my hair is getting longer. i'm going to let it grow and grow and grow, and then i'm going to use it to pull cars.

we watched "mulholland drive" last night. the more confused i am during a movie, the more likely i am to proclaim it absolutely brilliant. i wonder what would happen if i were to apply that line of thinking to the rest of my life. "what is this, chocolate covered spinach? i don't get it- but, wow, it must be incredible."

this blog needs a good, swift kick in the pants. it needs to get back into a new gear besides "neutral."

today's interesting links:

* voluntary human extinction movement

highlight:

Q: does VHEMT favor abortion?

A: only when someone is pregnant.

* sitcom contest on bravo

i already tried submitting a sitcom idea, to nbc. i still have the rejection letter.

* buttpaste

this website could really have been much funnier. suggestions?

* 24 children for sale, on ebay

i'm this close to buying a tampon dispenser off of ebay, to hang in the bathroom. it just makes sense! and then, when female friends come over, maybe i can make some money.

coming soon: condom dispenser for the guest bathroom.

a good way to annoy me is to treat your dog as if it were your child. to refer to yourself as "mommy" or "daddy" in the presence of said dog and to sign your dog's name to various christmas cards and census reports. people like this bother me to no end; get a dog and treat it like a dog. knock it around, make it hunt down rabbits, use it as a footstool, put a sweater on it along with a kicky little beret as to induce laughter, but please don't act like you're going to start breast feeding the damn thing in a few minutes.

these feelings are strong and deep-rooted. my family had a dog when i was little, and i loved this dog fiercely, but i never considered it to be my second sibling, or perhaps something cousin-like. i suppose it would have been easy; the dog did, after all, have a people name. this also bugs me. dogs are supposed to be called "fido" or "duke" or "sonuvabitch." however, i shall forgive my folks for naming our beagle "jason." the dog was around before i was, and i wonder, sometimes, if the dog had been a girl and i had been a boy, would i have been jason and would the dog have been jackie? i suppose i shall never know.

despite giving him a people name, my dad treated this dog like a dog. i didn't know there was any other way to treat a pet, until i grew a little older and ran into the likes of some of these characters. usually, i end up disliking these people for another reason entirely, but if you say to your dog, "mommy loves you," then it's a good indication that you probably won't be invited to my cinco de mayo party, should i drag out the beer bong and decide that such a party is in order.

i miss my dog jason, but i'm glad that he was able to die with a little dignity, which would not have been possible if we had crammed him into a high chair at the kitchen table. and as far slapping a cowboy hat on his head, using him as a footstool, and letting the neighborhood children attempt to ride him like a pony? very, very dignified. indeed.

job benefits are fantastic. i feel like the amount of vacation time they're giving me, plus holidays and sick days, will far exceed the amount of time i'll actually be working. it's incredible. they also signed me up for life insurance that i don't have to contribute to. i named the cheese as my beneficiary, and he stands to gain over 50k should i "have an accident" in the next year. if he can wait it out past the year, he'll gain even more. with that kind of dough, he can just buy another jackie.

but, of course, there's no other jackie. maybe he'd have to settle for a bertha, or a semi-obedient dog.

fyi:

malaysia holds the world record for... most old people at a circus.

ah, leave it to malaysia.

tampons are used to stem the flow of blood, like a cross between a hydroelectric dam and a band-aid.

- this website

anyways, enough about tampons. what i want to talk about is shoulder pads. who finds these atrocities either attractive or necessary? who? unless you're trying to balance a tea cup on your shoulder, i don't see a use for them.

it turns out that i am extremely shy. no, actually, it turns out that, as billy joel once crooned, i go to extremes. i can be such an annoying fucking loudmouth that even i want to kick my ass. then, i can be rendered practically mute, intimidated by new people and situations. at my new job, i realize that i will probably be completely silent, at least for a few months while i work everything out in my head. then, one day, i will explode into giggles at my desk and ask the guy next to me what he thinks about "head cheese." this is when they will call the doctor.

i wish i were more consistent. manic, depressive, manic, depressive.

