How do we really know that we are on the right path? How do we know that our choices are correct? There's no way to check our work. There's no answer key. Are we in the right line of work? Did we marry the right person? Should we really have had kids when we did? We just live every day and take it as it comes. But if we have to deal with what we have and take it as it is, then how do we know that we should change? How do we know it's wrong if we can't check to see if the answer is right?
I don't like not knowing things and I don't like being surprised and unprepared. It makes me uneasy, so I guess, then life itself makes me uneasy. I've always stood firmly behind the idea that we learn from experiences (good or bad) and then we do it better but when it's not just about living, when you have to make an actual decision (go right or go left)no one can tell you if you're right. And, for someone like me who loves to check and recheck and operates with the idea that you are either right or wrong at all times, it's not exactly easy to make choices.
My friend recently said to me as we were having a conversation that I should just pick up and move to another city, like London since I'm such an Anglophile. When I said that I could never do that because I'm a worrier and don't like uncertainty, she seemed confused and said "you seem like the type of person who would just do something like that--Who's ballsy enough." I thought that night about what she said and although it seems like a good idea on paper since I don't really have anything tying me down here, I could never do it. It was interesting that she views me as someone who's brave and gutsy and able to run out into the unknown. Brave is not a word I would use to describe me. I'm a perfectionist, a worrier, a realist, bossy, observant, witty but not brave.
Then I thought: What if she's right? Sometimes people can see us better than we see ourselves and maybe I am braver than I think I am. Maybe I'm like Bilbo Baggins who lived on his quiet shire with his predictable life until Gandalf came along and taught him that he was brave and courageous and then he can't stop and yearns for adventure for the rest of his life(yeah, that parallel just happened). So, I've decided that I'm not going to be scared anymore. I am braver than I give myself credit for and I may just start jumping off some ledges this year.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013
I Resolve to Not Make Resolutions
January. The time of every year where people make "resolutions" that they promise to keep this time. No, really. They will. It's sooo different than last January. And yet, by February (or if lucky by March)it's all forgotten and back to our old tricks and nasty habits.
I learned last year, that you can't force yourself to do things, just because you learned from a young age what and who you're supposed to be, or think that's how you're supposed to be. Last year I gave myself Goals. Yes, I like to call them Goals, maybe it's just a less fancy word but it isn't as daunting as RESOLUTION (which is defined as 'a firm determination'---scary!). Yes, smoking is bad for you and you should quit. And January comes around and you do. For about 3 weeks and then you go back to smoking. Because you weren't ready to let it go, you needed more time! But everyone told you to do it and you listened. Foolish.
I wrote down things that I've wanted to do, or was supposed to do but never did, the projects that I never finished. I wrote the most plausible and easiest to accomplish at the top and then continued with the bigger things. I wrote this list with the desire of completing these things within the year but recognized that I may not be ready for some of them. Sometimes, people fail to realize that they aren't ready for certain things in their lives and forcing yourself to do something is counterproductive and usually always ends in failure.
So, some things from horrid 2012 have rolled into the new year. I recognize that I needed a little more time. And that's ok. Because life is all about timing and patience and I think I may have finally mastered that recently.
I began writing this blog a few years ago, because I wasn't taking many classes and I felt that I was getting stupid and forgot how to properly write. Although last year I didn't write as much as I should've, I'm actually surprised it's survived this long. I tend to get bored of things easily and abandon them, but it's still here and its' the same link from the beginning and I'm quite proud of that. That's one of the goals this year: write more blog posts. I think I'm going to get a check plus for that goal.
I learned last year, that you can't force yourself to do things, just because you learned from a young age what and who you're supposed to be, or think that's how you're supposed to be. Last year I gave myself Goals. Yes, I like to call them Goals, maybe it's just a less fancy word but it isn't as daunting as RESOLUTION (which is defined as 'a firm determination'---scary!). Yes, smoking is bad for you and you should quit. And January comes around and you do. For about 3 weeks and then you go back to smoking. Because you weren't ready to let it go, you needed more time! But everyone told you to do it and you listened. Foolish.
