December 31st, 2009
I just ate breakfast with a woman who works with at-risk youth in Chicago, a music promoter from Nashville, a lady who works for the Chamber of Commerce in Nantucket and a Native American energy healer from Flint, Michigan. As I mentioned yesterday, I was hired to teach my “Humor for Health” workshop at a fancy destination spa in Austin, Texas. I’m fortunate that I was brought out here because this particular getaway costs approximately $1000 a day. It sounds like the premise for a reality show where all the people are in a high tax bracket. I won’t be able to afford this type of vacation until my baby doo-rag line takes off and makes me rich while providing babies in baby gangs some edgy fashion sense. In the meantime, I just market my services to interesting places that I cannot yet afford. My friend Carrie says, “Jax makes them feel like they need her. And they believe her.”
I’ve been doing my “Humor for Health” workshop for a few years and have been brought to fascinating places that promote wellness in the United States and Mexico. There is truly nothing more rewarding than teaching people the rules of comedy improv (which are synonymous to life) by getting them on stage and having the opportunity to act like kids again. Ego is totally stripped away because it’s not about perfection. It’s about expression. I’m blessed to be on the outside seeing pivotal shifts in people willing to step out of their comfort zones in the spirit of growth, honesty and letting go. I’ve always felt that we should strive to live compassionately, consciously and creatively. Over and over, I see my students tapping into all of these and it’s a welcome bonus that these experiences turn out to be exponentially advantageous for my own mind, body and spirit. It seems almost serendipitous that I was invited here as we enter a new year. I am gently reminded of something that I already know. In this vortex of good energy, it just seems so obvious that we need to release old emotional baggage, physical clutter and certain people in our lives who are no longer serving us. So, if we’re still in touch…congratulations. You made the cut. High Five.
It might sound harsh and counter intuitive, but moving forward and implementing a clearing philosophy has consistently held true for me. I have experienced amazing results when I have committed to it and undesirable effects from avoiding it. There is something very empowering about this deliberate act of detachment because I find myself being in control of my life as opposed to it controlling me.
On the last day of 2009, I’m writing to you from the safe bosom of Lake Austin Spa and Resort where my biggest stressor is deciding whether I should go kayaking at 2:00 or take a cooking class on meatballs. It reminds me a bit of the syllabus at my childhood sleep away camp, Camp Seafarer, where we forced to greet other campers and counselors with an enthusiastically earnest, “Ah Hoy there!”
I wish you the most joyous of New Years filled with self discovery, laughs and brightness.
“While we have the gift of life, it seems to me that the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die - whether it is our spirit, our creativity, or our glorious uniqueness.”
–Gilda Radner
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Day 144 - Jacqueline Kabat Stripper and Nun Training Facility
December 30th, 2009
This entry is being conceptualized to you from inside my brain which is residing inside Jet Blue flight 1061. I’m flying from New York to Austin, Texas to teach a comedy improv workshop at a fancy destination spa called Lake Austin Spa and Resort. Basically, I get flown out, put up in a fancy room, fed food made with love and massaged for teaching something I love for a strenuous hour a day. I can’t believe that I get paid for this shit. My life isn’t this glamorous the rest of the year. Yesterday I ate a Cliff Bar with a knife and fork to add some sophistication to my brunch. That’s a lie. I used a spork.
At 5:30 am this morning in 20 degree weather, I told my car service guy that I’m going to JFK Airport. Lucky guy. That JFK. Well, not that lucky at the end. But his legacy simply can’t be ignored because his name is attached to our airports, high schools, scholarships and pretty much anything else within the scope of reputable, class and achievement.
What about entities, objects and whatnot that fall under the umbrella of “less fortunate”? I will donate my name (more of a loan actually….with interest) to these things that deserve the opportunity to have a name preceding their function in order to gain some notoriety and leverage.
Jacqueline Kabat Large Animal Feces Removal Equipment
Jacqueline Kabat Scholarship for Mediocre Students Who Get Into Ivy League Schools Because Their Rich Parents Donated a Library
Jacqueline Kabat Terrorist Training Camp: “Our monkey bars will get you killing in no time!”
Jacqueline Kabat Highway to Hell
Jacqueline Kabat School for "Extras" in Film and Television. “Inspiring failed actors to second guess their career choice since 1988.”
Jacqueline Kabat Duct Tape: “Quiets the screams of even your peskiest of hostages.”
Jacqueline Kabat Ointment Cream for Anything You’re Embarrassed to Tell Your Lover About
This entry is being conceptualized to you from inside my brain which is residing inside Jet Blue flight 1061. I’m flying from New York to Austin, Texas to teach a comedy improv workshop at a fancy destination spa called Lake Austin Spa and Resort. Basically, I get flown out, put up in a fancy room, fed food made with love and massaged for teaching something I love for a strenuous hour a day. I can’t believe that I get paid for this shit. My life isn’t this glamorous the rest of the year. Yesterday I ate a Cliff Bar with a knife and fork to add some sophistication to my brunch. That’s a lie. I used a spork.
At 5:30 am this morning in 20 degree weather, I told my car service guy that I’m going to JFK Airport. Lucky guy. That JFK. Well, not that lucky at the end. But his legacy simply can’t be ignored because his name is attached to our airports, high schools, scholarships and pretty much anything else within the scope of reputable, class and achievement.
What about entities, objects and whatnot that fall under the umbrella of “less fortunate”? I will donate my name (more of a loan actually….with interest) to these things that deserve the opportunity to have a name preceding their function in order to gain some notoriety and leverage.
Jacqueline Kabat Large Animal Feces Removal Equipment
Jacqueline Kabat Scholarship for Mediocre Students Who Get Into Ivy League Schools Because Their Rich Parents Donated a Library
Jacqueline Kabat Terrorist Training Camp: “Our monkey bars will get you killing in no time!”
Jacqueline Kabat Highway to Hell
Jacqueline Kabat School for "Extras" in Film and Television. “Inspiring failed actors to second guess their career choice since 1988.”
Jacqueline Kabat Duct Tape: “Quiets the screams of even your peskiest of hostages.”
Jacqueline Kabat Ointment Cream for Anything You’re Embarrassed to Tell Your Lover About
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Day 143 - Steamy New Years
December 29th, 2009
(2010 has invited all the years to his ski lodge in Aspen. 1984 and 2001 are sitting in the steam room)
2001 – It’s good to see you 1984. You look well.
1984 - Thanks, I’ve been upping my confidence since I’ve been dressing a little more Miami Vice-esque. It’s a bummer that 2009, 1955 and 1972 couldn’t make it.
2001 – Yeah, 2009 was busy burying dead celebrities, 1955 is hanging out with Rosa Parks on a bus and 1972 broke her foot after tripping on some wiring at the Watergate hotel.
1984 – Tragic. I know you know a thing or two about tragedy 2001.
