New sunglasses, just in time for the blazing Denmark sun. Oh, wait …
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
First this Tweet at about 1 a.m.:
The truth is, I've been in a crazy love affair for almost five years. We have our ups & downs, but I can't imagine anything else. I <3> NYC.
Thanks for letting us know, Carrie Bradshaw. We've been waiting with bated breath.
And then there's this ... so fascinating. It's always thrilling when Jackles delves into biology and philosophy because she's such a towering intellect. "Plato ... wow ... just wow. Smart.com!"
Today, as part of a project I’m working on, I was asked to list my “favorite things.” I have to admit, at first I thought, “Oh, that’s so silly.” But as I sat there and brainstormed, I realized I was smiling. If we spent a bit more time thinking about what makes us happy instead of thinking about what makes us sad/upset/angry, I think … well - I think we’d be happier! (Duh.) Try it right now. Write out your list and send it to me. Or don’t send it to me! Just write it out. Do it now!
As my “Meet Me” says (and has for some time), I love conversation more than anything else in the world - specifically those encompassing sociology, biology, psychology, philosophy, architecture, media, technology, feminism, spirituality, personal growth and the absurd machinations between men & women otherwise known as “dating.”
Of course I adore my family, my shih-tzu Lilly and my girl friends … but the exercise was to brainstorm - no condescending judgments - everything that made me smile. My favorite things!
So let’s see … I love Twitter, the color pink, headbands, tutus, ballet, fleece pajamas, bubble baths, mascara which doesn’t lead to raccoon eyes, tennis gear as daywear, tech conferences, the tv shows Gossip Girl, 30 Rock, and The West Wing, the musician Justin Vernon (Bon Iver), that incredible tension-filled moment before a first kiss, 50s style fashion, the Lacoste alligator, 5 inch heels which don’t hurt, DVF, Betsey Johnson, Lilly Pulitzer & Oscar de la Renta, “Sunday check-in” voicemails from my dad, bathing suits which flatten my stomach and A-line skirts which cover my derriere, girls who wear ribbons in their hair, my iPhone, my MacBook Air, my Canon SD780IS, the blogging platform Tumblr, men who pop their pink polo shirt collars un-ironically, families who wear matching outfits in their Christmas card photos, spicy tuna rolls, 4 am, Starbucks hazelnut lattes, Martha Beck, PotteryBarn for Teens, chamois sheets, dresses as wall art, quilted Chanel bags, pearls, the silence that comes when it snows, flowers sent by boys, emails from my mom, and rap music. And I am absolutely obsessed with cupcakes.
I also don’t mind handwritten love letters, although no one has sent me one in years - except my Grandmother.
I love her, too.
And then she ends the night, at about 6 a.m., revealing the Jackles we all know and love -- making a thinly veiled swipe at someone and pulling out the old [REDACTED].
Me: Ew, he's just as douchebaggy as ever, btw. NOT THAT I SHOULD BE SURPRISED BY THAT.Any guesses? I'm thinking Forman, someone she's already bitterly called a douchebag on her blog before, in an exchange with Rambo, and then claimed it was "just a joke" between friends when called out on it by a TMI WeeklyShitShow commenter.
Friend: Sigh. I disengaged a long time ago. It's hard to reconcile the [redacted] you know to the public [redacted]
Me: If I could drop kick him off a bridge ...
Friend: I wish he would move away.
Me: That's the biggest problem with him. He's like a fucking fungus. HE. WILL. NOT. LEAVE.
Friend: It's getting worse too.
Me: Do they make a spray for assholes like him? A toxic man-disinfectant? A man-fectant?
Friend: I would buy that.
Monday, March 30, 2009
First Date Postmortem!So … I don’t usually do this, but I got the okay (actually, although he was fine with me sharing them, I’m going to keep his name and visage off, just in case. When it comes to the internet, I’ve learned that people don’t always know what they’re getting themselves into, and I’d rather error on the side of caution.)
Anyway! As those of you who read this little site know, I’ve been going on a lot of dates recently - at least one or two a week, when I’m in town. Most of them are pleasant enough, some turn into second or third dates, but no one’s made it past a third date since Ben - and that was last July!! (I say this to give you a bit of context.)
In any case, this wasn’t a blind date, exactly, because I had seen his Facebook profile (ah, modern love), but I had never met him in person. Actually, he emailed me sometime last year, maybe in the fall? I don’t really remember. Hmm. It may have been a facebook message, now that I think about it. In any case, I found myself glancing at his profile, which I thought was a parody, at first. Why? His CV sounds a bit … well … it’s ridiculous. Harvard undergrad (physics major), Cambridge masters (physics), Princeton phd (yep … physics), UChicago professor (guess?). Lest the whole “professor” thing throw you, he’s actually not much older than me, which makes him all the more impressive. Savant-like. I do love a man with a good education.
That said, most people with his background would be - how shall I put this? Uhhh … pretentious douchehats. From his writing, I could tell that wouldn’t be the case. He could banter (check!) and he had quite the sense of humor (check!). Plus, he was confidant and cute, in a nerdy way (check! check! check!). Nerd hot! You know I love that.
He was in the process of moving from Chicago to a nine month research stint in Japan, so he would be in New York for a week. “Multiple faculty at UChicago and assorted flagship state campuses have suggested that it is impossible you will go on a date with me. I suggest we challenge this at will; 7 pm, March 28, Fig and Olive?” (See complete exchange here.)
That was the exact right thing to email me: I love a good challenge.
Intrigued, I agreed to a date.
Of course - as you can see from the exchange - this was a few weeks ago, and as I have a memory like a rusty sieve, I only barely recalled our exchange at 5 pm - today. Yipes! Dinner at 7? In the East Village?? (after I scoffed at Fig & Olive, he had volleyed back with Hearth, on 12th Street. A decent choice, but pretty inconvenient, especially on a rainy Sunday.) I texted him around 6, asking if he wouldn’t mind moving it to 8 pm, and … um … on the Upper West side, maybe? He texted back that he wouldn’t (mind, that is).
At 7:30 it occurred to me that I wouldn’t be ready by 8. Could we move it to 8:30, I asked? We could, he texted back. At 8, still in my workout clothes at the gym (yes, the gym, people. I went there.), I texted him something along the lines of “Don’t kill me, but could we make it 9?” He told me later that he thought I wouldn’t bother showing up.
