+ Wiiiiiiiiii, accessories, games, etc. (Wii sports is going to make me the most in shape girl which fits nicely into my 2oo8 plans.)
+Octopus necklace
+Crockpot
+Sheets! Blankets! Pajamas!
+Serious Cutting Kitchen Knife.
+Books!
+Homemade canned garlicky pickles & beans (Bloody Marys ho!)
AND. My dad and I went to see Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story which was funny but ridic (which I am totally fine with). It was nice to hang out with my dad solo- it is not something that happens too often anymore (and didn't happen often enough when I lived nearby). 2oo7 has been an amazing year for me + Dad. I am lucky.
Fun fact: I have eaten Beef-A-Roo thrice (3!) this week and it has been nothing short of joygasmic in my mouth. Deluxe Veggie Club combo and Seared Tuna Sandwich combo, thank you. Thank you.
I have never been so sore in all my days. Wii Sports has left me hobbling around this week, but I keep going back for more. Love.the.pain. Bring it.
I'm really glad for all that I did and accomplished in 2oo7. I became a published author! And moved to New York City. Traveling. Rocking out. I am glad for all my new friends and all my old ones.
And now onto 2oo8. I closed my eyes and envisioned the year that lay ahead. And it excites me. Wherever you are out there, I am hoping that 2oo8 excites you, invigorates you, brings you love and passion.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Waiting patiently, stranded in your sea.
We're always waiting. We're always questioning. I can speak to you without words from a world away. This is not a hallucination; this is as real as ever. I miss you. A phone call, a letter, an email- thoroughly unwarranted because you already know the thoughts in my head, the scraps of sticky emotion glued to the walls of my heart.
I couldn't have loved you more.
I couldn't have loved you more.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Clouds in my coffee.
Hello from Illinois!
Due to concentrated amounts of caffeine, moonbeams, and serious lifestyle commitments, I am all about all-night rendezvous(es) lately. There is so much to fit into a single day; I am inhaling every moment. Its like that Aerosmith song or something.
So I am home in Illinois and it is effing cold out. Being here has turned me inward, introspectively speaking. I am focusing and re-focusing my gaze, looking for clarity. Trying to understand which battles to fight. Which battles are worth fighting. No clear answers yet. I should tell you, I should tell you...
Pieces of this life have come full circle. Other parts have grown ever so distant. Is it possible for these two to occur simultaneously?
Truthfully: I don't feel I can be as honest in this space as I want to be (in this little corner of my internet). That is the most truthful statement in this post.
Reflective of 2oo7: quiet New Years (barely a whisper), Colorado, sold my car, NYC, work from home, TexasFloridaIllinoisMinnesotaWisconsinPennsylvaniaNewJerseyDelawareMarylandDCConnecticutMassachusettsKansasOhioWashingtonNorthCarolinaSouthCarolinaFrance!, too much, not enough. Nothing new, everything different.
2oo8: Do not move across the country. Wear earplugs. Japan. Eradicating complacency. Vomit on each form of mass transit in the MTA system. Don't get knocked up. Write you a letter that tells the truth. Maintain Zen-like state. More, more, more.
Due to concentrated amounts of caffeine, moonbeams, and serious lifestyle commitments, I am all about all-night rendezvous(es) lately. There is so much to fit into a single day; I am inhaling every moment. Its like that Aerosmith song or something.
So I am home in Illinois and it is effing cold out. Being here has turned me inward, introspectively speaking. I am focusing and re-focusing my gaze, looking for clarity. Trying to understand which battles to fight. Which battles are worth fighting. No clear answers yet. I should tell you, I should tell you...
Pieces of this life have come full circle. Other parts have grown ever so distant. Is it possible for these two to occur simultaneously?
Truthfully: I don't feel I can be as honest in this space as I want to be (in this little corner of my internet). That is the most truthful statement in this post.
Reflective of 2oo7: quiet New Years (barely a whisper), Colorado, sold my car, NYC, work from home, TexasFloridaIllinoisMinnesotaWisconsinPennsylvaniaNewJerseyDelawareMarylandDCConnecticutMassachusettsKansasOhioWashingtonNorthCarolinaSouthCarolinaFrance!, too much, not enough. Nothing new, everything different.
2oo8: Do not move across the country. Wear earplugs. Japan. Eradicating complacency. Vomit on each form of mass transit in the MTA system. Don't get knocked up. Write you a letter that tells the truth. Maintain Zen-like state. More, more, more.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Myspace: Not just for the emos.
You guys. I have laughed and mocked all these Fox News reports recently warning parents about "emos" and "Myspace". But I find this to be staggeringly heartbreaking: http://stcharlesjournal.stltoday.com/articles/2007/11/24/news/sj2tn20071110-1111stc_pokin_1.ii1.txt
As a kid who had a pretty depressing time in junior high at the hands of cruel peers, it is utterly nauseating to me to think that adults-parents- could be so careless, so cruel, so maniacal. Apparently, this story has received a lot of press lately. What do you think, Internet?
Here's the full article:
POKIN AROUND: A real person, a real death
By Steve Pokin
Tuesday, November 13, 2007 2:55 PM CST
Tina and Ron Meier look up at the mausoleum gravesite of their daughter Megan, who would have been 15 on Nov. 6.
His name was Josh Evans. He was 16 years old. And he was hot.
"Mom! Mom! Mom! Look at him!" Tina Meier recalls her daughter saying.
Josh had contacted Megan Meier through her MySpace page and wanted to be added as a friend.Yes, he's cute, Tina Meier told her daughter. "Do you know who he is?"
"No, but look at him! He's hot! Please, please, can I add him?"
Mom said yes. And for six weeks Megan and Josh - under Tina's watchful eye - became acquainted in the virtual world of MySpace.
Josh said he was born in Florida and recently had moved to O'Fallon. He was homeschooled. He played the guitar and drums.
He was from a broken home: "when i was 7 my dad left me and my mom and my older brother and my newborn brother 3 boys god i know poor mom yeah she had such a hard time when we were younger finding work to pay for us after he loeft."
As for 13-year-old Megan, of Dardenne Prairie, this is how she expressed who she was:
M is for Modern
E is for Enthusiastic
G is for Goofy
A is for Alluring
N is for Neglected.
She loved swimming, boating, fishing, dogs, rap music and boys. But her life had not always been easy, her mother says.
She was heavy and for years had tried to lose weight. She had attention deficit disorder and battled depression. Back in third grade she had talked about suicide, Tina says, and ever since had seen a therapist.
But things were going exceptionally well. She had shed 20 pounds, getting down to 175. She was 5 foot 5½ inches tall.
She had just started eighth grade at a new school, Immaculate Conception, in Dardenne Prairie, where she was on the volleyball team. She had attended Fort Zumwalt public schools before that.
Amid all these positives, Tina says, her daughter decided to end a friendship with a girlfriend who lived down the street from them. The girls had spent much of seventh grade alternating between being friends and, the next day, not being friends, Tina says.
Part of the reason for Megan's rosy outlook was Josh, Tina says. After school, Megan would rush to the computer.
"Megan had a lifelong struggle with weight and self-esteem," Tina says. "And now she finally had a boy who she thought really thought she was pretty."
It did seem odd, Tina says, that Josh never asked for Megan's phone number. And when Megan asked for his, she says, Josh said he didn't have a cell and his mother did not yet have a landline.
And then on Sunday, Oct. 15, 2006, Megan received a puzzling and disturbing message from Josh. Tina recalls that it said: "I don't know if I want to be friends with you anymore because I've heard that you are not very nice to your friends."
Frantic, Megan shot back: "What are you talking about?"
SHADOWY CYBERSPACE
Tina Meier was wary of the cyber-world of MySpace and its 70 million users. People are not always who they say they are.
Tina knew firsthand. Megan and the girl down the block, the former friend, once had created a fake MySpace account, using the photo of a good-looking girl as a way to talk to boys online, Tina says. When Tina found out, she ended Megan's access.
MySpace has rules. A lot of them. There are nine pages of terms and conditions. The long list of prohibited content includes sexual material. And users must be at least 14.
"Are you joking?" Tina asks. "There are fifth-grade girls who have MySpace accounts."
As for sexual content, Tina says, most parents have no clue how much there is. And Megan wasn't 14 when she opened her account. To join, you are asked your age but there is no check. The accounts are free.
As Megan's 14th birthday approached, she pleaded for her mom to give her another chance on MySpace, and Tina relented.
She told Megan she would be all over this account, monitoring it. Megan didn't always make good choices because of her ADD, Tina says. And this time, Megan's page would be set to private and only Mom and Dad would have the password.
'GOD-AWFUL FEELING'
Monday, Oct. 16, 2006, was a rainy, bleak day. At school, Megan had handed out invitations to her upcoming birthday party and when she got home she asked her mother to log on to MySpace to see if Josh had responded.
Why did he suddenly think she was mean? Who had he been talking to?
Tina signed on. But she was in a hurry. She had to take her younger daughter, Allison, to the orthodontist.
Before Tina could get out the door it was clear Megan was upset. Josh still was sending troubling messages. And he apparently had shared some of Megan's messages with others.
Tina recalled telling Megan to sign off.
"I will Mom," Megan said. "Let me finish up."
Tina was pressed for time. She had to go. But once at the orthodontist's office she called Megan: Did you sign off?
"No, Mom. They are all being so mean to me."
"You are not listening to me, Megan! Sign off, now!"
Fifteen minutes later, Megan called her mother. By now Megan was in tears.
"They are posting bulletins about me." A bulletin is like a survey. "Megan Meier is a slut. Megan Meier is fat."
Megan was sobbing hysterically. Tina was furious that she had not signed off.
Once Tina returned home she rushed into the basement where the computer was. Tina was shocked at the vulgar language her daughter was firing back at people.
"I am so aggravated at you for doing this!" she told Megan.
Megan ran from the computer and left, but not without first telling Tina, "You're supposed to be my mom! You're supposed to be on my side!"
On the stairway leading to her second-story bedroom, Megan ran into her father, Ron.
"I grabbed her as she tried to go by," Ron says. "She told me that some kids were saying horrible stuff about her and she didn't understand why. I told her it's OK. I told her that they obviously don't know her. And that it would be fine."
Megan went to her room and Ron went downstairs to the kitchen, where he and Tina talked about what had happened, the MySpace account, and made dinner.
Twenty minutes later, Tina suddenly froze in mid-sentence.
"I had this God-awful feeling and I ran up into her room and she had hung herself in the closet."
Megan Taylor Meier died the next day, three weeks before her 14th birthday.
Later that day, Ron opened his daughter's MySpace account and viewed what he believes to be the final message Megan saw - one the FBI would be unable to retrieve from the hard drive.
It was from Josh and, according to Ron's best recollection, it said, "Everybody in O'Fallon knows how you are. You are a bad person and everybody hates you. Have a shitty rest of your life. The world would be a better place without you."
BEYOND GRIEF INTO FURY
Tina and Ron saw a grief counselor. Tina went to a couple of Parents After Loss of Suicide meetings, as well.
They tried to message Josh Evans, to let him know the deadly power of mean words. But his MySpace account had been deleted.
The day after Megan's death, they went down the street to comfort the family of the girl who had once been Megan's friend. They let the girl and her family know that although she and Megan had their ups and down, Megan valued her friendship.
They also attended the girl's birthday party, although Ron had to leave when it came time to sing "Happy Birthday." The Meiers went to the father's 50th birthday celebration. In addition, the Meiers stored a foosball table, a Christmas gift, for that family.
Six weeks after Megan died, on a Saturday morning, a neighbor down the street, a different neighbor, one they didn't know well, called and insisted that they meet that morning at a counselor's office in northern O'Fallon.
The woman would not provide details. Ron and Tina went. Their grief counselor was there. As well as a counselor from Fort Zumwalt West Middle School.
The neighbor from down the street, a single mom with a daughter the same age as Megan, informed the Meiers that Josh Evans never existed.
She told the Meiers that Josh Evans was created by adults, a family on their block. These adults, she told the Meiers, were the parents of Megan's former girlfriend, the one with whom she had a falling out. These were the people who'd asked the Meiers to store their foosball table.
The single mother, for this story, requested that her name not be used. She said her daughter, who had carpooled with the family that was involved in creating the phony MySpace account, had the password to the Josh Evans account and had sent one message - the one Megan received (and later retrieved off the hard drive) the night before she took her life.
"She had been encouraged to join in the joke," the single mother said.
The single mother said her daughter feels the guilt of not saying something sooner and for writing that message. Her daughter didn't speak out sooner because she'd known the other family for years and thought that what they were doing must be OK because, after all, they were trusted adults.
On the night the ambulance came for Megan, the single mother said, before it left the Meiers' house her daughter received a call. It was the woman behind the creation of the Josh Evans account. She had called to tell the girl that something had happened to Megan and advised the girl not to mention the MySpace account.
AX AND SLEDGEHAMMER
The Meiers went home and tore into the foosball table.
Tina used an ax and Ron a sledgehammer. They put the pieces in Ron's pickup and dumped them in their neighbor's driveway. Tina spray painted "Merry Christmas" on the box.
According to Tina, Megan had gone on vacations with this family. They knew how she struggled with depression, that she took medication.
"I know that they did not physically come up to our house and tie a belt around her neck," Tina says. "But when adults are involved and continue to screw with a 13-year-old - with or without mental problems - it is absolutely vile.
"She wanted to get Megan to feel like she was liked by a boy and let everyone know this was a false MySpace and have everyone laugh at her.
"I don't feel their intentions were for her to kill herself. But that's how it ended."
'GAINING MEGAN'S CONFIDENCE'
That same day, the family down the street tried to talk to the Meiers. Ron asked friends to convince them to leave before he physically harmed them.
In a letter dated Nov. 30, 2006, the family tells Ron and Tina, "We are sorry for the extreme pain you are going through and can only imagine how difficult it must be. We have every compassion for you and your family."
The Suburban Journals have decided not to name the family out of consideration for their teenage daughter.
The mother declined comment.
"I have been advised not to give out any information and I apologize for that," she says. "I would love to sit here and talk to you about it but I can't."
She was informed that without her direct comment the newspaper would rely heavily on the police report she filed with the St. Charles County Sheriff's Department regarding the destroyed foosball table.
