Saturday, November 22, 2008

Historical Hobos...

Well you had to know it would be just a matter of time before hobos once again became a part of my blog.  And lucky for you (my readers and fans) it is exactly that time!!  Woohoo!

So, in my very interesting neighborhood there is a half-way house/homeless home of some sort.  Often times the residents of said "home" hang out outside and say weird things to the people as they walk past.  Most of the time they ask for things, but today it was a very special historic fact that I was tossed.

As I stroll past my local McDonalds deciding whether or not I should go in my hobo friend slurs at me that today is the anniversary of JFK's assassination.  At first I didn't know what she said and I just thought to myself, "that lady is crazy in the brain," (think of me saying it in a sassy voice).  However, after processing what she actually said I realized that in fact she was sharing with me a delightful historical factoid!

I keep track of historical dates and what not and this one just completely slipped my mind.  I need to appreciate my local hobos more often because sometimes I just don't know what I would do without them.  God Bless us everyone. 

On a side note I have a little conspiracy theory that I stole from Strangers With Candy (the best show ever made).  Stephen Colbert says that Fidel Castro dressed up as Marilyn Monroe and gave Kennedy a case of syphilis so bad it blew the back of his head off.  Chew on that one.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

The Pick Up Artist

Well I'm not sure if any of you enjoy crappy VH1 shows as much as I do, but I want to take this time to reflect upon the show, "The Pick Up Artist."  For those of you that don't know this show is about some creepy dude who has apparently figured out how to trick women into sleeping with him with no strings attached.  He wrote a book and now he has a show where he takes 9 socially retarded young men and teaches them how to have random sex with women who are dumb enough to fall for their tricks.  There are so many things wrong with this show I don't know where to start, but I suppose the fact that the man teaching these guys looks like a douche with his painted nails and goggles (no, he's not a swimmer) is a start.

I will start by saying I'm not sure who falls for "Mystery," the teachers fake name on the show.  He wears fuzzy hats, chain link shirts, and goggles that serve no purpose.  Maybe this is cute to some women, but I'm over it.  If he approached me in a bar I can safely say that no matter what he said I would still think he was a douche, but that's just me.  On top of that his whole schtick is teaching these sweet young dudes how to not be yourself and by doing that women will sleep with you.

I know dating is a game, I get that, but I think that the "art" of picking up women is ridiculous.  Obviously there's some validity to it or these dudes wouldn't have a show, but really who are the women this crap works on?  

So, the moral of the story is watching crappy TV will make you think about life and then you will be a better person...or something.  

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Lady poops a little

Well I must digress from my typical facebook political rants because my sister will divorce me from being her sister if I blog about such things. So what's best after politics...poop I say!

I know this is gross, but since only four people read this none of them being my mom I think it's a fair topic. Dr. Oz (from Oprah's show) says that your poop is the greatest way to really look at your health. If your poop is off odds are you are off too! Well that brings me to my next point my poop is off, therefore, I am off.

I have digestive "issues" to say the least. I don't get to poop too often, so when I do it's quite an event. Have you ever waited all day for something so special and then when it comes you get that giddy joyous feeling that only cake can bring a fat kid? Well that's what pooping, or poopong when I'm texting, is like for me. I know pooping is so gross and overrated to you, but honestly when you don't get to do it when you want it becomes an important event. One that you value and enjoy contemplating. So appreciate your poops because they are like a box of chocolates and you never know what you're gonna get.

(Let me also add that this was the LEAST offensive picture that shows up when you google image poop. If you think I'm sick for blogging about it, you should check out the people that put their own poop online).

Thursday, October 9, 2008


Ugh...I'm so over this election crap. I am tired of people misconstruing anger for passion and frustration for being over emotional. Isn't this exactly how groups of people who were fed up with an existing situations have been treated continuously over time? I'm not comparing my frustration with the Civil Rights Era, but typically people are able to cry "crazy or emotional" when they want to invalidate and ignore peoples feelings. They did it then and they do it now.

It seems to me if more people paid attention to what was going on in the world they would be passionate and emotional too. It's not that it runs our lives or takes the thoughts of our every waking moment, but we think about it well we should. If we don't care, who will? I too, am intimidated by overly passionate political folk, but I'm not really sure I consider myself to be one of those people. I will vote and I will spread the word, but I choose to spend my time helping people makes their lives better in small ways. I'm not the go out on the street and yell type despite what some people may think.

People need to wake up and pay more attention then things like housing crisis' and poorly planned occupations wouldn't "sneak up on us."

I promise to be funnier after this blog, but I had to get some things off my chest.

Monday, September 29, 2008


So I thought I would try to keep this blog apolitical, but since really only about three people read it I don't think it's that big of a deal. Basically I need to whine about this Palin woman. Anyone that knows me or reads my Facebook status knows I can't stand her. She is the epitome of a woman who has used and abused feminism and its ideals only to CRAP on the progress women have fought long and hard to make.

Gloria Steinem and Suheir Hammad wrote an article about feminism that described feminists as, "women who actively promote the advancement of the interests of other women, not just the narcissistic advancement of themselves." It could not have been stated any better. Palin is the definition of a woman who promotes the "narcissistic advancement of herself." The woman is unbelievable. She claims family values and God and Jesus and the like when her 17 year old is knocked up! Judgemental...oh hell yes and I am okay with that. It's not good for 17 year olds to be having babies...sorry, it's just not.

