Tuesday, January 31, 2012

HOLIDAY IN SIBERIA

It's cold in Milan.




And I refuse to let that affect me. 






Snow means class is cancelled right? 

Sunday, January 29, 2012

PLASTICAT

This week I've been kind of busy applying for this Residency thing I wanna do next year in Amsterdam AKA the Red Light District and they want me to send them a Powerpoint with my work and a DVD of videos and I'm like who uses POWERPOINT aside from students at Bocconi and people in 1995 so I'm just compiling a video with my best stuff aka that one time I got kicked out of Plastic for ruining a concert or whatever. PS- Mom don't watch this or at least if you do don't Skype me right afterwards because you might be mad.  

Saturday, January 28, 2012

WITH LOVE FROM MOSCOW

The past few days have been ~SO DRAMATIC~ I broke another cell phone, professed my love for a boy (he bought me a brownie), decided I hate him (he pointed out my double chin), learned I'd be a good cat and decided that I'm moving to Russia. 






And this pimple under my nose just keeps getting bigger don't act like yall don't see it I know you're judging me. 

Thursday, January 26, 2012

DECALPH

Just trying to pass my exams while dealing with the drama of being held responsible for my roommate's poop.




"Il cafe e la cigarette fanno la cagata perfetta!"

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

MEGAUPLAID

I know I said I wouldn't blog for a while via having to study but after Megaupload and Megavideo and basically all our social lives have been shut down I realized I must do what I can to Save The Internet. I still don't have much time to write but I always find at least a few minutes a day to talk to myself. 


Thursday, January 19, 2012

DANCECLAIMER

So thanks to slacking off  focusing too much on "work" the past few years I kind of forgot all about school till this week when I realized that in order to graduate on time I need be a Slave To My Studies and in effect spend less time on the internet. And that's not even the worst part, like, I can't go out so the only parties I'm attending are by myself in my bathroom. So I guess this is kind of ~Goodbye~ as I'll probably lose all my followers soon and end up crying under a bridge or something.  Anyway just watch this on repeat when you miss me or whatever:


Sunday, January 15, 2012

MEN'S FASHION WEAK 2012/// TRAGEDY STRIKES MILAN

I can't really put into words how I feel about this Men's Fashion Week. To say I'm "disappointed" would be the biggest understatement since "Work It" was named World's Worst Show. I mean, you can basically only compare my situation to that of a starving puppy who usually only gets fed two weeks out of the year and that's basically all he lives for and this week when his food arrives it turns out to be really stale and stuck-up and bitchy and won't go home with him and even if it did there aren't even any taxis because the taxis are on strike and so when the he gives up someone just kicks him for the fun of it or whatever.






Anyway tonight is my ~Last Chance~ to redeem myself so if yall have any tips holla at me.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

FIRST CLASS JERKS

Being a ~Dirty Immigrant~ I've been flying since I was little and in doing so I've learned lots of things about airports and airplanes. Like how to un-pop your ears when the air pressure of flying makes your head feel like your stomach does when you have diarrhea, how to sit without crossing your legs to avoid getting a stroke, how to fall asleep next to a crying baby, which airports have the best bars and what type of business man there will most likely buy you drinks or whatever-but the most important thing I've learned is who to avoid, like talkers who don't let you read your US Weekly, first-timers who clap when the plane lands, anybody with children and most of all, the First Class Jerks

You know those dudes who get to go through the lines faster, the ones who never have to get other people's sweat all over their luggage and the putas who actually look more rested after a 12 hour flight? The assholes who get to party in Exclusive Lounges and sip Prosecco in designer leather sofas and Jacuzzis while the rest of us have to trample all over each other like Black Friday at Wal-Mart? Well, after all these years my envy of Those People eventually turned into annoyance and that annoyance eventually turned into hatred and that hatred eventually turned into pity because it's hard not to feel sorry for someone that everyone despises, you know? Anyway, all this changed during my last trip to Milan. 


While waiting for my flight from JFK to Malpensa I heard someone call me over the intercom. "Can Teee-yuh Haychik Vlahaowiefhawe come to the gate desk please?" Hoping security had found my lost Midol I ran up there immediately and said "I'm Teee-yuh Haychik Vlahaowiefhawe" and the lady was like "we have your seat" and I was like "I already have a seat" and she was like "well we've changed it" and I was like "YOU AREN'T PUTTING ME WITH THE DOGS AGAIN" and she was like "you're a Gold Medallion member, we've upgraded your ticket" and I was like "are you calling me fat" and she was like "YOU ARE A FREQUENT FLYER AND WE ARE REWARDING YOU DO YOU WANT YOUR TICKET OR NOT" so I was like "maybe" so she gave it to me and it said "9 D" which is in First Class.


After my initial shock of having an aisle AND window seat at the same time and having enough leg room to not rupture my uterus with my knees and being seated near people who smelled like something other than cheese and vaseline I was able to organize my thoughts and take a few pictures for yall:


First class is basically like a Dolce & Gabbana party because there's tons of free champagne, expensive water and gift bags full of exclusive things like toothpaste, lotion and socks. You get to see famous people from TV,



and eat chic inedible food while yelling across the room to people who are worth more than the country you're from.

 


Money may not buy happiness, but I guess it actually can.

Monday, January 9, 2012

FOLLOW THE CABBAGE

Today was my last day with my Sister in DC before I go back to Milan and as much as I wanted to stay in and watch another Romantic Comedy Featuring Strong Female Lead with Her and Mom I realized I have to start studying if I wanna graduate before menopause so I told them I'm going out to "read" so Mom gave me her Debit Card so I could get coffee or whatever so I put the Debit Card in one of my books but at the cafe I finished my book so when I get back to my Sister's Apartment I left the book on her floor.




