jamelah.net

Thursday, July 31, 2003

but it's so dreamy...

last night, i had a lovely, run of the mill phone conversation with a boy about lovely, run of the mill things, like camping. and dogs. later, i went to sleep and dreamt that the boy i was talking to was not the boy i was talking to, but was instead an irish pirate named ken. and the only thing that bothered me about it was the fact that he never called me "matey".





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Tuesday, July 29, 2003

truth in advertising

the thing is, someone had to say, "oh, now that's a good slogan!"









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Monday, July 28, 2003

some vacation, huh?

okay, everything's back to normal. blogathon posts are here. i will go back to updating whenever i feel like it. the end.





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Sunday, July 27, 2003

9:00 a.m.

well, here it is. the end. shawoo.

actually, i'm remarkably awake right now. i guess the caffeine that i've been practically mainlining has finally kicked in and now i'm just ready to go go go go go!!! good thing, too... i'm going to breakfast with my family as soon as i click the post button.

anyway, i have some people to send love to:

a) my sponsors: love. to. my. sponsors. (i heart you.)

14) people who kept me awake: krista & midnite, thanks for the chatter.

blue) commenters: thanks for dropping by and finding something to say. especially srah, who miraculously found all sorts of things to say.

pi*r2) those who had questions for the 8 ball. i thank you. but most importantly, the 8 ball thanks you.

one train leaves philadelphia traveling west at 45 mph and another train leaves chicago traveling east at 55 mph) litkickers, thanks for the suggestions.

f) diet coke, this wouldn't have been possible without you and your lovely, internal organ-eroding bubbly goodness.

29) amish people - you are truly mystical makers of delicious pie.

42) napster, audiogalaxy and kazaa: thanks for the mp3s that make up the mix cds i've been listening to.

okay, i think i've gotten everybody. i hope so. if not, feel free to berate me. also, a big thanks to the blogathon team for all the hard work they've done to make this event a reality. i'm glad i was able to babble my way through it.

i think i might take a mini blog vacation now. but you'll live. i mean, think about it. there are 48 posts here. that's more than i usually do in two months, so you've got plenty to keep you entertained for at least a week. i will eventually set this up as its own page, separate from the regular blog. i wish i had done this before, but live and learn.

anyway, i'm going to stop typing now. hasta la whenever.





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8:30 a.m.

one thing i constantly find myself wondering about is why america doesn't smell like anything. well, it can if you ever find yourself driving through farming country with your windows down on a hot day, but generally, this place is devoid of scent. when i lived in venice, there was a smell around every corner. it was perfectly normal while walking to class to think, "hmmm. poop. freshly baked bread. fish. canal." all within the space of a city block.

here, on the days when i walk to the museum, i don't smell anything. except occasional exhaust fumes from a passing truck.

it's weird. that's all.





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8:00 a.m.

questions for the 8 ball: (this time 8 ball answers in red.)

will weezer girl sleep tonight?
my reply is no. (sorry about that.)

will violet moon fairy win the contest?
yes definitely.

bananas: will they fly in the future?
as i see it yes.

will studiocoach be proposed to by the person who is not supposed to know about this particular question?
outlook good.

there you go. peace out.







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7:30 a.m.

looks like it'll be a cloudy day. good sleeping weather. except i feel like going for a walk. i am so tired of sitting. i didn't know that sitting could be such a taxing job for the butt, but now i know. it can. oh yes. it can. my shoulders also hurt. need to stretch. will stretch after posting this. i've been simultaneously zoning out and moping to jeff buckley. but now i'm listening to something else, so i'm better.

except for the sore butt.

and i'm sure you were so interested in knowing about how my ass was making it through this.

anyway, enough of this assiness. i've had sort of a running theme throughout all of this, if you can count me saying random things about australia every once in awhile as a running theme. but i remembered something else. see, when i was a kid, my favorite book was alexander and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, because i was certain that this alexander boy was living my life. except for the brothers. i didn't have any of those. every time something horrible would happen to alexander, he would say that he was going to move to australia... so moving to australia was my purpose in life when i was about six or so. haven't lived up to that one yet.

but if that bridge ever happens, then perhaps.

yeah, okay. stretch time.





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7:00 a.m.

daylight! yeehaw!

i'm kind of surprised that i made it this far without ranting. i mean, yes... i have a couple of hours left, but i'm feeling remarkably un-rant-like.

and seriously, is there any better vocal than jeff buckley singing "hallelujah"? (any answer other than "no" is wrong, by the way.)





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6:30 a.m.

ok, i've moved on to jeff buckley. because apparently i feel like moping now.





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6:00 a.m.

i'm generally angry when i'm awake at this time. but right now i'm looking forward to the sunrise.

just had a good memory. don't want to tell the details, really. but it's about krakow. and buying lipstick. and that look in that boy's hazel eyes. ah.

oh, and there was another question for the 8 ball: (answer in bold.)

will hester get to sleep?
it is decidedly so.

there you have it.

now i'm feeling kinda hyper. annnnnd wheeeeee!





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5:30 a.m.

right, then... i keep finding these ridiculous pictures of myself when i was a kid.

here we go.... glamorous:



and no, i don't know what that thing on my head is, either.





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5:00 a.m.

do i really think that dancing and blogging are the two greatest things in life? not so much. don't get me wrong, i like dancing. a lot. and i like blogging. i might not like blogging so much for like, a week after this is over, but i just keep on typing, so that says something.

anyway, i'm on what now? my fifty third can of diet coke? cigarette number nine hundred and sixty four? i don't know. i've lost track. but i feel more awake now. i don't think my third wind has kicked in yet, but it's bound to anytime now.

so anybody still reading this? if so, i beseech you... say something to me.





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4:30 a.m.

i don't feel like i'm here anymore. i mean, i'm obviously here and listening to that bad party mix again, yet i am curiously absent. i'm not sure exactly where else i am.... but i guess i need to do some more crazy dancing to bring me back to the present.

and there's nothing better to dance to than the bad party mix! woo! dancing and blogging! the two greatest things in life. and i'm doing them both! well, not simultaneously, but still.





