Piece of Shit #16

Getting old is a long, scary road.

I had originally planned to spend my first 4th of July in Missouri in over 7 years this year. However when we began to discuss the family event that was supposed to take place that holiday weekend, life got in the way. This weekend (July 3rd) my grandparents will celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary and they will celebrate it by spending their first night in an assisted living community. Both of their healths have been on the decline for several years now and their have been numerous discussions by the family about them giving up the home in which they built and have resided in for over 55 years, to move into a facility where they could receive specialized attention and constant care. Naturally those conversations ended in protest from the matriarch and patriarch of my mother's family who just weren't ready to accept that their final shred of independence had faded.

My grandmother is severally diabetic and no longer has her vision. She also no longer posses the ability to stand or sit by herself. She has no strength in her legs to carry her own weight anymore. My grandfather who spent his life pouring concrete and towering over everyone at 6" was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few years ago. So for the past few years my ailing grandfather has been placing my immobile grandmother in a chair in their living room every morning, where she sits until she must be moved for trips to the bathroom and ultimately to bed at the end of the day. Despite his ailment he still insisted on driving and was allowed to do so until a few weeks ago when he collapsed in the front yard of their Bourbon, Missouri home. He was legally no longer allowed to drive by the insistence of his doctor. My grandparents became prisoners in their own home. This left them with no choice but to give in to the requests of my mother and uncles.

So this weekend, which was originally set aside to celebrate their 60 years of tumultuous marriage, will be spent with my grandparents voluntarily greeting the last phase of their lives. And even though their marriage has been far from a fairy tale or even a happy one, I have to think that despite the years of bickering, yelling, and shear meanness toward one another, there is comfort in knowing they don't have to greet that last phase alone. I only hope I can be so lucky when that day comes for me.

Piece of Shit #15

Lucky Magazine is a vag tease.

It's true. Every month Lucky magazine has a section called "Lucky Breaks" where you can enter online to win items featured in the magazine. I started getting Lucky about six months ago and have been entering every month for almost every item. C'mon. I'm in the arts so the day when I can spend $300 on shoes or makeup are in the very distant future but should I be so lucky as to win them via "Lucky" I'd be more than happy to sport them around New York City. So I enter for about 30 items each month and each month there is a small blurp about the previous month's winners and how excited they are to win $500 worth of Stila products, etc. and often those winners mention that it's their 3rd+ win. This irks me. If I'm entering every month like clockwork, how can some women win multiple times? I find this unfair and I was starting to resent Lucky magazine and their "Lucky Breaks" until I got an email on Mon. telling me I was an alternate winner for a pair of Corso Como sandals. Now, truthfully I have no idea what Corso Como sandals are, but after some research they retail for about $130 so I would be more than happy to accept them. However the email stated I needed to be one of the first 19 to reply to the email to "officially" win the shoes. I happen to be in a movie that afternoon; appropriately watching Sex and The City 2 (which I really don't care to discuss and that in it's self is quite sad). So I responded to the email 4 hours later. I haven't heard anything back so I'm assuming my victory over the Corso Como sandals was short-lived. But thank you Lucky magazine for getting my hopes up and failing to deliver...just one more vag tease to deal with.

Piece of Shit #14

Summa, summa, summatime...ooooo Summatime.

Today is the Summer Solstice, the official start to summer. This might be why I'm in such a good mood today. Growing up with two teachers as parents summer was much more than sleeping in and playing all day. It was the beginning and end of our family's year. It wasn't until I got older that I realized not all parents got 3 months off to swim, camp, BBQ, and travel. Summer was everything at 603 W. Columbia St. For the Pinkstons summer really was a Country Time Lemonade ad...and I loved every minute of it. Despite the fact that now summer doesn't mean freedom from work or responsibilities like I once thought it did, there is still a taste of escape that will always get me excited. And even if it's doesn't happen. Even if I can't take fun vacations, or get to a beach, or lay by a pool, summer will represent a little less clothing and a little lighter baggage. It will mean flirting a little more. It'll mean drinking a little more. It will mean being naked a little more. And it will mean just feeling good a little bit more. Happy Summer All!

Piece of Shit #13

I'm really a giant pussy.

I hate to admit it and maybe it's because I'm a New Yorker at heart or because I just can't stand to hear people whine, but I'm a huge wuss. I can't stomach blood, gratuitous violence or even hardcore drug use. It all makes me hide my eyes and cringe. Last night I started watching "The Wire" after hearing countless accusations that it may top "The West Wing" as the greatest show written for television. I'm not ready to throw down with that argument since I'm only a couple of episodes in. I did notice however, that the shots of heroin use had me flinching and averting my eyes. This is an HBO series so I'm sure it's no "Trainspotting" or "Requiem for a Dream" but it reminded me of how stupidly sensitive I am to that stuff. Why am I this way? I honestly have no idea. I'm not overly girly in real life. I have no problems getting my hands dirty...in fact I like it a lot of the times. But for some reason I just can't handle seeing pain on other people, real or fictional. I wish a had a stronger stomach to go with my steel exterior. He,he...

