PITTSBURGH: The Good, The Bad, and The Alcohol Poisoning

As discussed earlier this month, I have lived in a lot of different cities.  I've gotten to know the food, the public transportation, and the real estate in each city... it's been quite a trip.  And each city is drastically different from the next, (anyone who tells you Chicago is just a smaller version of New York is high on Willy Wonka drugs).

I would like to take the opportunity to state loud and proud my personal opinion on each of these cities.
Because I am opinionated.
And I am loud.
And I get tired of people putting their hands in my face and dismissing me just because they disagree with my opinion.  This way, if you hate what I think about your city (which, keep in mind, was also my city for a time) you can just flame me on Facebook or something!

Deal?... Deal.

First stop...

PITTSBURGH, PA

I lived in Pittsburgh for four years during college, where I went to Point Park University to get my BFA in Musical Theater.  I left for a few months after graduation to sublet in New York, but found myself back in Pittsburgh with my ex-boyfriend for another year soon after.

TOTAL YEARS LIVED IN PITTSBURGH:  5 & change
HOMES IN PITTSBURGH:  4, including my dorm.

                      

Why is Ben Roethlisberger  so violent when he lives in such a beautiful place?

PITTSBURGH IS A MAGICAL PLACE
Scoff at this if you've never been there, but this city has charisma.  Stay with me, on this...
I moved here straight from Seattle, and the first time I saw downtown I burst into tears.
It was so ugly.
I was used to huge, sparkling skyscrapers and a view of the mountains!  This was.... dirty.  I remember the first time I smelled those hair oils that were sold on card tables on the sidewalks... I thought they were drugs.
Not kidding.  I was young.
But as time went on I learned how truly ethereal this city could be.  It is a major city that is run by students.  The area of Oakland, where most of the college kids live is simply electric.
Now, something you have to understand about Oakland is that most of the housing in the area should be condemned, or has been condemned but the people living there couldn't care less if their ceiling caves in on them cause they only pay $350 in rent.  Think about this... Carnegie Mellon kids who are paying $150,000 for their degree in architecture are just chilling on these decrepit stoops, alongside the low-income families and gangbangers, drinking stale Lionshead out of red Solo cups.  Everyone has a little bit of a biting edge to them- even the "woo-hoo!" girls in their jean mini-skirts and sequined, pink, babydoll cut Steelers shirts seem like they are fully capable of punching a cop in the face.

The whole area smells like deli meat, sweat, gasoline, one night stands, and beer. And I'm not saying that's a bad thing.
I once watched a guy I took acting class with rip a GNC marquis off a building during a Steelers Superbowl riot IN FRONT OF COPS IN RIOT GEAR (imagine what would happen if the Pirates did anything worthwhile.)  I watched my coworkers start a rebellion against our 60 year old manager of Primanti Brothers because he called me a bitch, while the UPMC doctors on their lunch break cheered us on and ate their overstuffed sandwiches, "Fuck authority!  We'll burn this place to the ground with you guys!"  This is a very honest, proud and tough city.  And it will make you tougher.  It will slap you on the back of the head and tell you to stop being such a fancypants- go out there and get your hands dirty!

CITY OF BRIDGES AND WATER BUGS
Oh my God, have you ever seen a water bug?
Have you ever seen LOTS of them IN YOUR APARTMENT YOU JUST MOVED INTO?
Nightmareland!
See, the downfall of having students run rampant in your city is that it slowly starts to turn your city into a toilet.  It's simple arithmetic, really.

Poor, Desperate Students + An Old, Poor City =

Pittsburgh can be pretty rough.
The streets are cracked and eroded, the drivers are terrifyingly aggressive, the police have had-it-up-to-here with your nonsense, there is a surprisingly active gang scene, the weather pushes your body to the limits and there are bugs everywhere.  There seems to be no rush to spruce up Oakland whatsoever... and these buildings are falling apart at the seams.  However, the slumlords keep signing leases to unsuspecting Freshmen while their parents look on, horrified.
"How slummy IS IT?!"
Our apartment's front door fell off it's hinges.  Like, just gave up one day and fell off it's hinges!  And I don't blame it... it was probably 110 years old!  But that's how run-down these buildings are- the landlords couldn't care less and you convince yourself you don't either... that it's all part of this magical Pittsburgh experience.  

We had a funeral for our door.  As you can see, I wore my nicest outfit.

Another sucky thing about living in a college town is that you are surrounded by people in college.  Yes, this can be pretty sweet when you yourself are in college and it's all a  big, fun, smelly experiment... but when you're still there after graduation it can weigh on your nerves a bit.  Everywhere you look there's some dude in a "vintage" Pitt shirt with a snakebite piercing and Jack Kerouac tattoo telling you how lame your taste in music is.  Add to that the incessant partying and the absence of shits college kids give about anything... it can feel a bit like you are running a daycare full of hung over American Apparel models.

