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Monday, January 10th, 2005
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11:07 am - The week ahead with Jennie Smash
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| Monday, August 30th, 2004
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8:52 am - Happy Monday
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So, I had jury duty last week. There's an exhaustive account of it on my Web site. Yes, I just linked to my site twice in one paragraph. I'm a horrible page view whore.
Anyway, in other news, it's Monday. You can tell it's Monday when you walk around your house sighing as you get ready. (Similarly, you can tell it's Sunday when you walk around your house muttering, "What did I do last night? What did I do?")
I am very sleepy and appear to have sand in my eye. But other than that, I can't complain. Just kidding! I totally can. But you knew that.
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(comment on this)
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| Wednesday, August 25th, 2004
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2:34 pm - Help
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| Sunday, August 22nd, 2004
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5:20 pm - Ladies and gentlemen
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Take my advice: Pull down your pants and...
...wait a second. Wrong advice. What I meant to say is that I have a Web site now, and you should go to it: Jennie Smash!
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(7 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, August 19th, 2004
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11:26 am - Big things are happening. Any second now. You just wait and see.
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I'm building a Web site.
When I say that I'm building a Web site, what I mean is that I bought a whole bunch of server space and a domain name and registered for free software and now I'm spending every free moment pounding on my keyboard, cursing, wailing and e-mailing tech support. Because I am so very stupid when it comes to things like this.
Fortunately, I have friends who are not stupid. I remembered this about three days into my Web adventure and cast myself on the mercy of my favorite Canadian Web designer. Don't e-mail him asking for help with your Web site unless you have lots of money. He's not in this business for his health, you know. Except in my case, where basically he had one of three options: 1) help me, 2) block me from IM and change his phone number, or 3) have me killed.
The best thing about having been an English major is that I don't understand how to do anything.
Anyhoo, I'm sorry I haven't been very blogtastic lately, but this is what I've been up to. It's an interesting thing: I started this project thinking I was so amusing that I definitely needed a Web site in order to showcase my amusingness, and after spending a couple days migrating over the best of my essays to the new site, I've determined that I am not at all funny, and, worse yet, am one of those people that thinks they're hysterical and is really a total bore. And how sick are you of hearing about my medical ailments? Jesus Christ. I need a new hobby.
Don't get too excited though. I'll get over it. I always do.
current mood:  tired
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(15 comments | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, August 18th, 2004
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11:26 am - Speak up, I can't hear you
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Apparently, my head is on strike. I can't hear out of my left ear right now. It's blocked up. This combined with the last vestiges of my conjunctivitis is making me feel much like Helen Keller. If you have anything to say, please speak into my right ear.
current mood:  annoyed
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(7 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, August 17th, 2004
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12:29 pm - Whine whine whine
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I find it really irritating that my phone is sending me messages to inform me that, due to the fact that I give AT&T/Cingular/Yo Mama Inc. $45 dollars a month, I am now entitled to give Yahoo! some of my money as well, in order to get even more ridiculously connected to all of my friends. Know what, AT&T/Cingular/Yo Mama/Yahoo!? My friends and I are already connected. We're so connected, we're practically wearing the same pants. I don't need another way to talk to them. They're getting sick of me as it is.
current mood: annoyed
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(4 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, August 16th, 2004
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3:14 pm - Grammar in the real world
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Last Thursday at Foley's, a gentleman grabbed my ass while I was up at the bar getting pints for myself and ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) lady_goodman.
"Excuse me," I said. "Can I help you?
"Can I grab your ass again?" he asked.
"Um, no."
"Wrong!" he said, and grabbed my ass again.
"Good point," I said, and sidled past him with my drinks. I made sure to keep my ass facing away from him.
current mood:  amused
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11:07 am - With friends like these...