"I will tell you that the police report is totally wrong," the mother said. "We have worked on getting that changed. I would just be very careful about what you write."
Lt. Craig McGuire, spokesman for the sheriff's department, said he is unaware of anyone contacting the department to alter the report.
"We stand behind the report as written," McGuire says. "There was no supplement to it. What is in the report is what we believe she told us."
The police report - without using the mother's name - states:
"(She) stated in the months leading up Meier's daughter's suicide, she instigated and monitored a 'my space' account which was created for the sole purpose of communicating with Meier's daughter.
"(She) said she, with the help of temporary employee named ------ constructed a profile of 'good looking' male on 'my space' in order to 'find out what Megan (Meier's daughter) was saying on-line' about her daughter. (She) explained the communication between the fake male profile and Megan was aimed at gaining Megan's confidence and finding out what Megan felt about her daughter and other people.
"(She) stated she, her daughter and (the temporary employee) all typed, read and monitored the communication between the fake male profile and Megan …..
"According to (her) 'somehow' other 'my space' users were able to access the fake male profile and Megan found out she had been duped. (She) stated she knew 'arguments' had broken out between Megan and others on 'my space.' (She) felt this incident contributed to Megan's suicide, but she did not feel 'as guilty' because at the funeral she found out 'Megan had tried to commit suicide before.'"
Tina says her daughter died thinking Josh was real and that she never before attempted suicide.
"She was the happiest she had ever been in her life," Ron says.
After years of wearing braces, Megan was scheduled to have them removed the day she died. And she was looking forward to her birthday party.
"She and her mom went shopping and bought a new dress," Ron says. "She wanted to make this grand entrance with me carrying her down the stairs. I never got to see her in that dress until the funeral."
NO CRIMINAL CHARGES
It does not appear that there will be criminal charges filed in connection with Megan's death.
"We did not have a charge to fit it," McGuire says. "I don't know that anybody can sit down and say, 'This is why this young girl took her life.'"
The Meiers say the matter also was investigated by the FBI, which analyzed the family computer and conducted interviews. Ron said a stumbling block is that the FBI was unable to retrieve the electronic messages from Megan's final day, including that final message that only Ron saw.
The Meiers do not plan to file a civil lawsuit. Here's what they want: They want the law changed, state or federal, so that what happened to Megan - at the hands of an adult - is a crime.
THE AFTERMATH IS PAIN
The Meiers are divorcing. Ron says Tina was as vigilant as a parent could be in monitoring Megan on MySpace. Yet she blames herself.
"I have this awful, horrible guilt and this I can never change," she said. "Ever."
Ron struggles daily with the loss of a daughter who, no matter how low she felt, tried to make others laugh and feel a little bit better.
He has difficulty maintaining focus and has kept his job as a tool and die maker through the grace and understanding of his employer, he says. His emotions remain jagged, on edge.
Christine Buckles lives in the same Waterford Crossing subdivision. In her view, everyone in the subdivision knows of Megan's death, but few know of the other family's involvement.
Tina says she and Ron have dissuaded angry friends and family members from vandalizing the other home for one, and only one, reason.
"The police will think we did it," Tina says.
Ron faces a misdemeanor charge of property damage. He is accused of driving his truck across the lawn of the family down the street, doing $1,000 in damage, in March. A security camera the neighbors installed on their home allegedly caught him.
It was Tina, a real estate agent, who helped the other family purchase their home on the same block 2½ years ago.
"I just wish they would go away, move," Ron says.
Vicki Dunn, Tina's aunt, last month placed signs in and near the neighborhood on the anniversary of Megan's death.
They read: "Justice for Megan Meier," "Call the St. Charles County Prosecuting Attorney," and "MySpace Impersonator in Your Neighborhood."
On the window outside Megan's room is an ornamental angel that Ron turns on almost every night. Inside are pictures of boys, posters of Usher, Beyonce and on the dresser a tube of instant bronzer.
"She was all about getting a tan," Ron says.
He has placed the doors back on the closet. Megan had them off.
If only she had waited, talked to someone, or just made it to dinner, then through the evening, and then on to the beginning of a new day in what could have been a remarkable life.
If she had, he says, there is no doubt she would have chosen to live. Instead, there is so much pain.
"She never would have wanted to see her parents divorce," Ron says.
Ultimately, it was Megan's choice to do what she did, he says. "But it was like someone handed her a loaded gun."
As a kid who had a pretty depressing time in junior high at the hands of cruel peers, it is utterly nauseating to me to think that adults-parents- could be so careless, so cruel, so maniacal. Apparently, this story has received a lot of press lately. What do you think, Internet?
Here's the full article:
POKIN AROUND: A real person, a real death
By Steve Pokin
Tuesday, November 13, 2007 2:55 PM CST
Tina and Ron Meier look up at the mausoleum gravesite of their daughter Megan, who would have been 15 on Nov. 6.
His name was Josh Evans. He was 16 years old. And he was hot.
"Mom! Mom! Mom! Look at him!" Tina Meier recalls her daughter saying.
Josh had contacted Megan Meier through her MySpace page and wanted to be added as a friend.Yes, he's cute, Tina Meier told her daughter. "Do you know who he is?"
"No, but look at him! He's hot! Please, please, can I add him?"
Mom said yes. And for six weeks Megan and Josh - under Tina's watchful eye - became acquainted in the virtual world of MySpace.
Josh said he was born in Florida and recently had moved to O'Fallon. He was homeschooled. He played the guitar and drums.
He was from a broken home: "when i was 7 my dad left me and my mom and my older brother and my newborn brother 3 boys god i know poor mom yeah she had such a hard time when we were younger finding work to pay for us after he loeft."
As for 13-year-old Megan, of Dardenne Prairie, this is how she expressed who she was:
M is for Modern
E is for Enthusiastic
G is for Goofy
A is for Alluring
N is for Neglected.
She loved swimming, boating, fishing, dogs, rap music and boys. But her life had not always been easy, her mother says.
She was heavy and for years had tried to lose weight. She had attention deficit disorder and battled depression. Back in third grade she had talked about suicide, Tina says, and ever since had seen a therapist.
But things were going exceptionally well. She had shed 20 pounds, getting down to 175. She was 5 foot 5½ inches tall.
She had just started eighth grade at a new school, Immaculate Conception, in Dardenne Prairie, where she was on the volleyball team. She had attended Fort Zumwalt public schools before that.
Amid all these positives, Tina says, her daughter decided to end a friendship with a girlfriend who lived down the street from them. The girls had spent much of seventh grade alternating between being friends and, the next day, not being friends, Tina says.
Part of the reason for Megan's rosy outlook was Josh, Tina says. After school, Megan would rush to the computer.
"Megan had a lifelong struggle with weight and self-esteem," Tina says. "And now she finally had a boy who she thought really thought she was pretty."
It did seem odd, Tina says, that Josh never asked for Megan's phone number. And when Megan asked for his, she says, Josh said he didn't have a cell and his mother did not yet have a landline.
And then on Sunday, Oct. 15, 2006, Megan received a puzzling and disturbing message from Josh. Tina recalls that it said: "I don't know if I want to be friends with you anymore because I've heard that you are not very nice to your friends."
Frantic, Megan shot back: "What are you talking about?"
SHADOWY CYBERSPACE
Tina Meier was wary of the cyber-world of MySpace and its 70 million users. People are not always who they say they are.
Tina knew firsthand. Megan and the girl down the block, the former friend, once had created a fake MySpace account, using the photo of a good-looking girl as a way to talk to boys online, Tina says. When Tina found out, she ended Megan's access.
MySpace has rules. A lot of them. There are nine pages of terms and conditions. The long list of prohibited content includes sexual material. And users must be at least 14.
"Are you joking?" Tina asks. "There are fifth-grade girls who have MySpace accounts."
As for sexual content, Tina says, most parents have no clue how much there is. And Megan wasn't 14 when she opened her account. To join, you are asked your age but there is no check. The accounts are free.
As Megan's 14th birthday approached, she pleaded for her mom to give her another chance on MySpace, and Tina relented.
She told Megan she would be all over this account, monitoring it. Megan didn't always make good choices because of her ADD, Tina says. And this time, Megan's page would be set to private and only Mom and Dad would have the password.
'GOD-AWFUL FEELING'
Monday, Oct. 16, 2006, was a rainy, bleak day. At school, Megan had handed out invitations to her upcoming birthday party and when she got home she asked her mother to log on to MySpace to see if Josh had responded.
Why did he suddenly think she was mean? Who had he been talking to?
Tina signed on. But she was in a hurry. She had to take her younger daughter, Allison, to the orthodontist.
Before Tina could get out the door it was clear Megan was upset. Josh still was sending troubling messages. And he apparently had shared some of Megan's messages with others.
Tina recalled telling Megan to sign off.
"I will Mom," Megan said. "Let me finish up."
Tina was pressed for time. She had to go. But once at the orthodontist's office she called Megan: Did you sign off?
"No, Mom. They are all being so mean to me."
"You are not listening to me, Megan! Sign off, now!"
Fifteen minutes later, Megan called her mother. By now Megan was in tears.
"They are posting bulletins about me." A bulletin is like a survey. "Megan Meier is a slut. Megan Meier is fat."
Megan was sobbing hysterically. Tina was furious that she had not signed off.
Once Tina returned home she rushed into the basement where the computer was. Tina was shocked at the vulgar language her daughter was firing back at people.
"I am so aggravated at you for doing this!" she told Megan.
Megan ran from the computer and left, but not without first telling Tina, "You're supposed to be my mom! You're supposed to be on my side!"
On the stairway leading to her second-story bedroom, Megan ran into her father, Ron.
"I grabbed her as she tried to go by," Ron says. "She told me that some kids were saying horrible stuff about her and she didn't understand why. I told her it's OK. I told her that they obviously don't know her. And that it would be fine."
Megan went to her room and Ron went downstairs to the kitchen, where he and Tina talked about what had happened, the MySpace account, and made dinner.
Twenty minutes later, Tina suddenly froze in mid-sentence.
"I had this God-awful feeling and I ran up into her room and she had hung herself in the closet."
Megan Taylor Meier died the next day, three weeks before her 14th birthday.
Later that day, Ron opened his daughter's MySpace account and viewed what he believes to be the final message Megan saw - one the FBI would be unable to retrieve from the hard drive.
It was from Josh and, according to Ron's best recollection, it said, "Everybody in O'Fallon knows how you are. You are a bad person and everybody hates you. Have a shitty rest of your life. The world would be a better place without you."
BEYOND GRIEF INTO FURY
Tina and Ron saw a grief counselor. Tina went to a couple of Parents After Loss of Suicide meetings, as well.
They tried to message Josh Evans, to let him know the deadly power of mean words. But his MySpace account had been deleted.
The day after Megan's death, they went down the street to comfort the family of the girl who had once been Megan's friend. They let the girl and her family know that although she and Megan had their ups and down, Megan valued her friendship.
They also attended the girl's birthday party, although Ron had to leave when it came time to sing "Happy Birthday." The Meiers went to the father's 50th birthday celebration. In addition, the Meiers stored a foosball table, a Christmas gift, for that family.
Six weeks after Megan died, on a Saturday morning, a neighbor down the street, a different neighbor, one they didn't know well, called and insisted that they meet that morning at a counselor's office in northern O'Fallon.
The woman would not provide details. Ron and Tina went. Their grief counselor was there. As well as a counselor from Fort Zumwalt West Middle School.
The neighbor from down the street, a single mom with a daughter the same age as Megan, informed the Meiers that Josh Evans never existed.
She told the Meiers that Josh Evans was created by adults, a family on their block. These adults, she told the Meiers, were the parents of Megan's former girlfriend, the one with whom she had a falling out. These were the people who'd asked the Meiers to store their foosball table.
The single mother, for this story, requested that her name not be used. She said her daughter, who had carpooled with the family that was involved in creating the phony MySpace account, had the password to the Josh Evans account and had sent one message - the one Megan received (and later retrieved off the hard drive) the night before she took her life.
"She had been encouraged to join in the joke," the single mother said.
The single mother said her daughter feels the guilt of not saying something sooner and for writing that message. Her daughter didn't speak out sooner because she'd known the other family for years and thought that what they were doing must be OK because, after all, they were trusted adults.
On the night the ambulance came for Megan, the single mother said, before it left the Meiers' house her daughter received a call. It was the woman behind the creation of the Josh Evans account. She had called to tell the girl that something had happened to Megan and advised the girl not to mention the MySpace account.
AX AND SLEDGEHAMMER
The Meiers went home and tore into the foosball table.
Tina used an ax and Ron a sledgehammer. They put the pieces in Ron's pickup and dumped them in their neighbor's driveway. Tina spray painted "Merry Christmas" on the box.
According to Tina, Megan had gone on vacations with this family. They knew how she struggled with depression, that she took medication.
"I know that they did not physically come up to our house and tie a belt around her neck," Tina says. "But when adults are involved and continue to screw with a 13-year-old - with or without mental problems - it is absolutely vile.
"She wanted to get Megan to feel like she was liked by a boy and let everyone know this was a false MySpace and have everyone laugh at her.
"I don't feel their intentions were for her to kill herself. But that's how it ended."
'GAINING MEGAN'S CONFIDENCE'
That same day, the family down the street tried to talk to the Meiers. Ron asked friends to convince them to leave before he physically harmed them.
In a letter dated Nov. 30, 2006, the family tells Ron and Tina, "We are sorry for the extreme pain you are going through and can only imagine how difficult it must be. We have every compassion for you and your family."
The Suburban Journals have decided not to name the family out of consideration for their teenage daughter.
The mother declined comment.
"I have been advised not to give out any information and I apologize for that," she says. "I would love to sit here and talk to you about it but I can't."
She was informed that without her direct comment the newspaper would rely heavily on the police report she filed with the St. Charles County Sheriff's Department regarding the destroyed foosball table.
"I will tell you that the police report is totally wrong," the mother said. "We have worked on getting that changed. I would just be very careful about what you write."
Lt. Craig McGuire, spokesman for the sheriff's department, said he is unaware of anyone contacting the department to alter the report.
"We stand behind the report as written," McGuire says. "There was no supplement to it. What is in the report is what we believe she told us."
