Oh hey... we've met before, right?

I’ve been absent. I apologize. Lets get back to it.

On August 29^th, 2010, my year of adventures came to a close. It didn’t close like a dictionary closes—THUD—or like a cabinet door closes—sqeeeaaaaaakkkkk SLAM. It didn’t even close like the trunk of a car- TCHACK! Instead it thwicked closed gently and nearly silently, like the partitions of a revolving door. When I swooped back around the doors I emerged in the heart of Manhattan. How the hell did I get here?

My introduction to New York City started with a Lincoln town car ride from JFK to a little gem in the east village. I’m not kidding. My hotel was called the Gem Soho. Google it. It’s real. that first day I was wandering the streets, praying to some deity of street signs and google maps that I would not get lost and killed on my first day in New York. Success.

Fast-forward three and a half months. I’m taking off. Back to places where the deli on every block isn’t open 24 hours and the homeless men become your neighbors. For the next three weeks I will not be able to wander into the all night pizza place around the corner and order 2 slices of plain, spice them up with a few cups of parmesan and pray that the hangover wont be that bad. Alas, usually my prayers to the gods of pizza, cheese and whiskey usually fall on deaf ears, so for the next 16 hours I am relegated to my little patch of space on the densely populated little island that I now call home.

I decided to come back to blogging and approach it differently than I had in the past. I felt like eeeeeveryone had a blog and they all wanted to be different and unique and all that cool stuff. So I jumped ship. Happens (that’s my new catch phrase). I decided to come back and be more mature, more clever, whatever. I just tried that for three whole paragraphs. Woof. Wore me out.

Two nights ago my girl Same mae told me that I’m different. I’m less cynical. Dare I say… happy! Which is true. I’m ecstatic. I love my life. I fucking love my life. I am quite possibly the coolest person that I have ever met in my life. You should meet me. I’ll prove it to you. I don’t want to be mature and clever and all that bullshit though. I want to do it exactly the way I had been doing it, but with better punctuation. I literally have just had this revelation as I typed this paragraph on my cross-country flight from NYC to Whitefish via Seattle decked out in my discount high-top Nike dunks, All Blacks rugby jersey and pea coat. Like I said- coolest person ever. I am so ready to attack the blogsphere again. Bring it bitches. I’ll have you by the balls in no time flat.

So let’s try this again. I love New York City more than I love taco bell, whiskey gingers, huckleberries, and sailing. Combined. Bold statement? Yes. Necessary? Absolutely. Also, I’m glad that I measure things that I like in terms of food. Fat kid 4 life. Anyways. Back to my life now.

I live in lower Manhattan. I study at NYU. I’ve convinced myself that I will be a successful actor one day (you rain on that parade I will end you). I have a newfound affinity for partying. Who knew I could be good at it? It surprised me too. In short- I’m living the dream.

I’ll take you back through some highlights from the last few months to demonstrate just how true that statement is. My introduction to NYU started the Wednesday night before orientation. I was set to report to campus at 930 sharp on Thursday morning, but being brand new and, knowing hardly anyone, who was I to turn down an invitation to a welcome back party on the Lower East Side? I agree and tell myself that I will not drink that much and I’ll be home by 2 at the latest- a phrase that became my futile mantra later in the semester. More on that later. I went to this party and had a rockin good time. I met a bunch of people, made new friends and beatboxed for a drunk investment banker trying to pick up the desperate NYU girls (there’s a severe shortage of straight males at my school. We’re like grizzly bears or terrorists- you know they’re around but you hardly ever see one. ). Shortly after I dropped a mad beat, my banker was cut off by the bartender who screamed in his face “You’re out of control!!!!” Sorry for being an enabler (no I’m not). The night progressed and 2 o’clock rolled around… no last call. What? Is this Narnia? Have I stumbled through a wardrobe where alcohol is served into the wee hours of the morning? No, bars in New York just stay open till 4. Best news ever. Suffice it to say I found myself in a diner at roughly 430 with my new friends, insisting to the waiter that I am highly allergic to peanuts and I will die if he gives me anything with peanuts or peanut oil, but besides that I would like an omelet and fries. Somehow broccoli was involved in my omelet. I was not happy. I finally stumbled to bed aroun d 5, only to be jolted awake, still well over the legal driving limit in most of the lower 48, and dragged myself to orientation. Hola NYU. I think we’ll get along nicely.

And get along nicely we did. The trend of me stumbling home post 4 am has continued. It’s a habit really. But only on weekends… sortof. The thing about NYU is that people take school really seriously. It’s hard. But then the raging we do on the weekends more than makes up for it. First semester passed in a blur of academic weightlifting and weekend debauchery. Maybe in another post I will elaborate on halloweekend- the weekend that saw no sobriety. Or holiday party weekend- absinthe and yule mules were involved. Or the time we ended up in a Russian bar with stripper poles and bare breasted statues that I may or may not have fondled. Or maybe I’ll discuss my ten hour long acting class on Saturdays. Or solo karaokeing some 50 Cent in a semi crowded bar. Or I’ll expound upon the nuances of the word “train.” Or I’ll just say fuck NYC, I want to talk about how global warming would be a non-issue if we were all wizards.

Whatever happens, will happen. I’m so glad to be back.

