Saturday, December 19, 2009


Zach wanted to take TLG* to Newport to show her around and Katie and Julie and I decided to help him (we didn't want him to miss anything). Unfortunately this meant that by the time everyone was able to go it was dark and thus cold(er). But we managed to have fun anyway.

*Zach's girlfriend Christy's blog pseudonym shall henceforth be The Lovely Girlfriend. Because, quite simply, she is.

We tried on hats in the Army/Navy store.

We did some shopping and drove past some of the mansions.

Then we needed a pee break and decided to crash an upscale hotel/former mansion in the middle of a swanky party they were hosting. We got some strange looks from the dressed-up partygoers but managed not giggle OR take pictures of the fancy-schmancy bathroom until they were gone.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

I AM the Law 'Round These Parts, Mister

I'm staying with my sister, Lib and her family. They live as far from anywhere as you can get without leaving Rhode Island. My niece and nephew are criminally cute. Or possibly just criminal...

I've fallen somewhat in Luke's estimation because I really suck at Lego Indian Jones, his favorite Wii game, but he still climbed into bed and snuggled with me the first morning I was here. Bailey doesn't remember me but after a day or two of hugging mommy's leg and shouting "No!" at me every time I entered the room, she's warmed up and gives me voluntary kisses and hugs.

Today I went to my friend Amanda's house. I've known Amanda since we were roughly 11 years of age. She made me eat two cookies and a cinnamon roll/apple pie concoction that she whipped up on the spot. I protested (you know, gentle readers, that I normally shun such rich fare and prefer a tasty vegetable dish over a cookie any day) but she insisted and I didn't want to be rude so I ate it all and pretended to like it. The burdens this friendship puts on me, people.

Sunday, December 13, 2009


I have been needing to write. Composing words in my head. Half-writing posts and then getting pulled back into the craziness of the last weeks before the holidays and a long trip home. I feel good. A little time and distance and a chemically balanced brain have made me feel like a different person. I've felt better in the last few weeks than I have in months.

Now I'm home in RI. It's cold and there is snow on the ground and I'm immersed in the conflicting mix of emotions that being with my family brings. It took about 20 minutes for the first remark that made me wish I was back in California. I have made a life for myself there with people who I can be real and honest with. I've fought to shed the armor I needed growing up here, but when I come home I find that that means I am vulnerable. There are few things I hate more than that.

I'm constantly reminded of the fact that I am alone. My four nearest siblings are all married or in relationships. I keep thinking about Daniel in the middle of the night. I don't know why. He was supposed to have been here, that was the plan. I don't want to be with him. But I keep thinking anyway...

I can't sleep and I've chewed a hole in my lower lip, but this morning a little boy climbed into bed and snuggled with me and that helped. The last time I snuggled with him there were still traces of babyhood, not now. He's a boy now; all long legs and missing tooth and going to school. He tried to teach me how to play Lego Indiana Jones but I am a failure at video games.

My niece is still not sure about me. In her world there are a few good people- Mommy, Daddy, grandparents, the familiar aunties- and the rest are potentially scary. But she's warming up. Tonight she came over and gave me a hug and a kiss and I didn't even have to bribe her. I got to see my brother's sons for a little while before their mother decided on a whim to move out of state on a few hours notice and showed up to take them away. I'm not sure if I'll be able to see them again before I leave. We're never sure of anything where my brother's ex is concerned.

I want to go home. I want to be here but still be able to go home and sleep in my own bed at night. I want... I don't know what I want.

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Happy pills: Day 5

I can breathe again. Thank you.

Monday, November 30, 2009


I am sure you are tired of this. I'm tired of it too. It's all I've got right now.

There is nothing wrong with taking a drug that keeps you from wanting to kill yourself.

I need to be on antidepressants; this does not make me weak. Or maybe it does, perhaps it's okay not to be strong.

Why do I struggle with this so much?

Daniel didn't exactly approve of anti-depressants. He never told me not to take them but he approved and encouraged me when I decided to wean myself off of Prozac. In one of the last conversations we had, post break-up, he asked if I'd started taking them again. When I admitted that I'd taken just one small dosage the day before, after a day of dry-heaving sobs that I wasn't sure I could manage a repeat of, he expressed dismay. He said it was only because he know how hard a time I'd had getting off of them but I heard disapproval in his voice. Whether it was really there or only in my imagination I immediately stopped thinking about the possibility of going back on the drugs. He was right, I'd had months of side effects (even though I never had any while I was actually taking the damn things) even though I decreased the dosage incredibly slowly. It would be ridiculous to start back up only a few months later.

Why on earth would I let myself be affected by the opinion of someone who I know all too well hasn't figured out how to handle his own emotions or deal with his own issues?

Still I keep arguing with myself: this is circumstantial, you know why you're sad. It's painful when a relationship ends, but it happens all the time and you should be able to get through it. My rationale seems to be that it's not true depression if there's a reason behind the despair. But for me it's always circumstantial. My bouts of depression are triggered when life knocks me down and I can't seem to pick myself up again. So it makes sense that now would be a reasonable time for me to call the doctor and ask her for a prescription again. Except for the small cold voice that whispers in the back of my mind, "I don't want hope. I don't want to keep trying. It only leads to more pain. I just want an end to it."

Sunday, November 29, 2009


I was not doing so well last week. A kind and perceptive friend dragged me home Wednesday night to her family's house in Sacramento. My head started to hurt on the way there. A 15 hour migraine had me pacing the floor and vomiting all that night. By Thanksgiving I was so worn out and grateful to be past the worst of the physical pain that I didn't have much room left over to feel much else. Unfortunately, the numbness wore off. I'm not doing so well again.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Shuffle Off

Yesterday was bad. Everyday is bad but yesterday was especially bad. I don't know why. I am getting worse, not better. I don't know how to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And I don't want to keep trying. I don't want to be here anymore.

I can't convince myself that this will ever stop hurting, or if it matters, since every time I get back on my feet it's only to be knocked down again, harder than the last time. That my life will ever get to a place where I'm doing more than just hanging on until the next disaster hits. Because in some ways it feels like that's what I've been doing for the last four years. I'm hanging on by my fingernails and hoping that the next tremor won't shake me loose and that's not to say that there haven't been good things or joy; there have, but fear and uncertainty and sadness are always lurking in the background. I need to know that there will be a place where I can just rest, but I'm all out of hope.

I'm angry at God. I don't feel like He's listening. I don't feel like He cares.

