hot kinky nerd luvin'

Check out the trailer for the next Batman flick Sooo far away, yet they give just enough to get me psyched for next july.

computer insanity

why is it that computers can be so friendly and useful, then... when i least expect it... they turn on me in an instant?!

PLASTIC BERTRAND CA PLANE POUR MOI

the flemenglench pop wonder of it all!

i love neko case's sound factory

i just bought my ticket to see the new pornographers in october. i am insanely excited. saw them in sf at bimbos in 2005 - my hopes were HIGH and let me just say that i was not disappointed. neko wasn't at every show that tour (and will not be at the oct show,) but i was lucky enough to see her that night. yeep! she gotz mad skillzzzz! the woman's pipes are unbelievable and rock the live performance. in short... i ♥ neko and the NPs. here are some songs in case you are wondering why...

my slow descent into alcoholism = one of my fave NP songs

letter from an occupant = beauty in a neko (try to ignore the fact that the vid is lame and focus on neko's pipes)

lolcat bible

i don't know how many of you are familiar with lolcat funnies, but this is hilarious to me.

genesis in cat-language...

Time for Teens - Part 8: Richard's Armor

i was having a totally crap day when i received this little gem from the immortal rock-god known as todd petersen. this unexpected awesomeness instantly sent my misery back to the hell-fire from whence it came. i believe i may promote it as a treatment for migraines... enjoy.

just for juan...

since you're bored at work and they blocked youtube...

no? ok, try this and watch the first one at home... it's not very funny, but you can see rob corddry, who i believe is hot:

reason #357 why old people are cool

as some of you may know, (and by "some of you" i mean the 4 people who read my blog,) i work at a website devoted to the rockin' boomer crowd. that's right people - internet socialization of the over 50 set. yes, it is endlessly entertaining for all the reasons you probably imagine, but! there are moments when i am pleasantly surprised and entertained by things i never imagined. this morning was just such an occasion. turning on my computer, opening up all my apps so i could get to work solving the problems of our more disgruntled members, i gave our homepage the usual quick perusal. that's when i came across this little gem. enjoy.
zombie-fun

THANKS JESPY!!! check out this rad addition to the zombie post courtesy of the jespy:

where thinking in the car will get ya...

tonight was my last tango class. it was by far the most difficult class. the material was challenging and as we all struggled, i left tonight without getting a really good dance in. just didn't find that - click - with anyone. hard to explain why, but this produces a weirdly uncomfortable, unsettled feeling. it's an extremely unpleasant form of dissatisfaction. and i was tired. i mean, i worked. yet, there was this something that just never got a chance to get out.

so, i got in my car to leave and figured i'd put on some music and sing it out. i threw on some of my favorite music to sing to and just wailed. it felt GREAT. not just, yeah!-i-got-it-out! great, but great the way singing feels when your breath is free, your body feels strong and relaxed and it's just easy. flowing. funny enough, this is exactly the feeling that never happened at tango tonight. yet, it was tango that got me into this place. prepared me to sing with like, 70% better technique than i normally muster. so it occurs to me, it's amazing how similar singing and tango are.

in my singing lesson days, my biggest liability was my resistance to relaxing into my breath. to let the breath flow, while at the same time supporting it firmly, committing yourself to even the subtlest use of that breath. and this of course can not be achieved while holding back, being tentative, or dwelling on self-consciousness. you have to take the plunge, and still be taking the plunge, never abandoning, even when a note is soft and long. tango is exactly the same way. like many beautiful voices, it is very often slow and deliberate, while still undeniably dynamic. lingering, subtle, intimate. then a burst of overt power. a display of what's been contained.

thinking on these qualities, i have come to an interesting realization. almost everything i love to do is made more excellent by the mastery of these qualities. i think that is because i love artistic expression. the importance of pace and timing, the interconnectedness of breath and ground, strength and fluidity, dynamic subtlety and overt power - all of these relationships inform creative expression at its best. they all contribute to the kind of controlled tension that poses a question and demands a response. there may be an infinite number of answers, but you must pick one. even if just for a moment.

so what's the point of all this rambling? i guess all i'm trying to say is, when i dance, i am literally becoming a better singer, writer, photographer, and well - artist. and i love that. it rocks.