2001 – Oh that I do 1984. 9/11 did give me the leverage to win the tragic year sob story contest trophy. Let’s move forward.
1984 – Fair enough.
(1969 enters, removes his towel and sits in the nude)
2001 – (Disturbed) Whoa!!...1969. No free love here in 2010’s steam room.
1984 – Some coverage. Please. Get a hold of yourself.
1969 – Sorry guys. I just came from this sick concert in Woodstock, New York. For a minute, I thought that I was in a trip tent. My bad.
(1945 enters. She’s in a full coverage bathing suit and a large ribbed swim cap)
1984 – 1945, you look great!
2001 – The end of World War 2 agrees with you.
1945 – Thanks guys. I needed a good event. First, Hiroshima...and 1982 had to rub it in when I saw him last year on the booze cruise in Cabo and he had the band play, “You Dropped a Bomb on Me”.
1969 – Yeah. That was low on the groovy scale.
1945 - On top of that, I had to get a restraining order against 1979 because he went into a jealous rage after 1991 told him about my threesome with 2003 and 1985.
1969 – That’s hot 1945. But I feel you. I wrote a poem for 1968 saying it was time to say goodbye. The essence of the prose was that it wasn’t her..it was me. She was “super cool”…but I didn’t see us moving forward. 1970 and I just got each other. It was very stressful. It made me herpes flare up.
1984 – A poem? Lame. You’re better than that 1969.
2001 –The only people who should be writing poetry are E. E. Cummings, Maya Angelou and Dr. Seuss.
1945 – I agree. I went to see 1988 in a poetry slam. It was just a bad comedy show.
2001 – Yeah, poets mean well...they just get on my nerves. Anyways, it’s really cool that 2010 invited us here for New Years. I haven’t seen him much.
1984 – He’s a little nervous. It’s a lot of pressure being a new year.
2001- Totally. I had to follow the millennium. Luckily she turned out to be overrated so it made my inauguration less humiliating.
1969 – 2010 is preparing. He’s been hydrating, doing Pilates and working on some catastrophes to make his year memorable. I saw his to do list on an excel spreadsheet. He has some real zingers planned!
1984 – Do tell!
1969 – I don’t want to give too much away. But I will tell you this. He finds out who shot Kennedy, the cure for the common cold and finds out where the weapons of mass destruction are. He saves it all on a word document and then…stay with me… his computer crashes! Y2K shows up and says, “Sorry I’m ten years late"…and then destruction ensues.
2001 – That bitch! But it sounds like a great story line. Looking forward to it.
1984 – I’m getting hot. We should probably check in on 1975. She just gave birth to Jacqueline Kabat.
1945 - Oh boy. 1975 is going to need our help. Put on your game face years.
(They all take a collective deep breath in agreement and exit)
THE END.
(2010 has invited all the years to his ski lodge in Aspen. 1984 and 2001 are sitting in the steam room)
2001 – It’s good to see you 1984. You look well.
1984 - Thanks, I’ve been upping my confidence since I’ve been dressing a little more Miami Vice-esque. It’s a bummer that 2009, 1955 and 1972 couldn’t make it.
2001 – Yeah, 2009 was busy burying dead celebrities, 1955 is hanging out with Rosa Parks on a bus and 1972 broke her foot after tripping on some wiring at the Watergate hotel.
1984 – Tragic. I know you know a thing or two about tragedy 2001.
2001 – Oh that I do 1984. 9/11 did give me the leverage to win the tragic year sob story contest trophy. Let’s move forward.
1984 – Fair enough.
(1969 enters, removes his towel and sits in the nude)
2001 – (Disturbed) Whoa!!...1969. No free love here in 2010’s steam room.
1984 – Some coverage. Please. Get a hold of yourself.
1969 – Sorry guys. I just came from this sick concert in Woodstock, New York. For a minute, I thought that I was in a trip tent. My bad.
(1945 enters. She’s in a full coverage bathing suit and a large ribbed swim cap)
1984 – 1945, you look great!
2001 – The end of World War 2 agrees with you.
1945 – Thanks guys. I needed a good event. First, Hiroshima...and 1982 had to rub it in when I saw him last year on the booze cruise in Cabo and he had the band play, “You Dropped a Bomb on Me”.
1969 – Yeah. That was low on the groovy scale.
1945 - On top of that, I had to get a restraining order against 1979 because he went into a jealous rage after 1991 told him about my threesome with 2003 and 1985.
1969 – That’s hot 1945. But I feel you. I wrote a poem for 1968 saying it was time to say goodbye. The essence of the prose was that it wasn’t her..it was me. She was “super cool”…but I didn’t see us moving forward. 1970 and I just got each other. It was very stressful. It made me herpes flare up.
1984 – A poem? Lame. You’re better than that 1969.
2001 –The only people who should be writing poetry are E. E. Cummings, Maya Angelou and Dr. Seuss.
1945 – I agree. I went to see 1988 in a poetry slam. It was just a bad comedy show.
2001 – Yeah, poets mean well...they just get on my nerves. Anyways, it’s really cool that 2010 invited us here for New Years. I haven’t seen him much.
1984 – He’s a little nervous. It’s a lot of pressure being a new year.
2001- Totally. I had to follow the millennium. Luckily she turned out to be overrated so it made my inauguration less humiliating.
1969 – 2010 is preparing. He’s been hydrating, doing Pilates and working on some catastrophes to make his year memorable. I saw his to do list on an excel spreadsheet. He has some real zingers planned!
1984 – Do tell!
1969 – I don’t want to give too much away. But I will tell you this. He finds out who shot Kennedy, the cure for the common cold and finds out where the weapons of mass destruction are. He saves it all on a word document and then…stay with me… his computer crashes! Y2K shows up and says, “Sorry I’m ten years late"…and then destruction ensues.
2001 – That bitch! But it sounds like a great story line. Looking forward to it.
1984 – I’m getting hot. We should probably check in on 1975. She just gave birth to Jacqueline Kabat.
1945 - Oh boy. 1975 is going to need our help. Put on your game face years.
(They all take a collective deep breath in agreement and exit)
THE END.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Day 142 - Classic Big Blue of My Heart
December 28th, 2009
The word “classic” means something that exemplifies a particular style, something of lasting worth or with the quality of timelessness.
-Mark Twain’s “Tom Sawyer” is a classic book.
-Coca-Cola Classic claimed fame after the failure New Coke.
-Sophia Loren is a classic beauty.
-The Vintage Ford Mustang is a classic car.
-If a group of stoners responds to your joke, their response will be “classic.”
In the world of classicisms, in my mind’s eye, there is none more classic than my first automobile, an early 70’s navy blue Caprice Classic. This piece of wonder (that could easily fit the state of Rhode Island and a portion of another New England state) was originally given to my brother then passed on to me. My parents figured that we would both destroy and have mishaps during our early driving years so it made sense to bequeath onto us a car that would cause us endless shame and take up two parking spaces. Interestingly enough, the only dent that occurred was when neither of us was in the car. My brother and I went to the grocery store, got out of the car and an elderly woman lost her grip on her grocery cart and it came rolling toward our car, unaffectionately referred to as Big Blue, at an alarmingly slow speed. Interesting note, we had every opportunity to stop the collision but just froze in bewilderment. Crash. Oh well.
