Fourteenth Street April 2011

the d-bags you love to hate

actually, their lips aren’t sealed

date night spots 2.0

from Red Scare to fashion flair

Fourteenth Street

Go ahead. Cross the street.

April 2011

And so did Twitter, and Myspace and LiveJournal. Four tales of modern woe.

CONTENTS.

APRIL 2011

the d-bags you love to hate

girl band a Go-Go

date night spots 2.0

red scare, fashion flare

Fourteenth Street

Go ahead. Cross the street.

April 2011

9

And so did Twitter, and Myspace and LiveJournal. Four tales of modern woe.

Cover illustration by Tracy Galloway

Quickies.

Healthy Living.

5

Philly’s Least Wanted scrubs with bad reputations

15

Sans Corn Syrup Diet easy if you don’t have the munchies

6

Fashion Face-off

16

Running Routes

7

Six Degrees of Separation

17

Caffeine by the Numbers

Sounds & Scenes.

Style.

9

Q&A with Lion Versus

18

China Fever

10

Books in the Hood find your local independent book store

19

Q&A with Duke & Winston

20

Find Vienna peek inside Philly’s hippest closets

11

Accordion Addiction what’s an accoridon?

12

Lust2Love vintage Go-Go’s with a modern twist

Love Drunk.

13

Art of Seduction

14

Rookie Room make someone take you to these joints

20 18

Features.

24

System Overload four people, four different social networks

In Every Issue.

6

Then & Now

30

In Memoriam

16

Fourteenth Street Editors-in-Chief Josh Fernandez Samantha Krotzer Creative Director Tracy Galloway Publisher Alessandro Satta Managing Editor Trey Shields

Art & Photography Photo Editor Kara Mallon Assistant Photo Editor Mike Revak Contributing Photographers Dan King Karina Avellaneda

“I think I’m going to delete my Facebook.”

How many times have I heard myself utter those words?

Too many to count, really. As I toggle between the Facebook and GMail tabs on my screen, I’m reminded of my pathetic lack of will power that keeps me from ever doing such a thing. I’m addicted to this crap and for whatever reason, I can’t sign off.

And I’m not the only one.

In this month’s issue, we bring you the personal accounts of four Philadelphians whose lives have ultimately been ruined by the collection of social media sites that most of us only know as a tempting source of procrastination.

Speaking of procrastination, do you know how hard it is for a class of graduating seniors to get anything done? A month ago, I didn’t think the April issue would even exist. The tale of Fourteenth Street was playing out like that of a mystery novel I once read…And then there were nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Well you get the point. Luckily, we didn’t drop the ball completely and in the midst of our YouTube watching (our favorite is that little ditty about Friday), Facebook “liking,” and tweeting, we’ve managed to bring you another smashing 32-pager.

So flip through the pages and discover the hottest running routes in the city, meet a group of ladies who are gaga for the Go-Go’s, and read why a dog really is one Philadelphia fashion designer’s best friend. And when you throw the magazine aside and return to your computer, be sure to tweet about us.

Tracy Galloway Creative Director 4/

FOURTEENTH STREET / April 2011

Editorial Sounds & Scenes Editor Lauren Macaluso LoveDrunk Editor Christina Trinh Healthy Living Editor Michelle Kraus Style Editor Juliet De Rose Contributing Writers Caitlin Weigel Jamal Robinson June Shell Kirsten Stamn Maria Zankey Max McCormack Steve Ciccarelli

Fourteenth Street is sponsored by the Temple University Journalism Department. The studentrun publication appears as an insert in The Temple News twice every spring semester. For questions or comments, please contact Professor Laurence Stains at lstains@temple.edu.

Karina Avellaneda

(not the) Editor’s Letter

Contributing Artists Robert Zangrillo Valerie Rubinsky

QUICKIES.

Philly’s

LEAST WANTED Written by Trey Shields Illustrations by Robert Zangrillo

Philadelphia is a city of neighborhoods.

But what about all the characters that populate these neighborhoods? Besides having the “Top Two Worst Sports Fans” (see GQ), we have everything from the South Philly Jersey Shore audition reject to the Fishtown androgynous fixedgear hipster. We picked out some true stars of the streets to share. Enjoy…and remember it’s all in fun. Except for the Backpack Guy. Seriously, watch where you swing that thing.

Olde City Couple

Natural Habitat: Lucy’s During the workweek, the Olde City Couple lies dormant among the sea of cubicles in the office buildings of Center City. There their hormones are suppressed only to explode onto the streets of Olde City every Friday and Saturday evening. The lone male favors traveling along 2nd and Market hoping to descend upon an unsuspecting mate that has lost her own pack. Thus is the circle of life.

April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 5

Fashion Face-off

Style Editor and fashion aficionado Juliet De Rose sounds off on who wore it better.

THEN

Denim Jacket

& NOW

Taylor Swift Gym

Ada’s (right) look is very safe. Kara’s jacket over a hoodie over a buttondown over a t-shirt with shorts, tights and oxfords’ look is pretty killer. Sometimes risky styling decisions create a clothing climax.

Arcade Fire P90X

WINNER

Casual Menswear Lil’ Kim

Nicki Minaj

Snap Bracelets

Silly Bandz

If there’s one rule for mens’ style it’s this: Don’t look sloppy.

While Rick (left) looks more pulled together with a structured jacket, Addison proves that less is more.

TIE

Spring Hats

Mark Zuckerberg

Jesse Eisenberg

WINNER West Philly Gutter Punk

Natural Habitat: Clark Park The stench of the WPGP can be smelled within a one-mile radius. The WPGP is quick to approach its prey asking for spare change or weed.

Safety pins, paper clips and arbitrary band patches hold the outer shell together.

North Face Girl

Natural Habitat: Temple University The North Face Girl is able to defy all fashion logic by wearing pajamas and Uggs to class.

Often she likes to announce how she “just rolled out of bed”, as if others did not take notice.

Alissa (right) gets props for mixing patterns and textures while Kirsten looks effortlessly chic incorporating basics.

However, Alissa is a rule breaker: harem pants with a vintage tee and fur stole? I love a rebel.

Blays

Natural Habitat: Outside H&M

The Blay is a true man.

Within his soul he is able to find the ability to wear painfully skinny jeans and extremely low cut tank tops and still look good doing it.

QUICKIES.

six degrees of S-E-P-A-R-A-T-I-O-N 5

1

2

3

6

4

How is Temple student Kara Mallon connected to actor Michael Cera?

