Ahmusings

The 98% humorous musings of M. Lizabeth Currain

Tag: Hipsters

August 8, 2011

Moving?

Maybe? I’m almost 98% sure at this point that I might move out of my apartment. Decisions like these need to be made carefully and with a lot of thought. This is pretty much all I’ve been thinking about for the past few days.

Currently I live by myself. I’ve been in this apartment for almost two years; a record for me, considering that I’ve been in eight apartments in the last five years. To be fair, at least three of those were sublets while I looked for a more permanent residence. I happened upon this apartment via the magical Craigslist. The price was right at the time. Well, what I mean by the price was right, is that I was able to live paycheck-to-paycheck. Able to just get by. After almost a year of living here, I quit my job to go to grad school. I worked part-time my second semester and was able to save enough to only have to work part-time this summer. Oh, student loans; they are so wonderful until you realize you are going to have to pay them back. Now that I’m heading into the last year of grad school, I’m thinking about my future. Jobs aren’t guaranteed once one graduates and it would be nice to have a cushion while looking for a full-time job.

Now the opportunity has come up to live with a friend of mine. The room is basically about the same size as my current apartment and almost half the price. It’s a couple blocks from the park, the distance to the train is the same, and the commute is the same as well. Also, her front door doesn’t open up directly into her stove; mine does. My fridge is also in my living room. But when you’ve been living by yourself for two years, you are hesitant to give up that freedom/space for fear that you might never be able to get it back.

The pros for moving definitely outweigh the cons. I’d be saving a lot of money and maybe a change of scenery would do me good. I am sad that I wouldn’t get to say I live in Bed-Stuy anymore. There goes some of my street cred! I just hate moving in general. Having to pack up all of my shit. I’ve definitely pared down a lot of my belongings. I still have a lot of craft/sewing supplies leftover from my fashion days. Maybe in a new space I could get back into crafty stuff. Maybe I’m hoping a move will make my life better?  I really like my current neighborhood, but I seriously dislike all the dumpster diving, porkpie hat wearing, hipsters I see moving into it. They were eventually going to price me out of this neighborhood anyways. I may as well get out while the getting is good!

I think I have had two signs that point to yes in regards to moving out. Yesterday, the shelf and attached hanging bar fell out of the wall of my only closet. Then today, the power went out when I was blow drying my hair for no reason, since I had to wait around for someone to come flick a switch in the basement to turn it back on. The closet breaking though, that was, just, yeah. Also my fridge sucks. I’ve made some good memories in this apartment. Maybe it’s time to go make some memories someplace else that’s cheaper.

My brother and I also came up with a way for me to get my ABC Family movie made. I would just take that whole “365 days” blog idea and use it to blog about finding a guy to date and be able to move in with. Then I end up falling and love! It definitely has that ABC Family made-for-tv-movie quality to it. If I can’t play myself, I would like Raven-Symoné to portray me. Yes. Raven-Symoné. Do any of you have a problem with that? Also, if anyone from ABC Family is reading this and steals this idea, I WILL SUE YOU!

I leave everyone with this little bit of wisdom that I text messaged my brother earlier in regards to my mom being worried that I will be unhappy if I move: I’m unhappy wherever I am, I might as well be paying less to be unhappy!

Really though…happy as a clam. All the time. Ugh, I totally don’t want to go to work tomorrow.

1 Comment
March 27, 2011

I like torturing myself.

I’m back my lovelies! Sorry for leaving you all in a lurch with nothing to talk about the past couple of Monday mornings. But with all the dates with awesome guys I’ve been going on, it’s been hard to find the time to blog. My social calender has really filled up. I’ve been going to concerts in basements, helping brew beer, biking all over Brooklyn, cooking really complicated meals and discussing non-fiction works with some of the most interesting people the past few weeks! I had no idea I would get so caught up in the magic of online dating that I wouldn’t have time for much else. There’s just so many different guys, who are all into different things, with absolutely nothing in common with each other–it’s really amazing.