I am not sure why women seem to see her as a role model. She seems to be just playing in the boys club, but telling the public she's a "maverick." Please. She's transparent and blatantly self interested to me. In addition to these things she does not seem intelligent enough to handle the job that she could potentially be elected for. I mean really, don't we deserve a vice president that knows where Iraq is! Perhaps that is a gross overstatement...maybe she did know where Iraq was before her two month cram session, but I would bet money that she did not.

Okay rant over. Perhaps besides her clear lack of knowledge there's no substantial reason not to put her in office, but at any rate she is a disappointment to women and I don't care that she is a governor or has been mayor of a small town. I suppose on some level progress is progress, but I think it's morally questionable when you try to rip down the rights of the very people that got you to your position in the first place.

I refuse to put a photo of this twit up, so instead I will put up a photo of a guilty puppy...the way she should feel about the idea of being elected vice president.

Sunday, September 28, 2008


I have been in New York going on four years now, a long and short four years all at the same time. I am finally genuinely feeling at home and enjoying it. I feel like New York is a place that you will always love and hate. It takes some time to get used to subways, urine smells, hobos outside your apartment, creepy men constantly jeering at you, everything being crowded all of the time, I could go on, but I will stop. There comes a time (for me it was about three years) when you just come to accept these things as "New York," and you appreciate them for what they are.

I don't mean to hate on NYC, which I have done so many times in my years living here, there are myriad of amazing things about this city. For such a small island the city holds so much. I get why people say they never want to leave. There are the greatest museums, amazing restaurants, any interest group you could ever want, central park, and even more. It's sort of like the city you hate living in, but you love visiting so much you don't leave.

I feel like my newyorkification has really set in. I am voting for Obama, I have hit a cab (I hit a cab with my fist because it almost hit me. Yes, it did hurt), and I go to Starbucks at least once a day. I don't think my midwesterness will ever leave me, it still lurks beneath my tough exterior. I still wouldn't even call myself a "New Yorker," but I have embraced this city for what it is and I like it...finally.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

From high fashion to

When does fashion go over the line? When does high fashion turn to huh? fashion? I don't consider myself to be too fashionable. It's too much to keep up with and I have better things to do like keep up with old episodes of "I love Money," I mean "The Hills," I mean...okay I don't watch any quality TV, but it's still more interesting to me then wearing Pucci (Yes, Pucci, not Gucci).

Today I saw this girl walking down the street and I'm not sure I would call her high fashion, but she was making a statement, however, it was a statement that should've been made in 1984. From her shoes to her hair it was straight out of Square Pegs. I know she was being fashionable and hipster-y, but honestly even the hair was permed! She had on a cloth tight skirt a totally 80's top and some white ankle I missing something or was this a bad idea?

I get mixing trends up, but I just feel like when you go hair to toes it's overkill. I suppose this is why I don't work on Fashion Ave...oh wait I do. Well, I don't work IN fashion and there's probably many good reasons for that. One being that they probably don't take too kindly to squirrel shirts (I have one and I wear it and I like it).

P.S. I feel as though half-naked Tom Selleck on a phone that isn't plugged in is a good representation of the 80's.

Tuesday, September 23, 2008


I decided that I would title this blog awkward to speak about my own horrible awkwardness. I like to think I am a sociable person. I am outgoing, I don't really get too nervous in situations with new people, and I would like to think I can work a room. However, lurking underneath that fantastic (yes, I said fantastic) exterior is an completely awkward, mildly insecure person.

Now don't get me wrong. I do think positive things about myself and I know I am smart and not hideous and all that jazz, but still I can't help but question myself most of the time. I am not afflicted with such issues all day every day, but it really comes up when I am in dating or near dating situations or situations that could turn into dates or dating associates or anything to do with men actually.

Whenever I like someone I act like a moron. I'm sure this is that uncommon, but usually I can hide my awkwardness so that people don't realize it until it's too late. What causes me to be such a strange girl you ask? I like to blame my upbringing or maybe my sister, but I think it's all me. I make bad or inappropriate jokes, I get anxiety, I talk incessantly (yes, more then usual) and I get robotic in my movement because I am thinking about it so much. I wish I could just be normal, but unfortunately I'm not sure that's in my cards.

Perhaps some people like awkward ladies? I like awkward boys...not sure why but I do. Maybe I will just start watching Bridget Jones Diary over and over again and again until I know exactly what I shouldn't be doing. Oh no! What if I am Bridget Jones but younger...Perhaps I should just start drinking heavily so that I am drunk whenever I meet people and then I don't worry about it? I'll take suggestions...or dates.

Sunday, September 21, 2008


So last night I went out with some work friends. These events are typically a bit awkward because most of the time you don't want to be "sociable" with your coworkers outside of the painful 9 hours a day you already spend with them, but I digress.

So we're sitting around drinking and the guy sitting next to me keeps texting someone. I knew he didn't have a girlfriend, so I wondered who else could possibly be all up in his business. Me, being the hilarious person that I am, made the unique joke about his bestie being his girlfriend and he replied, "basically." Then he laughed and said "we're straighting." Little did my coworking friend know, but he just inspired one whole blog dedicated to his witty response.

