"I have work. Then a dinner thing, and then I am busy trying to become who I am." - Hannah, Girls

Tuesday, August 30, 2016

Surprise! I have no job prospectives, but I'm interesting I swear.

This is how I feel before people know I'm taking Painting this semester:

                      
Look at me. You assume that I am in the Business School. I am studying Marketing, or Economics, or maybe taking Calculus. WRONG.

I'm an English major first and foremost. I like writing. No, I don't want to be a teacher. I took a lot of Film Studies classes with the intention of that being my second major. But, I decided that film theory and analysis is bleh. So, I declared Digital Media Production as my second major! It's like Film Studies, but is more hands-on. You create things instead of sitting in a class talking about things that other people created. 

"Well that's cool!" you're thinking. Hold on. It gets better. 

I'm technically a senior, because I've taken  w a y y y y  too many credits. So I am playing around with my time.

Here is how I feel after people discover that I am taking Painting this semester:



I feel super cool and trendy, despite the fact that I haven't even touched paint yet. I always wanted to an artist when I was little. For Christmas one year, I got a blue beret and an easel. My prepubescent self would be thrilled to know that I am painting. But, she would also be heartbroken to know that we don't get cool splotches of paint all over our clothes. And she would be devastated about the fact that we definitely don't wear berets in class. 

Liberal Arts rocks. I like doing things that I liked to do when I was 5-years-old. So what? Painting 101 > Finance. I need to remember that when I'm regretting my majors/minors come graduation time.

Monday, August 29, 2016

My Life is A Sitcom, I Just Need A Laugh Track

Let me breakdown who I have lived with in my new apartment:

This is ShayBayBay and me. I got to the apartment on June 1st when our lease started. ShayBayBay had been here taking classes. Shay is on the right, and is very excited to finally live in her own home. She had been squatting for a while. I am on the left, and feel at ease. Chaos has not yet occurred, and I am living with someone I have already shared a small dorm room with. Everything is amazing.




Laura moves in. She is a 65-year-old woman who is deathly allergic to cats and smells like cigarettes. She is visiting her daughter, but cannot live with her because CATS. Laura decided to essentially Airbnb our apartment. Carls found her online, and gave no warning of her arrival. I found her creeping outside our front door one afternoon. ShayBayBay and I spent our days with Laura in a state of shock and confusion. We don't see her much, but when we do, it's weird.



ShayBayBay leaves. Her sister Sassy A moves in. We both are still confused, but know Laura is leaving soon. Sassy A and I bond over The Bachelorette and our shitty jobs/managers.

Sweaty Subletter moves in. We are more confused than we were with Laura. Sweaty Subletter is sober and super sweaty. He attended our school, but left in the middle of sophomore year. Sassy A knew him when he was here, because they would have been in the same graduating class. We don't understand why he decided to come back, or why his parents thought it was a good idea. I hide alcohol in the house to make him more comfortable. He drops one of his two summer classes. He watches The Bachelorette with us and our friends.



Kate The Hermit arrives. She is very overweight and unfriendly. She cooks dinner in the microwave and locks herself in her room. She doesn't come out to brush her teeth or pee. We are all dually grossed out and impressed by her bladder. The Hermit is here doing her "clinicals." Her mother told me this in a way like I should have known. Her place of work is far away, and Sassy A and I don't know why she wants to live here. She never says "hi." I decide to give up being nice and don't speak to her as she prepares her concoction of featuring off-brand shredded cheese and sour cream. The Hermit has friends in town for a few days and all 8 of them drank daiquiris in her room with the door closed. They all appear nerdy and never introduce themselves. Hermit and her friends are quite possibly the most boring and impolite people I've ever met. In The Hermit's final days, she actually sat on the couch and watched TV like a normal person.

Sweaty Subletter is still sweaty. But Sassy A and I appreciate his friendliness. He means well, but can be overly-nice sometimes. He bakes subpar treats, which we don't eat. He bangs one of Sassy's friends. We are confused about the attraction, because sweat and bald and socially awkward and sober. I mean I want to be able to drink with a guy I'm into, but maybe I just really like wine.