I don't want to be here anymore.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

My Favorite Quote of the Day

"I've come to the conclusion that the media isn't out to change our minds politically or brainwash us into some Orwellian fog of compliance. I think there are definitely some outlets that are more biased than others. Fox leans to the right. We know this. MSNBC leans just as strongly the opposite way. We know this too. CNN just leans which ever way Larry King's suspenders pull it. So, fine, some have an agenda but I'm not cynical enough to think that the mainstream media is actually trying to brainwash us or change our minds. No, they're just out to make a buck. And they'll pretty much whore themselves to the highest bidder for the almighty dollar." -Chris at Rude Cactus

I especially like the part about Larry King's suspenders.

Sunday, November 15, 2009


Nothing too fascinating to report here. I don't feel up to being witty.

I'm still sad. I still cry a lot, frequently in unexpected and embarrassing situations. I'm kind of a bummer to be around at the moment, but luckily my friends still put up with me. Zach's a pretty awesome brother to have around. I've decided that- should ever have any desire to date again- future suitors will have to get the Zach seal of approval. I should listen to him more often.

I'm volunteering with the jr. high group at my church. Today was my first day. It was kinda terrifying. I felt a little like I was in jr. high again only this time I was taller (that is to say, there are a few 6th graders there who are still shorter than me). I can't wait for the first time a parent mistakes me for one of the kids.

My most faithful blog reader and dear friend Lisa is coming to visit this week. I plan to reminisce about how she used to have to lock herself in her bedroom as soon as she got home from work when we were roommates to prevent me from attacking her with a verbal torrent of, "OHMYGOSHIHAVEN'TSEENANOTHERGROWNUPALLDAYLETSTALKANDTALKANDTALK!!!!!!!"
I plan to threaten her with the sleeping in the loft of death (tm) if she gets out of hand, but as I remember, she's pretty well behaved. Seriously, Lisa, if you still have an internet connection: I can't wait to see you!!!

I'm going home for Christmas, which will be good. Thanksgiving, I wish I could just skip, but I'm thinking about working for extra money (I know, who hires a nanny on Thanksgiving, right? But according to the accursed nanny agency there's good money to be made. Only in Silicon Valley, friends). It's not that I don't have kind friends who've invited me to their Thanksgiving celebrations, I just don't know if I can deal with celebrations.

I'm reading a long biography of the James family. Plus finishing up rereading the Narnia chronicles. I feel an urgent need to get to the library today before it closes because I only have one book left to read!!! Clearly this is an emergency.

So that's it. I'm trying not to get sucked under. I'm trying to remember that I don't have the right to give up hope. I'm trying to believe that all things work together for the good of those who love Him. And I'm telling myself that just because I'm in the same place I was at the beginning of this year doesn't mean that I'm doomed to keep repeating my own damned history. Sometimes that's easier to believe than others.

Monday, November 9, 2009

And Now For Something Completely Different

I found this wonderful short story and I had to share it with you.

It will take you ten minutes to read and I promise it will brighten your day. Enjoy!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

"Yes, you will!" persisted Jo. "You'll get over this after a while, and find some lovely accomplished girl, who will adore you, and make a fine mistress for your fine house. I shouldn't... we should quarrel--we can't help it even now, you see--and I shouldn't like elegant society and you would, and you'd hate my scribbling, and I couldn't get on without it, and we should be unhappy, and wish we hadn't done it, and everything would be horrid!" - Little Women

I always hated Jo for turning Laurie down. I sympathized with his fury and hurt and couldn't understand how she could fail to want him, no matter what the obstacles were. Surely they could have made things work. I don't feel that way anymore. I wish I'd been strong enough to insist that we leave our friendship as it was.

My eyes are swollen. I can't stop crying. I can't find any peace. I sleep and dream about Daniel and I making each other unhappy. I wake up to migraines, relieved that, for the moment, I'm so grateful to be out of the nightmares that I have no doubts about what I'm doing. But in the morning I think about talking to him last night and laughing through my tears and feeling his hand on mine. The intensity of our fights has always been matched by the deep friendship and rapport we reestablish when we make up. He makes me laugh like no one else. I love being with him.

I can't bear this.

I want to go home.

I want to go to my true home, where there are no tears. Where I can see my God face to face and feel His arms around me. Today I don't care about anything but making the pain stop. I know that my suffering is small compared to most things but feels to me like it encompasses the whole world. I don't want to pick myself up and keep trying. I don't have it in me to ever go through this again, but I'm not strong enough to walk through the world alone. I can't remember the last time I felt joy without doubt and fear pulling at the back of my mind.

There's no way out of this that won't shatter my heart into a million pieces. I love him, and I cherish our friendship, and the thought of him being happy with someone else someday makes me want to scream and cry and punch walls and then curl up into a ball and sob. I know that that is what's best for him, but I don't want it to be true.

I'm so tired of having to be strong. I don't want to make the hard decisions. I don't know if I have the strength to walk away if he wants me to stay. I don't know how to let go. But I don't know how to stay when I've heard God telling me clearly that I'm to walk away.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Here is Here

I'm at that point where everything I see reminds me of him, or us. A random phrase evokes an inside joke we shared. His sweatshirt lying in the laundry pile. The dance class we were taking meets tonight. Friends who started dating the same week we did talk about planning a trip for their six-month anniversary.

I want to hear his voice. I want to feel his arms around me again. I want to change my mind, ask him to forget that I told him goodbye and take me back again.

I know it wouldn't last. I know we'd end up back here. I know my heart would end up further bruised and so would his, but there are moments where I just don't care. It's all I can do to keep myself from picking up the phone.

I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of feeling hurt. I'm tired of wondering if what seems to happen so easily for so many people will ever happen for me.

I want to stop caring, how do I do that?

Monday, November 2, 2009

A Few Things to be Thankful For Upon the Demise of My Second Relationship in Less Than a Year*


In spite of the inherent insanity involved in being a woman, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I have wonderful housemates who take care of me and throw me fantastic birthday parties. Sisters of the heart who love me and let me cry on their shoulders when I'm sad. Silly girls who tell awful jokes, and play cheesy movies to distract me, and let me rest my head in their laps while they stroke my hair and tell me that boys are silly anyway, and who needs them? Wild ladies of the night who dare each other to go skinny-dipping in a public pool, and throw crazy breakup parties to cheer me up. Daughters of God who pray for me and with me; who tell me it's going to be all right; who see things for me and in me that I cannot see myself.


My real family is far away but they love me even when I can't be as gracious to them as I should. I have more siblings than any one person really deserves, loving parents, and the cutest niece and nephews anyone's ever seen; plus a whole slew of aunts, uncles, cousins and two precious grandparents. I have a family that I have made for myself here in California. They are my small geographical corner of the family of God, which stretches all over the world. I love them differently than I love my blood family, but no less.


In addition to the women closest to me, I have friends in such varied walks of life that it boggles my mind sometimes. I have friends here and far away. Friends in countries I've never visited. Friends I've never even met in person. Friends I haven't seen for years who I know- if I were lucky enough to see them again- would greet me as if we'd only parted yesterday. I am blessed with people who love me.


