mmm...football

You cannot imagine how excited I am. Well maybe you can but I AM that excited. Like wet my pants excited. Like strip and run around the quad screaming excited. Like ring the stupid bell excited. Like set a couch on fire on the quad excited. Actually I have done none of these things and I don't really understand why they are things you do when you are excited but they seem to happen on campus in celebration. I however do not live on campus. I did my own little dances and smiled a whole lot, made some obligatory phone calls. You know the drill. We are going to the Super Bowl damnit!

Four years of wandering around this god-forsaken frozen tundra of a Red-Sox Nation where people care about baseball 370 days out of a year but only care about football when their team is good and think this makes a true fan. I heard so much about that stupid dynasty. So much about how the Steelers couldn't cut it, couldn't handle it. Four years of this garbage. Five even. When we came up here to visit campus the Steelers played the Pats in the playoffs and lost. I was heartbroken and beaten down and trod on and sad. (in memory enough sad things happened when I visited here that I donno why I came at all) That is when I decided I hated the Patriots on principle. I will admit that they are a good football team but that doesn't mean I have to like them-ever. I did cheer for them last weekend because I wanted desperately for us to meet again in the playoffs. This year it was our turn to win, to prove it to the Patriots that we had ourselves all together, but they didn't really bother to come out to play. This time it is them all balled up and we didn't have to beat them. For once I was surrounded by people cheering for my beloved team. Their teams had fallen one by one over the course of the season and they were left only the Steelers to cheer for. The most recent comers were those New England types with murderous "I hope you destroy them" "This game will be a slaughter" wishes for the Broncos. Well boys and girls we can in fact give you your dreams. Denver went home embarrassed and we are off to Detroit. Hugs all around.

But you do know what this means don't you? Our beloved Jerome Bettis, is gonna retire. He is going to the Super Bowl, in his home town no less. What a better way to go out than that. My favorite sign from the game was "Detroit recalls bus number 36 Super Bowl XL" No one can blame him at this point for going out with a bang like that. The question is, do they announce it after we win or do they wait a week or so? Also, does everyone else love his mom as much as I do? I tell you what, she should be doing those Campbell's Soup commercials except for I don't actually like them and as 5L pointed out, if a mom really cared about her boys wouldn't she make her own soup for um instead of opening up a can? Come on now.

mmm... life is good-Jn

Pictures?

Originally uploaded by jnkcmd.

I am again sitting at work wasting time. The only thing is tonight I have more of an excuse because I am covering the 2000-2400 shift on a Saturday. Far more busy than the lazy 4-8s I usually work. I would never be able to read anything without getting crazy distracted, honest. I played with pictures instead. Mom convinced me a flickr was better than another blog so we are trying it out. I filled it up with word pictures from the fun room. Eventually if I like it I will throw on some more photos from other stuff. We will see.

Behold. . . good things

Can I just mention that I am the coolest person in the world. Yesterday anyways.


This is Myrtle. She weighs something like 650 lbs and lives in the big tank at the New England Aquarium. I fed her.



I also got to feed (and pet) multiple Trigger Fish, Bristle Fish, and Permit. This was after wandering around the aquarium when it was empty looking at cool stuff, watching the penguins for ages, and gazing longingly at all the amazon exhibits. I know more about the catfish parasite than the parasitology proff and I impressed the guys in the vet hospital with my 'vast' knowledge of herps and rain forest critters and mostly with the fact that I was too excited about my life and life in general to sit still. Did I mention that they also took us to the sea turtle hospital and I got to see wee Kemp's Ridley turtles (not so wee as to be just hatched... more like one year old wee) which are like wicked endangered. Oh and they have breeding amazonian turtles which is crazy cool cause turtles are so picky about breeding conditions (they are endangered too).

And the whole time through they were like "You guys seem to like this sort of thing more than we expected can we show you something else? Do you want to try this here? Would you like an internship? How about a job? I have a scholarship for students like you. Dr. Blend would you like to do a guest dive in the aquarium? These people in your area would love volunteer help. Here have some cool stuff."

The whole point of this was to take some pictures for StillPoint (which I rather detest on principle) and various other Gordon publications for the sake of the sciences. I don't really like pictures but I will be a freaking poster child if they let me play in that tank baby. Me and Myrtle man, we are tight now.

Skipping class -> SO worth it.

That would be a mistake

We have this game at my house. It seems really simple, almost accidental but who is to say. It goes like this. Someone sings a song. Someone else hears that song but doesnt learn the words. The song gets stuck in their head and is reborn in whatever words come out.

Past favorites at this game include:

- It's cheese that makes the world go round

- Over my head I smell bacon in the air

- Canned peas, they never get dirty

- Canned peas, canned peas out on the front porch

If you want to include inuendo changes we can include:

-My old dan is always ready

Mostly they are camp songs and mostly they involve food. (I am trying to think of any that don't and I am drawing a blank.) This is because 5L and Jn know a plethora of camp songs and most of our life together involves the kitchen in some way shape or form. Some songs are choir songs and some just happen to happen.

A reprint of sorts: Upon further review of the songs in question and taking in to account that Kt reminded me of another song, choir songs and camp songs are tied 3 and 3 and there are some extra random songs thrown in. However, I know I am missing several. Apparently there is also a new choir song that is sufficiently strange enough to warrant me being eager to learn it, but the housemates REFUSE to teach me. I'm just gonna wait it out. If it is worth it eventually they will sing it around me without thinking and then it will be mine forever... or until the corner of that 2x4 meets me on the forehead.

The current song up for distruction (distraction?) is called The Baby Sitter's Here by Dar Williams. The actual lyrics are as follows. . .

She's the best one that we've ever had
She sits on her hair
And she's tall as my dad

Now after 2 days in my house this song only resembles itself in tune and meter. I think I am going to wait to tell you what it has become currently because it is still becoming other than it was. However if you want to play our little game then just sing the song in your head for a while and see what ends up popping out. Be sure to let me know.

The words that came

I found the kitten on Argilla Road. It was soaking wet and near frozen and I swear it hadn’t eaten since the day it was born. I am going to admit to you that it did actually make me feel all good in side momentarily to pick the pathetic thing up and put it in my bag. I am not, nor have I ever been about the warm-and-fuzzy. I don’t do sympathy or pity and I don’t receive them well either, so I can’t tell you why I looked twice at the cat. But I picked up the sopping mass of bones and stuck in my bag, on top of the only dry articles of clothing I possessed.

It is easy now to look back on that night and sort of lose the perspective and the context of the night. I wonder why I didn’t put the thing up under my shirt so it could get warm against my body and take it home and crack a can of tuna for the both of us. Usually, I choose to forget that I was as wet and hungry and cold and alone as that stupid animal and had no place to come from or go to. I like to forget these things. It’s better that way, but sometimes, for the sake of a story, you remember.

I stood there for a while, getting no wetter or colder as I had reached the depths of those sensations hours ago, wondering what it meant in the grand scheme of the world that I had become the owner of a beast. I thought about taking it out and setting it down again, but really, from the time I lifted it off the sidewalk I felt responsibility for the thing. I mean if I set it down now it would die and it would be my fault. I finally decided to head over to Marty’s to warm up and think.

Now Marty’s Donut Land is a unique little refuge for those like me because it opens at midnight. It also happens to offer a free cup of coffee provided you have enough pocket change for the donut. On nights like that night, a hundred and six cents was invaluable to me as it gave me a space and a time to get warm and dry and fed without too much hassle. The folks down at Marty’s generally want to like everyone as that is the sort of small town I had been frequenting and they consequently wanted to like me. The problem is I am a wholly unlikable person by almost all standards starting with the fact that you can’t call me by name. I don’t have one. They resolved to tolerate me since they could do nothing better, and I respect them for their choice. They, in turn, respect my humanity by serving me a cup of coffee and always expecting me to pay full price.

So I sat there pondering the meaning of kitten ownership while my socks pretended to dry and my hands actually got warm wrapped around the mug. Until about a half hour ago I was the sole proprietor of a windbreaker with a broken zipper, a hooded sweat shirt, three t-shirts, one pair of pants, three socks with holes and one without, a knit hat and a pair of sneakers. Everything was wet except for one t-shirt and a pair of mismatched socks, which were only dirty, my back half of a Book of Common Prayer, and my harmonica that were all living peaceably together in my bag. Now everything was wet except for nothing, and I owned a cat that I suddenly cared very deeply for and could not feed. I couldn’t reconcile this.