I did - show up, that is - around 9:15. I wouldn’t say I’m renowned for my time management skills, that’s for sure, but this was a bit egregious, even for me. I apologized profusely, and I think by the time he dropped me back at my place around 3:30 am, I had made up for it. But - yikes! What a terrible first impression.
In any case, since he’s not a New Yorker, I picked Blue Ribbon Sushi on 57th street, which is a safe, solid - but a bit boring, because I’ve been there quite a few times - choice. I didn’t have time to think of somewhere more creative!! (BTW, if anyone has a great sushi rec in the UWS, let me know!)
[Okay, now I remember why I don’t do postmortems, aside from the fact that most guys aren’t that into them … it takes so damn long! It’s almost 5:30 am and I’m exhausted. I really want to go to bed, but I haven’t even gotten to the good parts yet. Dammit!! Argh. I’m just going to speed this up a bit. Sorry.]
Super fast bullet point version:
- He was personable, charming, witty - and needless to say, intelligent. But most of the guys I date are intelligent; the difference with this one was his particular type (brand? ha) of intelligence. Much more academic than the guys I’ve been seeing in New York for the past five years. Reminded me a LOT of Dan.
- I enjoyed talking with him more than I expected to … not that I didn’t expect to enjoy it, I just got that feeling - which doesn’t happen THAT often - that I could talk to him for hours. Which is exactly what we did.
- Earlier that day, David Karp had texted me about doing dinner. I told him I was going on a date, but he should just stop by! I guess that’s a little unconventional for a first date, but I don’t really care about conventions. That said, when I got there, I did tell D to wait until after dessert. He ended up staying for about an hour and a half (he took this photo), until 12:30, when my date and I decided to “get a drink” at Whiskey Park on Central Park South. (I put “get a drink” in quotes because I didn’t drink any alcohol tonight. Although at one point - I think around 2:30 - my date said to me, “It’s amazing. I think you’re drunk on air.” Take that as you will.)
- Okay, so I clearly enjoyed the conversation enough to continue on, which I don’t normally. But I don’t want you to get the wrong idea: I wasn’t swooning. (No offense, date!) I just liked talking with him. It wasn’t that out of control feeling you get when you’re like, “OH MY GOD, I want to HAVE THIS MAN’S BABIES.” Or whatever. Ladies, you know what I mean. I’ve definitely gotten that feeling before (a few times) but not recently. Or even semi-recently. God. It’s been a long, long time, now that I think about it.
- Anyway! Whiskey Park closed at 2 am, and we still weren’t ready to call it a night. But it’s not like I was going to ask him to my apartment! So we decided to take a walk in Central Park, which, in retrospect, maybe wasn’t the smartest idea (??) I don’t know, I always feel ridiculously safe in New York, but there was NO ONE in that park. Seriously, we walked for an hour and didn’t see a single soul. NOT ONE PERSON. Do you know how crazy that is?? Eh. Whatever, alls well that ends without a mugging, right? (And aren’t Central Park muggings so 1992?) So. He *did* kiss me there, which was terribly romantic and carefree and reminded me of my younger self (my younger self was always doing terribly romantic and carefree things, or having terribly romantic and carefree things done to her. But my current self … well … that just doesn’t happen as often.) In any case, it was lovely. Mainly because for a few hours there, I forgot myself - and all of the stress in my life - and managed to live entirely in the moment.
- Around 3:30 am I started to get a bit delirious, and he walked me home and kissed me goodnight (sort of in front of my doorman. Awkward!).
This whole postmortem sounded a lot more giddy than I intended. It was a solid date, an enjoyable date, but don’t get me wrong: it’s not like he swept me off my feet! Here’s the most interesting part - I think it might have been such a good date because I KNEW he was moving to Japan next week, and it would never be more than just one date. Does that make sense? It took the pressure off. There was no need to think, “Where is this going?” It was just “Hey, you’re interesting! Let’s have a five hour chat and kiss at the end!”
I think more of us should view dates like that, instead of the way we usually look at them: excruciating auditions until we get to the “good stuff” (namely: the relationship).
I know - don’t ask me how, I just do - that I’ll be single for the foreseeable future. I’ll date, of course, but I doubt I’ll have an official boyfriend in the year 2009. It’s just something I sense, and my gut is pretty accurate. ;) That proclamation doesn’t come with a value judgment, honestly. It’s not that I don’t sometimes want to fall in love, but I’m very serious when I say that I’m pretty content, especially because being single allows me to spend as much time as I want - doing what I want - and then, a few times a month, go on dates like this!
Life is filled with such intriguing people. Honestly, it’s hard not to be excited when you think about it that way! (I know I sound so cheesy right now. I don’t care!)
And with that, good night to you all.
A couple of notable points here:
a. Jesus, who cares? Was this really necessary? Get. Over. Self.
b. Notice the lack of the push-up, padded bra here. This should silence the "she's had breast implants" crowd.
c. Mentioning The Eater Guy by his first name now. Interesting. A raised middle finger to his past stipulations, perhaps?
d. Again with the tacky bobby pins! Wow. Just wow.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Cupcakes, I confess that I’ve been AWOL and suffering from chronic JA fatigue. The weariness has zapped Baugher in the past and has also afflicted the original RBNS, although she remains the watchful overlord here. That fatigue sets in when one realizes that, like a leopard, Julia Allison will never change her spots, or her pink tutu from The Limited. She simply becomes more indefensible, more morally bankrupt, more self-defeating, more childish, and more blatantly unlikable as she heads into her 30s.
Not surprising that while I was away, our lady made public her desire for some very married men, made a fool out of herself at various conferences, attended a birthday party allegedly for herself in which her name was left off the cake, posed with a sleazebag celebrity professor, and found an ex-Doobie Brother to chase her across Manhattan in the hopes of hard cash. What a fool believes!
Since I am most tired of cleavage-struck males running to the former Ms. Baugher’s defense, whether they be “angry somewhat young man” Ian Spiegelman or the misguided jackass from the Davos piano bar who invited her to speak at Parsons because “women really want to hear Julia,” it’s time for another instalment from Julia’s Wonder Years. And yes, she makes a complete fool out of herself. Again. Sit back, cupcakes, have some juice — I know you don’t drink! — and enjoy.