I may not know what the future holds, but I know Whose hands I am in and I trust them.

*Just a few days under ten months if you're counting, but why would you want to do that? That would just be depressing, and everyone knows I am never whiny or depressed. Much like the way I would never get up and write a stupid blog post in the middle of the night because I can't sleep and I don't want to think because then I start to get angry about things that don't matter anymore. So, what was I saying? Right- hope.. Please remind me of that in the months to come, should I occasionally forget.

Thursday, October 29, 2009


I've been busy with the usual stuff: working, playing, resting, fighting with Daniel, making up, making out, living life. The D man & I are crazy climbing buddies lately. D took a class and learned how to set anchors (translation: how to do the outdoor ropes stuff) so we've been having outdoor climbing excursions instead of just going to the gym. Sunday we got really adventurous and followed directions in a slightly outdated climbing guidebook to a remote area of a state preserve. By the time we managed to off-trail our way around to the accessible side of the giant rock formation we barely had time to rappel down it before booking it to the car before sunset. Just as well since it turned out the climb was a smooth rock face with few holds and lots of moss. Pretty much beyond even D's impressive climbing skills.

The rappelling was, um what's the word... terrifying. I felt completely confident in Daniel's safety skillz so that wasn't a problem, but the idea of just the two of us out there- knowing that if something did go wrong he'd have to leave me alone in the woods to go for help- that was scary. Also the whole looking over the high cliff and then letting go and trusting the rope & harness to hold me. That was scary too. I wish I had pictures because it would've been a great shot, watching him rappel down the sheer rock face from the angle I was sitting at.

Also, we're taking a Cross-Step Waltz class from Richard Powers, who is apparently a big deal if you know anything about ballroom dancing, which I don't. The class is super fun, although I have to say I don't see competitive waltzing in our future. We're pretty good at laughing at ourselves, which is key in many endeavors as well as generally useful for life.

For my birthday outing adventure Daniel took me, per my request, to this place: California Academy of Science. It was very cool. Tomorrow I'm partying fifties style with a sock hop at my house, poodle skirts and all! If I didn't invite you and you live around here, I just forgot. Unless you're a stalker, in which case I didn't invite you on purpose. But if you're a friend and not a stalker, come to my house at 7 tomorrow night and bring your bobby socks! Daniel will be spiking the punch.

Happy Birthday to Me

It's my birthday and I'll blog if I want to,
blog if I want to,
blog if I want toooooo.
You would blog too if you hadn't blogged in three months and people kept bugging you on Faceboooooook!

Yeah so... I am still alive. And just... haven't felt like blogging, I guess. But my sweet little bro, Zach, and his awesome girlfriend just had their pictures taken by Christy's photographer best friend and they look so stinkin' cute that I couldn't resist sharing them with you. Here's the link. And here.

Tabitha apparently is a pretty talented gal. If you live in the bay area and want some pictures taken, check out her site!

In other news. I am sick. On my birthday. Yep, it is teh suck. But the upside is I'm home from work, lolling around, for two days of what was turning out to be an incredibly stressful and busy week; so it's not all bad. Plus I ate apple pie for lunch. If my food is going to foment rebellion and organize a mutiny as soon as it hits my stomach I might as well enjoy it while it's going down, right?

Thursday, July 30, 2009

I Got A New Haircut

Note: this used to be titled "I Got A New Haircut & My Boyfriend Beats Me" but I changed it because it suddenly didn't seem so funny when half of the google searches that brought people to my blog consisted of "My boyfriend beats me." I'm spoiled for being able to joke about something that's a serious issue for many women. Also it was kind of weird going back & reading posts about past relationships. Todd seconds that opinion. :)

 If you ended up here because your boyfriend beats you and you're looking for help, you'll find more of it at these links. but if you're afraid and don't know who to talk to and need a calm, listening ear, please please feel free to email me. My email address is on the profile page which is linked at the top right corner of this page. 

National Domestic Violence Hotline

Information that might help.

So my friend Kate cut my hair. She did an awesome job but she's still in training so it only cost ten dollars! Woot!!! If you want her to make you look beauteous too go The Academy for Salon Perfeshionals(this is not really the way they spell it) and ask for Kate Sempek. But hurry, soon she'll graduate and get a fancy salon job and then she'll be able to charge you way more.

Here's what it looks like:

That's birthday princess Amy with the tiara and mah dahling Bry on the other side. These gorgeous gals are two of my besties and we've been having an absolutely fabulous time hanging out this summer.

Today I'm rocking the pigtail look. I like the optional bang-i-ness of this haircut, when I get bored I can clip them up out of the way and be bang-less but it's been ages since I've had bangs so I'm having fun with them.

 Soundtrack for today (or- what I happen to be listening to): 

Monday, July 27, 2009

How To Win a Girl In Three(ish) Days

1. Accuse her of wounding your tender feelings by writing mean, mean things about you on her blog and suggest a neutral meeting place to talk about it (oh wait, maybe that was, um, me who suggested meeting in person...).

2. Go for a nighttime walk to talk about how sad you are and how much she must hate you to say such horrid things ["boys are nothing but trouble"] about your entire gender after she cruelly broke up with you for no good reason.

3. Once you've got her felling good and sorry for you, dare her to climb a flagpole, and when she is unsuccessful pick her up and drop her into a sprinkler.

4. After she unsuccessfully tries to use her tiny fists of furytm  to push you into a sprinkler, climb a tree on a dare and stay in the tree while the sprinkler catches you just to make her feel better.

5. Respond to her text her the next morning informing you of her plans to sue you for pain & suffering associated with being plopped unceremoniously in the middle of a sprinkler soaked patch of grass by using the moniker, "Soggy Bottom Girl" to refer to her for the rest of the day. 

6. Intimate* that being dropped in a sprinkler was clearly the most exciting thing that had happened to said girl all week and that she should probably thank you for such a thrilling evening.

*Less common meaning, different pronunciation. See? I larned you a new word!!! Unless you already knowed it. In which case: never mind.

7. Make up excuses to see her repeatedly throughout the week by employing (unemployed) girl to do your shopping for upcoming Yucatan service trip. Ex.: "I need to go over the shopping list with you. I need to go over the shopping list with you again. I forgot something, let us sit closely and go over the list again. This doesn't fit, can you get me a different size and then we can sit closely and go over the list again? Wow, your eyes look really green when I am sitting so close to you. What? No, I wasn't winking at you, I just had something in my eye... Your neck is sore? Did I mention that I'm really good at backrubs?/My neck is sore and I heard you were really good at backrubs."