It was one thing if I could not feed myself. This was and always would be my own fault. If I couldn’t find my own food and was too proud to beg and too moral to steal very often, I was the only one to blame. But this thing now living in my bag with my few other possessions could do nothing about the fact that it had been claimed and could not choose one way or the other to better its situation. It was at this point not its own fault that it was starving, it was mine. And just like setting it back down again would be some type of cruel murder so would not feeding it. However the only way I saw to feed it would be to ask for a handout which I had not ever done and would not ever do. Similarly, I did not pick up kittens, yet I knew there was one sleeping in my bag between my feet and it was hungry.

I flipped open the bag just to be sure. It opened its eyes at the disturbance, made a strange sort of tired and starving but at least warm kitten smile and went back to sleep. Yes it was there and yes it was mine.

I don’t know that I ever reached a philosophical conclusion to my problem, but I do know that I reached a physical one. I am still shocked when I remember myself standing up and walking awkwardly over to the counter. What I said was something like, “Look, I don’t do this and I think you know that, but I have this kitten now that I found tonight and so I guess its mine. It needs something to eat that’s all.” At that point I realized what I was doing, shut my mouth and went back to my cat-bundle to finish my coffee.

Much to my combined dismay and relief, my host came over after a few minutes of digging around behind the counter and set a dish of milk on the table. He asked to see the cat and after a few moments of inspection he introduced the kitten to the milk by my feet. I was too engrossed in watching my animal eat contentedly to notice that my host pulled up a chair and sat down. I jumped when he started talking.

He said, “I don’t give handouts because you don’t take them. This for me is an investment and since your partner is already eating his breakfast you can’t at this point say no because I know you don’t have change to pay for it.” I winced when I realized I was trapped but whether he noticed or not he just kept talking. “You may not have a name but that cat down there needs one. I will pay you the cost of the milk for his naming rights. You call him Marty. He can be a four-legged billboard if anyone asks you about it. I intend to protect my investment as well. If he ever gets hungry or cold or sick you bring him here and let me know. He is welcome here any time.”

With that he left the table and went to visit with some regulars. I put my wet shoes back on while I waited for Marty to finish, then I tucked him back in my bag and we headed out into the cold together. He was full and happy and therefore I was happy which is something I could not remember being for a long time.

...............................................

Marty took fairly well to the vagabond life he had been born in to and eventually we found out that he was actually a she when she had kittens. There was some sort of contest at the donut shop to parcel out the kittens when they were old enough. One still lives at the shop and I think another ended up at the police station. Marty and I live in an apartment a few towns over and we do pretty well for ourselves. You might wonder how I got from this place to that one but well, that’s not a story worth remembering.

Work...mmrrr

I am sitting here bored at work again and waiting for words to come. Maybe something profound from the ashes in my head. I watched both football games today. I wasn't really thrilled with either of them. The first because it was really like a non game most of the way through and the second because I wanted the patriots to win. Not because I like the patriots mind you but because I wanted them to play the Stillers next week. Now it won't happen...unless the stillers lose (which is inconceivable) and they decide to play a game of pick up ball next week and randomly televise it. Needless to say I was a very sad Jenn.

I'm bored. Lets see what words will come. . .

I'm too cold to get up and make breakfast

I am going to get up shortly and my myself a proper breakfast. It doesn't happen as often as I would like these days. I realized that the majority of my words in the past while have been in a poemacious form and while there is nothing wrong with that I am going to add a little else for the purpose of update.

I am back at school and rather bitter about it. See I knew this would happen this me back at school business but I never really reconciled myself to this fact. So now here I am back and expected to go to classes and I don't want to go. No one asked me if I wanted to go. No one thought that maybe it would bother me at all. They just said your classes are at this time and this time. Get your ass to campus on time. I have only actually been to 3 class sessions so far too because my schedule is strange.

I have also worked a good deal right of the bat. Seems it is known that I am a sucker for DPS and can't say no to an open shift without a really good reason. I'm still not done covering the bits and broken pieces shifts while they hire new dispatchers. I keep pushing for a full like head dispatcher position and a hiring of me but we all know that won't happen. I don't know why i want that job anyways. In related news. KL is back on the north shore and she is gonna be 107. This makes me more than a little happy. I haven't seen her yet even though I was supposed to help her unpack last night. It just sort of couldnt happen and now I dont know when it will but I'm surviving. I havent seen her since like what spring break last year. Thats far to long a span for a friend like her.

Did I mention I am also a cranky pants? I have been all balled up basically since I got back in MA. I am still trying to figure out why. Part of it I think is that I havent been to church in forever. I missed it last Sunday because of poor planning and I am still not over that fact. I am also not really sleeping much or well or at all (coupled with working stranger hours this means an exhausted Jenn). I basically come home stupid tired and its like 5 oclock. I manange to scrounge some form of respectable dinner and make my way to bed. This needs to change but until I figure out the source of this malady I will just float through. I mostly need to get over myself and quit whining but when I am this tired pretty much everything is a huge deal. At least I didn't get sick.

The positive news from the front is that I have had good chats with several friends and forsee meals, outings, football games, or other mutual events in our futures. Some of them I might never see again because schedules are stupid but hey I'm not going to think about that yet. Me and MK are planning homework parties to keep ourselves on track which will be amazing if it works. No more of this imcomplete garbage for Jenn. We are also planning happy hippie communes in various places round the country. She wants to head to Chicago because the North East is deeply unsettling to her being and I am planning mine up around these parts because the lack of topography in the midwest kills my soul. The idea is to gather a group of like minded people and stick them in whatever house best suits them based on temperment or job/grad school opportunities. We are both currently accepting applications and want to start acting on our plans as early as this summer. I'm excited.

Now I will go eat breakfast mostly because i am bored with myself. . .

Words from AJC in the later morning

Sheeple (1/13/05- In Chapel)

Should it bother me
That I dont know what you just said?
I can see you talking
But your words don't reach my head.
Are you calling for peace or war
The new order or the old?
I'm just smiling and nodding,
Doing what I'm told.
I'm living the life of a sheeple
Moving in lines from class to steeple.
Is that really wrong?
Whatever. Moving on...

-Jn

Words from RRC in the morning

All Fired Up and No Place to Go (1/13/06)

There are no more pictures on the walls
And the gifts were told where to go
Piled with letters and love notes
The night they danced in a red-orange glow

But there’s still anger in the making
Bitterness in the blood
Sweat and tears are coming
An impending foul mood

With me all fired up and no place to go
Nothing to see
Nothing to show
Nothing left to run around
It just gets me down

I scrapped all but memories
And would off those if I could
I want nothing more of this
No pain is better now than good

But he still comes to me in dreams
To haunt me while I sleep
And seeps in through dark corners
The memories I don’t want to keep

Now I’m all fired up with no place to go
Nothing to see
Nothing to show
Nothing left to run around
He just gets me down

So you caught me standing lonely
Screaming the air blue
Because I can’t make him leave me
Now you’re wondering what to do

Let me go. Let me punch the wall
And kiss me where I bleed
I never wanted him
Just you- That’s all I need

When I collapse in tears
Then you can hold me tight
Soon dreams of you will replace him
And I will sleep through the night

I’m still all fired up but please don’t go
I’m nothing to see
With nothing to show
But I won’t run around
He just gets me down
Sometimes I still get down

-Jn

Happy hippie house

Sometime I am going to live in a house with a bunch of happy hippies. I kind of already have. Friend Adam doesn't actually like hippies but somehow he is friends with Ewal and he likes me too. There was going to be more about the happy hippie house here but it is way past my bed time (someone got me sick). Suffice it to say that Friend Adam was talking abotu damn dirty hippies so they were in my head...

Dancing in the Rain (01/09/06)

A harmonica is all I need
So long as he has his guitar
We’ll sing songs we’ve collected together
Share our life in your coffee shops and bars
Sure we dance when ever it rains
And we don’t like to wear our shoes
We believe in beauty and love and peace
But don’t you wish that you could too?

