Posts Tagged ‘the Hobbit’

Brandeis is the Worst Place on Earth

March 16, 2014

To be fair to Brandeis, it was the worst place on earth circa 1998. Perhaps since then it’s become a Shangri-la of scholarship. Fortunately for the reader, however, I have no interest in being fair to the biggest vortex of suckiness that the universe has ever seen.

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They have a castle. That’s how they get ya.

I didn’t know when I got in that I had been accepted to fulfill some internal quota requiring that the school admit a minimum of 5-10 (and no more than 20) totally bitchin’ college students. For that reason, they didn’t send me the brochure they must have sent to the rest of the student body, which I imagine looked something like this:

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Welcome, Freshmen!

  • Are you socially awkward, and kinda ugly?
  • Would your personality be best described as “irritating?”
  • Are you planning on “letting loose” in college by amping up your religious conservatism?

Well, do we have good news for you! Come join your warty hands with your fellow uglies[1], and enjoy 4 years of junior high dances pretending to be college parties!

FAQS

Q: I like the idea of racial diversity, but am not really ready to commit. Is this the right place for me?

A: Brandeis boasts a highly diverse campus just the way you like it. None of the different ethnic, religious, or other social groups ever interact with each other! It’s a nervous liberal’s paradise! You’ll be able to make friends who are just like you and still brag at your Goldman Sachs interview that you have walked by people of all races, religions, and creeds!

The Curse Of Brandeis

When Anna and Jennie visited me, two of their tires popped in the Brandeis parking lot. When my pal Leeman came to visit, he also popped two tires. And then he split his pants.

So, in conclusion, let me say this to my non-existent teenage fan base: if you go to Brandeis, you will die a horrible death. It will probably be from a disease that doesn’t even exist yet, like terminal herpes or infectious reverse warts.[2]

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You, dying a horrible, horrible death. You’ve been warned.

Part II: Dating at Brandeis is the Worst Thing in the World

One of my three friends, Shoshanna, was deciding whether or not to accept the advances of a boy she wasn’t really interested in. A girl with a long-term boyfriend gave her some great advice:

“You’ve found someone who likes you. You must stay with him forever and force yourself to like him,” she said, furiously wringing her hands while she stared ahead in a desperate dissociative panic. With a dating climate like that, I was ready for romance!

desperate

Boyfriends are great!

And so I dated Plamen. He did have one thing my seventeen year old heart yearned for: foreignness. That mattered to me then because I was a turd. He had an accent, and even though it wasn’t a particularly good one, it was good enough for me. (Later on, in my “refined turd” phase, I’d only melt for English and French accents.)

He went by the self-inflicted nickname, “Space.” When Jennie came for a visit, she more accurately dubbed him, “Flathead.” And he was always wearing this black t-shirt that listed all the world religions’ philosophies thusly:

Catholicism: If shit happens, I deserve it.
Protestantism: Shit won’t happen if I work harder.
Judaism: Why does this shit always happen to me?
Buddhism: When shit happens, is it really shit?
Islam: If shit happens, take a hostage.
Hinduism: This shit happened before.
Hare Krishna: Shit happens Rama Lama Ding Dong.

(Fortunately, I didn’t write this offensive cosmic jiz, so I don’t have to feel responsible for unleashing it onto the world.)

I suppose another sign that it wasn’t going to work out was right at the start of our relationship. We were taking a hike in the mountains, and sat down for a rest. The sun was setting, and everything it touched was ablaze with gold. I leaned in for that first kiss.  But just before I closed my eyes, I made the mistake of looking at him. He had, without warning, suddenly mutated into an eager Gollum, leering at me from the shadows.

Gollum

Romantipulsive

It occurred to me as I shuddered through that romantic moment that maybe he wasn’t the right guy for me, but for some reason (coma?), I ended up staying with him for two whole months. Things did not get better.

So let that be a lesson to you, kids. Don’t date Gollums. Hold out for Hobbits. https://imogenflowers.wordpress.com/2014/03/12/things-i-dont-like-about-my-boyfriend/

Here’s another awkward moment in our relationship: I was in the middle of telling him I liked him very much, but tragically stuttered a bit. He responded with a smile and self-satisfied laugh, “I love you, too.” What was I supposed to say? Look, I was saying I like you, not I love you. I don’t love you. As for your loving me, I guess I can live with that.