Big Blue was equipped with beige faux leather interior, the barely audible reminisce of the last remaining radio speaker, no power steering and a horn that sounded like a barge transporting 1500 tons of cargo. Eventually the rear view mirror became detached and never put back on our “safe” car. In addition, the classic broke up a lot of high school parties because the vehicle was often mistaken for a police car. She truly was a hot little number.
Yet whenever there is chicken shit, I try to find the chicken salad and there were some notable benefits to the eyesore on wheels. When I was the designated driver, I could fit all my friends in the car. I had a lot of friends. At one of my parties, a couple of people hooked up in the backseat of the car in the garage. Teenage hormones tend to overcome the most unfortunate of ambiances.
Once the car had been tainted by sweet high school love, her work was done and mom and dad donated the car to some Russian immigrants that had just moved to Greensboro, North Carolina. I’m sure their introduction to their new mode of transportation resulted with some Russian explicative that would translate to, “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”
At the end of the day, I do want to salute Big Blue for being such a pivotal part of my teenage experience. I do feel that she did build more character in me than if I was one of those spoiled kids whose parent gave them a new luxury sports car with a giant red bow wrapped by God on their 16th birthday. I promise you this Caprice of my heart: I will shed a nostalgic tear when I go down to North Carolina and see a bunch of pissed off Russians getting from point A to B in your plus size classic goodness.
The word “classic” means something that exemplifies a particular style, something of lasting worth or with the quality of timelessness.
-Mark Twain’s “Tom Sawyer” is a classic book.
-Coca-Cola Classic claimed fame after the failure New Coke.
-Sophia Loren is a classic beauty.
-The Vintage Ford Mustang is a classic car.
-If a group of stoners responds to your joke, their response will be “classic.”
In the world of classicisms, in my mind’s eye, there is none more classic than my first automobile, an early 70’s navy blue Caprice Classic. This piece of wonder (that could easily fit the state of Rhode Island and a portion of another New England state) was originally given to my brother then passed on to me. My parents figured that we would both destroy and have mishaps during our early driving years so it made sense to bequeath onto us a car that would cause us endless shame and take up two parking spaces. Interestingly enough, the only dent that occurred was when neither of us was in the car. My brother and I went to the grocery store, got out of the car and an elderly woman lost her grip on her grocery cart and it came rolling toward our car, unaffectionately referred to as Big Blue, at an alarmingly slow speed. Interesting note, we had every opportunity to stop the collision but just froze in bewilderment. Crash. Oh well.
Big Blue was equipped with beige faux leather interior, the barely audible reminisce of the last remaining radio speaker, no power steering and a horn that sounded like a barge transporting 1500 tons of cargo. Eventually the rear view mirror became detached and never put back on our “safe” car. In addition, the classic broke up a lot of high school parties because the vehicle was often mistaken for a police car. She truly was a hot little number.
Yet whenever there is chicken shit, I try to find the chicken salad and there were some notable benefits to the eyesore on wheels. When I was the designated driver, I could fit all my friends in the car. I had a lot of friends. At one of my parties, a couple of people hooked up in the backseat of the car in the garage. Teenage hormones tend to overcome the most unfortunate of ambiances.
Once the car had been tainted by sweet high school love, her work was done and mom and dad donated the car to some Russian immigrants that had just moved to Greensboro, North Carolina. I’m sure their introduction to their new mode of transportation resulted with some Russian explicative that would translate to, “You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”
At the end of the day, I do want to salute Big Blue for being such a pivotal part of my teenage experience. I do feel that she did build more character in me than if I was one of those spoiled kids whose parent gave them a new luxury sports car with a giant red bow wrapped by God on their 16th birthday. I promise you this Caprice of my heart: I will shed a nostalgic tear when I go down to North Carolina and see a bunch of pissed off Russians getting from point A to B in your plus size classic goodness.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Day 141 - Nonchalant Observer -Installment #4 – Brunch at Dad’s
December 27th, 2009
Today is my fourth installment of my “Nonchalant Observer” series. On day 22, I observed (judged) what crossed my path as I sat with my coffee on my Brooklyn stoop. On day 38, I took you with me to the happenings of beach life in the surfing town of Hermosa Beach, California. On day 112, we crossed the age gap and hit a retirement community. During happy hour. Today, you are coming with me to my father and stepmother’s house for brunch in Westchester, New York.
They invited about 20 people ranging from the ages of 4 to 64. Most of the cast of characters were my dad’s cousins with strong New York accents, amazing senses of humor and people you'd still want to be friends with even if you weren't related to them. Basically, they’re the fun part of the family. Every time I see them, we say that we need to make more of an effort to get together between these family gatherings. We don’t. We should. We will.
I made detailed notes from 1:00pm-2:00pm on Sunday December 27, 2009.
The following is presented in “real” time:
1:00 – I walk into my dad’s house and the first thing I see is a beautifully displayed ham. My stepmother is Martha Stewart…without the pretentiousness and criminal record. I have never eaten ham in my entire life and now I’ve had it twice in three days. I'm a sassy Jewess.
1:05 –I’m having a pleasant conversation with a cousin who has eye makeup smeared down her face. Do I say something? I don’t.
1:08 – I notice an older relative getting cracker crumbs all over the floor. We blame the kids.
1:12 – The pimento cheese spread is a big hit. What's the point of the crackers? If I were alone, I would shamelessly just eat it with a spoon. Or spork.
1:17 – A group of us are discussing my grandmother’ 90th birthday in March. Grandma likes to repeat stories. If she writes her memoirs, chapters 3 and 7 would be the same.
1:21 – My cousin with smeared eyeliner returns from the bathroom and said that I should have told her about the makeup fiasco. Awkward pause. We laugh. We drink.
1:25 - I go to the bathroom and don’t wash my hands.
1:26 – I go back to the bathroom and wash my hands.
1:29 – My dad and stepmom’s cockapoo puppy escapes out the back door. Mild Panic. The dog is sitting on the front porch. She couldn’t reach the doorbell.
1:33 – Someone farted. We blame the kids.
1:38 – A group of people start asking me about my comedy career. I sound way more exciting than I actually am.
1:41 - In between 3 pieces of biscotti and eating the chocolate layer off the napoleon, someone tells me that l look thin. I say thank you. With my mouth full.
1:46 - After some wine and coffee, I decide that I should drink some water. I haven’t hydrated since 1997. I take one sip and then misplace my glass.
1:49– The dog starts barking at the 4 year old. Dad says, “The dog doesn’t like her dress.”