We’ve got a house with some big maple trees
And good friends who live around
I know you’re not be glad that we moved in
Afraid we’ll change the feel of your town
You’re thinking ‘Goddamn dirty hippies
It’s kids like these that we don’t need
Let a few in here and then
They’ll breed like rabbits, spread like weeds’

So what if I have some intimate friends
Who need shelter for a while
How can you ask me to do less
Than bringing them in with a hug and a smile
We believe in helping each other
We think it’s the way things should be
It’s what happens when you start to look for
Things like beauty, love, and peace

You’re worried about the droves of children
That we have not yet had
Thinking we will all starve to death
Or that they won’t know their dad
But our children won’t get rickets
And we will teach them how to read
They will know how to multiply
And they live with beauty, love, and peace

Yes, his hair may be as long as mine
And I don’t wear a wedding band
But we have our love and our music
We don’t need your five-year plan
I may not care for money
And he may not care for fame
But I promise you we have all we need
Beauty, love and peace,
Dancing barefoot in the rain

-Jn

Because I want it to fit

Dance with Both Feet (12/17/05- In a drummers basement)

Waltz back over this way
And share my bottle of wine
Baby I can see it now
We’ll do it right this time

There ain’t no use in hiding
SPACE My God can’t you see it
I can see it in those eyes
SPACE I’ve danced on far past this
My pretty purple darling
SPACE Your pretty purple something
You leave me no surprise
SPACE Doesn’t trust your bright light promises

SPACE You love me and you leave me
SPACE Do you think that I can’t see
SPACE I’m tired of doing right by you
SPACE When you can’t do right by me

-Jn

(The purple is suposed to be scooted over a little bit but I can't convince blogger that it likes this idea. I have sort of cooerced it into compliance but I dont like my solution. If you know how to make it work can you let me know?)

Part 2: Where our hero meets a local

When I woke up an estimated 2 days later the sun was shining on me and I heard the gentle lapping waves against the boat. I had no clue where I was but everything was so peaceful it didn't seem to matter, that is until I sat up and remembered I had a head. I fought the pain long enough to stand up and lean against the side of the boat. I had washed ashore on what looked like paradise. The only thing that didn't exactly fit was the bedraggled man sitting by the tree line watching me. I chose that point in time to let the pain and unconsciousness win.



An unspecified amount of time later I tried this process again...and again...and again. Wake up blissfully, reactivate my pain sensors while lurching toward the side of the boat, and find a strange man staring at me. The only difference the forth time was that I realized I was approaching ridiculous and I managed to get myself to the beach before collapsing. The trees fuzzed in and out several times but never went completely black and after I puked up something like seawater I crawled up the beach to the man (who was still sitting in the same spot watching me) for lack of any better ideas.

His clothing was fairly shredded but you could make out the remains of a tie around his neck and he was sitting cross-legged on the remains of a sport coat. He was very dirty, very tanned, or both. He was surrounded by something that looked like watermelon rinds though they lacked the characteristic smell and he was staring trance-like at the ocean. There was a considerable period of awkward silence until I managed to cough up any seawater left in my system. He started speaking without turning to look at me.

"You look like you are dead. I am still not entirely comfortable with the fact that you are alive and by your performance earlier I don't know if you are either. However if you feel that you are and you find yourself hungry or thirsty please have some of my melon. I am willing to share exactly half of what I have left."

With that he procured a wooden machete from behind himself and sliced the remainder of the melon in half with a loud 'thwack' and handed it to me all without taking his eyes from the sea. I didn't bother to think about or taste the strange fruit; I just began consuming it in all of its juiciness. While I ate the strange man started talking again.

"When I have finished here, I will take you back to the village and someone will find you a place to stay. You are perhaps the youngest reporter to ever wash up on these shores and I am surprised that you managed to break in to the field so early. But I won't bother to ask you how because it doesn't matter any more."

"If you manage to get words out between bites I know you will ask how I knew you were a reporter so I will save you the time. This island entirely populated with people like yourself who arrived in the same manner. Either by some horrible accident or a cruel joke they were set a drift to end up here, the Island of Washed-Up News Persons. Your attire and the slicker give away your particular specialty. You are far too professionally dressed to be a mere wire-coiler. No, you must spend time in front of a camera, and the rain gear indicates that you were covering something outside, presumably the hurricane that recently passed through. An anchor man like myself would not be caught out in the rain on purpose."

"Whether you care to know or not I will tell you how I came to this island. I was lost in a tragic accident at a station Christmas party on the station owner's yacht. Two fellows began yelling to me that the engines were on fire and I must head immediately for the lifeboats. They cast me off before any of the others could make it to the boats. I fear that they all perished. It must have been very unfortunate for the station to have lose their best man but such is life."

As he was speaking my attention started drifting. I could vaguely remember hearing about a news anchor getting drunk and leaving a party by life boat. He had never been found and the nicest thing they could say on the news was at least it saved him from being fired as he was a good deal past his prime. I mentally shrugged and tried to listen again.

"You will like this island when you get over the fact that it is not actually paradise, you did not choose to come here, and you cannot leave."

With those last words his speech was over. Apparently his cue-cards in the clouds vanish and the trance was broken. He donned his sport coat, gathered the rest of his melon and the machete, and started walking. After about 5 steps he hurled the melon into the ocean without missing a step. I sighed the heaviest sigh I could manage and followed him down the beach.




Several years later one of the members of my former crew came ashore on the west side of the island. He had been covering a riot on a cruise ship and someone threw him off of the boat. He managed to find a life jacket floating amid the other junk floating around the wrecked ship but before he could make it back on the boat a deck chair caught him in the head. He was kind enough to apologize and offered to tell me about my fabled disappearance as the rest of the world knew it. I declined. I figure if I get bored someday while gathering coconuts I might bother to ask him but stuff like that just doesn’t really matter on the Island of Washed-Up News Persons.

Part 1: Where our hero gets mixed up in a beach resort struggle

A story by request. Among other things it includes: An East Coast Beach Resort, A Washed-Up Anchor Man, and something similar to water melon rinds. (I did not use an actual watermelon rind so improvised with more of something similar.) It is in two parts because, well because I said so. The story begins in small town America, not too far from the eastern coast of Florida. . .

I mean ever since I was a little kid I just wanted to be a reporter yah know. During the summer I would wander around the neighborhood asking the neighbors questions like I was a real reporter and when the family was eating dinner I would give them the news like I was the man on the TV. No one really paid me much attention but I knew I was destined for greatness.

When I was 16, I applied for at the local news station. I told them I roll up the cables or make coffee and doughnut runs or anything as long as they would let me ride in the truck. The man behind the desk called me a ‘cute kid’ which I wasn’t so fond of, but he also said ‘what the Hell’ and told someone to take me to the van. The crew was about as fond of my presence as I was of being called a cute kid but they were stuck with me. While I thought I was busy learning the ropes and being all kinds of helpful sorting through wires and passing out coffee, they all thought I was sloshing too much stuff on expensive equipment. (I didn’t find out this little detail until much later. It would have been a helpful tidbit to stick in to my back pocket for reference but life doesn’t always give you useful information before you need it.)

Now it turns out that a few counties over some Indians dug up a few skulls while beach combing and discovered an old burial ground. They were causing quite an uproar claiming they were going to run the mouse off their sacred ground and purify it by remodeling the resort into a family oriented casino. The folks down at the resort didn’t much like this idea and talked a lot about fraud and planting evidence and hiring lawyers. The good people living there at Vero Beach didn’t really care either way so long as there was something exciting going on. And they were right; this was exciting (or at least newsworthy) so we packed up our gear in the van and headed to the coast.

Apparently a half-grown hurricane heard about the mess too, and he decided to show up and add his two cents about who owned what. This meant we were going to spend a good deal of time trapped in a room in the hotel in question while Hurricane Howard took back what awnings and beach chairs he felt were rightfully his and the more diminutive parties waited for their turn to claim their share over at the courthouse.

The crew was determined to face this hardship professionally and courageously and they prepared by stocking the room with cheap booze. I was demoted from wire-piler to ice-fetcher when it became apparent that there would be no more reporting and thus no need to unroll wires and that the camera man could no longer support his own weight. On my forth trip to the ice machine (this time to get some for the camera mans head which met the table rather abruptly during a failed attempt to tango with the still plugged in lamp) someone came up with a brilliant idea to cover the ‘Storm of Epic Proportions’ for our friends back home. Since the camera man was less than conscious and the only person who knew how to get the perfect camera angle was the reporter that meant I would have to function in her stead. That is what they told me anyways.

I was ecstatic. This was my big chance. I threw on my just-in-case outfit which I then proceeded to cover with a rain slicker and we wandered out to the beach to get the really good wind shot. They decided it would look best if I was out on a boat roughing the waves but as the equipment was delicate, they needed to stay on shore. So they cast me off and when I was far enough away to begin the footage they went back inside.

I wasn’t quite sure what that meant except that I was wet and alone in a hurricane and I couldn’t get back to shore. My frantic attempts left me slipping and sliding and it wasn’t long before I joined the camera man in the land of unconsciousness.

