A SERIES OF IMPORTANT QUESTIONS YOU SHOULD ANSWER
1. you have to date one of these dudes. all you know about them are their names. who would you choose? A.J., B.J., C.J., D.J., J.J., M.J., O.J., P.J., R.J., or T.J.
2. if i threw a guy named Sky into the mix, would that change anything?
3. subway or quiznos?
4. is having a sugar daddy just another form of prostitution?
5. how much money would you need to sleep with someone you are completely unattracted to. don’t say no amount, everyone has a price. it is allowed to be inordinately high, but how low would you go?
6. on a scale of 1 to 10 how would you rate your college experience (so far)?
7. on a scale of 1 to 10 how would you rate your life experience so far?
8. do you ever wish on some vague level that you could be a member of the opposite sex?
9. if you could eat one food product all the time with no consequences, what would it be?
10. what’s a dealbreaker for you if you’re in a relationship?
I recently had what I thought was a decent title for a screenplay. “Floundering.” And then I thought, I love John Cusack. He can be in it. And then we’ll banter and joke on set and talk about what a genius I am and how endearing he was in the 80s.
Apparently my idea was too good though and so it was already made in 1994. I have not seen or really even heard of this movie.
The synopsis: John Boyz is an aimless sad sack who is wandering Los Angeles in the wake of the 1992 riots. John is in an unclear state of mind; he can’t find a job (and doesn’t really want one), the IRS has confiscated his money, his girlfriend Jessica is sleeping around, he can’t figure out what the beautiful but mysterious Elle wants from him, his drug-addicted brother Jimmy needs 3,000 dollars for a detox program, and police chief Merryl Fence is encouraging the citizens of L.A. to kill themselves.
This is basically exactly what my life is today, except my boyfriend who is sleeping around is named John Boyz. I’m still Jessica, an aimless sad sack. And I don’t know how to get the money for Jimmy. I’ll figure it out, eventually.
But not really. I’m pretty sure I know what Elle wants from me. And let’s say I want the same things…
My remake will include:
- trying to find God, but realizing it’s awkward
- being hit on by old dudes who ask how old my friend and I are, then drunkenly telling us, “it was a comment,” when they really mean to say “complement”
- being pressured into buying a flavor of frozen yogurt that I didn’t want in the first place by a bunch of chatty food service employees
- going to starbucks only to discover that everyone there is sweeping the floor
- babysitting sometimes and wishing it were a full time job
- reading astrological books only to learn that I am apparently miserable and annoying because I was born in late June
- craving thai food constantly
- writing in a blog, hoping for a book deal, but knowing there is no book deal, ever.
My horoscope this week: The coming week will be prime time to perform minor miracles without trying too hard. You’ll probably have maximum success if you refrain from hoping and worrying about achieving maximum success. The cosmic currents will be likely to bend and shape themselves to accommodate your deeper needs if you proceed on the assumption that they know, better than your little ego does, what’s best for you. To get yourself in the proper frame of mind to do challenging tasks without expending strenuous effort, you might want to check out this photo spread of people practicing drunk yoga.
Drunk yoga seems like the kind of exercise I can finally be good at.
This is a fun new game I’ve invented called “Things Up Close.”
See if you can guess this week’s edition! A prize for the winner.
It’s Not Easy Being Green.
Technically, if I hadn’t been silly and graduated all early, then I would be going back to Vassar right now to write pretentious essays about obscure films. In a weird way, I miss it. And so, I improvised an essay about the most recent thing I watched on youtube. The circumstances of my life are such that I watch a lot of Sesame Street. Anyway. It doesn’t have to make sense.