After hearing this term I decided I was going to steal it, but since I'm not Biden I will give credit where it is due (sorry Mr. Biden I will still vote for you). In case you didn't pick up on this in paragraph 1 straighting is when you have a same sex best friend who you talk to so much they might as well be your boyfriend. Although I wanted to make fun of my friend I knew that I was guilty of straighting as well.

My best friend in college and I were horrible straighters. We talked about 8 times a day. We were always at each other's apartments. We also really didn't make any decisions without consulting the other. I used to tell her I would be calling my boyfriend had I had one, but since I didn't I call her. I would say straighting is a great alternative to actual dating. No feelings, no weirdness, no jealousy, it's perfect...except for the lack of booty I suppose (I mean if you're into that sort of thing).

I would suggest straighting to anyone out there who is sick of the opposite sex or if you just like your bestie more than most of the boys/girls that you meet. Although your friends might think you're weird...or gay, they just don't understand the completely natural, oddly close relationship that warrants constant contact and confiding in your same-sex but totally straight best friend. And you know what they don't have to get it because you already have all you need.

Dedicated to Shan, my bestie.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

On being dumb...

I can't believe it's been a month since my last blog...sorry folks or rather Audra, my only fabulous friend who reads this. ;) I have been pretty busy working a full time job, working a part time job, and trying to study for the GMAT. The GMAT, the very thing that brings me to the subject I shall write about this evening.

Being dumb is a many splendid thing. I feel as though when you are told your whole life by your parents that you are smart it is an an abrupt and painful process to learn that you are actually quite dumb. I feel betrayed, lied to, mocked...( I know these are redundant). My dad is a smart man, my sister is a smart lady, my mom is a smart mama, and they are also all liars. They all convinced me that I was smarter then all the rest of the kids, even the kids that got better grades then me. I wasn't at the top of my class because they tried harder, not because they were smarter. Ha!

Why do you put yourself down Julie? (This is what I assume you are asking me) And I say because's true. As I study for the GMAT and read each painful line of sentence correction it all comes through loud and clear. I know NOTHING about the English language. Not only that, I also can't find an average, multiply a fraction, or discover a pattern in a group of numbers.

I wish I could blame it drugs or government testing, but sadly I have never been an addict or a test subject. I am just naturally this way I suppose. I didn't study in college, I didn't study in high school and this has all led to a blowing discovery at the ripe old age of 25 that I am a moron. Now, now I know that intelligence comes in many different packages. I am smart at people or common sense or something like that right? Wrong. I am completely and utterly average in every way. I think I am okay with it though. I mean I don't really have any other choice so I might as well accept it.

Fear not public this will not deter me from making everyone listen to my opinions, read my blog, or leaving hateful anti-Palin messages on my facebook status. I just want you to know, that i know, I am dumb. Thank you for reading this completely average blog.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Other people's funny...

Reading someone else's very funny blog has inspired me to get a little crazier with my blog. And by crazier I mean write about something other then hobos. So, I decided I would write about turning 25.

My birthday is on Saturday and I know, I am not that old, but I can't help but feel like I am. 25, is an age I just never saw myself at and I'm not quite sure why. The funny thing is I've been able to do some pretty amazing things in my short 25 years. I've gotten to travel, move away from where I grew up, have a career in what I thought would be my "dream job." I am successful I suppose, I have a great family, an alright love life (most of the time), and yet I feel like I am missing something. I'm sure what it is yet.

I know it's not unique to be unable to figure out what you want to do at age 25. Older people are always telling you that they didn't "find" themselves until they were at least __ (insert completely arbitrary age that is older than you, so that they can feel better about being older). Well I can safely say I "know" myself and I am confident in who I am, but it's more like something missing on the exterior. Maybe it's the lack of functional relationship or the lack of passion I have for what I am doing. I am trying to find that passion by going back to school for something I really love...which is helping people (I don't care how dumb that sounds).

Getting older is strange. We focus on these ages that we have passed and honestly I wouldn't want to go back in time for any of the great things (or shit things) I have lived through. I am scared, but also looking forward to growing older. I want to experience family life, own a house and be wiser. I was told by my friend at work that I have a good outlook on life. I think she can only say that because she doesn't know me all that well. I know I am cynical, but it is possible to be a closeted optimist?

If so, I think that I am. I love laughing at how seriously people take things. If everyone would just settle down a little bit maybe we could all chillax and look at the big picture. I know that I will look back on my time in New York is one of growth and good times. I am incredibly lucky to have been given so much in life. Thank you to everyone that has contributed (for good and for bad).

My mom doesn't read my blog (she does however read random other people's blogs), but if she did she would be able to read about how much I appreciate her and what she has taught me. When she dropped me off for college she told me that she wanted me to do something with my life as she didn't feel she had (I'm not sure if she still feels this way). Well, I want her to know that I admire how she has lived her life and she is the most unselfish woman I know and because of that I have learned and been given so much.

I know this a departure from my typical blogs, but getting older makes me more retrospective and deep (as you can see). Thanks for reading. Love and rockets.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Angry Hobos

Most of the time I try not to interact with hobos that I think may be hostile. There are quite a few of them, so avoiding them is a skill all onto itself. The other day I was hanging out in a Dunkin Donuts, because that's what I do, when I saw this lady with a cart. She didn't look homeless outright because she was dressed somewhat normally, but her hair was pretty Britney Spears like and she was asking people for change, even though she had a brand new iced coffee in her creepy little hand.