1. Kara Mallon (dates the former kitchen manager from PYT) 2. Tommy Up (owner of PYT) 3. ?uestLove (adult milkshake at PYT named after him) 4. Tayyib Smith (friend of ?uestLove/publisher of 215) 5. Lauren Macaluso (interned at 215 Magazine) 6. Michael Cera (interviewed by Lauren Macaluso)

Backpack Guy

Natural Habitat: R5 shows at First Unitarian Church The BG can truly “feel� the music when it drapes over him like a warm blanket, or that may just be from the acid he just dropped.

Always stationed front and center at a concert.

The backpack acts as an armored shell to reflect the revolted stares and remarks of his peers.

Philly Sports Fan

Natural Habitat: Lot K at the Sports Complex A superhuman of obese proportions, the PSF can cook a mean kielbasa and shotgun two beers at once all while completely obliterated on Coors Light.

His loyalty knows no bounds, as he is quick to criticize his team when they exhibit less than perfect performance.

Fourteenth Street’s

RELEASE PARTY

Ain’t no party like an FS party!

Thursday, April 28 9 p.m. - 12 a.m.

21+ NO COVER Free Bowling Come and have at least two drinks – one for each great issue!

909 N. 2ND STREET PHILADELPHIA, PA 19123 215-238-BOWL

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215-238-BOWL

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SOUNDS & SCENES. Our band’s name is... Lion Versus.

We met... via a 12:30 a.m. text message exchange: Hilary: “Hey! Do you want to be in the band?”

Jeremy: “Who is this?”

Our daytime jobs are... artist, server, barista, fish-

cooker, ESL teacher, motor technician, brain technician, job coach, etc.

Our sound... Freak-folk with country accents, and the occasional infusion of marching-band fun.

Our favorite place to play is... World Café Live,

North Star Bar, Green Line Cafe, friend’s houses, good ol’ Millcreek Tavern (please tip your bartender), and probably a few others we’re forgetting.

What most people don’t know about us is... no

Photo courtesy Lion Versus

Lion Versus “The band name came to me when I started playing out alone in Georgia. I realized I did not want to play under my name because I wanted the music to be about the music and eventually play with other musicians. I wrote a song called Lion Versus in my mom’s kitchen one summer.”

Hilary White

one in this band has ever been trained to play mandolins, tri-toms, base drums, xylophones, Himalayan singing bowls, or most of the other wacky instruments we use in our shows. We often learn many of them specifically for particular songs and performances.

Ukuleles... are never quite in tune.

Our style can be defined by... a mixture of “faith, the grotesque, and the city in transit.”

It’s unusual for us to... have only one version of a

given song, sometimes out of inspiration, sometimes out of necessity.

The future of the band looks... exciting. We just

recorded and released a new EP entitled “Five Hearts” with Will Manning from Village Recordist and plan to put together a full-length album this summer. We’re also looking to book more shows outside of the city in the coming months while continuing to play regularly in Philly.

To experience some of the freak-folk fun, check out Lion Versus out Wednesday, June 15 at The Rotunda w/ The Perseverance Jazz Band, 8 p.m.

April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 9

SOUNDS & SCENES.

Books in the Hood ith Borders closing, independent bookstores are more important than ever. Luckily for us, Philadelphia is ripe with quirky, innovative, and tightly edited shops that sell great reads for a good price. An ideal place to spend an afternoon, these stores are much deserving of our support. So, for your convenience, we’ve scoured Philadelphia’s various neighborhoods to find the best local haunts.

Bookhaven

Fairmount 2202 Fairmount Ave. This is a real book-lovers paradise, its labyrinth-like space crammed with great books. Step over the books spilling onto the floor, tiptoe around the sleeping cat, and explore any subject you desire, from witchcraft to literary criticism.

Ricci Andeer, owner of the store, is an invaluable resource for finding a great read.

Book Corner

Art Museum 311 N. 20th St. A personal favorite, Book Corner sells fabulous used books at super-cheap prices: every book is $3 or less. Large and spacious, it’s a great spot to relax and flip through the pages of an interesting new find. And don’t forget to ask the extremely knowledgeable staff what they recommend.

Brickbat Books

Queen Village 709 S. 4th St. With a hip, retro vibe and a selective collection of new and used books, Brickbat is the place to go for hard-to-find editions. The owner, Patrick Richardson

Graham, stocks books that are “not necessarily rare or valuable, but are just great, interesting reads.”

Whodunit Books

Rittenhouse 1931 Chestnut St. A jewel box of a bookshop, filled with fantastic mystery titles as well as a variety of other subjects, Whodunit offers both used and discounted new books.

Owner Henry Reifsnyder likes to keep the content fresh and interesting with authors like Hunter S. Thompson and Irvine Welsh.

Head House Books

Olde City 619 S. 2nd St. With its mint green walls, friendly staff, and rotation of regular customers, this bookshop is intensely relaxing and comforting. Make sure to check out The New Yorker postcards and ask for the staff pick of the week. Be aware that there are only a couple copies per book, so make sure you call ahead if you’re looking for a specific title.

Robin’s Books

Center City 110A South 13th St. Tucked away in a hub of activity with restaurants and shops, Robin’s is a quiet oasis of jazz music and fantastic used and remainder titles. While the staff might not be the friendliest, you’ll be sure to leave with a couple well-priced finds and a desire to return.

Last Word Bookshop

University City 220 S. 40th St. This may be heaven on earth for used bookshop lovers, featuring both used and discounted new books, Last Word has everything from a great fiction selection to architecture reads to a collection of old National Geographics. Make sure you give yourself a budget before walking in.

Illustration by Valerie Rubinsky

W

Buying local doesn’t only apply to food. By Kirsten Stamn

Kim Tice caresses her true love: an accordion.

Squeeze Outside the Box People actually play the accordion...they’re in South Philly. By Josh Fernandez

MIKE REVAK

K

im Tice and Mike “Bellows” Bulboff met on Craigslist. Tice fell passionately in love in 2005, but it wasn’t with Bulboff. After she saw the Psalter, a Christian rock band, use the accordion she was hooked on the instrument.

“I thought it was the most beautiful instrument,” Tice says. “It becomes an extension of your body, and you can capture so many beautiful, different moods.”

After the Psalter show Tice hit up Craigslist and found Bulboff selling accordions. She e-mailed him after buying one and offered to be his apprentice.

Bulboff is the owner of Liberty Bellows, a store in the Italian Market, specializing in selling, repairing and teaching how to play the accordion.

“I started out five hours per week, and before you knew it, slowly decreased my hours at World Café,” Tice says. “Per-

fecting accordion repairs is a craft. After you work on 300-400 accordions you get better and better, and I still learn new things everyday.”

Since learning how to play, Tice has performed with local Philly acts like Phillybloco, a Brazilian band, Psalters, and mainstream acts such as MeWithoutYou and Matt Nathanson, which was her most memorable performance.

The instrument first attracted Bulboff in his youth when he found his father’s accordion collecting dust.

