Friday, May 27, 2011


Scene: 3 young hipster wannabes sit upstairs in a coffee shop. A jock is in the corner. His presence creates an uncomfortable tension. Mesh shorts and Powerade? Really? Nobody knows why he is there. Summer school, probably. It is clear he has read no Foucault in the recent months.

An elderly man walks up the stairs. He surveys the room and sees that he does not belong. He trudges over to the corner, sits down, and unwraps his turkey sandwich on wheat. The hipster wannabes decide this is okay. After all, ageism is not trendy.

A woman walks up the stairs with clacky heels. The hipsters are appalled. "Did she not see the sign?!? -- "handmade moccasins ONLY?!?" The woman is oblivious to any of the rules. She enters into the dead silence and shouts across the room to the elderly man.

Clacky heel woman: "FOR THE RECORD, I'M NOT LATE! Geoffrey, you know, my little dachshund, Geoffrey?? Well, we were just at the vet. Can you believe he's 12 pounds overweight? He never eats ANYTHING!"

Elderly man: (boisterous, insincere laughter)

Clacky heel woman: "Oh my, it's completely silent in here! Oh good! That means I can talk as loudly as I want and no one will care! Would you like to hear the funniest story about the bath I took last night?! Hahahaha, Geoffrey climbed right up into the tub!"

Hipster girl wearing brightly patterned dress: (begins directing passive-aggressive glances at the oblivious couple)

Hipster boy with floppy hair and a poetry anthology: (begins directing passive-aggressive glances at the oblivious couple)

Jock: (Oblivious; continues work on laptop)

Clacky heel woman: "WELL LET'S GET STARTED. I have such a great plan for selling cupcakes to dogs! Healthy cupcakes, mind you! OBESE DOGS ARE VERY SUSCEPTIBLE TO DEPRESSION. Geoffrey has been on Prozac for 10 months now, and I can tell that he is still morose!"

Hipster Girl: (increased passive-aggressive glances, coupled with drawn-out sighs)

Hipster Boy: (increased passive-aggressive glances, coupled with a showy exit to express his exasperation)


Elderly man: "HAHA! HAHA! We're the only ones talking! Our ideas are so good! I bet everyone loves listening to them! I am so wise! These young hipsters must think I am so wise!"

The hipsters are disgusted. Unable to control the obtrusive man and woman, they insert their earbuds into their Macbooks and begin loudly listening to Sigur Ros. They will later write witty stories about this in their moleskine notebooks and then transfer them to their tumblr. Life is pain.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Dear perfectionism,

I thoroughly loathe you. I want to cut off your appendages and eat them while you watch me and weep. I want to destroy you. I hate you I hate you I hate you.

You are an evil lover. You seduce me with your sweet success, and then you beat me late into the night. I want to murder you. My hate for you is so strong.

You know, though, that I will come back to you. You know that even as I write this, I won't leave you. I will return to you. I will always return.

But I hate you. I so throughly hate you.

Monday, May 2, 2011

"A Letter from my Professor"

Hi Sara,

This is Professor ______. I was just writing to tell you that you don't have to write your final paper for me!

For the last two months, you've had that "I-don't-give-a-shit" look on your face, and I totally understand because, let's face it, I don't give a shit either.

Although you almost never spoke in class, I could just really tell that you are brilliant, and so I am giving you an A. I'd also like to break down the walls of our student-teacher relationship--would you like to hang out sometime? Maybe go dress shopping and grab some drinks?

Hell, since you don't have to write your final paper, are you free tonight? I just find you to be a fascinating person, and I would be so honored to keep company with you.

Eagerly anticipating our friendship,
Professor ______