The police report - without using the mother's name - states:
"(She) stated in the months leading up Meier's daughter's suicide, she instigated and monitored a 'my space' account which was created for the sole purpose of communicating with Meier's daughter.
"(She) said she, with the help of temporary employee named ------ constructed a profile of 'good looking' male on 'my space' in order to 'find out what Megan (Meier's daughter) was saying on-line' about her daughter. (She) explained the communication between the fake male profile and Megan was aimed at gaining Megan's confidence and finding out what Megan felt about her daughter and other people.
"(She) stated she, her daughter and (the temporary employee) all typed, read and monitored the communication between the fake male profile and Megan …..
"According to (her) 'somehow' other 'my space' users were able to access the fake male profile and Megan found out she had been duped. (She) stated she knew 'arguments' had broken out between Megan and others on 'my space.' (She) felt this incident contributed to Megan's suicide, but she did not feel 'as guilty' because at the funeral she found out 'Megan had tried to commit suicide before.'"
Tina says her daughter died thinking Josh was real and that she never before attempted suicide.
"She was the happiest she had ever been in her life," Ron says.
After years of wearing braces, Megan was scheduled to have them removed the day she died. And she was looking forward to her birthday party.
"She and her mom went shopping and bought a new dress," Ron says. "She wanted to make this grand entrance with me carrying her down the stairs. I never got to see her in that dress until the funeral."
NO CRIMINAL CHARGES
It does not appear that there will be criminal charges filed in connection with Megan's death.
"We did not have a charge to fit it," McGuire says. "I don't know that anybody can sit down and say, 'This is why this young girl took her life.'"
The Meiers say the matter also was investigated by the FBI, which analyzed the family computer and conducted interviews. Ron said a stumbling block is that the FBI was unable to retrieve the electronic messages from Megan's final day, including that final message that only Ron saw.
The Meiers do not plan to file a civil lawsuit. Here's what they want: They want the law changed, state or federal, so that what happened to Megan - at the hands of an adult - is a crime.
THE AFTERMATH IS PAIN
The Meiers are divorcing. Ron says Tina was as vigilant as a parent could be in monitoring Megan on MySpace. Yet she blames herself.
"I have this awful, horrible guilt and this I can never change," she said. "Ever."
Ron struggles daily with the loss of a daughter who, no matter how low she felt, tried to make others laugh and feel a little bit better.
He has difficulty maintaining focus and has kept his job as a tool and die maker through the grace and understanding of his employer, he says. His emotions remain jagged, on edge.
Christine Buckles lives in the same Waterford Crossing subdivision. In her view, everyone in the subdivision knows of Megan's death, but few know of the other family's involvement.
Tina says she and Ron have dissuaded angry friends and family members from vandalizing the other home for one, and only one, reason.
"The police will think we did it," Tina says.
Ron faces a misdemeanor charge of property damage. He is accused of driving his truck across the lawn of the family down the street, doing $1,000 in damage, in March. A security camera the neighbors installed on their home allegedly caught him.
It was Tina, a real estate agent, who helped the other family purchase their home on the same block 2½ years ago.
"I just wish they would go away, move," Ron says.
Vicki Dunn, Tina's aunt, last month placed signs in and near the neighborhood on the anniversary of Megan's death.
They read: "Justice for Megan Meier," "Call the St. Charles County Prosecuting Attorney," and "MySpace Impersonator in Your Neighborhood."
On the window outside Megan's room is an ornamental angel that Ron turns on almost every night. Inside are pictures of boys, posters of Usher, Beyonce and on the dresser a tube of instant bronzer.
"She was all about getting a tan," Ron says.
He has placed the doors back on the closet. Megan had them off.
If only she had waited, talked to someone, or just made it to dinner, then through the evening, and then on to the beginning of a new day in what could have been a remarkable life.
If she had, he says, there is no doubt she would have chosen to live. Instead, there is so much pain.
"She never would have wanted to see her parents divorce," Ron says.
Ultimately, it was Megan's choice to do what she did, he says. "But it was like someone handed her a loaded gun."
Monday, December 10, 2007
Notes from a weekend.
Amy Sedaris said she liked my owl necklace and wanted to steal it. Her gay mafia communicated this to me. Do not speak directly to the Amy Sedaris.
This was a weekend of terrible customer service. A weekend of Polish diners, subtly themed emo bars, and outrageously themed Southern restaurants. A weekend of starting dance parties in 24 hour diners in Alphabet City.
Staying out until 5 am, only to marvel at the Christmas decorations on the walk home from the subway. These nights make me feel like a nouveau Holly Golightly. Avoiding awkward encounters with boys at bars simultaneously while flirting with the hipster bartender; wandering into your friends at the diner at 3 am and promising you're not drunk but that you're just here to dance!
Apartment number three smells strongly of cooked eggs.
This was a weekend of terrible customer service. A weekend of Polish diners, subtly themed emo bars, and outrageously themed Southern restaurants. A weekend of starting dance parties in 24 hour diners in Alphabet City.
Staying out until 5 am, only to marvel at the Christmas decorations on the walk home from the subway. These nights make me feel like a nouveau Holly Golightly. Avoiding awkward encounters with boys at bars simultaneously while flirting with the hipster bartender; wandering into your friends at the diner at 3 am and promising you're not drunk but that you're just here to dance!
Apartment number three smells strongly of cooked eggs.
Friday, December 07, 2007
I-D-K! my B-F-F, Jill.
You guys! I've been half-heartedly attempting to post for the past month about my experience seeing the Broadway (jazz hands!) musical, Spring Awakening. But I've been struggling to accurately explain how ridiculous, uncomfortable, and BAD this musical was. I was also informed that no one ever says truly scathing remarks about Broadway because there is an underlying knowledge that because it is a for-profit, mainstream "art" it will inherently suck. Which is probably true. But if we're being fair, I've seen enough low budget definitely not-profiting art that blows too.
A couple weeks ago, I became OBSESSED with finding others on the internet who loathed Spring Awakening as much as I did. And there's about 2 people in the universe that are willing to say it on the internet (and I'm one of them). There are about 9375203958 Rent fanatics that are willing to bash Spring Awakening as part of their effort to hold Rent up on high. The two are apples and oranges, really, so it seems unfair, but for the sake of feeling part of a larger movement, I'll take those snobby Rent-heads as being on my side on this one. I like Rent, but I don't like Rent because its better than Spring Awakening.
I hope this comes up in Google searches: Spring Awakening sucks.
Enough about that.
I've been overloaded by music lately. Here's what I've been listening to:
Justice - Cross (electrono dance fun)
Candie Payne - I Wish I Could Have Loved You More (noveau Dusty-esque 60s pop)
DJ Vinroc - No idear of the name of this album. Its weird as all get out.
Japanther - Stuffed Up My Huffy (Brooklyn noise-rock-pop goodness.)
Since October I've been saying I can't wait for it to be January and for everything to calm down, but I may have spoken too early when I thought that January would be calm. Because it will be a busy month indeed! I hope by admitting this, the gods of busy schedules will take some pity on me.
Also: hooray on being 97% finished with holiday shopping! hooray for the Bust Craftacular tomorrow! hooray for NYC! (this city only gets better and better.) I bought myself this for Christmas and am upgrading the memory to 4gb (for work purposes, so not really a present at all!)
And hey, is your life complete without having seen this? I think not!
A couple weeks ago, I became OBSESSED with finding others on the internet who loathed Spring Awakening as much as I did. And there's about 2 people in the universe that are willing to say it on the internet (and I'm one of them). There are about 9375203958 Rent fanatics that are willing to bash Spring Awakening as part of their effort to hold Rent up on high. The two are apples and oranges, really, so it seems unfair, but for the sake of feeling part of a larger movement, I'll take those snobby Rent-heads as being on my side on this one. I like Rent, but I don't like Rent because its better than Spring Awakening.
I hope this comes up in Google searches: Spring Awakening sucks.
Enough about that.
I've been overloaded by music lately. Here's what I've been listening to:
Justice - Cross (electrono dance fun)
Candie Payne - I Wish I Could Have Loved You More (noveau Dusty-esque 60s pop)
DJ Vinroc - No idear of the name of this album. Its weird as all get out.
Japanther - Stuffed Up My Huffy (Brooklyn noise-rock-pop goodness.)
Since October I've been saying I can't wait for it to be January and for everything to calm down, but I may have spoken too early when I thought that January would be calm. Because it will be a busy month indeed! I hope by admitting this, the gods of busy schedules will take some pity on me.
Also: hooray on being 97% finished with holiday shopping! hooray for the Bust Craftacular tomorrow! hooray for NYC! (this city only gets better and better.) I bought myself this for Christmas and am upgrading the memory to 4gb (for work purposes, so not really a present at all!)
And hey, is your life complete without having seen this? I think not!
Monday, November 19, 2007
!!!
I owe a million thanks to everyone who sent birthday wishes my way! I had an awesome day playing at the Ripley's Believe It Or Not in Times Square, watching Broadway stagehands picket outside the Lion King, and went to some crazy performance art in the East Village (more on that later because suffice to say, I have seen some really *weird* art before, but this is filed under WTF?).
Actually, let's talk about the performance art right now.
In the center ring, we have Brooklyn, noise-rock, experimental, whatever whatever band, Japanther. To your right, old man spoken word artist. To your left, a low budget, animatronic dinosaur. And dancing all around, two girls outfitted in your favorite American Apparel ensembles. Now throw it all together. My understanding was that this was supposed to be a "rock opera" about the death of the animatronic dinosaur and then in death, he questions his understanding of all his philosophies about life. Yeaaahhhhhhh. In a really weird way, I enjoyed it, even if I didn't quite get it. Japanther make some great songs, so there's that.
It was a fun birthday. Thanks friends!
Actually, let's talk about the performance art right now.
In the center ring, we have Brooklyn, noise-rock, experimental, whatever whatever band, Japanther. To your right, old man spoken word artist. To your left, a low budget, animatronic dinosaur. And dancing all around, two girls outfitted in your favorite American Apparel ensembles. Now throw it all together. My understanding was that this was supposed to be a "rock opera" about the death of the animatronic dinosaur and then in death, he questions his understanding of all his philosophies about life. Yeaaahhhhhhh. In a really weird way, I enjoyed it, even if I didn't quite get it. Japanther make some great songs, so there's that.
It was a fun birthday. Thanks friends!
Friday, November 02, 2007
Blog for a Tuesday.
Brad tagged me to do this blog thing. And you know what? I'm just gonna do it. No one has ever tagged me for one of these things before! I'm an e-loser.
15 weird traits, habits, idiosyncracies you didn't know about Jen:
1. I have broken or jammed my finger 10 times- all happened in the span of 7th - 10th grade. Consequently, I have arthritic tendancies during the winter or when my hands get cold.
2. I can play the ukelele.
3. I was a national dance championship in the 7th grade. It was for a ballet routine to the song "People" by Barbara Streisand.
4. I drink iced coffee in the summer and hot tea in the cold months.
5. I poop at the same time every day: 10:30am. I have pooped at this time every day since 2002 when I became a vegetarian. I'm not a vegetarian anymore, but I still poop at the same time every day.
6. I have some mild hearing loss from years of attending punk, ska, and indie shows (LOUD) without earplugs in my younger years. Shame on me! If you are facing away from me, I have trouble hearing what you're saying clearly. I can hear that you've said something, but I'm not always sure what. If I ask you "What?" its because I didn't hear you, not because I wasn't listening. Wear your earplugs at rock & roll shows!
7. I collect smashed pennies. You know those machines where you put 2 quarters and a penny and then turn the crank and it smashes a design into your penny? Yes, those. I collect them. I keep one in the zip pouch of my Kangaroo sneakers though I rotate which penny it is.
8. I have never done my own taxes, but I will have to do them for the first time ever this year. I am very scared about it.
9. I do NOT get nervous speaking in front of people. I never have. However, I get downright terrified auditioning for plays and talking on the phone.
10. I have led a webinar/teleconference in my underpants. Twice.
11. In high school, I convinced everyone my middle name was Pizzazz. At graduation when they announced my real middle name, most people were confused. I have often considered changing my middle name to Pizzazz ever since. Actually, if I could change my name to anything it would be: Jenny Pizzazz Marvel.
12. Adam asked me if I knew who the Fabulous Moolah was. Embarassingly, I told him, "She's that lady wrestler from the 1970s." I know this because I watched WWF wrestling religiously as a kid.
13. I was the captain of my high school golf team. Oddly, I was also the worst player. My assistant coach (a middle aged lesbian named Dolly with spiky gray hair and an unnatural obsession with Xena, Warrior Princess) almost kicked me off the team and gave me this sound advice (which I didn't take to heart since I had no intention of doing either): "They give more college scholarships for golf than they do for theater!"
14. I took Donovan shopping at K-Mart for black pants once. We bought a pair of black pants in the ladies section.
15. I watched the movie Josie & The Pussycats at least once (sometimes 2 or 3 times) a day my entire sophomore year of college. I can and still quote lines from that movie.
I'm not going to tag anyone. If you want to do it, then do it!
15 weird traits, habits, idiosyncracies you didn't know about Jen:
1. I have broken or jammed my finger 10 times- all happened in the span of 7th - 10th grade. Consequently, I have arthritic tendancies during the winter or when my hands get cold.
2. I can play the ukelele.
3. I was a national dance championship in the 7th grade. It was for a ballet routine to the song "People" by Barbara Streisand.
4. I drink iced coffee in the summer and hot tea in the cold months.
5. I poop at the same time every day: 10:30am. I have pooped at this time every day since 2002 when I became a vegetarian. I'm not a vegetarian anymore, but I still poop at the same time every day.
6. I have some mild hearing loss from years of attending punk, ska, and indie shows (LOUD) without earplugs in my younger years. Shame on me! If you are facing away from me, I have trouble hearing what you're saying clearly. I can hear that you've said something, but I'm not always sure what. If I ask you "What?" its because I didn't hear you, not because I wasn't listening. Wear your earplugs at rock & roll shows!
7. I collect smashed pennies. You know those machines where you put 2 quarters and a penny and then turn the crank and it smashes a design into your penny? Yes, those. I collect them. I keep one in the zip pouch of my Kangaroo sneakers though I rotate which penny it is.
