knowitallgirl

Happy Halloweenie! Even though I've

Happy Halloweenie! Even though I've been sick and busy I threw together a lame costume for work today (Yahoo is pretty incredible in its Halloween enthusiasm; we got to vote today on who had the best costume in the company) -- it incorporates my Soviet sailor hat I got in the USSR, but that's all you get to know. Except now my head smells like mothballs. No photos -- it's not cool enough. My masquerade photos are way, way better. So, to assuage your disappointment, here's a photo of Deneb with murderous intent . . . hopefully he won't try to reenact this with me after he sees this photo.

Ah, so here are the

Ah, so here are the photos from Roman and Mae's wedding on Sunday night. It was a masquerade ball (held at Cafe Du Nord, extra points for super cool location) and great fun. mdc and I went together.



My fun mask . . .



The happy ex-couple ;)



Me, me, me!



The bride and groom . . .



The bride and groom moshing . . .



Jen & Brandon, who had a great mask made from two forks and a spoon. Cool!

Oh YEAH! I'm supposed to

Oh YEAH! I'm supposed to write something, like, regularly. Ah, I was feeling lazy. And sick. I don't think it can be Halloween without me getting sick.

I have cable for the first time since 1998, and I'm still dazed that there are multiple HBO channels. Like, seven or something! Do I need that much HBO? But I have to say, for the few minutes I tune in as background noise (I find it almost completely impossible to sit and watch TV and do NOTHING else) I've taken in tidbits from Real Sex (topic: messy food sex), seen parts of All The President's Men (the best journalism movie ever made), an MTV Nirvana "documentary" (I missed Nirvana for about four minutes, then the constant pressure to buy the forthcoming compilation -- guess the band finally settled with Ms. Love -- gave me my fill), and -- now I'm really slumming -- Top Gun, my most favorite fourteen-year-old lust movie. Sigh. And I keep hearing coworkers sing the praises of TiVo, which I absolutely refuse to be seduced by. Gar. Must stop early stages of addiction NOW.

See? I've already strayed from giving my Political Rant of the Week. Well, suffice to say, let's just give thanks for Walter Mondale. We need all the help we can get, no matter how often I believe we get the government that we deserve. For once, I think we deserve better than a Bush/Republican dominated legislative branch. Ugh.

Guys, we're so totally screwed

Guys, we're so totally screwed I don't even know where to start. Except I predict that the fallout of this morning's tragedy -- the death of Senator Paul Wellstone -- will only move into focus in the next few weeks. Beyond the fact that Wellstone was one of the few people in Congress that I can say was honestly great, that had any integrity worth speaking of (even Feingold doesn't come close in my opinion), it puts the future of our Senate in utter danger. You can bet the Republican leadership is smirking beneath the surface. It's time to be scared -- the arrogance of this administration that was in full display in their first months in office will come catapaulting back after November if the Senate goes Republican. If you think things sucked over the past two years with Bush held in check by Congress, just wait. My liberal friends, time to get off your comfortable asses and start making trouble. I'm honestly scared. And sad. Wellstone was a great one -- what a loss.

May I present to you

May I present to you the first champion of the 826 Valencia Spelling Bee, Mr. Mark Contois[mdc]? Having been hit with a small cold I was not able to attend to either compete (yeah, right) or watch Encyclopedia Contois vanquish his sixteen or so opponents. Of course, I'm nearly cross-eyed with envy over his best prize, the entire catalog of Might magazines. Gar! I've been tempted to actually purchase said catalog, seeing as I have only a smattering of them. Anyway, many congrats to Mark, though I'm honestly not surprised by the news. You see, Mark is the unofficial stealth copy editor of this here blog, and I have no doubt that once he tires of the vapid world of computer programming, he'll be the best copy editor Guns & Ammo has ever seen!

Always the optimist, mdc suggests

Always the optimist, mdc suggests I use my psychic powers to predict the setlists of my favorite bands at shows. I think I'd rather be able to tell exactly what toy will come out next in those pizza parlor vending machines, because I saw a really cool sticker in one the other day but I didn't want to feed it quarters until the right one came out.

