Love.

Death of Chloe

"Part of growing up, people tell me.
But something inside me
something inside me
died that day."

~Yoko Ono, Death of Samantha

Channeling Bette Davis on a Saturday Night

Missing.

The person you are trying to reach is not accepting calls at this time. Please try your call again later.

I’ve heard this recording so many times, its almost a wonder that I still keep trying to reach you. If I actually heard your voice on the other end of the line, I would be quite startled.

When the thought hits me that I’d really like to talk to you, I pick up my phone and call without hesitation. I call you much more now than I did when your phone was in service. I expect that the result will be the same, which eliminates most of the anxiety I used to feel about calling you. I’m hoping to be startled one of these times. I really miss hearing you voice.

I’m scared of being able to one day relate too much to James Taylor’s “Fire and Rain.”

Just yesterday morning they let me know you were gone
…
I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain
I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I’d see you again

I hope that you’re ok. I need to keep believing that I will see you again. I don’t want anyone to take that probability away from me.

I miss you.

Projection.

Dear Alcohol,

Fuck you.  Fuck you.  Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck your mom.  Seriously, I hate you.  

Sincerely,

JJ

A Weakness

I’ve come to realize that I am a sucker for a cute face. Whether it’s a pet, a baby, or a boy, the being attached to that cute face can do no wrong by me. All of my idealism resides there.

Hmm...

"Lil Kim is alive and well and she's hiding in your pants!!"

~Bruno Tonioli

Wow.

This is so uncomfortable and so hysterical at the same time. Had to be shared.

Grandma and The Dog

At least there's a chance...

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Torn

I’ve almost callously blocked my Moroccan lover out of my mind. I can’t be there and be here at the same time. And I can’t be here and be in Massachusetts. I can’t be in Philadelphia. I can’t be in Miami. I can’t see beyond my walls. Wherever I am, I don’t want to move. Wherever I am, there is someplace else calling me back. I don’t know where to go I don’t know where to stay. Where is my home when my heart is in so many different places?

Meredith and Jen Go Up A Mountain

This is a summary of our Saturday afternoon. It does not, however, include the moment of breakthrough with the local schizophrenic, which was to follow, and which was, for me, the highlight of the day.

It was a great Saturday

On Laughter

"The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter."
~Mark Twain

I'm pretty sure the only book I've ever read cover-to-cover by Mark Twain was Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I really liked it. I think I may even have read it twice. A few years ago I picked up a book of Twain quotes because it was only a dollar and short quotes suit my attention span far better than novels. Flipping through that book, I realized just how great Twain's humor was. His observations of life are startlingly accurate and summed up succinctly with a brilliant wit. This is, I think, the same combination that leads me, on rare occasion, to take a liking to a stand-up comic.

Last night, I decided to put on a Ken Burn's PBS documentary about Mark Twain to listen to while I was doing the dishes. I didn't expect to finish it, but 3 1/2 hours later, with sleepy eyes, I found myself sitting on my couch in the glow of sunrise thinking, "Hmm, what an interesting life he led." Samuel Clemens (pen name Mark Twain) suffered a great deal of loss in his life, including his brother, several of his children, and the love of his life. In such dark hours, Clemens/Twain relied on humor to get by. He viewed it as a necessity exclusive to mortals and believed that there was no laughter in heaven.

I find this is a novel and very interesting idea.

On Greatness

Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.

~Mark Twain

A friend told me recently that I'll never do anything great, but that I have the ability to recognize greatness when I see it.

It just so happens that the person who told me this is someone I've always thought was truly great.

M. Snides is a Marketing Genius

Sunday Best is going on tour!!

Tour dates TBA. Check back in soon for more information.

Easter Best

When I was a kid, Easter was a big family affair. Perhaps one day it will be again, when I have a family of my own. But for many years now, I've often found myself away from my family on this holiday. Being away from my family means spending Easter without any of the traditions I was used to as a kid. Now every year is different. I miss the fam, but there is something interesting and exciting about seeing where the holiday may take you. This year was a fun one.

