Dirt bag

I am the girl with the dark eyes and long black hair that's soft and curly and neat. I am the badass ninja girl with tattoos and knee high black boots. I am the cute pink-cheek girl with the flower headband and sweetheart neckline. I am the intellectual girl who has read the classics and can talk about things like objectivity and subjectivity and Ayn Rand. I am the super nerd girl with wire-rim frames who can kick your ass in anything Nintendo. I am the girl with the shaved head. I am the short girl who needs help getting sugar from the top shelf. I am the bitch who will tell you your hair looks fugly and don't ever talk to me again. I am the blonde girl at the mall with the short skirt. I am the bartender with the french cuffs and ratty blue jeans who has the answers to all your problems. I am the girl who flirts with you when your girlfriend leaves the room. I am the girl who puts out on the first date. I am the insomniac girl who is good at Scrabble and has a pen pal in Ireland. I am the girl whose belly you stare at when she lifts up her arms to fix her hair. I am the girl on whose number you pause when you scroll through your address book.

xoxo

pem

Musket

I had a dream and it was all shades of gray. There was an assembly line and there were whirring noises and the belt was tattered and the edges frayed. A man with a tattoo had his cuffs rolled up and hanging from his dry cracked lip was a flaccid cigarette that was stuck there by a bit of moisture. His tongue sounded like sandpaper and his fingernails were dirty and cracked and there were bits of cuticle in pretty little curls at the end of each finger and it looked painful but I kept looking. He stared at me sideways and pretty soon his eyes were in his temples like a human in utero but I didn't look at his face, I just stared at the grooves where the filth accumulated in his thick fingernails.

His sandpaper tongue moved past the opening of his mouth and back in again like a robot. the deep valleys in his face collected sweat that collected dust and his nostrils flared up. pretty soon his neck got tired like an old toy that was played with too hard and synapses started to misfire and he drooped down a little more each time the belt brought a new hunk of metal and wire.

Then a cartoon whistle exhaled some steam with such force that the whole room bellowed up and everyone collapsed, but the belt kept whirring and machines were clanking and parts of car were piling up and overflowing out of sagging cardboard boxes. A girl in a dirty dress sat crumpled up in the corner and then a stampede of rats flurried over her and then she was gone, like in the jungle.

This is disturbing. I thought about it and decided that my corporate job is the soft core version of Fordism because it's easy and streamlined and every day is a cookie cutter and you actually think hey this isn't half bad and you get fooled into believing it. A sugar cookie that somebody's grandma's hands set gingerly on a cookie sheet and slid into the oven and frosted perfectly with a gob of pink buttercream balanced on the end of an angled spatula. Then we all fucking binged and touched our fingers to the backs of our throats and called it Christmas, because you could still see the deep red dragées and the pastel sparkles and the yellow nonpareils, all swimming in glittering swirls of diet coke and pink buttercream, except now you're not sure about all of this because are those deep red dragées and the yellow nonpareils food coloring or blood and bile?

Fucking capitalism.

Because it wouldn't be a drunk blog without drunk.

tomorrow I have to wake up, put on the pants and the little socks and flatten my hair, and paint my face with a cacophony of noxious chemicals. then I drive in the Big Car and arrive at the Big Building where I scurry in to sit at a cube. I stare at a screen and then come home to stare at a screen some more. lather. rinse. repeat.

WTF! What the hell is this. I work enough to sustain myself to continue working the next day. what the fuck happened to my LIFE and fucking FREE TIME. oh right. my life pretty much exists so i can go to work and come home from work and go to work. this is fucking wrong and i know im lucky and other people are way worse off. but in the meantime we are all so brainwashed by tv and by the mall and by commercials that nobody knows which end is up and dont think you are exempt. seriously get ready for a big ass garage sale cuz im selling all this shit and moving to the third world. it's like 3d but dirtier and you might get kidnapped and you get to be the one white person who saves the brown women from sex work or child labor or domestic abuse.

