experience

She had a floppy head of marshmallow orange curls like a muppet, and she had this allover soft—but not fat—body

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quote & photo { Chelsea G. Summers }

Josie Powell that was, prettiest deb in Dublin

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Typically, the loser of a bar fight who later initiates a lawsuit has been beaten up pretty badly, or at least has the medical bills to suggest significant personal injuries. The loser sues the bar on one of several theories — the most common ones being inadequate security, not having banned a patron known to have a history of fighting, bar employees initiating the violence, or bar employees responding to a situation with unreasonable force. But that’s the boring legal stuff. […]

Roughly equal numbers of men and women filed these lawsuits. […] Everyone I can remember had tattoos. […]

You might think that a bar fight is most commonly started between two guys fighting over a woman. That’s not so, at least not in my experience. Ejection seems to be a more precipitating event. More than half the bar fights I had to sort out started when a too-drunk patron was asked to leave and refused to do so. […]

Women were faster to employ weapons, whether prepared (the knife) or improvised. Improvised weapons are almost always thrown, and have included highball glasses, pool balls, bar stools, knives, and in one notable case, the assailant’s own feces.

{ ordinary-Times | Continue reading }

‘Sleeping is the height of genius.’ ―Kierkegaard

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Shaun Khubchandani’s 10-week internship at Citigroup […] he was paid a $70,000 annual salary prorated on a weekly basis, or about $1,300 per week. […] a typical day during his internship:



8 a.m.: Wake up.



8:45 a.m.: Board subway at Columbus Circle to Citigroup’s offices in Tribeca.

9-9:30 a.m.: Arrive at the office.



9:30 a.m.–12 p.m.: Do light tasks, like reading S-1 filings or internal memos, or double-checking numbers in Excel spreadsheets.



12-12:30 p.m.: Grab lunch with fellow interns at a nearby Whole Foods—ideally a prosciutto-and-ham panini, with bread pudding for dessert.



1 p.m.–5 p.m.: Work alongside analysts, assisting them however possible. Ask for feedback on financial models or help with difficult calculations.

5 p.m.–6 p.m.: Assigned to a project—such as updating a PowerPoint slideshow or hard copies of client-presentation materials with the latest market data—by a managing director on his or her way out the door, sometimes to be completed by the next morning.

8 p.m.: Order dinner delivery with other interns and the analysts, courtesy of the bank: Italian on Mondays, Thai on Tuesdays, salads on Wednesdays and tacos on Thursdays. (On Fridays, dine out.)

10:30 p.m.–2 a.m.: Leave for the night.

{ WSJ | Continue reading }

‘End up with the right regrets.’ –Arthur Miller

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Implicit gut feelings of newlyweds predict marital satisfaction. […] Findings of this study also suggest that satisfaction in marriage decreases over the 4-year time period, as is consistent with earlier studies.

{ United Academics | Continue reading }

I have a brother that appreciates curvier women, but is married to an athlete. He purposely positions himself outside of Lane Bryant when waiting for his wife to finish her shopping elsewhere in the mall. His not very subtle passive aggressiveness often works in motivating his wife to get in and out.

Hey. It beats tossing yourself over a rail and landing in an Auntie Anne’s kiosk.

{ Really?/Gawker | Continue reading }

related { Man Commits Suicide in Mall After Girlfriend Refuses to Stop Shopping }

art { Keith P. Rein }

SHOUTS TO EVERYBODY SHOWING US LOVE!!!!

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AddictionBlog has an amazing article by a doctor and recovering morphine addict that describes the experience of injection, rush and withdrawal.

[…]

Heroin, by the way, is just the prodrug of morphine. In other words, the heroin molecule just gets broken down into morphine in the body and this is how it arrives in the brain. But because each heroin molecule gets transformed into two morphine molecules (hence the medical name for heroin – diamorphine) the feeling can be a little different because increased concentration can apparently make the high more intense.