Later my Mom was like "lets go out" and I was like "cool let's do that" and she was like "you have my Debit Card, right" and I was like "Duh" so we walked for like an hour to get to this French Cafe which is like a million miles away from my Sister's Place and on the way there I noticed a bunch of purple cabbages so I was like "look, Mom what the hell" and she was like "whatever" (this is #foreshadowing or something just pay attention). Anyway at the cafe we got coffee and cakes and and some other stuff and a bill of fifty bucks so Mom was like "Tea, give me my card" and I was like "why" and she was like "because we have to pay" and I looked for it in my bag and couldn't find it so I was like "oh shit I don't have it" and she was like "why" and I was like "because I put it in my book and I left my book at Sister's Place" and so she was like "well don't you have your card" and I was like "duh, no, don't you have cash" and she was like "no" so it turned out we didn't have anything so I had to walk back to my Sister's Apartment alone while my Mom waited there so that we wouldn't get in trouble for leaving and because we couldn't call my Sister for help because she was asleep. So I headed out alone and obviously got lost after like 5 minutes because every inch of DC looks exactly the same and I'm really bad with numbered streets and I don't even have a phone or an iPod here so I had to ask some guys where the Hilton Hotel is because I remembered it being nearby but the guys were like "which hotel" and I was like "the Hilton" and they were like "there's more than one Hilton here" and I was like "the big one" and they were like "..." and I was like "you know near that hill near that really trendy area with gay people or whatever" and they walked away. 




So I kept getting lost and I imagined my Mom having to wash dishes at that cafe to pay off our bill and meanwhile my Sister waking up alone and wondering why neither of us ever came home and me having to beg for change to use a Pay Phone to call for Help but nobody giving me any which leads to me stealing which leads to me going to jail which leads to me being friends with Lindsay Lohan which leads to me missing my flight. And when I almost started to cry I saw those f'ing cabbages I had seen with my Mom earlier and they were just across the street and for a second I thought to myself "wow everything's OK" and then I thought "actually maybe there are other cabbages in this city" but then I realized that sometimes you've just got to Follow Your Heart.




Needless to say we're home safely. 

Friday, January 6, 2012

AM I AN ALCOHOLIC?

Last night after three pitchers of Frozen Strawberry Margaritas and what I'm told was an exciting one-woman show featuring me rapping about my Reproductive Organs and offering to sell my Eggs to people and having my Own Mother tell me that maybe the reason why I don't have a boyfriend is because men are afraid I will destroy their life in a Fit of Alcoholic Rage, I had to ask myself some questions, like 


1) What exactly was I rapping because it sounds cool,
2) Did anyone buy my eggs (should I set up a Pay Pal) and
3) AM I AN ALCOHOLIC?


In longing to learn more about my Condition I turned to the Web for advice-and found this website which promised to give me a diagnosis on my Relationship With Booze via this Alcoholic Screening Quiz. I took it and here's what happened:


Don't know how much more it can be ruined?


I mean I kind of always do. Is this a trick question?


Only when I'm too drunk to steal.


Define "inferior."


A ten pack a day is pretty efficient. 


What's a job?


I'm only worried this quiz killing my buzz.


I gave up on that years ago.


Damn I thought I'd do better than 25% - guess I'd better study!



Thursday, January 5, 2012

MY TEENAGE BEDROOM CONTINUED - LOVE LETTERS AND CATS

Hey remember that time that Bear went through my old bedroom and found an envelope full of Letters and stuff? Well he finally convinced me to read them out loud and film my cat or whatever:


Tuesday, January 3, 2012

GROWN-UP PARTY: THE PASSIVE-AGRESSIVE TYRA BANKS POST

This NYE my parents took me to a Grown-Up Party full of First Generation Immigrant Croatians who have Successful Second Generation Immigrant Children who are My Age but couldn't make it to the party because they have Real Jobs and Relationships. And I could make it but I had to leave early because you know what?

HOW DARE YOU.

HOW DARE YOU JUDGE ME. 

YOU DON'T KNOW WHO I AM.

YOU DON'T KNOW WHERE I'VE BEEN.

OR HOW LONG I'VE BEEN THERE.

HOW DARE YOU SIT ME AT THE CHILDREN'S TABLE.


HOW DARE YOU ASK ABOUT MY JOB.

DO I LOOK LIKE I WANNA WORK.

HOW DARE YOU ASK IF I MAKE ENOUGH MONEY. 

I DON'T.

HOW DARE YOU NOT READ MY BLOG.

HOW DARE YOU ASK WHEN I GRADUATE.

DO I LOOK LIKE I WANT TO GRADUATE.

HOW DARE YOUR KID TELL ME HER MATH TEACHER IS YOUNGER THAN ME. 

EVEN IF SHE IS.

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN.

AND JUST WHO THE HELL DOES HER MATH TEACHER THINK SHE IS.

HOW DARE YOU IMPLY I WANT TO GET MARRIED.

I MEAN DO YOU WANT ME TO VOMIT ON YOUR COUCH OR SOMETHING.

DO YOU WANT ME TO BREAK ALL YOUR DISHES.

AND BLAH BLAH WHATEVER.

WHERE IS THE REST OF THE ALCOHOL.

NO THIS IS NOT TOO MUCH.

NO LIKE, I DRINK ALL THE TIME.

NO REALLY I DO.

YES WELL I'M REALLY BUSY OVER THERE.

YEAH I MEAN MY LIFE IS KIND OF HARD.

WHAT?

NO.

WHAT THE HELL IS GRADUATE SCHOOL.

WHERE'D YOU PUT MY DRINK.

HOW DARE YOU.

YOU KNOW WHAT? 

I'M LEAVING.


BYE.