What's In It For Me?

Him: The book I'm reading is making me want to visit Tibet, Thailand, and Hong Kong. Maybe I could pretend to become a Mormon, and then they'd send me over there as a missionary, then I could kind of wander off and do my own thing.

Me: How would you get away with that?

Him: I'd be all like "Yeah, Mormons are awesome" and they'd be like "Cool, so we're gonna send you to Thailand to spread the word" and I'd be all like "Cool." Then when I got to the hotel I'd be like "Oh I forgot something in the cab" then sort of like wander off.

Me: Clearly you've thought this through.

Him: Also, since I'm fully vested, I figure I could probably quit my job and travel around for a year. Then I'd come back with no money -- but you'd have sold your book by then, and I figure you could just be my sugar mommy.

Me: What makes you think I'd be your sugar mommy?

Him: I'd bang you for money! I'd be your man slut!

Me: Will you do housework?

Him: Probably not. But you could pay for me to take a cooking class and I'd like cook you stuff.

Me: Fix things?

Him: I can change light bulbs!

Me: This sounds like kind of a shitty deal.

Him: You're not thinking this through! I'd 1) bang you 2) cook for you 3) play with your kitties 4) change your light bulbs and 5) bring you little Buddha statues from the far east.

Me: 1) you already bang me for free 2) I'd have to pay for a cooking class 3) the kitties get played with a lot 4) I can change a light bulb myself and 5) you'd probably bring me little Buddha statues anyway. See? Shitty deal.

Him: I am sensing a little ambivalence here. I'm just saying, think it through. Mull it over. Don't answer right now. Just think about it.

An Announcement

In Kells, Ireland, best friend extraordinaire Julie is giving birth to Kyde, a girl, as we speak. Because I'm such a responsible person and upstanding Catholic, I'm going to little Kyde's Godmother. I can't wait to meet her.

A Conversation That Should Have Probably Disturbed Me But Didn't

Me: Wow! You look really skinny!

Her: Thanks! I've been starving myself!

Boobs!

I don't really ever need a reason to get naked. Most of my neighbors have seen me in various stages of undress. Flamingo Reunion Weekends should just be renamed Naked Weekends with Girls from Summer Camp. If someone flashes a video camera at me and says, "Hey Jess, show us your tits!," I'll usually comply. I'm also rather fond of mooning.

So today, when Meg told me I could feed my exhibitionism and help raise money for breast cancer research AT THE SAME TIME, well, it doesn't get much better than that. If you'd like to anonymously show your girls to the Internet for a good cause, then by all means head on over to the Boobie-Thon site for details. They accept man boobs, too. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a photo shoot to prepare for…

You Gotta Believe in Foolish Miracles

The mood was somber as Mrs. F lit the candle. I pressed play on the tape. Revelation (Mother Earth) began playing softly. Mrs. F and I placed our hands lightly on the Ouija indicator, and then I, generally considered the paranormal expert among my 8th grade friends, got to work.

"We're looking for Randy Rhoads," I said. "Randy Rhoads, are you out there?"

Nothing happened. Despite the fact that we'd arranged the Tribute tape case, all of the pictures of him we'd cut out of Metal Edge and Hit Parader magazines, and lit a candle, nothing happened. And then something happened. The indicator moved to "Yes."

"Oh my God," I mouthed to Mrs. F. Her eyes were wide.

"Are you sure it's him?" she whispered.

"I'm not sure," I whispered back. "It could be an evil spirit trying to mess with us."

"When did you die?" I asked.

The indicator spelled out March 19, 1982.

"It's definitely him," I whispered, authoritatively.

We asked Randy Rhoads how he was doing (Fine), who he'd been hanging out with (Cliff Burton and Elvis), if he was sad he'd died (Nope) and if he thought we were pretty (Yes). At one point, Mrs. F pointed out that the candle was flickering in time with the music. We were beside ourselves.

Randy Rhoads was a big part of our lives in 8th grade. And 9th grade. And maybe even a little bit of 10th. We talked to him whenever we could. When we felt it was time, we introduced him to Julie and the Heathers. We took the Ouija board everywhere -- Mrs. F's house, my house, we even hauled it up to Julie's lake house.

Eventually, we outgrew Randy Rhoads and channeled that energy into other things -- mostly living boys our own age with long hair who played in bands. In hindsight, I don't think we ever really believed we were talking to Randy Rhoads via Ouija.

It was obviously just some dead wannabe rock star pretending to be Randy Rhoads.