I’m lying. I was out of town the weekend before last and then last weekend, I just didn’t feel like hashing out the gory details of the week, mainly because there were none. That being said, I know that the last time I wrote, I mentioned I was going to delete my OkCupid account in a week. I haven’t deleted it yet. Reason being, I am glutton for punishment. I love seeing what kind of human messes are going to message me and also what kind of waste the 25 miles surrounding my zip code has to offer me. And let me tell you, things ain’t looking good. For anyone.

First of all, I seriously think that OkCupid is trying to match me with like the most ugly, inane people. I don’t get it. They have this thing called “Quiver”, where they pick three matches for you, that they think you will like. It’s an apt term, considering the majority of the time, I just want to shoot arrows at their god awful profiles. I have not once, liked any of the matches they have chosen for me. My reject list is getting super long. I can’t help it. I have high standards that are unwavering at this point. With good reason–I am amazing.

All of the profiles for idiots men, ages 25-34 all contain pretty much the same information. I have come across the sentence “I am a Mad Men” in reference to working in advertising, too many times to count. WHO SAYS THAT? When would a person ever think that that is an acceptable thing to say? It’s not. It sounds idiotic. Also, pretty much every guy in New York is a photographer, artist, writer, musician, butcher, baker, candlestick maker. It’s getting pretty old. I mean, I have nothing against those things. I’m all for the arts. I would love if someone paid me money to write shitty things about people. However, it just comes across like it’s something they knew they should put in a profile to attract dumbshit hipsters girls. And I am no dumbshit.

And the messages. Rarely do I send anyone a message on OkCupid. I’m usually to busy trying to unroll my eyes from the back of my head to message someone. I also rarely respond. Sometimes there is just nothing to respond to, because the message will just be one word, “howdy.” How am I supposed to respond to that? Why would I want to respond to that? If you can’t even compose a sentence introducing yourself, it doesn’t make for a promising case. I also get easily irritated when they use “ur”. Mainly because they are using it wrong. Example taken from an actual message: ur movie preferences had me me like “wha wha whaaaat?”. Translated from “internet/text speak” that would be, “you are movie preferences”, which doesn’t make any sense and makes you seem lazy. It’s “your”, how do people not know this? Also when things are misspelled. LIKE MY NAME. I get it. I spell my name a little differently than most people are used to. I’ve gotten used to it being mispronounced and misspelled. However, I have one major pet peeve when it comes to misspelling my name. It’s when people spell it incorrectly when the spelling is RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM. Here is a message from an OkC Jackal that I decided to respond to, because a) he was ugly and I could give a shit, b) he was obviously an idiot, and c) I think he was from like Staten Island or something.

OkC Jackal: yaaaayy. the meghan show. need a netflix buddy? ;-I

Me: It’s funny that in your profile, under the things that you are good at portion, it says, “paying close attention.” Considering, that my name is clearly spelled out in my screen name, and you can’t even get that right, you might need to make some revisions to that section.

OkC Jackal: that’s the best you can come up with? my spelling?….wow, no wonder you’re alone.

Me: Yes. The spelling of my name. Sorry if I happen to like it spelled correctly. And if my option is to be alone or be with idiots, I’ll take being alone.

It reads like Shakespeare doesn’t it? Then I blocked him. And yes, I am alone because I demand that my name be spelled correctly. I am forever doomed to a life of solitude for requesting such a horrific thing. I know my standards are high, but damn OkCupid, my bar would only have to set a couple of inches off of the ground!

Sometimes I contemplate making a fake profile with a whole bunch of cliched hipster information and a Photoshopped picture and see what kind of dudes hit me up. Right now I seem to be attracting some weird basement dwellers with Asperger’s…and not the good kind that look like Hugh Dancy.