Piece of Shit #12

Change is good shit.

I'm currently planning and saving for my next tattoo(s). For anyone who has known me longer than 2 years you'd find this shocking considering I once swore that I would never get a tattoo and even after I finally did in 2008 I kept swearing I would never get another one. I used to be very openly and adamantly opposed to tattoos and I think it was because of all the impulsive and seemingly meaningless ones many people got in their late teens/early 20s. It also always irked me that people thought they could be defined by some sort of symbol, etc for their entire life. I never thought anything would mean the same thing to a person throughout their complete existence. In addition I always found the naked natural body quite a marvel. But within the last few years I've started to view them differently. I had never found them attractive before on either men or women and now there is a definite sex appeal to them. I also started to realize that something permanent and constant could in fact represent change. This irony definitely appealed to me. So despite the fact that my tattoo is private and I've never revealed to anyone what it actually is or means, I can admit that it represents that change can be a liberating and good thing. And that same change can also be comfort that some things are permanent.

Piece of Shit #11

Today was a good day...

Yep. That's it really. Today has been a good day and I have no doubts that this weekend will be a good one as well. I'm pretty sure I will look like this the whole time...

Piece of Shit #10

28 is great...

For the past few years I have snickered about the fact that most of my friends were younger than me and those my age where married and/or making babies. However as I've solidified a place in my late 20's I grow more and more grateful that I'm not 21,22, 23, or 24 anymore. And personally I think the ladies in the same age box as me have got something on the box below us. Despite a misconception that girls in their early 20's are here for the party, women in their late 20's are too. The difference is we are typically throwing it and it doesn't come in cans or with early morning regret. So sure, that 22 year old hottie looks like fun but I promise you that the sexy 29 year old eyeing you at the bar can teach you a few things she can't. And that my friends, is some goooood shit.

Piece of Shit #9

It's all about me...I guess.

It's true, your 20s are supposed to be a decade of self-exploration and socially accepted selfishness. For the most part this has characterized the last 8 years of my life and truthfully could probably still define my daily existence now. However as I round the bend to 30 in the next year and a half I cant fathom approaching a place where it starts to be about somebody or something else. I'm not sure how to feel about that and I could be making an inaccurate assumption but where is that wash of a feeling that tells you it's time to make things about something else, that it's time to think differently? Maybe it's living in New York, a place that attracts self-motivation and large personal ambitions, but I don't see most people in their late 20's looking for something outside of themselves or even hinting that they might slowly start to peek around. In fact I see more and more people older than me pushing that transition further and further back. And from where I stand right now I'm relieved because I too am not ready to cross that bridge; but if we keep pushing it back and keep pushing it back, do we risk missing that opportunity all together? I wish I had this answer and true I wish I had a lot of answers but for the moment I'll just have to wonder about this piece of shit.

Piece of Shit #8

I'm in love...

It's true it happens from time to time. I find a comedian or performer that I go GA GA over and it has occurred once again. In April a friend took me to the Knitting Factory in Brooklyn to see his friend and comic do a short set. I'm usually the wrong person to take to comedy shows if you are trying to impress me. I'm a harsh critic when it comes to funny talent. Not that I honestly have any right to be but the few years in the industry has made me quite picky. So naturally I was mildly impressed with this particular performer, however a couple sets after his the tide took a drastic turn. The sea parted and in a haze with REO Speedwagon's "Dreamweaver" playing in the background Reggie Watts took the stage. The man left me speechless in the same gut-wrenching way Mitch Hedberg and old school Bill Cosby once did. He defies standard forms of stand-up and simply put, just gets on stage and creates some mind-blowing shit. This man is on to something that comedy hasn't seen in a looonnnggg time. Enjoy the video but don't try it at home...it's way messier than you would think.

Piece of Shit #7

The Goonies are 25!

25 years ago this past weekend The Goonies entered our lives, well those of us alive in June 1985... For those of us discovering life in the Reagan Era Mikey, Brand, Mouth, Data, Andy, Stef, Chunk, The Fratellis and of course, Sloth made Astoria, Oregon and the idea of pirate ships forever something of a wonderful fantasy.