It’s spring semester, 2004. I’ve now endured three classes with the most loathsome creature at the university, but she’s away a lot this term, turning in papers weeks late while allowing the level of classroom discourse to noticeably rise. Today, we’re not so fortunate. My media studies class and two classes from the history department are gathered together to hear Jim Bouton speak. I only know who Bouton is because I saw him the previous semester in my film noir class playing the villain in Robert Altman’s The Long Goodbye. Now, I don’t expect Julia to know what film noir is or why Robert Altman is important, but I did expect that she’d be courteous around a genuine baseball legend. Being no baseball fan myself, I learned from my dad that Bouton had played professionally and written an infamous memoir entitled Ball Four back in the early 1970s. Forgive the terrible pun, but this man had been a heavy hitter.
There must have been about 200 students and faculty members crowded into a large classroom for Bouton’s talk. He spoke of baseball, working in film and television, the steroid scandal, and his political causes. The man was articulate, smart, never boring, and the room was most interested.
About 20 minutes into Bouton’s talk, I heard movement and tittering around Julia, who was seated two rows directly in front of me. I moved up to see what the minor commotion was and had to suppress a laugh. Julia was cutting pictures of banal celebrities out of supermarket rags and pasting them into a scrapbook. Like an 11-year-old back in Dubuque. And unlike her then-idol, Paris Hilton, Bouton had never fucked on videotape and could form a sentence using more than three words. But why bother listening when it was cut-and-paste time?!
The looks of shock and finger-pointing were priceless, and one of the history professors moved in to discover what the commotion was about. When the prof saw Julia, seemingly oblivious, in her heavily made-up face, her age-inappropriate clothing, and cutting the likes of Demi Moore out of Us Magazine, a look of recognition appeared in his eyes. He must have realized that this creature wasn’t a student at Georgetown at all. Perhaps she had come with Bouton or one of the other students had brought her to classes for the day, for Julia was clearly “special” in this professor’s eyes. And he backed away, shaking his head sadly.
Next time: Julia ruins children’s literature for the entire class!
Contributed by Jack The Bulldog
NSFW … magnification at work.
These are infamous “plaster vulvas” on (in?) Nouriel Roubini’s condo walls. I wouldn’t have noticed them except that, well, they’re infamous. And everyone at the party was talking about them. Because that’s sort of what happens when you have … uh … infamous vaginas in (on?) your walls.
Roubini is awesome, though. If you talked with him, you’d never even know he had vaginas on/in his walls!
(trying to breathe. laughing too hard.)
But seriously, the wall vaginas are art, people. ART! And ART CAN BE ANYTHING! So there.
With Dr. Doom himself!
He’s actually the most cheerful, kindest person - you’d never guess his bearish economic perspective from his friendly countenance.
OMG, PEOPLES!! She leave the pink princess shoebox castle at least long enough to fuck the economical stars and do the Blue Steel!! My new calf Ivanhoe is very impress!!! (Or maybe he just eat too much grass and need to do the Number Two.)
Also, sidenote to Poofy: You have one in your body, though you probs never stimulate it. GET. OVER. YOURSELF.
(This guy has vayinas on his walls. He sounds great!!!!!)
Saturday, March 28, 2009
maryrambin:Don't worry, Jules. The PMS will clear up soon and you can return to publicly humiliating her and telling strangers via e-mail that she's a bitch.Pre-prom pose with my partner in crime videographer. How cute is it that we match!
Maybe it’s PMS, but I’m getting a little weepy at these photos of Mary. I’m so proud of her, and she looks so beautiful.
I'm meant to be getting ready for Nouriel Roubini's birthday party, but instead I'm organizing my bathroom. Priorities, people!
She is smart, people! She is hanging out with a renowned economist who liked her tits in Davos!
Out of the hundreds of videos I've done in my little internet life, this is still my absolute, number one favorite.
Funny she chose to Tweet this, filmed by [REDACTED], that poor bastard, after putting up iJustine's little music video a few hours earlier. "SEE EVERYONE!! I CAN'T DO IT TOO!!! AND I AM HOTTER!!! I AM SO SKINNY AND HOT HERE!!!!"
EDS note: I have tried many times to watch this through to the end. It is so cringingly embarrassing, so painful to watch for even one minute, that I have never been able to get there.
My internet accounts: 3 Vimeo, 1 Viddler, 2 YouTube, 4 Twitter, 1 Flickr, 3 Facebook, 4 Tumblrs, 2 Moveable Type. Dizzy just typing that. :(
She could, um, read a book? Or watch AMERICAN IDOL (gymnast who can suck his own penis while singing in a falsetto is about to win the Russian one).
Or shut it. Yeah, she could shut it.
She could also move to a small island somewhere and learn the benefits of mating geese like I am doing and just SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP.
I just say.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Julia: Wishing She'd Thought to Put a Trendy, Techy Small i in Front of Her Name Before This Blonde Beeyotch Did
I assume you’ve heard of Justine, a prolific (and very talented, in my opinion) video blogger. So, I’m genuinely curious. What do you think of this video specifically, or her in general?
Does it bug you that it’s clearly sponsored? Or does that not matter? I’m torn. I want to promote products I genuinely believe in, but this raises the whole - well, let’s just call it the McDonald’s McFlurry dilemma. I sat there wondering whether Justine actually uses/likes that camera, and even though I have no proof either way (she wrote an entire post on it here), my mind said “Of course she doesn’t.” But that’s not fair - maybe she does! Just like maybe the McDonalds McFlurry *IS* the best dessert in the history of the world. But … how can we believe them? Not to mention, it’s one thing with $3 of sugar, and quite another when you’re talking about a $200 cell phone or a $400 camera or a $1800 laptop.
How do you maintain trust with your audience and still make a living? Hmmm.
So, I’ve lived in my tiny “pink palace” since October of 2007, and I’m starting to think about the next steps: namely - moving somewhere where I can own, say … a couch. A girl’s gotta dream.
Things I love about my apartment:
1) It’s brand new, so it never feels dirty, even when it is.
2) It has a balcony. The balcony was under construction for the first 17 months, but it has one.
3) It has a washer/dryer, with which I am obsessed.