I wrote down things that I've wanted to do, or was supposed to do but never did, the projects that I never finished. I wrote the most plausible and easiest to accomplish at the top and then continued with the bigger things. I wrote this list with the desire of completing these things within the year but recognized that I may not be ready for some of them. Sometimes, people fail to realize that they aren't ready for certain things in their lives and forcing yourself to do something is counterproductive and usually always ends in failure.
So, some things from horrid 2012 have rolled into the new year. I recognize that I needed a little more time. And that's ok. Because life is all about timing and patience and I think I may have finally mastered that recently.
I began writing this blog a few years ago, because I wasn't taking many classes and I felt that I was getting stupid and forgot how to properly write. Although last year I didn't write as much as I should've, I'm actually surprised it's survived this long. I tend to get bored of things easily and abandon them, but it's still here and its' the same link from the beginning and I'm quite proud of that. That's one of the goals this year: write more blog posts. I think I'm going to get a check plus for that goal.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
If You Can't Find The Drunk In The Bar, It's Probably You!
This is my advise for today: If you look around at a bar late at night and cannot find the token drunk of the bar, it is probably you, my friend. And you should probably be heading home.
After a much too long hibernation these last few months, I finally went out for a doubleheader this weekend--consecutive Friday and Saturday nights. And what a weekend it was. On Saturday night I travelled to the far away land known as Brooklyn. I prayed that the MTA wouldn't open the L train so that the birthday party would be relocated to a better borough (ehem, Manahattan...) but alas, to Brooklyn we went.
The place was jammed packed and it was difficult to get to the bar, let alone any kind of prompt service. After finally getting my Pumpkin Ale, I looked around and observed the natives. A giant hodgepodge of actual hipsters, pretend hipsters, sassy gays, and 2 out of place Bronx girls. An hour or two later, around midnight, when I was settled at the bar in deep conversation, a man asked if he could squeeze in to get to the counter. I thought nothing of it and figured he needed to close out. He didn't. He just wanted to settle in between me and my friend to drink his cocktail while practically sitting on my lap.
After about 2 minutes, we realized that he wasn't leaving and that he had a vacant gaze while he looked around the bar. It was the token drunk of the night! 5 minutes later, we realized that he would periodically nod off while standing and then wake to look at me with his drunken glazy eyes. The bartender quickly realized that he was the Token and offered apologetic complimentary Jameson shots for the group.
I wondered this, where were his friends? Why did he think that another drink was appropriate? And, does he know?
I wanted to ask him if he knew he was the token drunk and how sad it was to be standing alone because your friends left you for being an embarassing appendage while they tried to hit on girls. But of course he wouldn't have been able to answer, or comprehend or remember the conversation the next day. I have been to enough bars at all sorts of hours of the day to be able to spot the Token. It's the guy who thinks he knows his limit, but always seems to go beyond it into the black abyss of darkened hangovers. He doesn't know where he is, let alone how to get home, and it never occured to him to stop. Because maybe he's sad. Or maybe his boss yelled at him and he's getting evicted from his apartment and he doesn't know how to deal with things.
There's a sad pathetic-ness to the Token. I want to spit on him and hug him all at the same time. Because no one should have to drink that much just so they could have a way to escape from the world. Or maybe, I just have a soft spot for that far away glazy eyed look because I have seen it up close and have felt sad for those eyes and the person hiding behind them.
On Saturday though, I just laughed and realized he wasn't my problem. I had my own problem: figure out the quickest way out of Brooklyn!
After a much too long hibernation these last few months, I finally went out for a doubleheader this weekend--consecutive Friday and Saturday nights. And what a weekend it was. On Saturday night I travelled to the far away land known as Brooklyn. I prayed that the MTA wouldn't open the L train so that the birthday party would be relocated to a better borough (ehem, Manahattan...) but alas, to Brooklyn we went.
The place was jammed packed and it was difficult to get to the bar, let alone any kind of prompt service. After finally getting my Pumpkin Ale, I looked around and observed the natives. A giant hodgepodge of actual hipsters, pretend hipsters, sassy gays, and 2 out of place Bronx girls. An hour or two later, around midnight, when I was settled at the bar in deep conversation, a man asked if he could squeeze in to get to the counter. I thought nothing of it and figured he needed to close out. He didn't. He just wanted to settle in between me and my friend to drink his cocktail while practically sitting on my lap.