this is what im saying. the fucking revolution is near tipping point and capitalism is pert near critical mass. come on guys! momentum! this shit is happening now and it's going to be written in the history books of our children and you can say YOU WERE THERE

i'm way too overwhelmed by environmental side effects of consumerism to even write a first sentence of an introductory paragraph about it. i cant even believe people still use plastic baggies WTF PEOPLE YOU KNOW BETTER come on.

whatever. im just gonna go throw away AN ENTIRE BOX of plastic baggies just to spite you.

honestly though its not like one dude using a plastic baggie for his fucking sandwich that he eats on his lunch break while working at the PLASTIC FACTORY makes any speck of difference. 

And please listen to kreayshawn and lil wayne, even though he is sexist as hell; you're welcome.

Views from my bedroom window

1. I was 12 years old and my room was perfectly square and my bed was perfectly aligned on the south wall so my body would be directly under the perfectly square window with the dirty screen. It was fucking hot and I needed to be as close to the fresh air as possible to temper my suffering through an infestation of lady bugs and humidity.

There was absolutely no wind the night the horse got out so I could hear the gravel in the driveway crunching under his heavy hooves. That's the sound that roused me from sleep and caused me to shoot up out of bed and run into my Mom and Dad's room to share the Important News.

He was just having some driveway weeds and grass for a midnight snack. I knew he'd bolt as soon as he saw us coming to rally him back into his pen, so the Metcalf family had to have a strategic plan of action. It felt special and secretive and cunning, sitting around the table under a dim light while we schemed about how to get the horse back in a delicate manner.

2. Three years ago my bedroom window looked out to the neighbor's brick wall just a few feet away but separated by a deep ugly trench that had fallen prey to rain storms and College Ghetto trash: a broken lawn chair, someone's sock, a soggy empty case of beer. The porch to the left must have been no bigger than about four square feet, but somehow all three neighbor boys managed to fit on it at once.

They usually went on their "porch" to smoke cigarettes and either simultaneously call home or laugh about something apparently hilarious consistently at 3:00 a.m. The smoke would waft into my room where its bony claw crept around and through my nostrils and into my lungs, poisoning me while I slept.

3. The next window overlooked a grassy courtyard bound by an uneven sidewalk and hedges too nicely pruned for the neighborhood which was comprised mainly of bro dudes. In the backyard was a hidden gem where someone spent a lot of time manicuring a tidy and lush flower garden. The grass grew long in some corners and it smelled like wet wood and dirt.

I don't really have any real memories of that window though. What I do have is a wince and a belly twinge when I think about how long I stared out that window waiting for him to innocently come home from work while I sat there with my hand on my face and pushed myself further and further into denial about what I knew was happening to me.

4. Now my bedroom window is made of new clean plastic and it has two locks on the top. I push the levers closed when I leave for the weekend and sometimes in the morning before I go to work. The neighbors tilled a strip of ground that happens to be in the direct center of my view out the window, and they took a long thin branch and stuck it smack dab in the middle of the plot.

The next day, I looked out my bedroom window to see that the plot was penned in by tall chicken wire.

The plot quickly became completely overwhelmed with weeds.

Things I have learned

1. Drinking is fun but you HAVE TO remember to brush your teeth before you pass out

2. Guys are fucking dense

3. Argan oil = life oil

4. Sephora addiction = credit card bills

5. Veganism is the way to fucking go in terms of cellulite problems (blaming it on your thyroid is a sad fucking excuse; you're fat because you're lazy)

6. No one likes going to work

7. Make out while you still can

8. Learn some outdoor survival skills including how to pee in the woods so you can go hiking by your lonesome because you don't have a boyfriend to go with you.