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4:00 a.m.

so it's 4:00. woohoo!

i forgot what i was going to say.





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3:30 a.m.

wow, keywords are entertaining. my current favorite search term someone googled most likely in the hopes of finding something completely different than my site:

"butt sticking out car window."

yeah, i don't know. well, actually now i do. i just googled "butt sticking out car window" and one of my stories about satan was the first thing on the list. hooray for my high google standing, i guess.

huh.

but anyway, the page with this story on it has gotten around 100 hits. and that's the top keyword. so does this mean that more than one person has actually gone to google and typed "butt sticking out car window"? really? and then they end up on my site? man.

wow. the internet is truly a magical place.





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3:00 a.m.

i've decided that i need to stop saying that i'm going to come up with something to say by a certain time. because then when the time rolls around, i realize that i've spent the entire last hour staring at the wall or something, which means that i've come up with nothing.

however, even though i have nothing, i'm going to pretend like i have something. i've probably posted this picture before, but not recently (like, not today) and it's funny... so... without further ado, i give you tony danza and his stellar advice:






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2:30 a.m.

i thought my second wind had died, but i decided to start listening to this mix cd of all the pop songs i learned in italian class and suddenly i am full of energy again. it's all about the ligabue.

i'm trying to conjure a memory or a funny story or something for 3:00. we'll see.





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2:00 a.m.

first, the picture:



now, the story:

back a month ago, the weekend of the shindig, we all ended up at a karaoke bar. firecracker decided that she and i should dance. and the song was "me and mrs. jones." quality. anyway, so... we're dancing, right? and i notice this guy sitting at a table at the corner of the dance floor, staring at us and elbowing his friends. i said something to firecracker about this, but we just laughed and continued singing along with the wonderful, wonderful karaoke. approximately two seconds later, i felt this hand on my back. i turned and it was the guy, who was grabbing my hand. then firecracker's hand. then he was trying to dance with us. so firecracker removed her hand from his and started dancing with me again. the following conversation happened:

guy: oh, do you want to be alone?
firecracker: yes.
guy: well, okay. that's actually better for me.

nice.

wait, no. not nice. i believe gross is the word i was looking for.





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1:30 a.m.

krista donated these questions from dave (of bald sarcasm) to me:

who?
me, jacinda, sam and erik.

when?
1998. summer. sometimes it's shocking how long ago these things happened, even though they feel like they happened just the other day.

why?
i was in love with erik, so i had to be there. jacinda and i were inseparable, so therefore, she had to be there. erik and sam were always there, i think. this was just something we did in the evenings, and i'd always go home confused.

what?
oh, anything. sitting in sam's garage/room/shanty on the edge of his parents' property. listening to music. smoking too much. talking about what ginsberg meant. staring at each other. being bizarre and young and cryptic and thinking this was the only way to be. watching boys drink gin. waiting for boys to finish making ramen noodles. listening to the longest song in the universe. laughing. "maybe we should tape a bunch of thick phone books to our bodies and fight each other with samurai swords until we get to the yellow pages..." weirdness. tension. guitar picks. steve albini.

the most perfect way to spend a saturday night.





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1:00 a.m.

midnite, the australian wonder-artist (have i mentioned lately that i heart australia?) told me to:

talk to us of roses
and what you think of rabbits
and the last time you swam in the sea
and why books are good for kids

and i think i can do that. so, here it is.

talk to us of roses
i like roses. when i was a kid, we lived in a house that had a rosebush right outside of my bedroom window. i will always remember waking up in the middle of the night one time in june and looking outside and seeing a blossom against the dark sky. i can't even come close to describing how beautiful it was, so i'm not going to try. even so, my favorite flowers are from the chrysanthemum family: daisies, black-eyed susans, pink coneflowers.

and what you think of rabbits
rabbits are okay. when i was six, my neighbor had a pet rabbit. i was jealous.

and the last time you swam in the sea
hm. i'm not sure i've actually ever done any swimming in the sea. i've done plenty of swimming in lakes... including lake michigan, which is really frickin' big. i walked along the shore of the atlantic ocean when i was 11 and on vacation in virginia. i remember the way the sand would disappear from underneath my feet and how the sensation thrilled me (and made me fall over.) the last time i was anywhere near anything that could be technically called a sea, i was in italy. my friends and i hung out on the lido, soaking up some sun near the adriatic sea and being ogled by a fat italian in a black speedo. the next time i was on the sea, my friends and i took a boat around the island of capri. we spent the whole journey afraid of death. but at the same time, it was beautiful. we could've jumped out of the boat and gone swimming in one of the grottoes, but i think we were all too afraid of jerry's boating skills to leave our spots. so we stayed where we were. if i ever make it back to capri, though, i've promised myself some swimming time.

and why books are good for kids
books are as necessary as vegetables and vitamins for strong, healthy children. giving kids the tools to imagine is important. there is more to life than the physical.

okay, hasta la 1:30.





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12:30 a.m.

okay, not a picture of the jamelahfro, but still pretty good. this is from when i was three years old, and as i remember it, i was doing an impression of yosemite sam. my mother swears that i was trying to look like my dad. in any case, i made a handlebar mustache out of a balloon and stuck it to my face.

yes. i stuck a balloon to my face. because logically, that would be exactly like having a mustache.

how awesome and insane am i? see, it started when i was young.



they're doing a best of will ferrell on saturday night live right now, and i just heard this in a harry caray sketch: "i've always been a worrier. that's why my friends call me 'whiskers.'" will ferrell kills me. and the quotation seemed appropriate.

the end. (until 1 a.m.)





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12:00 a.m.

disappointment:

instead of blow drying, i decided to let my hair go curly after the shower, and my world-famous jamelahfro is failing to materialize. i'm like a shampoo commercial. i've got these fat, placid ringlets, instead of the chaos that that normally materializes. this is nice and all, but not nearly as funny.

but have no fear. i'm going to find a picture of myself when i was eight, sometime after i got that ill-fated mushroom haircut. oh, the hair woes of a fool such as i...