8. I have never done my own taxes, but I will have to do them for the first time ever this year. I am very scared about it.
9. I do NOT get nervous speaking in front of people. I never have. However, I get downright terrified auditioning for plays and talking on the phone.
10. I have led a webinar/teleconference in my underpants. Twice.
11. In high school, I convinced everyone my middle name was Pizzazz. At graduation when they announced my real middle name, most people were confused. I have often considered changing my middle name to Pizzazz ever since. Actually, if I could change my name to anything it would be: Jenny Pizzazz Marvel.
12. Adam asked me if I knew who the Fabulous Moolah was. Embarassingly, I told him, "She's that lady wrestler from the 1970s." I know this because I watched WWF wrestling religiously as a kid.
13. I was the captain of my high school golf team. Oddly, I was also the worst player. My assistant coach (a middle aged lesbian named Dolly with spiky gray hair and an unnatural obsession with Xena, Warrior Princess) almost kicked me off the team and gave me this sound advice (which I didn't take to heart since I had no intention of doing either): "They give more college scholarships for golf than they do for theater!"
14. I took Donovan shopping at K-Mart for black pants once. We bought a pair of black pants in the ladies section.
15. I watched the movie Josie & The Pussycats at least once (sometimes 2 or 3 times) a day my entire sophomore year of college. I can and still quote lines from that movie.
I'm not going to tag anyone. If you want to do it, then do it!
Things I <3 (this week):
1. Music with woah-oh-ohs
2. My music collection from the late 90s/early 2000s (hello Pedro the Lion!)
3. Veronica Mars, girl detective supreme. I'm sad this show was cancelled. Although the third season has gotten a little O.C. for me, its still a smart show.
4. Drooling over 24" iMacs.
5. These fun wallpapers at Nama Rococo. That Sixty-Eight in Mellow Orange! (of course, orange is my obsession these days)
6. Friends visiting. Living in New York City.
7. My bedroom.
8. Apple cider.
9. Nina & Finland
2. My music collection from the late 90s/early 2000s (hello Pedro the Lion!)
3. Veronica Mars, girl detective supreme. I'm sad this show was cancelled. Although the third season has gotten a little O.C. for me, its still a smart show.
4. Drooling over 24" iMacs.
5. These fun wallpapers at Nama Rococo. That Sixty-Eight in Mellow Orange! (of course, orange is my obsession these days)
6. Friends visiting. Living in New York City.
7. My bedroom.
8. Apple cider.
9. Nina & Finland
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Finally, Klosterman!
"Here is what I know about Harry Potter: nothing.
I haven't read any of the books about him, nor have I seen any of the movies. I know the novels were written by a rich middle-aged British woman named J.K Rowling with semi-lush hair, but I have no idea what the letters J and K represent. I don't know the name of the actor who portrays Harry Potter, although I think he has eyeglasses. I don't know the names of any minor characters and I don't know the narrative arc of the plot. I don't know where the stories take place or if they are set in the past or the future. Somebody at a steakhouse recently told me that Harry Potter doesn't die at the conclusion of the seventh book (and that this detail was important), but I wasn't even aware he was sick. I assume there are dragons and griffins and werewolves and homosexual Frankensteins throughout these novels, but I honestly don't give a shit if my assumption is true or false. In fact, if somebody told me that the final Harry Potter novel was a coded interpretation of the Koran that instructed its readers how to read my thoughts, I could only respond by saying, "Well, maybe so." For whatever reason, this is one phenomenon that I have missed completely (and mostly, I suppose, on purpose).
Now, do not take this to mean that I dislike these books. I do not ... in fact, I suspect they're quite good. Moreover, I find it astounding that the unifying cultural currency for modern teenagers are five-hundred page literary works about a wizard. We are all collectively underestimating how unusual this is ... [but] I have no interest in any of it."
-from "Death by Harry Potter," by Chuck Klosterman, Esquire, November 2007
He's right, you know. We're all underestimating how truly unusual it is that 700 page books have unified a global culture.
I haven't read any of the books about him, nor have I seen any of the movies. I know the novels were written by a rich middle-aged British woman named J.K Rowling with semi-lush hair, but I have no idea what the letters J and K represent. I don't know the name of the actor who portrays Harry Potter, although I think he has eyeglasses. I don't know the names of any minor characters and I don't know the narrative arc of the plot. I don't know where the stories take place or if they are set in the past or the future. Somebody at a steakhouse recently told me that Harry Potter doesn't die at the conclusion of the seventh book (and that this detail was important), but I wasn't even aware he was sick. I assume there are dragons and griffins and werewolves and homosexual Frankensteins throughout these novels, but I honestly don't give a shit if my assumption is true or false. In fact, if somebody told me that the final Harry Potter novel was a coded interpretation of the Koran that instructed its readers how to read my thoughts, I could only respond by saying, "Well, maybe so." For whatever reason, this is one phenomenon that I have missed completely (and mostly, I suppose, on purpose).
Now, do not take this to mean that I dislike these books. I do not ... in fact, I suspect they're quite good. Moreover, I find it astounding that the unifying cultural currency for modern teenagers are five-hundred page literary works about a wizard. We are all collectively underestimating how unusual this is ... [but] I have no interest in any of it."
-from "Death by Harry Potter," by Chuck Klosterman, Esquire, November 2007
He's right, you know. We're all underestimating how truly unusual it is that 700 page books have unified a global culture.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Signs I may not be coping so well.
One of my least favorite things about myself is my incomprehensible ability to completely switch from a happy go lucky mood to downright drained and stormy cloud. This is exponentially worse when it happens on Friday afternoons. Friday afternoons are for happy times and planning fun weekends, if I am not mistaken.
I have been listening to the Darjeeling Limited soundtrack all day today. Have you seen this film? I thought it was lovely. Here is my ranking of Wes Anderson films from most loved to not loved as much:
1. Rushmore
2. Royal Tennenbaums
3. Bottle Rocket
4. Darjeeling Limited
5. Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
That makes it seem like I didn't like it, but I did. Although the symbolism was a bit oversimplified, i really enjoyed it.
And finally, here is a picture of the two cats that live in my house:
Napkin, on the left, is wearing her unfinished Halloween costume. Ball, on the right, is being awkward for Halloween (shown here in costume).
I have been listening to the Darjeeling Limited soundtrack all day today. Have you seen this film? I thought it was lovely. Here is my ranking of Wes Anderson films from most loved to not loved as much:
1. Rushmore
2. Royal Tennenbaums
3. Bottle Rocket
4. Darjeeling Limited
5. Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou
That makes it seem like I didn't like it, but I did. Although the symbolism was a bit oversimplified, i really enjoyed it.
And finally, here is a picture of the two cats that live in my house:
Napkin, on the left, is wearing her unfinished Halloween costume. Ball, on the right, is being awkward for Halloween (shown here in costume).
Saturday, October 13, 2007
In the depths of winter, I finally learned there was in me an invincible summer. -Albert Camus
On Radiohead's new album:
Swirling love, treacherous love, knock me on the ground love. Its Radiohead, so its certainly not love in any conventional terms. 'Videotape' is sublimely heart wrenching.
On Napkin, my cat:
After two years and a move to our new home, Napkin has decided that she wants to be a snuggly cat after all. She's always been the cat that chills next to the action, but now she's my best coworker.
Everything else:
I was made for the fall. Also, due to a horrific haircut this week, I will be wearing a hat or headscarf for the next four months. Does anyone have any haircut horror stories? Share them please.
My recommendations for things to do in New York City:
1. Broadway show
2. Dinner at the Rainbow Grill
3. Staten Island Ferry
4. See a rock show at Irving Plaza
5. Hang out in Washington Square Park
6. Empire State Building
7. Greenwood Cemetary in Brooklyn
8. St. John the Divine cathedral
9. UCB Theater
Also this:
Swirling love, treacherous love, knock me on the ground love. Its Radiohead, so its certainly not love in any conventional terms. 'Videotape' is sublimely heart wrenching.
On Napkin, my cat:
After two years and a move to our new home, Napkin has decided that she wants to be a snuggly cat after all. She's always been the cat that chills next to the action, but now she's my best coworker.
Everything else:
I was made for the fall. Also, due to a horrific haircut this week, I will be wearing a hat or headscarf for the next four months. Does anyone have any haircut horror stories? Share them please.
My recommendations for things to do in New York City:
1. Broadway show
2. Dinner at the Rainbow Grill
3. Staten Island Ferry
4. See a rock show at Irving Plaza
5. Hang out in Washington Square Park
6. Empire State Building
7. Greenwood Cemetary in Brooklyn
8. St. John the Divine cathedral
9. UCB Theater
Also this:
Thursday, October 04, 2007
Over.whelmed.
Dear Internet. I'm really sorry for absence lately. The truth is that I am full. Filled with creative endeavors, professional endeavors, professional creative endeavors. You know Internet, without really trying, my days have been filled from the tippy top to the bitty bottom. Something you may not understand, Internet, as an omnipresent entity, is that moving is the pits. Its picking your stuff up and putting it back down again. Its bending and lifting and sweating. But it feels really good in the end. I'm starting to settle and I feel like I found the best apartment in NYC! Right now, I can see kids playing at the park at the school across the street- from my office!
Moving has kickstarted my crafty mind again. I have big plans for the new coffee table. Big, decoupaged plans. Every corner holds new potential. I'm wiping the dust off my sewing machine and getting apartment number three (the penthouse suite) looking spectacular.
I've started thinking about my Halloween costume for this year and I've narrowed it down to two possibilities. It will involved a little crafty work, and I'm excited about costume parties this year. (maybe)
Every minute of every day is allotted for some task, project, idea. Its nice to stay up late and wake up late. And working in your unmentionables sure has its perks. Honestly Internet, I'm really excited by all these projects swirling around, so loaded with potential.
October is bringing many visitors to me here in New York. I'm really excited to share and show New York to my family, my friends. I love New York and I love sharing it with awesome people.
Otherwise, my time is spent passively spreading my smell all over this new apartment. Lighting lilac candles and blowing tiny tendrils of incense through every room to make sure there is no doubt. That apartment number three is pure with our four bodied-12 legged family smell. Yesssssss.
Internet, what is your favorite color? Mine, undoubtedly right now, is ORANGE.
Moving has kickstarted my crafty mind again. I have big plans for the new coffee table. Big, decoupaged plans. Every corner holds new potential. I'm wiping the dust off my sewing machine and getting apartment number three (the penthouse suite) looking spectacular.
I've started thinking about my Halloween costume for this year and I've narrowed it down to two possibilities. It will involved a little crafty work, and I'm excited about costume parties this year. (maybe)
Every minute of every day is allotted for some task, project, idea. Its nice to stay up late and wake up late. And working in your unmentionables sure has its perks. Honestly Internet, I'm really excited by all these projects swirling around, so loaded with potential.
October is bringing many visitors to me here in New York. I'm really excited to share and show New York to my family, my friends. I love New York and I love sharing it with awesome people.
Otherwise, my time is spent passively spreading my smell all over this new apartment. Lighting lilac candles and blowing tiny tendrils of incense through every room to make sure there is no doubt. That apartment number three is pure with our four bodied-12 legged family smell. Yesssssss.
Internet, what is your favorite color? Mine, undoubtedly right now, is ORANGE.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
The abbreviated version.
Life has jumped back into full swing mode lately, but in the best way imagineable.
Abridged:
& Moving! I found a sweet little apartment three blocks north of our current abode. The new place is so great and is owned by this nice lady who speaks Spanish, but will let us paint however we'd like. It also has ceiling fans and a separate office for me, which is better than anything I could have dreamed of when I started this battle. Have you ever been apartment hunting in New York? Its miserable and everything about getting this apartment was incredibly atypical of that process.
I have thoughtfully decided on the colors for my bedroom and the kitchen, but still undecided as to whether to paint the living room right now. My soon to be bedroom is a poop brown color right now, so I'm glad that's going.
& I am currently fighting off feelings of wanting to dress in layers and autumn kissed sweaters. I know everyone says it, but I really love dressing for fall. Truth be told, I love summer and fall and dressing for them.
& I'm going to Ohio in October. That's all.
& I tried acupuncture for the first time last week. It felt prickly and relaxing and tingley.
& I saw Walmart: A Rock Opera* last week. I appreciated (and agreed with) the sentiment and message, but ultimately I think those things may have been lost in a format (musical theater) that traditionally doesn't foster for "the big picture message". Walmart is bad. Walmartopia is silly.
& I saw Rent starring Anthony Rapp and Adam Pascal a while back. They've reprised their roles, and yeah, they are too old to play Mark and Roger, but it was fun and I loved it all the same.
& I have been drinking too much Belgian beer recently.
& I swallowed the septum retainer I have kept hidden for the better part of the last 3-4 years and as a result, have been wearing a septum ring that shows. All my new friends say, "Woah! You got a new piercing!" to which I say, "No....I swallowed the old one. This is almost six years old." Six years with this honkin piece of metal shoved up my nose. I won't stop wearing it or let it close up because it holds special meaning for me. Perhaps someday I'll go into the details of why I chose to modify myself in this way, but six years later and I still haven't shared that story with anyone for quiet, personal reasons. Additionally now, I'm trying to redefine the septum ring from being a confrontational statement to being something even adorable girls can wear. Scarlett Johanssen has a septum ring too, and while she's a picture of pretty, I think its bold that she has a septum ring too.
& Is anyone on Goodreads? Find me! Let's be bookworms together!
*Not actual title of play.
Abridged:
& Moving! I found a sweet little apartment three blocks north of our current abode. The new place is so great and is owned by this nice lady who speaks Spanish, but will let us paint however we'd like. It also has ceiling fans and a separate office for me, which is better than anything I could have dreamed of when I started this battle. Have you ever been apartment hunting in New York? Its miserable and everything about getting this apartment was incredibly atypical of that process.
I have thoughtfully decided on the colors for my bedroom and the kitchen, but still undecided as to whether to paint the living room right now. My soon to be bedroom is a poop brown color right now, so I'm glad that's going.
& I am currently fighting off feelings of wanting to dress in layers and autumn kissed sweaters. I know everyone says it, but I really love dressing for fall. Truth be told, I love summer and fall and dressing for them.
