CollegeHumor: User 245's Articles

Ruminations #155: Thirty

Wed, 01 Jul 2009 15:00:00 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -The first day of freshman year, I sat in my dorm room as everyone else on the hall moved in. Each time I heard footsteps, I cocked my head to listen closely in the hope I could glean any evidence that my new neighbors were female, hot, and promiscuous. I was eighteen at the time and had never before felt such anticipation. Eleven days ago, as the last seconds of my twenties ticked away and I prepared to celebrate my thirtieth birthday, I can't say I felt the same level of excitement. I was both nostalgic and apprehensive. In fact, now that I'm thirty - wow, it's weird even saying that - I feel a bit self-conscious. Like the next time I get drunk before noon or bang a chick whose first name I'm fuzzy on, I'll somehow get reprimanded for behavior inappropriate for a thirtysomething. Even though I'm equidistant from both, I just feel a lot closer to twenty than I do to forty. Thirty gets a bad rap - but I'm not ready to give up the good life.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-07-01 15:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 15 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #154: Degree of Difficulty 2009

Thu, 28 May 2009 15:00:00 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Congratulations, Class of 2009, you've just received your college degrees! If I were you, by now I'd be sick of everyone telling me how this is the worst job market in a generation and that my graduation is coinciding with near-certain apocalypse. I feel your pain, though, having graduated in 2001 during the dot.com collapse. When I got back from spring break in Acapulco my senior year, I had a voicemail informing me that the division of the company where I had lined up a full-time job no longer existed. Not the kind of news you want to hear when you're hungover and sunburned. But fret not, my young apprentices, it's not all bad. In my annual address to the nation's graduates, I'd like to present you with some reasons why you'll fare better in the real world than you think. Or at least fare better than your gloomy douchebag commencement speaker thinks.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-05-28 15:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 22 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #153: Plastic Man

Tue, 12 May 2009 15:00:00 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -A recent article in Time Magazine stated that half of all college students have four or more credit cards. Four or more? That's fucking ridiculous. I'm twenty-nine and have one credit card. Why? Well, I simply did the research and calculated that it would be most beneficial if I accumulated all of my rewards points in one account. Actually, that's not true; I just really hate carrying a thick wallet. OK, that's not completely true, either. I also got burned so many times with free t-shirts that were XXXL and promotional towels as thin as paper that I finally stopped accepting all the credit card offers that were foisted my way. College kids be damned, I'm comfortable with my decision. Packing a single Amex (alongside a near-useless debit card), I stride confidently cashless through malls and bars. Call me crazy or, more accurately, call me Plastic Man.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-05-12 15:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 7 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #152: The Smaller Stuff

Tue, 28 Apr 2009 13:00:00 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Birthdays are a lot like New Year's Eve in that you make a lot of promises to yourself about turning over a new leaf, only to abandon your attempts at change a few weeks later. Of course, I have no ordinary birthday coming up. In 52 days, I'm turning thirty. Yeah, it's a big one. So while my time as a twentysomething is quickly running out, I've been considering several birthday resolutions, one of which is to be less grumpy. As I wrote in Ruminations #110, I tend to sweat the small stuff. Since that time, though, I've gotten a lot grumpier, and begun sweating even smaller stuff. The first step, as they say, is to admit you have a problem. But sometimes I wish "they" would just shut the fuck up.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-04-28 13:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 13 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #151: Spring Training

Tue, 31 Mar 2009 17:00:00 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Since the temperature varies so little in Los Angeles, sometimes I forget that seasons even exist. When one of my buddies on the East Coast complains about being bombarded with snow, I have to look at a calendar and remind myself that just because it's 75 degrees and sunny in LA, doesn't mean it's not still winter. I also have to remind myself not to call my friend and be a dick by rubbing it in. Spring, however, is a different story, because it's a season noted as much for its weather as for its significance as a time of renewal. Spring is when we begin training in earnest for the rest of the year. The skirts get shorter, the days get longer, and winter is a distant memory to all except those who I remind about it on a weekly basis until December.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-03-31 17:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 9 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #150: Virtual Reality

Mon, 16 Mar 2009 16:00:00 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Last week I found myself alone, disoriented, and holding a hand grenade. I was alone because I had lost my friends on Bourbon Street in the midst of Triplet #1's bachelor party. The hand grenade was not an explosive, of course, but rather the famed half-yard glass full of alcohol exclusive to New Orleans. And I was disoriented because I'd had four of them. When I finally arrived at the bar where my friends had been headed at the time we got separated, they asked me how I found them. I told them I asked someone for directions - forgetting that what I actually did was use the Google Maps application on my BlackBerry to locate my position via GPS, and then stumble off in the right direction. Though full-fledged virtual reality may still be a work in progress, when we accidentally confuse technology with real life (even while hammered), the future has truly arrived.