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Saturday, July 26, 2003

11:30 p.m.

i'm back in business. i think it must be the eleventh can of diet coke that's breathed new life into me. thank jesus for diet coke. amen.

speaking of christ, it's about time he made an appearance on the blog. it's been awhile.

say hello to the lord:





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11:00 p.m.

did i say i was going to have something to say at 11:00? i was just kidding about that.

the truth of the matter is that i'm sitting here with my headphones on... the cd stopped playing a good ten minutes ago, and so i'm listening to nothing. with my headphones on.

yeah. quirky, huh?

ok, i reached down and hit "play" so i'm not as much of an idiot as i was two seconds ago. the thing is, i can't help but wonder when i turned into such a pansy. i never used to sleep. my last semester of college, i went an entire week without sleeping. yes, by the end of it i was completely insane and i couldn't stop laughing about things that weren't funny in the slightest, but still. i stayed awake for a whole damn week. now it's 11:00 and i'm like "uh, yeah. bedtime?" and i'd better get over it because i have several hours left.

damn. getting old sucks.





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10:30 p.m.

so i was feeling all refreshed and everything from the shower until i sat back down in this chair. now i feel less than all refreshed. refreshed, yes. but not all refreshed.

there is an important difference.

it is obviously time to listen to james brown. uh huh.

at 11:00, i'll have something to write about again.





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10:00 p.m.

okay, i'm going to go shower. read this if you want to. the story about marlon brando is quality.





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9:30 p.m.

i'm currently only $10 behind my personal goal for this. (of course, going over the personal goal would be okay, too.) i was just looking at my site stats, so i know people are coming and reading. why not give a dollar?

you have a dollar, don't you?





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9:00 p.m.

i have recently been refreshed by a delicious, life-sustaining meal of vegetable lasagna and pie. i heart pie. this particular pie comes from a local amish bakery, and it is of the cherry variety. it is also of the sassy variety.

mmmm. i love it when pie is sassy.

now i am calling my grandma.

now i am hanging up the phone.

how about that?

does anybody remember the marcia brady dance from the brady bunch movie? because i was so doing that a minute ago.





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8:30 p.m.

a question from vaselina: (8 ball goes back to italics.)

am i ever going to clean up this apartment? cuz right now, from my bed to my bath, it's just a hop, skip, and a jump.
outlook good

yep. the 8 ball speaks the truth, ms. glamatron. at some point, your abode is gonna sparkle!

as for life... i personally recommend some happy tunes and loud singing. perhaps some crazy dancing. not good dancing. crazy dancing. there's a difference, and this difference is essential to the kind of goofiness that is an important factor in cracking through the black clouds of blahness that tend to overtake things.

yes, there's that. screaming at and/or throwing inanimate objects helps, too. sometimes moments of fleeting joy are all it takes.





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8:00 p.m.

11 frickin' hours. you know, people say things to me about how i spend all day every day in front of a computer, but it ain't true. because today i am spending all day in front of the computer (save for breaks where i get up and dance, dance, dance) and it's painful.

anyway. question for the 8 ball from srah: (the 8 ball chooses to answer backwards.)

what has 8 arms and 8 legs?
.tbuod a tuohtiw

there you have it.

by the way, srah, you're one of those albion people i never knew but would hear about. when i was in venice, a couple of the girls i went to school with (erin lewis & jillian longheier) hung out with you on one of our semester breaks, i think. yep.





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7:30 p.m.

a question for the 8 ball from alicia: (the 8 ball has decided to answer in underlined text this time)

why is an hour like a misshapen head that's just falling apart?
you may rely on it.

so there you go, alicia. the 8 ball has spoken. hope that helps clear things up.

in other news, i am listening to the theme from shaft and enjoying a cup of peach yogurt. well, i was enjoying the cup of peach yogurt until i found a couple of black specks in it. now i'm having nothing to do with the peach yogurt. i don't know why eating yogurt is so traumatic these days.

but you know, it's not a big deal.... because shaft is the black private dick who's the sex machine to all the chicks.

can you dig it?





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7:00 p.m.

okay, made the template a wee bit more blogathon-ish.

so now you should pledge a dollar, or something.

for this half hour, all i really have to say is that sometimes, there is immeasurable joy in listening to erasure.





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6:30 p.m.

i just stared at my right foot for thirty minutes.

and it's not even late yet.





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6:00 p.m.

since nobody else seems to have any pressing questions for my magic 8 ball, i've decided to ask it a few things:
(8 ball replies in italics.)

someone once said to me, "sometimes you've just gotta bury the bodies and keep on livin'." is this true?
most likely.

will there ever be a bridge connecting north america with australia?
without a doubt.

is it true what they say?
my reply is no.

say i wanted to be a geologist, but i thought plate tectonics was a big lie. would i still be able to achieve my dream?
better not tell you now.

well, i don't actually want to be a geologist. i was just asking. anyway, does it really get any better than "come on eileen"?
it is decidedly so.

is now a good time for me to eat that leftover kung pao chicken in my fridge?
as i see it yes.

awesome. peace out, yo.





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5:30 p.m.

while i'm in the mood for posting pictures...



*begin edit* by the way, that's a business card. it looks better in print than it does digitally, but whatever. still fabulous. could you imagine saying "here's my card" and then handing that to someone? oh, the wonder of business cards. *end edit* anyway, now that i'm in the graphic design business, i can make things like this, and call it work.

life truly is a surprising, beautiful thing...





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5:00 p.m.

shamelessly...



pledge and you win this. maybe i'll even throw in a plastic unicorn or a fake tattoo. you never know. i'm kooky like that.