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Meredith just asked me if I'm going to stop sticking doody in my eye. The answer of course is no. I am never, ever going to stop sticking doody in my eye. I was going to stop, but then she suggested it. So there. Ha ha ha ha!
current mood: sleepy
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| Saturday, August 14th, 2004
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5:01 pm - Ew
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I totally have pink eye, just like a germy kindergartener. At least, that's what my Mom says I have. She's the one with the nursing license, so I guess I should listen to her. Still, I'm not entirely convinced that I don't have necrotizing fascitis. I was going to link to that for you, but then I did a Google search and got some pictures and ... let's just say that you owe me. I'm going to have nightmares forever.
Anyway, my left eye is weeping and weeping and both are swollen and pink and my looks are gone. Isn't that tragic? Just gone. I was pretty once. Sob.
But more than that, I really am worried about flesh-eating bacteria. Really really. Because, you see, I had to readjust my contact lense in the bathroom at South Station last night, and while I washed my hands first, I'm still not convinced that I don't have some horrible form of strep growing in my eye. The way my Mom is behaving, you'd think I was nuts to think that. I mean really. Doesn't everyone worry about things like this? Don't you all think you're riddled with cancer and AIDs and flesh-eating bacteria? All the time? Doesn't it keep you up nights? No? WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU? DON'T YOU KNOW THAT THE WORLD IS FULL OF HORRIBLE DEATH-CAUSING COOTIES? AAAAHHHHHH ... GAHHHHHH ... GURGLE...
Okay, I'm better now.
current mood: itchy
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(9 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, August 13th, 2004
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10:04 am - Art appreciation
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I wound up in an art gallery again last night. I'm not sure how this keeps happening to me. I'm not cultured, at all, and I don't really understand art.
My friend Meredith, who is an artist and puts up with me because I'm fun at parties, once took me to one of her friend's shows. The guy's deal was that he took photographs of desert scenes and large empty buildings and such, and then photoshopped in a whole bunch of little people with sad expressions on their faces. I'm making it sound stupid, but it was actually pretty cool. I was so pleased that I could relate to something at a gallery that I said, in a really loud voice, "HEY! Look at all the LITTLE PEOPLE!" The rest of the crowd at the gallery compressed their collective lips (and probably sphincters) and frowned at me. And then they frowned at Meredith, as if she had failed to discipline her child.
She should have known better. The last time she'd taken me to a show, it was a performance art thing, and the artist was sitting in the center of the gallery, nude except for an old-fashioned 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea-style diver's helmet, banging on a steel girder with a hammer. I found this so hysterical that I actually had to turn around and press my face into the wall to staunch the giggling.
The worst part was afterward, at the party. Meredith introduced this poor bastard to me, and before I could stop myself, I actually said, "HEY! You were the naked guy in the Captain Nemo helmet!" He looked at me as if I were something he'd just scraped off his shoe.
Anyway, I wound up in a gallery again last night, and it was fine. I drank too much, but I was otherwise well-behaved. I hope I'm not getting old.
current mood: amused
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(12 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, August 12th, 2004
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2:56 pm - Wishing my life away
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It's hot out, okay? It's hot out and I'm pale and I only like to wear sweaters and jeans, with the occasional skirt thrown in. Yes, I dress like a Catholic school girl. No, you may not take "artistic" photographs of me.
It seems like only three months ago that I was wishing for the summer, and now here I am longing for fall. Fall is my favorite season. Always has been, even when it meant that I'd have to go back to prison for the year. (If you're wondering why a bookish lass such as myself wouldn't have wanted to go back to school every year, I'll direct you to the following evidence: exhibit A, my hair, which won't behave; exhibit B, my vocabulary, which was always that of an elderly tweed-clad college professor; exhibit C, my big fat mouth, which seems to want to flap all day long, especially when it would be much, much better to shut up.)
This year, the longing for autumn hit me even as I was enjoying my summer vacation in Oregon. Oregon isn't the sunniest place in the world, but it's sunny enough if you're on the beach, which I was. My sister's brother-in-law was very amused to find that there are people who have cover up in the sun. He stood over me as I lay under a towel, coated with 30 SPF sunblock, wearing a hat, and sunglasses, and longing for a hazmat suit, and said, "If you're going to lie there under all that stuff and sleep, why don't you just stay in bed?"
