The fairest of the seasons.

Hi all. Your Gal Friday here, sitting in her oppresively hot office. I just stood up to walk over to the fax machine and sat down again to find my chair was wet. "Gross! Someone peed in my chair...wait, no. That's my sweaty assy swass. Sick."


This is my sweaty disatisfaction:



And more sweatiness:




WHY IS MY WORK SO SWEATY? Is this the wrath of Tom Cruise and his Scientologists sending me misery and sweatiness? Do notice my shiny new red office though, which is very purdy.

And hey, look! Can you find me in this picture? (Clue: I'm the one with the Beatles haircut.)





BRAINTEASER CONTEST
This weekend, I am going to a state that I have never been to before. Can you guess which one? The person who answers correctly gets a copy of the latest mix cd I made. Oh hell, I'll give you a copy of the mix cd I made anyways. Also, can I propose that we continue to call them Mixtapes even though they're on CDs now because really MIXTAPE flows from the tongue nicely whereas MIX CD just sounds like my tongue tripped over a banana peel.

Dear self, Don't take that shot of Jaeger. Trust me on this. Love, Your Future Self.

Old timey, mari-timey.

I'm sitting here at work, revising the weirdest mix I could make right now. While making a mix CD for my Finnish girlfriend, Nina, a few months ago, Adam told me that I make really weird mixes. Its probably true, I have trouble sticking with one genre or the other, so often times my mixes sound quite disjointed. It also takes me for-ev-er to be really happy with mixes I make for other people, and often they are never finished. Since April, I have made no less than four separate mixes for Adam that remain unfinished. I know, I suck.

So, I was thinking the other day, about this project my psychology teacher made us do for class where we made a mix tape that described who we were as a person. I still have my mix tape somewhere. I think it included the Monkees and probably some God's Reflex, if memory serves. Maybe I'll try that project again soon. And then when I meet people I can say, "Hi, I am Jen and this is a musical version of me." Problem is, I'm not sure I would even know where to start with something like that.

The mix I finished today is so bizarre and skewed that I can't wait to find someone who can appreciate a mix with Annette Funicello's Pineapple Princess, John Lee Hooker, and some Bollywood something or other thrown in for extra dance fun.

Wow, I am in a strange place indeed.

My life is very odd right now.

Summer Jams.

Jen's Summer Jams (Summer Aught-Six)

1. Gnarls Barkley - St. Elsewhere
2. Smoosh - Find a Way
3. Stereolab - Fab Four Suture
4. John Lennon - Legend
5. The Shins - Chutes to Narrow
6. Robbie Williams!
7. The Raconteurs
8. Simon & Garfunkel
9. All Time Quaterback/B.Gibbard mix
10. Regina Spektor - Begin to Hope

Things I Did Not Appreciate About the New Pirate Movie:
Why was the bad guy an octopus face? I do not appreciate pirates giving octopii a bad name.
Why was RattyRatface Orlando Bloom in constant rotation from start to finish?
Johnny Depp did not try to make out with me during the movie.


Photo Series: Best of the Monday Fun Adventure Club, Pt. 1

Sea anus!

I am thinking of having a yard sale soon, but I need to borrow someone's yard? Anyone up for a yard sale? Yaaaaaaaard saaaaaaaale.

Scientology can't save your deformed baby, Tom Cruise. (For DuJane.)

Hi, did you get here hoping you'd find the answers to your soul searching questions, such as: IS TOM CRUISE'S BABY DEFORMED? If so, I encourage you to visit here, where you can find the true answer to this question.

A question of ethics, in the technology era.

I'm wandering around MySpace and trying to make sure that you can't find me by my name (for professional reasons right now) and I find that this girl has my name. Whatever, people have the same name every day. I click on her MySpace page, and she's using the background I created for my old Livejournal account. She most definitely did not ask permission, but I have the log of the date and time she visited this blog and my Livejournal. So, you guys, I'm stumped. I've never had this happen to me before. Its a bit flattering that I am so awesome that someone wants to steal my things, but, it makes me angry that it was stolen without asking permission first.

What does one do in this situation? It is the internet, after all, but seriously, stealing is so lame. Do I send her a message and ask her to remove it? Do I confront her at all and just let it be? She's not giving credit, where it is due.

I have talked about this before, but I never thought I would have to ever deal with something like this first-hand. Has this happened to you before? What would you do in this situation?

Edit: This is the message I sent to her MySpace account:
Hi Jenny,

Hi, so wow. We have the same name. That is pretty awesome, huh? I checked out your MySpace page and it looks strikingly similar to one of my internet journals.

I have not visited your MySpace page prior to today, however, considering that I created my journal's layout over a year ago, I find it odd that our pages should look so similar. I see that you visited my Livejournal back in late June, according to my StatCounter.

While I am glad you did not directly hotlink from my Livejournal page, I did find it a bit alarming (slightly flattering, but alarming nonetheless), I just wanted you to know that I know.

I also noticed on your MySpace page that you studied elementary education in college. I hope that if you are a teacher now, you are teaching your students to be more creative than to steal other people's ideas, slightly alter them, and take credit as their own work.

Well, have a nice day.

Sincerely,
Jen

Happy 230th Birthday, Ohmurca!

Last night, I was driving to JP to help put together the float for the Golf Cart parade, and the drive is really backroads. Winding hills and pretty trees, all that nature junk. So, I'm driving on one of these small backroads when I see a little boy dressed in like George Washington. With his black robe and funny white wig. And then I see a bunch of little kids all dressed up like old timey Ohmurca guys. Sweet! Then suddenly I realize, that on these backroads of Massachusetts, this un-town is having a parade. With firetrucks and old ladies sitting on lawn chairs at the end of the drive. And I am in the middle of it in my dirty Corolla covered in spitballs (that's another story, I suppose). I have a firetruck behind me and the little kids dressed old timey in front of me. So what's a girl to do?

Roll the windows down, turn the Johnny Cash up. Smile and wave like a beauty pageant queen. Throw that handful of mints you stole from the restaurant the other night at the little old ladies.

That's what you do. Then you go make a golf cart look like a dinosaur and do it all over again.