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4:30 p.m.

ok, in the past half hour, i did some crunches. then i ate some pie. way to be counterproductive. woo!

i want to know why several people on my street are painting their houses beige. the same shade of beige, no less. i don't think houses should be obnoxiously-colored, but why beige? the most boring color on earth? and why the same shade? like there isn't a range of boring in the spectrum of beige?

what? was the paint store having a sale? "make your house as ugly as possible! now, for $49.95!"





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4:00 p.m.

okay. i've moved on to mudhoney. mudhoney makes me remember the movie singles for some reason. are they on the soundtrack? i can't remember. i have the soundtrack somewhere, but i don't feel like looking for it. anyway, the movie singles makes me think of high school (even though it came out before i was in high school). but not all of high school. just my friend gretchen, and gretchy's nasty-ass ale, and how painfully bad i am at mini golf.

i don't know why. but there i am, hit by nostalgia once again.





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3:30 p.m.

the look.... of blog....



damn, yo. that's not good at all.





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3:00 p.m.

a request from his name isn't really jim vinny:

me: magic 8 ball, will jim vinny get lucky tonight?
8 ball: very doubtful.
me: ouch.





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2:30 p.m.

a sort of question for my magic 8 ball: (it was really something else, but i turned it into a question for my magic 8 ball)

me: magic 8 ball, what will the future be like, considering the fact that there will definitely be contact with an alien species within the next 20 years?
8 ball: it is certain.
me: the future is certain?
8 ball: ask again later.
me: yeah, it's later. so, the future is certain?
8 ball: outlook not so good.
me: right then... contact with aliens within the next 20 years is certain?
8 ball: you may rely on it.
me: neat. hey, magic 8 ball... did you know that to alien species, we're aliens?
8 ball: as i see it yes.
me: awesome. i'm glad we had this chat.

if anybody else has any questions for the magic 8 ball to answer... comment or e-mail me and i will be sure to ask them for you. because i'm a nice girl like that.





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2:00 p.m.

do you ever think you make up memories? like, i just had this memory of this time i was in munich with my friend melissa, and this turkish guy offered us 50 marks if we'd make a phone call and tell someone something about a necklace. and i'm not sure it really happened. i mean, i remember the guy really clearly, and i remember following him through the munich train station feeling like i was doing something illegal, but all the other details are too hazy. this could mean one of two things:

1. this never really happened.
2. it really happened, but all the beer i drank later that evening at the hofbrau haus obscured the memory to the point that i would never ever be able to recall it accurately.

some things i do remember about munich:





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1:30 p.m.

a question/topic from litkicks:

what do books mean to you. now, then, and in the future. have you ever slept with a book under your pillow for comfort? how would your life be different without books, do you think?

quite simply, words are my life. books are full of words. i heart books.

more complexly, i can't think of a time when i wasn't reading something. well, except for when i was an illiterate two-year-old... but then i had people read books to me. books have opened all sorts of doors to me, have inspired me to think, have pushed me toward all of this writing i do now...etc. etc. etc. i don't think i've ever slept with a book under my pillow for comfort, but i have fallen asleep while reading too many times to count, because the words were the last thing i wanted with me before i drifted off to dreamland. i can't imagine my life without books, because books are precious to me. in my life now, they surround me... sort of like a worn, tattered security blanket. i never resold any of my books from college because i wanted to keep them always.

right now i'm on a return trip through on the road, and afterwards, i'm gonna need something to read. i guess i could finish the unbearable lightness of being, which is just sitting around making fun of me because i didn't read past part one. suggestions would be welcome.





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1:00 p.m.

okay, after writing that last post, i had to change cds. and it's not that all the songs on that cd are bad... it's just the combination of them together that makes for a truly "what the hell am i listening to?" experience.

anyway, now i'm listening to a cd by an australian band called the cruel sea. my friend jason sent it me a little over a year ago, and it's really good. and since i am apparently all about australia love in my blog today... i'll talk a little bit about jason and the fun things we send to each other in the mail.

see, jason is from perth, western australia (though now he's in some mining town where he can get these really classy beer holders depicting humping kangaroos) and last february, he was complaining about his girlfriend playing the macy gray song "i try" over and over and over again. so i told him i was going to make him a cd... and about a week later, i shipped off a package containing "jason's mystery mix" which consisted of "i try" 19 times. since that time, we've been sending things back & forth. he almost always sends me nicer things than i send him... like this cruel sea cd or the books about jesus by australian writer andrew masterson, which are absolutely hilarious.

about a month ago, i sent him a package with my copy of house of leaves and a poe cd in it, and in return, i got christmas in july with a huge envelope containing the aforementioned beer holder, a coffee cup, a keychain, a mousepad (with a monster truck on it), postcards and pictures. so to be nice, i sent him a copy of a beverly hills 90210 book. you know, so he'd have something to read after finishing house of leaves.

it's a bizarre kind of fun, but i enjoy our correspondence. and on top of everything, jason is an ace letter writer. it's nice to know someone who writes great letters.

speaking of fun mail... i just got a package from israel. it contains two handmade collections of poetry by a great lady and incredible poet named judih. (you can check out some of judih's work by popping over to the swiss poem account collection.)

hurrah!





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12:30 p.m.

bad music is the only way to go, i've discovered. i found my worst mix cd ever, and it's sustaining me. this is what's on it:

1. no diggity - blackstreet
2. where it's at - beck
3. get this party started - p!nk
4. hot in herre - nelly
5. mmmbop - hanson (yeah, i know. but it's catchy. shut up.)
6. the bad touch - the bloodhound gang
7. too funky - george michael
8. i want you to want me (or something like that) - letters to cleo
9. i think i love you - david cassidy
10. i'm not stalking you - andy dick
11. shake your bon bon - ricky martin
12. praise you - fatboy slim
13. bump bump bump - b2k
14. faith - george michael
15. intergalactic - beastie boys
16. new pollution - beck
17. too sexy - right said fred
18. supermodel - ru paul
19. devil's haircut - beck

so other than the fact that i was in an odelay phase when i made this cd... uh... yeah. i call it "the bad party mix" because let's face it: if someone played a cd with a track list like that at a party, everyone would leave.