what i love right now

-half nelson
-driving brian's S4
-tango
-salsa
-my new undyroos
-my open-toe blue patent pumps
-the word "ass" (sorry guys, i try to keep it to a minimum around people bothered by this delightful word)
-buy2-get2 free previously viewed dvds at blockbuster
-red lipstick that stays on NO MATTER WHAT (seriously, i slept in it, showered in it, ate with it on, ... ok, no, i didn't make out with it on, cuz i'm currently luvurless. what a waste of NASA-strength red lipstick, right?)
-57 t-bird spike's dog with a pepsi
-America

asking

i am sick and can not sleep. so what to do? post! and luckily i have some great material - my lesson of the day!

this evening, while gchatting and generally feeling miserable both physically and mentally (phoneless = pathetic ball of mental discomfort,) colleen asked whether i needed a blessing and could she help me get hold of moonman to give said blessing. well folks, i had never asked for a blessing.

there have been many times throughout my last 2 and 1/2 years as an lds gal that i could have benefited greatly from a blessing. and yet, i always seemed to talk myself out of it, not get around to it, or otherwise flagrantly avoid making the request. i always seemed to feel that whatever was going on with me was not important enough to warrant putting someone out, drawing undue attention to myself, and well, asking for help.

then, last week a friend found herself in a situation that she thought might call for a blessing, yet she felt uncomfortable asking. we talked about it extensively and the conversation stayed with me. why did i hesitate so much? what did it mean that i would not ask? was i being prideful? did i not think i was important enough to ask for God's attention and the attention of one of his disciples? did that mean that i don't believe God when he says he loves me? what exactly would be important enough to force me to ask for help? because that's basically what my actions were saying - i shouldn't ask unless i was forced to by insanely extreme circumstances.

when colleen asked those words, "do you think you need a blessing?" (thanks colleen. you are in touch with the Spirit and we around you benefit from that immensely.) my immediate reply was, "i was thinking about it, but..." then that previous conversation came to mind and something told me, it's time to start asking now. so i asked. surprisingly, it was a lot simpler than i'd imagined. no lengthy explanations/justifications for my need. just a simple request for help.

the blessing was perfect. exactly what i needed. the Lord was there for me and for the worthy priesthood holder who served me when i asked. this power given to us through the Lord's priesthood is a testament to both how much he loves us and how much he trusts us. it was an experience of heartbreaking grace to benefit so directly from power and authority bestowed by Christ.

not growing up in the church, i've not often thought about the fact that i do not have a priesthood holder in my house. very early on in my conversion, i held a strong testimony of the significance of priesthood authority and the importance of the men in our church, who are certainly the most amazing men in the world. but i never really connected this knowledge to myself on a personal level. i knew it in my mind and spirit, but not in my heart.

tonight i learned it in my heart. and lemme tell ya - it feels great!

aaaaactually...

ok, so i nixed sorella's. some other time (seriously people, it freakin rocks so get your butts over there with me.) j.p. turned out to be a tad too far off for me today, so i decided to stroll my new neighborhood and explore davis square.

can i just say my new diggs are the freaking bomb location?! davis rocks. yeah, it's a bit scuzzy, but in a cool way. like, ok, there's a dollar store next to a mcdonalds, and it seems a little like all the stores sell things that are used... BUT the radness is in the FOOD. i ate for the first time at mr. crepe (ham and cheddar crepe, along with some fresh squeezed lemonade - delish! if a tad over priced...) i realize all of you probably already know about places like mr. crepe, so you'll have to excuse my country-bumpkiness. after enjoying my food, reading my entertainment weekly, and people watching, i wandered over to the benches in the square and listened to two old dudes singing bluegrassy-old-timey music. the breeze was warm and blowing my skirt around. the square was hoppin', but in a lazy way. it was heaven.

in my wanderings, i realized that there are several places i already know will have a special place in my life this summer: spikes (57 t-bird baby!), j.p. licks, the somerville theatre, and mr. crepe. my curiosity was piqued by gargoyles, orleans, the burren, and johnny d's. ah, the sweet promise the beginning of summer brings! so much to explore! so much to experience! so many sensory delights!

now, the best part. my new apartment rocks in and of itself and i am THRILLED to finally have a place to host my peeps. i mean, for crying out loud! i have been the nomadic rootless wonder lacking any and all context for a year and a half! now, i can share a space of mine with the people i heart, and that's you! (fyi - as far as i know, only people i heart read my puny blog. readership has not been nurtured by yours truly.)

people, i want to see your faces here. i want to see your booties shakin' here. i want to hear your delicious voices here. this summer is going to wail. you have my word on that. now are you in, or what?

sorella love

i want to go to sorella's in J.P. oh-so-badly and peeps is all outa town, sleepin, or just plain not down. that means there's only one thing to do. go it alone. i will report back with full details.

