Preppy is the New Hipster

Do I look like a cocktail waitress? I had never gotten the impression that I did. I guess the woman who waxed my eyebrows thought I did. Now I am walking around with cocktail waitress eyebrows. This does not sit well with me.

That I am going to get any constructive work done today. I am so excited about taking the LSAT. I feel like a little kid on the day before halloween, or an athlete coming up to an all star game. I am passed the point of caring if I do well or not, I am just plan excited right now!

Jesus Camp. Comes to town next week. I am so excited to see it. I dont know what my major issue with religion is....maybe I am Joe McCarthy and it is my red scare, but I just cant get enough of these nutty good-doers!

I am actually all jazzed up about the movie options these days. The French film fest at AFI, the Latin American film fest, 49up, The new terry gilliam flick, the french graphic novel type and the list goes on. Do you want to see these movies with me? I usually like to go alone, because I kind of hate when people talk about a film right afterward, but I always feel compelled to put the other person, or perhaps myself at ease, by the whole you know, "so, what did you think?" If you want to come, please call me 555-1212. on a side note, I refuse to enter a theater late.

I recently saw the new gondry film. It was great, beautiful as to be expected, and just like it was supposed to do, it made me think of every lover I have ever had, real or imagined. It wasn't sad per se, but you know that sort of interesting bullshit to think about how two people fit together. Parallel Syncronized Randomness, I believe, is what our emotionally battered hero called it. He is right and I think it is true, but that is just because I am a hopeless romantic.

....and preppiness has usurped hispster-dom and achieved a whole new level of ultra cool, I think I should get a tattooo embracing this serious social evolution. Since monograming has a special place in the heart of a preppster, they monogram their linens, their flatware, their shirt pockets and their belts(the list could go on). I think a good combination of the narcisistic tendencies of the prepsters and the ink obcessed hipsters would be getting a monogram tattoo. I am thinking "LRB" cursive and in the very middle of my back. Tres chic, no?

This is how I want to ask my teacher out. Should I do it or not? Comments please.

"P***" (name changed to protect the innocent) I need some logical reasoning help on this one:

After a two and a half months of studying, going easy on the drinking and embracing the social life comparable to a perpetually grounded teenager, LRB is presented with a social conundrum. Her dear friend who she has been neglecting all August is having a cocktail party on a certain night, the same night that her LSAT class is having a celebration soiree. The cocktail party promises beautiful views of the city, delicious wine, good friends, the opportunity to wear a favorite dress and a whiskey sour or two. On the other hand the celebration soiree is also making some attractive promises-the opportunity to make new friends, the chance to hang out with my teacher-who must be pretty interesting because he can make her laugh out loud(in LSAT class nonetheless), and to nurse wounds with those other kids who have also spent the summer in a virtual sanatorium.

Given the above information which one of the following logically solves the conundrum :

(A) LRB goes to the cocktail party with the dress and the WSs and realizes she didn’t really like anyone in class anyway.
(B) LRB goes to the celebration soiree and tells herself she doesn’t really like WSs and her friends are boring and overrated(even though they have a sweet APT).
(C) LRB waits to see where the celebration soiree will be held bc she is a bit snotty.
(D) LRB invites her teacher to the cocktail party then lets him convince her to go meet up with the rest of the class(she probably wouldn’t be able to leave on her own-since she is weak willed), where slightly toasted LRB talks about how she thinks law school is cooler than cancer.
(E) LRB stays at home a drinks a bottle and a half of chardonnay and realizes that she hates socializing anyway.

As of October 1st, my gym is going to be open twenty-four hours a day. You know what that means, its going to be like a Las Vegas buffet featuring all you can eat-gay-male soft-porn and girls with excersize anorexia. Yay!

Aj just came out with a new mix, Ancedote. While some of my compadres thinks that is kind of sucks wind-like Tony Soprano-mid panic attack. I kind of think it rules.
Part of the criticism of this mix come from some of the selections, ie Oasis(which I love) and Mariah Carey. I have had a major closet obcession with MC ever since she came out with her number ones album, which my then-roomate Emily and I had a serious addiction too.
So I have come out, Mariah probably makes the top ten of my guilty pleasures list. More on that to come later.