After about 2 minutes, we realized that he wasn't leaving and that he had a vacant gaze while he looked around the bar. It was the token drunk of the night! 5 minutes later, we realized that he would periodically nod off while standing and then wake to look at me with his drunken glazy eyes. The bartender quickly realized that he was the Token and offered apologetic complimentary Jameson shots for the group.
I wondered this, where were his friends? Why did he think that another drink was appropriate? And, does he know?
I wanted to ask him if he knew he was the token drunk and how sad it was to be standing alone because your friends left you for being an embarassing appendage while they tried to hit on girls. But of course he wouldn't have been able to answer, or comprehend or remember the conversation the next day. I have been to enough bars at all sorts of hours of the day to be able to spot the Token. It's the guy who thinks he knows his limit, but always seems to go beyond it into the black abyss of darkened hangovers. He doesn't know where he is, let alone how to get home, and it never occured to him to stop. Because maybe he's sad. Or maybe his boss yelled at him and he's getting evicted from his apartment and he doesn't know how to deal with things.
There's a sad pathetic-ness to the Token. I want to spit on him and hug him all at the same time. Because no one should have to drink that much just so they could have a way to escape from the world. Or maybe, I just have a soft spot for that far away glazy eyed look because I have seen it up close and have felt sad for those eyes and the person hiding behind them.
On Saturday though, I just laughed and realized he wasn't my problem. I had my own problem: figure out the quickest way out of Brooklyn!
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
You Gotta Have A Plan...For The Zombies
Zombie Apocalyse. It's happening. One of these days. But when it does, I'll be prepared. I have a plan or at least a basis for a plan. I mean, how well can you plan for the unexpected. We don't know how or when it's going to begin. Will it begin in Asia? In America? In NY? In Florida? We don't know but we should have a plan!
There are the facts:
1. You get as far away from densely populated areas as fast as you can. 8.2 million people in NYC. 8.2 million ways to get dead.
2. You gather a group of useful and able people. Defending yourself, hunting, cooking, carrying equipment is a lot of work for one person. You should probably make a group on your phone so you can speed dial them when the outbreak occurs
a. these are the following people/professions that should tag along:
- doctor
- cop
- construction worker
- a fast runner
- people that don't frazzle easily
- someone who owns a cabin, farmhouse, or lakehouse in the countryside.
Preferably with lots of land, a fence, on high ground.
(this is optional. We could always just take it from someone)
- someone slow or physically disabled. For bait. (don't judge me.)
3. You gather supplies. Not 3 months from now when the world is in shambles and the undead are running around and the unaffected are killing each other because our civilzation doesn't know how to handle ourselves in a crisis. Right NOW! I never understand why the people in these zombie movies and shows wait until the last minute to start moving. The SECOND I catch wind of an outbreak, I'm out of here! I'm going to the grocery store, the bank (to take out all my money--zombie bank tellers are no help when you want to make a withdrawl), Home Depot, a place that sells weapons, and Target. There is no, "lets wait a while and see if it goes away". pfft, people.
4. There is a clear understanding that there are no emotional attachements to anyone. If you're coming with me, you better know that if you are bit, scratched, or get some zombie juice in your eye, I will kill you. Even if you are my sister. You're putting the group in danger. Go quietly to the light. I'm sure we'll meet you there soon enough
I think about what would happen in a disaster a lot. Not just zombies, but tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes, etc.. I love watching disaster movies because it makes me realize that I don't know how to do anything. We're so sheltered as a civilization, in the cities especially. These are the following things I plan to do in the next year so that I am better prepared for life:
1. learn how to shoot a gun properly. All guns.
2. learn to shoot a bow and arrow (silent zombie killers. Gunshots=only last resort)
3. learn to fight. Hand to hand combat. If anyone knows of an underground fight club please let me know. I figure you have to be in it to learn properly.
4. learn how to build a fire
Be prepared, stay alive.
And to those of you who have made the cut for my group, you will be contacted soon to work out the details.
There are the facts:
1. You get as far away from densely populated areas as fast as you can. 8.2 million people in NYC. 8.2 million ways to get dead.
2. You gather a group of useful and able people. Defending yourself, hunting, cooking, carrying equipment is a lot of work for one person. You should probably make a group on your phone so you can speed dial them when the outbreak occurs
a. these are the following people/professions that should tag along:
- doctor
- cop
- construction worker
- a fast runner
- people that don't frazzle easily
- someone who owns a cabin, farmhouse, or lakehouse in the countryside.