Improv Blogging

I had a custom designed story built just for me and I am very much impressed. See it worked like this. I supplied a few random words and specifications and that got stirred around the the brain of an illustrious wordsmith and then congealed in the form of a story. I was very impressed and thoroughly amused. Maybe you could play the game too. You know, I will give you the words and you will make me a story. Then you can go and read Ed's and compare.

These were my speculations:

An over night flight to Belarus (this one came out of my own head...why not)

A badger (This is also a popular drink at the Burton Coffee shop)

A Snorkle

And the words Gelatinous, Fangoriously and Linebacker.

You all have fun with that...

-Jn

But what does it do?

What it does is it goes like this…I fell asleep in the car which I have no recollection of therefore making these dreamed events more real. And when I fell asleep in the car with no recollection of it I also dreamed…

Apparently we were in a booth in a diner not entirely unlike Eppinger’s except much cleaner if comparisons must be made. I was trying to explain to Lz that she was being more than a little ridiculous, but she would have none of it. The others were on my side which made her more sulky than was to be expected of someone abruptly removed from a European choir tour for a perfectly reasonable reason.

The others (I think) included Kt and Shuffles and potentially 5L, but the periphery people matter less as all they happened to be doing was agreeing with me and being overly unconcerned about the fact that I had removed them from a European choir tour and thus Extreme Danger by a bit of travel back in time. I feel as though they should have been relieved about the saved from Extreme Danger bit and shocked by the time travel bit but they were neither of these, only amused. (I think this may be how people frequently feel when dealing with me. Good to have perspective.)

Did I mention that it should be strange that Shuffles was there needing to be saved as he is not in the choir. It wasn’t strange because this was a dream but it should be. He was also the least concerned member of the party when I mentioned time travel which wasn’t strange. I was sure he had done it before at least once or twice and I still don’t think otherwise though he has never told me directly in the dream or out of it.

I know I have mentioned that they were all agreeing with me that Lz was being ridiculous, but what I failed to mention was that while they were not wrong they had very confused reasoning…as did Lz for that matter. They all felt she was ridiculous because she would give up a perfectly good opportunity to travel through time on account of she was supposed to sing a solo that night. They should have felt she was ridiculous because she wanted to stay and sing her solo even when assured that Extreme Danger was there. (By the way, I diverted these particular choir members early enough that they were noticed to be truly missing and a replacement soloist was found before the show. She was, I assure you, not half as good as Lz would have been, but far less dangerous.)

Lz was actually ridiculous for two reasons. The second was that she was still put out about the argument that we would be having in the future, or rather the argument that we did have when I went forward (as my previous place in time had been earlier, earlier in fact than the diner but that is actually irrelevant) in time to retrieve the members and brought them backwards with me into safety and good food. But as the argument had not happened yet it was somewhat petty to still be so sullen about it. The first reason caused the argument in the first place (and for this reason, logically, it is the first reason). When I mentioned that to ferry them to safety I would have to move them backwards in time, she above the others came the closest to understanding what that would mean in terms of memories remembered and fun experienced. Her being the closest also made her the most wrong.

See, I knew about the Extreme Danger long before choir tour and failed to mention it. I waited for them to go off and have all sorts of fun and saved them at the last possible, probable moment before the Extreme Danger struck by shifting them backwards a few weeks and westward (or eastward in this case as that dimension works itself out either way) more than a few miles to a nice little diner where the hostess was not surprised when we appeared rather suddenly in a booth by the window. I waited to remove them from Extreme Danger to maximize the fun quotient. Lz was concerned that the foray backwards had killed the existence of these events though clearly the events had happened (and presumably were presently happening) because she could recall them in detail while she was informing me that I was rude for taking her memories away by negating the happenings of the things. She sort of missed the point on that one but no one else was paying attention. They were having too much fun with the Jukebox at the end of the booth and assuming Lz was mopey because she would not be singing that solo. I suppose they may have been partly right and that this was the underlying cause for her present (past) (future) distress, but I was tired enough that I wanted to deal in logic arguments and not emotional ones.

They were all more than a little ridiculous because they failed to grasp the importance of the fact that after our amazingly delicious, filling, wholesome and surprisingly cheap meal at my favorite stopping place during timespace travel, we would have to be off again with Extreme Danger at our heels. But as I failed to mention that little detail I suppose I can’t judge them too harshly.


I woke up when we got home…

Roadward Rants (actually from Thursday)

We are well on our way and my N key is mostly broken but I am trying to beat that out of it’s system. If you wonder why it’s important just scan the past 2 sentences and think about Wheel of Fortune. Speaking of old-timey talking box game shows from back when TV was less annoying, did anyone ever think of the name Jeopardy and what it actually means (Risk, danger etc.)? Makes Alec seem a little bit scarier eh? Or maybe we just didn’t have a good grasp of what danger really meant back when they named the show.

I am rocking out to Queen’s of the Stone Age thanks to EWal. It’s pouring through these crazy crappy earbuds that came from some airline according to the RQ. I typed earbugs the first time and that is what they remind me of anyways so if I refer to them again I will use that. I am beginning to think that it will be easier to just spell check this beast at the end ad quit worrying about the missing N’s as they come. I have been more or less worthless since I got back from Ct or such is my opinion of the general opinion. Part of this I am going to thank/blame EWal for. See he made 2 amazing fatal errors while I was hanging out.

1. He gave me copious amounts of music. This made my compy a little heavier than normal and a good deal more lethargic. So I burned some pounds off of her and on to CDs. Stuff that I never listen to and thus would not miss. But this took considerable time and I am still not done. I also need to copy some of this good new music into CD form so that it is more easily accessible whilst driving. I don’t know as Dad is going to let me drive at all tonight so it may not come to a point where it matters today.

2. He gave me books in excess. And it isn’t like crappy books that you sorta skim through. No these are good, pull you in, become your entire world books. It’s kinda painful. (See 5L’s page for a bit of a rant on book reading that more or less applies to me) I read one book while I was still in Ct sort of under cover when I was bored and when I mentioned how much I enjoyed myself I got a full stack of books. Oh by the way these are mostly by Kurt Vonnegut who is currently ranking up there with most enjoyed authors. The other is The Hitchhiker;s Guide to the Galaxy which is becoming more fascinating on more levels than I thought possible. Suffice it to say that since break started the world as we know it has ended three times and I am in the middle of 2 books because one was packed when I had a spare 5 minutes turned half hour. At this point it is too dark to read any more and I am very distraught.

Thank God for earbugs. My headphones met an untimely demise in the nether reaches of the rainforest up the Rio Las Piedras when they were trod upon by myself. Some loud and angry words ensued followed by some degree of mouring. I guess it wasn’t all that untimely. I just wasn’t ready for them to go yet. I had them for 3 years which is the longest I have ever managed to keep any pair alive. So the earbugs were an afterthought. After I thought of how miserable a trip listening to only their music would be and questioned the RQ on the location of headphones and a music playing device and after she though she could find a good pair. I can tell I am going deaf because these have to be dangerously close and dangerously loud to more or less block out the stream of commercial free middle aged country slipping in to the magical new box on the dashboard and out through the speakers. I don’t care. Dad got mom Sirius for Christmas and gave it to her early for the trip out. The HGG mentions Sirius (or something very like it anyways) in less than happy terms. My vote is still out and it has me thinking about consumption. Get ready it is about to get deep.

I have heard it said (and as I like the concept I have said) that when you drink in a bar you do not buy the beer, you only rent it. This is true to an extent. You pay to use it for a little while but usually you return the liquid in some form before exiting the bar (though you might wait until you get outside to project it or water your car tires), but as you damage the form of it to the point where it cannot be reused I don’t think it is actually renting. In general the same is true of food and I am finding Sirius Radio too. You purchase something for a price and it is prepared and consumed. If you don’t use it by a set time it becomes unusable garbage…unless you compost. So we have this little box on the dash feeding us music so that we can consume it. We take it in, fire some electrons, and maybe form a memory about something. The rest is lost forever in heat and brain electricity. Kinda like a toilet flush. Sept what you flush can be reprocessed to kill all the bad guys and then used to grow more corn and carrots that you aren’t going to really digest anyways. But what happens to the waste sound waves? And here is another thing, when you buy/rent food or beer you are trading money (granted this is often an imaginary idea stored in computer chips or in value placed on pretty colored pieces of paper but that is another rant I am not prepared for tonight) for a physical commodity. In theory you could trade this with someone else for other goods or services if you felt so inclined. You might even make a little extra imaginary money. When you buy a CD you get a physical object capable of creating music on demand indefinitely (if you take care of it anyways). When you buy the radio you get a stream of sound waves that pour out of a sound wave generating machine. A few bother in the direction of your ears and the rest skitter away to parts unknown. What are you actually purchasing? Can you break it down in to each wave length costs ~0.001 cents if you listen an hour a day? How can you tell if that is worth it? How do you place a value on noise from a box? And how arrogant is the bastard that says my happiness is worth X dollars a month, or an hour, or a minute? If I am one of those cheap and easy types… easily amused with little to no money invested…does that some how make me less valuable than mall worshiping, SUV driving, cable purchasing soccer mom? How does this work?