This is my house for the fall semester. I was supposed to live with two Spanish girls studying abroad here, but that fell through. They flipped out when ShayBayBay found Mr. Law School as a subletter. They did not want to live with a boy. So, Sweaty Subletter was supposed to move out, but is still living in Caro's room. The Foreigner was a last minute edition. Mr. Law is in ShayBayBay's room and is a 3rd year law student. He is bald and has tattoos. He is nice and smart and will be studying a lot. The Foreigner is in Carls's room. He is very tall and from Copenhagen and has blonde hair that he frequently puts in a ponytail. He is cute in a foreign way.

If you look closely at this picture, you can see me, not giving a fuck. I no longer care who enters my home. Hell, I could room with Satan at this point. I've drawn myself shrugging, deciding to treat this semester as a learning experience. I raise my arms, and my XL t-shirt and its baggy sleeves gives my wings, like a sugar glider.

My name is Slagzy, and I am quite possibly too low maintenance. I am a pimp, living with three men. I will continue to watch TV without pants.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

Apartment Sweet Apartment


Here's me with my keys outside my puke orange home!



I moved into my apartment at the start of June, and it still doesn't feel like my own. I love my house. My room is amazing. I have my own bathroom. I have parking. I can walk to school in no time. I signed a lease with my suit from sophomore year, but they are going abroad this fall. BUT....

My house doesn't quite yet feel like a home. My friends are abroad and I am left to deal with random subletters. Life is WEIRD.

Saturday, August 13, 2016

Call me Slagzy the Snail!!!!

Look! You can see my handwriting!


My name is Slagzy. Slagzy the snail.

This blog is semi-anonymous. I'm not going to go to great lengths to hide my real identity. But I'm also not plastering this blog all over my social media. This blog isn't meant to have people in my real life know everything about me. This blog is 1) my way to vent and document my life and thoughts and 2) hopefully entertaining and relatable to people that stumble across it.

I need some sort of name. And as far as you are concerned I am Slagzy. Why you ask?

My sister tried to type my name in our family group text and autocorrect changed it to slags, which is not even close to my name. She thought it was so funny, she continued to call me Slags. Her friends also call me Slags on occasion. Slags has since morphed into Slagzy.

The snail part is also a nickname from my sister. Back when we were both still in elementary school we used to sing this poetic 5 line song:

Snailyyyyyyyy
Yeah Snailyyyyyyyy
You rock snailyyyyyyy
Yeah
GO SNAILY!

I don't know why we sang it. I don't know how we came up with it. All I know is that I was "Snail," and this song was my theme song. I would groove and dance and we sung about me being awesome.

My sister and I made up a lot of weird songs. We did a lot of weird things. Snail stuck as a nickname. Slagzy is more recent. Put them together, and you have a combination of old and new me. You also have alliteration.

I may rename this blog "The Cynical Snail" or something. Still unsure.

I know is that I like writing about my life (which right now is just absurd). I know I want to draw out some events because pictures are fun and huge blocks of text can be overwhelming. Let's hope this project goes somewhere. Cheer me on plz! GO SNAILY!

Friday, August 12, 2016

Tuesday, August 9, 2016

Update on Subletters

I drove Sweaty Subletter to the airport the other day. He is going home for a little before school starts. I asked him in the car if he kissed A's friend he matched with on Tinder. He didn't answer, I pressed, and he admitted he had.

Later Sassy A and I found out that not only had he kissed her, he slept with her at about 3 in the afternoon. So Congrats to him for landing a girl! Except she's leaving for a nursing program. Fleeting five day relationship.

From this I have learned:
1) Sweaty Subletter christened the apartment and had sex in my housemates bed before she has even lived here
2) Sassy A then told me that she actually christened the apartment, meaning she had sex in her sister's bed
3) I have zero game apparently

In other news. The Hermit had a lot of friends in town, and as I expected, they were dweeby. And they also neglected to say hi or introduce themselves to me. Odd.

Also, Hermit has come out of her room. I have found her sitting on the couch twice watching TV. The first time it was Real Housewives of New Jersey. The second time it was the Olympics.

The next subletter has texted me saying he will be here in a week. Which means Sassy A will be leaving soon, and I'll miss her.

I will be sure to write a report on the new guy, we're calling him Mr. Law School, because he's a law school student from Maryland.

I made myself a cake and blew out my candles alone

...and I don't even think that's sad.

In fact, I think making myself a cake and celebrating 20 years alone was the best thing I could've done for myself. 