Preferably with lots of land, a fence, on high ground.
(this is optional. We could always just take it from someone)
- someone slow or physically disabled. For bait. (don't judge me.)
3. You gather supplies. Not 3 months from now when the world is in shambles and the undead are running around and the unaffected are killing each other because our civilzation doesn't know how to handle ourselves in a crisis. Right NOW! I never understand why the people in these zombie movies and shows wait until the last minute to start moving. The SECOND I catch wind of an outbreak, I'm out of here! I'm going to the grocery store, the bank (to take out all my money--zombie bank tellers are no help when you want to make a withdrawl), Home Depot, a place that sells weapons, and Target. There is no, "lets wait a while and see if it goes away". pfft, people.
4. There is a clear understanding that there are no emotional attachements to anyone. If you're coming with me, you better know that if you are bit, scratched, or get some zombie juice in your eye, I will kill you. Even if you are my sister. You're putting the group in danger. Go quietly to the light. I'm sure we'll meet you there soon enough
I think about what would happen in a disaster a lot. Not just zombies, but tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes, etc.. I love watching disaster movies because it makes me realize that I don't know how to do anything. We're so sheltered as a civilization, in the cities especially. These are the following things I plan to do in the next year so that I am better prepared for life:
1. learn how to shoot a gun properly. All guns.
2. learn to shoot a bow and arrow (silent zombie killers. Gunshots=only last resort)
3. learn to fight. Hand to hand combat. If anyone knows of an underground fight club please let me know. I figure you have to be in it to learn properly.
4. learn how to build a fire
Be prepared, stay alive.
And to those of you who have made the cut for my group, you will be contacted soon to work out the details.
Monday, October 8, 2012
I'm Officially Too Old And Without A Story To Tell
Since I moved back to the Bronx, the nights I have spent out in the City has greatly diminished. I used to go out at least 1-2 nights a week. Now, I'm lucky if I leave my couch 1 night out of a 2 week period. And usually I'm home by 11pm when I do go out. Aging has made me tired.
I miss the city so much though--Even more so when I finally do manage to get myself off my couch. But the thought of having to ride the 6 train back home for an hour makes me want to hurt myself. I miss the 15 minute cab ride home. Going out in the Bronx is ok, but it's not the same. Our choices here are limited.
I was on the UES this past Saturday. I left around 1 am and while walking to the train, I passed by all the bars on 2nd and 3rd avenue. And I realized something: I didn't actually miss going to bars. I just shook my head as I passed the group of young twenty-somethings yelling and screaming down the block. I scoffed as I watched 2 drunk girls trying to get each other into a cab, each of them hoping the other knows where they live. I rolled my eyes I as saw some dude try to bring home the silly little girl he just met that night.
I don't miss that. But, as I was halfway to the train and waiting for the light to change I looked at all the cabs passing me by and just wanted to cry. It was 1:30am, I was tired and I wasn't even halfway home. I finally made it to the train platform to discover that the train had just left and I had another 10 minutes. As I waited, I looked around and noticed that among the garbage on the platform, there was a bunch of red stuff on the floor by the bench. Looking closer and putting it together was some soiled bounty towels that was on the bench, I realized it was blood. I wrinkled my nose, shook my head, took a picture and logged it into the memory bank.
Because I realized this: I don't have any more good stories. I thought about this while sitting on the train for 40 minutes. I've blogged less this year than ever before and I realized, it was a cycle. I don't go out, I don't see people and things, I have nothing to say, I don't blog, I watch a lot of Netflix, I go to bed. Yes, the city is dirty and noisy and there's lots of stupid people, but I had stories at least. When I'm older and tied down with kids and a husband (or two), I'm not really going to have stories. NOW is the time to be a part of the stories. So, for the next few months, before it gets way too cold to leave the house, I resolve to go out, meet new people, and find some stories. My couch will be there; I can spare a night or two out a week. It's not even that comfortable,anyway.
This is the only story I have:
I miss the city so much though--Even more so when I finally do manage to get myself off my couch. But the thought of having to ride the 6 train back home for an hour makes me want to hurt myself. I miss the 15 minute cab ride home. Going out in the Bronx is ok, but it's not the same. Our choices here are limited.