.

you're talkin shit again.

how fitting that my last post's title came from a song called "dental care." i might even call it prophetic, but more of a miss cleo prophetic than, say, jesus. i suppose he still wins even though if i was gods kid i would sure as shit get better than frankincense and myrrh. i'll take the gold though. pawn that shit and blow it on strippers and coke. just kidding. god definitely would send me to messiah military school for that shit.

so back to the dental care shenanigans. last week when i went to my bi-annual checkup i had the fill in dental hygenist. these women are bad enough as it is, but to get the fill in one, the second string, you know you're in some shit. first she asked me the same question numerous times. i told her yes i go to USC. she proceded to ask me all about SEC and tell the doctor that i went there. hey dipshit! THATS NOT A SCHOOL!!!! Lindalea, you fail yet again. Then whilst cleaning my teeth she poked and prodded every last nook and cranny of my gums and kept saying "oh we have a little bleeding here..." yeah no shit, you just used your medieval torture device masquerading as a dental instrument to stab me half to death. i reserve the right to bleed under these circumstances. i finally made it through this terrible ordeal only to be lectured on my keebler elf of a dentist on the merits of flossing, which i dont make a habit of. i was already on the edge so i tuned out and pretended that my teeth were invincible and immune to the dangers of plaque and gingivitis.

fast forward to this week. my pretend immunity failed. i showed up and for the first time in my life got a semi normal hygienist. i'll take it. i settled in for a long haul. i knew i had 14 sealants coming my way and i wasnt going to like it, but my mom got to watch a movie while she had her stuff done so i figured i would be allowed to as well. negative ghostrider. no movie. only pain. after installing a dental dam in my mouth (which my RA handed out freshman year in case you wanted to go down on some lucky lady... strange.) and drawing the first blood we had to wait for the dentist. my hygienist then started trying to have a conversation with me. they always do that i can never figure out why. are you that lonely that you have to try to talk to someone with a sheet of rubber, two giant metal clamps and copious amounts of drool in and around their mouth? i mean i know im a hoot and a half but really she could have asked for my opinion of avatar before or after installing the dental equivalent of a ball gag. my answers limited to grunts and head shakes, i soon went into a trance like state only to leave it after the foreign objects were removed from my mouth.

but wait, there's more.

that was only the top teeth. the bottom teeth were more of the same, but i had a longer wait for the dentist to stop making those delicious fudge stripes in his tree and come attend to the home depot that had accumulated in my mouth. i took in my surroundings... the blank, movie-less tv screen, the parking lot outside, a nifty little contraption called the "compudent" that i figured sterilized things or something. wrong. shortly into my next round of sealants they discovered a cavity. ok no big deal they will numb me up and that will be that. wrong. they just drilled away with a reassuring "you're doing great" and filled the tooth without any novacaine. FML. the more they started saying "great job, outstanding, hang in there" the more i cursed their mothers to hell and their daughters to whore-dom, only silently because of the aforementioned ball gag. i made it through my cavity fine and then they found another. FUUUUUCK. apparently this one had more decay and they were gonna have to numb me up. at least they found this occasion to be thrifty with the damn drugs. i braced myself for a little pinch when i looked up at the compudent. before i know it the elven dentist was pulling a huge needle out of it dripping with some numbing agent and it was headed directly for my chompers. AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! i didnt have time to react too much because he jabbed away and next thing i knew the right side of my mouth no longer belonged to me. some scraping, crunching and grinding ensued and i cringed through it, and fortunately survived. barely. at least no more dental work for six months and while my mouth was numb i only let water spill out of it twice before i decided i had better hold off on sustenance until further notice.

well that was my adventure today. saturday is the day that i have been waiting for. I FINALLY MOVE. yessssssss.

golf and alcohol dont mix, thats why i dont drink and drive

well its that special time again. it usually only comes once in every young persons life unless they are indecisive, an idiot, overly ambitious, or some combination therein. im putting myself in the latter category and citing indecision and ambition as my crimes of choice. in case you are wondering what on gods green earth i am talking about, i will tell you now.

college applications.

they have started again. FML. and they never get any better apparently. it seems as if some of the essay questions are designed specifically to boost the ego of the school (what is so appealing about this school and why) and others want aim to lift up the applicants spirits (write a poem about yourself). some of them however, seem like they are pointing a finger at me saying "you uncultured piece of shit, you will never succeed here!!!!!!! (what exhibits or performances have you enjoyed in the past year? uuhh well none im a college dropout and unless you count my mother drunkenly singing lady gaga on christmas then i have seen few performances and even fewer exhibits).

so while these applications plant little seeds of doubt deep within my soul, i am forced to ponder my last year. it was a hoot for sure, but can i apply any of that to the college experience? i played hide and seek in the holocaust memorial at 5 am in berlin, but how will that help me succeed at an ivy league school? i taught kids how to sail a 50 foot yacht without killing themselves, or more importantly me, but can i identify synechdoche in an emily dickinson poem? i lived in a van in new zealand for two weeks, but can i summarize the goals of health care reform without sounding stupider than a brain dead chimp? plus, how do i top my last college essay ("i live in a house ruled by the nasdaq, bridge club and paula deen. vana white is my dinner date, and nancy grace sits in on her off nights." it was about living with gigi.) it was a daaamn good one. oh well.

in other news- IM MOVING TO THE DIRTY DIRTY!!!!! back to atlanta. back to sweet tea. back to gorgeous weather. back to the nasty ass bradford pear trees stankin up spring time. back to the land of country clubs and the confederacy. back to the chattahoochee river. i am so excited. i cant wait. maybe there i will have some more blog worthy adventures since i have been slightly dull lately. i did give up boozing as part of a new health kick that im on. dont worry, its nothing permanent. i will be back in action in no time.

alright, now off to summarize the plot of my biopic being made in 2050 in 500 characters or less.