After 19 missed calls, Meredith finally succeeded in rousing me from my slumber a few hours before the sun went down so that I wouldn't completely miss out of this lovely Easter Sunday. Half asleep, I asked her what she wanted to do. "We'll start at the coffee shop," she said. As I pulled myself from my coccoon, I began to feel excited about what I might wear for my Easter outfit! Surely, it wouldn't be as impressive as the days when my mother would put weeks of preparation into getting the perfect Easter dress, as, after all, I was her only girl and that was the one day she had to dress me like a living doll. I searched my closet for a dress or skirt that was neither black nor skanky. Turns out that doesn't leave me with too many options. I ended up looking something like a pink gypsy. Meredith and I met for coffee and cigarettes and chats at the coffee shop where everyone actually does know our name. Five hours, three rounds, two crushes, and one sunset later, we moved on. After a destinationless drive with some great tunes, we decided to have ourselves a nice Easter dinner with the Cheesecake Factory gift cards I found in my coffee table. As we drove past the local towny bar on the way to the overstimulating upscale shopping plaza, we both knew that indeed the night would lead us there.

Indeed, after fruity martinis and pricey entrees we wandered into our favorite dive bar, and brought the grand total of patrons present to about six or seven. We ordered a couple beers and lined up Johnny Cash on the jukebox. Avoiding a creepy drunk southerner, we went out back for a cigarette. As I sashayed out there in my big poofy skirt and pink lace 'do rag-ish hat a middle aged, long haired man pulled into the alley on a bicycle and exclaimed "A gypsy girl crossed my path on Easter Sunday!" He then proceeded to pull out his cell phone and yell in into it in Russian, slipping the words "gypsy girl" in there in English. Then he slammed his phone shut, dropped his backpack and marched past us into the bar. We'd seen this guy here before. He was a resident barfly, who reminded me of Rex Manning from "Empire Records"... the washed up old rock star, who now seems more like a cautionary tale. He had hair to his shoulders, a white undershirt with black suspenders, and a leather jacket. He spoke like he had smoked a couple packs a day for decades. His weathered skin implied that he'd had himself a good time in the late '60s and '70s. A few minutes later, he came back outside with a drink in hand. He asked how our Easter had been and disclosed that no one had invited him for Easter Dinner this year. This time he spoke in a perfect American accent. Confused, I asked him where he was from. "Boston", he replied. That answer always excites me. "I'm from the North Shore," I said, "Topsfield." He told us about a time decades ago when he and a friend of his drove out from East Boston to go to the Topsfield Fair to see a new band from England that was supposed to be good. "What band?" he had asked his friend. "I don't know. Something Zeplin," his friend told him. They then dropped acid and watched colors dance as Led Zeplin played in my little country home town. As our conversation progressed, we learned that he is an actor, who attended Emerson College, like Meredith and I. He graduated 36 years before us. "How long have you lived in LA?" I asked him. "Too long!" he groughly replied. "How long?" I wondered, but figured it best not to push it. He began to talk about a convention he would be attending soon with George Ramiro, that should put a few bucks in his pocket. "George Ramiro? You know George Ramiro?" Now, we come to find out that he is something of a celebrity to zombie movie fans, as he played a major role in Day of the Dead. I was embarassed to admit that I hadn't seen this zombie movie, even though I'm a huge fan of Night of the Living Dead. I wasn't sure whether to look at him as an Emerson success story or not. He'd studied under the same acting teacher as Henry Winkler and Dennis Leary and is chummy with a legendary filmmaker, yet he's spending Easter night, like every other, alone at the bar, after no one invited him to Easter dinner. Had we been visited by the ghost of Emerson Future? Should we get out of LA before it's too late?
I'm not sure, exactly. Regardless, Joseph was great company and walked us out to our car to make sure no drunk creepos gave us any trouble. He also encouraged us to come back for live jazz Monday night. We might just go.

Stop Motion Animation Films

Four single twentysomething ladies disappeared into the desert for two days and two nights. When they returned, they brought back the following works of art with them:

Retro Chinese Fire Drill

Fun Fone!