-I often find myself ignoring people on instant messenger just like I would on the phone. While I'm in the midst of doing something else, I absent-mindedly follow the IM and occasionally type: really? uh huh... LOL! and hope those phrases make sense in context. Sometimes I'll ignore someone on the phone and someone else on IM simultaneously. Now that's multitasking.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-03-16 16:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 19 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #149: TV Guide 2009

Tue, 24 Feb 2009 14:00:00 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -In the past few weeks, two new world records were set: a man in Sweden watched television for 72 hours straight, and a woman in Thailand spent 33 days living with 5,000 scorpions. It seems odd to me that the scorpion-living record is so much longer than the TV-watching record. I also think it's worth noting that one of the amenities that the "Scorpion Queen" had to pass the time was a television. If she had just kept the thing on the whole time, she could have set both records. Personally, I'm terrified of all bugs, especially deadly ones that look like lobsters. I do, however, currently follow over twenty different television shows religiously. Give me a DVR and a comfy couch and I'll give that dude in Stockholm a run for his money any day.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-02-24 14:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 13 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #148: The Legend of Zelda

Mon, 09 Feb 2009 12:00:00 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Since I'm twenty-nine years old and Valentine's Day is coming up, I've been thinking a lot about dating and romance in the thirties. That is, the 1930s. Recently, I visited my ninety-seven-year-old Grandma Zelda and asked her a bunch of questions about what life was like when she was single. As my only living grandparent, Zelda is the last remaining tie I have to that generation, and I thought she would have fun reminiscing. She played along for a while, then made me wheel her into the common room of her nursing home so she wouldn't miss Bingo. As it turns out, the game (of dating, not Bingo) hasn't changed much in the past seventy years or so.

-My grandma worked in an Army Navy store in Queens with her father and uncle. One day, the guy who would become my Grandpa Sam came into the store trying to sell raincoats and kick a little game to my grandma. Though her father didn't like the raincoats and turned Sam away, Zelda's uncle knew she had a crush and thus placed an order anyway, enabling my grandpa to come back and see her again. Although I never met my great-great-uncle, obviously he was a pretty awesome wingman.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-02-09 12:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 24 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #147: The Home Stretch

Mon, 26 Jan 2009 17:00:00 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Until I have a family of my own, my "home" will always be my parents' house on Long Island, where I lived until I was eighteen (and where my mom and dad still reside). Twentysomethings tend to lead a nomadic existence and I'm no exception, having lived in five different apartments on two coasts since college. At two and a half years, I've inhabited my current apartment in West Hollywood the longest. Though I love my place and have taken great care to furnish it properly, to call it a home would still be a stretch. Sure I have birth announcements and holiday cards on the refrigerator, but there's also a beer funnel in the cabinet above it. Yes, the two works of non-fiction I'm currently reading rest on my nightstand, but on the shelf below sit two shotglasses, a flask from a sorority date party, some Mardi Gras beads, and a piggy bank in the shape of a miniature Yankees helmet. An apartment? Yes. A frat house? Perhaps. A home? Not so much.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-01-26 17:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 13 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #146: The Last Bachelor Party

Mon, 12 Jan 2009 14:00:00 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -When I was a teenager growing up in the suburbs, if we couldn't find a house to drink in we'd simply kick back beers in the park until the cops inevitably came and chased us through the woods. We were young and stupid and it was fucking awesome. More than a decade later, that exhilarating sensation borne of adrenaline infused with alcohol comes much more infrequently. Which is why since college I have endeavored to take a foreign adventure with the boys at least once every eighteen months or so. Much to my dismay, however, this year's trip was difficult to organize, because married guys are not allowed and the ranks of the unmarried have dwindled precipitously. Thus when me and three friends - two from high school (Matt and Triplet #2), and one from college (Danny) - embarked for Argentina and Uruguay three weeks ago, there was an unspoken air of finality about the proceedings. This would be the last bachelor party.