“I learned how to play it and liked it ever since, and now I own 200 accordions,” says Bulboff, who’s also a University of Pennsylvania Wharton School economics PhD candidate.

Like Tice, Bulboff plays the accordion in his spare time; he’s part of a seven-member accordion ensemble called Philly Squeeze, which plays at this year’s

Italian Market Festival May 14 and 15.

Similarly to Tice, Bulboff is equally fond of accordion repairs. “My dream one day is to build my own accordion from scratch,” he laughs, mentioning that accordions have approximately 1,000 parts.

“I will do this at some point in my life.”

In addition to growing a bigger cliental base, Tice says she and Bulboff would like their next foray to be in publishing.

“We’d like to eventually write a ‘Tales of the Accordion Shop’ book,” Tice says. “There are so many different kinds of people who come in here, like the 86-year-old man who told us he wants to die with an accordion on his lap. We still have to figure out how to write it, but it will happen eventually.” 14 April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 11

SOUNDS & SCENES. Royce Epstein, lead vocalist listens to the Go-Go’s every day. It’s her homework.

Lust2Love

Five lady rockers who got the beat and then some. By Samantha Krotzer

R

oyce Epstein is an in house materials expert for KlingStubbings.

Julia Gottleib is finishing her master’s degree in social work at Bryn Mawr College and works at the Mazzoni Center.

Amanda Vaden is retail manager at the Betsy Ross House.

Robert Briggs is a hairstylist at Fringe Salon.

Carly Marconx is a receptionist and IT specialist at the Mazzoni Center.

From this, what do these women have in common? Bonus points if you picked up on two of them working at the Mazzoni Center, but that doesn’t really help you with this riddle.

Five other women brought these ladies together: the Go-Go’s.

Working nine-to-fives, more or less during the day, these femmes are Lust2Love by night, a Go-Go’s tribute band.

“I mean, I’m a hairstylist so I’m a rock star every day,” says Briggs, the

band’s rhythm guitarist. She has a point – she learned how to play the guitar in two months flat for Lust2Love’s first show.

Lust2Love came to life at Sugar Town’s 10th anniversary show at the Tritone in late January of this year. Sugar Town showcases all female cover bands, and when Marconx suggested to Epstein that they should do it there was no doubt that they would and that they would cover the Go-Go’s.

The other ladies fell in place like clockwork – Marconx ran into Vaden on the street asking her if she could play an instrument and worked with Gottleib who could sing. Briggs is Epstein’s hairstylist. Next thing you know a band is created.

Their original intentions were to be a one-night wonder, but as vocalist and new bassist Epstein says, with a laugh, that they didn’t suck and decided to keep on going.

Playing at North Star Bar and Fontana’s in New York City, Lust2Love is now part of the hip subculture of

Philadelphia tribute bands.

“At North Star we got to hang out with other bands and get tips – Tragedy [an all metal tribute to the Bee Gees] was awesome. I saw metallic under their jeans and I had no idea what was going to happen. When we got back to the dressing room there was glitter everywhere,” says Gottlieb.

Lead vocalist Epstein explains that Lust2Love wants to establish themselves as any other local Philly band, and that they are working on doing benefit shows in the future.

Everything that the band does – including making Lust2Love panties and 80s garage rock pins – is to promote the Go-Go’s. Their dedication to vintage GoGo’s is obvious, but these lady rockers are more than just bandmates.

“We all have our heart in it,” says Gottlieb. “Every Tuesday when we practice at Carly’s house we have dinner together first. We have a sisterhood.” 14 *Check Lust2Love’s Facebook for show dates.

The girls always channel the not-polished guitar rock of the Go-Go’s debut album, Beauty & the Beat, even with their Style. One of their favorite Philly vintage shops is Astro Vintage in Queen Village.

LOVEDRUNK.

The Art of Seduction

Seduction is not physical, it’s mental. By Christina Trinh

I

think I am a Coquette. That or a Charismatic. Definitely NOT a Rake.

The Art of Seduction by Robert Greene explores the most elusive and effective form of social power. The book analyzes the great seducers in history, from Cleopatra to JFK, as well as the classic literature of seduction from Freud to Kierkegaard and Ovid to Casanova. Greene explains seduction is “a sophisticated art, the ultimate form of power and persuasion... [it works] on the mind first, stimulating fantasies, keeping a [sexual partner] wanting more, creating patterns of hope and despair.” Pretty intense, right?

The first section of the

The Coq uette

ake The R

book concentrates on the nine personality profiles of each type of seducer. Channel your inner seductor or seductress. And as with anything, use your power wisely…

The Rake has no restraints at all and is a slave to his love for women. Although he is disloyal and dishonest, his reputation of being a lady’s man is in and of itself seductive. He offers an affair of pleasure and danger. The asshole we hate to love but do anyways.

John in “John Tucker Must Die” The Ideal Lover thrives on your broken dreams and reflects your fantasy. You want romance or adventure? Done and done! A master in creating the illusion you so desire.

Noah from “The Notebook” The Dandy excites us because they can’t be easily labeled and have the freedom we want for ourselves. They play with both masculine and feminine traits and have an ambiguous, alluring presence that stirs repressed desires.

Vivian from “Pretty Woman” The Natural embodies the qualities of childhood— spontaneity, sincerity and innocence. In their presence, we feel at ease and get caught up in their playful, child-like spirit. They are a master in neutralizing people’s defensiveness and infecting with helpless delight.

Sam from “Garden State”

The Coquette is the grand master of the game, using the push-pull technique blowing hot and cold. They entice with the promise of reward, but delay full satisfaction.

Kat from “10 Things I Hate About You” The Charmer is the master of manipulation masking their cleverness by creating comfort. They act as a mirror and adapt to your mood, feel your pain and understand your spirit. They seduce by aiming at your vanity and self-esteem.

Prepare for the biggest mind fuck from this type.

Sebastian from “Cruel Intentions” The Charismatic is a presence that excites people and this comes from an inner quality: a sense of self-confidence, purpose, contentment and sexual energy that most people want but lack.

Go getters who radiate intensity while remaining detached.

Mr. Big from “Sex & The City” The Star lets us imagine more than there is by keeping their distance, but stand out from others through a distinctive and appealing style. Elusive and ethereal.

Edward from “Twilight” The Anti-Seducer has no self-awareness and repel by lacking social prowess.

Insecure and self-absorbed, they’re unable to grasp another person’s psychology. Two words: turn off!

Regina from “Mean Girls” April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 13

LOVEDRUNK.

Rookies of the Year Pick-up Check out the best new date spots in Philly. By Michelle Kraus

Lines (that worked?!)

The Good, the Bad, and the WTFs?

