Dear Pitbull and Ne-Yo,
I’ve listened to your newest song, “Time of Our Lives” numerous times and as such feel compelled to address some of your concerns.
First, I completely relate to the troubles that you describe. I too, have worked my ass off and yet still fall short of rent each month. It is a difficult economy, and especially for those of us, like yourselves, pursuing a creative field, it is common to work very hard but to fail to receive financial gains for our efforts. It’s a shame that we live in a world that doesn’t necessarily value monetary compensation for our art. In this sense I find your strife highly relatable.
However, I am concerned by the manner in which you’ve been dealing with your (again, understandable) stress. You have just enough to get up in this club? Are you sure this is the best manner in which to spend the limited income you have? I personally, am not. While I fully endorse living a well-rounded life that includes time for extracurricular activities, I am not sure that “the club” is the best use of your time and money, especially since – again – you are falling short on your rent.
To start, while I again agree in the notion of “having the time of our lives” have you considered that there are numerous free activities that are not only highly enjoyable but also spiritually and physically rejuvenating? Examples that come to the top of my head are, the beach, hiking, volunteering at a local animal shelter, etc. This is a great way to get out in the world and even give back to the community.
I also feel, that if you do have a little extra cash which you are currently spending on “the club”, that perhaps you would be wise and better off to financially invest in your own future. You seem interested in a music career, from what I can tell. You are obviously talented, so perhaps you would be better off to use your “last $20” on producing music tracks which you could upload to SoundCloud? This way you’ll have material to show people who might be interested in developing your career further, at which point you will hopefully then have enough money to “get up in da club” AND pay your rent!
I am also a little unnerved by what I might consider to be a bit of an alcohol problem. While I am certainly no prude or square myself, I have seen how drugs and alcohol can distract, interfere, and otherwise destroy the lives of young creative artists who otherwise would have a very bright future indeed. I think you’ll find that, while difficult, it is possible to overcome these addiction demons, and that the efforts are well worth the promise of your future. It might be a simple matter of drinking less, in which case you’d both save money to pay for your rent and open up some creative space in your head to really go for your true dreams. This club business honestly seems like it is a cause of the problems you are having – in which you can’t pay your rent and are struggling to make ends meet. Life doesn’t have to be such a struggle if you just channel your energy and efforts into more productive means.
Last, I am also a little concerned about your attitudes towards women. Certainly, it is no business of mine whether you are seeking a long term relationship or not. That is a personal journey and something you are of course entitled to decide for yourself. However, I am not sure that you need “da club” to meet women, and you might find a free app like Tinder helpful in connecting you with like-minded women who are not interested in pursuing love, as you say, but instead “lust”. Additionally, if a woman has just broken up with her boyfriend, I might suggest you be a little more cautious and considerate of her feelings. She is probably in a vulnerable and emotional state and so when you describe yourself as “like Rodman, ready on deck” I can’t help but express apprehension that you might be taking advantage of a troubled and lost soul. She probably needs support and compassion in this time, and so I just want to make sure you are being delicate in the manner in which you are proceeding with the situation. Of course two consenting adults have every right to “ride out”, but please consider the emotional consequences.
Otherwise, a very catchy song and you obviously show promise. I just hope this letter reaches you in time to hopefully make a positive impact and direct you towards achieving your full potential. I truly believe that one day you might be able to pay rent AND get up in da club occasionally, but all of this again probably requires balance and a reevaluation of your priorities.
Wishing you all the best,
It has come to my attention that I am now an “adult”, and as such it seems one of my responsibilities is to feed myself. This has proven to be a considerable challenge over the past few years, and so as of late I have taken it upon myself to improve my efforts and visit the “grocery store” (if you will).
I’ve performed a number of experiments in this vein, and being an intelligent young woman I have concluded that it is no longer a conducive choice to purchase bags of kale. As it turns out, I don’t really eat the kale.
However, because I theoretically value my health, it is important to me to make decisions that cater to my long term well being*. This is indeed why I got this stupid shitty bag of Cheetos®.
These particular Cheetos® suck. This bag was full of false promises. First, I was under the impression that the “puffs” aspect would provide a lighter snacking experience to again, ensure my health*. In retrospect, and after having consumed the Cheetos® first hand, I’m not so sure that this is actually the case. I was also drawn in by the word “simply”, inferring that the Cheetos® would be a fairly organic snack. Again, in hindsight, I guess they aren’t because they’re still Cheetos®. The “white cheddar” label, to me, also implied that I would be taking care of my health* by sticking to all-natural cheese flavorings. Upon opening the bag, I think they would have been more appropriately labeled “white chalk”.