8. Play up aspects of your selfless decision to go to Mexico and probably die from tragic spider or scorpion bite out of desire to help the little Mexican children. Make sad puppy dog eyes and sigh when you speak of the little brown-eyed children. 

9. Talk freely of your plan using service trip to spawn several illegitimate half-Mexican children in order to satisfy your mother's desire for grandchildren without having to raise them yourself or pay exorbitant American child-support fees. 

10. Trick girl into admitting how happy being around you makes her by telling her how happy being around her makes you. 

Friday, July 24, 2009

Jess's July In Valley Girl

Certain persons have been complaining that I haven't updated the blog lately and I realized that not only are they correct, but lately when I have checked in it's been all doom and gloom and wah wah wah and everyone's been so nice about encouraging me that I really owe you a post about the fact that I'm much better these days, and part of the reason why. 

Also, I'm experimenting with different dialects and I thought since I've been a Californian for 4 years now I should give valley gurl a try, though I threw in a bit of Back Bay Boston for kicks, because I'm an innovator, not a purist. Enjoy.

Ohmygosh ohmygosh I met this boy? And he has, like, a gnarly sense of humor? Also, he's like, totally cute and smells excellent? Bonus!

But I was all, "I totally can't date you because you seem nice but you're way into the gym and that means you're probably, like SO shallow and immature?" 

And he was all, "Duuuude (he's from Santa Cruz), as if! I'm totally not!"

And then he was all, "Look, I can make my pecs dance!" 

And I was like, "What. EVER. Grody to the max! Put your shirt back on."

But then I was strangely mesmerized by the dancing man boobs and when he flexed his bitchin' arm muscles at me and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively I was all, "Well I guess I could, like, hang out with you for a little while."

And then the weirdest thing happened. The boy? He, like, turned out to be really rad. Not bogus at all. And wicked smaht too. He's like, practically a surgeon. Or something. And he's, like, totally into God and church and stuff? Just like me! 

And also he makes me laugh really hard and stuff? And I like him so much that I feed him stuff and bake raspberry turnovers for him and do laundry magictm when he drops stuff on his favorite sweatshirt (I'm so sure he, like, slipped something into my drink or something to trick me into that? Maybe?) And he doesn't even run away when I'm all, "My hoooormonnnnes, it's my hoooormonnnnnes making me cryyyyyyyyy. No it's yoooouuuuur faulllttttt. No it's my hoooorrmoooonness. I'm mad at youuuuu. No I'm nooooot. Waahhhhhhhhh." 

So there's the 411. I'm thinking I'll keep him. (Duh.) Even though his boobs are bigger than mine. 

What do you think? Are you stoked? Or are you like, gag me with a spoon! ?

Sunday, July 5, 2009


Over here. No boys allowed.

Tina Fey is my Hero(ine)

tina fey
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How is Healthcare Socialism?

Oh, yes she did. 

Stirring up a firestorm of controversy and causing several former friends and relatives to toss their teabags, venerated  villified blogger Zoe asked a question that caused Ronald Reagan to turn over in his grave several time in quick succession, whereupon the former president got queasy and decided that, as motion sickness obviously affects even the dead when it comes to politics and remembering that as a non-living-entity even former presidential insurance would not cover him, the former-non-corpse decided to quiet down and leave politics to the living. 

Asking the question as someone who couldn't possibly pay more in taxes than she currently does for her own health insurance, Zoe was bemused by the crowds of angry Republicans lining the streets of San Jose today. Obviously if we implement a nationwide healthcare system the entire country will collapse. I mean look at Canada! They're begging in the streets um, well, sure they seem to be healthy enough, but just you wait. 

Am I arguing that there won't be drawbacks? Nope. Since when does any system not include drawbacks? But maybe they'll be outweighed by the... I dunno.. benefits? 

Okay, enlighten me. Discuss amongst yourselves. Please refrain from throwing rotten tomatoes. Fresh ones are fine. 

Tuesday, June 30, 2009


Jess would like to point out that she was not thinking of any one person in particular when she posited in this post that boys were nothing but trouble. 

Jess is not responsible for comments she makes in her blog and the opinions expressed in this blog are not neccesarily shared by Jess or anyone related to her. 

Boys are nothing but trouble, which is a documented fact supported by evidence that one of Jess's younger brothers once spit up in her very long hair when he was a baby and no teenaged girl should have to live through that kind of horror. However that doesn't mean Jess doesn't like boys or that life would not certainly be somewhat boring were they less trouble than they in fact are. 

Also, Jess recognizes the fact that girls are at least as much if not more trouble when they want to be although she herself is fairly sure that she has never caused even the tiniest speck of trouble in her lifetime, or at least that no one has ever proved this in a court of law.


Would it be wrong to throw a poisoned steak over my neighbors' fence to silence (For-E-verrrrr, muah hah ha ha haaaaahhh) the dog that barks approximately every 3 seconds from 3 am until 4:30 or so? My head says, Maybe. But my heart pillow says, Yes, absolutely, go for it and don't skimp on the poison.

Alternate scenarios include; organizing the neighborhood into angry European-village-type mob with pitchforks and torches in style of Frankenstein movies, following barking to source and ringing doorbell at wee hour with beatific smile and beautifully wrapped box full of smelly old cat food tins I took out of my recycle bin (i.e. If you can't beat 'em, confuse 'em ploy), crawling onto roof and barking/howling at the moon for several hours every night (i.e. If you can't confuse em, join 'em ploy), getting up and writing down ridiculous ideas my brain comes up with at 3 am to share with teh internets.

Monday, June 29, 2009

Update: Apparently I Am Not Dying After All, Probably.

According to Dr. Google, my abdominal pain may or may not have been appendicitis, but since it's much better today I'm guessing I was right and it was some sort of temporary ovarian revolt. Like the eggs trying to take over the henhouse? I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't attempt to write in this heat. Clearly my bwains are not at the top of their game today. I'm gonna go look for some air conditioning. Peace out.
funny pictures of cats with captions
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Sunday, June 28, 2009

Ovaries are Overrated

I think I've leveled out. I suddenly just started to feel fine; like the bottom wasn't falling out of my life. Heh. Freakin' drug/hormones combinations, sometimes I hate being a girl. Whenever my antidepressant levels are out of whack it seems to affect everything else. Like right now? 

[warning, grody girl stuff ahead. Read at your own risk. I'm talking to you, Dad, and Zach...] 

I'm pretty sure I'm ovulating. Is that something I need to know, Body? I DON'T THINK SO!!! I happily exist most of the time in a state of blissful ignorance about what my ovaries are doing, but not this month, no. 