{ Mind Hacks | Continue reading }

‘Deception is the knowledge of kings.’ –Cardinal de Richelieu

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For four years, Josh and I were Silicon Alley’s “it” couple. We met in 1996, when he was running the Internet entertainment site Pseudo.com and throwing Warhol-scale parties. […]

One morning, as I was putting on my robe, he announced that he was planning to have cameras installed all over the loft–above the bed, behind the bathroom mirror, inside the refrigerator, even in the litter box–and wire them to the Internet in the name of art. Art? More like porn, I said. But Josh calmly explained that we would never do anything that made us uncomfortable, and that he eventually hoped to sell unedited tapes of our lives to a museum. […]

As we were gearing up for the November launch, Pseudo tanked, as did the rest of the tech stocks. Josh’s share in Pseudo was now worthless, and the fortunes he made from Jupiter Communications were slashed. Meanwhile, he was sinking over $1 million into Living in Public, hiring me to produce the Web site, manage press and plan a launch party (I was not paid to live in public), and bringing in a team to rip open the walls and fill them with a complex nervous system of wires, cables and cameras.

{ NY Observer 2/26/01 | Continue reading }

photos { 1. Phebe Schmidt | 2 }

‘First we feel. Then we fall.’ –James Joyce

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Female sexual dysfunction is almost a non-experience, the opposite of an adventure that you have, then process, then write about.

{ Cris Mazza interviewed by Megan Milks | TNI | Continue reading }

art { Richard Phillips, Untitled (Smiley), 2000 }

related { Playboy erects huge neon bunny art installation near Marfa, Texas }

Backpack: Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum. Delicioso!

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She’s a yellow belt. I’m a green belt. That’s the way nature made it. What happens is, she throws me all over the place.

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Most of us spend many hours each week watching celebrated athletes playing in enormous stadiums. Instead of making music, we listen to platinum records cut by millionaire musicians. Instead of making art, we go to admire paintings that brought in the highest bids at the latest auction. We do not run risks acting on our beliefs, but occupy hours each day watching actors who pretend to have adventures, engaged in mock-meaningful action. This vicarious participation is able to mask, at least temporarily, the underlying emptiness of wasted time. But it is a very pale substitute for attention invested in real challenges. The flow experience that results from the use of skills leads to growth; passive entertainment leads nowhere. Collectively we are wasting each year the equivalent of millions of years of human consciousness. The energy that could be used to focus on complex goals, to provide enjoyable growth, is squandered on patterns of stimulation that only mimic reality.

{ Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi | Continue reading }

photo { Jacob Kassay }

You’re stuck in the middle (yeah yeah), and the pain is thunder

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I’ve been a massage therapist for many years, now. I know what people look like. People have been undressing for me for a long time. I know what you look like: a glance at you, and I can picture pretty well what you’d look like on my table.

Let’s start here with what nobody looks like: nobody looks like the people in magazines or movies. Not even models. Nobody. […]

Women have cellulite. All of them. It’s dimply and cute. It’s not a defect. It’s not a health problem. It’s the natural consequence of not consisting of photoshopped pixels, and not having emerged from an airbrush. […]

Adults sag. It doesn’t matter how fit they are. Every decade, an adult sags a little more.

{ Cory Doctorow | Continue reading | Thanks Tim }

image { Alis Pelleschi }

The swancomb of the gondola, highreared, forges on through the murk, white and blue under a lighthouse

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Sex and the City’s ante­penultimate episode… […] This was the episode in which gauche, chain-smoking “Page Six” staple “Lexi Featherston” did some coke at a geriatric party, yelled, “This used to be the most exciting city in the world, and now it’s nothing but smoking near a fuckin’ open window,” and then took a header out said window. […]

Minimum estimates now put the number of New York City millionaires at around 400,000; there could be as many as 650,000. […] It’s a bedrock pillar of nickels and dimes all the way down, a billion fees a second, a burn rate, a waste, a dick joke, a $40,000 storefront in Brooklyn, one more year of fat bonus before you say you’ll finally quit, one more “space” disrupted, a Balthazar breakfast, a billion uniques, a whale, a Citation X, an acquisition, a bomb, a deposition, a bust.

{ Choire Sicha/NY Magazine | Continue reading }

‘For everything you have missed, you have gained something else.’ –Ralph Waldo Emerson

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I’d get online and look up and 40 minutes would have gone by, and my reading time for the night would have been pissed away, and all I would have learned was that, you know, a certain celebrity had lived in her car awhile, or that a cat had dialled 911. […] It’s interesting because (1) this tendency does seem to alter brain function and (2) through some demonic cause-and-effect, our technology is exactly situated to exploit the crappier angles of our nature: gossip, self-promotion, snarky curiosity. It’s almost as if totalitarianism thought better of the jackboots and decided to go another way: smoother, more flattering – and impossible to resist.

{ George Saunders/Guardian | Continue reading }

photo { Claudine Doury }