Went jogging this morning down

Went jogging this morning down here at work, in the wetlands. Cool, grey morning, no one else in sight when I first started, which began to make me a little paranoid. Not even the usual assortment of ducks and geese were about. I had visions of myself left out for dead on the side of the trail, eyes dully staring up into the bleak sky, my bright green track pants a shock of color against the dull green-grey of the marsh grasses. Just as soon as I shook these thoughts from my head I rounded a corner and discovered a huge, newly dead pelican. It was stretched out on its back, about four feet long, eyes already obscured by little bugs enjoying their breakfast snack. Extremely startled, I ran faster, peering over my shoulder, looking suspiciously in the tall grasses. Rounded my loop and ran back past it, still jarred that I sensed something dead before I even saw it. When I was a kid I used to wish I was psychic; now I'm not so sure.

Ah, inequality and wealth, one

Ah, inequality and wealth, one of my favorite topics. (Yes, I am a political science geek.) The Sunday NY Times Magazine has a great story. (That link may not work, it's giving me fits today, sorry!) I particularly like the images they used with the story, because now they’re dated – since when do we think of the rich as fat, and the poor as thin? Just watch an afternoon of Jerry Springer, etc., for confirmation. I guess older white men are allowed to be overweight, but even then it’s the fleshiness gained from too many sirloin steaks and fine desserts and not pork rinds and Big Macs. And women, of course, are never, ever allowed to be fat.

Speaking of wimmin, I have a first-person article out in the newest (October) issue of Bitch. They don’t post magazine articles on the web, so you’ll just have to take yourself to your nearest super-cool bookstore to find a copy. It is SO exciting to see something you’ve written in a magazine you love. My name is featured in McSweeney’s #9 (thanks to Leanne for pointing that one out, my subscription ran out so I hadn’t even seen it), but that’s just for my 826 Valencia work – actually writing something that McSweeney’s would publish is an entirely different ballgame. Speaking of, World Series stuff is pretty exciting – only extreme influences would ever get me to watch baseball, and right now it’s hot!

Hey comix fans! Check out

Hey comix fans! Check out this story written my my buddy Mel Hung in the East Bay Express about one of my most favorite artists, Adrian Tomine. Adrian's comic is Optic Nerve, and is truly awesome. Mel also shows her comic astuteness by interviewing my good friend Eric Reynolds, Shill-In-Residence for Fantagraphics Books. Mel had to shadow Adrian for many days to get this much info out of him, which considering how reticent he is with strangers is quite a feat. Go Mel!

Here’s the Chronicle’s write up

Here’s the Chronicle’s write up on the Litquake party, penned by the indomitable Beth Lisick. How did we miss her? She was even chatting with my former writing teacher, Anne Marino, who I “networked” with that night.

In response to my upcoming billboard adventure, my mom was quick to point out that she’s seen me on the national news (I was interviewed once in D.C. while shopping for environmentally sensitive gifts), on MTV (I’m in R.E.M.’s Drive, very briefly), in the paper, and now this. (I also caught myself on radio last year in a replay of a Dave Eggers interview where I asked him who he wanted to have play him in the movie version of Heartbreaking Work. He responded with something clever that I just can’t recall right now.) Anyway, I think these small appearances (do they add up to fifteen minutes yet?) have everything to do with understanding how to manipulate the media machine, at least minimally. Ah, that PR experience was good for something, besides destroying my idealism.

Check out The Knee for

Check out The Knee for an account of the oh-so-hip literary party that we, the faithful writers of Bookmarks represented at. Comrade Anand, Leanne, myself, and our special guest Wendy had a blast drinking free vodka and schmoozing. I got Dave Eggers to step on my feet twice (and he's engaged. sigh.), accosted Lemony Snicket, a.k.a. Dan Handler, a.k.a. cousin of my buddy Sam. Sam, if you're reading this, I did my best to embarass you. We'll see if Dan talks to you at Passover. After the party we crashed Irvine Welsh's reading at the Edinburgh Castle, and I'm surprised to report I could actually understand about 80% of what he read.