Why We Love Summer

The girl, not the season. Because she plans things. Like our annual road trip. Check out this email My Sharona, Jean and I received from her yesterday:

Okay ladies. Here's where we need to make some choices:

Dates: Jean, we all decided either of the following weekends work for us, please weigh in so we can ask off work: Nov 3-5 or Nov 10-12. Girls, please check your calendars and vote.

Place: We were thinking Rhode Island might be nice (smallest state prolly means lots of worlds smallest…). Here's a little ditty on some choices. Please review and vote.

Destination: Newport, RI

Length of Drive: 3 ½ hours

About: This is a port! Which means seafood (Mmm, I'm still on the master cleanse and starving for something non-lemonade). It looks very Cape Cod, but hopefully cheaper. The buildings look old and historic.

Roadside Attractions:

• Mystery Viking tour (Newport)
  
• Fighting Seabee Statue (North Kingstown)
  
• World's Largest Rust Collection (Narragansett)
  
• Florence Nightingale's Nurse Cap (Westerly)
  
• US Submarine Force Museum (Groton, CT)
  
• Tiny Stonehedge Replica (Guilford, CT)
  
• Midnight Mary's Grave (New Haven, CT)
  
• Tom Thumb Grace (Bridgeport, CT)
  
• PT Barnum Statue (Bridgeport, CT)

Destination: Providence, RI

Length of Drive: 3 ½ hours

About: Providence is a college town which might be good for picking up younger guys and taking advantage of them.

Roadside Attractions:

• World's Largest Bug (Providence)
  
• Tree root that ate Roger Williams (Providence)
  
• Fighting Seabee Statue (North Kingstown)
  
• Florence Nightingale's Nurse Cap (Westerly)
  
• US Submarine Force Museum (Groton, CT)
  
• Tiny Stonehedge Replica (Guilford, CT)
  
• Midnight Mary's Grave (New Haven, CT)
  
• Tom Thumb Grace (Bridgeport, CT)
  
• PT Barnum Statue (Bridgeport, CT)

Destination: Ocean City, MD

Length of Drive: 4 ½ hours

About: This is an ocean town, which will most likely be deserted in the cold, it is close to DC on the other side of it. A vacation town in the summer, on the Atlantic Ocean. Perhaps more expensive lodging?

Roadside Attractions:

• Worlds largest martini (Ocean City, MD)
  
• Worlds largest fish hook (Ocean City, MD)
  
• Worlds largest mosquito (Church Creek, MD)
  
• Worlds largest crab (Crisfield, MD)
  
• World's largest ball of rubber bands (Wilmington, DE)
  
• Worlds largest skillet (Wilmington, DE)
  
• Worlds largest doctor's bag (Wilmington, DE)
  
• Mermen of Delaware (Lewes, DE)
  
• Big Amish Man (Milford, DE)
  
• Frightland (St. Georges, DE)
  
• Frontier Town (Ocean City, MD)

Destination: Annapolis, MD

Length of Drive: 3.75 hours

About: This is a small big town, near DC, a little southern feeling.

Roadside Attractions:

• World's largest ball of rubber bands (Wilmington, DE)
  
• World's largest skillet, (Wilmington, DE)
  
• World's largest doctors bag (Wilmington, DE)
  
• World's largest pencil (Glen Burnie, MD)
  
• World's largest acorn (Silver Spring, MD)
  
• Ship restaurant (Canton, MD)

Destination: East Stroudsburg, PA (Poconos)

Length of Drive: 1.5 hours

OR

Destination: Canadensis, PA (Poconos)

Length of Drive: 1.75 hours

OR

Destination: Jim Thorpe, PA (Poconos)

Length of Drive: 2.25 hours

About: One word – spas! Lots of places to stay and nature in the Poconos, only downside is since its not that far, there's less road/less roadside attractions

Roadside Attractions:

• Worlds Largest cup (Pennsburg, PA)
  
• Pie Woman (Frackville, PA)
  
• World's largest donut (Yocumtown, PA)
  
• Jack's Honey Farm (Asbury, NJ)
  
• Worlds largest incandescent light bulb (Menlo Park, NJ)
  
• SS Flagship (Union, NJ)

Destination: Washington, DC

Length of Drive: 4 hours

About: Will be more $ and more touristy, but there will be bars!