I couldn't figure out why my right leg hurt at the hip joint this morning. Did I pull it? Heavens, no, it's not like I've exercised or anything lately! Then the pain started to radiate upward and sideways and I remembered that pain, it was so familiar, it was, it was... Right, stupid trouble-making right ovary. Let me tell ya, if I don't manage to use this danged reproductive system to pop out a kid someday I am going to be really, really bitter about the fact that I didn't make the doctor yank it out years ago.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Dear Universe: WTF???

I don't know what to do. I can't exist in this state for another four months... I can't even see past the next four days. All I want to do is sleep. I wish I could disappear. 

I've decided to give the Prozac-free existence (not that I'm actually free yet, so much as at the other end of the dosage range from maximum recommended) another week. If I still feel this way next weekend, I give up. I'm lucky enough to have found an anti-depressant that works for me without side-effects, maybe I should just be grateful and accept that it may not be as temporary a necessity as I'd assumed it would be. 

Why does this make me feel like a failure? It's not like I have a problem with taking thyroid medication. My thyroid doesn't work properly, I have to take medication to correct that. I'll be on it for the rest of my life, probably in increasing dosages. Obviously this is not ideal, but it doesn't make me feel weak or guilty either. And yet...

Dear Everyone Who Has Tried To Discourage Me From moving to Portland by insinuating flat out stating that I am just trying to run away from my problems and will be even more unhappy there. How is wanting to move to a place where I can afford to live without wondering every month if I'm going to be able to pay the bills "running away from my problems?" Or, if it is, what the fahita is wrong with running away from a problem called this place costs too much to live if you're not an engineer by going to a place where ordinary mortals can exist comfortably and the local newspaper doesn't run articles an entire series on the hardships of a local family of four who has to *gasp* live in their 360 sq ft newly renovated "modern French provincial with a retro element" cottage for the summer while their 3800 sq ft, multi-million dollar home is being remodeled. The deprivation!!

I understand that you want me to stay. It's not like I won't miss the people I love here tremendously. It might not seem that way when I'm moaning about how agonizing it is to be in this nowhere place- not fully here anymore, but not close enough to being there- but there are people all over the country, even the world, who it breaks my heart to be away from. I have to believe that someday these boundaries of space and time will not exist to separate us. Until then, though, you have to trust me when I tell you that I know in my heart that I don't belong here anymore. 

Thursday, June 18, 2009

Something to Look Forward To

I have a fun day planned with a couple of girlfriends in mid-August. I'm looking forward to that in a hazy, far-off-in-the-future sort of way. 

Between now and then there's nothing but a big question mark where a job should be, blah-ness, and an attempt to remember how to be on my own without being miserable.*  I can't remember now if I ever really achieved that. I do remember being deeply happy and content for long periods of time in Buttonwoods, but I know there were bad days there too. I spent more time alone during that period of my life than at any other time, but I was very rarely lonely. I wish I could go back, but I also don't. That was a long time ago and we can move only forward.** I need to find a job, pronto, but I can't find my motivation. Any of it. Have you seen it?

*I am done with boys forever for at least, like, a month. Or six. They're nothing but trouble. All of them! Except for the very small fuzzy one that I get paid to hold in the mornings this week so his mother can sleep since he keeps her up all night. See, even that one- trouble!!!

**Which is the title of a really good book, while I'm on the subject. Which I am, now. Go read it, but be warned- Michael Marshall Smith is brilliant, but not for the faint of heart. Only Forward

p.s. This is a really good review but the book is best read with no intro. Trust me, just go buy the book and read it.

I wish I could care enough to plan something to look forward to in the near future. But I don't/can't. [Wow, going off of Prozac was an awesome idea! I'm so glad I'm not dependent on evil chemicals anymore. And no, I did not stop cold-turkey, I tapered down slowly to the current low amount, which I'm afraid to decrease because I already feel like shit even though I'm pretty sure it's all circumstantial  or at least the circumstances do seem to indicate that there isn't really any reason to indicate that I should feel otherwise but maybe that's the not-prozac talking? Who can tell?! I think I just need to wait it out...]

It's looking more & more like if I'm going to find temp nanny work (yes, the move to Portland is pretty assured. It's still not really official but let me just say that I do not want to be here in six months and most nanny jobs require a long-term commitment because of bonding with the children and blah blah blah) I'll have to suck up to the evil nanny agency and sign their stupid contract that says that I owe them my eternal allegiance even though they treat me like crap and don't pay my salary but instead are making big bucks off of my awesome nannyness with little-to-no expense on their part, (also? Am modest; way.  Oh eff it, I am damned good at taking care of kids. Mean Agency Lady* can bite me, I do my job well and I've never been unreliable. I hate nanny agencies).  Or I could keep my precious integrity and risk not finding work and having to fight nice-but-slightly-unbalanced-local-homeless-guy for the bench down the street. Does integrity taste good? How about warmth, is it as good as a wool blanket? Anyone?


Also. Am tired of people who had privileged childhoods. I know it's not fair of me, but if I have one more person who started his/her first job & moved out of mom & dad's house at 25 after being put through the college of his/her choice, with spending money and family vacations included, insinuate that I'm lazy or don't work as hard as they do because I'm working part time or having trouble getting myself to face the job search once again... I might snap and do something drastic, like... make a really mean face, or something. I've been supporting myself since I was 19 and even if you don't count babysitting (for my own sibs since I was 10 and other people's kids since I was 12) I've had a job of some sort for almost twenty years. I'm tired, so sue me.*

*Disclaimer: Jess is aware that it's nobody's fault what kind of family they grew up in and that there's no particular virtue in being rich or poor or anywhere in between. Jess is cranky and depressed and doesn't mean half of what she says and, yes, really is just jealous. And no, nobody has really insinuated this anyway, Jess is just really really bitchy this week and should not be taken seriously.  

Saturday, June 6, 2009

An Epistolary Exchange

Dear "Twenties" group consisting of several twenty-somethings and a bunch of old people one of whom may or may not be the author of this blog,

It has just come to my attention that I failed to provide you with some important information regarding fundraising for our Uganda trip. The checks for our Uganda trip are not tax deductable. This is because we are paying [the NGO in question] for goods and services for our trip, and because our trip is not 75% or more a service trip. The latter enables us to spend time learning about poverty (home visits, etc.) and the work that [the NGO] does. We will be doing some service projects and spending a lot of time with kids, etc. If this poses a problem for you, please let me know, and I will make it right.

In His Grace,

Avery "Once you pop, you can't stop" Pringle*

*name changed to protect Pringle's anonymity

Dear Miz Pringle,

I personally am incensed about the failure of my large check to be deductible from the taxes I don't pay seeing as how I don't always exactly report my earnings. Death to the tyrannical government!!!... As I was saying. I would appreciate it immensely if you tore my giant contributatory check into tiny tiny shreds and then put it through the dishwasher before returning it to me in an unlined A6 envelope with a liberty bell stamp and a return address label that has cute puppies on it. If you do not currently possess cute puppy address labels consider contacting the ASPCA and indicating that you may at one point have a desire to contribute to the care and feeding of underloved animals. You will shortly be overwhelmed with free address labels featuring an assortment of cute fluffy creatures and can select an appropriately puppy-ish one to adorn the unlined A6 Envelope containing my returned check remains.