4) It has the biggest bathtub in the entire city of New York. The bathtub is the size of most people’s cars. It is obscene and I love it.
5) There is a gym in the basement which is small, but no one’s ever there, so I can do crazy dance moves while pretending I’m Britney Spears on tour. You know. Hypothetically.
6) The doormen are really, really nice.
7) Lilly is welcome here.
8) It’s totally silent. I never hear ANYTHING through the windows.
9) My downstairs neighbors Georgie & John are super sweet, and they love watching Lilly when I travel. I’m not a neurotic mommy because I trust them so much.
10) There is a health food store two blocks away!! I couldn’t live without them!
11) Central Park is five blocks away!
12) It’s all mine.
So … there are a lot of really great things about my apartment.
The one negative?
It’s. so. goddamn. small.
And totally awkward when people come over. It feels like they’re walking into your bedroom. Because they are.
Plus, it’s expensive. I probably shell out close to $2800 by the time all is paid for (rent, cable, electricity). That’s just … a lot.
So my longtime girl friend Judy & I are thinking of moving in together. We were 7th grade science partners, 10th grade debate partners and stayed friends over the past decade, as she accumulated degrees in various regions of the country (Johns Hopkins, London School of Economics, now Columbia Law) the way other people accumulate shoes. She’s graduating in May, and although we both live alone now, we were thinking it might be nice to see how far our respective rent budgets could get us in this new economy (yes, the rents are actually FALLING here in Manhattan). Besides, we admitted to each other … it might be nice to have someone to watch Gossip Girl with … :)
I told her that as long as she’s okay with tutus hanging from the ceiling, it’s a deal.
This is a girl who once had an apartment with a wall painted entirely orange, so I think she might be fine with it.
We probably won’t be able to move until September, realistically, unless we find subletters for both of our places, in which case we would move in May.
In the meantime … the search begins.
Looks like poor Brother Britt spoke too soon:
@MattWhiteMusic is adorable, isn't he?
Followed by that creepy:
:)... which is generally an attempt to remind the world how FREAKING. HAPPY. she is, or to suggest she might have allowed someone to get to second base. Gross.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Oh thank the stars above. It appears my prayers have been answered. Mother and Father will be so pleased, as will the exorcist we've had waiting in the wings. It appears Julia is, in fact, capable of the odd act of discretion.
On Mar 26, 2009, at 8:45 PM, Kate Jabs wrote:
Did Kevin Rose go with you to get your tattoo? Thanks Kate
From: Julia Allison <firstname.lastname@example.org>
To: Kate Jabs
Sent: Thursday, March 26, 2009 7:57:11 PM
Subject: Re: Tattoo Video
I'm sorry, that's private. I'm sure you understand.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
It’s unreal how hot this cover is. UNREAL.
Okay, peoples, so I no Dr. Freud, but this post make my little cat Galenka vomit up fur ball from shaking her head so much in awe at the layers of the meaning.
a) It is penis, but not penis.
b) It is fattening food, but Poofy can no have fattening food since she want to lose the weights.
c) It is FOOD in generality, but Poofy no have FOOD because she vomit all day.
d) Does she mean say that FOOD is fake penis? But she can no have? And maybe the other one can have with her someday in fantasy version of life, if they both had FAKE PENIS FOOD together?
e) It is about GIRL WHO GOSSIPS, and we know that Poofy dress in pretend version of that at Rangers game last night (WHAA?).
f) I can go on, but it time to put lamb penis in lamb vayina and hope they make the little lambs. Also, I work on my application to Long Island University. (Cross fingers!!!!!!!!)
Get your sweat on!!
A reader wrote me today saying she had been doing cardio for a week, but couldn’t see any changes in her body.
After not working out for a while and then doing cardio, I can’t imagine there isn’t a slight change.
But as I was dripping in sweat on the stairmaster this morning, I checked out the women around me. Some were pretty intense. Others were walking or climbing slowly - which is fine - but you need to break a sweat. If you’re not sweating, you’re not working.
This is a fun snarky blog, no? Meant to be a source of mirthful snark aimed at an attention junkie who expects only fawning attention despite her litany of daily assaults on the Internet.
We'd like our comments to stay focused on the subject at hand.
Recently, always at around the 50-comment mark, they seem to devolve into ridiculously embarrassing commenter-on-commenter sock puppet wars that are sending readers fleeing or prompting them to e-mail us to beg for executions.
This isn't Gawker Media; we can't do executions. But we are going to start killing out comments every time they contort into shrieking skirmishes that have absolutely nothing to do with the subject at hand. That includes the first person to weigh in on this thread to blame any other commenter for the madness.
Much like Jackles has made Rambo seem like a classy, dignified and intelligent blogger by comparison, all these threadjacks do is make our utterly lunatic subject appear utterly sane by comparison. That's saying something, and I would hope that's not anyone's intent.
Thanks for your understanding.
I always find it unsettling -- actually, no, quite sick-making -- when Jackles tries to leave thousands of strangers with the impression that she's either just been laid or she's used one of her many, previously boasted-about vibrators again. She and John Mayer = Twitter match made in heaven.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
On Mar 23, 2009, at 6:46 PM, [REDACTED] wrote:Just a reminder, folks ... this woman is NICE!! She is SUPER-LOYAL to her friends! Meghan and Mary are her BFFs, she LOVES them, they are her SISTERS! That's why it's a-OK to publicly assail one of them and to do it in e-mail to a stranger as well. She is NICE, do you understand??!??!??!? She is retardedly nice!
hi! I think your post about mary's comments about the great lakes is incredibly rude and mean.
what are we as readers supposed to think when you want us to believe you're nice but then you go ahead and post something like that?
and, when you commented at SXSW about girl on girl hostility on the internet, i didn't think your point was that you are the most flagrant displayer of such actions--what are we readers supposed to take away from that sequence of events?
I'd love an honest answer because I am sersiously confused. Thanks
From: Julia Allison <Julia@nonsociety.com>
Date: Tue, Mar 24, 2009 at 3:52 AM
Subject: Re: chicago comment
I hear you, [REDACTED]. But so you know where I'm coming from: Mary crossed the line one too many times with me, and frankly, I was tired of it.