Y’all are going to find this painful if I actually decide to post this. It is beastly long…but less melancholy than the last…at least in my opinion.

Missouri Bound*

We are leaving in a few hours to head out to the g-rents with a stop at my sisters in Cinci on the way. I would be lying if I told you I was excited about heading west. (I could get excited about north or south but only if it plopped me in the right location like below the equator or near any one of those kids that lives in Ct or the one with the number in the name. East would only be good if it then changed in to going northwards up 84) In general right now I would be lying if I told you I was excited about anything. I am so anti-comercialism as to become more or less anit-Christmas and yes I suppose I could turn to the warm fuzzy see your friends ideas or to church like any good Christian and I am thinking that is where you were about to send me but well that just wont work. See I started out my break ok and hanging out with people I love dearly but it hasn't worked out to see people in PA yet and it doesn't look promising so there isn't much fuzzy to find there. And the fact that I started out having such a good time makes the withdrawl that much worse. Plus I have no money for the giving of gifts when I do see friends even if I decided to support the monsterous gods of comercialism in their shiny temples full of piped in christmas cheer. I was planning on buying a llama or some ducks in honnor of everyone I care about to support starving children instead of spending $5 here or there for something more or less worthless but at this point it looks like I can't even swing that. As for church, well my church is in MA and I am not there so that doesnt help me either. So I am at a loss as to what to do about Christmas. I think I am just going to let it slide on by kinda like a speed bump and then keep on going with break.

On a positive note I've had a lot of time to read so far since I was more or less carless and in a few hours I will be behind the wheel of the trusty beast Bella making the passing telephone poles look more like a picket fence. I am sure I wont post til I get back so don't expect much. -Jn



* This is kind of like being Hell bound only you get to have less fun along the way.

Oh yeah and the turtle is just for kicks because he is pretty and makes me happy. 

What would you like to see then?

I spent the past chunk of days running around in the middle of CT loving life. I was staying with friends and playing with friends and it was weird to have to leave. I had some good quality chunks of writing time too. Sometimes when there wasn't a lot going on or my host was busy I would scribble for a while and one night EWal took me to his drummers house and I got to listen to the band jam for hours on end and I walked out of the house with like 6 pages of scribblings. Mostly one or two lines that still need dressed up before I can take them out of the magic book of colors but some good stuff came out too. That will sort of all follow along here in the next expance of break time. I get the opportunity to bounce around a lot over break so it will be a sporadic bit of posting at best anyways.


The magic book then. . . yes it is real. So some tidbits about where the words all go after they come from my head.

I got the magic book as a Christmas present sometime before Christmas last year which makes it about a year old as far as I am concerned. It's made of all renewable resources by women up in the mountains of Nepal and yes it is fair trade. I was obsessed with the notebooks when I found them in a little shop and a little birdy passed the information along to the gift giver. The pages are good and thick and hearty and I have been told that the outside is covered in rice paper.

The first few lines appeared in it on 1/21/05 in green ink. I have used black, blue, green, red, pink, and maroon pens for my scribblings. I refuse to write with a pencil and I dont use ball points either. Most of the words are in green but I think my favorite pen I have used just might be the water/acid/alcohol/bomb proof pen that I used to use on my field notebook though I am very much a fan of the one Dad gave me at Thanksgiving.

My plan from the begining was to only write on the fronts of the pages and then turn around and work backwards. At this point I am about three quarters of the way through the frontward direction so depending on my propensity towards verbosity I think it should last me at least another year. The cover is starting to show some wear though, especially in the corners and where some of the rice paper was thin and the binding keeps yelling at me for marking my place with a pen and then shutting the book too hard.

The magic book of colors is somewhat of a staple item on any type of trip. It has been to multiple states along the east coast from FL to NH and it will make a midwesternly type voyage in a few days. It has also checked off Haiti, Honduras, and Peru not to mention me scribbling in it in the airport in the Bahamas while we refueled. It has almost been dropped several times into unfortunate death-to-paper places like the Rio Las Piedras. There are flowers pressed in it from the first 3 countries and a few extra snippets that got tucked into the book for safe keeping (Like a copy of the Nicene Creed, my every growing list of words I favor, a Salvavida wrapper and some poem about a chick that usta was from PA)

It gets stuffed full of poetry, prose, single or double lines (which are not developed enought to count as either) and rants (which can take the form of all three but are not refinable and therefor count as none), and when I feel so inclined I pull something out to share. I have only ripped 3 pages out ever. I was morally opposed to it then and I am even more so opposed to in now as a lonely leftover page keeps trying to escape to find its missing half. One page became a letter to a friend in Haiti and two contained scribbles to a pirate of the freshwater sort, the second page created to replace the first which died in a horrible boating mishap that included jumping in the river to unstick the boat and almost loosing the magic book to the electric eels and catfishes.

Two was my maximum number of scribbled on pages in one sitting before this weekend. Six will be hard to beat.

When It Is Tomorrow Again
(A makeshift basement concert hall 12/17/05)

Sometime in these steps
There will be a tomorrow again
If I walk beyond these tired white walls
To a place without imaginary friends
Can the flowers be ever-growing
If I move through this space in time
Tell me which road will carry me there
To Oz, or to Heaven, or to the sublime

-Jn

Did I mention I was home...Oh yeah and Virgil I don't think I am your mother but stranger things have happened. :)

mmm Crack house

So I will admit it, I am easily sucked in to internet quizzes. According to the mother I have to post this one just because it is funny. I don't agree...but I am a sketch ball.

Rowhouse 'Hood You scored 19 out of 40 on urban-rural and 25 out of 40 land intensity.

People know you as: The Bohemian Gentrifier Quote: "That crack house just needed a little paint." Your score indicates that you are a city-dweller of the old-school. You like a dense, finely grained neighborhood with restaurants, churches and brothels all on the same block. Although you've never spoken to him personally, you know that guy Eddie down the street is a pimp and you're sure to tell your lame suburban friends about him at every opportunity, just to freak them out. The bad news is that as more and more people like you move into your neighborhood it gradually becomes less cool and more expensive. Enjoy things while you can, because in 5 years you're going to have to move to the next 'hood uptown. Examples of places you should live: Baltimore, Philadelphia All Categories Secluded Hideaway / Farm or Ranch / Small Town / Little City / Suburb / Streetcar Suburb / Rowhouse 'Hood / Downtown Loft

Link: The Where Should You Live Test written by TwelveFloorsUp on Ok Cupid, home of the 32-Type Dating Test

This is your brain on finals

What do I have for you? A lot of dead air. I am scrounging for thought provoking things to write for you and i've got lots but before they reach a point the fizzle and die. Like a half bottle rocket. The fuse sounds cool and sparkles but it fizwerps out before the bang.

So let me tell you these things then starting with reading day:
Friday- I worked and wondered why they canceled schools all over the place. Then the skies opened up and I understood...and had to drive home. I wasted copious amounts of time instead of sleeping and when Kt called to go out I said let me just take a nap. When I woke up the skies opened up again and the was only white. Cancell trip cancel life. Somewhere in this time frame I became consumed by part 2 of my theatre project and went braindead to all other things for pretty much the duration until it was done. Saturday we somehow managed to get a group of people together and got almost lost several times in salem and ended up with drinks and some dinner like substances. Then it sort of all of the sudden became Sunday and we went to church and Berg came with us. It appears that Berg is a new addition to our crew as she has come out with us several times (including saturday) and I dont mind at all. She comes by way of 5L. Works for me. I made a good drive up to NH Sunday afternoon with 104 to the airport and got to listen to radio blather about football for a space in time and then I was consumed anew by the aforementioned project. This includes not pausing to eat or study or do other important things. That should be relatively up to date about life I think.

Monday brought working and projecting and ML making us dinner. He needs a better name than just ML so I will here after refer to him as AFM or the Amazing Food Maker because that is what he is. He is the one that made the pie for thanksgiving...yes that pie. And he bacially continued to make food until I went to bed. It made the home all housey or something like that. I was sort of in an I have been consumed by a project for 3 days and havent been eating and the world save like 2 people annoys me mood at this point in life so I utilized my new hardcore build a bookshelf and have a beer bottle opener (Thank you FriendAdam) and pretended I felt better. I didnt kill anyone though.