1:56 - Half kidding, I tell my 22 year old cousin that I need to drink more and do more drugs. He says that he can hook me up. Immediately after, my older cousin tells me that I need to hang out at his lake house (aka the party house.) Why don’t I see these people more?
1:59 - The Giants game comes on and they don’t start off strong. We blame the kids.
Today is my fourth installment of my “Nonchalant Observer” series. On day 22, I observed (judged) what crossed my path as I sat with my coffee on my Brooklyn stoop. On day 38, I took you with me to the happenings of beach life in the surfing town of Hermosa Beach, California. On day 112, we crossed the age gap and hit a retirement community. During happy hour. Today, you are coming with me to my father and stepmother’s house for brunch in Westchester, New York.
They invited about 20 people ranging from the ages of 4 to 64. Most of the cast of characters were my dad’s cousins with strong New York accents, amazing senses of humor and people you'd still want to be friends with even if you weren't related to them. Basically, they’re the fun part of the family. Every time I see them, we say that we need to make more of an effort to get together between these family gatherings. We don’t. We should. We will.
I made detailed notes from 1:00pm-2:00pm on Sunday December 27, 2009.
The following is presented in “real” time:
1:00 – I walk into my dad’s house and the first thing I see is a beautifully displayed ham. My stepmother is Martha Stewart…without the pretentiousness and criminal record. I have never eaten ham in my entire life and now I’ve had it twice in three days. I'm a sassy Jewess.
1:05 –I’m having a pleasant conversation with a cousin who has eye makeup smeared down her face. Do I say something? I don’t.
1:08 – I notice an older relative getting cracker crumbs all over the floor. We blame the kids.
1:12 – The pimento cheese spread is a big hit. What's the point of the crackers? If I were alone, I would shamelessly just eat it with a spoon. Or spork.
1:17 – A group of us are discussing my grandmother’ 90th birthday in March. Grandma likes to repeat stories. If she writes her memoirs, chapters 3 and 7 would be the same.
1:21 – My cousin with smeared eyeliner returns from the bathroom and said that I should have told her about the makeup fiasco. Awkward pause. We laugh. We drink.
1:25 - I go to the bathroom and don’t wash my hands.
1:26 – I go back to the bathroom and wash my hands.
1:29 – My dad and stepmom’s cockapoo puppy escapes out the back door. Mild Panic. The dog is sitting on the front porch. She couldn’t reach the doorbell.
1:33 – Someone farted. We blame the kids.
1:38 – A group of people start asking me about my comedy career. I sound way more exciting than I actually am.
1:41 - In between 3 pieces of biscotti and eating the chocolate layer off the napoleon, someone tells me that l look thin. I say thank you. With my mouth full.
1:46 - After some wine and coffee, I decide that I should drink some water. I haven’t hydrated since 1997. I take one sip and then misplace my glass.
1:49– The dog starts barking at the 4 year old. Dad says, “The dog doesn’t like her dress.”
1:56 - Half kidding, I tell my 22 year old cousin that I need to drink more and do more drugs. He says that he can hook me up. Immediately after, my older cousin tells me that I need to hang out at his lake house (aka the party house.) Why don’t I see these people more?
1:59 - The Giants game comes on and they don’t start off strong. We blame the kids.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Day 140 - Damn – Ham
December 26th, 2009
The preacher’s wife goes into the local butcher to buy some meat for dinner. The butcher tells her that he is out of everything except Damn-Ham. The woman was shocked with his bad language and then the butcher explained that was the brand of the ham. Relieved, the woman buys the ham and goes home to cook it for her family. When the preacher walked in the house and says, "That ham smells wonderful." His wife replies "That's a Damn-Ham." The preacher was surprised by his wife's use of profanity. She showed him the wrapper and explained that was the brand name of the ham. They sat down for dinner and the preacher says to his son, "Son, pass me the Damn-Ham." and his son replies, "That's the spirit dad, now pass me the fuckin’ potatoes."
This was the first dirty joke that I was ever told and just loved repeating it to family, friends and random strangers when I was around eight years old. It’s phenomenal that just a few “damns” and a “fuckin’” land this gripping prose in the obscene category. Otherwise, it’s just a boring tale of a pious family having a meal.
The original meaning of the adjective profane (Latin: "outside of or in front of the temple") referred to items not belonging to the church. Clearly this was misread considering 9 out of 10 jokes involving profanity involve a priest and a rabbi.
I’m not a deliberate user of profanity unless it’s delivered in an intellectual manner. I tend to find exaggerated vulgarity to be a crutch for poor writing and frankly, quite boring. However, I want to conduct a test and add some profane verbiage to some “best of” quotes just to see how easy a few letters that compose a word can alter context.
“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation and some motherfuckers, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”
"You like me cocksuckers, you really like me."
"My Mama always said, 'Life was like a box of chocolates; you never know the shit you're gonna get.'"
I’ll be back. Fuck. Maybe not.
Bond. James Cocksucking Bond."
The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Unless you’re a pussy"
The preacher’s wife goes into the local butcher to buy some meat for dinner. The butcher tells her that he is out of everything except Damn-Ham. The woman was shocked with his bad language and then the butcher explained that was the brand of the ham. Relieved, the woman buys the ham and goes home to cook it for her family. When the preacher walked in the house and says, "That ham smells wonderful." His wife replies "That's a Damn-Ham." The preacher was surprised by his wife's use of profanity. She showed him the wrapper and explained that was the brand name of the ham. They sat down for dinner and the preacher says to his son, "Son, pass me the Damn-Ham." and his son replies, "That's the spirit dad, now pass me the fuckin’ potatoes."
This was the first dirty joke that I was ever told and just loved repeating it to family, friends and random strangers when I was around eight years old. It’s phenomenal that just a few “damns” and a “fuckin’” land this gripping prose in the obscene category. Otherwise, it’s just a boring tale of a pious family having a meal.
The original meaning of the adjective profane (Latin: "outside of or in front of the temple") referred to items not belonging to the church. Clearly this was misread considering 9 out of 10 jokes involving profanity involve a priest and a rabbi.
I’m not a deliberate user of profanity unless it’s delivered in an intellectual manner. I tend to find exaggerated vulgarity to be a crutch for poor writing and frankly, quite boring. However, I want to conduct a test and add some profane verbiage to some “best of” quotes just to see how easy a few letters that compose a word can alter context.
“Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation and some motherfuckers, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”
"You like me cocksuckers, you really like me."
"My Mama always said, 'Life was like a box of chocolates; you never know the shit you're gonna get.'"
I’ll be back. Fuck. Maybe not.
Bond. James Cocksucking Bond."
The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. Unless you’re a pussy"
Friday, December 25, 2009
Day 139 - Jesus & Moses of T.G.I. Friday's
December 25th, 2009
(Jesus glides into T.G.I. Friday's restaurant, Moses waves him down from a booth and Jesus takes a seat)
MOSES: JC!
