It's a Girl Thing, Life & Other Drugs, On "The Hill"

My Stream of Consciousness While A CS Bro Talks about Their Potential Internship

November 30, 2017

Hmm. Hmmmm. Coding. Money. Uh huh. Your mom knows a guy. They went to Princeton together. I bet they fucked at some point. Yep. Flying into the city for a day to interview? Stressful. Seems like you are kinda flaunting the inherent social capital of knowing about this gig through your parent’s connection. Mhmm. Mhm.

…I bet Chrissy Teigen smells like bergamot. Unique. Fresh as hell. Pungent enough to be smelled without being intrusive. She’s great. Should I buy her cookbook for someone as a holiday gift? I don’t particularly know who would want it more than any other thing, but I want to support her.

Wow, this shit is paid? Dope. Good for you. Not that you need it, I saw that you had racks in your Bear Bucks account when you paid me back via a vending machine swipe for peanut butter crackers. But! Good! For! You!

Why is it that some musicians make better Christmas-music than their music-music? Like Pentatonix. Lord knows I’m not listening to them before December, but their Xmas album hits the fucking spot. But they also covered a music-music song on that album?? Like, they put an indie-pop song on a Christmas album because it has choral elements? The Fleet Foxes spot about strawberries and heads lying in the snow, White Winter Hymnal? But now that I think about it, decapitation is a pretty Big Mood at family Christmas ever since Aunt Lisa read Ayn Rand in her book club for menopausal women and can’t shut her LipSense-coated-pie hole about fiscal conservatism.

Speaking of fiscal conservatism, the way you are talking about this tech startup as if its going to clear my skin and earn me 10,000 bells in Animal Crossing Pocket Camp makes me feel like you own an Apple watch. Like, you aren’t wearing it right now, but if I squint hard enough, I can barely make out an inch-wide tan line circumnavigating your wrist. I bet you wore the Apple watch (you know, the one you aren’t wearing now but that you definitely have) while you were in Spain this summer with your family, eating ham and yucking it up in open air plazas. Grathias, inherited wealth.

Oh shoot, did you just notice me squinting at your wrist? How can I play this off? Okay, rubbing eyes to show that my eyes are just tired or that I might have a touch of astigmatism. I think you bought it, because you’re still talking about how close your work would be to Central Park. You don’t even like parks—yeah, I saw you hiss at that family of bunnies outside the SciLi one time—you just like that it’s there for the instas!

Wow, I must be angrier than I realized. I haven’t blinked for the last 42 seconds. I think I’ve forgotten how to blink. My eyes have been plastered open in indifference to what you are talking about. Look what you’ve done. My eyes will probably dry up, and become as parched as my tumble-weed, saguaro cactus, dry-ass bank account after paying my tuition for next semester. That’s right! I have to pay for my own tuition. Oh wait, I just blinked. Thank Gawd.

Oh yeah, you have to go? Off to the Sun Lab? Precious. Bye!!!!!!!

Image via Sarah Clapp.

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