9. The art of manliness is a joke except when dudes are sexy and being all masculine and stuff

10. Weird dudes are either prolific or extremely self-confident at asking girls out

11. K-pop is the new black (t.o.p. yes please)

12. Go to south america and help poor brown children and get an amazing tan (i know)

13. Get the fuck over it

14. embrace top 40 cuz you're just going to end up liking it ironically in 10 years (thank you AW)

15. Realize that you are vain and shallow, then move on

16. vicarious = word of the day

17. Mazo beach... who will come with me? Please? Just for an hour?

18. Before Mazo beach or ANY beach you need to lose like 20 lbs. Just sayin'.

19. Best friends are fucking timeless even if you haven't seen each other since 1998

20. I need to move to denver like soon

21. Play it fucking loud


Call me!

xoxo

PEM

New math

I just got called a cunt for real for the first time in my life

I'm not sure how I feel

about that


p.s. prior to being called a cunt i got yelled at for playing dubstep too loud

wtf is this

fucking rapture

i'm a grown up adult woman lady and can listen to loud dubstep if i fucking want to

p.p.s. I should probably do laundry tomorrow by myself....fucking depressing

everyone else does laundry with their stupid boyfriends

god

Thank you

OMFG YES

Tags: Teen Mom (Season 3), MTV Shows

What gym membership?

GOD FUCKING DAMN

To preface this post, yes, I am drunk.

So a word of advice: if you find a cute guy who has decent biceps and a good haircut and you suspect that he must have a girlfriend due to said desirable qualities but then you think "hey, guys are assholes and he's probably single so go for it, put a feeler out and see what you find because most of the time these things work out exactly how you imagine them," then you should definitely retract your previous train of thought because he definitely has a girlfriend and she most certainly is blonde and they go to weddings together and do outdoor activities that involve rafts and Badger apparel.

This all means that the rest of your life you will be a spinster, alone, with sallow skin, which will make your life BETTER or WORSE, depending on how you look at it or which trends are in fashion at the time.

The especially important part to take away from all this is that the summer of your twenty-third year will be spent ALONE mostly sitting on the floor in the middle of your bedroom with the ceiling fan on high while you download mediocre hip hop and swat winged insects away from the glow of your laptop screen. But hey, look at it this way: you won't have to bother with shaving those pesky bikini hairs because nobody will be fucking seeing them until at least next February when you get a sympathy lay from an old acquaintance or tall dubstep boy or some fat chick who's bicurious, whatever the fuck that means, for your twenty-fourth birthday, at which point you can lie and say you're exploring asexuality or make up some sort of terrible disease with more than four syllables or say that your new thing is that you only date people from cultures other than your own. Good luck!

I encourage you all to take a few days to wallow, self-loathe, chop off your hair with rounded-tip scissors and collect your shorn locks into a paper box, drink yourself into a stupor at least 75% of the time, attend a Wiccan For Beginners seminar and purge all your belongings that are not made of ceramic. You'll feel better!

All of the lights

How to get a date with a guy:

1. Look hot (confidence)
2. Pretend to believe that you look hot
3. Pretend you have 523082358 friends and stuff to do on the weekends because you are so outgoing and people love you, and you don't just sit in your room with a 6-pack doing scherenschnitte every Friday and Saturday night
4. Smile a lot and make big eyes (NOT bug eyes!)
5. Let your inner nerd girl be revealed in small doses
6. Make suggestive but tasteful hints to abate his fear of rejection
7. Wear cute things on a day you might just so happen to accidentally run into him
8. Find more excuses to go to the bank
9. Take the long way to the post office instead of the short cut through the parking garage to increase chances of intersection
10. Schedule errands during his lunch hour
11. Have an awesome personality (this should be swapped with point number 1)
12. Don't lie even if it's something completely insignificant because when you get cornered you'll look like a dumbass
13. Laugh at yourself
14. Ask him out

Hey, these flood pants are working!