J. Davers

[Actually I contributed ten dollars. In cash.]

Friday, May 22, 2009

Note Her Gritted teeth

This picture is from the time several Christmases ago when I played my mom in Scrabble and I whipped her with, like, a forty point word and I was all In your face, woman!!!! and she was kind of a sore loser because when I asked her to hold the board up a little higher so that I could document for history the only time I've ever gotten that many points in Scrabble she was all "Like this?" and with a wide-eyed innocent smile, she tipped the board so high that all of the tiles fell off.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Captain Picard of The Starship Enterprise Makes An Historic Visit to The Krusty Krab

...poses for pictures with staff.

Update [Lisa, this is for you.]

Since you can't use a feed reader with private blogs. I'm going to try to remember to post a heads-up here when something new is up at the vault of naughtiness, bad words, candy, and harrowing tales of internet dating that Jess Uncensored is turning into. [Lisa, this is for you.] No boys allowed so far but if you're female, not my mom, and want to join in the fun, email me at @ gmail . com (no spaces in the actual address) and I'll invite you in.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Madame Language Poisson Fishes For The Right Word

Affect. An action. To have an effect on.

Is it possible to affect the misuse of these words, or will I just drive myself crazy trying?

Effect. A noun (thing).  A change that is a result of a cause.

The likely effect of this lesson will be to cause any reader who is not already aware of the proper usage of these words to stick his/her tongue out at me. Metaphorically. Or in actual fact.

To create.

In order to effect complete change in this area, it would be necessary to change the English language. 

Well, damn, that was so unhelpful that now I'm confused. I don't have any neat mnemonic tricks for this one, it's too tricky (and I didn't even get into the less common meanings). My only advice is to read more. That's the only way I can keep this silly language straight. 

Commenters? I know there are several of you who are dying to weigh in. If you can do a better job of explaining this is a way that's easy to remember, I'll redo the post.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Weekend In Santa Cruz

A few weeks ago a friend of mine had access to a gorgeous beach house, he invited some people down for the weekend. There was plenty of wine and no shortage of beer but I don't think that had anything to do with the topics of conversation. A short lexicon of the weekend's key phrases:

Flaming shorts- EW* insisted that somewhere between soaked and completely dry, his swim shorts magically displayed flaming skull motifs. Doubt was expressed. The theory was put forth that EW was simply making up stories in an effort to get people to stare at his shorts. Many hours and several re-wetting and partial drying attempts later, after being displayed on the curtain rod and watched closely for an hour (and possibly, just possibly, a hair dryer was applied at one point, although that is a rumor which I cannot personally confirm or deny) the precise state of saturation was achieved and the shorts did indeed faintly show a flaming skull motif. 

However I prefer to tell the story this way: Last weekend EW had too much to drink, took off his shorts, and hung them on the curtain rod in the living room! 

The fact that he had already changed into pants is an irrelevant detail that bogs the story down. This is why I am a writer and you're not. I understand these things.

Extraneous nipple hairs: Again, EW stars, as the owner of a single mutant, 3-inch nipple hair. There are several incriminating photos of him stroking and murmuring to the freakish strand and all attempts to yank it out were met with the protest, "My preciousss!! It mussst ssstay!" 

Are you decent?: This is the proper query to preface an pillow-based attack  on members of the opposite sex in the middle of the night. It does ruin the element of surprise somewhat.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent, and everybody else too.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Scrubs Series Finale *spoiler alert*

I'm a huge Scrubs fan. I haven't had access to tv + cable regularly enough for the last few years to have kept up with it, but I've watched the first three seasons on dvd in their entirety and watched the last few seasons piecemeal whenever I got the chance. I recently discovered that I could watch the latest episodes at work, where they have an On Demand subscription. Guess what I've been doing lately while Princess McChubbythighs* naps? 

In my opinion, there's very little on television that's as well put-together as this show. The acting is superb, the writing is hilarious but hits serious notes in all the right places, and the soundtrack is frequently excellent. I've thoroughly enjoyed watching and I'm grateful that the show is ending (I'm pretending that there are no rumors of a continuation of the series, as amazing as the rest of the cast is, it wouldn't be Scrubs without Zach Braff's character) on such a high note. There's nothing sadder than watching a show you love fight for life, long after it should have been taken off of life support. 

The final episode was perfect. Peter Gabriel's haunting cover of The Magnetic Fields' song Book of Love plays over a old-fashioned home video montage of JD's fantasy of the Sacred Heart gang's future. I've only watched this about 50 times today and I thought I should share the obsession with all of you lovely readers so that you too can avoid folding the laundry. Enjoy!

p.s. I LOOOOOOVE Peter Gabriel. Just thought you should know.


Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Ms. Language Person Lays Down the Law

Allude is to refer to something indirectly. "I allude to Dave Barry's "Mister Language Person" persona with my title."

Elude is to avoid capture. "The damned french fry had eluded me for the last time; I determined to quickly smother it in catsup."

I've been seeing these mixed up for a while, but when I read about a woman eluding to something in a newspaper post, it was the last straw. A hint? Elude should never be paired with to, while allude should almost always be.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Coming [as] Soon!!! [as Katie gets her butt in gear and uploads the photos.]

My supercool sister Katie came to visit on her spring break. We established that she was not moving to California and I reigned in the big sister bossy pants in me. Then I took her to see elephant seals in Ano Nuevo. This was delightful in that it allowed me to listen while Katie called our ultra-conservative-Christian parents and informed them that I'd brought her to see weaners. On the beach. Awesome.

Conversation with my mom (who is nervous that I'm going to corrupt Katie with my liberal-commie-pinko-hippie-tree-loving-left-coast-socialist-pagan-ungodly-corrupted ways)* pre-Katie's visit:

Mom: "...and no making her get an Obama tattoo!"

Me: "Now don't worry Mom, I've got it all figured out. She'll probably come home knocked up, but rest assured, she'll also be pro-choice, so she can get it 'taken care of.'"

Mom: I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of laughing, I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of laughing, I'm not going to 

Coming soon: a more derailed detailed version of the Adventures of Katie and Jess. Including our informative sampling of every form of public transportation San Francisco offers, all in one day! I wanted to make sure Katie learned something to make up for missing two days of school and this lesson was entitled Her big sister has absolutely no sense of direction.