As I was waiting for my delightful smoothie I made an effort to avoid her change requests because she was a bit nasty to those who turned her down. She happened to ask this man whose wife did not take kindly to crazy crazerson asking him for his change. The wife started talking out loud sort of to herself, sort of to everyone in the restaurant that this crazy lady needed to back off. In my normal passive aggressive ways I avoid the physical situation and walk over to the straw counter.

As I grab for my straw I see Crazy coming over to me, I think oh no what's she going to say to me? So I just take my straw give it a tap to break the seal and put it in my drink. Just as I finish Crazy comes over looks me right in eye, grabs about four straws (even though she already has a couple in her drink) and aggressively taps them just as I did, but with a lot more hositlity. She gives me a dirty look and then quickly goes back to her cart.

I couldn't stop laughing. I did nothing to her, I said nothing to her, yet I'm the one who got served straw style.

Thursday, July 31, 2008

Those Crafty Hobos

Today as I was walking to the subway from work today I saw a hobo with the craftiest sign. He was sitting near the fire hydrant on 34th street and I just happen to look down in time to read his cardboard box sign and wouldn't you know it said, "I'm like Obama. I want change." Get it? Ching ching change...

I thought to myself how inventive is he? It didn't make me want to give him any money, but it did make me laugh. Every once in a while you pass by those funny hobos. The ones with the witty sign or the inventive song and dance. If only they could channel that creativity into a job.

I know, I know not every hobo can probably get a job, but still.

So, I used google image and I put in the phrase "obama hobo," and this is the photo I got. The same hobo picture from my previous posts but with Hilary Clinton's face on it. I thought it was too funny not to add. Maybe if I see that same hobo with the sign tomorrow I'll ask if I can take a picture of him.

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Hungry, Hungry Hobo...or not

Now, I know everyone probably thinks I can't write about anything but hobos, but they are around in my everyday life so I can't escape them. Here is today's story...

Most of the time my job is pretty lame. TV sounds cool, but most of the time we just work a lot and don't get paid a lot. Every once in a while you get to do a cool interview or you see someone cool in the building, but that's about it. Today was a double fun day...I met Simon Doonan (the creative director at Barney's and TV personality) and Glenn O'Brien. For those of you who don't know either of these people you should google them. Glenn O'Brien is the Editorial director/co-editor of Interview Magazine. A magazine started by Andy Warhol back in the day. He casually dropped the first time he and Warhol saw David Bowie perform and how he convinced Andy to let Bowie stay despite the mime act he began with. Often times I'm not impressed by celebrities and what not, but this was pretty damn cool to me.

So on to the of the few perks we have when we shoot is a free lunch. Today I ordered a delicious chicken wrap, but only had time to eat half of it. I decide that since the other half is untouched I would give it to the first hobo I saw. Well it's about 80 degrees outside and I see this woman right at the door to the 34th st subway station. She is dressed in a heavy jacket, a blue large winter hat, and she is sitting on a suitcase, but for some reason I say to myself, "No, this lady isn't crazy." Well I offer her my lunch and make sure to tell her I haven't touched it and all she does is shake her change cup at me. I laughed (and then imagined her kicking me down the subway stairs for laughing at her). She didn't kick me or anything, but she couldn't have been that down and out or I would like to think she would have accepted my food.

Then as I get off the subway at my stop I see one of my neighborhood hobos outside the local McDonalds. He has no shoes on, his shirt is open, his pants are dirty, and he is eating a bag of Doritos he literally just pulled out of the trash. I say to myself, "perfect!" a genuinely hungry hobo who will really need my chicken wrap. Well he pushed it away and says no...

So is it me? Or are the hobos in NYC not really hobos at all? If I had to pick Doritos out of the trash I think I would also accept untouched chicken wraps, but I suppose he is not me. I know I am ignorant for expecting people to be grateful for what I give them, but I really don't think that on a rational level. I just assume when people are hungry they will eat food. Silly me. Oh well, I put in the trash and hoped someone nice would pick it up.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Poop cup rain detector

New York City weather is quite unpredictable. I suppose weather everywhere is unpredictable, but here since we walk so much you have to be prepared or you will be wet, hot, cold, whatever it may be for the rest of the day.

This is where my trusty poop cup rain detector comes in. I know it sounds weird, but this trusty Styrofoam cup lets me know whether or not it has rained in the night, which often indicates to me whether or not I should bring my umbrella to work that day. Let me explain...

First of all, I hate pigeons. They are flying rats. I don't hunt and I don't like guns or killing things, but if I could I would hunt pigeons. I would call them flying rats, but that would be insulting to rats to happen to be a very smart rodent. Now, because I hate pigeons so much I decided to put pigeon stabbers (they are plastic bases with metal pokers so that pigeons can't land of them without getting stabbed), on my air conditioner window unit.

My "delightful" neighbors decided to stick a styrofoam cup onto my stabbers and at first it bugged the crap out of me, because it looks bad and the pigeons pooped all over it. However, I realized that the poop is washed off each and every time it rains! How helpful in the mornings! I know you say, "Why don't you just look outside to see if it's wet?" And I say...because I don't have to, I have a pigeon poop cup rain detector.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Animals as snacks...