Tuesday I took stock of my life and realized Oh Shit I have finals in hours. And so I began the study process sometime around 8 when I got to work and finished (mentally) at around 11ish. I hit Oh-My-God-This-Is-Finals-I-Am-Dead mode around 1pm, and hour before my final. And the final consumed me. Processed me thoroughly. Then reconsumed me...its called coprophagy look it up. I finished the theatre project and let it stop ruining my life. And attended the Bio-major christmas party where I actually ate some food. We had a yankee-swap and 3 wonderful parties brought pretty much the same thing. Annies mac n Cheese with some sort of 'meat' in a can. The other 2 brought spam...at least mine was eatable. I was the proud owner of an ostrich egg for about 10 minutes and ultimately ended up with annies and goya spam...not even the real stuff. I came home to a psychotically immaculate house and almsot crapped my pants. I proceded to consume whatever grey sludge Eric had given me for because I do not eat anymore and locked myself in my room. (By the way the sludge was AMAZING.) Round 2 I finished my theatre project and let it stop ruining my life then i studied for Physics.

Somehow it became wednesday and I had heavy books on my body and then somehow (probably by the same strange powers) I was in BCA taking an exam that I had the mental power to pass with few unhappy red marks and handing it in way before the final period was over. I wandered myself to Emery to last minute cram for Physics. Round 3 I finished my Theatre project and let it stop ruining my life. When I got done trying to fit all of the information in the world on a note card I was at peak stress level and shaking. Then I was taking the test and being slowly devoured mentally such that at various times during the exam I would stop whatever I was doing and turn the page. This was less than helpful and I did not get done in a timely manner. When I was thoroughly chewed and spat back out free and clear from finals I ended up here and DPS and it appears that I am working. The normal mic died and CECS dialing 911 to try to call out of country and the chief is wicked perky...yes..perky. My semester will be over in about an hour when I determine the status of my incomplete in Physics, get a few papers signed, and Round 4 finish my theatre project so it can stop ruining my life.

Tonight features house dinner (which means I will eat) and perchance a visit with campus types and a drive round with 104 and some packing. It will NOT feature round 5. I am done. I swear to you. And sometime tomorrow I drive to CT which is the only thing that indicates to me that there is life outside of this mindless finals ush. It will feature Arox!, EWal, FriendAdam, et. al. and it has no choice but to be amazing.

You came here for deep thoughts. You end up with mental unth instead. I appologize. When I have sleep and maybe some food I will try again. -Jn

Home of the Twin Lobster

This is for 5L and I bet she doesn't even know why.
Just one more task accomplished on my Finals list of things to do.

Something like words

We (as a collective of the people I frequent including myself) talk a lot about words. I don't know if this is standard in the populace but I don't imagine that it is. Perhaps I am just vain. Myself, I enjoy words. I would consume them alone if they provided my daily recommended calories or marry them if they provided the appropriate tax/tuition/chapel credit breaks. (That statement is more than a little ridiculous and I apologize.) Lately we (the collective of the people who live in the same house as myself including myself) have been discussing the ways Jn phrases things. (Did you know that in english the word Phrase has no F? It shocks me every time. I prefer the frase variety of the word-> fra-say) Let me provide you with an example.

(Let me pause for a moment to think up an appropriate example. I will provide you with some background musica while you wait. Dee deet dee deedeedee Bomp (this would be the tune of the mario brothers for those of you who do not live with me))

Ok as the only real life example I can think of comes from the life of 5L I am going to borrow it. (We share a good deal of life experiences anyways) One of 5L's professors has this idea in her head that 5L is strange/weird for any number of reasons in this case because 5L forgot her lunch and so ate 2 portions of the food provided in the last class session. 5L recounted this story for me and the frase of response was "Pilar is not wrong." Now this is interesting because I use the frase a lot "___ isn't wrong" but I rarely ever use the frase "___ is right" and these mean entirely different things. "You are right" signifies that you are in fact completely correct both in the way you stated the comment or the idea and also in the mental processes that helped you formulate the idea. So Pilar is not wrong because 5L is wierd (we share about the same weirdness quotient but it leaps out in different areas of life), but her taking 2 portions of food does not make her so. This only makes her a college student. Therefore Pilar is not right.

Now this may seem like an easy distinction to make, 2 frases that mean similar but not the same things used in particular ways when they deserve to be. The problem crops up with it hits my subliminal brain filter and gets some scatter. You will almost never hear me say "You were right" even when it is deserved. I may validate you with a you weren't wrong but that is about as far as you get. Especially when it refers to an discussion we were having. Especially especially when you being write either strongly implies or firmly states that I in fact was wrong. That is one of those painful things to admit and while I feel as though I am good at it I think my subliminal consciosness works against that. However, if you do receive a "You're not wrong' from me dont automatically think that means that "You are right." I promise you that most of the time you aren't. I'm not either.

Also to be commented on in this post about words. Jn is working towards a 5L pronunciation of so many things she says especially abreviation words like TV, ATM, and VCR and this is not on purpose or entirely welcome. This does not actually change my practice of shortening words to their lowest pronouncible amount of letters and/or pronoucing abreviations as if they are real words. (DPS = Dippus (NOT EVER EVER EVER Go-Po))

And another note... Lots of things dissolve around finals time. This includes but is not limited to sentence structure, dishwashing, and people skills. Somewhere wrapped up in all of this, foul language rises to the surface and is spewed out exponentially proportional to the level of stress. (This might be one of the laws of physics. I don't know I have not studied yet.) Before the madness kicked in full swing we had a chat between housemates and appologized in advance for the dissolvation of the happy attributes we usually shine and for those unhappy underlyers that come out when things get dark. However, there are always some things that do not float well even when you have been excused ahead of time. There are some words that just have a characteristic bite to them and even if you know they are coming it doesnt exactly help. Therefore I have been taught some new spanish frases because when one has to think about what one is hearing it eases the sting a bit. Our house seems to be functioning rather well right now so this whole idea must have worked.

Time for breakfast- Jn

(Expect a blog in the near future about appearance. It will come out of my head one way or another. I just hope it is coherant enough thoughts to be blog-worthy)

a selection

of two from e e cummings because i can no longer convey my meaning in proper english when the world gets this complex and no one questioned him and he seems to suit my mood


up into the silence the green
silence with a white earth in it
you will(kiss me)go
out into the morning the young
morning with a warm world in it
(kiss me)you will go
on into the sunlight the fine
sunlight with a firm day in it
you will go(kiss me
down into your memory and
a memory and memory
i)kiss me,(will go)


who knows if the moon's
a balloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky--filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should
get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their balloon,
why then
we'd go up higher with all the pretty people
than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody's ever visited,where
always
it's
Spring)and everyone's
in love and flowers pick themselves

there is a reality in this fake world i live
(i live (( i live!)) i die)
and you are by my side
and one is naked) I (or) you(
and these things that we have done
‘these things that we do’
these things are the things that the Stillness brings
in this peace in this dark together (apart)
and you touch me… or was it? i-you
and the genuine fades with the light in to new
and this dark is consuming all essence of you
((of you) of you (of me))
and -this ‘us’ is- all that i see
the one that i want( the one that wants me) in this world is all
is this such a fall
for me to live ((to live!)(to die)) life alive?

-Jn 12/05/05

P E A C E P E A C E P E A C E P E A C E P E A C E P E A C E

 

Did I mention that my cat died? Thats right my surly 19 year old three-legged cat finally died. Damn thing out lived every other animal I have ever owned. I don't exactly know what to think. I have no more childhood pets. It's weird. 

While the cat tries to strangle me

This is sort of that weird interlude between breaks. There is a longish weekend centered around stuffing ones body with L-Tryptophan and getting lots and lots of sleep. Then you somehow end up back at campus for a week and a half of classes and finals. Conveniently this is when all manner of tests, papers, and projects happen on top of regularly scheduled homework. Oh yeah and there are events like choir concerts and winter balls to make things even more stressful.

Last night I got less sleep than I have gotten all year and I still didn't manage to get half of my work done by the time it was due. I also forgot about dinner and missed a talk i wanted to go to because i was being fangoriously devoured by a gelatinous theatre project.