& I'm going to Ohio in October. That's all.
& I tried acupuncture for the first time last week. It felt prickly and relaxing and tingley.
& I saw Walmart: A Rock Opera* last week. I appreciated (and agreed with) the sentiment and message, but ultimately I think those things may have been lost in a format (musical theater) that traditionally doesn't foster for "the big picture message". Walmart is bad. Walmartopia is silly.
& I saw Rent starring Anthony Rapp and Adam Pascal a while back. They've reprised their roles, and yeah, they are too old to play Mark and Roger, but it was fun and I loved it all the same.
& I have been drinking too much Belgian beer recently.
& I swallowed the septum retainer I have kept hidden for the better part of the last 3-4 years and as a result, have been wearing a septum ring that shows. All my new friends say, "Woah! You got a new piercing!" to which I say, "No....I swallowed the old one. This is almost six years old." Six years with this honkin piece of metal shoved up my nose. I won't stop wearing it or let it close up because it holds special meaning for me. Perhaps someday I'll go into the details of why I chose to modify myself in this way, but six years later and I still haven't shared that story with anyone for quiet, personal reasons. Additionally now, I'm trying to redefine the septum ring from being a confrontational statement to being something even adorable girls can wear. Scarlett Johanssen has a septum ring too, and while she's a picture of pretty, I think its bold that she has a septum ring too.
& Is anyone on Goodreads? Find me! Let's be bookworms together!
*Not actual title of play.
Monday, August 20, 2007
For Maura.
And really, isn't this oddly cute:
I don't know who the artist is, so I can't give credit, sadly!
Crisitunity.
Episode: "Fear Of Flying" (12/18/94)
Context: Homer's response when Lisa informs him that the Chinese use "the same word for 'crisis' as they do for 'opportunity.'"
Real-life uses: As an irrationally exuberant response to any impending crummy situation.
And now....a story for you:
On Friday, I was on my way out the door to meet Adam at the movies. We were going to see the Simpsons, appropriately enough, which was hilarious and I would give it eight thumbs up. Alternately, on a scale of dinosaurs, I would rate it a pterodactyl. Before leaving my house, I poured myself and Adam each our own travel mug of Bison Grass vodka with apple juice and a sprinkle of cinnamon.
Now you might be saying to yourself, "Jen, isn't that what alcoholics do- carry their drinks around with them? I've seen this on Lifetime movies and very special episodes of sitcoms before." And to you I say, "Yes, some alcoholics do carry their flasks of alcohol with them. Some people who just like to drink do that." Especially ones who don't drive. And c'mon, they don't sell beer at the movies. And if they did, it would be a beer-like liquid and overpriced.
It was raining Friday, so I had an umbrella in addition to my two travel mugs: my new 75th Anniversary Jacob's Pillow mug and the mug I purchased during the "rest stop" portion of my amazing bus trip to DC a few weeks ago.
Its like this, except mine is plastic and has a lid for traveling (in)conveinence.
I'm holding the umbrella over my head with one hand and have a travel mug in my other hand. But where to put the second travel mug? Well, like all of the ladies here in New York and Hollywood starlets, I have a bag that could fit a unicorn or a dwarf-sized hobo inside. I have a lot of important junk I have to carry around with me: Blackberry, three kinds of lip goo (including the aforementioned American Girl Mango Tango), two pens, one Sharpie (for drunken fun), cigarette case (incidentally which, does not hold cigarettes but my id, Metrocard, and college id in cases of "with valid student ID"), the latest book I'm reading (Them by Francine du Plessix Gray), digital camera, iPod, a recent crumpled fortune I got from Chinese takeout (You will inherit a gold mine in Africa. [What?]), and hand sanitizer, of course. I needed an extra place to put this mug and I take assesment of my bag and think, "I can wedge this mug in the end if I arrange everything right. The lid is secure." And so I follow this plan of action.
And let me tell you: I made it approximately 4 steps before spilling half that mug of vodka all over myself and the entire contents of my bag, including my Blackberry.
Beloved Blackberry, giver of emails, schedules, and internet access, flickered and faded into its death about 10 hours later.
RIP, Blackberry 8700. November 2006 - August 2007.
To confirm that Blackberry was really dead, I went to the AT&T, formerly Cingular store, in Union Square. The helpful man looked at it and said, "Did it get wet?" To which I responded, "Well, I mean, it was raining last night. Actually, it drowned in vodka. [sad, shameful face]" He confirmed there was little hope for rescue, so it was then that I had to consider my options and quickly realized, BUY A NEW PHONE, because I'm not Hermione Granger and I can't conjure cell phones. Furthermore, if I WAS Hermione Granger, I wouldn't need a cell phone, I could just send my Patronus all over the land to send my messages.
Miss Granger, if you're nasty.
Truthfully, I really loved the idea of the Blackberry, but it felt too adult- too business suit- too much guy with shooter fingers.
Put a shirt on!
I took this CRISITUNITY! and realized that if I had to buy a new cell phone, I should go with something that was ME. I wanted less Blackberry, more phone. I wanted less business suit, more I'm creative person. But what phone could possibly fulfill all of my hopes, dreams, and desires without leaving me feeling dirty in the morning?
That's how I ended up with an iPhone. And also how I became Tom Cruise in Minority Report.
Its definitely the touch screen. Or the fact that I call it "my iPod Phone" like my granny would. Or its tiny size. Or its ability to summon unicorns. Or how it says, "I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do," like HAL 9000. Actually, that last part is a little weird, but hey! Its the future and we're all going to start using hoverboards and drive flying cars soon!
Except me. I don't drive. But I'll get my iPhone to drive for me.
Context: Homer's response when Lisa informs him that the Chinese use "the same word for 'crisis' as they do for 'opportunity.'"
Real-life uses: As an irrationally exuberant response to any impending crummy situation.
And now....a story for you:
On Friday, I was on my way out the door to meet Adam at the movies. We were going to see the Simpsons, appropriately enough, which was hilarious and I would give it eight thumbs up. Alternately, on a scale of dinosaurs, I would rate it a pterodactyl. Before leaving my house, I poured myself and Adam each our own travel mug of Bison Grass vodka with apple juice and a sprinkle of cinnamon.
Now you might be saying to yourself, "Jen, isn't that what alcoholics do- carry their drinks around with them? I've seen this on Lifetime movies and very special episodes of sitcoms before." And to you I say, "Yes, some alcoholics do carry their flasks of alcohol with them. Some people who just like to drink do that." Especially ones who don't drive. And c'mon, they don't sell beer at the movies. And if they did, it would be a beer-like liquid and overpriced.
It was raining Friday, so I had an umbrella in addition to my two travel mugs: my new 75th Anniversary Jacob's Pillow mug and the mug I purchased during the "rest stop" portion of my amazing bus trip to DC a few weeks ago.
Its like this, except mine is plastic and has a lid for traveling (in)conveinence.
I'm holding the umbrella over my head with one hand and have a travel mug in my other hand. But where to put the second travel mug? Well, like all of the ladies here in New York and Hollywood starlets, I have a bag that could fit a unicorn or a dwarf-sized hobo inside. I have a lot of important junk I have to carry around with me: Blackberry, three kinds of lip goo (including the aforementioned American Girl Mango Tango), two pens, one Sharpie (for drunken fun), cigarette case (incidentally which, does not hold cigarettes but my id, Metrocard, and college id in cases of "with valid student ID"), the latest book I'm reading (Them by Francine du Plessix Gray), digital camera, iPod, a recent crumpled fortune I got from Chinese takeout (You will inherit a gold mine in Africa. [What?]), and hand sanitizer, of course. I needed an extra place to put this mug and I take assesment of my bag and think, "I can wedge this mug in the end if I arrange everything right. The lid is secure." And so I follow this plan of action.
And let me tell you: I made it approximately 4 steps before spilling half that mug of vodka all over myself and the entire contents of my bag, including my Blackberry.
Beloved Blackberry, giver of emails, schedules, and internet access, flickered and faded into its death about 10 hours later.
RIP, Blackberry 8700. November 2006 - August 2007.
To confirm that Blackberry was really dead, I went to the AT&T, formerly Cingular store, in Union Square. The helpful man looked at it and said, "Did it get wet?" To which I responded, "Well, I mean, it was raining last night. Actually, it drowned in vodka. [sad, shameful face]" He confirmed there was little hope for rescue, so it was then that I had to consider my options and quickly realized, BUY A NEW PHONE, because I'm not Hermione Granger and I can't conjure cell phones. Furthermore, if I WAS Hermione Granger, I wouldn't need a cell phone, I could just send my Patronus all over the land to send my messages.
Miss Granger, if you're nasty.
Truthfully, I really loved the idea of the Blackberry, but it felt too adult- too business suit- too much guy with shooter fingers.
Put a shirt on!
I took this CRISITUNITY! and realized that if I had to buy a new cell phone, I should go with something that was ME. I wanted less Blackberry, more phone. I wanted less business suit, more I'm creative person. But what phone could possibly fulfill all of my hopes, dreams, and desires without leaving me feeling dirty in the morning?
That's how I ended up with an iPhone. And also how I became Tom Cruise in Minority Report.
Its definitely the touch screen. Or the fact that I call it "my iPod Phone" like my granny would. Or its tiny size. Or its ability to summon unicorns. Or how it says, "I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do," like HAL 9000. Actually, that last part is a little weird, but hey! Its the future and we're all going to start using hoverboards and drive flying cars soon!
Except me. I don't drive. But I'll get my iPhone to drive for me.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Real beauty is watching out for friends.
Ahhhhhhh, don't you love fortune cookie wisdom? Except, the title of this post came from the lid of my Mango Tango American Girl $1 lip gloss. Its good enough to eat. Actually, that's all I'm eating these days- I'm on the American Girl Lip Gloss diet.
That's my $1 lip gloss gangsta face.
Presently, the episode of the Simpsons that starts with Tax Day, is on the television. It feels as though I've seen this episode a thousand times more than all the other episodes of the Simpsons. That's really all I have to say about that.
This week, I've been struggling to jump back into regular work-at-home schedule after my two week road trip. Let me also take this opportunity to say Thank you: KateHankMrHickmantheBusDriverMichelleTrevorErinWayneMomDadBethJaneGrannyLindaBillMattBrendaJenMarkScooterBradJAdbouAdrienneJamie and everyone else I encountered along the way. You guys collectively rock my world.
My friend Mark recently interviewed Marketa, the pretty lady from the movie, Once. When I saw this movie it blew me away, so I was amazed to hear that Marketa and Glen Hassard (of The Frames) are/were touring the US recently. Anyways, you can read Mark's interview with Marketa on his blog here.
That's my $1 lip gloss gangsta face.
Presently, the episode of the Simpsons that starts with Tax Day, is on the television. It feels as though I've seen this episode a thousand times more than all the other episodes of the Simpsons. That's really all I have to say about that.
This week, I've been struggling to jump back into regular work-at-home schedule after my two week road trip. Let me also take this opportunity to say Thank you: KateHankMrHickmantheBusDriverMichelleTrevorErinWayneMomDadBethJaneGrannyLindaBillMattBrendaJenMarkScooterBradJAdbouAdrienneJamie and everyone else I encountered along the way. You guys collectively rock my world.
My friend Mark recently interviewed Marketa, the pretty lady from the movie, Once. When I saw this movie it blew me away, so I was amazed to hear that Marketa and Glen Hassard (of The Frames) are/were touring the US recently. Anyways, you can read Mark's interview with Marketa on his blog here.
Friday, August 03, 2007
Its a random road trip.
The orange moon was so close I could have wrapped my arms around it and hugged it until the morning. I'm in the middle of a 2 week journey through so many places:
Washington DC (great weekend! who wants a Nintendo Wii? Jen does!)
Minneapolis, MN (don't worry, I'm okay- I wasn't near the bridge)
Menomonie, WI (work)
Rockford, IL (Friday - Tuesday)
Massachusetts (Tuesday - Sunday)
For now, I'm in northwestern Wisconsin enjoying the sexy wood paneling in my hotel room and the free cable plus movie channels. I've been workingworking crazy workaholic style lately which I love/hate-hate/love and staying up late watching random episodes of Big Love-Top Chef-So You Think You Can Dance-and now that most excellent of movies- AMERICAN PSYCHO. The scene where they compare their business cards is on right now- and hands down- my favorite of the movie. "It even has a watermark." I've been so busy with working that I've slacked off on making plans for this two week adventure- totally my fault. As you already knew, my communication recently has been been poor- at best.
Oh yeah. Christian Bale is giving his Huey Lewis and the News speech- and he's about to chop up Jared Leto. Until later, friends.
Washington DC (great weekend! who wants a Nintendo Wii? Jen does!)
Minneapolis, MN (don't worry, I'm okay- I wasn't near the bridge)
Menomonie, WI (work)
Rockford, IL (Friday - Tuesday)
Massachusetts (Tuesday - Sunday)
For now, I'm in northwestern Wisconsin enjoying the sexy wood paneling in my hotel room and the free cable plus movie channels. I've been workingworking crazy workaholic style lately which I love/hate-hate/love and staying up late watching random episodes of Big Love-Top Chef-So You Think You Can Dance-and now that most excellent of movies- AMERICAN PSYCHO. The scene where they compare their business cards is on right now- and hands down- my favorite of the movie. "It even has a watermark." I've been so busy with working that I've slacked off on making plans for this two week adventure- totally my fault. As you already knew, my communication recently has been been poor- at best.
Oh yeah. Christian Bale is giving his Huey Lewis and the News speech- and he's about to chop up Jared Leto. Until later, friends.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Who likes SPOILERS?
Don't listen to this song if you haven't finished reading Harry Potter or if you hate funny things:
http://www.nyneofuturists.org/podcast/spoiler-alert.mp3
http://www.nyneofuturists.org/podcast/spoiler-alert.mp3
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
OFFICIAL NOTICE
Dear Internet,
I'm avoiding you this week until after I've finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I refuse to let some jerk in internetland spoil the ending for me.
And tell your friends television and newspaper that I'll see them next week too.
Broomsticks and veritiserums,
Ms. Jenny Marvel
I'm avoiding you this week until after I've finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I refuse to let some jerk in internetland spoil the ending for me.