-Upon arriving in Buenos Aires, I quickly discovered that, when absolutely hammered, I am fluent in Spanish. Though I haven't studied or spoken it since high school, when I get a few drinks in me I become like one of those head trauma victims who mysteriously speak French flawlessly. At one point, Matt and I were spitting Spanish so well that a few locals asked us to produce our driver's licenses to prove we were American. Unfortunately, I look so fat and he looks so young that they just didn't believe they were our IDs.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2009-01-12 14:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 19 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #145: Question Everything

Tue, 16 Dec 2008 14:00:00 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Life progresses through a series of questions. "Can I have some juice?" becomes "Why is the sky blue?" becomes "Why doesn't she like me?" becomes "How am I gonna pay the rent?" becomes "Will you marry me?" becomes "Weren't you on birth control?" becomes "Did you notice all these gray hairs?" becomes "Where are my teeth?" And then, once again, "Can I have some juice?" We are taught from an early age to question everything. But I've spent far less time pondering life's great existential crises than I have obsessing over life's inconsequential annoyances.

-Why do companies think that giving me a five-dollar rebate will be enough incentive for me to refer a friend? I don't like your product that much, and I certainly don't like my friends that much.

-What is the non-athletic equivalent of a linebacker in short sleeves running out onto the field in freezing cold weather? Going out drinking with no jacket on a Saturday night in freezing cold weather?

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-12-16 14:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 16 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #144: The Specialists

Mon, 01 Dec 2008 14:00:00 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -I'm regularly amazed when fans email me to say they want to try stand-up comedy, but don't want any of their friends to come watch them. To me, the very definition of a friend is someone who will cheer you on while you're attempting something terrifying for the first time. Of course, different friends serve different purposes. Some you call for advice, and others you call because they know hot chicks. In a way, your buddies are like specialists, each serving important but unique roles in your life. So whether you're being booed off stage or booted from a bar, it's good to know you have friends that will be there, never passing judgment, and always laughing both with you and at you.

-Some of my friends have dual personalities - one that is displayed in person and one that comes out via text message. For instance, my buddy Shermdog is a fairly wild party animal. But he has a completely different texting personality. He sends me such thoughtful, nuanced messages that it's sometimes hard to believe he's the same guy who was shoving tequila down my throat only hours earlier.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-12-01 14:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 16 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #143: Unthankful

Wed, 19 Nov 2008 12:00:00 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -The exact origin of Thanksgiving is the subject of debate among historians and scholars (at least according to its Wikipedia entry, which was probably written by a fifteen year-old kid in his basement). Before we eat Thanksgiving dinner in my family, we go around the table and say what we're thankful for. It's a nice though somewhat kitschy tradition. But while I'm fortunate enough to have had a prosperous year, when holiday season arrives it's still difficult to feel grateful with so much annoying shit going on around me. That's why this Thanksgiving, I'll instead be discussing what I'm unthankful for.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-11-19 12:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 15 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #142: Rise of the Daycrawlers

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 16:00:00 -0500

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -As a kid growing up in the suburbs, I was always perplexed when I took a standardized test and the address section on the form had a space for "apartment number." Back then, I didn't know anyone who lived in an apartment and could never imagine doing so myself. Now, I'm on my fifth apartment and can't imagine anyone my age living in an actual house. For me, though, my apartment is not just my home, but my office as well. It has been almost three years since I first described "daycrawlers" in Ruminations #85. Daycrawlers are the self-employed, the creatives, and the freelancers - those often misunderstood twentysomethings who work from home - and our numbers are growing. We don't own suits, we usually don't have bosses, and we're all wearing pajamas right now.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-11-05 16:00:00 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 17 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #141: Ruminations on Electoral College Life

Mon, 20 Oct 2008 00:03:16 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> Keep Reading ]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-10-20 00:03:16 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 14 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #140: Generation LOL

Mon, 06 Oct 2008 00:23:51 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Earlier this year I got a Facebook friend request from my former pledgemaster, who had just signed up for the site. My first instinct was to shout, "Sir yes sir!" and accept him immediately. I guess old habits die hard. Later, I realized that his request was odd not because the last time we had a meaningful conversation I was standing in a bucket of puke, but rather because he's over three years older than me. In the scheme of the Internet, we grew up in two completely different eras. Those of us in our teens and twenties can't even remember a time when the web wasn't completely ingrained in our daily lives. We are Generation LOL. My thirtysomething pledgemaster, on the other hand, is firmly in Generation X and, as I recall, also kind of a dick.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-10-06 00:23:51 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 25 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #139: Banking Crisis