So after a long night of little sleep and lots of editing I was leaving my boss' apartment after an early morning hard drive drop off. She lives on the Lower East Side and although most of the drugs might be gone, the crazies are still abundant. However, sometimes the crazies wear sheeps clothing and you just can't tell from the exterior how crazy they really are. Well talk to them for five minutes and you will soon find out.

So as I was be-bopping down the street and I saw this little older lady with three dogs (all off leashes mind you, illegal in NYC. This should've been my first clue). Well two of the dogs were beautiful golden mixes of some sort and since I dream of dogs all the time I sometimes like to be creepy and ask people what breed their dogs are. So I asked, "What kind of dogs are those?" She pleasantly replied, "Retriever lab mixes." So, I countered with "What a great mix, beautiful and good temperaments."

Then out of no where the sky got dark, the dogs turned rabid, and the lady's eyes turned bright red. Okay, that didn't happen, but it might as well have because I would've been less scared if it had. Before I even knew what was going on the woman goes into this tirade about how if you love animals you don't eat them...cows, chickens, dogs, cats, birds, all of them. I can't even reply before she decides to educate me on the fact that humans were not evolutionarily designed to consume meat and not only meat, but eggs. ice cream, yogurt, all types of dairy. Then she says with indignation (towards apparently me and every other meat eater out there) that humans are herbivores and by not practicing that we are killing the environment!

Well I need to add a few side notes.

1. Homo Sapiens (or humans as we know them today) have been eating meat for at least 1.5 million years since the first humanoid type hunters the Homo Habilis. So, I think it's safe to say our bodies have evolved enough to digest meat.

2. As my super smart sister pointed out, if we weren't evolved enough to consume meat we wouldn't have canine teeth or incisors.

3. In New York, or any walking city for that matter, once you start a conversation with someone on the street walking next to you the only way to end it is to turn on a cross street or awkwardly speed up. So once you're screwed until the block ends.

Side notes added, after she continues on her diatribe I just sit there not really knowing what to say (especially since I never admitted I ate meat anyway), so I just smiled and nodded thinking the corner couldn't get here fast enough. She even pulls out freaking PETA paperwork to hand to me before I quickly crossed the street and took a nice deep breath of McDonalds hamburger smell.

I learned a couple things from this experience. Don't start conversations in the middle of the block because there is not an un-awkward way to get out of them. I really like most meats and dairy products and I will continue eating them all I please. And finally...don't talk to anyone! Because even people who look normal could in fact be very crazy

Friday, July 11, 2008

To Eat or Not to Eat

During a recent conversation with my sister about how and why the DC Metro does not allow people to eat in the subway and why the New York City subway does not share such a rule. When considering which subway my sister rather eat in she said definitely DC and I had to agree. Our next question was; How do they enforce such a rule? I was told that in DC people are ticketed heavily for being caught eating or drinking in the subway, which in theory would get people not to do things. However, I have definitely sat in a subway car with guy smoking a blunt before. It may have been at about 3am on the F train in Brooklyn, but still he did it with cops only being one subway car away. He also made us promise not to tell anyone (he may or may not have been cracked out). All that aside I just don't feel like New Yorkers would follow such a rule, because they don't really follow many of the rules already in place.

The excellent point my sister made was that the subway she rather have a turkey sandwich on is the very one where she might get ticketed for doing so. So can you not eat on the DC train because they don't want it to be as disgusting as the NY Subway? Or is the NY subway disgusting because people are allowed to eat on it? I'm not sure food alone could make the NY subway system as gross as it is. I think it's more a lack of maintenance and indifference by it's riders to clean up after themselves. How do they keep the DC Metro so damn clean? I can't possibly think it's based on the no eating rule alone. Maybe it will always be a mystery...

I think this is a case that will not be solved. It should be put up there with "Is Santa Claus really real?" Until it is figured out I will continue to eat my pop-tarts on the subway and try hard not to think about all of the little particles of rat poop flying up and sticking to the jelly as the subway car passes by. Gross? Maybe, but I like to think I am just building up my immune system for when the next black plague hits. We'll see how well the DC population fares when that happens.

Wednesday, July 9, 2008

Ugly Americans

I just finished a book I borrowed from my sister called Ugly Americans. It was pretty good and a fast read. The book is about 1990's American investors took advantage of the Asian stock market and managed to make millions. I do not understand enough about the American stock market, much less the Asian market to explain how exactly they did this, but they did and at the expense of always.

John Malcolm is the lead character and although he's a real person his name was changed. He basically got involved in the business straight out of undergrad not having any clue what he was getting into. After learning the ropes, seeing some people bottom out, and realizing what he had gotten himself into...he left, but not before scoring some major moola. Although the author makes him out to be the good guy amongst a bunch of bad guys. I'm not sure if I buy that, but I wouldn't have minded making 500 million in a few years and then retiring at age 26.

Overall an okay book. Well written and everything, worth the read since it's suspenseful and easy to get through. I recommend.

Dear Uncle Sam, Thanks for the great weekend. Love, Jules

Well, well, well there are "free" things in the U.S. I think they're all in DC and I paid for them in taxes, but still. I decided to spend our nation's Bday in none other than Washington DC. I do not consider myself a particularly patriotic person (I do like America), but being in the capital makes me want to be least for the weekend.

The real reason I went down to DC is because my good friend Stephanie lives there and I hadn't visited her yet. I also got to catch up with an old college friend that I used to volunteer at the hospital with as well. :) It was a great weekend with great people Lincoln and Jefferson included.

