

Really, Google?

Yesterday, when I sat down to write my third blog post, I couldn’t think of anything interesting enough to write. This morning, when I found myself in the same position, I did one of the only things my generation seems to do right, I googled it. Sure enough, when I typed “blog idea” into the search box, I got tons of results instantly. (NOTE: Before I go on, I want to acknowledge that I’m aware my use of Google this early in the game is embarrassing, and like Kate Gosselin after every “Dancing with the Stars” performance or Wayne Brady when he sees himself in those Coffee Mate commercials; I am ashamed.) Out of sheer desperation, I clicked the first result; a page called “101 Great Posting Ideas That Will Make Your Blog Sizzle,” I knew that I should have been wary of the use of the word sizzle when not referring to the gourmet restaurant chain of a similar name, or global warming, but like I said, I was desperate. Below is a list of some invaluable ideas that I borrowed from this page THAT have helped me immensely. (Please, tell me you can feel the sarcasm.)

1. Answer your readers’ questions with more questions.
My issues with this idea are twofold. One: I’m pretty sure I only have one reader and I am related to her (hi, Mom!) Two: Answering peoples’ questions with more questions is ridiculous. My blog is not an episode of “Lost”.

2. Write a funny post.
Seriously? No shit your posts should be funny. How boring must your blog be if you really take the advice to “write a funny post”? Funny is all I’ve got. I’m pretty sure no one wants to hear my opinions on health care or immigration.

3. Make a post turning a negative into a positive through humor ( e.g., “My parents tell me I’m autistic. I tell them they have an attitude problem.”).
I sincerely hope the example used here was a joke, although considering that utter lack of humor anywhere else on this page, one can never be too sure. First of all, I’m pretty sure that “joke” doesn’t even make sense. Second of all, if your parents have just told you that you’re autistic, it seems to me like you have bigger things to worry about aside from making your blog more interesting.

Overall, this webpage is incredibly amusing and not at all inspiring, despite the fact that it did inspire me to write this blog post…

Diplomas: Friend or Foe?

Today, the indisputable highlight of my day was a trip to the dentist’s office to get a cavity filled. Thrilling, I know. Either way, it got me thinking about the point in our lives at which we choose our professions. Are we born destined to pick one profession over all others? Do our everyday experiences shape who we will later become and then influence what we choose to do with our lives? Or is it some combination of the two? I know I sound like Dr. Phil or a sub-par high school psychology textbook right now, and that isn’t my intention; really. Yet as I sat in my dentist’s office, I couldn’t help but picture a little kid whose lifelong ambition it was to monitor the oral hygiene of fellow man, and that just made me laugh. Imagine if you will, a young boy carrying around a lifetime supply of floss and swearing off things like Milky Way and Swedish Fish as though they were the devil incarnate. Maybe it’s just me, or maybe it’s the fact that in the midst of my unemployment even “The Real Housewives of New Jersey” can pass for quality television, but I find this funny. (Disclaimer: I mean no offense to any dentists. I actually find dentists to be a particularly jovial breed of doctor, and have no issue with them whatsoever so long as they aren’t removing or drilling large holes into any of my teeth.)

Personally, I know that I wasn’t born wanting to write. In school, writing was something I was told I was good at, so I stuck with it. Believe me, if you had seen me try to solve a proof in geometry or cry my way to a C in physics, you would understand why I ran towards the written word faster than Lindsay Lohan could ever stumble her way over to an open bar.

While still waiting in my dentist’s office, I noticed his pristine white diploma hanging on the wall. To be honest, diplomas have long irked and confused me. How is it that one piece of paper can symbolize 4 years (or more) of education? How the hell do they expect to be taken seriously looking like a prop from one of the Harry Potter movies or a party favor from Medieval Times? My diploma, bless its’ so far useless heart, is still caught up in the giant web of bureaucracy that is NYU, and probably won’t be in my possession for at least 6-8 weeks. Like a lonely man waiting for his mail-order bride, I eagerly, yet somewhat nervously, await its arrival.
I realized though, that while I may not yet have that one piece of paper that symbolizes my education, I do have roughly 126 others. More specifically; one half hour television script, two one-hour television scripts and the beginnings of a pilot.

But still no job…

First Post (Pilot Post, if you will)

Now nearing the end of my second full day as an unemployed, recent college graduate, I’m beginning to realize that unemployment isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. For years when I was younger I often fantasized about being one of those people that could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted (this was the ultimate way of sticking it to the man, I thought) yet so far, this fantasy, like most before it, has proven to be a complete bust. There is only so much “Keeping Up with the Kardashians” I can watch before I actually feel my brain shrinking and the Armenian back hair growing, and only so much Bejeweled I can play before everything around me starts to resemble sparkling gems that must be obliterated.
When I mentioned to my mom that I was thinking of starting a blog, the first thing she asked me was, “what are you going to write about?” It’s no secret to me that my mom thinks I lead a generally uninteresting life, so this question was of little surprise to me. I don’t particularly enjoy going to random bars that smell of stale beer and contain the last slivers of the hopes and dreams of aging frat boys, and the last celebrity I got excited about seeing was news anchor Brian Williams sunbathing in the 30 Rock plaza. Therefore I must admit that my mom made a valid point. That’s when I decided that the purpose of this blog would be to help me get a job. I’m still not exactly sure how this is going to work, or what I will write about in my posts, but that’s neither here nor there. If I may steal a line from the 1989 cinematic gem “Field of Dreams”, “If you build it, they will come.”

Right?!