Did I mention that I have no housemates. That is right. I live alone and fairies pay the other bits of my rent. I have seen Lz maybe twice since like last sunday. She left monday night for break and came back late monday and campus has eaten her. Me and 5l had dinner together Monday and I randomly see her running to and from things but thats pretty much it. It will be like this until after the Gala but when the Gala is over I will have several projects to work on and will probably start sleeping in Emery, then magically it will be finals time and we will leave for Christmas break.

A house isnt the same without people in it. I think that is the moral of the story. Now I am off to research frogs and find pretty pictures.

Shampoo...who knew?

For all of you who figured the great game was over, I feel the need to clarify, specify, notify and addify...

I haven't washed my hair in over 7 weeks now. Some people had this idea in their heads that this was a game of duration 6 weeks and at the 6 week point game equaled over. They clearly misunderstood the purpose of my experiment. The IDEA (which for some reason needs capital letters) was to not wash my hair for 6 weeks and see what happened. If I looked like some sort of caffeteria mop after 6 weeks I would consider the whole shampoo thing again with a new sense of respect. However, if the hypothesis held water then for what reasons would I again subject myself to the social construct known as shampoo. Clearly it seems foolish to readdict myself to a comercialized product when it was not needed in the first place.

It turns out that after 6 weeks I was still mildly greasy but upon completion of week 7 I discovered pantien pro-v quality hair without that silly shampoo. All for the price of wearing hats for 6 weeks...which I would have done anyways as I like hats and dont like cold ears.

However, my partner in crime is not having the same results. She is done on wednesday and according to her she fully intends to wash her hair that day. I can't blame her. She held out and played the game with me just for ja-ja's. I think I will give her my shampoo for a consolation prize.

I guess then the reasults are inconclusive because we have one with amazing results and one with not so much. Therefore I motion that we institute a more broad scale experiment and yall play the game and let me know what happens and the world will be a better place. Let me know if you want to play.

On an unrelated note the past 2 days I have had really BAD coffee. I think I need to clean out the maker or something but I dont really know. Anyone have coffee fixing advice?

Me and my house sort of have adverse feelings about the talking box. It is good for the occasional movie or mindless game or DDR but that is really about it. 5l watches this show that doesnt use it's given name and I pay homage to the gods of football on Sundays and the occasional monday night but thats about it. A lot of people find this hard to believe. I find it hard to believe a lot of people who make it their occupation to know what the talking box wants them to think. Or something like that. Anyways I say all this to say that we are making our fridge comercial. By we I mean me and 5l watching me be ridiculous. All the little icon figures that come off of boxes or lables get cut out and plastered to the eating box. My favorite I think is the shiny woman holding a watermellon with the spanish word for watermellon scrawled beneath her- she came on a spagetti squash. (This would be known as a diversion- We made spagetti squash last night. I have not had so much fun eating in a long time. I highly recomend the gourd if you happen upon one. You have to trust me here its well worth the whatever cents a pound it is. Give your mouth a distraction once and a while its good for it) I have discovered that one of the problems with the happy lable game is that most of our food is either too store brand or too crunchy granola to seek to entertain us. Pretty much all of my food comes in happy white boxes maybe with some grass or flowers or whole grains sprinked on ever so simply just so they can show you how pure and good it is for you. Otherwise it has the word Shawrs scribbled on it with maybe a bowl of peas. And peacans go on the front porch. They even get a song. (On a slightly related note I went shopping before I came home and the RQM got me some stuff just so i wouldnt starve. Now I am the proud keeper of 13 cans of tuna and about 9 cans of peas minus the half can in the eating box- and no peacans are not stored on the front porch they only go out there when more or less empty)

This started out with a point and has since devolved. That means I can degenerate further into pointless lists.

Things that amuse me today at work:
1. 104 is working the day shift which means he amuses me all day (it is cloudy so he can come out during the day)
2. there is a 'large male deer on campus-you know the kind with the horns' which apparently bothers people. Its like they dont know we live next to the woods or something. At least one of the other callers refered to it as a 6 point buck- someone knows what is important.
3. They are here to clean the cameras today which means lots of closeups of the hairs in this guys nose. Classic...and recorded. And his boss has red hair and mutton chops. Excelent
4. The worlds biggest yuppy just drove on to campus. Dude he looked pristine. Perfectly white teeth and plucked eyebrows and an off white magnum sparkly clean with one of those phone ear pieces. I was like 'look man dont come to close our your comercialism might wear off on me I dont wash my hair'
5. Edible arrangements popped in with a yuppy birthday present for the dean of new students and token students.
6. My favorite regular caller is graduating for real this time in December
7. One of the wonderful RA's STILL has not registered his car and is now on probation. Way to be a leader
8. It smells like spring outside.
9. The piano tuner lady was wicked perky today for no apparent reason
10. The truck with the cracked egg on the front-with sunglasses
11. My name is still on Dispatch Info board with hearts and flowers- I didn't write it though.
12. A Cascadia Farms granola bar (part of my lunch- a NEW addition!) pretty much every ingredient says organic. I dont know why they cant lump them or something to save space but oh well. But at any rate they are really really good. They are one of those white box products.

That is all you get cause I am now bored enough to start homework.

-Jn

Beads in her hair
And beats in her head
Flowers spring up
Wherever she treads

On muses

There ae 2 muses at home. They are lazy little buggers and they call and all around to follow suit. So there was travel and there was food and there was family followed by friends and all the makings of some sort of love song gone wrong but as much as the muses whined there was no inspiration. I had to drive through the night to shuck them off behind me and when the sun was on it's way upwards I found words strewen across the highway like some god awful wreck just waiting to be pieced back together and me without a pen. . . someone by me a tape recorder for Christmas. . . words decompose far too quickly in my head anymore.

Back Pocket Poet0-Jn

Let us be lovers we'll marry our fortunes together

Shine all night (11/27/05 I-80 east)

Maybe you thought it was you that was choosin my comin and my takin leave
But I promise you this time baby, when I walk out that door it's cause of me
See that there road is open wider than your arms will ever be
And there's bluer than your eyes when the sun shines on the sea

And if the sun can shine in the morning then I can shine at night
But if you can't catch a falling star you don't deserve to hold this light

Cause I'm chasing fallen wishes and making old wrongs right

Running headlong far to fast but at least I'll burn out bright

-Jn

A Jump Start

I am supposed to be writing a paper that is due at 1130. This will hopefully easy me into that happy writing process. I like my topic and I have tons of research but that is partly the problem. I have so much to say and so many ways to say it that i end up making circles instead of doing that forward motion thing.

So to update yall on life and love and general interest stories. . .

I am in love with sancho panza- he is the rodent that lives under the fun room at our house. We don't know what flavor of rodent he is but he chews on the house at night.

Lz and I went on a hot date to see Oliver at HW highschool. We got comp tickets which was nice of the bf. She went only to watch him in the orcheststra and I went only to check out the stage/props/costumes. It was a good show inspite of us.

Saturday we had the big t-giving party at the house. A lot of people came and it was madly successful. We also have tons AND TONS of left over food (and some left over booze tambien also) It was a gooed enough party that the three hostesses all passed out at somepoint on Sunday because we could not stay awake any longer.

Sunday marked 6 weeks for the great hair experiment. I don't really know what to tell you. My hair isnt that pantien pro-v comercial grade hair any more but then again it is not all dry and gross either and the grease factor went down considerably. In general I like it a lot and it makes a good story. I tend to enjoy getting wierd looks. I think I will keep it. So to summarize hair experiement 1 was dying it when I went home for the football game, and experiment 2 was the no shampoo challenge. I am working on what comes next. I am thinking its finally time for the blue. SW! was all about doing it for me as she has experience, which might mean waiting till after I get back from home. Who knows. I dont know what comes after that. Dreds maybe? Eventually one does run out of things to do with ones hair that dont involve cutting it. I can't give it another good chop for at least a year if I plan to donate it again. Of course that rules out dreds for a whole year too. Sigh. I might have to pierce something instead. I suppose I should get through the next experiment before I go on worrying about the next on though. Don't worry I will make sure I post so you can continue to live vicariously through me.

One final note. I am headed south on Tuesday evening and driving through the wee hours to get home with my partner in crime shuff-dog. My current plan is to stay up later than normal this evening (I dont actually think I can do it) and sleep for the majority of the day on Tuesday as I have no classes. Hopefully this will translate into an uneventful drive with one or two stretch/obtain fuel breaks but no long term sleeping events. And as traveling gets me in a good thinking sort of mood you can forsee poetry on the horizon. Mmmmm.

Pancho I love you- Jn

A milestone of sorts

I am currently munching on TLC. That would be Tasty Little Crackers made by Kashi. This means they are crunchy in more ways than one and on the whole they are an ok breakfast. And yes they really are called TLC- It says so on the box.