Best exchange of the night:

Anand, to Mr. Snicket: "I'm your biggest fan!"

Mr. Snicket: "No you're not, I've seen much bigger!"

Does anyone else find it impossible that the Angels are in the World Series? Huh? When did that happen?

My next new adventure -- the San Francisco half-marathon in January. It's only 13.1 miles! Who's gonna join me???

Oh, and if I had a cat, it would hate you.

Thanks to all of my

Thanks to all of my housewarming friends. You all rule!

Just when life couldn't get any stranger, something strange happens. I'm going to be on a Team In Training billboard. Soon my face (along with some other folks) will be plastered across a billboard in SF. All of us top fundraisers have been invited to appear. Of course, thanks to all of YOU for making me a top fundraiser. Woo!

I don’t know why I

I don’t know why I can’t track this story down online, but the Chronicle ran a story in business today (from the Bloomberg wire) regarding how Enron creditors are going after Lay, Fastow and Skilling for damages. Wow. Now, this is not my area of expertise, but I think the fact that corporate executives employed by a limited liability company are actually being personally nailed for money is unprecedented. Corporations exist like people legally (with many of the same rights) but without having to bear the personal responsibility that real people must. POCLAD is a great resource for this topic if you want to learn more. It’s pretty insidious. Anyway, to date I don’t recall other corporate wrong-doers getting personally nailed for financial misbehavior (perhaps criminal behavior is the deciding factor here?). Thinking back to the savings and loan scandals of yesteryear, even though Charles Keating got nailed for criminal behavior (and eventually pardoned, I think, the bastard), I don’t believe they went after the money he looted. It’s like a gentleman’s agreement – no one wants to go there because frankly they’re all guilty. Sure, send them away to the federal minimum-security tennis club for a few years, but don’t force them to give anything back. Then everyone might have to come clean. Nice how things have to get really, really, really out of hand before anyone takes a stand. Not sure if my analysis is totally on target here (I’m at work and trying to do a million things, but felt like I had to get this out), but I hope it is!

Help! I want to force

Help! I want to force people to come with me to a Monster Truck Rally for my 30th next month, but I'm not sure where to find one. I don't have time to stay home all day on Saturdays or Sundays watching T.V., which is when I predict they run the ads. Anyone know where to look in SF?

CONGRATS to my brother Jason

CONGRATS to my brother Jason and Linny on their newly formed engagement! Woo-hoo! :) Adorable pics coming soon . . .

Last night was a perfect

Last night was a perfect summer night in San Francisco. Of course, summer here happens in October, but it doesn’t disappoint. I think the heat makes people nicer. Everyone was friendly at the 9th Street Trader Joes where I bought groceries; as I walked out, one of the cashiers and a customer were hanging out, crouched over a radio and talking excitedly about the Giants game.

When I got home I poured myself a glass of merlot, threw on shorts and a t-shirt, and fumbled my way in the darkness through my new backyard to my hammock, where I stretched out, gabbed on the phone and took in the stars. I think you can sit outside at night in SF in shorts about three days a year. It was perfect. Too dry to pass for Hawaii, but if I closed my eyes I could imagine a midsummer night in the desert of Southern California, sans orange blossoms.

Random Personality Quirks: I just

Random Personality Quirks:

• I just thought about tossing a glass of water on my laptop


• Even though heights petrify me, I like to get to the very edge and look over.


• I've always wanted to touch a jellyfish, even though I know they sting.



Maybe I should join SRL so I can blow things up? Too much pent-up aggression/repression? Got me. I feel like breaking something though. However, since I keep thinking about breaking electronic devices (cell phone, laptop), I'm wondering if maybe I need to go spend a weekend in the forest. Maybe that's it. Maybe I just need some junk food; perhaps I'm having a preservative withdrawl or something. Not enough MSG in my diet?

Maybe it's time to go home . . .
Posted by jen at 05:20 PM | TrackBack

You know, I'm reconsidering my

You know, I'm reconsidering my stance on Target Command Post (see below). I think I only object to the fact that it's not marketed towards girls. The more I think about it, the more I'd really like to find an old Barbie Dream House and transform it . . . maybe into a bordello.