It is amazing to work with a woman who is smart, nice, strong and funny. I feel so lucky. Although I am a little worried that this love for my new boss(a woman) is further confirmation that I hate men.

So work sucks a lot right now. I am stuck in this mode of daydreaming about the future, things I want to accomplish, etc. However in order to accomplish anything in the future, I have to be productive in the present. In order to flush them out of my head I feel the need to write them all down.

Take French lessons
Get my motorcycle license(Vespa?)
Learn how to ride a fixed gear
Get into Law School(of my choice)
Improve my writing
Get a hair cut
Get glasses
Get new clothes
Move out of my current house
Buy speakers
Have a birthday party

Another thing that is on my mind, while I am at it. So Saturday night Walnutz has one of the famed ribs and champagne parties. It was a little heavy on the meat i.e. 30 guys, 5 girls and a lot of ribs, but fun, to be sure. I was happy to see DKNY, Rock bottom and stu's new gal. I had not socialized in a while, but I was thankful when I realized it was not difficult to talk and flirt with a attractive non-glasses wearing new guy. My social charm was feeling a bit rusty, but I could tell he didn’t mind and the flirting was equally reciprocated. So said boy has to leave, not feeling well, sinus infection or some such shit, which frankly I was happy about bc I was getting into the bubbly and my charm factor was probably exponentially deteriorating. But after a good amount of “LB magic” as my friend DKNY dubbed it, all I get is a "see you around". Like what? Ask for my phone number and say you’ll call me in October. I know he wanted to or maybe he didn’t. I clearly have no idea.

So the Dcist offers an update on why the mathletes can't swim in the Potomac. Its pretty gross, but I still think that TR would have gone the distance.

I'm off to the library. I think that my anti-social behavior threat has just been raised to a level, "orange".

So I just read on the DCist that the Capital Tri-athlon is now going to be a "Duathalon". What a bunch of wusses. Teddy Roosevelt used to take foreign heads of state swimming in the Potomac during their diplomatic visits, and he was even a sickly child. So now one hundred years later of the superfreaks who participate in these impossible physical competitions are, thanks to the dc gov, unable to use the great natural resource that is the Potomac. Personally if I voted in this district, I would demand that Mr. Fenti bring back the Potomac! Simply because I just love the image of GWB and Mahmoud Ahmadinejad (“MA”) taking a dip together after a heated debate over nuclear arms. I imagine GWB in oversized board shorts and MA in a little brazilian style short. Teddy would be proud!

So yesterday I got a phone call from my brother asking me if I was listening to GWB talk to the nation. I wasn't. Now I thought he was taking my studying as an opportunity to slip in one of his ridiculous lies, like seeing Morgan Spurlock eating the fruit cup at MacDs or like the time he was was in the UCLA locker rooms wearing one of the swimming suits from The Life Aquatic and Owen Wilson walked by and gave him THE nod. I mean I would never say that AJ(aka Broham, aka Janice, aka Burnt Bridge(a personal favorite)) is a liar, he just thinks he is pretty funny.

I thought that he was trying to pull a fast one when he was saying that Bush just told the America that middle eastern countries need somewhat of a self confidence booster and recognize that oil is not why people want to be friends with them, and we are more interested in their inner creativity. Hold up, the PC midget, oops little person, on my shoulder just told me to make sure its clear that I actually agree with what GWB had to say and I do. I think middle easterners have rad style, I just love what they are doing with Dubai.

Needless to say I was shocked this morning when I went to go read the transcript of the speech. He actual said it. I mean come on. He sounds more like Ms. Lippy and less like the leader of the free world, which incidentally now includes these rich kids with self-image problems.

Incidentally this reminds me of an article that I recently read in the New Yorker about how a Deerfield Alum, who just happens to be the King of Jordan is working on opening up an American Style Prep school in the desert. Ah, perhaps this was the solution that Bush was implying last night in his speech, after all he is a product of one himself. I mean look at me, it did wonders for my creativity, I am the best liar I know.

