Pardon Me

My apologies for the incredibly long hiatus I've taken. It seems that working in Fashion leaves time for very little else. This post is going to mostly be bullet points because there is so much to tell and I don't have the energy to explain it all in detail just yet.

-Just after the new year, I landed an internship with Bismark Phillips, a fashion PR firm based in LA, NY, London, and Paris. Aside from a few slob kabobs, the job is really fun. And incredibly time consuming.

-Going to NYC in a week! I can't wait. I plan on overindulging my every whim.

-I applied for a spot on Birthright, an organization that grants free[ish] trips to Isreal for those born of Jewish descent. Apparently, thousands apply so I'm hoping it all works out. Fingers crossed.

-21 in 12 days. Fuck.

-I'm really learning a lot about how to handle people and which ones to associate myself with. I feel vindicated.


More later.

Movin on Down, to the South Side...

In one of my more earlier submissions, I mentioned moving to Savannah, Georgia. Initially, I thought of this as a romantic joke - I mean, really, can Jews like myself survive the humidity? There's a reason why I've only been to South Beach a handful of times in my life. But now, the more that I think about it, I believe it to be the best idea I've ever had.

Los Angeles is simply everything I expected it to be. I'm relaxed, calmed by the Pacific Ocean breeze on the PCH, spending my nights drinking wine with friends and eating delicious caprese salads, and spending the occassional night out. I expected this all.

What I didn't expect, truthfully, was how unhappy it would make me.

Some people thrive when in a routine. They enjoy knowing what's coming next and they need the comfort of preparation. Me? I'm never prepared, I like not knowing a damn thing, and I appreciate spontaeinity. Where better to find this then to move to a completely unfamiliar place?

I hope to make this move within the next year or so. I will get my BA first and if Grad school is in the cards, then I will try and find a college that coincides with my southern comfort.

the other night, while chatting with a girl that i'd just met from chicago who is studying at fidm, we both came to the conclusion that the united states may not be for us. don't get me wrong, i love the good ol' us of a, but if mccain is elected then the country will spiral deeper into social and financial ruin.

so many options, so MUCH time.

It's been a long, long time. I've been absent for a while due to the fact that I had to adjust to my LA lifestyle once again, especially without those who I used to allow it to include. Though last summer was fabulous and wonderful in it's own right, it was a fleeting, temporary situation saturated with plastic friendships and peeople who are so selfish and unimportant that the only thing i can feel for them is...pity. what a sad, sad feeling to have.

Life is tolerable at the moment. Though my move back to New York is immenient, I am allowing myself to enjoy what LA has to offer. I am enjoying the company of people that I never thought I would; I'm relaxing and living my life in a seriously different manner, which gives me incredible happiness; I'm learning to grow up, which is scary and wonderful and perfect and incredibly hard to articulate all at the same time.

I will make a conscious effort to post some interviews in the near future, but this week gives me no peace.

Soon,
FS

Who Gets What?

It's important to note that relationships --under any given circumstance-- are never balanced. I've struggled with this fact my entire life, as I've always felt that I give more to my relationships than the other person involved. I don't doubt that I'm not important to my friends, but I always seem to make myself more available, cater to and shift emotional and physical energies toward the aforementioned. After months of thought, I believe the reason to be my physical insecurity. I know I'm not the sexiest, most attractive or desirable person, and I've launched those feelings into a sick, self-depreciating tug-of-war between me and my friends. How important am I? Will you stick around if I don't satisfy or service your every emotional whim? Probably not, if you're as selfish as I've anticipated. But it seems that I've recently developed relationships that nullify my argument. My closest friends, currently, are truly close friends. Of course, there are moments of disappointment in which the inherent rules of a friendship shift dramatically; but for the most part, I'm content with the relationships I've created. Though, my friend and self-proclaimed fruitfly has brought up a rather novel concept - the friendship pre-nuptial agreement.

I've gone through terrible relationships with friends. In fact, my most recent wound, one that still hasn't completely healed, is due to my close friendship with Savannah, a staunch Republican who cites Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh as strong, upstanding members of the American community. Our friendship, while open, honest, and incredibly humorous was destined to fail from the beginning. We tried to steer clear of political discussions and enjoy the other facets of our de facto relationship, but in the end it simply became a matter of character and moral code. In simple terms, she believs that gay marriage isn't something to support, and this is simply a deal breaker. I thought it wasn't initially, as she claimed to always support my decisions in life...no matter what. But could she support my chosen partner's? A friend of a friend's? A lose acquaintance? A homosexual enemy? No. It simply wouldn't have ever worked out, and had we both known that from the start, a lot of pain, agony, stress and angst could have been avoided.

I don't need my future friendships to be indoctrinated, but the idea of knowing potential pitfalls before they happen is incredibly thought-provoking. But, then again, what's a relationship without the lowest lows? Would the highs be as memorable? Would they feel as good? Though fighting is emotionally taxing, isn't it necessary to deepen the friendship's roots? Or can a relationship survive on a thinly vialed happiness? I couldn't tell you.

Music Minute: She's Just Being Miley

More indepth piece later, but, for now, listen to Cyrus's latest release 7 Things

anxiety is the new black

it's been a while, so there's a lot to report. too much, in fact, so i will not be able to go into very much detail. but here's a quick lowdown of recent events:

1. met khloe kardashian. it was as magical as i'd hoped it would be. i cried in my matzo ball soup.

2. i may be quitting my internship with the mag. more later.

3. fruit fly returns tonight. epic.

4. my parents have left for europe. i am so anxious i could die right now.

maybe there wasn't a lot to report.

the khloe story will be coming soon.

Coffee Stories

I am well aware that my addiction to cigarettes can be offensive to those who choose not to smother their lungs in tabacco-y goodness. And despite my extremely confrontational personality, I'm even so aware of how much it may bother somebody that I am [usually] more than accomodating to those who bitch and moan about the smoke. But not anymore. I'm sorry all, you can blame my newfound aggression on one snarky, ugly, stick-figure cunt and her crippled friend.

Yesterday, while enjoying an afternoon of Spicy Tuna rolls and shopping, my friend Nicole and I decided to sit down for a much needed coffee break. After grabbing my coffee, I quickly grabbed the only available table left outside of the establishment. As I motioned for my lighter, I could feel someone's eyes piercing. As I pulled out a fresh cigarette, I could feel the glare intensify. And finally, as I lit the beautifully crafted cancer stick, it happened:

"Um, hello? Hi. You know, I'd really appreciate it if you could put that out. My friend here just had surgery and I don't even know what that smoke will do to him. THANKS."

Two things immediately ran through my head: Would smoke affect somebody post-surgery? I couldn't figure out how. And also, didn't the Farrah Fawcet feathered hair look go out in the 90s? I was immediately defensive by her cadence and offensive choice of dress.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I would, but my friend is inside and is coming out shortly, and we'd hate to try and find another table. I apologize."

"You vile creature."

Cunty then preceeded to talk about me (using words and phrases that would make Joy Behar blush) and attacking me to her sugar daddy elderly companion. Without hesistation, the following is exchanged:

"Look, Miss, I'm aware you haven't eaten in weeks, but that's no reason to get huffy."

"I hope you die."

"Thanks! I'll keep your opinion in mind the next time I go to the doctor."

Nicole: "Is she serious right now? She's insane."

She proceeds to move to another table, but not before cursing us just one more time. She also called me a character in a bad movie. I was extremely flattered.




I applied for a summer job at Starbucks one hour later.