Basically, they tasted like shit. The puffs part of it made it gross, the white cheddar part was also gross, and, to top it all off, after some careful analysis, I realized the health* aspect of this snack was all in the marketing and not a reflection of the actual product.
Will I be purchasing these Cheetos® again? No. Do I recommend these Cheetos® to anyone else? No. If you’re going to eat Cheetos® should you just go for the real deal, only slightly worse for you, toxic bright orange colored ones that are still shit but at least taste pretty decent when accompanied with a poisonous beverage like Diet Coke®? Yeah, probably.
*low calorie count to stay kind of skinny
It’s day seven of my attempt to write a blog post a day. So far, I’ve done it. Was I lacking inspiration this week? Sure. Were some of my posts a bit of a stretch for material? Yeah, maybe. Were others overly sappy and emotional for no reason? Hey, we all have our bad days.
I’d like to thank everyone who helped me get here today. First I’d like to thank my parents, for hopefully not using the computer very often and presumably not reading anything I do on the Internet. Remember, ignorance is bliss! I’d also like to thank many of my friends, for probably also not reading my blog. I genuinely appreciate you looking the other way when I post embarrassing / mediocre shit in an attempt to refine my skills, so your indifference means a lot to me. I couldn’t do it without you. Third, I’d like to thank the random Internet strangers and two close friends who probably did read my posts this week. I guess I couldn’t become a better me without embarrassing myself in front of you all of the time. Your appreciation and praise of my work inspires me to keep going, but is simultaneously difficult for me to internalize and accept, so, well, thanks I guess.
Most of all I’d like to thank the love of my life. The wind beneath my wings, my baby boo, Rita Roo.
Rita, your continual presence and support in my life is something I do not take for granted. You are there by my side all the time, toughing out the rough times of trying to come up with some shitty blog posts and lightening the mood by being adorable. Words can’t express how much you mean to me. We’ve been through a lot together, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather sleep the entire day away with. You never even bark. You are just too awesome. Even though sometimes I feel lost in your shadow, because you are the best dog in the entire world and it’s hard to beat that, I am still awed by your greatness – you inspire me to try and be a better human.
#6 – A Review of the New TMNT Movie Based On Having Not Seen It But I Mean Come On This Is A Pile of Shit
This is a review of the new TMNT Movie based on my not having seen it personally but, I mean, realistically, I don’t need to see more than this to know that this movie is a big ol’ steaming pile of crapola. In fact, I’m probably insulting your intelligence right now by even bothering to explain the situation. You have eyes. We can all see this abomination for what it is.
I am pretty sure there are dementors rampant in Hollywood, as is evidenced from the fact that the public is literally having their souls SUCKED FROM THEIR BODIES with garbage like this.
“Hey,” a bunch of jackasses wearing business casual and pretentious sunglasses at an overpriced shitty bar like Pink Taco in Century City said to themselves. “We have a great idea. Remember the beloved classic Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? What a great franchise. How about instead of carrying on and honoring TMNT by following in its footsteps and creating a new, original, inspiring set of animal-like action heros based on a wacky and goofy premise, we’ll just rip off and ruin it by completely eliminating any charm or heart it used to have, giving the script to a fucking monkey to write, throwing lots of money at it for no reason, and slapping the worst possible CGI renditions on top of the package just to give the finished product the feeling that you’re really just subliminally watching us jerk off to how much money we’ll make off this bastardization.”
The worst part is in this one trailer, not sure if it’s the one I linked to (who cares), but anyway, Michelangelo DROPS SOMETHING and says, I shit you not, “Uh, I MEANT TO DO THAT.”
“I MEANT TO DO THAT!?!” A five year old could write better, more compelling, interesting Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle fan fiction than whoever barfed up this mess to waste our time with. I am serious. A small child who has no life experience would be infinitely more inspiring than Michael Bay. He should have to go to jail for this, it definitely qualifies as murder.
Right now I am poor and procrastinating, and as is my tendency I am actively ignoring the pressing realities of life in favor of pretending that real world concerns don’t exist. Unfortunately, they do. Some of these practicalities include: not going into debt, getting a “real” job?, etc.
I’ve also been living and breathing this one project that is very important to me for the past six months, to the extent that it’s been hard to see the forest from the trees.
I don’t think I even know how to be a normal, real, functioning, contributing member of society anymore. Plus, as I said, I’m really poor, probably because I spend a lot of money but also do not make any. So it’s really just a matter of time before I become completely homeless.
Weirdly, I’m not too worried about it. Being homeless is going to be stressful, sure. I’m going to have to make some compromises. But first of all, let’s be realistic. I’m not gonna be homeless, homeless. I’m a girl. Girls don’t get like, sleeping-on-the-sidewalk homeless usually. We’re kind of like a high class of homeless… Like living-out-of-a-car homeless.