And tell your friends television and newspaper that I'll see them next week too.
Broomsticks and veritiserums,
Ms. Jenny Marvel
Sunday, July 15, 2007
Harry Potter and the Spoiler of Doom!
 | My Harry Potter Spoiler of Doom is: Remus Lupin gets pregnant by Dobby the House Elf in Diagon Alley Get your Harry Potter Spoiler of Doom |
Friday, July 06, 2007
Friday funny!
Also, here's how my Fourth of July went:
Free New Pornographers show, rain, Mexican food, Killer Flaming Dr. Peppers, blueberry vodka made up holiday drinks, pushing strangers, karaoke, Snape IS the half blood prince (right!), and then being too intoxicated to remember any of it.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
All those times I did all those things, remember? Purely a photo post.
Minor league baseball mascots LOVE me. No idea why. Its not my baseball knowledge...
The Statue of Liberty gives me the creeps. She's all green and moldy looking. And from France.
That's Datarock. They're from Norway. They give out shots of wildly strong coffee.
Hey Lily Allen. Thanks for not cancelling your NYC show. I think you're adorable, as always. Love, Jen
Oh hey, remember that time we went to the formerly Polish nightclub and THIS girl dressed in- whatever that is smeared in fake blood danced on stage to the techno music ? Yeah, that was kinda weird.
Stuff on *my* cat.
And the blurry version.
Aaaaaaaaand, this is how my cat sleeps. Don't you love how her little back legs look like turkey legs? Actually, the whole thing makes me feel a bit dodgy.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Enter exhaustion.
After deciding that it would be amazing to put on the special skills section of my resume "Non-sloppy, efficient vomiting drunk" I puked the most amazing raspberry sorbet colored vomit onto the ground of my subway platform as I stumbled home greeting the sunrise at 5.30 this morning.
I spent yesterday afternoon at the Renegrade Craft Fair at the McCarren Pool. It was not my midwestern mum's potpourri and teddy bear craft fair, that's certain. I walked away with a beautiful hand sewn leather business card organizer and a lamp made from drink umbrellas! All the craftiness at the fair yesterday inspired me to finally decorate and organize my room today. Its been a battle, but I am slowly creating the atmosphere I want my bedroom and office to have. My room is beginning to glow with green and blues and oranges (the basic color scheme). That means I shan't be embarrassed when you come to visit and my walls are bare!
See how I threw in that part about you visiting? Clever. But seriously. Come visit!
I spent yesterday afternoon at the Renegrade Craft Fair at the McCarren Pool. It was not my midwestern mum's potpourri and teddy bear craft fair, that's certain. I walked away with a beautiful hand sewn leather business card organizer and a lamp made from drink umbrellas! All the craftiness at the fair yesterday inspired me to finally decorate and organize my room today. Its been a battle, but I am slowly creating the atmosphere I want my bedroom and office to have. My room is beginning to glow with green and blues and oranges (the basic color scheme). That means I shan't be embarrassed when you come to visit and my walls are bare!
See how I threw in that part about you visiting? Clever. But seriously. Come visit!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
You guys, I'm so sorry this has become the YouTube remixed blog.
Or I'm really not sorry at all. Watch and laugh.
Also, hysterical:
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Super Size You.
Yesterday I was at my bank (the Washington Mutual in Windsor Terrace/Park Slope/South Slope (whatever its proper classification is) or alternately: WaMoo), and as I was leaving, I saw this guy:
Okay, so no big deal. He's that guy who ate McDonald's for a month and got all chunky and unhealthy to prove his point and then told everyone how he was never eating fast food again. Remember that? Yes, truly powerful and moving in our society of fatties and skinny coked out starlets in rehab.
Except when I saw him yesterday, he was shoving a giant ice cream cone in his mouth. So much for that "not eating fast food anymore" tomfoolery. Its okay, Morgan Spurlock, we all struggle to stick to our healthy diets. Some of us just don't document it on internationally released documentaries.
Okay, so no big deal. He's that guy who ate McDonald's for a month and got all chunky and unhealthy to prove his point and then told everyone how he was never eating fast food again. Remember that? Yes, truly powerful and moving in our society of fatties and skinny coked out starlets in rehab.
Except when I saw him yesterday, he was shoving a giant ice cream cone in his mouth. So much for that "not eating fast food anymore" tomfoolery. Its okay, Morgan Spurlock, we all struggle to stick to our healthy diets. Some of us just don't document it on internationally released documentaries.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Share your XANADU.
I am inexplicably excited for the new Broadway musical, Xanadu, based on the cult 1980s film. The musical's website is sponsoring a Win 2 Free Tickets to Xanadu and share your Xanadu with us contest. So there's all these crazy links to YouTube videos. And now I will share two of my favorite with you:
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
All in all is all we are.
& Do you listen to NPR's All Songs Considered podcast? You really, really, really, really should. This week they posted Ben Gibbard's (of Death Cab for Cutie, The Postal Service, American Analog Set, and All Time Quarterback) live show. I broke it up into mp3s and its the only thing I have listened to for two days in a row. (Email me if you'd like a copy of it.) His piano cover of "All Apologies" by Nirvana and his rendition of Donovan's Sing for You are lovely. Simply lovely.
& I love Donovan in an inexplicable way. Maybe it was the time I took him shopping for black pants in the ladies section of K-Mart in Great Barrington and he kissed me on the cheek after and said, "Thanks love." That was a spectacular moment in my life.
& The movie Paris Je T'aime. A love story for the city for lovers.
& I'm considering starting a blog over at Tumblr, so I can just post things I am in hearts with right now (videos and musics and things.) Please discuss.
& Summer music festivals.
& Street fairs.
& This guy's art.
& The movie Paris Je T'aime. A love story for the city for lovers.
& I'm considering starting a blog over at Tumblr, so I can just post things I am in hearts with right now (videos and musics and things.) Please discuss.
& Summer music festivals.
& Street fairs.
& This guy's art.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Words + visual aids.
% Bjork's new album, Volta 
% Home made iced coffee + water with lemon and cucumbers + popcicles
% Photos from France
% Summer, summer, I am here to win you over.
% Paying someone else to do my laundry
% Smoosh opening for The Pipettes on June 5th!
% Dresses and dressing up
% Not traveling for three weeks (alternately: staying in New York for three weeks in a row!)
% Home made iced coffee + water with lemon and cucumbers + popcicles
% Photos from France
% Summer, summer, I am here to win you over.
% Paying someone else to do my laundry
% GHOSTLAND OBSERVATORY IS PLAYING A FREE SHOW AT MCCARREN POOL THIS SUMMER.
% Watching reruns of old Scripps National Spelling Bees on ESPN2 (Samir! You're my boy!)
% International dance parties (alternately: How I became the United Nations of International Dance Party Friends)
% Smoosh opening for The Pipettes on June 5th!
% Dresses and dressing up
% Not traveling for three weeks (alternately: staying in New York for three weeks in a row!)
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
French wine, cigarettes, baguettes, French wine, fondue, French wine, French wine, French wine, croissants, and French wine.
Bon jour!
I returned from France yesterday and I've barely had a moment to catch my breath, but I wanted to tell you how I am still alive (although the climb to the top of Notre Dame almost killed me!) and that I have photos coming soon.
Lately in my life:
Red wine, white wine, cheap wine. Baguettes. Croissants. Chocolate filled croissants. Three am drunk food (chocolate filled croissants slathered in Nutella). Big hills. Cigarettes. Tap dancing. International dance parties. Sleepy afternoons. No sleep. Wine. Wine in baby bottles. Fondue. Marriage proposals from Frenchmen. Photos. Walking. Wine. Cigarettes. Baguettes. Wine. Wine. Wine.
I also squeezed in a trip to Lyon to visit with the incomprable Mike van sleen, who sends well wishes and hellos to all of you in Pillowland.
I had the most spectacular holiday, which I will endlessly discuss with you soon.Right now, I have to get ready for the arrival of one, Mark Schwaber, who is here with the band, Spouse, to perform in Brooklyn and also at Sirius Radio and Air America this week.
Three stories of interest currently. Discuss.
First transgendered prom queen?
Jerry Falwell dies possibly from shock of the aforementioned transgendered prom queen.
Two kids broke into the Smashing Pumpkins rehearsal space. I know one of those kids. And you know what? If you commit a crime, you should go to jail, no matter how much of a jerkbag Billy Corgan is.
I returned from France yesterday and I've barely had a moment to catch my breath, but I wanted to tell you how I am still alive (although the climb to the top of Notre Dame almost killed me!) and that I have photos coming soon.
Lately in my life:
Red wine, white wine, cheap wine. Baguettes. Croissants. Chocolate filled croissants. Three am drunk food (chocolate filled croissants slathered in Nutella). Big hills. Cigarettes. Tap dancing. International dance parties. Sleepy afternoons. No sleep. Wine. Wine in baby bottles. Fondue. Marriage proposals from Frenchmen. Photos. Walking. Wine. Cigarettes. Baguettes. Wine. Wine. Wine.
I also squeezed in a trip to Lyon to visit with the incomprable Mike van sleen, who sends well wishes and hellos to all of you in Pillowland.
I had the most spectacular holiday, which I will endlessly discuss with you soon.
Three stories of interest currently. Discuss.
First transgendered prom queen?
Jerry Falwell dies possibly from shock of the aforementioned transgendered prom queen.
Two kids broke into the Smashing Pumpkins rehearsal space. I know one of those kids. And you know what? If you commit a crime, you should go to jail, no matter how much of a jerkbag Billy Corgan is.
Monday, May 07, 2007
And when I see you, I really see you upside down.
After constant motion for the past several weeks, I'm taking this moment in my life to reflect before this brief pause resumes at a whirring by me speed.
My heart has been pulled in several directions lately- family so far away, friends so spread out. My week in Illinois was brilliant and insanely busy- seeing so many people I love and admire all in the span of such a short time. When I left, I felt good about the time I spent with my friends, but still left feeling like I didn't soak it all in enough.
And so I keep moving. Motion. In the past year, I've lived in three states. Three states, a thousand states of mind, a significant year of change. I don't think of this as a quarterlife crisis any more. Because its so much better than that, my life is not in crisis mode.
I'm leaving for Paris in two days. My life perspective slightly altered from my last visit, and I am so excited to travel. After that, I look forward to falling in love with my own city for awhile.
Friends, I leave you with this little excerpt from Henry Rollins:
"Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds. So sad that we will never touch. How it hurts me to know that I will never be able to give you everything I have."
-Solipsist, Henry Rollins
My heart has been pulled in several directions lately- family so far away, friends so spread out. My week in Illinois was brilliant and insanely busy- seeing so many people I love and admire all in the span of such a short time. When I left, I felt good about the time I spent with my friends, but still left feeling like I didn't soak it all in enough.
And so I keep moving. Motion. In the past year, I've lived in three states. Three states, a thousand states of mind, a significant year of change. I don't think of this as a quarterlife crisis any more. Because its so much better than that, my life is not in crisis mode.
I'm leaving for Paris in two days. My life perspective slightly altered from my last visit, and I am so excited to travel. After that, I look forward to falling in love with my own city for awhile.
Friends, I leave you with this little excerpt from Henry Rollins:
"Somewhere someone is thinking of you. Someone is calling you an angel. This person is using celestial colors to paint your image. Someone is making you into a vision so beautiful that it can only live in the mind. Someone is thinking of the way your breath escapes your lips when you are touched. How your eyes close and your jaw tightens with concentration as you give pleasure a home. These thoughts are saving a life somewhere right now. In some airless apartment on a dark, urine stained, whore lined street, someone is calling out to you silently and you are answering without even being there. So crystalline. So pure. Such life saving power when you smile. You will never know how you have cauterized my wounds. So sad that we will never touch. How it hurts me to know that I will never be able to give you everything I have."
-Solipsist, Henry Rollins
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
C'mon, Feel the Illinoise!
Hey friendlies. I'm here in Illinois. I've been running on "if I stop moving I'll die" mode since moving to New York and being in Illinois hasn't slowed that down ONE TINY BIT. But I love it. I feel good all over- orrrrr that's the 8.5% beers talking.
I can't offer much more than that in words at the moment. But here is a picture of my cat and I gloriously reunited and LOVING IT:
This is exactly how my work days go. LOVE.
I can't offer much more than that in words at the moment. But here is a picture of my cat and I gloriously reunited and LOVING IT:
This is exactly how my work days go. LOVE.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
La Dolce Vita.
So, let's get right to it. In bullet points, for your reading conveinence and because that's quicker and I'm not feeling particularly literary at this juncture:
*On Saturday, I moved to New York. The city. And despite rain and generally crappy weather, Hi, I love it here.
*I work from home now. And while you might be inclined to think that working from home means watching soap operas and mid-afternoon lawyer shows, it does not. It does mean I can wear my jammies to work (I have not yet) and that I get to have 1 of 2 cats sitting on my lap as I work. Whereas before, putting on clothes and driving to an office meant getting into work mode, now its a mental process. Sadly, I'm even busier now working from home than when I was working in an office. It doesn't make sense, but that's how it works.
*I saw Smoosh last night. They are 2 sisters who are very small and both under the age of 15. And they rock. And I hope you check them out.
*I'm going to be in Illinois next week. And that means two homecomings in as many weeks. And I find that slightly overwhelming. But I generally find the next 1-2 months overwhelming in terms of scheduling. But you know me, and you know that in an eery way, I *like* being this insanely busy.
Okay my darlings, that's all I have for today.
*On Saturday, I moved to New York. The city. And despite rain and generally crappy weather, Hi, I love it here.
*I work from home now. And while you might be inclined to think that working from home means watching soap operas and mid-afternoon lawyer shows, it does not. It does mean I can wear my jammies to work (I have not yet) and that I get to have 1 of 2 cats sitting on my lap as I work. Whereas before, putting on clothes and driving to an office meant getting into work mode, now its a mental process. Sadly, I'm even busier now working from home than when I was working in an office. It doesn't make sense, but that's how it works.
*I saw Smoosh last night. They are 2 sisters who are very small and both under the age of 15. And they rock. And I hope you check them out.