As a lover of vintage clothes, bakelite plastic and eighties music, the concept of borrowed nostalgia for an unremembered past is not something new to me. On this, the fifth anniversary for the day that changed the way we think about security, I am taken back five years ago to Boulder in a blueberry-induced haze I got the news of what happened in New York. I was scared, but not scared enough. I felt so removed from all the things in my life that were real and important. The images on television, the voices of loved ones-these things were so far away from me both physically and psychologically. Its not as though I could have done anything, but five years later I still find myself consumed with guilt for being so far away, so helpless. I want to grieve properly. I want the memories. Flipping on the television at the gym, I see the commemorative segments on the news and I feel like I am watching “I love the eighties”, rather than bits about something that actually happened in my lifetime. All morning I have been searching for a reason to explain this feeling. I can’t.

So recently I have gotten really nasty at riding my bike without my hands, a skill which has eluded me up until this point in my life. While this skill makes me look extra hip and cool riding down 21st on my way to Gelman, it is definately the sharpest double edge sword I have ever played with.


Note to readers-if you see a long break in P is the new H entries I would start simultaneously checking the obituary column because I surely will spilling my brains all over the poorly maintained sidewalks of this fine city.

So I was going to post something really nasty about how much I hate obese people, and I think they are a drain on society and they make me want to write a letter to someone saying “hey don’t you think it would be great if each office had a special bathroom where people could go to throw up their french fries after lunch.” But that is neither nice nor productive; all of those people who take up two seats on the metro PROBABLY have genetic problems.

Instead I thought I would focus my attention on what is really on my mind. So I heard through the grapevine that MPC, the XBF, is moving in with his Current GF, (“CGF”). This is the boy(def not a man) that for 6 months of my life I thought would be the father of my sixteen perfect little blonde children. In all fairness-I think that I meet this man about 3 times a week-the man on the metro, the boy in the library, the random guy I spoke with in passing at the gym, etc.

My emotions are like an independent voting on middle of the road legislation, they go back and forth. Right now I am oscillating between on one hand being happy for him, because ultimately he is a good guy and should be happy on the other hand to pissed-off at him and myself. I think I am more pissed off at this point in time. I am pissed off at him for his passive aggressive behavior. IF YOU DON’T LIKE SOMEONE ANYMORE YOU BREAK UP WITH THEM. Why is this such a hard concept for these be-spectacled assholes that I seem to like. I mean I don’t see what the big deal is, and I think it is bullshit.

I am pissed off at myself because I was blinded by his glasses and taste in obscure music to realize that it was over sooner. I probably spent like thousands of dollars(train rides, dinners, presents (I love to give presents bc I think I am really good at it, and I am) during this period of the relationship trying to get things back on track. What a dummy. When I brought up possibly moving in, or even living in the same place he responds, “I never want to live with someone, I did it once before and I ended up really hating her.” –MPC. Thanks MPC, you are the sweetest BF ever.

Its so weird, like I am glad I am not with him anymore. I am in SUCH a better place than I ever was with him. I mean his family values were seriously out of whack and frankly having a mimosa on Sunday afternoon is one thing, but getting black-out-drunk and fighting in a bar before getting on the train home to cry your eyes out in front of a bunch of perfect strangers is quite another.

Anyway, I wish him and his CGF well. He is not a bad guy and she is probably pretty cool, but CGF-a word to the wise, if you think he might be pulling away, he has been for the last six months.

Yeah me and DFW. I was very bad last night. I cut LSAT class early and heading home with the intent to focus on logical reasoning I got quickly distracted. I mean who can resist Maria Sharapova in a tennis/cocktail dress grunting and sweaty, I certainly cannot. Neither can my roommates. The girls get major points for style and hotness, not to mention have a lesbian as a top ranked player, which is just cool.
Honestly though it’s the boys that really float my boat. I really cannot think of any comparison to their supreme hotness, minus a few squash players. I find my taste in these guys it is kind of odd. Normally I fancy myself as a bit of an intellectual snob, and most of these guys dropped out of middle school to tour, I guess their sweaty forearms and their taste in smart athletic clothing supersedes any need for conversation. Oh wait I just realized the correlation. Each of these men that I have in mind, a Spaniard, a Nebraskan, a Swiss, are all gorgeous, smart, sweet on and off the court, and yes, you guessed it, completely unavailable. At least unlike the other unavailable men in my life, I have access to them on television any time I need it, which quite frankly is probably more responsive than some of the guys in my life.