People who love Pittsburgh really love Pittsburgh.  It's very admirable.  And there's something to be said about a city that hasn't changed much since the 1970s.  When Allegheny County Chief Executive Dan Onorato placed a 10% tax on poured liquor in order to raise money for Public Transit, bars throughout Pittsburgh revolted and listed this tax as THE ONORATO TAX on receipts, as well as posting threatening signs in their windows.

$3.83?!  How will I feed my children?!

They might be the only human beings alive that revolted against the smoking ban in bars, too.  They basically just REALLY LIKE REVOLTING and staying just as they are.

Pittsburgh is like your accidentally-racist Grandpa who wears a "Who Farted?" hat, and smokes through his stoma.

But then again...wasn't that always the Grandpa that gave you a taste of his beer when you were a kid?  And dammit, even though he might get you kicked out of Applebees, you can't help but loving the old, stinky curmudgeon.

That's Pittsburgh.

We made snowballs out of the dirty snow from the filthy streets of the projects, then we poured bottom-shelf Peach Schaaps on them, then we ate them. 

 This is also known as one of the best nights of my life.  

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

My Attempt at Being A "MySpace Girl"

If you have big boobs, you know what a pain in the ass they can truly be.  However, you will spend a lifetime hearing from B-cupped women how lucky you are to have cleavage up to your chin, while you're thinking, "It'd be sweet to be able to wear tunic style shirts without looking like Mama Cass."

The grass is always greener on the other side, right?

Well, this thought process is exactly why when I was 19 years old I decided I had had enough of being the busty, blonde, sweet, girl-next-door and decided it was time to take a walk on the wild side.

It was time to become a MySpace Girl.

Yes, that's a naval piercing poking out between my AWESOME Hollister pants and HILARIOUS T-shirt about New Jersey!

"What's a MySpace Girl?"  

Oh you silly little person from the future who is reading this blog, let me tell you about these women of yester-year:

See, long before there was Instagram making it as easy as 123 to look like a professional photographer, we had a different breed of social media mavens; the Myspace Girls.  These girls took photos of themselves that would even make David LaChapelle say, "Let's be 'Friends'!"  

Here's a short list of things that made MySpace Girls so cool:

AMAZING makeup.  
These bitches could wing out their liquid liner in ways I didn't know was possible.  They'd wear faux eyelashes to the gas station.  They knew how to wear purple, green and blue eye shadow all at once and WERK IT OUT.

FABULOUS hair.  
Either cut pixie short, or rocked with loooooong extensions.  Bonus points for chunky blonde highlights in black hair.

BADASS tattoos.
Chest pieces of guns on 125 pound girls from the suburbs.  Enough said.

ROCKSTAR wardrobe.
Somehow they managed to pair huge acetate Chanel earrings with bandannas draped around their necks.  How??  How did they make this work??

They also all had cool names like Niki[Nadar] and deedee^DYNAmite

Tell me this girl isn't the awesomest.

Amazing.  Fabulous.  Badass.  Rockstars.  Why WOULDN'T you want to be just like them?  And on top of everything, it seemed like all the hot guys in bands ate out of their hands.  These girls fascinated and intimidated me all at the same time.

I really wanted one of these boys to love me.

So I went ahead and tried on a new persona.  I cut my hair pixie short and sampled a gamut of hair colors from BLEACHED blonde all the way to jet black, I wore faux eyelashes everyday (even in dance class.  WTF was I thinking?), I buckled my belt to the side on low-slung skinny jeans, I tried to self-gauge my ears (don't do this), and I even got my very own nape-of-the-neck tattoo.

Oh, hello!  I didn't see you there!  I was just hangin' in my room with a full face of makeup on at 11:00 pm.

I tried my damnedest to fit in with that crowd.
But it never worked.  I never got the attention I so badly wanted.  Or the hundreds of comments on my pictures on MySpace that the other girls had.  What was I doing wrong??   MAN was I annoyed... And more intimidated of these girls than ever.  If they could pull this off and I couldn't, that must mean they were better than me.  This "less-than" feeling I inflicted on myself transformed quickly into judgement.  I started looking at their pictures differently- making bitchy comments about them.  

"Why do you need to take so many pictures of yourself in the first place?  How VAIN are you??"

It took me a long time to realize that my venture into "the other side" wasn't as "green" as it looked from where I used to be.  With time, my hair went back to my natural dirty blonde, my Hot Topic jewelry was thrown away, the small amount of gauging in my ears closed up, and I stopped pretending I loved thrash-core metal so much.

Just in case you were ever wondering what my pores looked like in 2005.  Cause I know you were.

I still have the tattoo, though.  And I'm glad I do.  That tattoo is a reminder of the risk I took trying something new and scary.  That I made huge changes in my life to see if I'd like it better than what I had been comfortable with for years.  I'm so happy for those couple of years.  And I have a lot of amazing memories to look back on because of those changes!