I had never been to DC, so I didn't know how clean their subway was, how free all of the things to do are, and how friendly it was (especially compared to New York). Not only can you get into all of the memorials for free, but the museums and the monuments are free too! Unlike the Statue of can go inside the Washington Monument (and up near the top) for nothing! I thought it was the most fabulous thing. A great place for a poor person like me to visit. Although I don't understand people's need to build huge marble buildings to honor the dead I sort of liked seeing them. The memorials, though sad, were powerful and Arlington Cemetery was eerie and not in a good way. It was interesting to see, but very cemeteries typically are.

Overall DC was fabulous. I still can't get over the fact that all of the Smithsonian museums have free admission. At least we know we can benefit in some way from our government. They may stink at invading countries (post 2000) and keeping our public schools funded and many other things I wish not to dive into, but they sure can keep our monuments and museums up to snuff. Everyone should go whenever they have the chance. Let your government give back to you for once!

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

The hobos take Manhattan

Summer in New York is a special time. The urine smell in the subways is always stale and warm. The amount of trash goes up due to more people being outside and the overall hostility of hot and sweaty people cramped in a small subway car is like no where else on the planet. In addition to all of that fun the hobo population seems to reach new's like were in that bad Michael Keaton movie from the 90's Multiplicity (except with hobos that look similar instead of cute little Michael Keaton). I'm sure they live here all year round, but they really seem to start walking around more in the summer. Sometimes they wear winter coats and other times hardly anything at all. The BO is always fresh and the change cups jingle jangle as if it were Christmas time.

My interactions with our city's homeless population has been mixed. I once had a man in a coonskin cap spit on me in Union Square. He claimed I stared at him for too long, but wouldn't you stare at a man in a coonskin cap in the middle of Union Square? He was a bit hostile to say the least. Then there are the nice hobos like the one that hangs out near my apartment, who typically offers to help me carry my groceries. I never take him up on it, but it seems like a sincere offer and not him trying to get something out of me. Then there are the unhomeless homeless. The people that have better shoes on than you asking you for change because they lost their job, their life savings, their home, their AIDS...whatever it is. I don't have a lot of sympathy for these folks because they are ripping off tourists and taking away from the people in actual need.

Well even though I joke with you I am mildly sympathetic to the plight of the hobos. I often leave food out or give them whatever food I have on me. I once got some pizza thrown right back at me for offering it to the wrong hobo. Apparently not all homeless people want to be spoken to or offered things. I also got followed down Broadway and yelled at for like 6 blocks for smiling at the wrong hobo. Perhaps hobo isn't the nicest word and maybe making light of what mental illness many of them have also isn't nice, but I am just joking for laughs. I do feel sorry for many of them, but there is also some humor that needs to be found in it or you will depress yourself with the amount of homeless people you come across any given day in this busy city.

So if you have any trips planned to NYC in the summer keep an eye out for your neighborhood hobos, bring some extra snacks, but you can't give money to all of them (Shannon) or you will be broke in about an hour.

Monday, June 30, 2008


Since I started this blog I have wanted to add the word blog into my vocabulary in anyway I can, so that everyone I speak to remembers to read my blog. This is a continuation of my previous post of making up words. I have taken this to another level by making up words and incorporating the word blog into them in some way. Go ahead try it...

Blogtastic was my first one, it just means fabulous blog. Blogology, as I titled this post, is the study of blogs. Blogimosity, is animosity between blogs. Blowl (feautured to your left), is an owl featured in a blog (or a movement *wink wink*). You get the idea. You should begin using these words with all of your friends too and then get them to read as well. :)

Making up words or Wordocology

Word play is so tricky these days. Everyone always trying to outsmart each other with bigger and better words. Does anyone really remember more than three of their ACT/SAT words? And then the there's the GRE you are forced to memorize all these damn words when honestly...who EVER uses those words?? There's a reason college educated adults don't know the meaning of them either.

Well, I've taken on a different way to impress people...I like to make up my own words; however I base them on real words, so that people don't really know if they're words or not. Now, some of them are easy to figure out like the made up word, "douchy." (Sorry mom, but I do say that word). It means jerk or "douchebag" like. That one is an easy one, but a word like "animotic," seems to fool people pretty well or they give me a face, but since they don't really know for sure they say nothing and wait until later to pull it up on, only to realize of course that I made it up. (By the way it means to be done with animosity). I made up the word because I didn't have any other word to say that really described what I was trying to get across, so I made them up. Now, most of you might say well then perhaps you should get a bigger vocabulary. Well, why on earth would I do that when making up words is so much fun? Most of the time people don't want to seem stupid so they don't question your made up words if they are good enough. Most people can't really correct you (unless you're Dave Rukavina (my dad) and then you don't have a problem knowing obscure words), because even if they think the word is wrong they're not certain, so they say nothing. I am not saying that I would be able to figure out if someone made up a word when speaking to me. That's the beauty of it, everyone confusing each other all the time. It's a wonder we all feel stupid and just watch "Who wants to be a Millionare," in order to feel smart, because who doesn't know all of the answers to that show?

And for the people that use those big words and do know what they mean...well you need a hobby.

P.S. When I spell checked this my made up words got highlighted and I felt so proud. If you have any words to add please leave comments, because I'm always looking for more made up words to use on people.

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Mini Instruments...for mini people?

