I wish Andrew WK were my life coach.

I will be in Chicago May 21-27.  Sadly it is not for IML but for a parent health update.

So I will probably be doing little outside of the Belmont/Cumberland area, but I will be oppressively bored and unhappy!  So local bars are definitely a good option.  I will be back briefly in Sept. too.

Those of you in Central IL, and possibly KY and TN will get a jennyvisit in Sept.  Details to follow.

Is there a place I can move with less vegetation and fewer trees than NYC?  Because clearly there’s too many here, as I want to poke myself in the eye every 12 seconds.  Stupid trees.

Why is it cheaper to fly from NYC to Moline, IL than from NYC to CHICAGO, even when there is a layover IN Chicago.  You know, Chicago, busiest airport in the freaking country?

If I just buy the Moline ticket and get off in Chicago will people think I am a terrorist?

I assume this is impossible, but does anyone know any way to get internet access (dsl at least) without a contract?  I could supply the router and such, but I am hoping to work from home at my dad’s house and he doesn’t have a computer.  I don’t want to start a yearlong contract for him, obviously.  I am wondering if I could just move my plan over?  But I think that probably won’t work.  Anyone have any experience with this?

And he lives in a building of old people, so no one there has wireless I can steal.  And while I CAN work from Panera, I also have to be on hour plus conference calls so that won’t really work.

I love postcards.  I always write them when on vacation but I almost never send them.  I am thinking of working on that by sending someone a postcard once a week.  Would you like to get postcards?  If so, send me your address at snailmailpostcards at gmail.  Even if you know I know your address, send it there as a sign up.  Potentially I will be taking pics of the postcards I send.  It’s like the opposite of PostSecret!  PostNotSecret.

Dear Allergies,

Though I deeply respect your interest in the recreation of Classical Greek drama,  it is really unnecessary to use your powers to make me want to constantly claw out my own eyes.  Pick on some other schmo.  Maybe one who has slept with their mother.

Toodles,

~J

with gravy

via E

If only we could involve drawn butter….

From Genie, an interesting story, with a more amazing quotation:

“It’s unfortunate that anyone whose name ends in a vowel is connected with organized crime,” Onesto said at the court hearing.

By which I think he MEANS to say it’s unfortunate that people THINK that, not that people whose last name end in vowels actually ARE in the mob.  Or at least I hope.

Dear Germany, Finland, & Austria,

Thanks for taking the heat off of America.   You have been upping the crazy recently.  Sure, we have school shootings, but you have been kicking it old school.  Which suits you, since you are America Old School.  First you had your own school shooting, Finland.  Then you, Austria, had the second kids raised in an incest cellar episode.  The story doesn’t even make sense–there’s about eight parts of the story that seem impossible (who doesn’t go in their cellar for 22 years?).  And it’s the second time it happened there!  Is Flowers in the Attic available in German translation?  Because I bet it would be selling like hotcakes right now.

And then today, frozen babies found by their siblings in Germany.  What is going on Europe?   Is the crazy tied to the Euro to dollar ratio and it’s finally swung around to you in a big way?  Or are you just so bored with the American political news you had to step it up?  I mean the rest of the world is trying with volcano eruptions and Earthquakes in the Midwestern US, and the crazy fundie mormons, but kudos, Europe.  Way to school us.

All my love,

~J

heart.

on the way to my house, a much overdue new bed.

By popular demand, I will recount my awesome experience at the Dolly Parton show at Radio City Music Hall.  I went with my friend Jared who had recently gotten back from tour.  In Nashville, Jared graciously picked up some George Jones’ “Good on Everything Sauce.”  On the way to the show Jared picked up some yellow printing ink as well.

Why do you care about these facts?  Because Radio City does not like liquids in bottles.  The security man and I had a little discussion and he was going to take my George Jones sauce until I said, “OH man!  It’s for BBQ!”  The man totally respected this.  He was completely confused by the printing ink, and allowed it as well.

Our seats were technically “obscured view” which apparently means “awesome, balcony center behind the sound board.”  There was no opener.  Dolly was AMAZING.  She played seven instruments.  At one point, I turned to Jared and said, “What’s next, a harp?” only to have Dolly PULL OUT AN AUTOHARP.