today, chris and i went to the fry's electronics in downer's grove. chris had hailed this store as a mix between "disneyland and wendy's"- except, of course, without the rides and foods. it's basically a cooler version of best buy. anyhow, what i really want to talk about is fry's promise of a theme. chris had gone on and on about how every fry's has this awesome theme, and my mind was racing trying to guess what downer's grove theme would be. do you know what it was? not alice in wonderland or martians or ancient egypt. it was a few hung pictures celebrating "the history of downer's grove-" with a couple of roman columns thrown in for.... good measure? fry's, you disappointed.

now, see what that paragraph looks like when translated to japanese, and then back to english:

Today, the crith and I went to the electronic engineering of fry ofthe orchard of downer. As for the crith as the combination "ofdisneyland and wendy" between - you exclude, this store it called,naturally, there is no riding in a car or food. That is the editionbasis where the best shopping is cooler. As whatever, I expressing, itis promise of the subject of fry in really desired something. Thecrith the angle which subject of the just this you are surprised inall fry how is attached is went abundant, and as for my heart thosewhere subject of the orchard of downer is had competed the fact thatthe fact that it presumes is tried. Those where that is you haveknown? Alice or martians or ancient Egypt which does not have thecountry of wonder. As for that "history of the orchard of downer wheresome Roman were thrown to for the sake of column has been attached -"the image where the small amount which you celebrate was applied.... The good measurement where was? Fry, you were disappointed.

my last day of work was thursday, and one of the girls bought me a giant cookie. if there's one thing i don't get, it's the giant cookie. (i suppose i should say, if there's one other thing i don't get- the giant cookie wouldn't be numero uno on the list of incomprehensibles; it would be somewhere after the simultaneous wearing of socks and sandals. also, the $1.98 jesus candles at the mexican grocery store.)

the big cookie is much too large to fit into a glass of milk, and it also never tastes as good as a regular cookie. it is, however, quite popular with the "someone-at-the-office-is-going-away-or-having-a-baby-or-celebrating-a-questionable-holiday crowd," and this forces the question of why just make the cookie big? what about giant donuts? cupcakes the size of a microwave? m&m's that could squash a human face?

i accepted the cookie graciously, of course, because i'm not one to lead a dead gift horse to water, if you know what i mean. everybody also signed a card. one of the ladies wrote her message in polish. really, it could say anything. my sneaking suspicion is that it reads, "what kind of retard throws a full cup of coffee into the trash?" i'll admit, i have been known to make a few messes.

i also got yellow roses, yellow being the color of friendship. it's also the color of a certain fever, the phone directory for businesses, and a certain submarine. ah, symbols can be so cryptic.

it feels surreal. i worked 6 years for that company. if you do the math, that's a quarter of my entire life. it's bewildering.

dear chicago police department,

are you looking to hire a detective? because i know just the girl- me! yes, me. maybe it's all the monk i've been watching, or the encyclopedia brown stories i've been thinking about. ah, that kid was such a piece of work. perhaps, reader, it could be the nancy drew cd-rom mystery i've been sleuthing away at. i'm a little old for nancy drew, you say? that's why i chose senior detective instead of junior detective on the menu page. also, i'm just that good.

i haven't solved any real cases as of yet, but if you're willing to take me on, i promise that you will be pleased with my work. won't it be fun to go on stake-outs with me? i'll bring the beef sandwiches, you bring the fries.

anyhow, consider it. also, did you ever notice that nancy's two friends, bess and george, are awfully close for two girls that claim to be cousins? they spend all their free time together and bicker like an old married couple. even when the hardy boys drop by, bess and george are still stuck to each other like the media on oprah whenever she has a break from jury duty and decides to have a tuna sandwich. anyhow, i think nancy drew was the first lesbian pulp, not wonderwoman as all those museum of sex curators would like us to think.

see? this is why i'd make a good detective.