Mon, 22 Sep 2008 01:40:55 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -I have spent the past month locked in an epic battle with Allstate over a $75 discrepancy in my car insurance bill. I have written letters, created spreadsheets, and spent hours on the phone with them. But for some reason I'm not bothered by the fact that, since the dispute began, I have racked up bar tabs totaling more than $75 on at least three occasions. Thus, the money management strategy of most twentysomethings is paradoxical - we struggle to save money but don't think twice about spending it frivolously. To me, the recent demise of some of Wall Street's most venerable institutions is not the real banking crisis. Rather it's our tendency to waste four dollars of gas driving to an ATM in order to avoid a two-dollar fee.

-Instead of merely sending me a check when I upgraded Blackberrys, T-Mobile sent me my $100 rebate in the form of a weird, disposable debit card. Seriously? Why not just send me a sack of 100 Sacagawea dollar coins, because there's about an equal chance of those being accepted anywhere I shop.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-09-22 01:40:55 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 19 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #138: Pub Life

Mon, 08 Sep 2008 01:45:15 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -I've always wanted to film a documentary where I go thirty days without drinking alcohol and see how much weight I lose, money I save, and how many girls I'm suddenly unable to speak to. It would be called "Sober Size Me." I'm not sure it'd be Oscar-worthy, but it would certainly reflect the fact that, these days, the vast majority of twentysomethings' socializing and courtship takes place in bars. Each weekend we dutifully traipse from the shittiest dives to the trendiest velvet ropes in search of a spot where everybody knows your name - but forgets it by morning.

-I recently went to a bar where the cross street was actually Cross Street. Trying to explain to my friends how to get there was like playing drunken "Who's on First?"

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-09-08 01:45:15 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 29 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #137: Anatomy of a Cold Streak

Mon, 25 Aug 2008 00:13:43 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -When I banged a really hot chick over Memorial Day weekend, I thought it would portend good things to come this summer. The women would surely flow like wine. But what followed instead was a series of missteps, poor timing, and just plain bad luck that has left me - with few exceptions - high and dry. Regular dudes, like professional athletes, sometimes suffer inexplicable slumps. Whether its tinkering with our technique or trying to grow facial hair, nothing seems to work. Our only solace is the knowledge that one night, when we least expect it, we'll hit a home run and get right back on track. But that doesn't make striking out any less painful. This is the anatomy of a cold streak.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-08-25 00:13:43 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 27 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />

Ruminations #136: After Shock

Mon, 11 Aug 2008 19:02:31 -0400

<table border=0 width="360px"> <tr> <td colspan=2> -Last week marked my third anniversary of moving from New York to Los Angeles, but it wasn't until the week prior that I was officially indoctrinated. I was sitting at my desk when I felt my BlackBerry vibrating. But when I picked it up, I saw that it was off. Then I felt rumbling below me, which isn't unusual since my apartment is above the garage. Finally, when my entire apartment began to shake, I realized - holy shit! - it's a mother-fucking earthquake! I demonstrated my preparedness for such a situation by running directly to the window - exactly the opposite of what you're supposed to do. Within seconds, it was over. But the experience caused me to look back upon my cross-country move and realize that I've been in a state of shock ever since arriving in LA. Now it's time to revamp my outlook on California - and renew my earthquake insurance.

-Dudes generally don't make new friends after about the age of twenty-five, so although I was lucky to have met a good group of guys out here, I never quite knew where I stood. Further complicating matters is the fact that dudes bond by ripping into each other. As I sat around boozing with them the other night, Zach made fun of me, Justin laughed, and Neil high-fived Zach, all at my expense. That's when I knew that I truly hated these fucking guys - and that we're better friends than I thought.

-Earlier this year, after six weeks of suffering with a nasty cough, I finally dragged myself to my doctor in West Hollywood, who proceeded to prescribe me acupuncture. After trying to explain to her that normal people from the East Coast don't believe in that hippie shit, I relented and made an appointment. While he was sticking me with needles, the acupuncturist noted that my liver was slightly swollen and suggested that it might be caused by "emotional pollution." "Nah," I said, "It's probably the binge drinking."

