Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Karaoke Don'ts

During Senior Week, some friends and I went out to the infamous Safe House for karaoke. It’s been my lifelong dream to sing karaoke without the aid of liquid courage, and this goal was realized at the Safe House. Yep, I completely humiliated and embarrassed myself without even alcohol to blame. There were a lot of other train wrecks there (in addition to me), and some of them weren’t even people I came with. Perhaps if they had read this post first they wouldn’t have made such tone-deaf asses of themselves.

Karaoke Don'ts:

Don’t: try to show off your amazing voice. I know what you’re thinking—you came to karaoke to showcase your talent to an enraptured audience, ready to pounce on you with record deals as soon as you hit that last high note. How can your talent ever be publicized if the whole bar is singing—I mean howling—along with you? Well that’s your real problem: Karaoke is not about showing off; it’s about drunk people doing what they do best—butchering songs. If you want to whip out your Whitney Houston impersonation (c. 1993, not 2010), stick to the shower when no one else has to listen to you.


Don’t: sing a Frank Sinatra song if everyone else in the bar is a 45+-year-old woman. Especially don’t do this if you have an amazing voice.

Matt’s rendition of “Luck Be a Lady” was the stuff of dreams…cougar dreams.


Don’t: sing anything by Whitney Houston. Or for that matter, Mariah Carey, Celine Dion, or anyone else who has ever been referred to as a “diva.” Especially if you’re a man and/or fat. Here’s a good rule of thumb: if you would cringe hearing the song played at a bar, don’t sing it at karaoke, because karaoke is done AT A BAR. Since when was “My Heart Will Go On” an acceptable song in da club?


Don’t: accompany your rap-sody (see what I did there?) with a ghetto booty dance. Once you see how low you can go, I guarantee you won’t be getting back up, depending on how much you’ve had to drink. And don’t you think singing karaoke is enough humiliation for one night? There are digital cameras these days, people! And facebook!

If you’re gonna do an asinine dance, at least do it to “Aaron’s Party (Come Get It).”


Don’t: sing “Don’t Stop Believing.” If I have to hear another drunken group of idiots yelling the lyrics to that song without even attempting to follow any sort of melody, I will kill someone. Even if I’m the one singing it.


Don’t: change the lyrics of the song to make it more appropriate for your life. For instance, do not change “Hey There Delilah’s” lyric “Oh, it’s what you do to me” to “Oh, it’s what you do to Steve,” even if your name is Steve.

It looks like we’re gazing lovingly into each others’ eyes, but in fact we are making fun of the tool who decided to make The Plain White T’s his own.


Don’t: try to avoid Ke$ha just because you once wrote a blog post about how dumb her song lyrics are, especially if you secretly do a mean Ke$ha impression and you memorized all the lyrics to “Tik Tok” even before writing said blog post.

There’s my yellow wristlet, in action again!


What's your go-to karaoke song?



Sunday, May 23, 2010

I'm Movin' Out

Well, I did it. I finished up the school year, survived the week of debauchery, and managed to make it across the stage at graduation without tripping. I am officially a grown-up now, I guess. Today I moved out of my apartment and back in with the fam, thus beginning my life as an unemployed, depressed bum.


I may even take up World of Warcraft. And I may even move down to my parents’ basement instead of my childhood bedroom, because I don’t feel like my current living situation adequately reflects the extent of my patheticosity.

This is me in like a week.


I like reading blog posts about what people’s homes look like, and I have wanted to do one for a while. Well, there’s no time like now, since I am missing my apartment terribly.


Here’s my bed, with a duvet cover from Ikea and my blanky! I’m really going to miss those huge windows.


And here’s where the magic happened—my blog posts, my English papers, my facebook stalking, my ransom letter composing, and my breakfast eating. It only looked this neat and tidy once, and it was for this picture. If you look closely you can see my creepy horse head pencil. It made it through 4 years of college without ever being sharpened.


The ol’ bookshelf. You can tell this picture was taken last summer because of the GRE book. This was back when I still had delusions of grad school. You can also see my Rubik’s cube and my Einstein action figure. On the wall is my super sweet Harry Potter poster.


In case you wanted to see the goods, here’s the inside of my closet. The door wouldn’t close all the way, so I left it open permanently.


Moving on to the living room. I honestly don’t ever remember it looking this neat. I took these pictures right after we moved in a year ago, so the crap hadn’t accumulated yet. The throw pillows were made by yours truly!


See that corner with all the crap? The pile expanded slowly over the school year until it took over practically the whole room. That was the crap corner, and I think it was basically all my crap too. If you look closely on the top shelf you can see our framed picture of Gunther.