I don't know what to tell you. I'm human. Her attitude really pissed me off and I didn't want to pretend otherwise. That felt disingenuous to me. When I say good things, they're not fake. If I hadn't said anything, that might have been better, but it wouldn't have been telling the truth.
There is another "Chat With an Insomniac" or whatever the hell it's called that goes on for almost six minutes about her weight. Apparently Jackles has gained 10 pounds and, as usual, it's like she's the first person this has ever happened to. She is at a loss as to what to do about it and asks readers, once again, to send tips. Here's a tip, Jackles: Eat less, exercise more.
Monday, March 23, 2009
WTF, peoples? This is serious one of the weirdest things I ever do see.
Is Poofy drunk? What is to be the meaning of the odd little dance she do in empty storefront? Also, as for the giveaway of the laptop... when she become "The Prices Are Right?"
I prefer new car.
Parsons 15 minutes before the lecture.
I certainly hope the lecture to this teeming throng of fascinated looking students focuses on Girl-on-Girl Internet Crime, Jackles's latest cause now that she's put headbands and cupcakes aside for a bit.
I envision it might go something like this:
"Women are so awful to each other on the Internet. It really has to stop. We women need to stick together and be supportive of one another! Seriously, guys! We really owe it to each other as women! Except for when some skinny blonde bitch rains on my parade by leaving my crap ego-blogging company. Because I will SHANK that bitch. And I will do it on the Internet! Because it's NOT okay when people say nasty things about me on the Internet, but is IS okay for me to publicly humiliate my BFF, my `sister' and my business partner many, many times over on the Internet. Because even though she's a woman, she's a BITCH! And I am super-nice!"
But in any event, hey, that REALLY NICE woman decides to publicly point out that Rambo is an idiot.
Check out the part where Mary doesn’t realize that Chicago is on Lake Michigan, and then asks, about the Great Lakes, “aren’t there like three of them you’re not allowed to go in because they’re polluted?” Um. No. You can pretty much drink Lake Michigan.
I’m only mentioning this because it’s not merely that she had never been to Chicago (despite my repeated invitations) but that she didn’t even want to talk about it as an amazing vacation destination in the U.S. That pissed me off. Don’t ever diss a girl’s hometown, you know?
This is such a smart, shifting-paradigm-y business practice! Declare war publicly, once again, on your business partner! Don't take it up with her privately, or edit out what offended you, oh no no no no! That's so old school! Wait til the segment goes up, and then point out to the world what a dumb "cranky bitch" your business partner/sister/BFF is once again.
She's so nice, people! She is SO nice! She's NOT a mean girl! You can say a lot of things about her, people, but she's not mean!! No!! She's really, really nice!!!
Jackles, if you like Chicago so much, seriously, can't you go back? For good?
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Mar 22 12:57 pm:
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Jackles also started up another Twitter account, twitter.com/julia, because one ridiculous string of vapid status updates and pleas for Ashton Kutcher and John Mayer to pay. attention. to. her. dammit. isn't enough, I guess. Psssssttt: Jackles! Ashton is still going to know it's you! He's been warned! So has John Mayer!!
Awake at 7:26 am on a Sunday morning. Can't say this happens often! Off to MSNBC in an hour.
20 minutes ago from web
OMG, I up too!
I feed the chickens and pick up pig poop and give the goats the anal exam thing. What you do?
Oh yeah, you probably go on talk show with too much makeup and bray about something that makes my fox Ivan's ears bleed.
You so predictable, Poofy.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
I have to say, I was a LITTLE embarrassed when I woke up this morning (ish), the way you might be after you got drunk and said something super vulnerable to your boyfriend and you sort of wish you hadn’t? Yeah.
To all of the readers who emailed me, thank you. Seriously. The truth is, I’m a really happy person, a solid 90% of the time. I think that comes across. I’m a normal person, though, so that also has its ups and downs - which are exacerbated by the judgments of people who don’t know me, don’t care to know me, and probably never will.
So the decision I’ve made - subject to change, just like every other decision I’ve ever made - is to more or less put those people on mute. I looked one last time at the site I referred to, because I was sent an email that the responses to my video would “hearten” me. Well, they didn’t. They were just as cruel as I’ve ever seen and - fuck, I’ll say it - evil. They were EVIL. If that’s how they react to me being as honest as I can be, then I’m done with them, as a group.
This website is for fun. DON’T TAKE IT SO SERIOUSLY. It isn’t all of me. It isn’t everything I do, everyone I see, every thought I have. I thought I would be able to record everything, and I can’t. It’s not physically possible. So these are snippits, glimpses. Ultimately it comes down to this: if you enjoy it, fantastic. If you don’t, I’m sorry I haven’t made you happy. I like making people happy. I wish I could make everyone happy. But - shocker! - I can’t.
And that’s just how it is.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, this lady has to go to the gym.
PS. I *will* continue those videos - because I liked doing them.
PPS. To the one reader who said I “faked” needing glasses? HAHAHAHA oh lord. I wish! I’m legally blind, actually. -12 in one eye, -11 in the other. So. No. Those were my real glasses. :)
Jackles, some advice from The Evils:
Get a sleeping pill. Seriously. Lack of sleep always makes people feel their problems are much bigger than they are, and always prompts them to behave in ways that end up being embarrassing. We are simply people -- Tumblr people, most of us -- who don't like the product you are selling, including the titty shots, the Blue Steel, the kissy faces, the invasions of other people's privacy, the rampant narcissism. You can either retool the product or ignore the complaints. If I were you, I'd get a sleeping pill prescription and ignore the complaints because you don't want to retool your product, you just want people to stop complaining about it.
Sleep well, Toodles, and same to you: DON'T TAKE IT SO SERIOUSLY!
Okay. Here it is. I’m wearing absolutely no makeup. I have glasses on. I’m in my PJs. I’m talking honestly. And this feels very, very vulnerable to me.
But it also feels really good. Really … real. Comfortable. This is the Julia I am with my friends. Well. When I’m calm (that’s not always the case). Most people have more than one “side” of their personality, and I’m - clearly - no different.
I’d like to continue these talks - on an occasional basis (I’m not stupid enough to promise I’ll do them every night), if you like them.
I can’t read the comments - as I said in the video, they’re just too much for me. But I will read your emails. And I’ll respond, or try to, at least, on here.