posted by jamelah
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12:00 p.m.

three hours, yo.

now it is time for me to pay homage to the greatest t-shirt ever. yes. my writing shirt. here it is:


my writing shirt, with a guest appearance by my sheets.


my mom bought this shirt for me when i was 13 years old. she picked it up one day when she was in ann arbor. now, i'm not particularly superstitious or anything, but i have worn this t-shirt while undertaking every major piece of writing i've ever done. the cotton is old and smooth. there's paint on the left sleeve. there's a hole in the front, directly under the point in the M (and just the one hole... which is pretty amazing, since the shirt is over 10 years old now). i've written news stories, a long travel writing project, several spanish papers, a thesis, various and sundry english papers, fiction, poetry, all sorts of things. and this shirt has been on my back.

i need very little in life: diet coke, cigarettes, the occasional bottle of bourbon, potatoes, writing utensils, and my writing shirt.

i love this shirt. if it ever falls apart (which i'm beginning to doubt... it's been through a lot and still it remains loyal), i will mourn. then i'll frame the sleeve, or something.





posted by jamelah
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11:30 a.m.

the crispy golden hashbrown has to be the greatest invention known to humankind. why? because it is crispy. and golden. and made of potatoes. i haven't quite figured out how to make the crispy golden hashbrown in the sanctity of my own kitchen yet... something about always nearly burning the house down seems to prevent me from accomplishing this task.

anyway, my mother just brought me breakfast, and that breakfast included the crispy golden hashbrown, and oh, the joy of the potato. i'm not quite sure why potatoes are so delicious and life-sustaining, but damn, yo. i haven't found a type of potato food that i don't enjoy. (except for raw potato food. that is vomit-inducing.) i've said it before, and i'll say it again... the potato is to jamelah what the shrimp is to bubba. baked, mashed, fried, boiled, with gravy, with butter, hashbrowned, american fries, french fries, cooked in basil and olive oil... whatever. the potato is miraculous. all hail.

now that i have consumed a crispy golden hashbrown, i'm good to go for hours.





posted by jamelah
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11:00 a.m.

so what's the deal with having to fly to places like europe or australia? i wanna roadtrip, baby. i wanna load my car full of cheetos and embarrassing cds and cartons of cigarettes and important magazines like vogue and cosmo and drive all the damn way to australia. it couldn't take too long, could it? i mean, when i was a kid we had to drive to arkansas and that took two days (including a stop at a motel for the night). and arkansas is really far. (also pointless to travel to, but that's a different subject entirely.)

now, i like to fly. sort of. i like to look out of the windows. one of my favorite memories in life is flying home from poland and looking out at the ocean of clouds that were all sorts of fantastic colors (like persimmon. persimmon! really.) and feeling all cool and one with the universe and everything. granted, at this point in the trip, i hadn't slept for about 20 hours, and i sitting next to this annoying girl who wanted to chat and kept trying to read my journal. i hated that girl. seriously.

but i digress.

the problem is, there's no way to drive to australia. (i have a theory that i could drive across an ocean with relative ease if i could just go fast enough, because i'd get some awesome hydroplaning action going on. but there are no gas stations in the middle of the ocean, which means that i'd have to work out some fueling on the fly, and i haven't quite figured out all the logistics yet.) there is no bridge that connects north america with australia. why is this? australia is neat. they have kangaroos and stuff. the price of plane tickets to australia is prohibitive to my traveling there. so driving is my only option.

(side note: i'm listening to beck. i heart him.)

i don't think it would be too hard to build an intercontinental bridge. sure, it would cost trillions of dollars and would probably be very difficult to engineer it in a way that would make it structurally sound, but so what? i mean, the united states is spending trillions of dollars on the war in iraq, which is silly. and it's not helping me get to australia.

i propose that the people who would be in charge of this sort of thing get together and have a meeting. a really nice meeting, with fruit trays and fresh bakery rolls, and talk about what it would take to make international travel more of a reality to the people of the world who are either broke or hate to fly. or are broke and hate to fly. or just hate to fly. or are just broke.

you know. jesus, it's not like they're doing anything better with their time. it's gotta be better to build something than to blow something up.





posted by jamelah
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10:30 a.m.

i'm listening to b2k right now. oh, the p. diddy.


oh, the shame.





posted by jamelah
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10:00 a.m.

okay, something:

i don't really get the hype with dvds and why they're supposedly so much better than videos. why? because no matter how people try to convince me that scene selection is so cool, but really, it's not revolutionary or anything. i swear. see, because if i'm watching a video and then i stop the tape because i'm going to get up and do something else, or my grandma calls to talk to me, or whatever, when i press play, the movie's still sitting there, right in the spot where i left it.

i don't get it.

granted, all i watch now are dvds, but that's because when i hooked everything up, i had to do some fancy rigging and the vcr doesn't work anymore. but still. i remember watching the previews on the front of videos that would tell me how i needed to experience a movie on dvd. so i have. several times now, in fact, but... yeah. not really all that different.

i don't know. maybe i just don't love movies enough.





posted by jamelah
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9:30 a.m.

okay, yeah. still nothing good to talk about. i'm trying to jump start my brain. and the only way to do this, obviously, is by listening to rap. because nothing gets the synapses firing like nellyville.





posted by jamelah
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9:00 a.m.

well, let's get this blogathon started. after the (ahem) overwhelming number of write-ins with questions and requests for blog topics, i feel absolutely ready to write for 24 hours. yeah.

anyway, since only god understands the way my brain works, and i didn't sleep so much last night (due to distressing trouble trying to reach the exact perfect sleeping temperature) this should be a most interesting experience. stay tuned.