By Christina Trinh Their intent is to open up conversation between strangers and get the sparks flying. Sometimes they’re effective but usually these one-liners come off as cheesy, stupid and kind of pathetic. Here are a few that Temple students have either used or experienced firsthand.

Ditch the “I’ll take the usual.” Try something unusual and new. There are plenty of places in the city that are just opening their doors and are ready to become your rookie pick!

1518 Bar and Grill

1518 Sansom St. With a simple address to remember, you’ll never forget this new place in Center City.

It has a wicked long wooden bar for all your favorite drinks. Impress your date by knowing the best, and most unique, dishes: the feta puree-coated lamb shank and salt and pepper wings.

The Farmers’ Cabinet

1113 Walnut St. Forget the standard table and chairs; try eating off of barrels as this restaurant perfectly plays off of its “rustic American” theme. Inspired by an old school Philadelphia-based publication where the first reference to our favorite word “cocktail” appeared, you won’t find an empty liquor cabinet in this place!

Philadelphia Bar and Restaurant

120 Market St. Talk about being blunt; the name of the place explains it all. But a simple name does not mean a simple menu. Its $5 bar snack menu is perfect for keeping both your wallet and stomach full. With options like deep fried mac and cheese, spinach and parm dip, and pickled vegetables, this makes a date spot seem fancier than just snacking on typical bar food.

The Dandelion

“I tell girls that I own a hedge fund and just bought a condo in Miami Beach. That usually seals the deal.”

Ryan, North Philadelphia “Some guy told me if I was a booger, he’d pick me first.”

Jen , North Philadelphia “No words needed, just a straightforward ass grab. In my defense, I was fortified by liquid courage called Vodka.”

Kristy , North Philadelphia

18th and Sansom St. Stephen Starr does it again, with the opening of his 15th restaurant in Philly. This British themed restaurant was an instant hit with everything from bar, and outdoor dining, to private rooms, and, of course, take out!

“Wow you look like McDreamy on Grey’s Anatomy… Do you think you’d be able to take care of me if I was your patient?”

Jon , Fishtown

200 E. Girard Ave. How appropriate is it that you can find some bangin’ seafood in Fishtown? Impress your date by ordering something raw. Try the East and West Coast Oysters and Salt Roasted We-Peel Shrimp. It’s comfort food at its best – sea-salt style.

“This old guy that comes into the restaurant I waitress at always asks me if I’m looking forward to tomorrow… because I get better looking every day.”

Tori , North Philadelphia

Fathom Seafood House

MIKE REVAK

top: Dandelion’s right: Philadelphia Bar bottom: 1518

HEALTHY LIVING. Food Shopping is Corny

C

Not eating corn syrup for Caitlin S. Weigel was easy until she had a beer. challenge of eating a corn syrup-free diet for a week. I hoped it would make me more aware of the products containing corn syrup and how much corn syrup I was regularly ingesting.

I started on a Monday and was surprised to find that living a corn syrup free existence was pretty easy. Spinach salad for lunch, strawberries for a snack, cheese and crackers for dinner- it wasn’t hard at all. The rest of the week continued on and I hardly even ran into my arch nemesis Captain Corn Syrup.

I don’t consider myself a super healthy eater, but I’m not living like a twelve-year-old boy either. I don’t dine solely on Slurpees and Gushers and 7-Eleven isn’t my primary grocery store.

Most of the products that commonly contain corn syrup are things I already know to avoid. I’m not pouring fruit punch into my sugar puffs cereal, and unless you are, you’re probably in the clear too.

I made it through the first five days relatively unaffected by my new anticorn syrup diet. Then Friday night rolled around and it began to be an issue.

Sometimes when one stumbles home from a night of drinking, one craves

certain foods. But then one might remember that they are trying to eliminate corn syrup from their diet and find that all of the certain foods they are craving, are now suddenly off limits.

Everything bagels? Corn syrup.

Your roommate’s Oreos? Corn syrup.

That Tuna Helper box dinner your mom bought you two years ago? Corn syrup.

Corn syrup was seriously putting a damper on my drunk food feast. It was literally in everything I wanted to eat. Levels of desperation even had me reaching for soup and low calorie yogurt, only to discover those two dreadful words in the ingredients section. It was like some sort of sick prank.

Saturday night was equally as difficult. Somehow a salad doesn’t quite cut it when everyone around you is going to town on Cheese Nips and Lunchables.

But at the end of the week, I came to the conclusion that living sans-corn syrup isn’t so bad. Sure, I was missing out on my munchie foods, but I really shouldn’t be eating that stuff anyway.

There are tons of healthier options to choose from and all it takes is a little extra reading at the grocery store. 14

KARA MALLON

orn syrup --­­– two simple words that have recently become the center of an intense health debate.

We’ve all seen the commercials --– someone points out that the other person is eating a food product chockfull of corn syrup and the other person retorts smartly that corn syrup is A-OK, implying that person A is just a moron who buys into conspiracy theories.

Maybe I live under a rock, but I had no idea people were getting into arguments with their loved ones about the virtues of corn syrup. But apparently, it’s a pretty hot button issue.

Corn syrup is a sweetener, made by processing kernels of corn and allowing them to ferment. Like most other sweeteners, it can be linked to health risks such as diabetes, obesity and heart problems. Unlike other sweeteners, corn syrup is usually frowned upon for it’s over-processed nature --– especially the much-maligned high fructose corn syrup.

It’s never a good idea to put too many processed foods into your body. If corn syrup was among the high ranks of processed edibles, it’s naturally a good idea to steer clear of it. So, I took on the

April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 15

Sick beats for your running feet Outkast

Rosa Parks

Kanye West Champion

Mirror’s Edge

Deadmau5

Sofi Needs a Ladder

Gyptian Hold Yuh

Young Bloodz I’mma Shine

Brand New

You Are Not the Sun

Dr. Dre (ft. Snoop Dogg) The Next Episode

Lupe Fiasco

Hip-hop Saved my Life

Kid Cudi

Embrace the Martian

DJ Class

I’m the Shit

Diplo (ft. Afrojack) How I Like It

Fort Minor

Remember the Name

Rick Ross Push It

A Tribe Called Quest Can I Kick It

Jay Z

On To The Next One

16 /

FOURTEENTH STREET / April 2011

Just Joggin’ Ya

Christina Trinh recommends these running routes.

I’m high at least five times a week. Before you jump into any conclusions about yours truly being a productive student by day (arguably) and a marijuana enthusiast by night, let me clarify. The high I’m talking about doesn’t require bud, bowls or blunts—just a pair of Nike sneaks, an iPod, a decent trail and a good mindset. If you haven’t already guessed, the high I’m talking about is achieved through running. It is the only high I’ll ever need in this life -- complete natural state of euphoria.