-jook

this is my last week at lenscrafters. for real, this time. not like last january when i thought i was done and then went crawling back due to making a bad choice. that's what you get when you try to work for an online university. at least i learned a valuable lesson: don't take another job just for the sake of taking another job. and don't ever sign up for "more information" regarding an online degree. once they have your phone number, you're done for.

but this time, i feel a little more certain that things will work out. funny, huh?

yes, i'm worried that i know nothing about banking, but my biggest concern isn't this lack of knowledge, or even that i sometimes have trouble counting. my worries at the moment are mostly wardrobe related. i can't be successful without the right shoes or suits. social scientists everywhere have proven this, and i'll be damned if i'm going to be a failure just because my blouse doesn't quite match my pants.

you know where i'm coming from.

i think i'm going to have to get rid of my harriet soon. harriet the car has been with me through thick and thin, bad driving conditions and good driving conditions. yet i feel like she's about to give up on me soon. it's in the way she sputters at me when i try to start her. it's in the way she trembles when we approach major intersections. i need to lay her down to rest before she completely quits on me; i can't have her break my heart.

i need a new car, and now i'm convinced i also need a gps system in this new car. i need that calming voicing telling me, "right turn on roselle" and "slow down, you're going to hit that tree." maybe i won't get lost as much. maybe i won't feel so alone on long car rides.

gps: "left turn onto route 53."

me: "thanks, gps. would you like a sip of my soda? tell me a little about yourself."

gps: "right turn on palatine."

oh, the fun we'll have.

i'm reading Lies My Teacher Told Me : Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong. i don't usually enjoy reading nonfiction, but here i am, devouring each and every page as if the book were made of cheesecake instead of paper. i'm halfway through the book, but the first chapter is really what's sticking out in my mind. they talk about helen keller.

now, i went to helen keller elementary school, and the helen keller movie (shot in black and white with anne sullivan looking like a nervous breakdown was just one scene away) was required viewing. the first word poor helen learned to sign was water. w-a-t-e-r. soon after that, she was signing away whole paragraphs, using words such as ramification and ideology. that helen learned quickly, and she was someone we could all look up to. then she turned 12, and the movie ended.

what they don't teach you in school, and which i never learned until now, is that helen keller was a communist. she even hung a red flag above her desk. what i do want to know is how helen knew the flag was red.

i have nothing against communism. i did have a run in with some self-proclaimed communists a few years ago who thought that i was the scum of the earth for majoring in marketing, but that's as close as i ever came to having any kind of communist discussion. as a side note, they were half right about me being the scum of the earth, but not because i majored in the art of sales. i'm thinking more along the lines of the poor and tattered condition of my favorite bra, which i refuse to part with due to it's comfort rating- a well deserved 9.8.

anyhow, i'm intrigued by this side of helen that i was never exposed to in the aforementioned movie. discussing this with the cheese, the helen jokes began to flow like watered down ketchup onto the hot dog that was our evening. chris was brutal in his disparagement, and i told him that he was going to hell.

"well i guess i'll see helen keller there."

"helen keller's not in hell!"

"yeah she is. she's a communist!"

ah, but we kid. anyhow, this book is great, and everyone should read it. it'll give us something to talk about at parties.

there comes a time in every young girl's life when she is forced to accept that she is a shitty photographer.

okay, not every young girl is as horrid a photographer as i, but i must feel like i am not alone in this. i might as well have kept the cap on the lens while snapping my photos, except that disposable cameras don't come with caps. maybe that's my problem.

the photographs from this weekend should be used as a teaching aid in a series of lectures given to retards on basic camera skills. topics discussed would include: (1) when to turn on the flash, asshole, (2) how not to have big, immobile objects blocking your subject, (3) how it's important to have a subject, any subject, other than part of a tree and an expanse of grey sky, and (4) why it's a bad idea to stand about four miles away from said subject. jackass.

flipping through my snapshots, i decided that i would add "photography" as one of my skills to one day consider boning up on. this is a list that also includes cloning a milkshake, capturing a mermaid as to one up those lously pirates, and also mastering interstellar travel. needless to say, it ain't going to get done. unless i become a fantastic photographer by sheer chance, i may have to dedicate myself to a life of purchasing postcards. which reminds me of a funny story about my mother.

sure, we went to hollywood and venice and santa monica- but, most importantly, we drove around and found filming locations for the back to the future movies. in and around pasadena, we tracked down marty's house, marty's high school, lorraine's house, doc's house, and the twin pines mall. possibly the best day of my life.