I still stalk those rock star, bad ass girls on Instagram who are so damn good at taking gorgeous, tired-eyed, lips-open sexy photos of themselves.  However, I don't feel the jealousy or the judgment anymore, but more a strange level of respect for them... now knowing how TRULY DIFFICULT it is to succeed at taking those dang pictures and living that look.

And I still try!  I take pictures of myself every so often and post them to Instagram.  Let's be real here, it's fun and it gives you a little confidence boost with every *like* you receive.

But I know who I am now, and who I am is someone who will always be too shaky in the hands to wing out her eyeliner properly.  And someone who feels far more beautiful and confident wearing a Forever 21 sundress than a ripped up vintage sweatshirt.

Good for those girls.  They've honed a very fun skill.  And they're beautiful and creative.

I guess the point of all this is- if you really believe the grass is always greener on the other side, take a trip over there and see if you still feel the same way!  You'll still be welcome back onto your own grass if you change your mind.  It's a good thing to switch up your "given circumstances" and see where life leads you.  Maybe you'll make discoveries about yourself and other people that you wouldn't have made otherwise.  You'll see how the "other half" live.  You'll gain new perspective.  I highly recommend it.

Still, don't try to gauge your own ears.

@lindsaylieu

Me!

LEARN FROM ME,

Lindsay

Oh Dad, You Were Right All Along... (dammit)

When I was little and my awesome dad would be attempting to give his brassy daughter some much needed, wise advice he would often say to me, "LEARN FROM ME, Lindsay..."  
I can still hear his voice saying it in the kitchen while I slathered my Thomas' English Muffin with butter before leaving for High School.  I was sooooo much smarter than him.

I was 17!

I knew about heartbreak- My online boyfriend and I had broken up only four years ago!
I knew about money- I had a part time job at a sandwich shop (which my father got for me)!


I was an ADULT, dammit and I wanted to make sure he knew it!
Advice from someone who loved me and basically lived just to make sure my life would turn out spledidly?  Pfffffft!  I'll listen to my giggly 17 year old girlfriends, thankyouverymuchDAD!

Lookit that man.  That is a man who knows a thing or two about the right way to get to the mall.

As I've aged - 10 years since then - I feel like one of the GREATEST lessons that life (and Dad) has taught me is that it's OKAY to ask for help.  And it's OKAY to take and use someone's advice.

It doesn't mean your initial, gut decision was wrong- simply that the people who love you are giving you advice because they want what's BEST for you- THEY'RE loved one.

It doesn't mean you are immature and stupid- to the contrary, I've delightfully found many people to be quite impressed when I'm able to go to them and ask their opinion.

It doesn't mean you're weak and unable to fend for yourself- big fat, stinking nope all over that one.  That feeling of "weakness"?  I personally think that's PRIDE trying to make a sneaky getaway out of your body.  And you know what?  Let it go.  PRIDE is like that crappy college boy who always made us feel insecure and "less-than".  Oh we kept that boy around- we thought we NEEDED that boy.  We cried and felt uncomfortable when he left us for another unknowing Freshman girl.  But in the end, you were BETTER OFF WITHOUT HIM.  That's PRIDE.
Let pride go, drink some Franzia with your girlfriends and feel GREAT the next day.


I now make it a point to always ask people for advice- much to Dad's excitement.  Because everyone's life has taken them on different journeys- so by asking someone else for their thoughts on the situation you can LEARN FROM THEM.  Learn things you would have never known otherwise...

It's kinda like the first time you ever played The Oregon Trail with your cool babysitter- they were seasoned pioneers who knew to NEVER caulk and float your wagon.  If they weren't there beside you to offer such sage advice you would have CLEARLY lost that deck of cards you bought back in Town.  And WHAT would Bob, Phyllis, Alexander and Rochelle do without that deck of cards?

"Avoid all these dramatics and just take the damn ferry!" Is what Dad woulda said.

Now I know whoever is reading this might be like, "Okay #1 this Blogger template is pretty crappy, Lindsay.  And #2 But what about making your OWN decisions and taking CHANCES and getting your OWN hands dirty in the process???"

And to that I say- Yup!  You can do that too!  I've gotten my hands dirty all across this US of A.  I've heard the advice and laughed it off.  And sometimes it's paid off to do my own thang and not play by the rules.  And sometimes I've fallen flat on my ass.  I don't think either way is the wrong way.  I just believe you have nothing to lose by asking advice, or listening to others' stories.

Each person you meet in your life is like a full set of Encyclopedia Britannica- so why not just soak up as much of that knowledge as you can?

Ohmigod remember this guy?  See HE is someone who should have taken his friends' advice and not worn that denim button up.

That's why I started this little Blogger.  Because maybe one of my friends or some random person who accidentally typed in this domain name will read one of my harrowing life tales and be able to relate- or be able to take something away from what I've lived and learned.

Well, that and the boredom.  The boredom is part of the reason I'm doing this, too.

(See?  If I was taking people's advice right now I'd be reading The Hunger Games instead of writing this blog.  Fools!  Mwahahaha!)

So yeah, anyway...


LEARN FROM ME,
Lindsay