"Stay right where you are," I said. "You're blocking the light."
Fall is coming. I need a new kilt. Also some knee socks. I'll see you all at the uniform store.
current mood:  hot
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(5 comments | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, August 11th, 2004
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10:58 pm - At long last...
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10:22 pm - Update from the packie
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Beer goes fast in the heat, so Cathy and I left Isaac to his Web surfing and went down the block to Fernandez Spa for more booze. While we were standing in line, an adorable boy mugged at us and the other patrons, doing his cute little kid routine, which he probably learned on TV just like I did twenty years ago.
He grinned up us. "When I grow up," he said.
...and Cathy and I melted...
"I want ... a big, big gun." His grin widened. "A real gun! A REAL BIG GUN!"
Cathy and I stopped smiling.
current mood:  worried
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8:39 am - Quick question for you
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What do you suppose it means about the kind of day you're going to have, when you wake up to Shania Twain's "Man! I Feel like a Woman!" playing on your clock radio? I can't think it's a good sign. I may go back to bed. There could be side-stepping, or line dancing, or too much lip gloss, and frankly, despite my new and improved attitude about things, I'm just not even close to being well enough for that sort of thing.
Speaking of needing a seque in order to be able to tell you something else, my cousin Rolfe is much better groomed than I am. I stayed over at his place on Monday night, and had a dickens of a time trying to figure out which one of the four thousand bottles and jars on his sink contained his moisturizer. The one I finally selected was actually his hair gel. But it felt kind of nice and tingly, so I just left it on and went to bed. And now I look fantastic. I don't think my face has ever been more manageable.
current mood:  rejuvenated
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(6 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, August 10th, 2004
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3:13 pm - The old gray mare
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There's nothing more depressing than listening to someone natter on about how old they are, so I'll spare you the catalogue of my gray hairs and laugh lines and just tell you that in the past couple of days, I've decompensated faster than one of those sad-sack middle-aged townie bums in a Richard Russo novel.
Part of the problem is that I'm working too hard. Part of the problem is that I'm playing too hard. Whatever the sum total of the problem is, I can assure you that I'm working on fixing it. I need to get some sleep. Sleep, do you hear me? Sweet, sweet sleep...
I don't know how I dealt with this when I was a serious insomniac. I wonder if I was this boring the whole time? Don't answer that.
current mood: sleepy
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(comment on this)
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| Monday, August 9th, 2004
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9:00 am - Put on some pants, Neal Pollack
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Neal Pollack is writing for Salon again, or so I assume, given that a picture of him partially clothed keeps popping up under his byline all over the site. I can't bring myself to click on the stories, though. I've always been that person who hides behind my popcorn at horror movies.
I feel kind of bad that I hate Neal Pollack so much, since I've only read a few pieces of his, and never actually attempted his book, but I can't help it. I feel like he's Evil Eggers, for one thing. He's everything I hate about Dave Eggers, but without any his redeeming qualities. All of the cutesy cuteness, and none of the artistry. He's constantly smirking at the camera as if to say, "My, aren't I clever?" It makes me want to punch him a little.
Because I suspect that at least some of this hatred is rooted in jealousy, I've decided to try to turn my smallness into a positive, and use my ire to fuel a creative endeavor. So I wrote a little song. Ahem.
(Sing to the tune of "Hang down your head, Tom Dooley"):
Put on some pants, Neal Pollack
Cover your hairy bum
Put on some pants, Neal Pollack
I think you're kinda dumb.
Okay, that's it. What? I can't actually write music. Happy Monday, everyone!
current mood: sleepy
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12:09 am - The strange state of happiness
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I'm in a good mood lately. There's no particular reason for this. I'm just as broke as I've always been. I have the same (wonderful) friends. My family is well, but none of us has won the lottery or anything like that. I remain a much better date than a girlfriend.