The balcony. It was the reason we wanted to live there so badly, and you can bet we didn’t get nearly enough use out of it. I want to kick myself because that’s probably the last time I’ll ever have a balcony. We mostly just used it to grill. And by “we” I mean my boyf grilled and we helped by eating.


This is the hallway. The room on the right is mine, and the kitchen’s on the end. The painting was also done by yours truly, proving that literally anyone can be an artist.


And here’s the kitchen. There is nothing special about it, really...


…except this sweet fire escape. We used it to throw our garbage out. Taking the garbage out was such a chore in the past, but at this apartment we just flung it off the ledge and right into the welcoming dumpsters that sat below.

We loved our bathroom mostly because we could learn about geography while doing our bidniz. Also, behold my monogrammed hand towel. Classy.


I didn’t take any pics of my roommate’s room because that would be creepy and oddly invasive. By the way, this is us, in case you were wondering:

Basically sums up our relaysh.

I miss my apartment so much, but I miss my roommate even more. Maybe she'll finally leave a comment on this thing...


Have you ever moved away from a place you loved?

Thursday, May 13, 2010

How Not to Write a Paper (Tales from the Writing Center)

I took my very last final exam this morning. I am now officially not a student anymore, but a mere unemployed American. Wait, tell me again why people actually celebrate graduations?? All that stands between me and graduation is my last shift at the Writing Center and a week of salacious debauchery, aka Senior Week. I was reflecting on my job as a writing tutor, trying to come up with things not to miss about it (that’s the best way to avoid crying, just keep telling yourself that college really wasn’t all that and a bag of chips—maybe Fritos, but not chips). Because we all had to write papers at some point, and some of us will continue to write them for years to come, I am going to share some of my writing center wisdom with you all. Hopefully it will help you avoid those terrible red-penned insults disguised as “constructive criticism” that teachers love to dole out, such as “I don’t know what you’re trying to say here,” “awk,” and my absolute favorite, “?”


I got “see me” once too. Not a great day for me.


1. Do not begin your paper with “The issue of sexual inequality has been debated since the dawn of man,” or “Religion and science have been at odds for thousands of years,” or “Since the beginning of time, men have been asking themselves the same question: boxers or briefs.” You were not around at the beginning/dawn of time, nor have you been around for thousands, hundreds, or even dozens of years. Ditto for eons, generations, and forever. Plus, if your paper topic is so trite that its been debated/discussed/argued/asserted/propagated/chewed up and spit out since the dinosaurs walked, what new insight could you, a measly undergrad, possibly add to the discussion?


Now he can actually write about something that’s been debated since the beginning of time.


2. Do not use the quote “with great power comes great responsibility.” I don’t care if you cite Uncle Ben from Spiderman or not, just don’t use it. It’s surprisingly overused, rarely cited correctly, and often misquoted. If you’re writing a paper about Spiderman, or the power/responsibility dichotomy, or hackneyed quotes, then by all means use it. Otherwise, as Uncle Joey would say, “Cut it out!”


Pedo-buckteeth: the pedosmile of the 90s.


3. Do not say “In this paper I would first like to talk about boxers. Then in paragraph 2 I will be moving on to briefs. In the conclusion I will move the discussion forward to man thongs and possibly the Borat swimsuit.” Just talk about the damn undapants, don’t tell us ahead of time what’s gonna happen! If you’re gonna do that you really should have first said “In this paper I will first tell you what I’m going to talk about in this paper, then I will talk about boxers…” But really you’d have to first say “In this paper I’m first going to talk about the fact that I’m going to tell you what I’m going to talk about in this paper, then I will talk about boxers…” And then your paper is infinitely recursive. Congratulations, your 15-pager wasn’t so hard after all.


When is enough gonna be enough for you?


4. Do not ask if the paper “flows.” What, exactly, does this mean, anyway? I know what flow is with regard to rivers, menstruation, floating ice, in opposition to ebb, and Progressive spokespeople, but when it comes to papers, I’m not so sure. If you’re asking if the paper is well-organized, then the answer is no, the organization sucks.


My bf loves her. Perhaps now he will associate her with PERIODS.


5. Do not verbally abuse your teacher to anyone who will listen when you get a bad grade on your crappy paper rife with plagiarism. And if you do insist on complaining to me for the entire session instead of getting some work done, then for Flo’s sake, do not admit to me at the end that you actually tried to get by with only writing one paper for two different classes. I can respect lazy, but I cannot respect stupid.


If you have to ask…



Do you guys still have to write papers? Have you ever committed any of these offenses? I admit I quoted Spiderman once in junior high!