Yesterday as I was walking through the West Village I passed this tiny store with tiny instruments in it. My first thought was, how does this store afford to stay open only selling tiny instruments? My next thought was, who plays these tiny instruments? They are too small for "little people," too big for Barbie, animals don't have opposable thumbs with which to pluck an instrument. Hmm...I just didn't know. Then I had an epiphany! These were knick knacks or tchotchke's, if you will. It's ridiculous that it took me so long to figure this out since I am the knick knack princess (second only to me mum). Then I thought, why wouldn't you want a tiny instrument to prove to all of your friends that you, in fact, play a larger version of this same exact instrument! I mean I actually wouldn't want a small violin or piano, but maybe that's because of the shame I bear from quitting so many music lessons as a child.

Why do people like such mini things? Why do people insist upon buying a small viola if they already have a life size one that actually serves a purpose? I suppose I could just ask my mom (who I am pretty sure has given my sister a miniature viola at one point or another), but I think she would just say she didn't know why. Why do we really buy anything we do? I love buying mini things. I love buying mini plates and glass thimbles from everywhere I go and they are just as useful as a tiny piano. I suppose I think they will conjure up some memory each and every time I look at them, even though they really don't do that at all. Now they just take up space on my bookshelf where my books should really be. Does this mean I will stop buying them? No, probably not. I will, probably, forever think that I need to buy miniature things to commemorate each and every thing I do in life. So if you see a little plate that says "I like to buy miniature plates," let me know and pick one up for me.

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

New York, New York

As many of you know I live in the big apple, New York City. I pay astronomical rent, so that I can live in a very small space, have hobos hang out outside my window, pay $8 for a box of ice cream sandwiches (which I resist doing), ride cramped subways and get yelled at for no apparent reason at any time. All of this does come with some good though. Last night my friend Val (who consistently gets me to do fun New York things) asked me to go see the NY symphony orchestra play in Central Park for free. Although part of me wanted to go home because I knew I had some episodes of Jon and Kate Plus 8 to catch up on (I blame my aunt and uncle for introducing this show to me), I decided that I would take Val up on her offer. Luckily her fabulous roommate, Andrea, decided to save seats for us because by the time we got there there were thousands of people already there. You know, when I was younger we used to go to Theatre in the Park during the summer (if you're from Kansas you will know what I'm talking about). I thought Theatre in the Park was so cramped and there were so many people there, now I think that was child's play. At any rate, besides a woman passing out and falling on the ground about 10 feet from us, the concert was great. The weather was really nice, I managed to stay away from the ice cream cart, and the music was beautiful. Then as we all get up to leave I remember why I hate free events in New York...the mass amount of people.

New York City would be great if it just had about half the people it does now. There are people everywhere all of the time and when you add the word "free" onto anything that means everyone shows up. Now this venue was on the Great Lawn in Central Park, so it wasn't quite as bad as it could've been. People were pretty nice and since it wasn't too hot no one was miserable, but still trying to weave through people just to get out of the park was a pain and I was even on foot! I will say this experience was about a million steps up from the last free thing I tried, which was attending the opening of the Apple store on 14th st in the middle of winter.

I'm not sure why I thought this would be a good idea. I'm also not sure why I decided that on a Friday night I would want to head to the grand opening of an Apple Store alone. This is probably a good summation of my NY life in, alone, on a Friday night in the freezing cold with the hobos. Anytime you say free in this city you will automatically get an eclectic mix of trashy people in NYC (no, I am not excluding myself from this crowd). Trashy means very different things to different people, but in this case I just mean rude and manner-less. I figured since it was nighttime the line wouldn't be long and I could just go in win me a brand new MacBook Pro (which I do need a new computer) or maybe an ipod for my Dad or something. I get there and I see that the line is long, but I figure it will go fast. Even though I had my thickest winter coat on I still froze my butt off. Then these lovely young girls in front of me that had a very small infant in a very large stroller decided to let me know that i was too even with them in the five-person wide line and they needed to announce that they were in front of me and I should back up (they didn't say it nicely either). Typically I would've been sassy back or maybe questioned them as to why they thought it was a good idea to bring a small child out in the bitter cold, so that they could maybe win an ipod or something, but instead I just kept my mouth shut and nodded. Three hours (no joke) later after listening to the Long Island teens behind me talk about their social life (which was way more "active" then mine in more ways then one) I got to the front of the line. Ironically right as we approached the doors the baby in front of me starting crying (probably because it was near frozen) and the young mothers had to stop and pull out a bottle, so I ended up in the store before them anyway.

As I walked in the staff cheered for you as if you were Ed Koch, they handed you a tube that determined if the last three hours had really been worth it after all. I stared at the tube intensely hoping to burn a winning sticker into the underside of that cap with my brain power. I found a little niche in the store where I could stop and discover my fate. As I began to pull the little plastic top off I held my breath, turned it over, and realized that I had just frozen my toes and wasted my Friday for a $10 itunes gift card. Then I looked up and saw what looked like a homeless man walking out of the store with a brand new macbook. I did a quick lap of the store and it had the same crap every other Apple store did and retreated home to my warm apartment.

I know, I know, he needed the laptop more than I did, but still it burned a little bit. I waited all that way, suffered through the incessant chit chat of grossly "mature" teenagers, just to get a poster and a gift card. It was further prove that my Grandpa was right when he used to tell me "nothing is free." He should've added to that...especially in New York.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

My June reading.