Things went from bad to worse. One time we went to Boston and missed the last train back to Waltham. We were stranded there overnight. We wandered around and eventually squished our bodies together on a park bench. Oh, and did I mention it was November? Five hours later, we walked the 75 miles to the nearest train station. When we got back to campus, I learned that his sister lived in Boston, but that he hadn’t wanted to disturb her. Space was just lucky I didn’t have a gun.

Then came the death knell. It rang twice. First, on Thanksgiving, when he smoked pot with my dad. The second was back at school, when he cut his hair to look like Nicolas Cage in Face-Off.[3]

faceoff

Don’t worry, Dear. This is how love is supposed to feel.

I really shouldn’t have let it come to that.

The aftermath: he bugged me for the rest of the semester, making me Ramen Noodles while I was studying for finals. Space evidently thought I would sell my companionship for soup. Over Christmas break, he sent me a package containing a large plastic dinosaur that symbolized me and my destructive heart-killing forces.  Believe it or not, this didn’t win me back.

triceratops

My stony, stony heart was somehow unmoved.

The next semester, he started dating my roommate. She listened to Dave Matthews Band.


[1] My friends from home and I called Brandeis “The Ugly School.” This created some awkwardness back in Portland when my cousin Anna had a friend visiting. He was super nice, but a bit unfortunate looking. Our buddy Chris, thinking the friend had driven up from school with me, asked innocently, “Do you go to The Ugly School?” Anna and I quickly defused the situation by loudly and emphatically over-explaining to him that Chris was referring to Brandeis, and not his ugly face.

[2] You: what the hell is a reverse wart?

Me: It’s a wart that grows into your body instead of projecting out from it. It slowly crushes your internal organs and pushes through arteries and veins until they burst. I anticipate that it will be on the market by 2016.

[3] I decided I would be nice, and not mention his unrelenting impotence.

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Things I don’t like about my boyfriend[1]

March 12, 2014

Derek is pretty cool, I guess, but he has some terrible personality flaws that you need to know about. Now, I don’t think Derek would want me to put up photos of him in a public forum, so I am going to use the celebrity he most resembles as a proxy. Thank you for your face, Martin Freeman.

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Derek thinking super profound thoughts. NOT!

1. Derek Won’t Dance

Unless he’s drunk. And he’s only drunk if he’s been out late at clubs with his friends. And I can’t stay out late because I am not some kind of superwoman. So, ipso facto, I never get to dance with my own boyfriend. And man, can I dance. Derek and I have only danced together maybe once or twice in our entire epically-long relationship, and he is completely to blame.

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Blotto Derek late night dancing without me.

2. Derek Broke His Wrist

Derek broke his wrist when he hit a rough patch of road while riding his bicycle. And now he’s decided that he won’t ever go biking again. This despite the fact that I have lovely images of us biking side by side, probably holding hands, on a super romantic bike trail that likely leads to relationship heaven.

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As you can see, prior to the accident, Derek loved riding his bike.

3. Derek’s Been Wearing a Dumb Leather Jacket that Just Isn’t Working

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Derek looking dumb in his dumb leather jacket

As you can see, Derek just doesn’t look good in this jacket. He’s more of a peacoat guy. I wonder if I should say anything.

Derek: But K, I thought you did like it!?!

Me: Derek, the only reason you’ve been wearing it is because you couldn’t find a new winter coat you liked and you found this one buried at your mom and dad’s house.

4. Derek Can’t Read[2]

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Derek pretending he can read.

Actually, I like this about Derek, because it’s hilarious. It seems he often just sees the first and last letter of a word, and guesses about its insides. Example:

Derek (reading my Facebook page over my shoulder like a total busybody): What does Theresa have to say?

Me: Trisha. It says Trisha. Are you drunk?