Scared that Philthy doesn’t have many running trails to offer? I got you covered. Below are a few trails that will keep your feet movin’ and a few tunes that will keep your head groovin’.

Center City Schuylkill Banks Loop

A 3.3-mile loop passing many fancy schmancy Center City hotels.

Historic District and the Jersey Side

A run through historical sites like Independence National Historical Park and Society Hill then cross the BF Bridge, and experience the New Jersey side of the Delaware River

Schuylkill River Trail to Manayunk

A 7.9-mile trail starting and finishing near Center City hotels taking in the most scenic parts of the Philadelphia Marathon course

Julia Gottlieb of Lust2Love trains for the Philly Marathon to The Go-Go’s ‘Beauty & the Beat.’

Fairmount Park Schuylkill River Loop

A 8.4-mile loop starting and finishing at the Museum of Art Wissahickon Valley and Chestnut Hill- A 7.4-mile one way route along vehicle-freew

MIKE REVAK

XV

HEALTHY LIVING.

Hurdles Beyond the Track

M

A personal journey about becoming a runner. By June Shell

y life as a runner began 11 months ago, three months after beginning the journey that would lead to me losing 55 pounds. It took me a while to start running because I thought that was the true mark of being athletic since, to me, running defines a “person who really works out” and is completely healthy.

Like many things in life, the destination doesn’t seem to have been reached even though I’ve definitely gotten there as far as my standards go. What I realized is that my standards rose with each mile I ran.

I became a very healthy person in regards to eating and exercising, but I didn’t feel like I was at the level I wanted to be. In my attempts to further my own view of myself as a real runner, I signed up for my first 5k: The Phillies Inaugural 5k.

In the weeks building up to the

race, I grew increasingly nervous for a few reasons. First, I am not an outdoor runner. I just need that control over the speed and time and numbers in general.

Second, when I run, I run in increments of 10 minutes while alternating lifting weights, but while still running about three and a half miles. I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to run the 3.1 miles all at once and be completely lame and exhausted, lagging behind with the oldies at the finish line. The last and biggest worry weighing on me had been the fear that my family and others who recently became aware of my diagnosed eating disorder would think I shouldn’t be running. I was scared that people would think I should be focused on healing my mind and body instead of pushing it physically.

Even though these were all irrational thoughts, I feared that my family would take away the one thing I never

Not a runner?

Just have sex.

People who often have sex enjoy the following health benefits: longer life, a healthier heart, lower blood pressure, lower risk of breast cancer, lower risk of prostate cancer, pain relief, a slimmer physique, on and on and on. That’s probably why Sex and the City’s Samantha doesn’t look as old as she actually is.

walked away from without feeling good about my body and myself. How could I manage to rid my body of the bad feelings I get from disordered eating and thinking behaviors if I can’t sweat them out, pound the treadmill and “detoxify” my body? Running makes me feel clean, even though I roll off the edge of the treadmill sweaty and disgusting as hell. I don’t always listen to music, and I don’t pretend it’s my mental decompression time; honestly I don’t have the ability to focus that long in my current emotional state.

I run purely because it feels good to know that my body is burning calories and bad thoughts away. Burning it all into sweat is the physical outpouring of what I’ve accomplished, even if it is just doing a few miles and one small race.

Finishing the race was the day I became a “real runner” and I will forever hold onto that scrap of fight to keep running.

Starbucks Grande Coffee (16oz) – 330mg Monster (16oz) - 160mg 5 Hour Energy (2oz) – 138mg No-Doz (1 pill) – 100mg

•Kissing burns about 68 calories per hour on average.

•Increasing your intensity and varying your lip locking position during a make-out session can burn up to 90 calories per hour.

•Massages increase heart rate and burn about 80 calories or more in the bedroom.

•Hot and long lasting sexual intercourse burns about 144 calories or more per half hour.

-Jamal Robinson

Red Bull (8.2oz) – 80mg Ice Tea (Freshly Brewed) - 47mg Jolt Gum (1 piece) - 40 mg Primer Spray (1 spray) - 33mg April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 17

April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 17

STYLE. What the French?!

China Fever

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collections. Marc Jacobs’ collection for Louis Vuitton was chock-full of traditional Chinese necklines, but– in typical Marc style– the dresses were infused with bright color, crystals and satin. Similarly, American fashion line Rodarte, in a career-making collection, showed prints that were reminiscent of Chinese blue and white ceramics, contrasted with beautiful gold accents.

China fever has begun. As more designers jump on the bandwagon, it will be interesting to see how this nation influences the rest of fashion and the world.

-Max McCormack

Rodarte

ashion has a new target. Its weapons – clothes ­– are positioned toward one destination: China. The People’s Republic has become the latest global bachelorette designers are obsessed with courting.

Even legendary Vogue Editrix, Anna Wintour, recently made a lengthy visit to Shanghai.

It is not surprising this $300 billion dollar industry would find the commercial country appealing. Almost every industry has been flocking to the Chinese over the past few years. Now the fashion field is looking east to increase business.

One designer who has made her desire visible is Diane von Furstenberg, celebrated inventor of the wrap dress and President of the Council of Fashion Designers of America (CFDA). In the past year, von Furstenberg opened shops in both Bejing and Shanghai. The designer was also the subject of a retrospective, highlighting her influence on fashion in Bejing.

Coincidentally, we’ve seen many Asian-inspired pieces in the spring

The idiot’s guide to problematic fashion jargon. I only hope you can pronounce Louis Vuitton.

By Juliet De Rose Louboutin (lou-boo-teign) The French shoe design house recognized for its sexy redlacquered soles. Can be seen adorning the feet of every fashion-forward woman and those annoying omnipresent Kardashians.

Hermés (air-mez) If you’re saying it like that Greek messenger guy, stop. This iconic brand, dating back to 1837, began by making horse harnesses and brindles (Hence, the horse and carriage logo). It is now known for its gorgeous silk scarves and the “Birkin” bag.

Louis Vuitton

Lanvin (lon-vahn) This high-fashion brand galvanized the indigent style conscious when it was made readily accessible (and affordable) for its collaboration with mainstream powerhouse H&M last fall.

Longchamp (lon-sh-omp) This luxury leather goods company is most recognized for its array of colored nylon bags with leather straps. Seen under the arm of every sorority girl who probably can’t even pronounce it.

Q&A

Seun Olubodun of Duke & Winston

B

orn in Nigeria, raised in England and eventually landing in Philadelphia, this Temple alumnus is making the t-shirt cool again.

FS: How did the idea for Duke & Winston happen?