And now, a top 5 list of top 5 lists, in no particular order:

Top 5 movies:

1. Ferris Bueller's Day Off
2. The Breakfast Club
3. Three Amigos
4. American Beauty
5. Robin Hood (Disney)

Top 5 sexy time songs:

1. Motivation - Kelly Rowland feat. Lil Wayne
2. Wildfire - SBTRKT feat. Little Dragon
3. Any other dubstep
4. Money Maker - Ludacris
5. Rock the Boat - Aaliyah

Top 5 foods:

1. Cruciferous veggies (does that include Brussels spouts? thanks ktz)
2. Ezekiel bread with extra Earth Balance
3. Spinach with oil and vinegar and maybe some black olives and shredded carrots on top
4. Chick peas
5. Avocado with Montreal steak seasoning

Top 5 "foods":

1. Margarine
2. Dark chocolate anything (and I mean xxxtra dark)
3. Gushers
4. Morningstar Farms sausages
5. Peanut butter (NOT organic/sugar free/etc.)

Top 5 ways to spend free time:

1. GTL
2. MTV
3. Trac-ball
4. Scherenschnitte and beer
5. Grammar policing

You're welcome.

Also, how about a fantastic weekend? And preceding week, for that matter! So many dudes!

Everything's coming up...Milhouse?

I got Ray-Ban vision

Did you know that Ray-Bans are fucking expensive? Well yeah, they are. I need the girly set with the animal print arms!

Strike my last; what I really need is a rich man to buy for me the girly set with the animal print arms.

Also, will someone PLEASE notice me on the street and write a g.d. missed connection for me already? I've even checked all the cities I've been in for the last several weeks. Nothing! And I can only wear my most outlandish articles of clothing/accessories so many times before people start to wonder/notice/catch on/judge. Even though you might not interact with the same people on a daily basis, you still see the same people on the bus in the morning or on your evening walks home from work or in the cardio room at the gym. I remember your face, dark-skinned tall boy/man with the big nose. So wearing leopard-print suede boots or pink skull-shaped earrings more than twice a week (but never in conjunction) simply won't do.

And it better not be something vague, like "girl on the 2 bus around 5:30 pm with the black North Face jacket, leggings and Uggs" because we all know each of us is liable to have dressed in such a manner at least ONCE over the course of one semester. Don't pretend like you don't know!

No, I need specifics. I have RED freaking HAIR, alright? How hard can it be? "Red-haired girl with the sensible canvas tote and impeccable style who made eyes at me upon stepping off the bus, right before a gust of wind caught an amber lock and swooped it out from behind your ear..."

See what I mean? Add some ROMANCE to your lives, people. Add some WHIMSY ZESTY ZEST for yourselves! For your parents, or your cat, or simply for the overall good of humanity. Anything!

Whatevs, I give up. I'm not even going to check for them any more. So don't bother writing one, because I sure as hell won't read it.

xxxooo

pem

They know not what they do

Types of dudes to date before you die/get old:

1. a non-white dude
2. a musician
3. a dude with XL sized junk
4. a dude with hipster moustache
5. a long-haired dude
6. a no-haired dude
7. a dude with a leather jacket
8. an androgynous dude
9. a Buddhist
10. a DJ
11. a drug dealer
12. a nurse
13. a grad student
14. a nerd
15. a guy with a motorcycle
16. a cowboy
17. a vampire
18. a guy who looks like jesus
19. a dude who loves his mom
20. a fitness instructor
21. a man
22. an extra femme dude
23. a guy who has at least one dog
24. a European, any

You're welcome.

xoxo

pem

Ground control

People!

You are DYING. You need to get the fuck off your computer and go outside. Go be a camp counselor in Maine. Find a beehive. Carve your initials into something. Go now: You're going to wake up one day and your life will have passed you by. DO SOMETHING!

Starting TODAY, take ANY CHANCE that comes in to your life that will allow you to do some thing or activity other than what you're doing now. New life situations will always be positive and good for your soul and more doors will open up and you'll have so many choices that you nearly puke into a mop bucket. Please note that THIS MEANS NEVER SAYING NO.

This weekend may be deemed a success mainly because by the end of it I will have had not one but TWO DIFFERENT birthday cake pieces from two entirely different birthday ritual celebrations.

Can you think of any North American holidays or celebrations that are not centered around food? Well I've thought about it a lot, and I can't. Aren't holidays and celebratory events major definers of a culture? Does that mean white (North American?) culture is food-centric and thus dependent upon food and its ritual?

