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Writing

Why Flying is the Most Terrifying Form of Travel EVER!

While flying to and fro New York over Thanksgiving holiday, I was reminded once again of my extreme distaste for aviation travel. So extreme is my dislike, that I’m contemplating driving to anywhere I will go in the future, including across water. One of my goals in life is to design a bubble vehicle that can tread over the Atlantic. If that doesn’t pan out, I’ll just hoverboard over to Greece. It may take a lot of time, but I’m optimistic that I can do it.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve developed an illogical fear of flying in airplanes. Now don’t tell me that planes are safer than cars. I know that. But try telling me that while strapped to my seat and falling to the ground with you and 289 other people. I’ll gladly get in an argument with you during the roughly two minutes we have before we disintegrate and become one with the Earth.

As you can see, I have a morbid outlook on flying. Before and during a scheduled plane ride, it is difficult for me to not be consumed by a Woody Allen-esque (more…)
Writing

The Jewish Lovebirds

While I was back home in New York for Thanksgiving, I got myself a handy little Flipcam. I tested the camera out by interviewing my 84 year-old grandmother, Nan, and her 83 year-old boyfriend, Lionel, about their Jewish heritage and how they met. Below are the best segments of our conversation. You will probably notice how much they bring out the worst in each other. In fact, it’s fair to say they down right can’t stand each other. Lionel is, what my grandmother calls, a “Jewish American Prince” and a “nudge”. Lionel has always been the jokester and the teaser and my grandmother, being the prim and proper lady that she is, has become less and less tolerable of his behavior over the years. Lionel is the sort of person while dining with my grandmother in a public restaurant, yell, “Help! Help! This little old lady is trying to grope me!” In fact, Lionel is often kicked out of public places much to my grandmother’s embarrassment. Unfortunately, Lionel’s behavior has become slightly (more…)
Writing

Austin Blogger Awards & Life on the East Side Ep 4: The Doobs


Well, somehow I managed to get nominated in three categories at the Austin Blogger Awards. I’m very touched and appreciate everyone’s support. To know that people beside my parents actually read my blog gives me the incentive to keep writing and the self-esteem boost needed to feed my fragile, child-like ego.

The lovely folks over at the Republic of Austin have put together this first ever award ceremony that will take place at the Austin Eavesdropper-hosted “Austin Bleet-Up” this Friday, December 3rd 7PM at Whole Foods Rooftop. The Bleet Ups are always a great time and an excellent way to meet people of your own kind and no longer feel like a shut-in.

If you’d like to vote. Please vote here. Hipstercrite has been nominated for the “Blog of the Year”, “Blogger of the Year”, and “Best Blog to Find Comments of Discussions” categories. As I promised my friends yesterday, I will make you cookies or canned pickles in return.

Please enjoy my latest episode of “Life on the East Side”. Joy may be (more…)

Writing

Happy Thanksgiving!

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving.

I’m back home in New York for the first time in almost a year and so thankful to see my wonderful family.
Lionel and Lucy say Happy Thanksgiving and hope that they can both take off their ridiculous sweaters soon.


Writing

How To Have a Hipster Thanksgiving

I know I said that I would stop using the word, “hipster”. You’re tired of it, I’m tired of it, WE’RE ALL F’ING TIRED OF IT! However, I couldn’t think of a better name for this post. Something about, “How To Have An Ironic As Shit Thanksgiving” just didn’t sound right. So will you please forgive me and let me have this one more usage?

When I think of Thanksgiving, I don’t think of hipsters. Unless I’m thinking of the movie, Pieces of April. Something about a dark Thanksgiving comedy taking place on the Lower East Side just screams pretentiousocity. Something about Katie Holmes makes me think of nothing at all though. Most of us will be having your pretty run-of-the-mill turkey dinners with the family: wearing that one Gap dress we bought in college and only pull out for dinners with the family, remembering why we pay $500 a month to go to a therapist, and getting drunk off of Grandpa’s stash of whiskey hidden in the floorboards.

If you’re interested in spicing things up and bringing a little (more…)

Writing

Top Ten Ways to Know If You’re Addicted to Twitter

Or: Why Twitter Is The Best Thing That Ever Happened To Only Children

Hi, my name is Lauren and I am an alcoholic.
Wait, I mean, I’m a Twitter addict.
I forgot which blog post this was for a second.

I love Twitter.
I’m so infatuated with Twitter that my imaginary boyfriend hypothetically found me holed up in my room this weekend, pant-less, with the glow of my computer screen accentuating the glimmer of drool running down my chin. He asked me what I was doing and I lied and told him that I was watching porn. HAHAHAHA I LIED!

There was a time when I hated Twitter though. In fact, I wrote a poorly-composed blog post about it. To me it was like reading Ikea instructions. At first I was all like, “F yeah! I’m going to make this really neat-o Swedish asymmetrical thingy!” and then after trying to decipher instructions that looked like they were in a foreign language but were actually in English and graphics that looked like a 6 month-old monkey drew them, my voice dropped an octave and I started (more…)

Writing

To Get Old

my grandmother at 19 years of age
Yesterday, a pictorial featuring French photographer Sacha Goldberger’s 91 year-old grandmother, Frederika, as a superhero made the rounds. It was impossible not to melt when looking at the distinct woman’s face. The story of 91 years and her escape from Nazism and Communism play out in every crevice and line on her face. Goldberger came up with the idea after he noticed that his grandmother was feeling “lonely and depressed” and after some “reluctance” he finally convinced Frederika to participate in the project.

Looking at this slide show made me think about my 83 year-old grandmother, Nan, and her recent bout of depression. Depression might not be the right word for it. Sheer boredom, having no job to wake up to, no family to take care of, realizing that most of your friends are dead, and dealing with a domestic partner that is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s Disease is more like it.

my grandmother in her 40’s

I talk to my grandmother multiple times (more…)

Writing

Is Marriage Obsolete?


A new report issued by the Pew Research Center shows that 4 out of 10 people think that marriage is obsolete. Of course most of the people who share that sentiment are us- jaded twenty-somethings who watched the nuclear family crumble before our eyes. We watched our parents bicker and barter until there was nothing left or maybe we were completely blindsided by a surprise dissolution. Either way, we got the craped scared out of us.

The famous New York Times article, “What Is It About Twenty-Somethings?“, explains that two thirds of Generation Y live with a romantic partner without getting married and that the median age of marriage is up from 21 to 26 for women and 23 to 28 for men in less than forty years. I know I for one can be counted in that 40% represented in the Pew Research report. It was only as of recent that I warmed up to the idea of marriage and I’m 27! This was the age my mother got married and that was considered late in 1977. I still don’t believe marriage works, but I’d (more…)

Writing

Homesick For A Place That Doesn’t Exist

I don’t think about Los Angeles much anymore.

And when I do, it’s not the city I physically experienced, but rather the romanticized one I pieced together through years of watching movies, TV shows, and listening to music about the beautiful, yet fragile place where the sun always shines.

You unpredictably come to mind when I hear a song- a song I never even heard while I was with you- but for some reason reminds me of our imaginary time together. They’re songs full of minor chord viscera. Synthesizers and beats I danced to on the beach, in Hollywood, and in my car before I was ever born.

It brings me to my knees. Every absolute and artificial memory intertwines into a billow of what I no longer know is certain. I take on the emotions of character’s lives I never lived. I experience flashbacks of times I never endured.

I always thought that the day I stopped thinking about Los Angeles would be a sad day.

However, instead of descending in one fell swoop, the omission happened over a period of (more…)