Thank you for coming along with me on this little experiment. I think it will make me happier. And I hope you enjoy them.
I'll admit it. Jackles got to us, although she is TRYING to get to us. We feel bad. But we remain perplexed. On a day when she's crying victim about how mean her critics are to her, she writes on her blog that the episode that was clearly the idea of one of her supposed best friends and business partners -- exercise -- was boring. Now that's classy, to publicly take a swipe at your friend for what, the third or fourth time in the last few weeks? It seems an odd time to play the victim card about being criticized.
As some smart commenter mentioned earlier this week, we are simply Jon Stewart to Jackles's Jim Cramer. For years she's put a product out there for multi-platform, mass consumption, and those she's reached find that product seriously faulty. She desperately wants attention, but only positive attention, despite endless evidence of dishonesty, self-obsession, and passive-aggressive nastiness towards friends and associates.
We're sorry, Jackles, that you feel bad. But rather than shoot the messenger, just examine your product and all the complaints about it and fix it. We aren't the first people who haven't liked what you're selling -- remember Bravo? How about Star and TONY? Just like the Cramer-Stewart feud, Stewart wasn't the problem. Cramer, and the horseshit he was peddling, was the problem.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
At Eleni’s in the Chelsea market
She also eat heaping plates of air and then drink bottles of liquid that make salamanders come out her pooper every 10 ten days.
Here is what I put in my mouth:
Oh, and also:
This not about weight. I have junk in trunk. This about body abuse and acting like crazy eater person. Does Poofy REALLY want to go on insane cupcake/poop juice diet, even if it make her organs become nutso loonball and her lower intestine petition to be transplant to her neighbor Rosie McDonald?
I go eat cow hooves now.
Firstly, to borrow a Jackles-ism .... Duh. Just duh.
Secondly, why would you want to constantly advertise to your 800,000 unique visitors a week or whatever her latest utter fabrication was that you have NO ideas and can't EVER think up anything on your own? If you're a potential investor watching NonSociety, is that going to be impressive?
We’re changing the intro to TMIweekly and I’m curious - what do you think it should be like? Any web shows - or tv shows (Um, personally, I’m obsessed with The City’s intro) - we should look at as a model?
Email me with a really great idea or links to great ideas - or even better! - a fake new intro - and I’ll send you a prize. Seriously. I am not above bribery.
And it looks like even her real-life friends and associates are trying to let Jackles know she's out of her mind.Someone told me I didn’t know “who I was” today. I’m not sure what to make of that, exactly. I think I’m many things - and sometimes those things change. Who I was five years ago, five months ago, five days ago isn’t necessarily who I am now. Why should it be?
It always bothers me that it’s perfectly acceptable to criticize politicians for “flip-flopping.” You mean taking in new information and altering one’s views accordingly? You mean allowing your life experiences to change your future behavior? You mean learning?
Human beings are inherently inconsistent - our thoughts, our feelings, the way we relate to others changes constantly - and yet, “inconsistency” remains a largely pejorative term. Why?
Perhaps I’m more inconsistent than most. I posted something today about being “in the mood for a boyfriend,” which made me laugh, because I usually don’t feel that way. I assume that’s not confusing for my readers, because they understand that sort of thing changes from day to day. I’d be lying if I said that what I want in general doesn’t also change on a (nearly) daily basis. One day I love New York and never want to leave. The next I want to go to business school. The next I want to take the summer and live in Chicago. And so on, and so on. I’ve always been like this. Lots of life paths: some happen, some don’t. Eventually it all works out, so I’ve never really worried too much about it.
I do feel that I’m at a turning point right now, and I’m actively searching for the answer to what really makes me happy. But here’s what keeps tripping me up: there are elements of what makes me happy in a lot of things which don’t make me happy. Additionally, some things which make me happy only make me happy in small doses. Does that make sense?
I suppose what I’m trying to say is that “knowing who you are,” isn’t a set conclusion you come to, the way you write up a mission statement for a company, like “Don’t be evil.” Or … hmmm. Maybe it is?
UPDATE: Sorry, I can't believe I missed this gem from last night.
JA has a history of surprising interviewers with her SUPER niceness.
Jackles, remember when you sent us e-mails this week and posted your letter to us on your blog, expressing an inability to understand why we don't like you? THIS is why we don't like you. It's not too difficult to be a fawning fake in a 20-minute interview, for one thing -- I've seen it a lot in the course of my career. But to post this with a [REDACTED]? What is wrong with you? Seriously. Next time you're asking yourself: "Why doesn't anybody like me?" just go back to this post. It's because you're a ridiculous fool.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Uh-oh -- her frenemy did rub off on her ... oh dear. That's not good. However, I see no sign yet of the Blue Steel or the kissy face. Let's give her a chance and hope to hell she remembers to use spellcheck.
Here's a shot of our girls in happier times. Notice the empty juice bottles! The friends that fast together, stay together .... errrrr ... maybe not. (An aside -- is anyone else curious as to why Jackles's constant fasting seems to be having the opposite results? Just wondering. She looks more and more unhealthy every day.)
And speaking of unhealthy, I wonder how broad the smiles will be the next time they're all filming together?
Jackles has been Twitting/blogging up a storm today. Some Tweets:
"I just hope you understand: sometimes the clothes do not make the man."
I'm in the mood for a boyfriend right now.
The trouble is, it seems clear they're not in the mood for you. Except that Michael McDonald guy. I'd bet he'd be interested!
Once again! So subtle! What a clever donkey!
And from her blog, this: Yet. another. public. plea. for. ideas:
Hi there. So, I’m working on brainstorming TMIweekly show topics for our April 10 shoot, and I’d love your suggestions/imput.
2) Boxers or Briefs (the question that will. not. die.)
3) Wine episode (that was Mary’s idea)
4) Watching sports with guys (also Mary’s idea. I refuse to watch sports with guys, girls, dogs. I do not watch sports.)
5) What does Quality of Life mean to you?
6) Quarter life crisis
Email me with what YOU’D like to see us talk about!!