SO: I got the idea in late 2008 while working at a web design company. I wasn’t really happy with what I was doing since I was mostly dealing with clients and wasn’t being very creative. I met the owner of a Boston t-shirt line, Johnny Cupcakes, which had gained a huge worldwide cult following by starting out with a few t-shirt designs and catering to friends and local customers, building by word of mouth and an emphasis on selling with customers directly. It really struck a chord with me and after doing a few months of research on how to start a clothing line, I quit my job, settled on the name Duke & Winston (after kicking around a dozen or so different names) and designed a couple of tees and started to sell them at local events. Everything has taken off since then.

By Juliet De Rose

FS: How are your t-shirts and hoodies different from Urban Outfitters or other mainstream brands?

SO: Since t-shirt lines are really a dime a dozen, I decided to build a brand that would have a good story and people would be able to identify with. From naming the company Duke & Winston after my English Bulldog, Duke, and Winston Churchill (known as the British Bulldog), to using old world imagery in the graphics, the brand has set itself apart from others. I went after a market, preppier customers, that isn’t typically catered to by independent brands. Most mass brands try to go after a hip, street wear market but mine likes their graphics a little more refined and meaningful.

FS: What fashions are unique to Philly?

SO: While we are lacking in the NYC high-fashion scene (which, to me, is pretentious anyway), we have a very unique style because different cultures mix together (hipsters, sneaker heads, preppy) and people do their own

thing. You don’t really see that type of individuality in many cities. Sadly, we also have a lot of guys who haven’t let go of the “Frat guy” style of old sneakers, baggy jeans and backwards sports hats. (I used to be guilty of this, too.)

FS: Besides Duke, who or what influences you?

SO: I am influenced by British and world history. I try to take events and concepts from the past and turn them into cool graphics. From Winston Churchill, Cricket, The Black Plague, The American Revolution and anything else I find interesting. In a time when people are taken by the same meaningless graphics (Ed Hardy and anything ironic like mustaches, unicorns...) it’s good to put out designs with substance that people can actually learn something from.

FS: What’s next for the brand?

SO: I am working on a line of refined polos as well as limited items each season (wallets, jackets, ties). I am also creating a small dog line since the brand is heavily based on my bulldog and so many dog lovers already buy my tees. 14 April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 19

Stylish Sound

FIND VIENNA Styled by Juliet De Rose Photographed by Dan King

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ind Vienna is the next big thing. The quartet of twenty-somethings already have an impressive laundry list of credentials including opening for mainstream acts like The Script and Neon Trees and performing a Radio 104.5 ‘Live at 5’ studio session earlier this year. Their distinctive sound resonates with a simpler time while still having the power for mass appeal. We met up with Patrick, Ian, Paul and Mark for an afternoon as they sported this season’s au courant apparel, mixing crisp button-downs from Commonwealth Proper with the casual cool t-shirts from Duke & Winston. What’s next for the guys?

Stay tuned.

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FOURTEENTH STREET / April 2011

Dan King is a commercial photographer and director based in Philadelphia. He co-founded “Stupid Easy,� a production studio in Olde City where he creates original videos, photos, and installations for new media applications. Stupid Easy also hosts fine-art shows in their gallery.

DanKingPhotography.com StupidEasyIdeas.com

Illustration by Tracy Galloway

Myspace Facebook

facebook

LiveJournal

Twitter

System Overload Four stories of personal social networking hell.

By Kara Mallon, Samantha Krotzer, Steve Ciccarelli and Maria Zankey

Facebook Ruined My Life.

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o I met this really cute boy. So exciting! I leave the bar, go home and immediately search him on Facebook. I found him! Should I friend him? I shouldn’t, right? Is that weird? I don’t want to seem like a stalker.

Whatever; I’m doing it.

The next morning I find that he’s approved my friend request. His whole world is mine to pursue -- interests, wall posts, friends, photos. Clicking through his photos I fall into a jealousy death spiral. Who is this girl that’s tagged with him in all of these photos?

“Cute picture,” she comments. The spiral starts picking up speed. Going through his albums I’m suddenly time traveling through all of his past relationships. Oh, who is this other girl? What an adorable photo booth of you guys kissing. Oh, you guys went to Temple Rome together?

Fun! All of sudden I’m a year and a half back logged in his wall posts trying to crack the case in this slut from Rome. It is at this moment that I realize that I have totally lost my mind.

“Super stressed out, crying into a glass of Maker’s Mark,” I post.

Five seconds later my Aunt Ginny likes this.

There are over 500 million users on Facebook. Fifty percent of those users log onto the site every day. Facebook reports that people spend over 700 billion minutes per month on the social networking site. So let’s break this down.

That means each person spends 1400 minutes per month and 46.6 minutes each day. Forty-six minutes per day?!

I just spent an hour and a half looking through Cindy So and So’s from high school’s page, and I don’t even like her.

By the way, she got fat and her husband is bald. Ew. Users that access Facebook on mobile devices are over twice as active

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FOURTEENTH STREET / April 2011

on Facebook compared to non-mobile users. Facebook for my iPhone is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I am streaming Facebook at all times -- A constant drip of bragging, whining and nothingness. I wake up in the middle of the night, I check my Facebook. This lecture is super boring, I check my Facebook. I have to go pee, I check my Facebook. My name is Kara Mallon and I am addicted to Facebook.

What am I even checking? Now I know my friend Steve is watching Swamp People. Cool.

Thirty-five percent of the users on Facebook in the United States are between the ages of 18 and 25. So why does it feel like the only people who comment on my page are my dad and my aunts?

“Super stressed out, crying in to a glass of Makers Mark,” I post. Five seconds later my Aunt Ginny likes this.

What is there to like? I don’t even like this. I went on vacation to Chicago last summer with my family. I snap a photo of my sister on Lakeshore Drive looking super chic in her white Ray Ban wayfarers and peace sign T-shirt and mobile upload it--You have to mobile upload or it didn’t happen. Oh and don’t forget to check in too. “Happy Hollywood in Chicago.

Peace Out,” my aunt Suzy comments.

What does that even mean? I decide to go against all of my better judgment and post a photo of my new boyfriend on Facebook. Within an hour there is a string of 22 comments among my family, “Ooh who is this?”

“What’s his name?” “Is that a neck tattoo?”

Welcome to Familybook. What’s on your mind?

I currently have seven people in friendship limbo. A 13-year-old cousin, a family friend who I put in limbo after rejecting her friendship three times, and some acquaintences I don’t really care for. But there are few feelings better in Internet life than getting a friend request from someone you truly loathe and just clicking deny.

In eighth grade I was running with a tight group of girls. We had sleep overs, went to the mall and talked about

“

“

...or at least annoys me. Every. Single. Day. By Kara Mallon

kissing boys – I lied. No one wanted to kiss me. One day, they mean girl-ed me and got me to admit I thought our friend Kaitlyn’s FUBU shirt was corny.