(i promise to come up with something good to say by 9:30.)





posted by jamelah
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Friday, July 25, 2003

help...

the blogathon starts at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow... which means i'm going to be writing for 24 straight hours. if anybody has something they'd like to read about, or questions they want to ask or anything, well, i'll have lots of time to write about whatever you want. so please, please offer some suggestions.

by the way... if anybody has a dollar or five or a nickel or anything to donate to my charity (book aid), that would be cool, too.





posted by jamelah
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Thursday, July 24, 2003

things i feel like saying right now without explaining them further:





posted by jamelah
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Wednesday, July 23, 2003

plastic makes it possible, and other stories

if i don't actually have to count out the cash and hand it over to another living, breathing human being, then it doesn't seem real. yet, spending money i don't actually have is curiously satisfying. mmmmm. debt. tasty.

okay, there are no other stories. but my hair looked really good today.





posted by jamelah
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Tuesday, July 22, 2003

countdown to botulism

this morning, as i was preparing to peel the foil from the top of my cup of blueberry yogurt, i noticed that it felt like there was a lot of air inside the cup. upon peeling back the foil, the yogurt exploded all over my face.

my first thought was not, "oh shit, i have yogurt on my face." no. it was, "hm. i wonder if i'm going to get botulism."

other than the fact that this points out how there is totally something wrong with my thinking process, i just want to say that so far, i have not had an attack of intestinal strife, but i hear that it can take up to 24 hours for the botulism to work its magic.

stay tuned.





posted by jamelah
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exploring new heights of geekdom

yesterday, i made a font. yes. my own font with which i can type things into programs such as microsoft word. i know what you're thinking, and yes... it's true. i do indeed rule.

now that i've gotten that out of the way, i can say i don't really like this new font all that much. it's okay, but i can do better. so i will. anyway, all of that to say... in a couple of weeks, i'll probably have a section of typefaces available for your own nefarious works. just don't hold me to that "a couple of weeks" thing, okay?





posted by jamelah
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Monday, July 21, 2003

rainy days and manwich always get me down...

it's raining. i have the manwich jingle from around 1986 in my head. such is life.

and while i understand the reasoning behind calling it manwich, i just can't help but think that someone, in a long ago far away production meeting actually said, "mmmmm. manwich. now that sounds appetizing."

do they even make manwich anymore?





posted by jamelah
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Sunday, July 20, 2003

movies i watched recently, and an aside

okay, just like i said i would, i went and saw johnny english on saturday. it made me want to kill myself. now, i'm not going to go into detail about why the director of this film needs to be beaten soundly with his own shoes, but i will say these three things: natalie imbruglia = bad idea, even if john malkovich's accent was that bad on purpose it was painful, and rowan atkinson just wasn't that funny which is odd because generally i think he's great. sure, there were moments, but overwhelmingly... yeah, i wanted to kill myself to make the torture stop.

okay, on to jerry seinfeld: comedian. i had no idea what this was, but i watched the dvd (yes, i finally own a dvd player) and ended up being really glad i did. it's a documentary about what it takes to create a good stand up act, and i have a newfound respect for comedians. this doesn't just show one joke after another, rather, it's about the work that goes into being funny. it's not just about jerry seinfeld either... though i think it would help to appreciate his humor before watching it. i don't have much else to say, but i did enjoy watching this.

and finally, i saw 25th hour, which is a spike lee film starring edward norton. i have mixed feelings about spike lee, but i think this was one of the best i've seen of his. it follows edward norton's character on his last day before going to prison for seven years. some really good acting (the scene in the bathroom mirror works almost like spoken-word poetry) and interesting use of post-9/11 new york city as a character/metaphor. there were a couple of times the movie felt long, but generally, i thought it was well done. (i think maybe, if i let my thoughts about it settle for a few days, it might rank with the pianist as far as movies i've seen recently go. besides, philip seymour hoffman rocks.

now for the aside: i've said some things about this in the past about how i'm going to be the crazy old lady with the broom, yelling at the neighbor kids to get out of her yard. thing is, i don't think i have to wait to get old. let me expand. my driveway is the coolest driveway on my street, because it's very steep and if you're six years old on a bicycle, then nothing's cooler than starting out on top of a hill and rolling down it, picking up incredible speed without even having to pedal. i know. i was a six year old with a bike once too.

anyway, yesterday after returning from the movies, i was in a bad mood. (spending money to see something that's supposed to make me laugh but instead makes me wish for death just so i don't have to watch it anymore seems to have that effect on me.) and we have these neighbor kids, see. they seem to think that our use of the driveway for driving our car in and out is an imposition on their playtime. all very well and good. i don't really care. except i was sitting in my room thinking about... something. i don't know. i sit in my room and think sometimes. and i looked out of my window and the kids were running all around my front yard. don't they have yards of their own? why is my yard better than their respective yards, huh? and then i thought, "fuck, they're going to trample my marigolds." i was all mad and i had to change my shirt (sometimes when i get angry i compulsively change my clothes) and i thought about how easy it would be for me to walk out of my front door and start screaming at them to get off my lawn.

kids are so noisy. now, i think kids are great and all... really. i do. but do they have to be so noisy with all this delight over running and playing stupid games in the summer sun? i don't think so. plus, they're going to trample my flowers. i love my flowers. they bring simple beauty to my otherwise pointless existence. i would be very upset if a bunch of kids with yards of their own destroyed them because they couldn't go play in their yards.

jesus christ. do you see what i mean? i'm totally sincere about all of this. it's not going to take age and widowhood (ha. like i'm ever getting married.) and many many houseplants to make me into this grumpy woman who scares all the kids in her neighborhood. i'm already there! i'm on the edge! i am THISCLOSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my worst nightmare is coming true. kill me now.





posted by jamelah
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Thursday, July 17, 2003

naturally...

i tried to go to nyc this weekend, but then the reality that i'm broke and can't afford to just go places set in and so i'm going to go see johnny english instead. because, you know, going to the movies is cheaper.

and now to completely not follow up on that there first paragraph with this here second (non)paragraph, i'm going to list the songs that have been stuck in my head today. here goes:

1. it's a beautiful life - ace of base
2. your winter - sister hazel
3. she bangs - ricky martin
4. is this desire - pj harvey
5. hey pretty - poe
6. rapture - blondie
7. karma police - radiohead
8. karma chameleon - culture club

yeah, so basically... my head = fucked up radio station.





posted by jamelah
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Tuesday, July 15, 2003

it's like this, see

just because you have a monster truck keychain with a handy little clip thingy on it, it doesn't mean that you should go around clipping your keys to things like, oh, your pants. unless you want your pants to fall off. in which case, i say go for it.





posted by jamelah
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Monday, July 14, 2003

yeah, yeah

i put the comments back. so use them, dammit.





posted by jamelah
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hey! where yo' man at?

walking home from the museum today, i had a charming conversation with an even more charming young man. it went like this:

him: (from across the street) hey! where yo' man at?
me: huh?
him: (crossing street) you don't remember me, do you?
me: no, i don't.
him: you don't remember me?
me: nope, sorry.
him: where you live?
me: my house.
him: where's that?
me: why?
him: you gotta walk by here to get home?
me: yes.
him: alright.
(enter young, agitated, heavily-tattooed guy)
him: what up, man?
guy: it's bullshit man, it's bullshit.
him: what?
guy: people talkin' shit about me, sayin' i wouldn't sleep with that girl because she was on her period, so i smoked crack with her.
me: (silently figuring out the logic of the previous statement.)
him: aw, that's bullshit, man. give me a cigarette.
guy: it's my last one, man. (hands over cigarette.) i gotta go.
(exit young, agitated, heavily-tattooed guy.)
him: so why you actin' all funny, like you're tryin' to get away from me?
me: because i have to go.
him: you got a boyfriend?
me: (wondering when undesirable young men ask that question, what they expect the answer to be.) yes.
him: aw. that's a good reason to go, then. (extends hand for a handshake.) it's been nice talking to you.
me: (shaking his hand) yes, it's been fun. (begin walking away.)
him: hey! i thought you was somebody else.
me: oh.
him: yeah, i thought you was this chick named jodi. you know jodi?
me: no, can't say that i do.
him: aw. i ain't seen her in about 10 years, but you look kinda like her.
me: jodi?
him: yeah.
me: ah.
him: so that's why you don't know me.
me: uh huh.
him: you remember the other day when you was walkin' by and i said somethin' to you and you looked at me like i was crazy?
me: yeah.
him: it's because you don't know me.
me: right.
him: it's been good talkin' to you, though.
me: yes, it's been... nice. (begin walking again.)

-end-


some girls have all the fun. and i am living proof.





posted by jamelah
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Sunday, July 13, 2003

hm

it seems that i'm just overcome with nostalgia for the age of seventeen, or something. today i remembered something, and that memory led to another memory and then another memory and pretty soon i was laughing...

though i know this will make sense to only one other person on the face of the earth, that boy so said, "what's your nub?" and he so expected me to know that he wanted to know my name.





posted by jamelah
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blame photoshop

so i was playing around with photoshop today and discovered some neat tricks and then of course, i had to redesign my site again. i have issues. but anyway, here it is.





posted by jamelah
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Thursday, July 10, 2003

workplace essentials

don't get me wrong, i'm not into feng shui or anything like that. but even so, i believe that there are things that are essential to my workstation, things that make it feel like a good, productive place to... produce work.

examples:


toys



stress relief



stuff to do



assorted necessary items




so you see? these are the things i need around to make sure that i am an effective, on task member of america's workforce.





posted by jamelah
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Wednesday, July 09, 2003

gardenin' fool...

so even though talking about my love of gardening sometimes makes me feel like a middle-aged suburban housewife, man, i love gardening. and it's a good thing, because i have this garden full of flowers. they're pretty awesome right now. see?





posted by jamelah
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the truth of the matter

on those days when i have an hour or two to take a nap in a patch of sun in my yard, well, those are the days when it rains.





posted by jamelah
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Monday, July 07, 2003

that's it...

it won't be necessary for you to e-mail me this picture. really. i already have a copy.


i'm running away to become a cowboy. because, you know, i have the hat.





posted by jamelah
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Sunday, July 06, 2003

but in all seriousness

sometimes i get this uncontrollable urge to punch someone in the head. the problem with this is generally when this urge arises, there's no one around but me. since i don't really want to punch myself in the head, i have to find something else to do. like laundry.

speaking of punching, i'll just say that i finally got around to seeing punch-drunk love this weekend. i liked it. that is all.





posted by jamelah
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Friday, July 04, 2003

obligatory holiday post

happy fourth day of the month of july. go light some sparklers or grill some meat or something.





posted by jamelah
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Thursday, July 03, 2003

hangin' with the sharif...

i've often wondered what the sharif's problem was... you know, with the casbah rocking and all. i personally believe that when the casbah is doing the rocking there's no need to bother with the knocking, if you get what i mean.

and i know you do.

anyway, i was talking to the sharif the other day, because even though the sharif and i don't see eye to eye on this casbah issue, the sharif and i are cool with each other on some other things and sometimes we get together and party with the creole lady marmalade. it's true.

but i digress.

see, i was hangin' with the sharif, and we were smokin' a couple of black & milds and drinkin' 40s of st. ives genuine malt liquor and i said to the sharif, "hey, the sharif, what's the deal with you and the casbah?"

the sharif took a swallow from his 40 and turned to me, carefully blowing smoke out the side of his mouth, so as not to hit me in the face with it and said, "jamelah honey, do not even get me started on the casbah." he put his plastic-tipped cigar up to his lips and tapped it there for a second before inhaling again. "the casbah. it is truly heinous in the sight of the sharif. with all of its rocking."