I was on the UES this past Saturday. I left around 1 am and while walking to the train, I passed by all the bars on 2nd and 3rd avenue. And I realized something: I didn't actually miss going to bars. I just shook my head as I passed the group of young twenty-somethings yelling and screaming down the block. I scoffed as I watched 2 drunk girls trying to get each other into a cab, each of them hoping the other knows where they live. I rolled my eyes I as saw some dude try to bring home the silly little girl he just met that night.
I don't miss that. But, as I was halfway to the train and waiting for the light to change I looked at all the cabs passing me by and just wanted to cry. It was 1:30am, I was tired and I wasn't even halfway home. I finally made it to the train platform to discover that the train had just left and I had another 10 minutes. As I waited, I looked around and noticed that among the garbage on the platform, there was a bunch of red stuff on the floor by the bench. Looking closer and putting it together was some soiled bounty towels that was on the bench, I realized it was blood. I wrinkled my nose, shook my head, took a picture and logged it into the memory bank.
Because I realized this: I don't have any more good stories. I thought about this while sitting on the train for 40 minutes. I've blogged less this year than ever before and I realized, it was a cycle. I don't go out, I don't see people and things, I have nothing to say, I don't blog, I watch a lot of Netflix, I go to bed. Yes, the city is dirty and noisy and there's lots of stupid people, but I had stories at least. When I'm older and tied down with kids and a husband (or two), I'm not really going to have stories. NOW is the time to be a part of the stories. So, for the next few months, before it gets way too cold to leave the house, I resolve to go out, meet new people, and find some stories. My couch will be there; I can spare a night or two out a week. It's not even that comfortable,anyway.
This is the only story I have:
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Top 10 Reasons For Having A Boyfriend
Bugs. I hate bugs. But when the occasion arises and I come face to face with one, I kill it (or at least try to while squealing). And every time I think, "god, if I only have a boyfriend I would make him kill it".
I have found during my single days that there is nothing that I cannot get through or handle. We never really NEED anyone else, we WANT someone else. And that's fine because it's nice having a companion to share things with or to do things with. Although some people get a bit too attached to the other person and you never see them again (ehem...).
So, while I was chasing and killing my last bug, I realized that bug killing was definitely on the list of pro-reasons for getting a boyfriend. I randomly listed it as #9 but I was curious to find out with that other numbers were. So, here is my list of reasons to get a boyfriend (in order of importance....I think...):
1. someone who will have sex with you even when you're not all dressed up---it's hard out there for a pimp! And it's really hard to try to look good all the time (first world problems, I know)
2. someone to cuddle with and watch a movie---there are only so many more pillows I can buy for my couch
3. someone to make and share a dinner with---"oh, look at the fabulous meal I just made!" I said to noone....
4. someone to do activities with--everything is better when there's two. Bowling, movie watching, hiking, wing eating, etc.
5. someone to kill all the bugs!!!!!!!
6. someone who you don't have to pay to build all the new Ikea furniture, or change the lightbulb or figure out how to connect the tv to the Super Nintendo, etc.
7. someone to pay for your dinner and/or drinks at least half the time---NYC is expensive! I'm not asking for lobster every night, but if he buys me a burger every once in a while, I would be a happy girl
8. A steady date for all occasions!
9. someone who shares your interests--it's kind of like #4 but I can't really call up Christina and say "yo! Jeopardy's on in 10 minutes wanna come over?!" and she also really doesn't care that the Doctor Who season just started or that The Avengers 2 will be out in 2015....
and finally....
10. someone to cuddle with. period. ----my pillow pet is so sick of me right now!
So there you have it. I don't ask for much. Just 10 little things. For now I will just continue to do these things by myself, for myself and to myself :-)
P.S. while Google searching "reasons to get a boyfriend" in order to see what others are saying, I was confronted with just the opposite. Apparently there are way more reasons to NOT get a boyfriend. Listed third from the top was this little article---"20 reasons you DON'T have a boyfriend" (I am only guilty of 2..3 at the most. Lets see if you can figure out which ones)
http://www.hookingupsmart.com/2009/09/28/relationshipstrategies/20-reasons-you-dont-have-a-boyfriend/
I have found during my single days that there is nothing that I cannot get through or handle. We never really NEED anyone else, we WANT someone else. And that's fine because it's nice having a companion to share things with or to do things with. Although some people get a bit too attached to the other person and you never see them again (ehem...).