It is only 730 and I have already had an exciting morning. Actually before 4 am it was an exciting morning. See I was crusing down Miles River road NOT late for work thinking to myself Jenn you are driving way to fast for this curvy crazy road and someday you are gonna die on it. Right about when I decide to slow down a car passes me. I think to myself sh*t that is gonna be a cop. So I make a full and complete stop at the stop sign and procede on then next street at the posted speed. I wasnt wrong. He turned around and caught up to me (cause at this point I was barely moving) blue lights a blazing. Good Jenn good. And this is in Hamilton too which is worse because 104 will know and I wont hear the end of it. For a fleeting instant I thought just maybe it was 104 but it definately wasn't. He runs the plate runs the liscence and inquires as to what on earth I am doing out so late and where I live if not at the college then sends me on my way by saying "just slow down a little ok?" So I scoot myself to campus and pass the Wenham cop on Rubbly going less than the limit and I'm thinking look he is gonna get me too. Gah. But he wasnt interested in a slow car and I got myself safely tucked in to campus and in to RRC where they were awaiting my arrival. Come to find out that someone up there likes me a lot (and he has a Nextel). See it pays to work for DPS. It also pays to not put your foot on the gas peddle to hop over the town line (which just might have crossed my mind for a fleeting instant) because the Wenham Cop will be waiting right there for you. It also might pay to drive the speed limit. Me and Catsby will have a talk about that later today. For now she is just pouting in the Chapel Lot. Then (I swear just for kicks) they run my car again and I hear it over the scanner at work. Now thats not fair hearing about yourself over the scanner like that when you are working and not even doing anything wrong anymore.

I am ok with this for 2 reasons (3 if you count that nothing happened). 1 I am now much more likely to drive slower especially on Miles River where I swear I am going to hit a patch of ice on that curve (you know the one) careen off into the trees and die this winter. 2 apparently there are some sketchy kids from Lynn (Lynn, Lynn the city of sin) running around the north shore breaking in to cars and stealing stuff then snagging a 'free' ride home. So him stopping me was part for speed and part to make sure it was my car. As I said before I am ok with that.

Now begins my monday as my relief is just about ot walk in the door - Jn

Things that make me ill

1. Mildew- I got to work in cave like conditions scrubbing mildew off the bottoms of the theater seats because someone decided storing them outside under a tarp was a good idea. I was fine for the first hour or so but eventually the little beasties and the bleach made it through the face mask and in to my system. I scrubbed as hard as I could when I got home but I still felt like they were crawling all over me (cause mildew crawls apparently). I even almost washed my hair.

2. Water in Ispinach- So they tell us anyways. Of course the little town notification system doesnt work for us for some reason so I had to visit my local Zumi's to play backgammon with the other Jn and hear local chit-chat to figure this out. The story goes along the lines of some idiot busted a pipe at the water cleanin plant and a bunch of extra potasium hydroxide got spewed into our water. Wicked basic- drink it and your skin melts off- something like that anyways. So we arent allowed to do anything but flush and we are told to flush often. Good thing we thought to warn the LL cause she had no clue either.

3. Today is veterans day- Now before you destroy me let me explain the actual illness. No one knows this. I didnt know until I came to work and 104 drilled me. We have class today and while a day off of school is perhas a shtty reason to remember a holiday at least then you thinkg about it for a few minutes. But no- Business as usual. No one knows. No one cares. If they did know they would probably protest war or something. People at my school have no respect for authority and not sense of community or respect for it. I mean hell you might not think war is such a great idea but for God's sake at least respect people for standing up for what they believe in. Can't you at least respect someone even if you think they are wrong. Sometimes when Fr. Lias gives the benediction he includes the phrase 'Honor all persons' Thats right even the idiots. They are still people after all and made in the image of God. I am getting off topic but the point still remains. It is veterans day and no one knows about it.

4. godhatesfags,com- Words cannot describe to you how angry the 'gospel' this site preaches makes me. My organs begin to decompose when I think about it. 104 found it this morning because they picketted the funeral of a kid from his alma matter who was killed in Iraq. According to the site God hates people in the service people who live(d) in Lousianna, people from sweden, and any number of other things. (those are all I can think of off the top of my head and i do not intend to swing by that website again) Need we wonder why people hate Christians? God does not hate people. He may hate actions but NOT people. (see above) And I am pretty sure he is not really amused when people twist scripture all around to suit their purposes. (He will still love them just maybe not what they are doing) Love people. Hate actions. BUT LOVE PEOPLE.

I am gonna end with this cause this was pretty much all I could think of when I was looking at the site...

Luke 6:27-38 But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you. If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them. And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' do that. And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' lend to 'sinners,' expecting to be repaid in full. But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

I also like the way this comes out in Matthew 5 so you get that too (43-47) You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

It goes round...and round

5 things I plan to do before I die.

1. Visit all continents and play in all oceans. (2 continents and 2 oceans...I have work to do)
2. Publish a real paper in a real journal
3. Run away to the rainforest
4. Own a house (or whatever the culture I am living in calls a house)
5. Get through grad school

5 things I can do.

1. Poetry
2. Make kick ass 'Cosas' (house recipe- includes apples and chicken and whatever else ends up in the pan)
3. Read people
4. Play hostess (The RQ taught me well, the late, Great Grandma Goldie taught her well)
5. Get up at crazy hours for work without a problem

5 thing I can't do.

1. Focus
2. Speak in English (or any other language)
3. Produce adrenaline
4. Tolerate stupidity
5. Get through a school day without some great error (late for class, forget about class, forget the homework, forget about a testm etc.)

5 things I say.

1. Damn (it is really an all purpose word)
2. Varieties of the word Urinate (as in I am Urinated right now, or I have to find a Urination station)
3. Woof (a word for describing the ineffible)
4. Stellar (and everyone I know says it now)
5. Any number of random song fragments, quote board quotes or movie lines that get stuck in mine and my housemates heads daily. (eg It's cheese that makes the world go round, I smell bacon in the air, not the pleasant mother pheasant plucker, explodingo...)

5 things that attract me to the opposite sex

1. Plays in other countries
2. Plays in other languages
3. Plays outside
4. Plays music
5. Plays with cars and power tools

stickers stickers stickers

Elephant in the rain (11/07/05- Ipswich)

The saddest dream
You've ever seen
An elephant in the rain
He circles again
And the slickered children
Wait their turn
And reach out as he goes by
This great gray beast
Reduced to chasing hay
Does he make you wonder
Does he make you cry
Can you touch the empty
When he passes by


-Jn

An essence of goodness

So the way my life works lately when I come home it is exciting if I can say well at least it wasnt a bad day. (By the way the day is more or less considered over when I pull in the drive way even if it is like 1pm. Yeah, bad things and stress happen here but it is mostly safe from the things that beat me up.) If nothing else it just means that right now I dont take goodness for granted. Anything positive needs to be grasped and magnified if at all possible because the plusses are few and far between.

Friday I did not get all of my homework done before it was due because I confused my schedule but I did make it to all of my classes. I got to play in the shop for a good long time and build which is great because 1. it requires thinking but I can still do it well right now 2. my prof tursts me enough with everything to give me basic instruction and say go then she goes nuts over whatever I make because I have a high quality control in my work and she doesnt have to rebuild everythign I do 3. I get to play with power tools. I played with the (now) indoor kite eating tree for a while, climbed into the heights of the black box, and built a happy little table to go with my happy little benches. Oh yeah and I painted turkey butts brown too. Then I got a space of time all to myself in the house to unwind before friends came over. SW!, E and I just sat around and had a drink and talked for ages. It is so nice to know that Gordon kids to not have to get plastered any time there is alcohol around (seems like most do) and also that I have good, thinking friends.

Today it was nice enough to open windows. Kt came over in the afternoon to do homework and homework actually got done. We went into Ispinach to get dinner and walked around for a bit. We got duck (which amuses me to no end) at the Thia place and hit up Zumi's (aka the best coffee shop ever). I decided I love Ispinach and I need to play in town more and maybe live here forever. Sept I also need to live in Peru for forever so I have to negociate how to make that work. I am working on it. Basically it has been a wicked chill weekend with a disproportionate amount of goodness compared to the last few weeks and I am still getting things done. Tomorrow is the All Saints Day service at church and SW! is getting poured on for which I am excited and if I can swing it I will go to the All Souls service tomorrow night before I go to work. Here's hoping.

Maybe the creative juices are flowing tonight with the duck digestive juices. Hmmm...

-Jn