I want to make an unconventional calendar that uses foods associated with holidays to demarcate the progression of time rather than days/weeks/months. It'd take some getting used to but I think the general public will catch on.

IF somehow the days just seem to slip by and before you know it it's next week and you haven't had five seconds to shave your pubes and you think it's probably okay to wear the same pants you wore yesterday because no one will really notice and you might not have any other pants to wear anyway because they're either dirty or too fucking small, then here is what you need to do: Call in sick to work in the middle of the week, or at the end of the week, and sleep in and when you wake up take a really long shower with music on and find your favorite socks/undies and just chill in the same place you always chill, maybe schedule a massage/do some online shopping, fantasize about food and vacations. You still have to do normal every day things like floss and empty the trash, but you CAN take a few mins and think about hobbies or skills you need/want to develop (martial arts, snake identification) or things you can add to your to-do list. You will feel WAY better for at least like two days after and probably more.

Backflip

Guys!

I am so happy I could do a back flip. TWO back flips. In a row. Consecutively. On the first try.

The only gray cloud on my weekend was that some youths must have stolen the bird feeder that was suction-cupped to my window. God! Really? I had to stand on a garbage can to get it there! WTF! A GARBAGE CAN!

Four new and interesting people have entered my life recently:

1. Overweight but still super cute hipster girl. Traits are a bicycle, skinny boyfriend with mustache, obscure music, cries a lot, and Chrome messenger bag. Needs to lose a good 20 off the rear to be classified as a real hipster though. She does have a genuine personality and makes me feel less bad for having to bite my lip to hold back tears on a semi-regular basis. Also good waist-up fashion, hair/makeup and vintage clothing.

2. Designer fashion girl. Traits are hoity-toity, self obsession and Photo Booth. Her favorite is Marc Jacobs (hottie!) and when she says Marc Jacobs it rolls out of her mouth all smooshed together and the consonants sound like clicking or an onomatopoeia in a foreign language. Her Marc Jacobs sunglasses have been referred to as her babies. And all the Marc Jacobs stuff was super cheap in metropolitan Asia.

When she drops designer names in regular conversation it reminds me of a casino employee dealing cards rapid-fire to women with plunging necklines and men in tuxedos. It makes me feel insufficient when I secretly and immediately Google every other name she says. Of course I'm comfortable enough to embrace it now and admit unabashedly that "I've never heard of it" which reflects my inner dork, which is who I'd rather be instead of someone who knows and follows and understands big-city fashion. It takes too much effort to be cool all the time. So much accountability! And way too big a margin of error.

3. Long-lost mechanic girl. Hopefully has grown out of her awkward phase but still wears Packers paraphernalia. Potentially my soul mate? If I move to Denver you'll know.

4. Too-skinny and very tall blonde boy. Traits are dubstep, Beiber hair, being tall and phlebotomy. A weekend fun-time summer friend but not someone with whom to go grocery shopping or to the farmers market or to the laundromat with no make-up on or with last night's make-up on.

5. The Black Keys. Traits are awesomeness and being fantastic and severely underrated in my music library.

In other news, MTV has some quality programming. Last night in my bleary stupor I may have accidentally watched several episodes of True Life. You guys should TOTALLY watch it!

And, in case you were wondering, I still really do love Bettie Page.

Come on!

Seriously, universe? You do this to me on a Friday night, after a long week, after my business card is declined at the Mac store, after I nearly overdraft my bank account and nearly max out my credit card with a dangerous shoe obsession, after I go all day avoiding diet coke so I can wear the skin tight dress tonight, after I work out the transportation, after I have the most stressful day at work, after I spent like $24523408234 on the tickets, after I spend 82347829432347 hours looking forward to it, after I clean my room and do my laundry...REALLY?

FML FML FML FML FML

Well, I guess...at least I'm not pregnant, at least I have an apartment and a bed, and $20 to buy beer, and a full head of hair. But still!