That was it. Apparently that made me a bad friend, and a racist, and they didn’t want to be my friend anymore. I cried and cried and cried and eventually got over it. I don’t think I ever even liked those girls anyway. They made fun of me because I couldn’t afford Abercrombie.

So I avoided all of them in high school.

Half way through my sophomore year at Temple I get a friend request, by whom else but the queen bee of the eighth grade monsters. Rage instantly washed over me. I denied the hell out of that friendship and sent her a personal message.

Dear Danielle, I think you are an awful person and just because Facebook exists does not mean we need to be friends.

Thanks, Kara

She messaged me back telling me I should get over it, it happened a million years ago. Guess what? I’m not over it. I told her if she had the capability to be that awful years ago then she’s still probably a terrible person.

Facebook is like never leaving high school. Running into the same losers every day in the “people you may know” sidebar. Yes, I do in fact know him. I dated him and he moved to Puerto Rico and didn’t tell me. Thanks for bringing that back up, Facebook.

Have you ever tried to deactivate your account? You’re met with the faces of five friends and little notes like “Rachael will miss you,” obviously getting personal leaving off the last name.

Quit manipulating me. I need to graduate and this open Facebook tab on my browser is not helping. So I choose to deactivate my account and my required reason for leaving is, “I don’t feel safe on Facebook.” 14 *Kara Mallon went two hours without Facebook before she relapsed. She’s on chat right now.

a dm to the heart What’s Happening? #youresinglebecause @Samantha Krotzer

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he told me I could be the next Tina Fey if I really wanted to be. We sat in the back of a bus huddled together behind a newspaper as if it was our way of separating ourselves from the rest of the riders. I watched her eyes switching back and forth as she read my weekly column about Twitter.

For two years I’ve been writing a column for The Temple News where I highlight the stupidity of tweeters at my school. I would laugh about it and then get hate e-mails and laugh even more. And then she came along and together we laughed even harder.

Each week I found myself inserting little comments into my Twitter commentary that were only for her to understand. In turn, I would make myself sick with anxiousness waiting for her to notice and laugh just as she did when we were on the bus.

It didn’t take long before I was hooked. As far as I was concerned I didn’t have to go to class and I didn’t have to go to work because hanging out with her was more important. Lying about where I was didn’t feel wrong if the outcome was seeing her.

And if I didn’t see her, not talking all day was made OK by sending me a direct message on Twitter. I’ve allowed myself to be someone that has accepted such a distant way of communication to be the most intimate.

I fully understand the hierarchy of communication via technology and their connection with intimacy – mine is just fucked up. A text message is just to you, writing on someone’s Facebook wall is like dropping a simple note into someone’s broken mailbox in a rainstorm – you just hope that they see it through the masses of random event invites and dozens of irrelevant notifications that fall down on them like soggy take-out menus.

Twitter is different. Our followers could see our interactions on their timelines. You only have 140 characters and she was willing to dedicate 16 of them to my Twitter handle. It wasn’t just a message to me; it was the integration of me into her sentences. This is the type of logic that allows you to let Twitter ruin your life.

She would tweet at me and I would tweet back. To me, this was the ultimate. I had someone who understood Twitter like I did, someone who wanted to communicate the way I wanted to communicate. Someone who didn’t think it was completely insane to check Twitter at 3 a.m. when you wake up to go to the bathroom.

Maybe my biggest mistake was letting anyone know how much I cared about Twitter. Or maybe it was actually caring about Twitter that was my actual mistake. Straying from my hierarchy, one morning after I sent a text message my eyes were fixated on my cell phone waiting for a response. I would be lying if I didn’t say I wasn’t counting each second that passed, I’d refresh Twitter every 30 seconds in hopes to see some sort of sign of life.

And I got my sign of life -- a life without me. No one wanted us to be together and it had finally made her snap. She ignored my text message but tweeted without the attachment of my 16 character long username. For anyone else this would be mildly annoying. For me it meant immediately going home to lie in bed for days.

In essence, I asked for this. I drew a map of how to hurt me: ignore me in real life but haunt me with your online presence. As I connected all of these dots in my head, I slowly realized that what I saw as dots were just scribbles to everyone else. I’ve turned the most simple of social networking platforms into something professional and personal, and even more startling, something with power to make me feel hollow.

She deleted her Twitter account.

Seeing her tweets when she was ignoring me made me feel like I hadn’t eaten in weeks. Seeing that she deleted her entire Twitter account made me feel like she had died.

Because if you’re not on the Internet then you don’t exist. 14 *Samantha Krotzer is still writing her column about Twitter.

She has 145 followers, only one of which she has dated.

April 2011 / FOURTEENTH STREET / 27

Before there was poking, there was Myspace.

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he was older than me, meaning she had her driver’s license and she always had to pick me up in her sports car, the car which we had bonded over because I mentioned that it smelled like Play-Doh during a particularly friendly screening of Kill Bill Part 1. Three weeks later we made out on the floor of a friend’s basement apartment while I was still in eyeliner from an earlier event in which I had played guitar to a packed club of 1,500, opening for one of my then-favorite rock bands—I mean, if that didn’t seal the deal what the fuck could have?

I was 16, I was increasingly lonely and pouring my feelings out through a LiveJournal. And a Xanga. And a message board. And, yes, MySpace. Which was the kicker. Which is how this fucking mess started.

This girl did have a point in her message, I did remember meeting her a few days prior outside of Dunkin Donuts where she recognized me, and we laughed about Vanilla Chai—I’m not being facetious, this was my life at 16. “I just moved really close to Red Bank,” she said. Really close eventually meaning a five-minute walk from her front door to mine, and then another few steps up the stairs and through the hallway and into my bedroom. And then a few inches closer when she kissed me and I kissed back, strangely interested in the lack of logic in this all.

I knew her name and I knew her brother. That was about it. But she knew me, which was enough. She suggested that layers come off and shades be closed and music be turned on. There had been close calls, sure, but this call had turned into a conversation, a conversation I thought I was prepared to have. But I had worked on my talking points for a different audience, an audience who I had

warmed up to and felt the kind of kinship with that Billy Corgan sang about.

From a MySpace message to a condom wrapper left on the nightstand, in one easy step.

The disconnect began there. The years of feeling like I was wearing a different shoe on each foot, trying to achieve an unattainable balance. Love is A; Sex, B. C has consistently eluded me. Not for lack of trying. A metaphorical sandal on one foot, a boot on the other, ever searching for some kind of balance—an inner feng shui, maybe.