I've been a devout Goonies fan since my father used to go to the local video store every Friday night to rent the newest releases and then illegally make copies of them with his personal VHS camcorder. "The Goonies" was one of the first movies I could watch whenever I pleased and this liberating memory is one I will always cherish. Despite the fact that the film speaks to anyone who carries a sense of youthful adventure and curiosity, it has endured in pop culture because of it's fun-filled storyline and spot on dialogue. Over the past 25 years "The Goonies" has proved nothing if not timeless. And maybe this movie will always have a special place in the heart of my peers because it's taught our generation a priceless lesson. "It's our time. Down here it's our time." I believe that it still is and I just don't think we are ready to ride up Troy's bucket yet.

Piece of Shit #6

I'm not a "Bitter Brenda"...today.

A friend mentioned yesterday that my blog seemed to be just me complaining. So this morning I wanted to clarify that that was never my intention. In fact I'm quite a chipper person. I'm also a romantic which I make no secret about. Maybe because I'm a water sign or maybe because there wasn't much to watch growing up in Missouri other than sappy or funny movies, but I ended up being a lover of love and laughter. And whenever I can find the two combined, my heart melts a little. Just a moment ago I found such a thing. I laughed and teared a little...and I'm not ashamed, dammit.

Piece of Shit #5

Jonah Hill could never be a woman...

And this makes me sad. Jonah Hill, Seth Rogan, Michael Cera, and the rest of the Apatow entourage would not have careers if they were women plain and simple. Despite the fact that women are more prominent in every industry today than ever before, we've still yet to be able to successfully crack into the "blue" comedy market. We've yet to establish a serious presence in the land of crotch jokes and stoner humor. Sure we've made strides with the likes of Janeane Garofalo and Sarah Silverman, but the early 20's frat house market we've yet to really break into. Why is this? The unfortunate truth is that socially, we just aren't ready to accept women as anything less than womanly. We aren't ready to stomach jokes about periods, un-firm jiggly parts, or even vaginal discharge. See...the last one got you cringing. Although we get a solid kick out of hearing jokes about mushroom stamps, limp dicks, and t-bagging. It is the truth...and personally, I think it's shit.

Piece of Shit #4

Men are fucking crazy too...

The age old adage is that women are crazy. I'm not here to dispute that. In fact I could probably supply the prosecution with some damning evidence in that case. But for the moment I'm more concerned with the other charge that men are just as crazy as women. I've known sanity and insanity in my young life and have seen both exist equally in women and men. But lately I have been disappointed that crazy seems to be running rampant in men who have passed the expected phase of their early-mid 20's. There is some social forgiveness for the guy who is over-bearing, overly jealous, and extremely irrational between the ages of 19 and 26. However when 30 and 40 hits and a man is retaining the same behavior he sported a decade or two prior, something is wrong. I realize my generation has been allowed to postpone growing up longer than any generation previously. Regardless there is no excuse for a 30 year old man to snicker, roll his eyes, hang up a phone, or give you the silent treatment because something didn't go his way. Seriously guys...acting like a pissed off 9 year old really turns me on. Take your hands off the bomb and grow some man parts Gentlemen.

Piece of Shit #3

I do not belong in the mid-west. True I was born there on a cold snowy February night in 198..something, but I can't really remember ever belonging there. I have never wanted to own a mini van. I have never enjoyed wearing over sized men's t-shirts. I can definitely enjoy Hamburger Helper but have never classified it as "cooking". I've never been crazy about buying in bulk. I've never been on the Jesus bandwagon. I've never looked good in a haircut that could be compared to a helmut. I've never been happy with just existing, without question.

However, depsite the fact that it takes very little time back in the mid-west or around Mid-Westerners to be reminded of this, age and maturity has made me grateful for what it has taught me. Namely how to make some kick-ass fried chicken and enjoy cheap beer...So thank you Budweiser and Crisco. Thank you.

Piece of Shit #2

John Mayer is a douchebag...

It's true. In fact it may have been true since the day the man was born. Don't get me wrong, the man is pleasing to look at and let's not lie, I'd probably still hit that but I'd want him to leave immediately after. I'd want him to leave before he opened his mouth in another lame attempt to convince me and the rest of the fertile female population that he is some sort of a poetically tortured artist. If you change the tone and timber of your voice to sing you are trying way too hard. If you cover yourself in tattoos and then pen a song with lyrics that state "father's be good to your daughters", you are in fact not the anarchist rebel you'd like to be perceived as. If your neutral expression looks like a dramatic sigh, you're a piece of shit...and a fitting entry to this blog.

Piece of Shit #1

I don't know crap about the internet. I graduated undergrad from a major university in 2004 and somehow managed to avoid ever really mastering the world wide web. I have had an email account since 1997, but I seem to be years behind my peers in figuring out how to maintain an existance or even better a career via the internet. I would like to do these things. I'd like to get paid for being funny online and not just on paper or doing improv in some LES sketchy joint. I'd also like to ride an elephant but today, I'm taking one step at a time. So here it goes...the shit I know.