I have a hard time with food. I get nervous when I eat out. I can't justify buying certain "unhealthy" foods at the grocery store. Buying the ingredients for a cake (especially after not working out) was an act of defiance. 

I could have easily made a batch of some kind of vegan-oatmeal-almond-butter-stevia-flourless-eggless cookies and felt less anxious. But no, that's not how I should honor my 2 decades on this earth. It's not how my mom would want it. And deep down, I knew I wanted a cake. 

I wanted a super dense, rich, and cold chocolate fudge cake with salted caramel. It took me all day. And when I was done, I was proud of myself. 

I'm proud because I broke in my new Kitchen Aid mixer. I'm proud because I'm learning to cook and bake on my own. I'm proud because I treated myself. And mostly, I'm proud because no one made me do any of these things. 

No one sliced me a piece of a store bought cake and said "enjoy." No one told me they loved me and were excited to see what I do in my 3rd decade of life. I did all of these things myself.

I took a fork directly to my cake at 1am. I allowed myself to. I felt good about it. I went to bed with a thankful stomach. I told myself that I'm pretty great as I turned out the lights. I'm doing the best that I can. And I'm me. That's all I need.

I deserve to be happy when I think back on my 20 years and on the years ahead. I deserve to buy my own candles, light the candles, turn out the lights, make a wish, and blow them out. I deserve to celebrate myself.

I labored on a cake all day and had party all to myself that night. It may seem pointless. But it was one of the most purposeful days I've had in a long time.

I can't think of a better way to start off the final countdown to 21. 

 


Tuesday, August 2, 2016

When people tell me I should write a blog and they don't know that haha I have one

My housemate Sassy A and I were discussing the strangeness that has surrounded my new apartment.

"You should write a blog," she told me.

The subletter stories deserve multiple posts, but here's a quick run down:

Right now, we live with Sweaty Subletter and recovering addict and The Hermit a girl who locks herself in her room and doesn't come out to brush her teeth.

I share a bathroom with Sweaty Subletter, and like most boys, he doesn't know how to clean. His little beard hairs collect around the sink and I *cringe* have to deal with it.  I've walking in on him shitting once. I plan on keeping track of how many times this happens throughout the semester. Don't worry, readers will be updated.

The most recent story has to do with Sweaty, the sober subletter. Sweaty matched with Sassy A's friend on Tinder, and they've been secretly hanging out. But Sassy A and I know they hung out last Saturday AND were texting last night during the Bachelorette finale.

The Hermit never leaves her room. She must have a bladder of steel. Her self-quarantine might be past the point of weird. It may just be flat out impressive. The Hermit confuses me because 1) I tried to be friendly and she's rude.....I've given up 2) she's very overweight but is never in the kitchen.....candy stash under bed

The first subletter Laura is where the strangeness began. Picture a 65-year-old woman who reaks of cigarettes and is deathly allergic to cats. She greeted me outside my apartment door with the worst handshake I've ever received and was wearing a wide brimmed hat. Her ponytail was long and grey, and her hat strap was secure against her chin. She looked like she was ready for a safari.  Laura is long gone now. She was here for about 2 weeks, and used a college apartment like an AirBnb. Interesting choice in my opinion.

In 20 years, I'll look back on my fond memories of Laura. There was that time I faked concern when she told me about how her soup spilled all over her paper hat. I'll never forget how she showed Sassy A and me the spider she found and captured in her room. She stared at us in silence from across the room, holding a ziploc baggy in her palms. She waited for about 5 minutes for one of us to ask her what she was doing. A swallowed her pride and entertained Laura's craziness.

As of today, Mr. Law School, a law school student and The Foreigner, studying abroad from Copenhagen will be joining me and Sweaty Subletter in the fall.

My life is like a bad sitcom. An even shittier version of New Girl.

Monday, August 1, 2016

Mystery Box

This arrived in the mail yesterday:



I started painting yesterday, so I didn't get bored like I usually do. I decided to wait until today to open it. 

Ideas on what my parents got me: 
1) Kitchen Aid Mixer
2) Espresso / Latte machine
3) Ice maker 

Update: I was right it was a Kitchen Aid mixer and it's top 3 of presents I've ever received. It's up their with my car I got last summer and my easel I got for Christmas years ago.