Plus, after I have to sell all my belongings and trade in my prius I’d probably be able to get like, a nice mini van or something, so I’d still have some space to lie down, etc.
The other good news, I’ve realized, is that part of the reason I am about to go completely bankrupt is because I spent a good chunk of money on a DELUXE DISNEYLAND PASS which, let me tell you, I do not need at all and conceivably might never get a chance to use again.
The other reason I’m going to be eating literal garbage in a few weeks is because I spend, mmm, ALL OF THE REST OF MY MONEY on books. I buy a lot of books. So many books that I probably don’t actually need because I have so many books I can’t get to them all quickly enough.
But, I remember one time this homeless guy asked me for a cup of coffee. I went to go buy him one and when I got back someone else had already gotten him one. I guess the point is, I feel like people are generous if you are desperate and charming. That guy had two more cups of coffee than I do, FOR FREE.
So I guess when I started thinking about it, I felt okay about everything. Sure, I could potentially blow an amazing opportunity by never coming up with anything good enough and also never address the aforementioned “real world realities” (“money to pay for things”) and end up completely destitute…
But in that scenario I’d still be living at Disneyland and having enough time at night to read all these books I’ve been wanting to get to, drinking coffee, and that sounds even better, to be honest.
I have always been a weirdo, but when I was younger I’d try to hide this fact as much as possible, which just made things worse.
Of course, my weirdness could not be contained, so sometimes it’d reveal itself in overt ways, like the fact that anyone I was friends with in high school called me “Kaisa”.
The origins of this nickname are pretty dorky. I was obsessed with “The Golden Compass” when I was 13 and told my friend Julie that I thought it’d be cool if I could change my name to “Kaisa”, after one of the daemons in the book. Julie, being inarguably cooler than me, agreed to this idea and introduced me to pretty much everyone I knew as “Kaisa”. Pretty quickly it got to the point where “Kaisa” actually felt like my name.
I was proud of the nickname. I always thought Jessica was boring and there was something special about my friends who called me “Kaisa”. It made me feel like they knew the “real” me.
When I got to college I considered my options. I could be “reasonable” and just introduce myself to people as Jessica, because technically that’s true. But I felt remiss to let go of the comfort of that nickname – the one that made me feel more like my true self. So I started introducing myself as “Kaisa” at Vassar, and because it’s such a pro-weirdo school anyway the name took off and I think everyone on campus knew me as “Kaisa”. I’d even go by that name in classes.
It was at that point that I thought maybe I had hit on something. Like I could be “Kaisa” for the rest of my life, and then I’d be unique or something.
Things got weird for me when I started to enter the internship world. I experimented and at an MTV internship decided to go by “Kaisa”. This raised a lot of questions when I was filling out my paperwork. “Wait, your name is Jessica? Where does Kaisa come from? How do you say it?” I could tell people felt uncomfortable and awkward saying it.
It started to feel like too much to explain. Something felt inorganic about fabricating my name over and over again. It was one thing when I was organically introduced in high school as “Kaisa” amongst close friends, and it was even fine for trying to reinvent myself at college, but it became another, weirder, way more awkward thing to try to carry it on for the rest of my life.
I weirdly felt relieved when I went back to being “Jessica”. Maybe it was nice to not want to be a different person for a change and to be comfortable enough to just be myself.
I do have a few very close friends who only ever knew me as “Kaisa” and they still call me that to this day. For all the weird things I’ve done to find myself (including a brief lesbian phase in which I looked like a little boy) I think being “Kaisa” for a while was one of the best because that nickname grounds me in my past. It’s nice to have friends who have been through it all with you and to feel like they really know you because they refer to you by a name that, no matter how far you’ve come, you can still respond to as if no time has passed at all.
I’m not gonna play nice anymore. Dogs that bark when you’re walking by their fence need to GET THE FUCK OVER THEMSELVES!!!
I’m going to give these dogs the benefit of the doubt and assume that they’re not that stupid. I love dogs in general, partly because I think they’re pretty perceptive. So you’d think these dogs would have gotten the hint by now that this is just the way things work around here. All dogs go on walks. Sometimes you’re walking by our fence, sometimes we’re gonna be walking by your fence. It’s just simple physics.
Obviously when I am walking by a fence, I don’t give a shit about your fence. The same goes doubly so for my dog. So I seriously wish these dogs would drop their machismo bullshit and chill out and go do something more productive and less obnoxious with their time, like… daydream about chasing squirrels and eat a bone. No one cares about your property, at all. You live in a super janky yard anyway stop acting I care.
I thought of this because today Rita and I walked by a dog that was super chill and totally didn’t make a fuss when we walked by, he just did his own thing. More dogs should be like that guy.