"yeah," i said, cracking a fresh 40 of st. ives, "i understand that the sharif don't like it, but why? what has the casbah ever done to the sharif?"

the sharif grew silent and a wee bit pensive. his eyes glossed with tears. "the sharif does not wish to speak of the casbah any longer. would you care to go roller skating, yo?"

well, certainly i was down with roller skating, so we got into the sharif's bentley and headed to the roller rink, because we love the nightlife and we've got to boogie.

anyway, as the night rolled on (pardon the pun), i lost the sharif. i was getting a little worried, because when the sharif drinks too much, he sometimes engages in self-destructive behavior. one time i caught him in a corner with matthew and gunnar nelson, singing "after the rain". so, you see what i mean. i had cause to worry.

i took off my roller skates and started searching for the sharif. i found him, leaning against the concession stand, eating nachos and weeping. "hey the sharif," i said, touching his arm. "what up, yo?"

the sharif blew his nose into a napkin and sniffled. "the casbah... the casbah... the sharif does not like it." he took a sip from his 64 ounce pepsi, then played with the bendy straw a little bit. "with all of the rocking. the sharif never gets to rock the casbah. would you like a nacho?"

i took a nacho and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "now listen to me, the sharif, you could rock the casbah if you wanted to."

"no, no," the sharif said. "the casbah... and the sharif... and the..." his words collapsed under the weight of a fresh bout of weeping. "the sharif needs a moment," he said, putting up a hand.

"sure, the sharif, sure. take your time. i understand this is a painful issue for you."

"no! you do not understand the sharif's pain!" the sharif took a couple of deep breaths. "the casbah with all its noisy rocking keeping the sharif awake all hours of the night." his voice lowered to a whisper. "the sharif needs his sleep. the sharif has things to do. the sharif has meetings. the sharif has work. the sharif does not have time for the rocking and the casbah."

"so you hate the casbah because it's noisy? hasn't the sharif ever thought of moving to somewhere not so close to the casbah?"

the sharif raised an eyebrow. "the sharif cannot move away from the casbah."

"um..."

"and the sharif's wife. the casbah stole the sharif's wife."

"how did the casbah steal the sharif's wife?"

"she said she left her purse in the casbah and she just had to run in and get it. she said she'd be back in a couple of minutes. do you think she came back? noooooo. she was stolen by the casbah. made a slave to the casbah and all its rocking ways."

"sorry, the sharif."

"i cannot leave. what if the sharif's wife comes home and is unable to find the sharif?"

"well, the sharif, when did your wife leave?"

"1982."

"right. can i tell the sharif something?"

the sharif bit into a nacho and grimaced. "the sharif's cheese is cold."

"ok. listen to me, the sharif. you can't blame the casbah for people and their willful ways."

"oh yes the sharif can. the sharif can do whatever the sharif wants to do. this is rule number one of being the sharif."

"right then."

"the sharif would like some hot cocoa. would you like some hot cocoa?"

"sure."

so we went for some hot cocoa. damn the sharif and his shifty subject-changing methods. we never did get the whole casbah issue straightened out, because after we had the hot cocoa, we ended up crashing this pool party, and one of the sharif's most bitter enemies, television's very own tina yothers, got into a fight with the sharif and they were throwing cheese cubes at each other and it was just ugly. the sharif was all wasted, and i had to drive... i ended up letting him crash on my couch, because he kept mumbling about the casbah and the noise and the rocking and how the sharif does not like it and it was just a mess.

to be honest, nights with the sharif always end up like this. i probably shouldn't hang out with him anymore, because he's just very emotionally needy and it's really a drag. then there's the whole casbah issue, and to be honest, i rock the casbah rather frequently, and i won't lie. it's a source of contention. i don't know. the sharif is an old friend, and i don't want to punk out on him or anything, but there's only so much a girl like me can take.

even so, the sharif did promise to get me into a party at scott baio's house......

man, i'm just torn. torn, i tell you. i guess though, if i'm going to live the life of an international a-list party girl, hanging out with the likes of scott baio, tina yothers and richard grieco, there are just some things i'll have to put up with, and the sharif's emotional instability is one of them.

whew. i feel better now. thanks for listening.





posted by jamelah
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Wednesday, July 02, 2003

why smoking is good for you

when you have a respiratory infection or bronchitis or SARS or pneumonia or tuberculosis or some other type of disease that interferes with your breathing and causes coughing, you might think that smoking would be a bad idea. to this i say your thinking is incorrect. see, smoking is a good thing to do when you are inflicted with any of the previously listed ailments, and i'll tell you why:

smoking allows you to gauge exactly how ill you are.

it's true. although those crazy people who are into health (some might refer to them as "doctors") try to convince you of insane things, like the idea that smoking is bad, well, they're crazy, and therefore must be ignored. take it from me. i know about these things. so, since i'm a nice girl, i'm going to provide you with a scale to help you judge your illness level, based on your reaction to that cigarette you just lit. you will thank me, and so will future generations. of this, i am certain.

are you ready? ok.

how sick are you?


not sick: you light the cigarette, inhale & exhale with no problem, feeling that sweet, sweet smoke singe your cilia as you take it into your lungs.

perhaps sick: you light the cigarette, inhale & cough a little, yet you are able to finish the cigarette without any further problems.

sick: you light the cigarette, inhale & cough for an extended period of time. you are able to finish the cigarette, though you have to pause at times for more coughing.

damn, you need some antibiotics, yo: you light the cigarette, are unable to inhale, the scent of the smoke causes an insane coughing fit which is so intense and painful you feel you may have just broken a rib or two. at the end of the coughing fit, the cigarette has burned itself all the way down to its filter. you might want to wait awhile before attempting to smoke again, because you don't want to waste tobacco like that, do you?

i think you will agree with me that this scale is both helpful and wonderful. you can begin with the accolades if you want. i won't stop you, or anything... but i want you to know that i don't do these things for the accolades. well, i only partially do them for the accolades. because in truth, i live to serve.





posted by jamelah
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Tuesday, July 01, 2003

although i realize SARS isn't trendy anymore

i think i have contracted the asian death plague after it stopped being hip. so basically, i am down with disease much like those who would wear hypercolor t-shirts all the way up into 1997 were down with fashion.





posted by jamelah
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