Social networking is easy. Fake, yet—especially in the early days of it all— totally real. Your friends would get mad if they weren’t in your top 8, you’d hit on girls via emoticons and express all of your emotions through the song played on your profile. After that first time, I consistently tried to keep in contact with her—to obvious resistance. I didn’t even want to keep in touch, I just felt like I was supposed to. “This is it?” I thought. Yes, this was it, and it was always it.

But this “it” was nothing at all. A feigning of a connection with every person who clicked “accept” on a friend request. But that’s who we’ve become.

We form close relationships with people we see every few months because we consistently “talk.” I felt close to girls because of this, but I was always so far away. That sense of closeness would come through comments and messages and profile views and it was just fucking disgusting. I would say that I loved a girl that I was friends with, while I didn’t even know what that feeling was or what the implications of publicly stating my stupidity would be.

I feel as if I was lied to and there’s someone other than myself to blame for my problems other than myself. Like it was fucking Tom, that snide douche-

A Place to Lose Yourself

BY STEVE CICCARELLI

bag. Like he programmed us all to forget about reality and speed things up.

It’s why 2005 feels like a hundred years ago and every second you’re actually involved in seems like the most momentous occasion of your life. It’s why you’re not willing to wait a relationship out, jumping to the immediate conclusion of love and destroying everything you loved about that connection in the process. It’s why you speak to 20 percent of the people who you have had the most intimate of moments with. It’s why you sleep alone at night and spend your days on some consistent search for something you think you lost but it turns out you never had in the first place.

Yes, her car smelt like Play-Doh. Yes, we stopped making out and watching bad movies. But then I cried. After that first condom wrapper was left on the nightstand, we stood on a dock where the local lotharios would consistently court their women—but I had a different purpose. And from then, things were never the same.

When it comes down to it, social networking didn’t ruin my life, but it changed it forever. And it started with Myspace. And when Myspace became Facebook, theoretically speaking, the Rubicon was crossed -- this is how things would be from now on. When you’re that young, everything means the world to you and feeling a little less lonely was really the most important thing one could do.

You can get caught in the grip of nostalgia, that perfect comfort of the known, and it will break you. It will make every small gust coalesce into a tornado and eventually sweep you away. 14 *Steve Ciccarelli’s MySpace page is still active, hilarious, and sometimes receives weird messages from unknown females.

Lament of a LiveJournal Poet fashion isn’t dead

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o one gives a damn about you when you’re 15. I mean, your parents love you and want you to get into a good college, and your friends want to know what you’re wearing to the mall so they can out-woo the greasy boys who hang out by the gumball machines, and of course your principals want to make sure you do well on your standardized tests. But no one actually gives a damn about your feelings.

After all, you’re not old enough to buy cigarettes for the bad kids it’s cool to be friends with, and you’re not even old enough to drive said underage cool kids to Sheetz so they can buy their own smokes.

But if I were to believe no one gave a damn about me when I was 15, I probably would have driven my car into the ditch down the street from my house – or at least written an angsty AIM away message hinting that I would.

So I forced myself to believe someone gave a damn about me, and by someone, I mean some thing: my LiveJournal.

It was basically a diary in the form of a blog. There were also “communities,” which were really just group diaries. I belonged to one called “sexy_brunettes,” and as I’m sure you can assume, we members shared some truly life-changing exchanges.

I would write in that journal every day during my word processing class and then again in those precious moments at home before my dad came home from work and my sisters came home from middle school. Thirty percent of the entries were about how school was “kicking my ass,” how I wanted to lose weight, and there were quite a few that just described me “balling my eyes out” in the hatch of my best friend’s parents’ Chrysler Pacifica. And then there was my poetry.

“I’m swallowing my pride / and it feels like a good shot / burns on the way down / but the after taste is so…liberating.”

Link

[entries-archive-friends-userinfo]

Amidst the sea of angst, one former LiveJournal user experienced the harsh truth that there is no such thing as privacy on the internet. BY MARIA ZANKEY

[Aug. 27th, 2004 - 10:13 pm] Because by the age of 15, I had had a total of two shots in my lifetime, and the feeling of premature esophageal erosion isn’t one to be reckoned with.

But my personal journal entries were strictly private. I fantasized of someone hacking into it post-mortem, and everyone would realize my poetic genius tragically late like they did when digging around in Emily Dickinson’s bedroom.

The other 70 percent were about my unrequited love for a boy I liked ever since he told me I made a good Ginger Spice for Halloween in third grade.

On my 16th birthday, I wrote an entry about how I snuck out after a family trip to Applebee’s to drive around in his navy blue Honda Civic. For lack of a better term, we were having an affair. We parked in the parking lot of an antique store about a mile outside town just off the highway, where he “rocked me like a baby” and “kissed my forehead for precisely an hour and a half.”

“I now know that wherever I am throughout these next few years, I will be able to come home and have a person to hold me if I want,” I wrote. “Even if no one else knows.”

My smug smile faded the next day at school, when I was greeted at my locker overflowing with papers that trailed the whole way down to the senior side of the hall.

I picked one up. There, floating down the halls of my high school, were my most embarrassing, albeit intimate, confessions about the night before, with my name attached.

Oh, people knew.

I tried to play it off like someone had made it up, but they knew. Even my teachers gave me sympathetic looks that day, and my word processing teacher lectured me on the dangers of Internet privacy.

I later learned the hacker was a girl from my cheerleading squad who spent a little too much time online and spent a little too much energy obsessing over my lover. When people questioned my ren-

dezvous partner about the accusations that were plastered on the walls, his answer was: “No dude, she’s a freak.”

So maybe I was a freak, but at least I was an enlightened freak. That was the day I realized no one gave a damn about my feelings – at 15, 16 or otherwise.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not completely jaded and bitter. But I know to think twice or three times before I trust my inner most emotions with someone, especially someone as floozy as the Internet.

Later that night, I IMed one of the bad kids, who picked me up, took me to Sheetz, and bought me my first pack of cigarettes. 14 *Maria Zankey has contemplated starting a personal blog for yeas, but hasn’t been able to make the jump yet.

So I forced myself to believe someone gave a damn about me, and by someone, I mean some thing: my LiveJournal.

2 comments Comments, anyone?

BYE.

Illustrated and written by Kara Mallon

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FOURTEENTH STREET / April 2011

urban setting multimedia focus award-winning faculty

Journalism TEMPLE UNIVERSITY

join a nationally accredited program that features a strong liberal arts foundation

specialize

and individualize your journalism education to your specific career goals

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innovative and entrepreneurial journalism skills in: reporting writing video audio web

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professional experience with year-round internships at major media outlets Seniors participate in the PhiladelphiaNeighborhoods.com: a converged newsroom in Center City Philadelphia emphasizing neighborhood reporting.

2/22/2011 rdc

www.temple.edu/journalism

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