Saved from the Golden Sperm

in 8th grade i tried out for the Cupertino High School Drill Team. it was both the most traumatic and most fortuitous experience of my high school career. this is my tale...

as a marginally cool, largely ignorant 8th grader, my knowledge of the Golden Spurs consisted of the following:

1. they were the high school dance team
2. my best friend's older sister was one (she was cool)
3. they mostly looked alike - size 0-4, pony tail, make-up, BIG smile, knowing look...

WHAT then would posses me to try and become a Spur? what switch flipped in my brain that i made this mad leap down the rabbit hole? in my little 8th grade mind it was simple really. i had danced off and on since i was a kid and i wanted a high school identity (basically, a gang that would have my back.) plus, i even had the pony tail. what could be more natural?

reality. what could be less natural? i was around a size 10, was painfully self-conscious, and couldn't do the splits.

SO, tryouts.

show up to the Wagon Wheel. like it's not terrifying enough just being on campus at THE HIGH SCHOOL, i'm surrounded by midrif bearing elf girls, chirping, giggling, and the lot. really, i believe they were speaking another language. well, we proceed to learn THE ROUTINE. it's a predictably lame jazz-type-stripper-infused number. to 8th grade jenni's mind this translates as, "this is AWESOME. i will master this AWESOMENESS." i roll, i slide, i leap, i fall, i spin, i wag my ass, i even flip.

one week later it's audition day. i've been trying for 7 days to convince my anatomy that my legs ARE supposed to split 180 degrees apart. legs not having it. i have also been trying to convince my face to SMIIIIILE! while failing to execute said splits. i think it came out more like a lunatic grimace. people, i gave it my all (of course, telling myself the whole time i didn't really care if i made the team.)

moment of truth. the next day the list is posted. failure. rejection. tears. my BF's big sis consoles me. we all decide it's for the best. after all, i am going to be a swimmer, so who has time for drill? ...

immediate payoff? in the course of my spastically enthusiastic audition, i injure my hip. then, right after the auditions, we take our 8th grade trip to yosemite for science camp. i hike daily, sometimes up to 8 miles, all on my injured hip. the injury becomes chronic! my doctor forbids me from P.E. for THE REST OF THE YEAR! let's just say, P.E. was not my favorite class. this was a major coup. instead of running, failing at pull-ups, and being forced to play volleyball/basketball (2 sports i consider to be vile torture,) i got to hang out with the guidance couselor. she just so happened to be the mom of the HOTTEST boy in school. so, said hot boy came around often - hello eye candy!

people, this was the gift that kept on giving. i get out of almost all running my freshman year as well. i milk this injury for all it's worth! by the time i'm a sophomore, i find myself somehow magically transformed from Presidential Physical Fitness Reject to High School Aquatic Athlete. this means, no P.E at all while in season, major favoritism while out of season.

i proceed with four years of swimming and water polo, in which time i learn:

1. the Golden Spurs are often treated to the lovely moniker "Golden Sperm"
2. they all wear matching socks, which freaks my friends on the team out, yet they feel they too must wear the socks
3. the have that knowing look for a reason. they KNOW. example - they make out with each other to impress drunk boys
4. they don't win

meanwhile, i definitely found my gang. and let me tell you, i'll take a pack of water polo players at my back over 90lb dancers any day. not that i'm knockin' the Sperms. i had friends who were spermies. i just felt bad for them. heh.

warning: this is not a real post

okay, so i know when i posted my superheroes bit, i had yet to build a healthy readership. i am going to stick with this as the reason why SO many amazing suuperheroes (who i happen to know personally) have failed to register here. on my kick-AAZ blog. schmoopers. check it out yo.

huh? anyway, this is your grand opportunity people! sieze hold! scroll ever so boldly down the page and become part of super hero history! Proclaim you powers to all the world! well, at least to the 3 people who read my blog.