*It's ironic- wait, is that the right word? Funnyhaha? Funnystrange? Irritating?- that I'm simultaneously derided by my conservative family for being too wild while I'm being lectured by some guy that I met on the internet on my old-fashioned prudish ways because I told him there's no chance I'm going to sleep with him. [Hi, Steve.] 

A girl just can't win.

Saturday, May 2, 2009


Have started a blog for the specific purpose of saying bad words, Woot! Also venting, which will occasionally involve other words as well. It's private, so if you want permission email me at -at- gmail -dot- com. If I like you, you're in. If I'm using the blog to rant about you, well that would just be awkward for everyone, wouldn't it? 

Seriously though, do it. I like you way more than all of my other readers put together- don't tell them I said that.

Monday, April 13, 2009

Perfect Easter

Beautiful sunny warm spring weather and the official first dress-wearing of the year. 

Hearing 3 good friends beautifully share their stories at church. Singing my favorite worship songs with my church family.

Having a post-church conversation with Scott and finding that I'm not the only one who thinks sermons are boring and responsive readings are creepy.

Going to lunch and then the Japanese stationery and grocery stores with friends to stock up on Kawaii Gone Bad and Pocky for the nephews.

Taking a traditional ceremonial redemptive Easter Nap. Waking to find it still light out at 7:30. Intoning irreverently (in the spirit of Easter) "I have arisen."

Hanging out with great people at the Russet house, watching (listening to) a Pink Floyd concert dvd and eating Zachburgers. Followed by a short nap on a beanbag and then singing Happy Birthday and eating Cake. Wrapping up with a gut-busting session of reminiscing college hijinks. Including the time when Mabi & his associates stole the toilet seats from the girls' bathrooms and hid them in the woods. And the time Jill, Becky and I wrote a radio play to get the maintenance crew to fix our stopped up sink.*

*It worked

Interview with Mrs. Spit

Continued. Question 2 is here.

3. How should the church respond to the present environmental challenges

I think the church should bury its collective head in the sand while chanting, "There's no such thing as global warming!!" Yeah, that works. My dad, for instance, holds fast to his belief that the hole in the ozone layer is a crazy story Al Gore made up and the increase of skin cancer is just due to the fact that people wear too little clothing these days. Of course, Dad was also recycling and composting before it was cool to do so, so I guess it all balances out. 

Oh wait, did you want a serious answer? Again, balance, balance, balance; and thus no easy formulaic answer. I do think it's ridiculous for Christians to claim the earth is our domain and we should feel free to treat it in whatever way seems to benefit us most at the moment. That's like a good ruler handing the throne over to a regent so that his people could be well cared for, only to have the regent turn them into slaves and justify his actions with the fact that the king had turned power over to him so it's his right (or even responsibility) to use and abuse it at will.

I also wish the church would stop trying to pick a fight with the scientific community. It makes Christians look like idiots and there's a long history (see: Galileo, etc.) of the church being proved wrong in the end. The scientific community wouldn't be so anti-religion in general if they hadn't always been treated as the enemies of truth by religious authorities who claimed to have a stranglehold on the concept. I'm not saying science is infallible by any stretch of the imagination, or that scientists don't have their own prejudices but why assume that they're always out to get the church?   

A lot of the controversy is over things that we just don't/can't know. Will the polar ice caps melt from global warming? Nobody knows for sure. Some people believe wholeheartedly and with good reason that they will, some believe just as strongly that they are incorrect in their research and reasoning. Maybe side A is right, maybe side B is right, but the future is really just an unknown at any time. It's when we start assigning right and wrong to questions like this that the issues get tangled and discussion stalls. Why is it more Christian to believe that we haven't damaged the world than that we have? 

  1. Update: I'm adding a link to this article I found in The Christian Century by one of my favorite Christian writers, Real Live Preacher. He says what I'm trying to say far more eloquently than I could.  The Lion and the Lamb

Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Madeline died.

She was here and then suddenly, not. She survived an early birth and a harrowing first few months of life, only to succumb unexpectedly at 17 months. I can't think too deeply about what her parents must be feeling right now.

I knew her story but had not followed it too closely- too many blogs, not enough time- but I can't avoid the news of this loss. It's everywhere. This little corner of the internet is bleeding today.

The Spohr's blog is inaccessible right now, overloaded by traffic, and shut down until something can be done to get it up and running again. In the meantime, Maddie's parents have requested donations to The March of Dimes in her memory.

Look at this smile.

Dance with angels, Madeline Alice Spohr.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

funny pictures of cats with captions
see more Lolcats and funny pictures

funny pictures of cats with captions

Mrs. Spit Stumps Me

Mrs. Spit's was kind enough to interview me, ages ago. I decided to answer her questions one at a time for fear that I'll never finish the post where I attempt to answer them all (also out of kindness to my readers, because I do tend to ramble on, and nobody has that long an attention span). Also completely out of order starting with this Anne of Green Gables question because it's the easiest:

2. Would you have forgiven Gilbert sooner than Anne did?

Hmmm, I don't know. Had he really done anything wrong (other than calling her Carrots, which I excuse because teenaged boys are just dumb and they can't help it)? I'd like to say I would have but I can definitely be as neurotic as Anne. For instance much of my life has been spent having fruitless crushes on boy-friends who are not interested in me. To clarify, it's not that I fall for the buddy types. It's that they only seem attractive to me after I've established that they will never actually pursue me. Relationships are so much safer if they never get started, don't you think?

To get back to the question at hand, when I'm watching the movie, I'm all for giving Gil a chance and it has nothing to do with that fact that he's cute because I am not shallow like that. Hardly. But I'm definitely at least as stubborn and neurotic as Anne so I probably would have had a torrid short-lived affair with that boring rich guy and ended up an alcoholic stupor in PEI's only insane asylum, ranting about Rollings Reliable baking powder and my lost chances with Gilbert.

Sunday, March 29, 2009

My Favorite Songs Right Now All Have Lyrics That MAKE NO SENSE

Is There A Ghost by Band of Horses. I'm a little in love with the lead singer's voice and even though there are less than 15 words in the entire song I could listen to it for days without getting tired of it. Josh gets credit for introducing me to this great band. Here's their website where you can watch the video for this song and others. Check out No One's Gonna Love You

Human by The Killers

The video's linked above but I can't embed it. Here's a purely audio version.

And yes, I know I'm a giant lame-o because I never post and I asked for suggestions and haven't even used any of them. I'm just... I don't know, stuck, lately? It's been a rough week, with too much emotional crap I'd thought long dealt with and other crap that I don't know how to deal with rising to the surface. I've been experiencing a lot of anxiety (like near-constant low-grade panic attacks) and I'm not sure if it's just due to emotional stress or if I should get checked out in case it's something the doctor could actually help with. In any case, music is all I can safely think/write about in such a public forum right now. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate the suggestions though. I will use them eventually!