-I don't think many people realize that the two places in Los Angeles where most twentysomethings live - Santa Monica and West Hollywood - are pretty far away from each other. Like, too far to take a cab. So when I wanted to go to my friend Dana's party in Santa Monica recently, but didn't want to drive, I did what any enterprising New Yorker would do: I took the bus (for $1.25!). When I got to the party, where there were about 100 LA natives, I proudly told them how I got there. You should have seen their faces. Not one single person had ever taken a bus anywhere in their entire lives. I fielded their barrage of questions and then, thankfully, my swollen liver and I got a ride home.

-I've now lived on the West Coast long enough that whenever I'm back in the Eastern Time Zone, I feel like I'm in the future.

-Avocado is the default topping on every meal served in Los Angeles County. I actually think it's a law: no smoking in bars, no talking on your cell phone while driving, and avocados on fucking everything.

-After three years in California, I'm finally ready to embrace the lifestyle. The only problem is, just when I think I'm fitting in, I'm promptly made to feel like an outsider again. For instance, in New York, the term to "mack" means to hit on a chick, but in LA, macking means actually hooking up. My boys in LA were under the impression that I was getting laid all the time until they realized I was misusing the term - and promptly ripped me a new one for it.

-As always, here are some random things I've been ruminating about lately...

-I have never understood why every radio station has an early morning talk show. During the course of an entire day, the one time that I least want to hear idiots yammering is the morning.

-I've gotten bolder and bolder in my attempts to buy everything online so I don't have to speak to humans in stores. So far this year I've purchased a fire extinguisher, a welcome mat, and an air mattress. I also upgraded my BlackBerry, paid a traffic ticket, and renewed my passport - ironically three things related to venturing outside the house, which I clearly prefer not to do.

-I also buy my groceries online and have them delivered each week. My ex-girlfriend thought that was the strangest thing and always asked me why I didn't go to the market. "Go to the market?" I'd ask, "What am I, the fucking big toe?"

-The kitchen in my apartment has side-by-side sinks. How did I ever live without this? I don't even really use the second sink, but it's comforting just to know it's there.

-How disappointing is it when you're Facebook-stalking someone and you finally find a picture that they're tagged in, but when you roll over the photo it turns out they're not the cute one?

-So my Facebook account has reached the 5,000 friend limit and I can't add anyone else. This is just another example of technology not being able to keep up with me. You may recall from way back in Ruminations #27 that after my cell phone address book ran out of memory, every time I wanted to make room for a new number I had to pick the contact I liked the least and delete them - like cell phone Survivor. Fast forward seven years and I have the same problem. Only now I have no idea how I'm gonna choose who to keep in my Facebook. Oh, who are we kidding? You know exactly how I'm gonna choose.

-I hate picking up a take-out food order or buying something at a liquor store and being given a receipt with a line for a tip. I know it's not a tipping situation but just the presence of that line makes me question my own judgment. And being forced to calculate out the total - which is of course merely the sub-total plus zero - is just uncomfortable for everyone.

-And, finally, one of the more subtle differences I've noticed between New York and LA is the way people word the mass farewell emails they send out on their last day of work. In New York, the farewell email is boilerplate and utilitarian: "I worked here for this many years, it was great, and now I'm taking a different job." In LA, the emails are a little more egocentric and rationalizing: "Although I've worked here for this many years, and it was great, it's time for me as a person to move on and grow." I think my personal experience has mirrored that sentiment. I left New York strictly for career purposes, but only recently learned how to truly live in LA. It's simple really: pretend like acupuncture really does anything, never let a meal go by without a healthy slice of avocado, and next time there's an earthquake stay away from the windows and pray that discount fire extinguisher you bought online actually works. Fuck me.

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]]> </td> </tr> <tr> <td colspan=2> <hr> </td> </tr> <tr><td valign="top" width="35px"> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245"><img src="http://5.media.collegehumor.com/collegehumor/ch6/c/e/collegehumor.853d36bc2b5e7705040de9fe7c61d3ff.jpg"></a> </td> <td valign="top"> Written 2008-08-11 19:02:31 by <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/user:245">Aaron Karo</a> <a href="http://www.collegehumor.com/school:43"></a> <p> <img src="http://www.collegehumor.com/artwork/icon_likeIt_noLink.gif" align="texttop" /> 18 likes </p> </td> </tr> </table> <hr />