Bitches In Heat

My Letter To President Barack Obama

March 31, 2009

The President

The White House

1600 Pennsylvania Ave., NW

Washington, DC 20500

Re: Canabis Law Reform Is Not A Joke


Dear Mr. President,

I am one of the millions of young Americans who felt inspired in a way we had never known before when you stepped onto the national stage. I was loud and proud with my support for you, making calls to voters all over the country and encouraging my family and friends to lend their support to your movement. Therefore, I hope you can appreciate how insulted and disappointed I was by some of your actions and comments at the recent Town Hall event.

You see, I am also one of the tens of millions of Americans who believe that cannabis should be legally regulated like alcohol. I understand that you may oppose this position, but that is no reason to deride this issue.

According to your administration, there is an unprecedented level of violence occurring at the Mexico/US border much of which is allegedly caused by the trafficking of marijuana to the United States by drug cartels. America's stringent enforcement of marijuana prohibition, which artificially inflates black market marijuana prices and ensures that only criminal enterprises will be involved in the production and sale of this commodity, is helping to fuel this violence. Is this really a subject to be laughed at?

Two recent polls indicate that a strong majority of regional voters support ending marijuana prohibition and treating the drug's sale, use, and distribution like alcohol. A February 2009 Zogby telephone poll reported that nearly six out of ten of voters on the west coast think that cannabis should be "taxed and legally regulated like alcohol and cigarettes." A justreleased California Field Poll reports similar results, finding that 58 percent of statewide votes believe that regulations for cannabis should be the same or less strict than those for alcohol.

Why do you choose to laugh at these people? Why do you choose to laugh at me?

The American public is ready and willing to engage in a serious and objective political debate regarding the merits of legalizing the use of cannabis by adults. The time for joking is over.

Please consider apologizing for your dismissive tone, and please consider treating those of us who believe that there are viable alternatives to marijuana prohibition with the respect we deserve.

Sincerely,



Jennifer M. Jeffrey

On Blogging

What is the purpose of a blog?

Is it a platform for me to write about what's happening in my life, with hopes of finding some clarity? Should I use this as motivation to get myself working more creatively? Can I post links to youtube clips that I find worthwhile? What about pictures of my cat? Can I ramble on about truth and love and beauty? Can this be used as a passive aggressive way of expressing my aggrivation with people I'm too scared to confront? Is this a diary or is this a group email or is this my premier? Seems rather disorganized to combine all of those things on one platform, doesn't it?

Like a kid who didn't pay attention to the directions, I'm not really sure what my assignment is here, but I have a feeling it may be a worthwhile experience.

I exist in a pretty much constant state of confusion. From the macro to the micro, I basically have no idea what's going on. When I'm not gripping, almost desperately, to distractions, I'm overwhelmed with a lack of understanding. I recall looking up at annoyed faces rather often as I child, when I would demand to know "why?" in response to just about any bit of information I was given. During the first round, I would receive an answer that seemed to satisfy the adult I was talking to, to which I would reply: "Ok... but, why?" And this could continue for many rounds, depending on the adult and what responsibilities they were trying to deal with at that given moment. Generally speaking, the dialogue would be abruptly ended when I got just too obnoxious. The problem is, I still don't understand. I still ask "but, why?" regularly, only now its usually silently and directed to myself. Now a so-called adult, I'm trying to figure things out as best I can. I'll never have any absolute truths. The only thing of which I am certain: I am certain of nothing. And yet, I keep searching. Contradictory, right? Well, along with the confusion, contradictions are a part of my DNA. "Contrary Mary" was one of the several nicknames I received from my mother growing up. When I heard this one, I usually interpretted it as "You're being annoying." So, in advance I shall disclaim that there will likely be plenty of contradictions popping up as the entries in this blog expand. And guess what contradictions lead to? Yep, confusion.

Alas, I've entitled my blog "An Attempt At Understanding," because everything I put on here (whether its a youtube clip of a celebrity falling or my thoughts on Vladmir Putin) will be data informing my attempt to figure out this whole "life" thing.

Welcome.

Let's Start With This

"Whoever undertakes to set himself up as judge in the field of truth and knowledge is shipwrecked by the laughter of the Gods."
~Albert Einstein