Also, here is a list of words that Derek pronounces wrong:

Word Word that Comes out of Derek’s Dumb Mouth
Peripheral Periphreal
Lithe Lith[3]
Milk Melk
Centaur Centarr
Bed and Breakfasts Bed and Breakfastses
Annals Anals
Retina Reteena
Hearth Herth
Congenital

Anemia

Pendant

Congenitive

Enema

Pedant

5. Derek Can’t Swim

What kind of a person who grew up in a coastal town doesn’t learn how to swim? I’ll tell you who: Derek. Now, don’t go assuming he had shitty parents who kept him locked in the basement, not swimming. He had every opportunity to learn, and was too pouty and stubborn to do it.

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Derek in the pool, smugly not swimming

6. Derek Doesn’t Like the Beach

Dislike #5 + Dislike # 6 = there goes my Caribbean vacation.

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Boo hoo hoo, someone’s trying to make Derek have fun.

7. Derek is Too Cool for Halloween

Derek doesn’t like to dress up for Halloween, and heaven forbid we do a couple’s costume!

Derek: Uh, what about last year when you decided to dress up as me and we were going to be a Double Dose of Derek? So I spent a whole month growing a beard so that you could also have a beard. And then it’s Halloween and you’re like, “No I’m staying inside, I don’t want to go out.” So I grew a fucking beard for nothing, and it was itchy and it was a pain in the ass.

Me: No comment.

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DD of D.

8. Derek Put a Razor in the Trash and Then I Cut My Finger on it on Trash Day

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Artist’s rendition of Derek throwing the razor in the trash.

9. Derek Doesn’t Like the Common Ground Fair and Refuses to Move to Rural Maine

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What kind of a person doesn’t like looking at a bunch of hippies looking at a bunch of animals? Who doesn’t want to learn about turn of the century farming techniques masquerading as new and improved farming techniques?

And everyone knows that rural Maine is a thriving region of the country full of trees, gas stations, and my relatives. Who wouldn’t want to get in on that?

10. Derek Loves the Cat More Than He Loves Me

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My Facebook profile picture: a lovely photo of Derek and me at a friend’s wedding, looking happy and in love. My phone wallpaper: a cute silly picture of Derek wearing my kittens and mittens bathrobe. See how much I love him?

Derek’s profile pic? Him and Saul the cat. Derek’s phone wallpaper? Him and Saul the cat. Executor of Derek’s will? Saul the cat.

11. Derek Doesn’t Like Holidays

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What a grouch!!!

12. Derek Won’t Wear Deodorant

Derek doesn’t wear deodorant and he thinks he’s getting away with it. Last summer was very, very hot. I think you know where I’m going with this…

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Derek and his friend Jason at work. Jason can smile because he’s wearing deodorant and doesn’t smell.

13. Derek Never Gives Me Flowers

I’ve said to him like a million times, “Derek, it’s Valentine’s Day. Derek, it’s my birthday. Derek, I lost my job. Derek, Shirley Temple passed away. Derek, my Internet Explorer isn’t working. Please please please give me flowers!” And what do I get??!? A big pile of nothing.

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Derek and my mom, opening night of my play. Note that my mom got me flowers. Thanks for nothing, Derek.[4]

THE END

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[1]You: Gee, isn’t this pretty mean-spirited? I mean, why would you write something like this? I just don’t get you sometimes.

Me: I could sit and bore you about all the things that make Derek great, but it would take forever and everyone would be rolling their eyes and throwing up into their Max Vibes. You’ll note my list of dislikes is tellingly short. That’s because Derek, like Mary Poppins, is practically perfect in every way.

[2]Guys, guys, obviously he can read. It’s called “hyperbole.” Did you just like not finish junior high or something?

[3] Scene: Derek and I looking at a dictionary as he pathetically tries to argue that his pronunciation is correct.

Derek: See? Lith. A joint, segment , or symmetrical part or division. That’s what I was saying.

Me: Bullshit.

[4]Derek: Actually, I have given you flowers on a number of occasions, probably like 3 or 4 times. And I’m pretty sure I did give you flowers when you were in the play.

Me: Not enough. You should be showering me with flowers on a biweekly basis.

Derek: Well, maybe if you started showering on a biweekly basis, you’d get more flowers!

Me: Psha.


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