With all that being said…I do have an OkCupid date lined up for Tuesday. His profile didn’t make me what to vomit and he could at least string together a coherent sentence. So, with any luck, I won’t be murdered and I will be able to share all the horrific details with you next Sunday! Or maybe earlier if it is especially painful. Wish me luck! Or don’t, I’m not sure it really matters.

5 Comments
February 20, 2010

Trainmance

Trainmance is a portmaneau for “train” and “romance”…it hasn’t really caught on yet, except for a couple of friends that I use it with, so right now it’s a protologism. Which according to Wikipedia is:

“A protologism is a new word created in the hope that it will become accepted. A protologism may be no more than suggestion of a word that might be used…The term protologism…was coined by Mikhail Epstein in 2003.“

My blog just got really smart for a second. I sort of attach “mance” a lot of other words, so long as those words are places where there is a potential to meet someone. Par example: planemance, linemance, barmance, storemance. I think you get the point. If there a two things that I am always on the lookout for it, it’s a trainmance or a storemance.

I was once on a flight from Seattle to New York–that had been delayed, natch–so there was plenty of time for the people who were waiting around in the terminal to make love connections. Of course, I was not one of those people. I just had to sit next to a planemance couple on 6 hour flight and they were awful. The boy looked like a weird version of John Travolta in his glory days and the girl looked like she had just stepped off of the “Rock of Love“ tour bus. I was trying to read, and they tried engaging me in conversation about my book. Trust me when I say, that the look on my face was nowhere near what anyone would call inviting.

Bish...pleeeeze.

They drank the whole flight and were holding hands and snuggling as best as one can on a plane (I wouldn’t know!). I pretty sure that if they had been smart enough to find a way to boink each other in the bathroom, they would have done it. Well, about 30 minutes before landing, there was really bad turbulence, and I was like, “whatevs” because I’ve been on flights where the wing of the plane was struck by lightening and I survived…but this girl was cuddling up to her planemance, all scared. I almost threw up, and not from the turbulence. So when we landed, she looks at this boy and she goes, “Weren’t you scared? It was so scary!” and he goes, “I was, but I didn’t want to show it, because I didn’t want you to get more scared.” Literally. I couldn’t even make that up if I wanted to. Then they walked off hand-in-hand into the sunset to baggage claim. For the sake of humanity, I hope their “relationship” ended outside of the airport.

So, on my way home from work this evening, the train was crowded as usual, and I was holding on to one of the center poles along with four other people. I was minding my own bidness, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see this kid singing along to his iPod(I literally just typed “eyePod”). He looks a little something like this:

 

He has got to be one of the worst people ever.

But with a hat, scarf, and headphones…

I'm not good enough at photoshop to 'shop in a winter coat.

Now, this kid was really going full force with his sing along. He was even dancing. Which looked a little something like this:

Now, I’m not one of those people that can ignore what is going on around me. Especially when it is as something as glorious as some kid going full force Britney’s Dance Beat on the train. Luckily, I was not alone in this. As I was watching this kid, I heard a boyish chuckle come from the guy next to me. We looked at each other. And we had a moment. Because we knew we were witnessing something special. We laughed together, at the absurdity of what we were watching. We were the only two people watching this! It was hard to miss folks; believe me. He was doing everything except dropping down to get his eagle on.

(and yes, I watched this video in it’s entirety.)

We talked about his dance moves and how we’ll never reach that level of skill. Then the train stopped. And they both got of the train…the entertainment and my trainmance. He said goodbye. I smiled. He was cute. Sort of bookish, but tall. And obviously with it enough to know that that dancing fool was a gem.

It’s one of those things where you hear about people who have met each other on a train, or something like that, and you wonder how it’s possible. Because I make eyes at pretty much every attractive guy on the train and nothing seems to work! I kid…sort of. There has got to be a way to meet people, organically. How does it happen?!

If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll post a missed connection about this tonight!

**Hipster picture Courtesy of Look at that Fucking Hipser

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