Roadside Attractions:

• World's largest ball of rubber bands (Wilmington, DE)
  
• World's largest skillet, (Wilmington, DE)
  
• World's largest doctors bag (Wilmington, DE)
  
• World's largest pencil (Glen Burnie, MD)
  
• World's largest acorn (Silver Spring, MD)
  
• World's largest typewriter eraser (Washington, DC)
  
• Ship Restaurant (Canton, MD)

Also, I'm guessing there's going to a binder for the trip as well. With tabs. It's worth noting that I was in charge of restaurants/bars for the last trip, and I scribbled a bunch of crap on the back of a receipt I printed out for something.

All Conversations, all the Time

Him: My supervisor smells like you today. She dyes her hair red, too. I don't know if that's it, but it's very distracting.

Me: Is it hair dye, or is she wearing my perfume?

Him: Maybe it's the perfume.

Me: Probably. My hair has only smelled like hair dye once when I was hanging out with you.

Him: Last night?

Me: Yes.

Him: Hm, I don't know.

Me: You gonna go hump her?

Him: Maybe a little.

You Gotta Have Charm

Jake: So Money is fucking this girl and she's nervous about taking it in the ass. I think she's an anal virgin, but his argument is that at the age of 30, she can't possibly be. But you've never done it, have you?

Me: Nope

Jake: Money and I agree that rarely has so spectacular a natural resource been so grievously squandered. As Money said, "That ass was made for crammin'."

Me: You and Money are charming.

Jake: I don't know his excuse, but I'm far too ugly not to be.

My Sharona Yells at Me

My Sharona: When I told you it was okay to talk to him, I didn't mean to call him last night.

Me: Oh.

My Sharona: I meant to wait until you saw him. You're so impatient!

Me: I know.

My Sharona: You are not allowed to drunk-dial anymore.

Me: I wasn't drunk!

My Sharona: Oh. Well, you're not allowed to sober dial, either.

A Conversation With Mom

My cell phone rings this morning while I'm at work. Caller ID says "Mom."

Me: Hi Mom. What's up?

Mom: (Very serious, bordering on frantic) Have you been paying attention to the news?

Me: Yes. Why?

Mom: Well, I know you eat a lot of vegetables. And I just wanted to make sure you know not to eat spinach. You'll get E. coli.

Me: (Trying not to laugh) Okay, Mom.

Mom: You can eat it if it's canned or frozen.

Me: Gross.

Mom: Are you home?

Me: No, I'm at work. Why would I be home?

Mom: (Impatiently) I don't know. Just don't eat spinach, okay?

An Open Letter to Kate Bosworth's Sternum

Dear Kate Bosworth's Sternum:

I do believe congratulations are in order. It's not often a sternum, of all things, gets to steal the show in such a manner.

We see a lot of celebrity body parts these days. Like nipples, for example. Why, it seems like almost daily one of those errant buggers jumps out of a dress on the red carpet. If it's not a slip, it's a see-through shirt sans bra. Those starlets are so busy, it's any wonder they even remember to get dressed, let alone put on a brassiere! But really, nipples are old news. These days, in which Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan are in a tight skankoff to acquaint the world with the intricacies of their respective vaginas, you really have to go above and beyond to get any kind of attention. Enter you, Kate Bosworth's Sternum.

The thing about the sternum is, it doesn't get much attention. In most normal people, you can't even see the sternum. I mean, you assume it's there, quietly protecting the lungs, heart and major blood vessels. Mostly, though, we as a collective society have taken you and your kind for granted. I don't want to get your hopes up, Kate Bosworth's Sternum, but I think those days of sternum invisibility are over.

Just look at you, Kate Bosworth's Sternum! What definition you have! It's like you're saying to the world, "Behold me! I am Sternum!" Some say Kate Bosworth is too skinny, I say she is a celebration of you! Just think, if the shrinking starlet trend continues, you'll be a household name. You can publicly make snide comments about Nicole Richie's sternum, and it will be all over the tabloids! Waxed vaginas and miniskirts will be a thing of the past.

So congratulations on your big debut, Kate Bosworth's sternum. May your newfound fame bring you success and adoration. Just don't forget the little people (i.e. lungs and hearts) on your rise to the top.

Love,
Jess

Happiness is Furry Beasts and a Malt Beverage

Having a diabetic cat, I'm not one of those people who can just fill up a bowl with cat food and dash off for a weekend. The Roommate has, on occasion, offered to give my little Mulder his twice-daily insulin shots, and in a pinch, I've taken her up on it. As a long-term strategy, though, it stresses her out and I'd rather not put her through it.