*I'm going to be in Illinois next week. And that means two homecomings in as many weeks. And I find that slightly overwhelming. But I generally find the next 1-2 months overwhelming in terms of scheduling. But you know me, and you know that in an eery way, I *like* being this insanely busy.
Okay my darlings, that's all I have for today.
Superficial subversion.
"Are you excited to move to New York?" I have recently come to dread this question as much as "So, what do you want to study?" (see: High School Graduation). Not because I'm NOT excited. Oh yes, I've been waiting almost two years for this moment. I'm just too tired to show you my overflowing excitement. Trust me. I am the most excited person you know.
I've had a bout of the wide-awakes at 3 am recently which is really fine. Seriously! I love working at 3am because I'm wide awake. I need to find a way to empty my brain before bedtime. Like in Harry Potter- I need a pensieve to extract the thoughts, the forever To Do lists, the workplans-movingplans-lifeplans.
Today, all of it- the exhaustion and the stress manifested physically in my body; just in the crook of my neck.
I was explaining Pilates to a few coworkers today and my reasons for why I cannot take Pilates ever again. The 70-year-old ladies farting was just too much.
This morning I listened to the All Songs Considered podcast featuring music producer Joe Boyd, who is responsible for musicians like Nick Drake and probably a whole iPod worth of music you've heard before. The man is simply profound in his spot-on analysis of music then and music now without being condemning to either era (the 1960s vs. present music culture). He has a new book out now and I am looking forward to picking it up soon.
He read the final paragraph from the book, which ends on a rather doom-and-gloom note, but what stuck with me the most was his assessment that the music industry has created music which is superfically subversive (hence, the title of my post). And with those words came a flood of clarity. Superficially subversive. It makes me really question what, if any "mainstream" art is truly subversive? Are we as people capable of being genuinely subversive or provoking? I have my doubts because its subversive to make witty commentary about hipster chic, which is being mass produced in a...you guessed it, superficially subversive way.
"But do you believe in something beautiful? Get up and be it." -Ted Leo
You may not like his music, but he's one of the most intelligent, thoughtful artists out in the world right now. I would highly recommend his interview in The Onion's AV Club from a few weeks ago.
I've had a bout of the wide-awakes at 3 am recently which is really fine. Seriously! I love working at 3am because I'm wide awake. I need to find a way to empty my brain before bedtime. Like in Harry Potter- I need a pensieve to extract the thoughts, the forever To Do lists, the workplans-movingplans-lifeplans.
Today, all of it- the exhaustion and the stress manifested physically in my body; just in the crook of my neck.
I was explaining Pilates to a few coworkers today and my reasons for why I cannot take Pilates ever again. The 70-year-old ladies farting was just too much.
This morning I listened to the All Songs Considered podcast featuring music producer Joe Boyd, who is responsible for musicians like Nick Drake and probably a whole iPod worth of music you've heard before. The man is simply profound in his spot-on analysis of music then and music now without being condemning to either era (the 1960s vs. present music culture). He has a new book out now and I am looking forward to picking it up soon.
He read the final paragraph from the book, which ends on a rather doom-and-gloom note, but what stuck with me the most was his assessment that the music industry has created music which is superfically subversive (hence, the title of my post). And with those words came a flood of clarity. Superficially subversive. It makes me really question what, if any "mainstream" art is truly subversive? Are we as people capable of being genuinely subversive or provoking? I have my doubts because its subversive to make witty commentary about hipster chic, which is being mass produced in a...you guessed it, superficially subversive way.
"But do you believe in something beautiful? Get up and be it." -Ted Leo
You may not like his music, but he's one of the most intelligent, thoughtful artists out in the world right now. I would highly recommend his interview in The Onion's AV Club from a few weeks ago.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Lily Allen + Me =s True Love.
Lily Allen calls George W Bush an “a**hole” and claims she is “probably bisexual”
A drunk Lily Allen ,probably lost it on stage last week.
British singer Lily Allen has launched an astonishing drunken rant during a concert in San Diego, California, calling George W Bush an “a**ehole” and claiming she is “probably bisexual”.
The 21-year-old turned angry after guzzling beer and cider onstage during her performance at the city’s House of Blues last week (30Mar07).
She said, “George Bush is an assehole and a cunt” before also directing her vitriol at Tony Blair.
Allen then claimed she was bisexual because she was sick of men with “tiny dicks”, reports British newspaper The Sun.
A concert-goer tells the newspaper, “Lily got really drunk on stage."
“She then started calling Bush names and the audience went a bit quiet. She also said that San Diego has the best crack whores she has ever seen and that she was thinking of becoming a lesbian.”
The singer has hinted she is considering quitting her US tour - an attempt to crack the lucrative Stateside market - because she’s bored. She writes on her MySpace page, “Is it really important to break America? I’m bored.”
Source
A drunk Lily Allen ,probably lost it on stage last week.
British singer Lily Allen has launched an astonishing drunken rant during a concert in San Diego, California, calling George W Bush an “a**ehole” and claiming she is “probably bisexual”.
The 21-year-old turned angry after guzzling beer and cider onstage during her performance at the city’s House of Blues last week (30Mar07).
She said, “George Bush is an assehole and a cunt” before also directing her vitriol at Tony Blair.
Allen then claimed she was bisexual because she was sick of men with “tiny dicks”, reports British newspaper The Sun.
A concert-goer tells the newspaper, “Lily got really drunk on stage."
“She then started calling Bush names and the audience went a bit quiet. She also said that San Diego has the best crack whores she has ever seen and that she was thinking of becoming a lesbian.”
The singer has hinted she is considering quitting her US tour - an attempt to crack the lucrative Stateside market - because she’s bored. She writes on her MySpace page, “Is it really important to break America? I’m bored.”
Source
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Yes, I love technology.
At work today, I could barely hide my excitement for my new favorite feature Google has (no, not the themes, but those are good too) is Google Calendars. I love that I can keep my schedule in a variety of colors and I made all my coworkers share it with me. Upon my jumping about with the beautiful color coded calendar in my hands, our artist-in-residence and receptionist extraordinaire laughs at me and says,
"Who are you? Seriously, Jen, are you really 25? Because what are you going to be like when you're 40?"
And then we both fell over in giggle fits. Because its true. And I had this flashback to being a kid and I was sitting in the hospital waiting room making imaginary schedules and bar graphs. Its completely true, I've always been like this (and by "this" I mean, weirdly paradoxical in my organizational skills). My room may be a mess, but my life is color coded and organized, people.
"Who are you? Seriously, Jen, are you really 25? Because what are you going to be like when you're 40?"
And then we both fell over in giggle fits. Because its true. And I had this flashback to being a kid and I was sitting in the hospital waiting room making imaginary schedules and bar graphs. Its completely true, I've always been like this (and by "this" I mean, weirdly paradoxical in my organizational skills). My room may be a mess, but my life is color coded and organized, people.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Secret confessions of the tiny morsels of a joyful life.
It is entirely possible that the sunshine and warm weather and running my toes through the itchy grass on my one hour escapes from work gulping back green tea alternating with Diet Coke has caused me to listen to pop music and female vocalists almost exclusively lately:
+Rudebox by Robbie Williams
I have love for Robbie Williams because he's defiant and rebelious and that Gallagher fellow from Oasis called him the fat dancing guy in the British boy and. So not true. And those Gallagher brothers are complete morons.
+Traffic and Weather by Fountains of Wayne
This band always comes full forced with the great lyrics (although, to be fair, I thought Stacy's Mom had kind of weak lyrics, but still catchy as hell and an awesome homage to the Cars), and their new album is poppy and the sounds are lush and I just like them, ok?
+The Pipettes by The Pipettes
I dig these girls- I'm also going through a big female vocalist phase right now and I can't get enough of the hand claps and the 1960s girl group revival.
+The Bird & The Bee by The Bird & The Bee
Something about the synths and the pretty lady's sweet smooth singing evokes Ella Fitzgerald singing Desafinado. That kind of statement sounds mighty crass, but I am all about it this duo from Sweden, or wherever it is that synthy-pop duos are born.
+Mes Amours by Edith Piaf
This woman sounds like she led a wild life and I would have given anything to have seen her perform live in the 1950s. This is generally the album I start my morning with at work, its gentle but vibrant.
+Sound of Silver by LCD Soundsystem
LCD Soundsystem makes me want to have a dance party in my living room (or perhaps more appropriately, my kitchen which has more open space for dancing although the last time I was dancing in the kitchen, I broke my wrist in the 3rd grade- simply the mere beginnings of my clutzy nature). How you feel about Sound of Silver probably depends on how you feel about LCD Soundsystem. I feel extra crispy good about LCD Soundsystem so I am ALL ABOUT Sound of Silver.
In other news:
My days consist of working so hard my brain gives out on on my body by about 3pm most days, then coming home to make dinner and pack another box full of clothes or other junk I toted all the way to this state. My time to get myself together and Back to NY! is getting down to the wire as every day passes- most of next week is really out of the question since I'll be out of town then hosting my mum for Easter weekend. Per usual, I'm staying calm like its nothing and will probably be shoving things into beaten up boxes like its no big deal April 13th.
I think from now I'll just ruffle baby powder in my hair instead of washing it. George Washington wig style, everybody!
And now it is warm enough that I can stop at the coffee shop on the way to work each morning and order "one large, Iced Coffee please with room for cream," but they know that about me now. Instead of speaking of coffee, the girl who wears cute hats and I talk about the music they play- the other morning it was "the new Shins, don't you think its great?" and the morning before that....well, I don't remember. But I remember liking it even at such atrocious hours as 7:45 am. Maybe I will make them a CD, those friendly faces at the coffeeshop, although, maybe they'd find that presumptious. Or maybe I'll start giving one copy of my weekly mixes to one random person every week. Just to spread musical joy in the world. Yes, I feel a project forming.
There's a lot going on in my world right now, come share it with me.
+Rudebox by Robbie Williams
I have love for Robbie Williams because he's defiant and rebelious and that Gallagher fellow from Oasis called him the fat dancing guy in the British boy and. So not true. And those Gallagher brothers are complete morons.
+Traffic and Weather by Fountains of Wayne
This band always comes full forced with the great lyrics (although, to be fair, I thought Stacy's Mom had kind of weak lyrics, but still catchy as hell and an awesome homage to the Cars), and their new album is poppy and the sounds are lush and I just like them, ok?
+The Pipettes by The Pipettes
I dig these girls- I'm also going through a big female vocalist phase right now and I can't get enough of the hand claps and the 1960s girl group revival.
+The Bird & The Bee by The Bird & The Bee
Something about the synths and the pretty lady's sweet smooth singing evokes Ella Fitzgerald singing Desafinado. That kind of statement sounds mighty crass, but I am all about it this duo from Sweden, or wherever it is that synthy-pop duos are born.
+Mes Amours by Edith Piaf
This woman sounds like she led a wild life and I would have given anything to have seen her perform live in the 1950s. This is generally the album I start my morning with at work, its gentle but vibrant.
+Sound of Silver by LCD Soundsystem
LCD Soundsystem makes me want to have a dance party in my living room (or perhaps more appropriately, my kitchen which has more open space for dancing although the last time I was dancing in the kitchen, I broke my wrist in the 3rd grade- simply the mere beginnings of my clutzy nature). How you feel about Sound of Silver probably depends on how you feel about LCD Soundsystem. I feel extra crispy good about LCD Soundsystem so I am ALL ABOUT Sound of Silver.
In other news:
My days consist of working so hard my brain gives out on on my body by about 3pm most days, then coming home to make dinner and pack another box full of clothes or other junk I toted all the way to this state. My time to get myself together and Back to NY! is getting down to the wire as every day passes- most of next week is really out of the question since I'll be out of town then hosting my mum for Easter weekend. Per usual, I'm staying calm like its nothing and will probably be shoving things into beaten up boxes like its no big deal April 13th.
I think from now I'll just ruffle baby powder in my hair instead of washing it. George Washington wig style, everybody!
And now it is warm enough that I can stop at the coffee shop on the way to work each morning and order "one large, Iced Coffee please with room for cream," but they know that about me now. Instead of speaking of coffee, the girl who wears cute hats and I talk about the music they play- the other morning it was "the new Shins, don't you think its great?" and the morning before that....well, I don't remember. But I remember liking it even at such atrocious hours as 7:45 am. Maybe I will make them a CD, those friendly faces at the coffeeshop, although, maybe they'd find that presumptious. Or maybe I'll start giving one copy of my weekly mixes to one random person every week. Just to spread musical joy in the world. Yes, I feel a project forming.
There's a lot going on in my world right now, come share it with me.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
I AM FILLED WITH HEINOUS LIES.
Okay, so I am clearly a liar about the momentary hiatus.
Let's try a round of funny things people Googled to arrive here:
upshot photos of pussy
I am so incredibly sorry to have disappointed you.
ginny quit living on dreams
But dreams are all we have!
how to cross a river infested with piranhas
Carefully.
marry-a-greek
I-don't-think-hyphenating-words-is-going-to-convince-a-Greek-or-anyone-to-marry-you.
obnoxious foofy hair
See also: my cat.
honey bunches of oats review
My opinion: as long as you don't use them for bacon tang bars and Honey Bunches of Oats are delicious.
skittles bunny
I love that commercial too! Yoooooyoyoyoyoooooooo!
yummy yum yum
Are we still talking about the skittles bunny?
then i'll be the sky
Okay, I'm keeping my feet on the ground.
jenn l day
For me, that's every day!