Some things

Here are some fun things on the horizon. Also, should I get FaceBook? I'm thinking no, because every time I read my old blog posts on here I pert near delete the whole damn thing because I think the stuff I've written is dumb, and if I get sucked into FB I'll post something but then delete it 5 mins later, plus I'm more mysterious and cool-seeming without FB, and I don't have to worry about mixing work and personal things, right? Is this a sugar-coated excuse for being too self-absorbed and insecure to project an idealized version of myself to the world? Is that not what this ridic blog is?

1. Apr 8: Bassnectar (will someone please come with me to this show so I don't have to go alone?)

2. May 13: CAKE! (Any brave readers willing to accompany a girl?)

Okay, so what have you guys read about fasting? I'm gonna try it. I'll let you know how it goes. Maybe I'll turn into a horrible person with cellulite and acne OR I'll become your fairy godmother in a pleather teddy...? Sexy. Let's go with that.



Bad motherfucker.



LOOK HOW TAN I AM! This is also why it's important to NOT skip the bootcamp classes that I just paid in full.





God damn I'm a fox.



Are you enjoying the fucked up layout of this post? Yeah? Good. Because I'm AWESOME at html.

Also, two more fantastic things:

a) Soundcloud
b) Pretty Much Amazing

Call me!

xoxo

Oh, le blog

1. If you are going on a trip somewhere, remember that you will not use 75% of what you pack.

2. If you are going on a trip somewhere, you WILL end up making a special trip inland to buy something that you have an EXTRA ONE of at home.

3. Don't get all wasted and then call me to "see what's up" and then act like you don't remember it.

4. When you hear birds in the morning, that means spring is nigh, and it's time to think about buying a gym membership because you can't hide your sag-a-lags under baggy clothing anymore. Leggings, anyone?

5. If you can't tone it, tan it.

6. Wear sunscreen you d-bag.

7. Being boy crazy and vain is OKAY, just don't be a dick.

8. Smoke less cigarettes but drink more beer.

9. Drive north until you hit Lake Superior.

10. It's probably okay to hook up with an ex if they are generous/rich/good-smelling.

11. To dudes who wear flip-flops: please don't.

12. Play dress-up in real life and wear sunglasses indoors and at night.

13. Don't be a dick to your parents.

14. Eat MORE celery and LESS cake!

15. Host a Texan-style ranch party. The parameters of this theme are rather flexible but should include ten-gallon hats, a cowbell, tumbleweed, a spittoon, apple pie and someone playing banjo on the porch.

Princess P

Hiiiiii

I just wanted to say sorry for all the posts about ex-boyfriends. No one needs to hear that. At the risk of going on, I henceforth vow to never write about ex-boyfriends ever again. Starting NOW GO

I am so goddamn happy. If I were a firecracker, the fuse would be burning dangerously short. You know what happens next, yes? Wait, that was a bad example because the firecracker analogy is often expressed with a negative connotation. I dare you to come up with a better one. Use words like geyser, bridge or burst.

The stars aligned for me again last night. I think I might be on to something! I liiiiiike it.

Aaaaaanyway, a wise man once said: Side boob is the new black.

Galletas de jengibre

Country
Music as loud as you want
Garden
Wind
The sound of gravel crunching under car tires
Dogs without leashes
Flannel
Local library
Local coffee shop
Outdoor shower
Bonfires
Pine woods
Treehouse
Fresh
Privacy
Bird feeder
12-foot sunflowers
Lawnmower
Cheap drinks
Rustic roads
Barns
Old hookups
Homemade
Gingham

City
Walking distance
24 hr
Concerts
People
Terrace
Jobs
Cats
Guerrilla gardens
Sequins and/or glitter
Parks
Cigarettes by the lake
Night walks
Privacy
Free delivery on all orders over $15
High speed rail
Festivals, fetes, and farmers market
House parties
Strangers
Movies
Dudes
Non-white dudes
Academic dudes
Hipster d-bag dudes