Originally I wanted to start a blog so that I could write about book reading, because it's one of my favorite things to do. Now, I'm not sure if anyone will actually read this, but in case they do I will blog about the last couple books I have read.

Book 1 Alan Greenspan. Although it took me a long time to get through I found it to be very informative. It was long and boring, but it had lots of good stuff in it even for someone with limited economic knowledge like me. The first half he discusses his life and where he came from, how he got to the position he's in now etc. The second half goes over about every major country's economic woes and then some. I learned a lot and probably missed out on a lot of information because of my inability to remember numbers or statistics. I would recommend this book, but it is dry and it takes a while to muddle through all of the information thrown at you. It's also a little scary as you see where our economy is headed, but it's also hopeful because Greenspan reminds us that every recession brings with it just might take a while.

Book 2 "A Church in Search of Itself" It is a book about the Catholic church's hierarchy, the progressions it's made (or hasn't made), the problems within, and a good look at the past and present Pope. Overall I enjoyed this book, I liked reading about something I really didn't know all that much about. I am Catholic so I knew the basics, but I didn't know anything about JP 2's background and knew even less about Pope Benedict. The author was also a former Jesuit so he wasn't attacking the hierarchy as many do, but there's a certain amount of history that needs to be understood as to why the church sometimes acts the way it does and he definitely had that knowledge. He gave some great insight into how things operate and the sad direction the church might be headed if it doesn't start to catch up the ever changing society it's very own members live in. I can't say I'm a big fan of Pope Benedict after reading this, but I'll keep those opinions to myself and allow you to read the book for yourself.

A tribute to the one and only Amy Sedaris (applause)

As I mentioned in the above posting I love Amy Sedaris. I sometimes get bored at work and search youtube for her appearances on late night TV. Creepy? Maybe, but I like to think of it as furthering my creative spirit. Today I found some things about her.

1. Jerri Blank (from Strangers With Candy) is based on a real person. She is based on Florrie Fisher an actual user, boozer, and loser. She was a promotional speaker in the 70's and oddly enough ended her life in mystery as she was believed to have fallen back to her old ways, but no one really knows for sure. It is her lovely face that adorns the heading of my delicious blog.

2. Animals love snacks...a for real deal quote she said while on an episode of Letterman a couple years ago.

2. David Letterman loves having her on his show.

3. She makes Martha Stewart uncomfortable and anyone who can do that is a friend of mine.

4. She used to have a fake boyfried named Ricky, but he was tragically fake murdered.

5. She is in a rabbit society and owns a rabbit named Dusty (he is real).

6. She used to have a fake monkey named Pockets, but he was too troublesome.

I think that's it. I know many of you may be a bit put off by my love for Ms. Sedaris, but rest assured it's a healthy admiration for a very creative and funny woman.

Animals Love Snacks

So I begin...a few times in my life I have been told to write a book or something of that nature, so this is it. Although this is no book I feel like it's the lazy man's book...a blog. I will begin by talking about myself, because that's what blogs are all about. Blogs to me are to make people feel self important by dedicating one whole web page to themselves where they hope people will come and read what they have to say, then if it's any good they will go around to all of their friends and talk about how funny, sad, or pathetic your blog sounds compared to their 2nd cousin's blog. Now, that being said I hope mine is JUST as pathetic as the next person's and that will now be my goal.

I was actually going to start this blog months ago, but in my typical Julie fashion it took me a while to do it. Why am I so lazy you ask? I'm not sure I like to tell my crazy Christian friends it's just the way God made me and for my agnostic heathen friends I will just say because I am and I like it, so get off this. I hope this blog will capture my humor, wit, personality, quirkiness, and most of all humility. I will be guided by the things that I like to write mostly me, but maybe I'll talk about squirrels, owls, snacks, family, books, bad TV, bad politics, Amy Sedaris, dating associates, regular associates, hobos, hookers, and bums (especially the ones that hang outside my apartment). I feel like I have so much catching up to do!

My friends tell me that I tell them the same stories over and over again and although I have no idea what they're talking about this will be my chance to just tell the story once and let everyone I know (because they will all be reading this) read the story on me blog.

I will begin by telling you about myself. I like fatty snacks. That ranges from tortilla chips to peanut butter. I have one very funny sister that inspires much of my humor and two parents. They are funny sometimes too, but not always on purpose. They are great and supportive parents though and I love them lots. I have a delightful group of close friends that make my life great and keep me in line along with a few very close friends that I couldn't get along with out. I live in the city of ill repute known as New York City and sometimes work in TV and documentary film making. I wish that I was motivated enough to make my own documentary, but instead I just work on other people's great ideas. I like awkward humor and poop jokes, but I don't often laugh at your average comedian's jokes. I am sensitive, caring, and a bit obsessive...okay a lot obsessive. I love and hate people all at the same time. I talk too much, have too many opinions that change on a daily basis and I am extremely passionate (about certain things). I watch way too much TV, but I also read a lot. I feel like a good dose of Tolstoy can balance out Rock of Love 2. I think this may be me in a nut shell, but when do people actually have an accurate view of who they are? I will end with sometimes on this blog I will try to be funny and just let me know when I suck.

Oh yes! The title is a quote from Amy Sedaris, but it is true animals do indeed love snacks...and so do I.