Unlike most big stars she played all her big hits, and three songs off the new album (Backwoods Barbie, Better Get to Livin, and Jesus and Gravity).  I most wanted to hear “Why’d You Come in Here Lookin’ Like That” which was the second song she played.  Her voice was amazingly on point the whole night.  Her chattiness between songs was hilarious.  She thanked everyone for spending their hard earned dough on her.

She played “Jolene” and then mentioned that there were a lot of men dressed as Dolly in the audience.  She said she should have sung it as “Drag Queen.”  The audience was probably the most vociferous and excited I have ever seen, and Dolly seemed to agree.  She had a great band too, but sadly the only duet she did was “Islands in the Stream.”  She did “Brother Love’s Travelin’ Salvation Show” too, which I had never heard performed by anyone other than Neil Diamond.

Dolly did comment on how there’s not a whole lot of country music in nyc anymore which struck a chord in me.  From the reading/documentary watching I have been doing, it seems like there was a time when you had to make it in NYC to be a big country/folk singer, and that there was a huge country scene here.  There seems to be a country resurgence here at the moment, but I wonder why there was this big anti-NYC movement in the 70s/80s espoused by Buck Owens (I Wouldn’t Live in NYC (If They Gave Me the Whole Dang Town)) and Hank Jr. (Country Boy Can Survive and If Heaven Ain’t a Lot Like Dixie).  What changed?  Maybe it was Nashville sound or something, but I have to say I know a lot more rabid country music fans here than anywhere else I have lived.

Basically if you get the chance to see her, go do it.  And tell me if the audience is 100% gay men and their moms like it is here.

From my mom, on the phone this morning:

“Why do gay men like Dolly Parton? Well she’s nice.  Gay men are nice people.  The women are usually bitches though, I think.  You know <insert one gay man I know here> and he’s nice, right?”

I never thought I would see Spike Lee tell someone to stop talking about racial issues.  What would Mookie say?

So last night I was boiling some water on my gas stove and I spilled water into the burner. The burner went out ad would not reignite. The burners on the right side of the range are fine and work normally. The left side–not so much. When I turn them on, gas comes out but they do not light. I turned them all off and thought I would just wait until it dried itself off. Now I sort of smell gas once in a while. Is this paranoia, or is there any possible way a gas stove completely shut off would exhibit this behavior? It seems illogical to me. I called the gas company and they agreed with me, but I am freaked.

EDITED TO ADD

Let me rephrase. The nonlighting of half of my burners is not the concern. The fact that my house smells like gas a day after I spilled water inside is. I have aired it out. I have looked under the hood and nothing is lit, but it doesn’t appear anything should be–I am pretty sure this oven has an electric ignitor. I am not lighting anything until it doesn’t smell like gas anymore.  Also the oven and other burners are still lit, so I don’t think the pilot light would be out anyway.

I called and asked the gas man, but he said it would be fine after it dries out, though he didn’t address the fact that it smells like gas. If it still does so tonight I will call again. But I guess my direct question is, if I get water inside the range is there any reason it should smell like gas for a day later? It seems like there’s nothing that spilling water in should trigger to let gas leak.

Thanks for the help!

Please submit your crazy irrational tics to my dear friends at My Pet Crazy.

My friend Claire requested I answer this meme:

1. Just how lazy are you?

Very. I have no sense of discipline. I have found a way to quickly and efficiently not walk up a couple of flights of stairs in my local subway station sans elevator.

2. What are you going on and on about these days?

Hmm. I am back on the conjoined twins kick, but I have been talking a lot about my recent visit to the L. Ron Hubbard museum.

3. Your husband/significant someone always calls it a crackpot theory, but you know you’re really onto something. Tell, tell, tell!

Being single means no one criticizes my crackpot theories! HA! My crackpot theory regards the Beach Boys actually being a punk band a la the Ramones. Also I am pretty sure AA is a scary cult, but I don’t think it’s crackpot and a lot of people agree but it’s one of those things you can’t say without people freaking on you.

4. Have you ever eaten a half a hard boiled egg that you found on the floor, and then absentmindedly shaken salt directly into your mouth to chase it?

No, but I have picked something up off the floor I thought was something tasty but was in fact plastic. Oh, the shame.

5. What did you really screw up this year?

Um, hmmm….seeing doctors regularly.