Quarter-life crisis ... that's a good one. Why, Jackles? Because the Internet is ruining your life? Were there any campus shrinks at Long Island University who might have provided some counsel on personal responsibility? Perhaps they have some alumni counselling services. Give it a try, and be sure to show your tattoo! You might get a discount!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Oh Poofy! It make me so sad that I cannot have boozetimes with you and teach you ab exercises that involve holding large glass bottles of milk over head while you do the crunch, but I have VERY. BUSY. SPRING. AHEAD. Also, I am in Omsk, and Virgin not fly to/from my village (for free or otherwise).
Just so we on same page? You post your schedule. I post mine.
March 21-22: Remove testicles from goat herd (see photo). Make soup.
March 27 (twenty minutes): Go to Omsk fashion week. Sit in front row and ogle smocks made from potato sacks. Take photos with my camera phone that is from 1967 (Russia smart like that!).
April 2: Get injections in my left eye from local veterinarian. Squint oddly for week.
April 9: Get permanent tattoo on my wrist that read "UOP" (University of Pereslavl).
April 12: Clean up month's worth of poo from my dog Lidija that is on living room floor. Or maybe no. After all, I LIVE DIFFERENTLY!!!!
Date: March 17, 2009 12:57:20 PM EDT
To: [redacted website which just isn’t that into me]
I’m not sure what the proper protocol is for inviting people who despise me out to coffee (although I’m sure you’ll let me know if there is, in fact, a precedent in this situation). It’s a bit awkward, but I’ll be very honest: I think it’s time to meet.
It’s clear that there are more than a few misconceptions about me - a divide between who I am and what I project - and, frankly, I’d like your advice. Why is it you hate me so much?
Maybe this is a stupid idea, but I figure it can’t be worse than what you already think about me, right?
I’ll answer any question you have, and you can make your own - IRL! I just used that acronym and I sort of hate myself for it! - impressions.
Now, given, I don’t know where you live, and perhaps you don’t want to meet me. But perhaps one of your readers/commenters does. And then they could tell all of you exactly how fat/bloated/botoxed I am, really.
So - if you’ll extend this invitation to your readers, I would be much obliged.
I will buy anyone who has the balls to meet me in person in New York at least two beverages of their choice. Coffee, wine, tequila … blueprint cleanse? Blueprint cleanse with vodka? Whatever you want.
I only ask one thing: you give me a chance.
founder // nonsociety.com
Oh Jackles. Remember you tried this on Gawker? That was when you outed [REDACTED]'s mental health issues.
We are all over the place, in many different cities and countries. I am not sure Russian Girl can afford the airfare from Omsk.
But really? You want to have a hearing with us? Just go into our comments section. We'd all be happy to hear from you and to run down for you in great detail all the many hundreds of ways in which you -- just you, not the Internet, not Gawker, not [REDACTED] or [REDACTED] or [REDACTED] -- are doing everything wrong and have all by yourself, with no help from anyone, made yourself one of the most unlikeable Web personalities in existence.
Tipsters who have been in touch with Rambo confirm that, indeed, she is leaving NonSociety. But she will still be blogging! I am assuming she will no longer be blogging under the NonSociety banner.
Which is SUCH a shame, really. It is such a well-designed website! So pleasing to the eye! And those 1,392 different horizontal scroll bars -- so user-friendly!
Rambo? Three words: VERTICAL FUCKING SCROLLING! And one more word! SPELL-FUCKING-CHECK!
And another little bit of advice. Dish a bit on Jackles, will you? Even if you have to do some kind of [REDACTED], Russian Girl kind of schticky thing. Dish a bit on Jackles and the bullshit you tolerated from her and you will soon amass a large and loyal readership.
I would like to theorize that the beginning of the end for Rambo was the Vivienne Westwood dress tantrum thrown by Jackles. A seemingly in-the-know RBNS commenter said Megs was originally sympathetic to Mary, then turned and joined Team Jackles when Mary posted the video of herself looking hot in the dress that "Julia hated." Megs apparently felt Mary was just exacerbating the situation, yet another Jackles enabler keen to protect her from the well-deserved wrath that results from her foot-stomping narcissistic behavior. The relationship between the three has never seemed to recover from that and why? Because Princess Jill from Long Island University had to wear a dress that didn't accentuate her hooters. Poor dittums!
Monday, March 16, 2009
Okay, so this photo was snap today at South Times South West.
I sorry, WHAT?
Has Yulia been going to gym and doing the hammer curls with the dumbbells and not tell us? Or is this poof and beginnings of what they call "ham arms." I site:
When a person's arms are so fat it looks like there are hams hanging off of them. Usually a female.
I no snark, I just say. Poofy, if you read this. STEP. AWAY. FROM. CUPCAKES.
And whatever you do, do not sock me with your Popeye biceps*.
*Except they probably fat.
Meanwhile, back on the home front!
Oh man. Couldn’t you just eat him up?
That’s Lilly’s pink toy next to him. He claimed all of her toys as soon as she arrived.
No more dog photos. For at least an hour. Promise.
Odd that Jackles posted this without mentioning that poor, abandoned Lily has been shitting all over this woman's apartment for days.
Is the dog not trained? Does Jackles never take her out? Does she live among dog shit? A stinky pink princess palace?
Or is the dog traumatized at being left alone and dumped on people all the time? In any event, it's time for mommy Baugher to reclaim that poor dog, no?
Once again, I am forced to explain my sister's antics to the outside world. Mother is beside herself and has sent along the Huffington Post article and the Zappos video, and continues to worry about Julia's Botox bloat during her long strolls along the rugged shores of Lake Michigan. Father is once more lamenting the shame being brought upon our family name. Today's litany of attention-seeking behavior is almost as humiliating as when Julia revealed Grandmama has not spoken to mother in 30 years. Some things should remain private. Like bowel movements and annual income.
The University Club's Steering Committee has renewed its queries today about Julia's true parentage, as has Mother's bridge club. Sometimes I wonder if a dreadful mistake was made, and if Father should perhaps be collecting DNA samples for analysis.
And can anyone figure out what this guy's "coitus with Kevin Rose" lead even means? What is he on about? Is he making reference to Jackles's veiled threat to bed Rose on the TMI Weekly sexytimes video? What the hell is he talking about?
I feel sorry for Kevin Rose getting dragged into this fame vampire's bloodsucking fame fantasy when he clearly wants nothing to do with her.