Keeping You Entertained Through the Blogging Drought

This is a classic. Enjoy!

Friday, March 27, 2009

Uh Huh, You Know It's True.

barack obama

I've got the blogging blahs. Mrs. Spit sent me these great interview questions ages ago and I just can't seem to work up the righteous indignation to rant about the justice system, or anything else. I think the Great Facebook Debate debacle of '09 knocked the fire right outta me but don't worry, I'm sure I'll be spitting it again soon enough. 

In the meantime I feel like writing something funny but I just can't seem to get out of this rut and get started with an idea. Therefore, I've decided to take requests. Leave yours (the goofier the better) in the comments and I'll see what I can do. 

Sunday, March 15, 2009

I Will S h it Upon the Green Green Grass

Hey, remember that time Daniel ran through the front yard naked? I believe I reference it here. So Daniel has kidnapped my nephew (his son) and is holding him captive until I write about what an awesome brother he is. So here are some awesome Dan facts:

Dan is number four. After three daughters, everyone was expecting him to be a girl. My parents, who you'd think would have known better since they'd been so 100% convinced I was a boy that they argued with the nurse in the delivery room when she announced my gender, had failed to make any preparations for a man-child's arrival. Thus he went by "Baby Boy Davenport" for two weeks. It was especially awkward at the library, where we went every other day to check out baby name books. You'd think the librarians would have looked at the tiny baby, noted the book selection, and declined to ask, "What's his name?!?" I think they just thought it was fun to watch my mom try to explain.

Dan was an interesting child. One evening we were out playing (this was in the olden days, when all the neighborhood children would play outside until the moms started calling us home for dinner, I suspect that most children these days are not allowed out of the house without protective bubble wrap and constant adult supervision) I noticed Daniel- maybe two at the time- crouching at the edge of the front lawn, near the street. Some early-honed big sister instinct prompted me that something was not right and indeed, as I looked more closely I realized that the little cherub had his pants down around his ankles and was pooping on the front lawn. Our dog wasn't even allowed to do that.

Despite my cries of horror and sense of familial shame, my parents found the whole thing fairly hilarious. I knew I would never be able to look Kara Trainer in the eye again, but they cared nothing for my neighborhood social status. Ah, the cruelties of youth. I wonder where Kara is these days. Maybe, if I'm lucky, she has a two year old who poops on the lawn.

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Friday, March 13, 2009

FB status conversation:

Michael R Lockard spent forty five minutes trying to chop his other kayak out of the ice with an axe. It's still stuck.

James Scott at 12:23pm March 12
How many do you own?

Heather Coyne Thorpe at 2:26pm March 12
Why did you leave it so long that the water froze around it?

Michael R Lockard at 1:10am March 13
Four now. Two are the kids, my race kayak from last year, and the new tandem, Yellow Lightnin'

Michael R Lockard at 1:12am March 13
I left it against the side of the house all winter where the snow falls on it and the water drips off the roof and freezes into an icy kayak tomb.

Jess Davenport at 10:37am March 13
I hate it when my kayak freezes to the house.

James McCrillis at 4:02pm March 13
just set it on will get unstuck..and burned, but unstuck never the less

Jess Davenport at 5:14pm March 13
I hate it when my frozen kayak gets set on fire.

James McCrillis at 5:16pm March 13
you could always use it as an opportunity for a bar-b-q

Jess Davenport at 5:18pm March 13
I hate it when Jim bar-b-q's

James McCrillis at 5:22pm March 13
well in general everyone except kayakers usually have a really great time at a Jim McCrillis bar-b-q

Jess Davenport at 5:34pm March 13
I don't. He tried to kill me with a potato chip one time.

James McCrillis at 5:47pm March 13
well i am a trained assassin and potato chips were all that were available to me before you made me and tried to kick me in the shins.

James McCrillis at 5:48pm March 13
hey wait a minute this about Mike's kayak....burn it!

Jess Davenport at 7:55pm March 13
I think I'm going to write a FB app called "virtual kick in the shins." It will be like poking, only infinitely better!!!

James McCrillis at 8:04pm March 13
the power of positive thinking....

Jess Davenport at 8:18pm March 13
I like how we've completely taken over Mike's status comments

James McCrillis at 8:20pm March 13
I don't think he even realizes it....but does it really matter at this point Brain he is powerless to reverse the damage...tomorrow we take over the world...oh thats your line..darn

Jess Davenport at 8:24pm March 13
No, it's okay, Pinky. I like to let you play the evil genius sometimes. I'm taking a break today and being insane because I think I must have a brain tumor and my head hurts so much that death would be a welcome relief. Was that a segue?

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Maybe I Should Get My News Somewhere Other Than Yahoo

Under headline, Weekend of Surprises

Octomom's publicist quits and calls her "nuts."

Surprising? Really?

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Bizarro Library: An Updated Classic

A repost with light rewrite. It counts as half a new post. Shut up, Lisa.

inspired by a fomato card

dear george,

for your graduation from veterinary school i wanted to get you something special. at first i thought a fur coat might be nice. but someone told me that your favorite animal is squirrel and i could not find anyone selling squirrel fur coats except this one man and he could not assure me that the squirrels had been treated kindly so i turned him down.

next i wanted to get you a hot air balloon, but apparently they are difficult to store and i was afraid you wouldn't be able to fit it in your volkswagon what with the casket and the full-size trampoline already being in there.

now i am out of ideas.

this is just like that time you turned 21 and i wanted to get you something extra special so i bought one of those beer hats that has straws on the side but then you told me the day of your birthday that you were converting to mormonism and shunning the evils of drink.

i still have that hat. sometimes when i am feeling down i put it on and sorrowfully drink beer out of it while telling myself over and over what a poor friend i am and how i let you down by not getting you that special mormon underwear that you really wanted.

it also reminds me of the time when we were kids and you told me my magic superpower was hiding in the closet for a long time and then locked me in to show me. those were fun times. sometimes when i wake up in the night scared from that pesky recurring nightmare i have of being locked in a small dark space and realize that i have wet the bed again i think of you and all the wacky shenanigans we got into together.

but back to your graduation present. maybe it would be rude to get you a graduation present when they are not letting you officially graduate because of that incident with the koala and the schnapps and the mormon underwear. (how are your petitions to be let back into the church going?) but i think it still counts though even if you can't walk across the stage and your name is not in the program and even though you had to agree that you would never never tell anyone what school you went to or they would revoke your conditional diploma. besides i am sure there are lots of veterinary clinics that would be happy to hire you even with the warning they wrote on your transcript.

well it looks like i will have to get you something practical like a turtleneck or jar of elmer's glue or a poster of jon bon jovi. i hope you will like it because it came from my heart even though it is not as special as a beer hat with straws.