my future as an internet MEEEEL'eon'air

i would like to take this opportunity to announce to the WORLD (and all worlds which may or may not come in contact with this blog post) that i, BLEEEEEEEEEP (name censored due to unfounded and illogical levels of internet paranoia) have the honor and distinction of having received and accepted an offer of employment at eons.com. yes. it's true.

in honor of this bang-up-dandy-A1-crackerjack-splendidly-grand achievement, i will be accepting:

1. high 5s
2. fist bumps
3. txt msgs of love
4. VERY good hugs
5. food
6. back massages
7. high praise
8. wolf-whistles
9. swirly dances and dips
and
10. winks

as you may have guessed from the title of this post, my position at eons is somewhat extraordinary, in that it may in fact make me MEEEEELions. this is something that never really hit me until after i'd signed on the dotted line (that was yesterday btw.) only now do i find the vision of wonderful financial possibility dawning on me. as i aspire to the fine arts, meeeelions and weeelions would be quite convenient ("weeelions": an amount equal to what an artist could live comfortably on for the rest of her and her lucky mate's natural lives) . understand, i do envision myself as a wildly successful artist raking in the dough with my lucratively deep and astounding perspective on existence. still, meeeelions wouldn't hurt.

now, some of you may scoff at the thought that the internet fortunes of yesteryear may again return to the earth. you may think to yourself, "internet start-ups are nothing more than a broken dream lying in the ashes of hope's cold shadow. prepare for astonishing levels of failure!" well cynical friend, i say BELIEVE!

SO, stay tuned for news on the progress of my net-worth. and if any of you are wondering what on earth this has to do with you, i'd say TONS. but that's all i'd say. and i do. i say it.

Dream

ok, for those of you who know me fairly well, you will not be surprised to learn i have recently had a rather bizarre and vivid dream. it is true, i am prone to such sleepytime adventures as: alien religious ceremonies, flying around mountain peaks, desert palace nude dance battles with a little hand-to-hand combat thrown in the mix, zombie all-night ragers, etc... well, this most recent dream belongs right in the upper echelons of all-time spoonfullofbizarre dreams.

so i'm running with this pack of delinquent teens. we're pretty much all runaways, and the world's pretty much gone to pot. a sort of post-ww3-collapse-of-democracy-police-state-disguised-as-utopia kind of place. well, as you can imagine, the kids aint havin it. roaming around desolate rural fields in our stolen vehicle (stolen from a junk yard and fixed by some ingenious lost soul), we come across a massive burnt-out looking industrial-type building. with a little clumsy, painfully disinterested exploration, we find we have stumbled upon a resistance of sorts.

mobs of young people, partying it up, playing video games on huge screens, multiple djs spinning in various abandoned cement enclaves, drugged-out dancers (i'm pretty sure they were dancing in slow-motion), and of course, a charismatic leader. the leader gets up on a platform with a mic and stops the festivities. he wails about freedom and secrecy and triumph and then asks some kind of pledge of everyone present (this part's a little hazy). all in attendance affirm his creepy pseudo-religious call-and-response gig. my friends and i look at each other and think - is there a way we can party here without them all knowing we are impostors?

we proceed to engage the recreational opportunities. we are very convincing as compatriots to the scene and are not questioned. eventually we decide to leave, hop back in our junk yard vehicle and head out to the pastures to crash hidden in some crops. well, some suspicious hooligans decide to follow us. thus ensues the crop field car chase of all time. i mean, you've never seen crops this high, strange corn-fields, only not corn, great for hiding behind and flying around to surprise your enemies. somehow, i don't remember, we make peace with our pursuers and establish ourselves as regulars at this freak-show we've discovered. it's a sad picture really, this make-shift family of discontent youth hiding from the scary MAN.

well, at some point in the future, my crew gets into it with some other crew again. but we are a peace-loving crew, and offer to leave for the time being to appease our detractors. surprisingly, when we leave, there is a veritable army of winnebagos blocking out path to the car. they are shooting at us and throwing random object (books, rocks, cleaning supplies). we dodge the assault and make it through to our escape wagon. we look at each other with a sense of relief as well as a mutual understanding that that was totally weird. we head out to the crop fields and chill on the hood of our massive junk yard magic carpet ride. as we relax beneath the sunshine, contemplating the desolation before us - brown, nasty, unappetizing looking "crops" beneath a bluish haze - we witness a large plane fly overhead. a sinister fireball appears off in the distance. we know at that moment that we have narrowly avoided extermination. all thanks to the jerk-faced crew that gave us a hard time.