JESUS: Sorry I'm late man. I was writing my obligatory Facebook status update thanking everyone for the birthday wishes.
MOSES: Happy Birthday man. You don’t look one day past 33! Great robe.
JESUS: Thanks Mo. I got it at Today’s Man. It really breathes well. I love Fridays. I haven’t been here since my last supper. You’re looking well too.
MOSES - My cardio workout was on hold because I was in a cast for a few months after dropping a tablet of commandments on my foot.
JESUS: OMFG
MOSES: Seriously, I credit my weight loss to 40 years of wandering through the desert. And Pilates.
(Waitress walks over)
WAITRESS: Welcome to T.G.I. Friday's, where every day is a Friday.
MOSES: ..or where every day is Shabbat…(reading name tag)..Jolene. Great Flair.
JESUS: Just be careful my child. My first job was at a Fridays in Nazareth. My dad, ya know God, said it would build character. I tripped over the barbecue sauce display and all the pens stabbed me all over my body. (Opens robe to reveal bodily marks and sores) Everyone seemed to think these stigmata were from the crucifixion. But no. No they are not.
WAITRESS: Ew. Thanks for the heads up. Can I get you two central figures of religion something to drink?
JESUS – I’ll have some holy water. No ice. With a slice of lemon.
MOSES – I’ll have a Manischewitz daiquiri with some extra umbrellas.
(Waitress walks off)
JESUS: Umbrellas?
MOSES: Yeah, I was getting high with Noah in his shed yesterday while he was working on this ark bullshit. He asked me to hook him up with some umbrellas.
JESUS: That’s so weird because he just texted me asking for a male and female caribou.
MOSES– He’s been acting off ever since Mary Magdalene gave him chlamydia.
JESUS – Yeah, I tapped that too.
MOSES – Me too. She said that she was impressed with the length and girth of my staff.
JESUS: Nice (looking at menu) I just love the potatoes skins. Can you eat bacon?
MOSES: I love the bacon. Jacqueline Kabat wrote a blog entry called Day 16 – Bacon Fetish(http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-16-bacon-fetish.html) and I’ve been eating swine ever since.
JESUS: I dated Jax briefly…
MOSES: No way!
JESUS: Yeah. Great girl..just not enough in common. I walk on water and she’s a scuba diver.
MOSES: It happens. Let’ go ahead and order I don’t have a lot of time. The Red Sea isn’t going to part itself.
JESUS: Yeah, I’m meeting Judas for racquetball.
MOSES: Well, it’s just great to see you and catch up on this “Religion” (he finger quotes) game. We are pretty kicks ass in convincing people to believe, as George Carlin said, “The greatest bullshit story ever told.”
JESUS: We’re awesome.
(They high five)
The End
(Jesus glides into T.G.I. Friday's restaurant, Moses waves him down from a booth and Jesus takes a seat)
MOSES: JC!
JESUS: Sorry I'm late man. I was writing my obligatory Facebook status update thanking everyone for the birthday wishes.
MOSES: Happy Birthday man. You don’t look one day past 33! Great robe.
JESUS: Thanks Mo. I got it at Today’s Man. It really breathes well. I love Fridays. I haven’t been here since my last supper. You’re looking well too.
MOSES - My cardio workout was on hold because I was in a cast for a few months after dropping a tablet of commandments on my foot.
JESUS: OMFG
MOSES: Seriously, I credit my weight loss to 40 years of wandering through the desert. And Pilates.
(Waitress walks over)
WAITRESS: Welcome to T.G.I. Friday's, where every day is a Friday.
MOSES: ..or where every day is Shabbat…(reading name tag)..Jolene. Great Flair.
JESUS: Just be careful my child. My first job was at a Fridays in Nazareth. My dad, ya know God, said it would build character. I tripped over the barbecue sauce display and all the pens stabbed me all over my body. (Opens robe to reveal bodily marks and sores) Everyone seemed to think these stigmata were from the crucifixion. But no. No they are not.
WAITRESS: Ew. Thanks for the heads up. Can I get you two central figures of religion something to drink?
JESUS – I’ll have some holy water. No ice. With a slice of lemon.
MOSES – I’ll have a Manischewitz daiquiri with some extra umbrellas.
(Waitress walks off)
JESUS: Umbrellas?
MOSES: Yeah, I was getting high with Noah in his shed yesterday while he was working on this ark bullshit. He asked me to hook him up with some umbrellas.
JESUS: That’s so weird because he just texted me asking for a male and female caribou.
MOSES– He’s been acting off ever since Mary Magdalene gave him chlamydia.
JESUS – Yeah, I tapped that too.
MOSES – Me too. She said that she was impressed with the length and girth of my staff.
JESUS: Nice (looking at menu) I just love the potatoes skins. Can you eat bacon?
MOSES: I love the bacon. Jacqueline Kabat wrote a blog entry called Day 16 – Bacon Fetish(http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-16-bacon-fetish.html) and I’ve been eating swine ever since.
JESUS: I dated Jax briefly…
MOSES: No way!
JESUS: Yeah. Great girl..just not enough in common. I walk on water and she’s a scuba diver.
MOSES: It happens. Let’ go ahead and order I don’t have a lot of time. The Red Sea isn’t going to part itself.
JESUS: Yeah, I’m meeting Judas for racquetball.
MOSES: Well, it’s just great to see you and catch up on this “Religion” (he finger quotes) game. We are pretty kicks ass in convincing people to believe, as George Carlin said, “The greatest bullshit story ever told.”
JESUS: We’re awesome.
(They high five)
The End
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Day 138 – So You Think You Can Mate?
December 24th, 2009
I’m not an alcoholic. Oh, I’ve tried. It just never takes. Jews generally have failed attempts at alcoholism because we’re too busy with other vices that are generally centered around edibles and shame.
The reason I mention this up front is because the original opening sentence of today’s entry was, “Last night I was at Bar 6 with a friend…” and I realized that several of my beginning lines involve me at an establishment that pushes the only legal drug. The reality is that bars are a sensical locale to meet someone and it has a more glamorous tone than, “Last night I was at the DMV again to meet…..”
Bar 6 is a French Bistro/Moroccan bar and restaurant that was my reliable neighborhood favorite hangout, my “Cheers” if you will, when I lived in Greenwich Village. My friend stepped out for a smoke (it’s a French place…so it inspires nicotine inhalation. And berets.) and I was left inside at the bar seated next to a couple that was clearly on a blind date. Very few things are more fun than observing this scenario in action.
The truth is, I was rather relieved that I was on the outside looking in as opposed to the inside looking in. I had a lot of set ups years ago where Bar 6 was the initial meet up spot. It’s a safe place for me.
I find that a lot of people who do the setting up have good intentions but quite frankly, aren’t that good at it. “You’re single. He’s single! You have a heartbeat. He does too!” From my understanding, there are people who have made careers out of being professional matchmakers. And they’re single.