doc's house is actually a national historic landmark- but for some other reason entirely. we stopped in the gift shop and encountered a couple of guys our age, who had no clue that they were standing at the foot of doc brown's mansion. what the hell is wrong with the southern california tourist board? they say, "oh this gamble house is an outstanding example of american arts and crafts style architecture." what they don't say is "oh this is where the dellorean fucking came from." idiots.

all in all, fun time. i was glad to finally meet dax and jessica and andrew. too bad i didn't have enough time with them, which was ironic due to feeling like i had all the time in the world. you know, because of the time machine.

i have a new job now. the lady in charge of hiring called me on my birthday, which is funny because i was hired at my current company six years ago also on my birthday. i only hope i will enjoy the same kind of success at the bank that i've been able to enjoy at the optical. ah ha ha, good one.

1. my birthday is tomorrow, the big 6-3. i mean, the big 2-4. magical things tend to happen on my birthday, such as in 2001 when my skin cleared up overnight, and, 1987, when that band of elves crashed into my bedroom and demanded that i eat their cupcakes.

2. tonight, we leave for los angeles. i have done lengthy research on los angeles and its surrounding communities, and have discovered several interesting tid-bits.

• l.a. has the strongest pull of gravity in the entire solar system.
• l.a. is about 90% hydrogen and 10% helium.
• l.a. has up to 39 moons, depending on who you ask.
• i would weigh about 270 pounds in l.a.

oh, wait. that's jupiter.

3. i think i'm getting that job at the bank. they're working on an offer. i hope it looks like this: 200,000 dollars per year, plus all the string cheese i can reasonably eat, plus medical, dental, life, auto, fire, home, rental, and shoe insurance, plus a name plate the size of my face, plus the freedom to go pantsless on days when i plan on not standing up too often.

4. everyone keeps asking me about the wedding. they won't take "i don't know" for an answer. i'm not exactly a planner, and the idea of having to coordinate this whole event is making me wonder if i should go on one of those wedding shows where five complete strangers plan your wedding on some predetermined budget. the thing is, i don't want to end up getting married in a place that's been decorated to resemble the set of "welcome back kotter." you have to watch out for these things. have you ever seen these shows? sheesh.

this is a long overdue rant, but i feel it's an important topic that i should discuss. am i talking about bush or abortion or gun control or tibet? oh no. what's on my mind today is sweat.

now, some girls in their late teens have problems with excessive perspiration. finding an effective deoderant/anti-perspirant can be like hunting down jimmy hoffa- while wearing a shirt that's soaking wet. anyhoo, my cousin and i had this same problem, and then she recommended certain dri.

ah, certain dri. so long-lasting that it's still working hard after 84 hours. my god, do you know how many episodes of seinfeld that is? more than ten. (is it a bad thing that i tend to calculate time based on sitcom lengths? i'm not sure either.)

so, i purchased some from the local sell-a-torium. i applied as directed, and the next morning the pores in my armpits were literally fused shut. no, i wasn't sweating, but i also couldn't raise my arms for fear that i would tear my tightly stretched skin. i'd rip my armpit wide open, and my left lung would somehow go flying out. and then there was the itching. i couldn't decide which was more socially devastating- having small moist spots on my t-shirt or sitting in class while vigorously scratching away at my pits. neither seemed to help when it came to attracting the gentlemen. i was at a loss. i kept using the certain dri, which seemed so hip in its spelling, much like how kristi is always cooler than kristy. right? right? ha.

i had the tight skin, the itching, and then three days later, there was the burning and the redness. it was like having a potluck of under my arms, except instead of savory, homemade dishes, i got stuck with... well, the itching, the tightness, the burning, and the redness. aren't you paying attention?

i called my cousin. "are you using the certain dri?" i asked.

there was a careful pause, and then she whispered into the phone, "i scratched my pits so hard, they started bleeding."

eventually, i found other remedies for my sweating, such as prolonged exposures to doing nothing strenuous or nerve-wracking. that worked well; i got a lot of drinking done. eventually, i grew out of my sweatiness and forgot about the certain dri. the other day, i remembered the whole thing when my cousin mentioned that, as a gag, she had tried that stuff on her feet.

long story short: not a good idea.

certain dri is product number 728 on my "not to buy" list. it's right below that one car freshener that smells like horse.