that's pretty much all i remember, but i think there was some sort of montage-type memorial reel at the end, concluding with hints that another party outpost was already glowing in the wilderness somewhere. you just can't keep those kids down.

calling all superheroes!

i would like to take this opportunity to formally invite all who read this blog to please register their superpowers with me. i have developed a new team-based mentality about superhero work, and i believe the first step is for us to know what exactly we're working with. of course, please feel free to register under your superhero name if you wish to maintain the integrity of your secret identity. i don't want all that responsibility anyway. all you have to do is comment with your super-name and any powers/skills you posses that you feel can help save the world. i will start by registering myself here:

powers: very low blood pressure, amazing make-out intuition, the power to find humor in ANY situation, the uncanny ability to sense others' superpowers, and "natural moves"*

skills: massage, beverage invention/construction, karaoke, extensive aquatic skills*

*this list is complete to my knowledge as of this posting and does not include powers/skills that may yet manifest/be acquired

i am also taking suggestions on names for our league of superheroes.

you may be reading this thinking, "i don't have any superpowers." well, let me tell you, we live in a time of unprecedented superpower manifestation and i am willing to bet you DO have powers. and you know you have skills! it's time to start using them to battle evil!

thank you for your participation.

MU is played! TNT whuh whuh!!

ok, some of you may not yet have had the pleasure of seeing stomp the yard. see it. i mean, it's got moves that don't stop! that dancing is REEEdiculous! maaaany HOT guys with shirts off, (don't worry guys, there are some fine ladies as well... just not as many - ha!.) personal growth and triumph over adversity! happy endings! and of course, there are countless golden opportunities for interaction - random commentary by the viewer(s) only adds to the experience.

you might ask, "how has stomp the yard changed your life?" first and foremost, it has introduced me to the apparently thriving world of competetive stepping. i mean, some of it looks sort of easy, but trust me, it's NOT. i've already started practicing for my ward talent show in april, and let me tell you, my team and i are going to need every day until then to perfect our fly routine. second, this marvelous film has taught me the valuable lessons of humility and teamwork. take my work as a superhero for example (see post above.) i used to think my superhero sh*#! didn't stink and that i could save the world all on my own. now i know, it's not all about me showing off and getting the glory. it's about the TEAM. what team? the human team! we need to work together to "step", if you will, into a brighter future. deep, right?

tongula

what's 16" long, part super-heat-resistant plastic, part metal, part tong, part spatula???
The Tongula!
yes, i had the good fortune to be professionally trained on tongula use this evening. let's just say, you haven't flipped food until you've flipped it with the tongula. i mean, we're talking professional grade here. total control. i'm not even sure you can buy one without a license. but if you have a hook-up, i suggest you get your mitts on one. this could be the next NEXT level for your culinary experience.

throwing down!

so, i was recently called out with regards to "throwing down." it went something like this: "keep it up, cuz i WILL throw down." antagonist responds: "you've been saying so all night, but it looks like you're all talk. let's go." at which point i realized, what exactly had i meant by "throw down?" fight? wrestle? debate? name calling? battle of witty banter? dance off? make out? (this last possibility may seem out of place, but trust me, it isn't.) it hit me like a freight train. my adrenaline response spiked. i didn't know what i meant, but whatever i did mean, i was gonna DO IT. now you may or may not have experienced the unpleasant sensation of a body full of adrenaline with nowhere to go. let me just tell you, it is disquieting. and for someone like me, being caught of guard - by a boy no less! a hot boy! a smart hot boy!... well, imagine if you will the feeling of being pantsed in the cafeteria. i made some feeble attempts at recovering my dignity, but at this point i was pretty much what a certain sniper would call, "an apology for myself." after a very minor recovery, well people, i ran. it's sad to say, but i retreated. i needed to regroup. prepare for a counter-offensive. to be quite honest, i'm still not sure what i meant. but when i figure it out, let me be clear. i will THROW DOWN!

Seth Sucks

From this title you'd think I hate this guy. But really............he just sucks.