But she's sticking with TMI Weekly. So let me get this straight -- she doesn't want to blog with this lunatic any longer -- remember when she was asking for suggestions for a new blog name ... makes sense now -- but she's still going to appear in those ridiculous TMI Weekly segments in which Jackles brays like an attention-starved, game-playing donkey and lies through her teeth about everything from recipes to the number of men in her life who have absolutely no emotional control over her.
juliaallison: What does "Quality of Life" mean to you?
I'm going to go with living a life of dignity without feeling a need to share my every move and thought (or lack of thought) with thousands of strangers along with endless kissy-face Blue Steel titty shots and the occasional glimpses of true petty, stalker-y nastiness and a willingness to sell out friends, even those sick with cancer, in order to justify being lazy, thoughtless and rude, oh, and also, to know when the time has long past that I can get away with pleated tennis skirts and Barbie frocks and headbands and pretty pink princess palaces and other trappings that have a very limited "cute" shelf life that expires at about the age of 17. Oh yes -- and having a fucking clue about at least one thing in life and not pretending that I am far smarter and more connected and more fabulous than I really am. And oh yeah -- to stop stalking Ashton Kutcher.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Exhausted. Rebooting (via a nap) at Hilton.
26 minutes ago from txt
I hope she remember: The babies no go away.
Just ask my donkey Agnessa. She hate the burden of the baby late in life.
Oh, wait, Poofy only go to 17th base. My bad one.
What the hell is going on?? I am so confused! The world is all upset down!
I can’t tell you how many people ask me how we make money with NonSociety. It’s the third question after “What’s your name?” and “What do you do?”.
Let me back up for a second. On March 28, the first annual Streamy Awards will take place in Los Angeles. Think the Emmy Awards for original online video content. In my opinion, this is the second step in legitimizing the production of shows only broadcast online. The first step being money, the big bucks, that ole bottom line.
How can we generate a substantial revenue with videos on the Internet? Certainly it must be easier than tv because the production is cheaper, the videos are non-proprietary and easily distributed for maximum exposure, and the views are quantifiable. None of this is true for television. Even cheap reality tv.
Let’s break this down:
- Production: The Internet audience doesn’t demand high quality for original online content. It just needs to be entertaining. So why are people pouring six figures into online series (Dr. Horrible by Joss Whedon) when you can spend less than half that and be just as popular?
- Duration: Ah ha. Entertainment is a pretty big variable. DiggNation can last up to 45 minutes of 2 guys chatting and drinking beer. BlahGirls episodes are less than a minute. TMIweekly is 5 minutes. What is the true attention span of our audience and does production value influence their decision to click away?
- Cast: To celebrity or not to celebrity? This question weighs heavy on that bottom line. But then again, if you use an A-lister, can you skimp on the production value? Do web celebs count? Can we build more Tila Tequila’s? Let’s be honest, can we really consider iJustine and Kevin Rose celebrities?
- Scripted v. Reality: With the decline in episodic comedies and dramas on television, does that mean the Internet should follow suit? Screw tv, look at YouTube. Millions of people tune in to watch other people do anything and everything. Perhaps a happy medium is the answer. I think people want to see others being genuine and giving real reactions to situations.
- Money: As fun as it is, we can’t just make videos to brag about being on the cutting edge of digital media. Advertisers and sponsors have to come onboard to fuel your fire. But with their head in the traditional tv/print campaign model, how do we convince them the Internet is where the cool kids hang out. The fact that they could spend a fraction of their tv budget by investing in Internet video doesn’t seem to be convincing enough all the time. There’s a debate here because viewers don’t always click through to the brand’s site, so what’s the value of associating their brand with the content? How do you sell promoting their brand image instead of quantifiable sales?
Here’s my answer: I think the key to web video is creating all different formats that can exist together. Create a show with a relatively high production value with approachable characters or personas. Have these people or actors make their own unedited videos so the audience gets to know and love them. Concurrently, short, edited videos should be shot with experts and celebs to show a different perspective in an entertaining way. Approach major brands with sponsorship packages that supplement their current traditional campaign (so they don’t get their panties in a bunch). Pitch brand awareness and your distribution channels (which should be any website that will have you). License the show to a major network to increase your eyeballs and the show’s value and revenue.
I could be wrong. In fact, the “professionals” would probably disagree with me. Today I watched Children’s Hospital(think Scrubs meets Grey’s Anatomy starring Lake Bell and Megan Mullaly) and Dr. Horrible(starring Neal Patrick Harris). Both are high-production value, long episodic comedies with big name celebs. I couldn’t stand either, but the critics LOVE them. Children’s Hospital is produced by the WB so sponsorship can be built into tv ad pitches, but Dr. Horrible is an independent production and self-funded by Joss Whedon (of Buffy The Vampire Slayer).
I was reading “Screenwriters Strike Back”on Variety.com which plays Dr. Horrible against Ask a Ninja. Whedon apparently spent six figures on three episodes of Dr. Horrible (to pay for celebs, backlot shooting, equipment, tv “sheen”, etc), while Ask A Ninja founders Kent Nichols and Douglas Sarine used $60,000 to launch a weekly show they continue to shoot out of Nichols’ apartment. Their show generates over $100,000 monthly with sponsors like Verizon, Universal, and Net Flix. Book deals are also in the works.
“According to digital ratings firm comScore, Internet users in the U.S. alone viewed 12 billion online vids in May, up 45% from May ‘07. The average user devoted 228 minutes per month to watching vids online,” says the article. But what are they watching and why? And how do we as content producers show the Ketchums and Edelmens of the world that sponsoring and advertising on web shows is worthwhile? What I really rant about are the Federateds who say we can’t secure the cash without them.
In my opinion, we’re here at the edge of the digital fronteir for online content. Several people have made the leap and reached the other side to bask in their Internet money. I’m in mid-air, and knowing me, I’ll come out alive :)
cheeky_geeky: Doing her best Georgetown student impression is @juliaallison at #sxsw: twitpic.com/24whm
mikeee: Just witnessed @juliaallison up close. She was quite rudely trying to get someone to move. Not a good first impression!
immunity: @mikeee thanks for having my back, literally vs. @juliaallisonabout 1 hour ago from TwitterBerry
cinevegas: @ajv and (of course) @juliaallison in attendance. AJ didn't get to sit up front while Julia got "back cuts" to get a seat in front. #sxsw