I have spent the last few days at the GW library. Its depressing on a number of levels. I find one inparticular rather irksome-the lack of cute grad students and the over abundance of hooded sweatshirts. Today, I think, was the first day of classes yet Gelman is littered with pimpily undergrads. I thought this would be the perfect way to meet the next guy at the top of my list, with glasses and all. I guess I will have to check out the medical school because with my luck I know for sure they are not hanging out at the law school.

I start my new job tomorrow. I am very excited. I get to figure out what to do with dead people's money.

Its too bad that all I can do is think about quiting and moving to San Fransisco, San Diego, Portland, Seattle, New York and Lima. Oh well. Its probably just because not having internet at my house makes me want to commit suicide.

I am a big fan of the District of Columbia. Lately have become bogged down my the everyday working, studying, excersizing, eating, transporting, and worring about my love life to remember that hey, I am actually quite happy to be living in this mid-sized mid-atlantic city. Last night me and my surrogate family checked out the (relatively) new spot in town-H Street, NE. Here is my review of the spots we hit up.
Its got to be quick since I am sitting in the library, not studying and I am supposed to be going to Agatha's b-day party in a few hours.

The Red and The Black-We actually didn't stay here. I really wished we did bc it looked pretty cool. It was complete with super-cute hipster bouncer at the door, and a decent sized upstairs stage where I would like to go and listen to rock and roll. The crowd looked a bit older, which I actually like, and when I say older I mean gray hairs-nice and salty. But Dave forgot his ID and had to leave so we wandered outside and were convinced to check out:

The Palace of Wonders because we heard there was a burlesque show happening at 10:00. This turned out to be not true bc of the holiday weekend. The Palace of Wonders is a concept bar, which typically turns me off. Its like a carnival-freak show type of thing. They have weird paper-mache mummies meant to look real and two headed lambs and shit which may or maynot be real. It was kind of gross, you know like the decor at Ruby Tuesdays or any family american dining chain. I think the freaky uncle of the guy - who decorates for Applebees - decorated this place when he had just gotten back from a trip to crazytown. The weather was great so the crew sat outback on the patio. Their was a cat that I wanted to take home with me. The PoW, despite my being slightly apaulled off by the concept bar thing, gets a good review and I am interested to see a burlesque show there, kind of. Note-if you are going to check out this spot I reccomend going with my friend Dave because he is one of those guys that really takes his time and looks at the shit around him. Ask him about Fivey. After a couple of rounds someone throws out the idea of a pub crawl. This seems like a good idea to everyone and I start trying to round people up and start using the verb "crawl" in the most offensive way, ie "are you guys ready to crawl?". and I hate myself.

The Rock and Roll Hotel was the next and last destination of the crawl. I liked this place from the beginning, they put a cute blue star stamp on the inside of my wrist-yay-those gentrifyers sure have a knack for originality. Downstairs there is a dj spinning some really loud jungle-of which I am not really a fan-so I head upstairs. I think it is called a hotel because it has different rooms some of which are locked, which kind of turned Mark into a Sherlock Holmes type trying to investigate why they were locked. Anyway there is a big bar which is nice and cute bartender-she is no sarah, but cute. One room was this great red velvet room, and it looked like their should be some like chains on the wall(no Taylor there weren't), but it is classier than that. Another room, the one we choose, was the colonial style couch room. Pamela got attacked by some STD-carrying tourists, aka austrialians. I am not going to describe it, because I think I am going to throw my birthday party there and I dont want to ruin the surprize for everyone. Its rad, and I'll leave it at that. So come, give me birthday kisses and check it out for yourself. Oh yeah, and there was some lady throwing up in the bathroom.

H-Street gets a thumbs up, and I will definately be going back since I didnt get to try the Rib Tip, and other places.

It was quite a nice night, and we finished it off with a ride from Terry the Taxi.

This movie was so good it made me want to throw up. Go see it, alone, on an empty stomach.