Wednesday, July 30, 2008

An Open Letter to the Spider Outside My Apartment


Every day we have the same routine. I leave for work while you hide in the bushes. I work diligently in my cubicle, and you weave an elaborate web to catch food. No one notices all the work I get done, and your silk is so thin that it can't been seen with the naked eye. We have a lot in common. We should be friends.

So why then, do you insist on building your web on the front steps every day? I unknowingly walk through it, and get it tangled on my web... bringing you with me. You crawl up my leg, I scream like Jamie Lee Curtis' in her early movies. This is not how friends treat each other.

Can we start our relationship over?

Your hopeful friend,
Suicidal Jane

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

The Gift That Keeps On Giving.

A beautiful gift left in our care.

It wasn't addressed to Mr. J, but the box was so pretty!

He had to look inside.

The anticipation!

It's a strange box, opens very weird.

Looking inside....

It's something yellow. Is that an eye?

Definitely an has eye... two eyes actually.

Is it a sun?

Is it an egg?

A Herpes Virus?!!

Yup, it's a herpes virus.

Mr. J re-wrapped it, and gave it to the man who was suppose to get it. (He wishes to remain unnamed.)

Monday, July 28, 2008

Not dead yet.

I'm not dead yet! I'm back from my forced internet vacation. I promise there will be a much more detailed chornicle of my barbaric weekend soon.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Time's a funny name for an herb.

In the beginning...

There was nothing.

Suddenly, nothing turned into something. That something swirled into a beautiful tapestry that slowly turned into time. And as time passed, which it tends to do, more somethings came into being. Those somethings grew, and some of them even got names and titles. Water, and dirt and grapefruits. Some of the somethings even got names with Capital Letters. Rome, Jane, Hollywood.

Time continued to pass, and two somethings joined for a small time to create the purpose. The purpose for all the chaotic happens that had occurred. The purpose for the nothing to become so many different something. The reason behind it all. And that purpose was...

Well, if you have a better theory, I'd like to hear it. In the mean time, I have an announcement. I will be without a computer for the next few days. Almost, but not quite a week in fact. See, the owner of the laptop that I use, will be taking his laptop to go visit his folks. (Pretty darn selfish if you ask me.) So I'll be without. However I will still be on twitter, and in this time of Internet blackout, I will be twittering A LOT. So if you aren't already following me on twitter, or if you don't even have a twitter account yet, I welcome you to start/get one. Just look at the toolbar on the left, and click where it says "follow me on twitter". You'll love it! I hope....

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Curing the emo with a yellow flower.

Ever been sad or depressed for absolutely no reason? Whether your life is great or horrible, you're in the dumps for no reason. This is what I define as Emo. And while experts agree that if you're feeling this way often, you should seek psychological help immediately, I understand that that's not always possible. So I would like to offer up a temporary solution.

Indian food. I don't know if it's the incense in the air, the spices in the curry, or the fantastic clothes on the hostess, but I can not be sad after a good meal of Indian food. (I think it's the saffron, an anti-depressant that also helps calms cramps!) Sure, most people like to gorge themselves on chocolate when feeling the blues. But that just makes me feel fat and sad. So next time you think you're about to don the mask of superhero Emo-Boy (see picture above), try some Indian food.

I'm just mad about saffron. And saffron's mad about me. Oh, I'm just mad about saffron, and she's just mad about me. They call me mellow yellow.....

Saturday, July 12, 2008

I love the theater.

This weekend I have gone to see Hellboy 2 starring Ron Perlman, and Opera Unlimited's Gondaliers starring a bunch of teenagers, small children and my little brother, Monkey Lord. I'm sure you can guess which one was a box office smash, and which one ruined any joy I'll ever have in musical theater again. (I'm kidding, it was an adorable play. And the folks at Opera Unlimited are doing an amazing job introducing opera to children who normally would never be exposed to such a beautiful art.)

Being homeschooled, I thought Monkey Lord was going to avoid all of the painfully horrible highschool drama club plays. But no... I was wrong. And thank god for that!! Because he participated in Opera Unlimited's Day Camp, I got to see him dance around the stage in this:

Gawd, I love the theater.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Public Service Announcement 2

How lazy are you, when you can't be bothered to pull the mascara wand through your lashes manually? Seriously ladies, and flamboyant gentlemen, why? Why is there a need for the SpinLash Spinning Mascara?

Friday, July 4, 2008


Happy 4th of July! Exciting day for the Americans, not so exciting for the rest of the world. But since I am an American, I'd like to share with you my most told story at 4th of July barbecues (that I am dragged to, against my will).

I was walking down the street today, and I saw a bird in a tree. But not just any bird, the bird. The bird that killed my baby sister. I knew at once that seeing it today, of all days, was no coincidence. I'd just gotten my shotgun cleaned, and I had it strapped to my back. So I pulled it out of it's strappings, held it up so I could see through it's sights, aimed at the bird.... it was the perfect shot, I pulled the trigger....... shit, I didn't have any shells loaded. I reached into my pocket and started to pull out the two shells I always keep in case of emergencies, when the bird spotted me....... It zoomed towards me, a nose dive with it's beak of death. I thought for sure that I was in for it. That the words "fuck me" would the last words I'd ever think..... a car drove between us, the bird hit it's windshield and fell down dead. But not just any car, the car. The car that killed my dog Lucky.