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?
Monday, May 28, 2007
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.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, March 30, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 7, 2007
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.
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.
Monday, January 29, 2007
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.
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.
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