But a few days ago, I was driving to work and I realized that I wasn't wondering if some boy would e-mail me or if I was going ot be fired that day or thinking about my failure to have written the Great American Novel already or at the very least to have figured out my career. Instead, I was just sort of ... happy. Singing along with the radio. Thinking about my weekend plans, maybe. But mostly, not thinking of anything at all. This realization was so shocking that I asked my shrink about it at our very next session.
"I have a problem," I told her. "I think I might be happy."
She nodded wisely. They teach a course in that at shrink school.
"I mean, I can't be sure," I said. "It's been so long. Maybe I'm fooling myself. What do you think? Do I seem happy to you?"
"You seem to be in a good place right now," she said. "Also, don't worry: Just because you're happy today doesn't mean that you have to be happy next week."
"Well, that's a relief," I said. I was only half kidding.
I've been depressed now, on and off, for three years. Even in my "off" times, I haven't really been happy. I'd forgotten what it felt like it. I was aiming for mania, I think, and hit peace by accident. Dumb luck.
The whole thing started with a boy, of course, because God forbid I be original. I didn't know him very well, and we didn't date very long. Somehow, though, this boy got to me and when we were through, I wasn't happy anymore. It was like he'd found the one loose thread on my sweater and pulled, and the whole thing unraveled.
My new and improved attitude, should it last, will probably be a bit of an adjustment for my friends. I imagine I'll have some variation on the following conversation at least a few times in the weeks ahead. If all goes well.
Me: Hey. What's up.
Friend: Oh, hey. (Funereal tone.) How ... how are you?
Me: I'm fine.
Friend: Okay. What's going on?
Me: Nothing. I just got some new shoes. They're cute.
Friend: Oh. And?
Me: I'm writing some things. How are you?
Friend: What?
Me: How are you? How are you doing? What's going on? What's up, fer chrissake?
Friend: Are you okay?
Me: I'm fine. I'm totally and completely excellent. You want to go to the beach on Saturday?
Friend: Okay, seriously. What's wrong? You're freaking me out.
Me: Nothing's wrong. I feel good. I don't have a cold or anything. Not even a tummy ache. I don't need to borrow any money. I don't need a place to crash. I haven't had a fight with anyone. I'm okay.
Friend: Are you on medication?
And so on. And no, I'm not on medication, unless you count beer. Which I've been on the whole time, as you know. So there's no explanation for this. I was bummed out; now I'm fine. Cheer up, though. My shrink says it's totally fine for me to metamorphosize back into a morose and cynical bitch next week, if I feel like it. Thank God for therapy.
current mood: happy
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Friday, August 6th, 2004
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2:53 pm - A brief conversation from my vacation
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Ma Smash: Have you been wearing your glasses the whole week?
Jennie Smash: I haven't been wearing my contact lenses.
Ma Smash: Why not?
Jennie Smash: My eyes are fat.
current mood: happy
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(2 comments | comment on this)
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| Thursday, August 5th, 2004
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2:50 pm - Apparently, my grace and coordination are hereditary
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The morning before my cousin's wedding, my uncle rented three Segway scooters and brought the whole family down to the farmer's market in Portland to see if we could kill some pedestrians. This is what engineers do instead of golf, I guess.
The guy from Segway who was supposed to make sure we didn't drive into the river or make off with the scooters was a typical laid back Oregonian post-hippie guy. He had followed us on a bicycle and made suggestions like, "try not to run over that baby" and asked questions like, "when you stop a car, do you stick your foot out and drag it along the road to slow down?" To which I replied, "Maybe." I was maybe the teensiest bit hostile about it.
The best part though happened right at the beginning. Laid back post-hippie guy gave us our helmets and turned on the scooters and said, "Don't worry. No one has ever crashed as long as I've been doing this." To which I replied, "Oh, man. You haven't met the Hubleys yet."
"I'm sure you'll be fine," he said. Whereupon, my aunt Betty put on her helmet, got on her scooter, and scooted exactly 47 feet before running smack into a telephone pole. The good news is that her arm wasn't broken. The bad news is that her bandages did not match her dress.
current mood:  lethargic
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