Somehow, I moved this weekend. I don't exactly know how I found time to do it, except that I haven't been out much in a few weeks. Time to add some fun back in to my life. Special thanks to Mr. Contois, Mr. Swetz, and Mr. Romero for making it happen. Where would a single gal in the city be without her musculated male friends to help? Is musculated a word? Heh, in my universe it is. Anyway, yesterday I awoke to THE SUN for the first time in ages. Of course, then I had to put a blindfold on in order to sleep. I realized I don't have to do this during the week because I leave BEFORE the sun is even up. That makes me sadder than you can possibly know.

I'm realizing the busier and more entrenched in corporate life I become, the more part of my brain steadfastly rebels and goes the opposite direction. Proof, you ask? Ummm . . . I'll come up with some, you'll see. It's more a sense at the moment. I have to admit, what I like about my new job is that it makes me perform. I heard a great interview on NPR this morning with these guys who wrote a book about Saturday Night Live. One of the things that really stuck with me is how they described the work environment there, how it's totally relentless -- you spend all week rehearsing something, and then the next week you have to start all over again from scratch. It's an environment that forces you to perform, even if it's not always at your best, but frankly you have no other options. I feel like that now. Any hesitancy I've had about doing anything at work is annihilated . . . perform or die. There's something about it that I'm finding addictive and powerful. To tie this all together, I guess I was wondering to myself why I hadn't done anything truly notable, like start a magazine, or a volunteer group, or hell, even a book club. I've been joining a great deal but not starting anything. This job is making me start things, and from it I think I'll take the initiative to start something in turn. Wait and see. Hopefully I won't disappoint.

Ok, back to the mania now. Lunch is over!

P.S. -- MS Word thinks "musculated" should be "emasculated." Hee hee hee.

Target Command Post? This is

Target Command Post? This is wrong, wrong, wrong. On the plane back from Hawaii the other day I had to listen to a five-year-old give a play-by-play of fighter jets blowing shit up in copious detail for, like, an hour. He sounded like he'd watched the battle scenes from Pearl Harbor about five million times, it was so well scripted. I'm gonna be one of those moms that bans war toys and end up having a kid in the military, I know it. (I'm sure my mom could add MANY more things that she'd like to see happen to me as a parent, but this isn't her page!)

In other more peaceful undertakings, my office is right at the southern-most end of the SF bay, and we have acres and acres of open space around us. Yesterday I took two walks outside on the bay trails and saw ducks and a huge turkey buzzard. Long commute, but at least this is more scenic than SOMA.

Huh? I'm constricting my anus

Huh? I'm constricting my anus right now and I'm still confused.

Miss me yet? I know,

Miss me yet? I know, me no update. Hey, this has been the month from Hell. First, new job. Then, marathon. After that, the second I got back, I had to study for a quiz in my java class, begin packing (I move this Saturday), and sell all my furniture (ok, that was my choice). So basically, in the last month (including my recent break-up), I will have done just about everything one can do to reinvent her life. I think the only things left are burning all my clothes and dying my hair. Oh, and maybe moving to another country. It's true, I don't screw around.

So, this has been the week of drinking my own Kool-Aid. In the line of duty (and my new singleness) I've had to start posting personal ads at Yahoo (of course), Match.com, Datecam.com, Salon.com (Spring Street -- includes Nerve and The Onion) . . . I think that's it. At least, for this week. Do I link to my ad? Hmmmm . . . I'm so shy. Actually, that's bullshit, considering this site. Ok, here ya go. Yahoo is the only site where you can pass me around. Everyone else requires login, so you'll have to go search on your own. So far, I've only gotten one response from a pervert. Which is nice, considering when I lived in Hawaii I became convinced that the only guys who had any interest in me were all homeless. Seriously! Only homeless men would pick up on me. Don't tell me what this means, I don't want to know.

Back to packing. My life might be normal soon. I haven't found anything else extreme to do yet, so maybe I'll give myself a few weeks to breathe. Oh, and plan my 30th birthday bash! Woo-hoo!