Friday, January 19, 2007

1/19/2007 - Afterthoughts in the afterlife

So my interviews with Princeton in Asia went well and I think I probably got the gig. I'll either wind up in Chiang Mai, Thailand, or Penang, Malaysia (familiar to some people as the setting for that Vince Vaughn film, Return to Paradise). Anyway, if I am accepted, it will be a tough choice. Penang has amazing weather, a fabulous beach, sweet accomodation, and better pay. Chiang Mai meanwhile is a significantly more bumpin' city inundated with vespas, Muay Thai, and happy-ending massages. I'm still waiting to hear back from the JET program in Japan, though, so that might be an option as well.
After I returned to NYC, I made my way back to Yonkers for a brief interlude with cousin Greg before going out with Mike and his girlfriend for the evening (and by going out I mean that we never made it out of her 4 x 5 ft apartment except for a 35 minute roundtrip trek to a club with a cover charge well beyond our means so we turned around and left). Anyway, when I got to Greg's apartment, I found him sitting on the couch engrossed in the playoff game between the Colts and Ravens on tv. The best part is that he had a Colts' baseball cap and a Ravens' baseball cap placed on the table facing off in front of him.
"Greg...are you serious?" I began. "There's no one else around to even witness your spirit"
"Whatever Jared. Just because you wake up in the morning and no one else is around doesn't mean that you sit around naked all day. Right?"

He had a point.

Monday, January 15, 2007

1/13/2007 - NYC & Princeton

So I'm in Princeton, NJ, right now killing some time at their university library before I head in for my interview to see if I'm good enough to qualify as an international fellow. Funny, I already thought I was an international fellow being that I've been around the world a little bit. Anyway, I don't know what to make of this campus. I'll tell you one thing, it really sucks when you have to poop while traveling, because it never seems like there's an available place to go when you need one, especially on a college campus, so I always tend to search out the closest library wherever I'm at and seek refuge there. I had quite a time just getting to Princeton to New York. I almost got on the wrong subway back in the city, wasted a ticket, barely made the train out of NYC, and then didn't have time to buy a ticket before boarding a $2 shuttle to the campus and therefore had to pay an extra $5 for purchasing it after already boarding the shuttle. I stood in the pseudo-light-sun showers after deboarding the train getting my bearings for a moment and debating whether or not I was feeling intimidated being amidst an ivy league campus. Being the overcompensator that I am, I just decided to start being ultra critical of everyone I passed instead. I flew into NYC on Thursday afternoon and hung out with my cousin Greg. He's a 33 year old big kid who never really matured beyond his college goofball self, and together we went to one of the top 5 largest malls in America just outside of Yonkers. That night we watched "Fearless" with Jet Li and practiced our Chinenglish (kind of like Spanglish, except that neither of us really speak any Chinese, though Greg did study Mandarin for a bit and lived in Singapore for several years among many other countries - he truly is an international fellow). Yesterday I met up with my friend Mike who recently graduated from NYU film school and works freelancing as an erotic fiction writer for magazines such as Penthouse in addition to serving as a production assistant on various music video and other types of film shoots. I killed the rest of the afternoon at the Borders right next to Madison Square Garden perusing through a GRE study book and researching my potential trip to Puerto Rico with Emily at the end of February.

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

New Year's Eve in Chicago - The End of 2006

Max at least provided some amusement by putting a gigantic hole in the wall of the Marriott Hotel stairwell after attempting to save Emily’s friend, Jen, from taking a disastrous spill herself. Jen, the girl we stayed with during the weekend, had quite the New Year’s Eve. She got a bit too drunk and then had the genius idea to smoke hash, leaving her in a bad state puking all over Emily’s friend, Calvin’s room at the Marriott. Jen had no qualms about pulling the trigger several times in attempting to aid her puking process, and she did it with a relative ease and familiarity that sent off warning signals in the head of her friend and fellow cast-mate in the off-off-broadway show, Spellingbee. This friend, Christine, who happened to be high on hash herself, proceeded to freak out in believing that Jen was bulimic. The conversation went something as follows:
“Oh my god, Jen, you’re fucking bulimic. I can’t believe it. You’re fucking bulimic.” Christine screamed as tears soon began to follow. She was high, mad, sad, coupled with some other indiscernible emotions rolled into one ball of weirdness.
Emily chimed in while sitting on the bed watching the fiasco unfold. “She’s not bulimic, she’s just drunk. You need to chill out.”
Un-phased, Christine continued with tears streaming down her phase. “Jen, how can you do this to yourself? You’re fucking bulimic. I’m calling Kristin and telling her. This is a serious problem.”
Jen, not exactly functioning in top form, wags her finger at Christina. “It’ll be our secret.” She slurs. She obviously has no idea what’s going on.
“Christine, are you insane?” Emily asks. “She’s not bulimic. I’ve seen millions of girls do this before. Obviously you never went to college.”
It’s too late, though, as Christine has already begun leaving a message on Kristin’s voicemail with a firm resound that Jen is bulimic and this must be remembered in the morning after everyone sobers up.
We all split soon afterwards. Christine refused to leave with us and abandoned Jen to our devices in getting home. Getting back to Jen’s took forever being that it was New Year’s Eve and impossible to hail a taxi, so we were forced to take the “L” with Jen iron-clasped to Max’s arm and puking every step of the way. Happy New Year.
Oh, on an end note, there was this adorable little black pug named “Olive” that belonged to one of Jen’s roommates and constantly insisted on wedging itself between Emily and I while sleeping together at night on the world’s most narrow couch. Olive was adorable, but she smelled kind of bad and snored. Emily hasn’t stopped talking about wanting to get a French Bulldog for the last two days.