In any case, I was left solo at the bar with the opportunity to reflect on blind dates past. I encountered:
-Mr. Nesbbishy Jewish guy with a cold
-Mr. I need a green card. You know where I’m going with this. Right?
-Mr. Even though I’m married...I’m a big fan of dating
Often the dating ritual strikes me as an inharmonious union that combines a National Geographic special and liquor. It basically comes down to this:
-You meet a member of the opposite sex
-You quickly assess if your pheromones are in sync
-One of two things will happen. You mate or deliver a poorly thought out exit strategy excuse like, “I have to go....I have brunch plans with a friend.” It's 7pm.
For better or for worse, I think I’m relatively intuitive and am pretty good at setting people up. No marriages yet...but I’ve gotten a lot of people laid. You know who you are. You're welcome.
So there I was sitting next to this painfully awkward blind date in action. Or lack of action. Part of me wanted to be the short fused temperamental director who throws a table and pushes drinks off the bar while screaming, “This isn’t working for me!” I would then pass out the revised script for the final scene.
Man- Well this was a shitty date
Woman- Yeah, it really was.
Man – I have zero interest in spending my life with you. However, I would be interested in a one night stand that involves noncommittal, unconnected sex that will undoubtedly leave us feeling hollow and empty tomorrow.
Woman - We're on the same page! You got it. Just promise not to call me the next day!
(The both laugh, high five and get in a cab)
THE END
I’m not an alcoholic. Oh, I’ve tried. It just never takes. Jews generally have failed attempts at alcoholism because we’re too busy with other vices that are generally centered around edibles and shame.
The reason I mention this up front is because the original opening sentence of today’s entry was, “Last night I was at Bar 6 with a friend…” and I realized that several of my beginning lines involve me at an establishment that pushes the only legal drug. The reality is that bars are a sensical locale to meet someone and it has a more glamorous tone than, “Last night I was at the DMV again to meet…..”
Bar 6 is a French Bistro/Moroccan bar and restaurant that was my reliable neighborhood favorite hangout, my “Cheers” if you will, when I lived in Greenwich Village. My friend stepped out for a smoke (it’s a French place…so it inspires nicotine inhalation. And berets.) and I was left inside at the bar seated next to a couple that was clearly on a blind date. Very few things are more fun than observing this scenario in action.
The truth is, I was rather relieved that I was on the outside looking in as opposed to the inside looking in. I had a lot of set ups years ago where Bar 6 was the initial meet up spot. It’s a safe place for me.
I find that a lot of people who do the setting up have good intentions but quite frankly, aren’t that good at it. “You’re single. He’s single! You have a heartbeat. He does too!” From my understanding, there are people who have made careers out of being professional matchmakers. And they’re single.
In any case, I was left solo at the bar with the opportunity to reflect on blind dates past. I encountered:
-Mr. Nesbbishy Jewish guy with a cold
-Mr. I need a green card. You know where I’m going with this. Right?
-Mr. Even though I’m married...I’m a big fan of dating
Often the dating ritual strikes me as an inharmonious union that combines a National Geographic special and liquor. It basically comes down to this:
-You meet a member of the opposite sex
-You quickly assess if your pheromones are in sync
-One of two things will happen. You mate or deliver a poorly thought out exit strategy excuse like, “I have to go....I have brunch plans with a friend.” It's 7pm.
For better or for worse, I think I’m relatively intuitive and am pretty good at setting people up. No marriages yet...but I’ve gotten a lot of people laid. You know who you are. You're welcome.
So there I was sitting next to this painfully awkward blind date in action. Or lack of action. Part of me wanted to be the short fused temperamental director who throws a table and pushes drinks off the bar while screaming, “This isn’t working for me!” I would then pass out the revised script for the final scene.
Man- Well this was a shitty date
Woman- Yeah, it really was.
Man – I have zero interest in spending my life with you. However, I would be interested in a one night stand that involves noncommittal, unconnected sex that will undoubtedly leave us feeling hollow and empty tomorrow.
Woman - We're on the same page! You got it. Just promise not to call me the next day!
(The both laugh, high five and get in a cab)
THE END
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Day 137 - Toddy and Avoidance
December 23rd, 2009
Last night I was sitting at a local bar with a hot toddy and taking notes in my ghetto spiral notebook. It occurred to me that I’ve been spending more time writing these days than getting on stage. I need to shift that. Immediately. I love hosting and performing at the clubs but every comic knows that the open mics are where you improve, grow and sometimes suffer in order to perfect your work. For my take on open mics, feel free to peruse, Day 104 - The Mic That is Open: http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-104-mic-that-is-open.html
4 ½ out of 5 people (some are indeed dentists) ask me how I can do something as frightening, gut wrenching and vulnerable as stand-up comedy. The truth is, I ask myself the same thing. Sure, there is the “If I can do this I can do anything” element. But I feel most comics simply don’t have a choice. It’s the medium we need to air our grievances, make sense of the nonsensical and just to be heard. We’re a sensitive and complicated breed.
The book “Comic Insights, The Art of Stand-up Comedy” is my comedy bible. Jazz musician/comic/writer/actor, Franklyn Ajaye conducts truthful and often profound interviews with legendary comedians who candidly reveal what they do and why they do it. I was so engulfed in this book when I was reading it on the subway last year that I might have gotten mugged and didn’t notice. Or care.
Below are some passages that I resonated with and read over and over to remind myself why I partake in a craft that sometimes makes me want to vomit...then tends to remind me that I’m alive.
Louie Anderson on Richard Pryor: “This guy is hiding absolutely nothing from me, and he’s being completely honest, but yet he’s funny and he’s right and he’s making me think but he’s not making me feel guilty about what I am.”
Richard Belzer: “The tragedy that visits most great artists was not consciously sought out by them, but introduced into their lives. Creativity’s a blessing and a curse. If you don’t tend to it, it can do other things to you. That’s why we feel so good when we’re being creative – because we’re doing the right thing.”
Jay Leno on excessive profanity: “’Def Comedy Jam’ shows, I’m not shocked or offended, I’m just bored.”
Jay Leno on staying grounded- “The thing about comedy is that you don’t wield any power with comedy, you just reinforce what people already believe.”
Paul Reiser: “Most people, myself included, watch comedians on TV and go, ‘I could do that.’ Watching a mediocre comedian will trigger you. You’re not inspired by greatness, you’re inspired by mediocrity.”
Rosanne: “That’s what we comedians do- organize the world according to what we feel is right.”
Gary Shandling: “I just started talking as the audience was a shrink.” “I had a bad break-up with a woman…and went up on stage and said, ‘I broke up with my girlfriend because she moved in with another guy.’”
Gary Shandling on how to be free on stage: “I think you can only be on stage what you are in life.”
Jerry Seinfeld on the goal of comedy: “To become yourself.”