6. What did you really get right?

I think I am getting better at professional networking.  And dating. Go me!

Electric Six is to dancing as Andrew WK is to partying.

Discuss.

I never see anyone famous, mainly because I do not pay attention. I do enjoy the weird tension when a famous person does walk down the street and people pretend to not know who they are. I did see someone famous today so here’s my list of sightings thus far:

• Malcolm Gladwell (outside of the Gourmet Garage. I had previously met him at a book signing, so this was a TOTAL letdown. But the hair was awesome.)
• Kid Rock (in the elevator at work)
• Three Six Mafia (work elevator)
• Marky Ramone (in the audience at CBGB)
• Dustin Diamond (walking out of a Persian restaurant near the Whitney with his hand in a girl’s pants)
• Martin Scorcese (outside of the Pod Hotel, walking with grocery bag)
• Al Sharpton (today, outside of a parking garage/public library across from MOMA)
• Ira Glass (outside of a subway stop on the UWS, talking to a friend about how weird it is when fans recognize him.  I am not going to lie, I had to repress screaming like a Beatles fan)

This would seem to say I should only go to work and art museums.

New Yorker sightings I would love to have:

• Anderson Cooper
• Woody Allen
• An Olsen twin
• Lou Reed
• Chuck Klosterman

though maybe not in the way I would have liked.

me: I swear a lot

friend: men like that.  it means you put out.

Correlation?

The idea that one tragedy means that decades of self-regulation won’t ever work is bullshit.

If you lived in Italy, but grew up in Germany, and you came to New York City, what is the food you’d be LEAST likely to choose to eat?  Probably Italian.  Yet, that’s exactly what the Pope is getting.  Poor Pope.  Get the guy a knish!  Or some Asian fusion!  Some cheesecake!   Who takes a visitor out for their own food?

Also are people really afraid someone’s going to poison the Pope’s food?  What is this 1600?   Does the Pope wield and power whatsoever?  I am still exceedingly perplexed why anyone who isn’t Catholic cares about this.

I like to cook.  I am persnickety about certain cooking tools.  But I have never bought good knives.  Because my knife skills suck.  Suck so hard.  My dad, having spent a life doing foot surgery, cooking, and working in the family grocery, has the best knife skills ever.  He also hates waste, so my poor, poor knife skills attacking a steak he has cooked properly make him weep.

Now, let me use a cracker on some seafood, and I will eviscerate that thing cleanly and efficiently.   But the physics of all knives bewilders me.

Which is why cutting things early this morning has resulted in blood and adrenaline and a bandage that I am scared to look under.  I hoped on the train I wouldn’t spring a leak and be “that bleeding freak who passed out on me.”  Mission accomplished.

While looking for a news story about a cougar found roaming the streets of Chicago, I was suprised to find the high number of websites for “cougar hunting.”  Apparently some people consider women “cougars” when they are only 34!  That seems young to me, though another definition was “anyone more than 7 years your age.”  Frightening.  Go find out where urban cougars hang out in your city here.

I love drastic double meanings in language.  Keeps me amused on the internet, and in business.  Amen!

While my heart is mainly hardened to most proposal stories, this one really got me. I mean a proposal with programming and Bejeweled!? It may be even dorkier than my friends’ proposal being caught by someone else on YouTube (see around 3:20).

*****Edited to add the best pickup line ever, by Simon, “So, you like casual gaming?  How about casual sex?”

I will be in DC the weekend of Apr. 25 around Dupont Circle.  While I have technically been to DC, I found it bewildering in its labyrinthine Orwellianness.  DC makes me want to rock back and forth, autistically.  A town based around people who loooooove rules is frightening for me.  Perhaps I have it all wrong, but if only I could figure out how to get anywhere it would help.  Or if anyone who I asked directions of knew how to get anywhere.  Or if everyone in every bar wasn’t wearing a blue blazer and watching CNN.

This is to say, if you are there, we should have brunch or something.  I am thinking of going to the Smithsonian.  I might actually go look at the mall or white house or something seeing as I spent 5 days there and saw neither last time.

But there will be eating and drinking on the subway.  Because no one tells me I can’t drink somewhere.  NOBODY.  It is my Bob-given right to hydrate, dagnabit.