So, while I was chasing and killing my last bug, I realized that bug killing was definitely on the list of pro-reasons for getting a boyfriend. I randomly listed it as #9 but I was curious to find out with that other numbers were. So, here is my list of reasons to get a boyfriend (in order of importance....I think...):
1. someone who will have sex with you even when you're not all dressed up---it's hard out there for a pimp! And it's really hard to try to look good all the time (first world problems, I know)
2. someone to cuddle with and watch a movie---there are only so many more pillows I can buy for my couch
3. someone to make and share a dinner with---"oh, look at the fabulous meal I just made!" I said to noone....
4. someone to do activities with--everything is better when there's two. Bowling, movie watching, hiking, wing eating, etc.
5. someone to kill all the bugs!!!!!!!
6. someone who you don't have to pay to build all the new Ikea furniture, or change the lightbulb or figure out how to connect the tv to the Super Nintendo, etc.
7. someone to pay for your dinner and/or drinks at least half the time---NYC is expensive! I'm not asking for lobster every night, but if he buys me a burger every once in a while, I would be a happy girl
8. A steady date for all occasions!
9. someone who shares your interests--it's kind of like #4 but I can't really call up Christina and say "yo! Jeopardy's on in 10 minutes wanna come over?!" and she also really doesn't care that the Doctor Who season just started or that The Avengers 2 will be out in 2015....
and finally....
10. someone to cuddle with. period. ----my pillow pet is so sick of me right now!
So there you have it. I don't ask for much. Just 10 little things. For now I will just continue to do these things by myself, for myself and to myself :-)
P.S. while Google searching "reasons to get a boyfriend" in order to see what others are saying, I was confronted with just the opposite. Apparently there are way more reasons to NOT get a boyfriend. Listed third from the top was this little article---"20 reasons you DON'T have a boyfriend" (I am only guilty of 2..3 at the most. Lets see if you can figure out which ones)
http://www.hookingupsmart.com/2009/09/28/relationshipstrategies/20-reasons-you-dont-have-a-boyfriend/
Friday, August 10, 2012
I Don't Know If You Know The Alexandris Sisters But We're Kind Of A Big Deal
Siblings. If you asked me 15 years ago what I thought of that I would've said "eh. so annoying. I wish I was an only child." Just another example of how I don't know a goddamn thing! Me as an only child would've been a disaster. I already have some bad only child traits, can you imagine if I had them all!? Shambles.
Now, as I am older and wiser, I can tell you that having siblings is great. It's never a dull moment. It took a long time for my sister and I to get along. Like, two decades long. It's nice having someone know what your face means without you even having to say anything (and if anyone knows us, they know we have a plethora of different faces) and that's something you learn when you've known someone for 2 1/2 decades--which is a crazy amount of time when you actually think about it.
There are no other two like the Alexandris sisters. Lucy and Ethel don't compare, nor do Thelma and Louise or Snookie and JWoww. To prove this point I propose this: give us our own reality tv show. Think about it, if we have the means to entertain the masses merely through facebook postings and textual conversations, imagine what we could achieve live on your tv screen!! We say and do some pretty hysterical shit and people are constantly telling us how entertaining we are. I don't mean to toot our own horns but BOOP BOOP, I am (and yes, that is what my horn sounds like).
I need someone to tell me how this can be done. I feel like I should start a petition or a facebook page and aim to get over a million 'likes'. Maybe then, MTV will give us our own show. I'll even consider E!, Bravo or really anyone who will have us. And the way to do it is this: one season. That's it. You can't overdo it, you have to leave the public wanting more. It has to be real. That's where they went wrong with the Jersesy Shore. First season, great--there wasn't anything else like it and 95% of it was actual stupid people being stupid. By season 3, you could see how scripted and methodical they were in their shenanigans--they had to think of reputation and endorsements and all that other nonesense. Not us. One season. That is all. And maybe a perfume line. But then that's it.