Let's try a round of funny things people Googled to arrive here:
upshot photos of pussy
I am so incredibly sorry to have disappointed you.
ginny quit living on dreams
But dreams are all we have!
how to cross a river infested with piranhas
Carefully.
marry-a-greek
I-don't-think-hyphenating-words-is-going-to-convince-a-Greek-or-anyone-to-marry-you.
obnoxious foofy hair
See also: my cat.
honey bunches of oats review
My opinion: as long as you don't use them for bacon tang bars and Honey Bunches of Oats are delicious.
skittles bunny
I love that commercial too! Yoooooyoyoyoyoooooooo!
yummy yum yum
Are we still talking about the skittles bunny?
then i'll be the sky
Okay, I'm keeping my feet on the ground.
jenn l day
For me, that's every day!
it was a passing fad...a private project that became quite public.
this place has been dying a pretty slow death for going on six months now. i find the chronicle of life in such a public manner fascinating and yet, completely intimidating at this juncture. there's too much going on in my world to attempt communicativeness about all of it. and at the same time, i know so many far away friends count on this to be the insight into the happenings in my life. i'm stuck right now, this place has become pretty sterile of thoughtful and funny commentary reflective of me.
as a person who writes daily, it has become increasingly difficult to come home and put more words to the screen. there have been days, months in my life where i had to write to keep from completely losing it. frantic scribbles across any scraps of paper i could find. and to a certain extent, i can still recreate the stimuli for creative bursts of inspired writing, but really when it becomes that formulaic, it also becomes pretty exhausted.
i'm not promising anything, i'm not not promising anything.
truthfully, i don't like not knowing who is out there in internet-land reading this and on the other hand, putting an IP tracker was one of the worst moves i could have made because i know who reads my words and it has changed the parts of my life i am willing to share here. more than anyone, i realize how incredibly lame that sounds, but also. i'm really happy with anonymity. i'm glad my friends come here, its all the non-friends that stop by that i'm not very comfortable with anymore. you're all saying, "jen when have you ever cared about what people think of you?" and you'd be correct. until i can get back to an un-self-censored place, this feels pretty empty as an exercise in writing.
my writing isn't what it used to be and furthermore, i don't have the time or energy these days. i'd rather focus what little energy i have left at the end of the day to write a personal email, make a phone call, write a postcard.
i'm not gone forever, but let's just call it a (momentary) hiatus, ok? i'm in need of reinvention, recentering.
xoxo,
jenny
as a person who writes daily, it has become increasingly difficult to come home and put more words to the screen. there have been days, months in my life where i had to write to keep from completely losing it. frantic scribbles across any scraps of paper i could find. and to a certain extent, i can still recreate the stimuli for creative bursts of inspired writing, but really when it becomes that formulaic, it also becomes pretty exhausted.
i'm not promising anything, i'm not not promising anything.
truthfully, i don't like not knowing who is out there in internet-land reading this and on the other hand, putting an IP tracker was one of the worst moves i could have made because i know who reads my words and it has changed the parts of my life i am willing to share here. more than anyone, i realize how incredibly lame that sounds, but also. i'm really happy with anonymity. i'm glad my friends come here, its all the non-friends that stop by that i'm not very comfortable with anymore. you're all saying, "jen when have you ever cared about what people think of you?" and you'd be correct. until i can get back to an un-self-censored place, this feels pretty empty as an exercise in writing.
my writing isn't what it used to be and furthermore, i don't have the time or energy these days. i'd rather focus what little energy i have left at the end of the day to write a personal email, make a phone call, write a postcard.
i'm not gone forever, but let's just call it a (momentary) hiatus, ok? i'm in need of reinvention, recentering.
xoxo,
jenny
Monday, March 19, 2007
Touch, taste, smell, hear.
Everything is really crazy right now. I'm leading/teaching classes at work- teaching is not so easy. Appreciate the teachers in your life! I mean it.
Other than that, I'm handing my car to its new owner tomorrow. I briefly considered taking a cruise around in it one last time tonight, but then I remembered- its just a car. Really. A car is just a thing, a mode of transportation. But we had some fun times in that car. Driving to concerts, to far off cities. That car has been from Illinois to Massachusetts seven times! That's a lot of road tripping, my friends. So my dear little Toyota Corolla, thanks for all the goods times...
So all this moving business is coming along really smoothly so far. Car sold, check. Switched banks, check. One way ticket to LaGuardia Airport, check. (That was the weirdest part yet, was buying a one way ticket. That made it feel real.) Packing up boxes to ship...well, I'm working on that one.
Also, let me just get this out of the way and say, Wisconsin lost. I know. I'm eating my words right now. But, I watched every second with agony. Now I'm rooting for the Salukis (I probably shouldn't cause now they'll probably lose. Oh well.)
Other than that, I'm handing my car to its new owner tomorrow. I briefly considered taking a cruise around in it one last time tonight, but then I remembered- its just a car. Really. A car is just a thing, a mode of transportation. But we had some fun times in that car. Driving to concerts, to far off cities. That car has been from Illinois to Massachusetts seven times! That's a lot of road tripping, my friends. So my dear little Toyota Corolla, thanks for all the goods times...
So all this moving business is coming along really smoothly so far. Car sold, check. Switched banks, check. One way ticket to LaGuardia Airport, check. (That was the weirdest part yet, was buying a one way ticket. That made it feel real.) Packing up boxes to ship...well, I'm working on that one.
Also, let me just get this out of the way and say, Wisconsin lost. I know. I'm eating my words right now. But, I watched every second with agony. Now I'm rooting for the Salukis (I probably shouldn't cause now they'll probably lose. Oh well.)
Friday, March 16, 2007
News, Breaking news!, Boring news, Sports News. Also, Huey Lewis & the News.
I finished writing a 350 page book. Soon it will be a real book with an ISBN like the Library of Congress uses. And as Jeffrey so kindly pointed out, I will now be able to use this tidbit of dad humour with the utmost conviction:
"I wrote the manual on that."
AH. This could be the best part of the whole experience.
AND NOW, I give you the timeline for my life in the next 2 - 3 months (abridged):
April 2 - 4th. Seattle, Washington.
April 14th. Move to Brooklyn, New York.
April 21 - 29th(ish). In the Northern Illinois region.
May 9th - 13th. Traipsing about Paris (France, not Texas).
TBA: Tokyo, Japan (probably the fall) and Memphis, TN.
I feel confident in announcing my whereabouts after weeks of speculation and trying to keep my big mouth shut until it was finalized. And now it is. And now you know where to find me and when. Yes, I'm moving to New York (finally).
I thought Esperanto was the universal language.
No matter what anyone tells you, if you have Photoshop installed on your Intel based Mac, DO NOT DELETE LANGUAGE FILES. Even if its ridiculous that Photoshop needs Klingon and Esperanto installed to run properly (and it is ridiculous). Furthermore, its not going to save you much space. And when you have to go to Mac's Genius Bar and eat your humble pie and tell them that you were stupid and want to repent for your stupid mistake, they won't laugh at you because that's poor customer service. Anyways, don't do that because it almost gave me a panic attack.
ALSO:
HOORAY FOR BASKETBALL! Just so you know, I think Wisconsin could win the Final Four. Any dissenting opinions can suck it because BUCKY BADGER WILL EAT YOUR FACE FOR BREAKFAST AND THEN DO COCK PUSHUPS ALL OVER YOUR EATEN OFF FACE.
Its hip to be square.
For your viewing pleasure, I present: Christian Bale (hotty), Jared Leto (post-hot Jordan Catalano, pre-fat goth), and my favorite scene from American Psycho:
Hearts and flowers,
xoxo.
-j
"I wrote the manual on that."
AH. This could be the best part of the whole experience.
AND NOW, I give you the timeline for my life in the next 2 - 3 months (abridged):
April 2 - 4th. Seattle, Washington.
April 14th. Move to Brooklyn, New York.
April 21 - 29th(ish). In the Northern Illinois region.
May 9th - 13th. Traipsing about Paris (France, not Texas).
TBA: Tokyo, Japan (probably the fall) and Memphis, TN.
I feel confident in announcing my whereabouts after weeks of speculation and trying to keep my big mouth shut until it was finalized. And now it is. And now you know where to find me and when. Yes, I'm moving to New York (finally).
I thought Esperanto was the universal language.
No matter what anyone tells you, if you have Photoshop installed on your Intel based Mac, DO NOT DELETE LANGUAGE FILES. Even if its ridiculous that Photoshop needs Klingon and Esperanto installed to run properly (and it is ridiculous). Furthermore, its not going to save you much space. And when you have to go to Mac's Genius Bar and eat your humble pie and tell them that you were stupid and want to repent for your stupid mistake, they won't laugh at you because that's poor customer service. Anyways, don't do that because it almost gave me a panic attack.
ALSO:
HOORAY FOR BASKETBALL! Just so you know, I think Wisconsin could win the Final Four. Any dissenting opinions can suck it because BUCKY BADGER WILL EAT YOUR FACE FOR BREAKFAST AND THEN DO COCK PUSHUPS ALL OVER YOUR EATEN OFF FACE.
Its hip to be square.
For your viewing pleasure, I present: Christian Bale (hotty), Jared Leto (post-hot Jordan Catalano, pre-fat goth), and my favorite scene from American Psycho:
Hearts and flowers,
xoxo.
-j
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Four way makeouts with movie stars.
I saw Zodiac and it was incredible how closely they followed the book. A synchronous adaptation, indeed. In what may be a first, I enjoyed the movie equally as much as the book. I'm going to dream of making out with a flamboyant Robert Downey Jr., a 1970s era Mark Ruffalo, and Donnie Darko tonight. Hot!
Friday, March 02, 2007
Paris in Springtime.
Anyone want to go to Paris for a long weekend in the first half of May? For serious.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
I am not watching awards shows tonight, and I am okay with that.
Since November, I've been getting paid to travel and write a book. The two aren't really connected, that is to say, I am not writing about traveling. I am writing and I am traveling. Mostly writing. So I sit at my computer and tippity-tap away, music in ears. Since November. That's what (counts on fingers, NovemberDecemberJanuaryFebruary) four months? That's nearly half of a human baby's gestation. And I absolutely cannot wait for the day, the very magical day when this book that I am writing will be complete.
Because as it stands, its depressing the hell out of me. Its sucking out my life force. I come home from work at night and my glazed over eyes don't want to think about anything. I don't want to be creative or produce anything of substance. Watch movie, zone out, fall asleep.
I'm a zombie. Minus the undead issue.
And yet, in two weeks, when I've birthed this book and its done and finished I can't help but think I'll be just a little sad. Spending four months struggling and loving and coddling this book and after the party we're having to celebrate its completion and my transition into foremost authority, I think I'll feel a bit relieved AND melancholy. Its my book, my project, my four and a half months of workingdreamingeatingbreathing about this book.
But those are feelings that are still two weeks away. For now I am feeling excited and tired and nervous and anxious and bewildered- there are some fairly major happenings besides this one project in my life. Big things I am too nervous to talk about right now. Major life transitions that cause me to talk to myself in my car and in the bathroom mirror as I attempt not to smudge the eyeliner under my eyes.
I'm a creature who craves positive reinforcement. So every step of the way lately has been about rewards: yes, you can have a Cadbury egg, yes, you can have a glass of wine, yes, you should wear a super cute outfit today. I'm also making a concious effort to spend less on the unnecessary things in my life so that I can enjoy the fun things- CDs, concerts, summer vacations to far (and near) lands. I look forward to start sewing again soon. I love sewing far more than knitting because I am a creature who relies on instant gratification. I've picked out the patterns (big and small) and the fabrics and I am so so excited. I'll keep you updated on my progress with those things.
My frigid fingers are struggling to keep up with my writing stride this evening. When my head craves writing, I follow because its a crap shoot when it may happen again. Even at 150 wpm, my fingers cannot keep up. My head is full of thoughts, my lungs are short on breath, my ears and my heart are full of beats. I slept with a wide open window last night and it felt refreshing to wake up to sunshine and birds chirping.
My music playlist lately:
The Get Up Kids - Something to Write Home About
The Fratellis - Costello Music
The Teddybears
Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion Soundtrack
R.E.M - Greatest Hits
LILY ALLEN, obvs.
iPod shuffle because it hurts to think.
Things I dig about college towns:
JIMMY JOHN'S.
Sidenote
This is a big week for me and the direction of my life, you guys, and although I can't talk about it right now, will you please think of me? Will you please keep me in your thoughts? Will you just remember that I could use some positive thinking right now? I cannot tell you how much it means to me and how much I am trying to send my positive thoughts to all of you too...
Because as it stands, its depressing the hell out of me. Its sucking out my life force. I come home from work at night and my glazed over eyes don't want to think about anything. I don't want to be creative or produce anything of substance. Watch movie, zone out, fall asleep.
I'm a zombie. Minus the undead issue.
And yet, in two weeks, when I've birthed this book and its done and finished I can't help but think I'll be just a little sad. Spending four months struggling and loving and coddling this book and after the party we're having to celebrate its completion and my transition into foremost authority, I think I'll feel a bit relieved AND melancholy. Its my book, my project, my four and a half months of workingdreamingeatingbreathing about this book.
But those are feelings that are still two weeks away. For now I am feeling excited and tired and nervous and anxious and bewildered- there are some fairly major happenings besides this one project in my life. Big things I am too nervous to talk about right now. Major life transitions that cause me to talk to myself in my car and in the bathroom mirror as I attempt not to smudge the eyeliner under my eyes.
I'm a creature who craves positive reinforcement. So every step of the way lately has been about rewards: yes, you can have a Cadbury egg, yes, you can have a glass of wine, yes, you should wear a super cute outfit today. I'm also making a concious effort to spend less on the unnecessary things in my life so that I can enjoy the fun things- CDs, concerts, summer vacations to far (and near) lands. I look forward to start sewing again soon. I love sewing far more than knitting because I am a creature who relies on instant gratification. I've picked out the patterns (big and small) and the fabrics and I am so so excited. I'll keep you updated on my progress with those things.
My frigid fingers are struggling to keep up with my writing stride this evening. When my head craves writing, I follow because its a crap shoot when it may happen again. Even at 150 wpm, my fingers cannot keep up. My head is full of thoughts, my lungs are short on breath, my ears and my heart are full of beats. I slept with a wide open window last night and it felt refreshing to wake up to sunshine and birds chirping.
My music playlist lately:
The Get Up Kids - Something to Write Home About
The Fratellis - Costello Music
The Teddybears
Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion Soundtrack
R.E.M - Greatest Hits
LILY ALLEN, obvs.
iPod shuffle because it hurts to think.
Things I dig about college towns:
JIMMY JOHN'S.
Sidenote
This is a big week for me and the direction of my life, you guys, and although I can't talk about it right now, will you please think of me? Will you please keep me in your thoughts? Will you just remember that I could use some positive thinking right now? I cannot tell you how much it means to me and how much I am trying to send my positive thoughts to all of you too...
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