So the above generally do serve the purpose of putting some wind in my sails when I’m sitting in bars with a hot toddy when I should be in front of an audience. During the times when I have an intense disinterest in getting myself on stage, I must resort to "Bill Hicks's Principles of Comedy". Along with enlightening people to think for themselves, he basically says the same things as these other comics.…just with a little more sass. Sometimes I need tough love.
• The Bill Hicks Principles of Comedy
1. If you can be yourself on stage nobody else can be you and you have the law of supply and demand covered.
2. The act is something you fall back on if you can't think of anything else to say.
3. Only do what you think is funny, never just what you think they will like, even though it's not that funny to you.
4. Never ask them is this funny - you tell them this is funny.
5. You are not married to any of this shit - if something happens, taking you off on a tangent, NEVER go back and finish a bit, just move on.
6. NEVER ask the audience "How You Doing?". People who do that can't think of an opening line. They came to see you to tell them how they're doing, asking that stupid question up front just digs a whole. This is The Most Common Mistake made by performers. I want to leave as soon as they say that.
7. Write what entertains you. If you can't be funny, be interesting. You haven't lost the crowd. Have something to say and then do it in a funny way.
8. I close my eyes and walk out there and that's where I start, Honest.
9. Listen to what you are saying, ask yourself, "Why am I saying it and is it Necessary?" (This will filter all your material and cut the unnecessary words, economy of words)
10. Play to the top of the intelligence of the room. There aren't any bad crowds, just wrong choices.
11. Remember this is the hardest thing there is to do. If you can do this you can do anything.
12. I love my cracker roots. Get to know your family, be friends with them.
Last night I was sitting at a local bar with a hot toddy and taking notes in my ghetto spiral notebook. It occurred to me that I’ve been spending more time writing these days than getting on stage. I need to shift that. Immediately. I love hosting and performing at the clubs but every comic knows that the open mics are where you improve, grow and sometimes suffer in order to perfect your work. For my take on open mics, feel free to peruse, Day 104 - The Mic That is Open: http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-104-mic-that-is-open.html
4 ½ out of 5 people (some are indeed dentists) ask me how I can do something as frightening, gut wrenching and vulnerable as stand-up comedy. The truth is, I ask myself the same thing. Sure, there is the “If I can do this I can do anything” element. But I feel most comics simply don’t have a choice. It’s the medium we need to air our grievances, make sense of the nonsensical and just to be heard. We’re a sensitive and complicated breed.
The book “Comic Insights, The Art of Stand-up Comedy” is my comedy bible. Jazz musician/comic/writer/actor, Franklyn Ajaye conducts truthful and often profound interviews with legendary comedians who candidly reveal what they do and why they do it. I was so engulfed in this book when I was reading it on the subway last year that I might have gotten mugged and didn’t notice. Or care.
Below are some passages that I resonated with and read over and over to remind myself why I partake in a craft that sometimes makes me want to vomit...then tends to remind me that I’m alive.
Louie Anderson on Richard Pryor: “This guy is hiding absolutely nothing from me, and he’s being completely honest, but yet he’s funny and he’s right and he’s making me think but he’s not making me feel guilty about what I am.”
Richard Belzer: “The tragedy that visits most great artists was not consciously sought out by them, but introduced into their lives. Creativity’s a blessing and a curse. If you don’t tend to it, it can do other things to you. That’s why we feel so good when we’re being creative – because we’re doing the right thing.”
Jay Leno on excessive profanity: “’Def Comedy Jam’ shows, I’m not shocked or offended, I’m just bored.”
Jay Leno on staying grounded- “The thing about comedy is that you don’t wield any power with comedy, you just reinforce what people already believe.”
Paul Reiser: “Most people, myself included, watch comedians on TV and go, ‘I could do that.’ Watching a mediocre comedian will trigger you. You’re not inspired by greatness, you’re inspired by mediocrity.”
Rosanne: “That’s what we comedians do- organize the world according to what we feel is right.”
Gary Shandling: “I just started talking as the audience was a shrink.” “I had a bad break-up with a woman…and went up on stage and said, ‘I broke up with my girlfriend because she moved in with another guy.’”
Gary Shandling on how to be free on stage: “I think you can only be on stage what you are in life.”
Jerry Seinfeld on the goal of comedy: “To become yourself.”
So the above generally do serve the purpose of putting some wind in my sails when I’m sitting in bars with a hot toddy when I should be in front of an audience. During the times when I have an intense disinterest in getting myself on stage, I must resort to "Bill Hicks's Principles of Comedy". Along with enlightening people to think for themselves, he basically says the same things as these other comics.…just with a little more sass. Sometimes I need tough love.
• The Bill Hicks Principles of Comedy
1. If you can be yourself on stage nobody else can be you and you have the law of supply and demand covered.
2. The act is something you fall back on if you can't think of anything else to say.
3. Only do what you think is funny, never just what you think they will like, even though it's not that funny to you.
4. Never ask them is this funny - you tell them this is funny.
5. You are not married to any of this shit - if something happens, taking you off on a tangent, NEVER go back and finish a bit, just move on.
6. NEVER ask the audience "How You Doing?". People who do that can't think of an opening line. They came to see you to tell them how they're doing, asking that stupid question up front just digs a whole. This is The Most Common Mistake made by performers. I want to leave as soon as they say that.
7. Write what entertains you. If you can't be funny, be interesting. You haven't lost the crowd. Have something to say and then do it in a funny way.
8. I close my eyes and walk out there and that's where I start, Honest.
9. Listen to what you are saying, ask yourself, "Why am I saying it and is it Necessary?" (This will filter all your material and cut the unnecessary words, economy of words)
10. Play to the top of the intelligence of the room. There aren't any bad crowds, just wrong choices.
11. Remember this is the hardest thing there is to do. If you can do this you can do anything.
12. I love my cracker roots. Get to know your family, be friends with them.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Day 136- Shawarma Pizza
December 22nd, 2009
Last night I ate at Zaytoons, a small Brooklyn neighborhood BYOB Middle Eastern restaurant. My companion (that word makes me feel British for reasons unknown) and I ended up ordering the highly recommended Shawarma Pizza. I can assure you this union was a carnival in my mouth and will most likely prove to be an explosion in my digestive system at some point today. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I imagine that the conceptualization of combining these two succulent delectable delights joined forces by accident or with the aid of some higher power that has no patience for vegetarians and vegans.
Let’s write this. Shall we? The scene takes place in Turkey because it’s betweenish Italy and the Middle Eastern countries. Two men are rounding separate corners. Luigi is eating pizza and Akbar is eating Shawarma. They collide and the dialogue is as follows:
Luigi - Hey! You stuck your sandwich-like wrap of shaved lamb, goat, chicken, turkey, beef, and other halal mixtures of meats in my oven-baked round bread covered with a tomato-based sauce and cheese!
Akbar – No! You stuck your oven-baked round bread covered with a tomato-based sauce and cheese in my sandwich-like wrap of shaved lamb, goat, chicken, turkey, beef, and other halal mixtures of meats!