All the reality tv is insane. How do these people get their own show!? All those Housewives and Kardashians and Jerseylicious (I still don't know what that even is)...how did that happen? And why would people want to watch them over me? I just finished reading "Assholes Finish First" by Tucker Max. It literally is stories of his life which mostly focus on how wasted he got and describing his sexual encounters with hundreds of women. That's his second book!!! Who gave him 2 book deals AND a movie deal?! Why don't I know that person!? We can do what they do, and do it better. That is in fact, a guarantee.
Here are some examples of events and conversations that would've been on our show if we had had cameras following us:
--- The time we were stopped by Canadian borderpatrol because we were underage and traveling alone. When they called our mom she laughed at them and said things you do not say to border patrol at 11pm because she thought we were playing a joke on her
---the time I taught my sister about how the elderly have the highest rate on STD transmissions and all about unprotected sex in the nursing homes. You're welcome again
---The time we made waffles with ice cream, whipped cream and sprinkles and thought it was an appropriate meal to play classical music to while sitting at the dining room table, talking in English accents and discussing the upcoming makebelieve ball the neighbors were going to have
---The time we discussed how I could apply for a job at an escort service and what special skills would be included on my resume
---The time we made a complete outfit using just the tissue paper from the twins birthday gifts
--The time we stole all my brothers christmas presents and replaced them with coal
And those are only the things I remember while typing this. That's some amazing material if you ask me.....
Now, as I am older and wiser, I can tell you that having siblings is great. It's never a dull moment. It took a long time for my sister and I to get along. Like, two decades long. It's nice having someone know what your face means without you even having to say anything (and if anyone knows us, they know we have a plethora of different faces) and that's something you learn when you've known someone for 2 1/2 decades--which is a crazy amount of time when you actually think about it.
There are no other two like the Alexandris sisters. Lucy and Ethel don't compare, nor do Thelma and Louise or Snookie and JWoww. To prove this point I propose this: give us our own reality tv show. Think about it, if we have the means to entertain the masses merely through facebook postings and textual conversations, imagine what we could achieve live on your tv screen!! We say and do some pretty hysterical shit and people are constantly telling us how entertaining we are. I don't mean to toot our own horns but BOOP BOOP, I am (and yes, that is what my horn sounds like).
I need someone to tell me how this can be done. I feel like I should start a petition or a facebook page and aim to get over a million 'likes'. Maybe then, MTV will give us our own show. I'll even consider E!, Bravo or really anyone who will have us. And the way to do it is this: one season. That's it. You can't overdo it, you have to leave the public wanting more. It has to be real. That's where they went wrong with the Jersesy Shore. First season, great--there wasn't anything else like it and 95% of it was actual stupid people being stupid. By season 3, you could see how scripted and methodical they were in their shenanigans--they had to think of reputation and endorsements and all that other nonesense. Not us. One season. That is all. And maybe a perfume line. But then that's it.
All the reality tv is insane. How do these people get their own show!? All those Housewives and Kardashians and Jerseylicious (I still don't know what that even is)...how did that happen? And why would people want to watch them over me? I just finished reading "Assholes Finish First" by Tucker Max. It literally is stories of his life which mostly focus on how wasted he got and describing his sexual encounters with hundreds of women. That's his second book!!! Who gave him 2 book deals AND a movie deal?! Why don't I know that person!? We can do what they do, and do it better. That is in fact, a guarantee.
Here are some examples of events and conversations that would've been on our show if we had had cameras following us:
--- The time we were stopped by Canadian borderpatrol because we were underage and traveling alone. When they called our mom she laughed at them and said things you do not say to border patrol at 11pm because she thought we were playing a joke on her
---the time I taught my sister about how the elderly have the highest rate on STD transmissions and all about unprotected sex in the nursing homes. You're welcome again
---The time we made waffles with ice cream, whipped cream and sprinkles and thought it was an appropriate meal to play classical music to while sitting at the dining room table, talking in English accents and discussing the upcoming makebelieve ball the neighbors were going to have
---The time we discussed how I could apply for a job at an escort service and what special skills would be included on my resume
---The time we made a complete outfit using just the tissue paper from the twins birthday gifts
--The time we stole all my brothers christmas presents and replaced them with coal
And those are only the things I remember while typing this. That's some amazing material if you ask me.....
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