When Erin, who I found working in my former vet's office and who charged me next to nothing to take care of my cats, announced she'd be moving to California roughly 30 seconds after she told me, I was monumentally stressed out, especially because I had a trip coming up. The boarding places don't board cats with special needs. The cat-sitters suggested by friends didn't do shots. As a last resort, I turned to that place. That place where I live in fear that someday, I will fall madly in love, and then later find out that the object of my affection is one of those freaks who posts on Rants & Raves all day -- Craig's List.

It was on Craig's List that I found the awesome, hilarious, adorable, conscientious woman who now takes care of the aforementioned Mulder and his sidekick John Brown. We'll call her Amelie, just because. Last week, while I was in Portland, The Roommate and Amelie met for the first time. As The Roommate relayed to me, Amelie told her that she didn't think I actually had a roommate. Apparently, people lie about that because the general consensus is that people will be less likely to steal all your worldly belongings and walk around with your panties on their heads when there's a possibility someone could be coming home any minute. I had not considered this.

The Roommate also noticed that Amelie had brought a beverage with her so she'd have something to drink during the hour she spends with the cats daily in my absence. A 40-ounce bottle of Smirnoff Ice, to be exact. At one point, The Roommate almost knocked it over accidentally and apologized. Amelie said that she was just having "a little cocktail!"

After The Roommate relayed that story, we discussed whether or not Amelie's days consist of trekking from apartment to apartment to get down with OPP (Other People's Pets) and working her way through 40s of Smirnoff Ice until she gets drunk. Then we both got the same far away look in our eyes.

"That would be a pretty awesome life," The Roommate said. I had to agree.

Anniversary

I woke up late that morning. Most days I'd turn on NY1 and get my news and weather while I got ready for work. On this day, though, I only had time for a quick shower before dashing out with wet hair and an unpainted face. I decided to forego the coffee until I got to work, and walk quickly instead of taking a cab because I'd spent too much money already that week. I saw more people walking around than usual as I made my way from the Lower East Side to Tribeca, but wrongly assumed that people were out to vote in the democratic primary. I made a mental note to do so on my way home from work and continued on.

Somewhere around Soho, I realized something was very wrong. A feeling of dread began to fill me. I didn't ask anyone what was going on, because part of me knew it was something huge. Life-changing huge. And in my barely awake, not even a little bit caffeinated state, I wasn't ready.

I worked my way through the crowd to the corner of 6th Avenue and Spring St. I followed everyone else's eyes to the skyline. One half of the World Trade Center was missing. The other half was on fire. As I stood there, the second tower started to fall. There was crying. There were screams. People ran away from the smoke that wasn't going to reach where they were standing. I was frozen.

After I don't know how long, I walked the rest of the way to my office. I rode the elevator with a coworker. The shock and disbelief on his face mirrored mine. He told me his uncle worked in one of the towers. I suggested that he'd made it out in time, realizing how stupid it sounded. When I walked in, our receptionist had her head hanging out of the window. She turned to me and said, "I've been watching people jump out of the World Trade Center." There was no emotion on her face or in her voice. Just shock.

We sat at work for what felt like hours, because we didn't know where else to go. We threw out theories. We hugged each other. We cried. Eventually, we decided to walk to our respective homes and call our parents and feed the pets and take care of whatever small details we could to make it feel like we had some kind of control over something.

Growing up in Schenectady, I always knew I was home when I saw the General Electric sign lit up from the highway. Here, it was the towers. It still is, only now it's their absence that reminds me.

Every year, I think about posting about this but find I don't have anything to say. I didn't lose anyone. My experience wasn't unique. Any kind of observation I make makes me feel like an asshole. And I feel like an asshole now, but when I woke up this morning, for the first time, it didn't feel like September 11th. It felt like any other day, and I don't ever want September 11th to feel like any other day.

Happiness is...

1) An Executive Room at The Portland Paramount Hotel.

2) A crisp glass of Oregon Pinot Gris.

3) Bubble bath and jacuzzi jets.

4) The Hidden Diary of Marie Antoinette.

5) Fluffy towels and a king-sized bed to crawl into.

Okay, there's actually more to happiness, like love and security and good friends, but it's a business trip. I'll take what I can get.

Debut

Greetings from sunny Portland!

I'm taking a wee break from meetings and statistics and spreadsheets to share my film debut with you. That other film I did with the purple dildo and the goat doesn't count, obviously. I mean, I was in a K-Hole when I signed the release. It totally wouldn't hold up in court.

So without further ado, please catch my stint as Milkmaid #2 in Breaking News: Magenta Alert.

Wherein I Attempt to Reason With Jared Leto Through the Use of Visual Aids

See?