Then the light bulb went off and I shamelessly devoured that light bulb last night. Because as we know, even if I get fat…I have a great personality.
Below are a few other great unions in history that really gained momentum when combining their best of attributes and joined forces for a common purpose. Standing on their own..they’re just…eh…
Men in power and infidelity
Reality shows and idiots
Bed & Bed AND Beyond
Canines and ass sniffing
Clippy the pompous somersaulting Microsoft Word paperclip showing up against
my will and makes me feel bad about myself
Codependents and codependents
Drunkenness and bad decision making with lack of accountability
Truckers and hemorrhoids
Crest whitening strips and Joe Biden
Tom cruise and intergalactic confederacies
Russian women and waxing
Cosmopolitans and girl who still watch “Sex and the City”
Gay men and jazz hands
Last night I ate at Zaytoons, a small Brooklyn neighborhood BYOB Middle Eastern restaurant. My companion (that word makes me feel British for reasons unknown) and I ended up ordering the highly recommended Shawarma Pizza. I can assure you this union was a carnival in my mouth and will most likely prove to be an explosion in my digestive system at some point today. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I imagine that the conceptualization of combining these two succulent delectable delights joined forces by accident or with the aid of some higher power that has no patience for vegetarians and vegans.
Let’s write this. Shall we? The scene takes place in Turkey because it’s betweenish Italy and the Middle Eastern countries. Two men are rounding separate corners. Luigi is eating pizza and Akbar is eating Shawarma. They collide and the dialogue is as follows:
Luigi - Hey! You stuck your sandwich-like wrap of shaved lamb, goat, chicken, turkey, beef, and other halal mixtures of meats in my oven-baked round bread covered with a tomato-based sauce and cheese!
Akbar – No! You stuck your oven-baked round bread covered with a tomato-based sauce and cheese in my sandwich-like wrap of shaved lamb, goat, chicken, turkey, beef, and other halal mixtures of meats!
Then the light bulb went off and I shamelessly devoured that light bulb last night. Because as we know, even if I get fat…I have a great personality.
Below are a few other great unions in history that really gained momentum when combining their best of attributes and joined forces for a common purpose. Standing on their own..they’re just…eh…
Men in power and infidelity
Reality shows and idiots
Bed & Bed AND Beyond
Canines and ass sniffing
Clippy the pompous somersaulting Microsoft Word paperclip showing up against
my will and makes me feel bad about myself
Codependents and codependents
Drunkenness and bad decision making with lack of accountability
Truckers and hemorrhoids
Crest whitening strips and Joe Biden
Tom cruise and intergalactic confederacies
Russian women and waxing
Cosmopolitans and girl who still watch “Sex and the City”
Gay men and jazz hands
Monday, December 21, 2009
Day 135 - The Sunny Side of Koons & Darko
December 21st, 2009
Happy Winter Solstice Y’all! I just wanted to give you a heads up in case it slipped your mind that the 21st of December is when the earth's axial tilt is farthest away from the sun at its maximum of 23° 26'. My suggestion readers: Really OWN your seasonal depression today because your excuse for your shit mood will lose validity as the sun makes its welcomed lengthier visits for the next six months. If you want to be a victim. Today is your day. The rest of the year…not that sexy.
I want to take the 180 degree approach and argue that there is a richness to the malaise of darkness that serves as a springboard back to brightness. Breakdowns are breakthroughs. Someone playing a Tibetan bowl and smelling of the pleasant union of patchouli and body odor told me that once. I’m a big fan of all things analogues to make sense of cosmic angst. I feel dark cult films act as a lovely metaphor for exemplifying lightness in the darkest and most troublesome of scenarios. Let’s look at a few quotes from classic cult classic films that are so wrong. Yet, so right.
PULP FICTION - Captain Koons: “The way your dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any slopes gonna put their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright, so he hid it, in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.”
MOMMIE DEAREST: Joan Crawford: “SCRUB, Christina. SCRUB.” Why didn’t I write the wire hanger quote? Too obvious. Hardcore cult classic types would shun me.
DONNIE DARKO - Donnie: [shouts] “First of all, Papa Smurf didn't create Smurfette. Gargamel did. She was sent in as Gargamel's evil spy with the intention of destroying the Smurf village. But the overwhelming goodness of the Smurf way of life transformed her. And as for the whole gang-bang scenario, it just couldn't happen. Smurfs are asexual. They don't even have... reproductive organs under those little, white pants. It's just so illogical, you know, about being a Smurf. You know, what's the point of living... if you don't have a dick?”
HEATHERS – Kurt's Dad: "My son's a homosexual, and I love him. I love my dead gay son.”
I’m thinking of writing a screenplay that I hope would ultimately be inducted into the exclusive cult classic club. I've not yet conceptualized the direction that I’d like to go with this creative endeavor, but I think I’m on the right track since I’m interested in starting an actual cult. It shall be super cool. And exclusive. If you’re interested in joining my exclusive social club of lost souls, please contact my assistant Voldar at Voldar@Jax’supercoolexclusivecult.com.
For more info on Jax’s Super Cool Exclusive Cult, please visit: http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-15-jaxs-cult.html
Happy Winter Solstice Y’all! I just wanted to give you a heads up in case it slipped your mind that the 21st of December is when the earth's axial tilt is farthest away from the sun at its maximum of 23° 26'. My suggestion readers: Really OWN your seasonal depression today because your excuse for your shit mood will lose validity as the sun makes its welcomed lengthier visits for the next six months. If you want to be a victim. Today is your day. The rest of the year…not that sexy.
I want to take the 180 degree approach and argue that there is a richness to the malaise of darkness that serves as a springboard back to brightness. Breakdowns are breakthroughs. Someone playing a Tibetan bowl and smelling of the pleasant union of patchouli and body odor told me that once. I’m a big fan of all things analogues to make sense of cosmic angst. I feel dark cult films act as a lovely metaphor for exemplifying lightness in the darkest and most troublesome of scenarios. Let’s look at a few quotes from classic cult classic films that are so wrong. Yet, so right.
PULP FICTION - Captain Koons: “The way your dad looked at it, this watch was your birthright. He'd be damned if any slopes gonna put their greasy yellow hands on his boy's birthright, so he hid it, in the one place he knew he could hide something: his ass. Five long years, he wore this watch up his ass. Then when he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch. I hid this uncomfortable piece of metal up my ass for two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.”
MOMMIE DEAREST: Joan Crawford: “SCRUB, Christina. SCRUB.” Why didn’t I write the wire hanger quote? Too obvious. Hardcore cult classic types would shun me.
DONNIE DARKO - Donnie: [shouts] “First of all, Papa Smurf didn't create Smurfette. Gargamel did. She was sent in as Gargamel's evil spy with the intention of destroying the Smurf village. But the overwhelming goodness of the Smurf way of life transformed her. And as for the whole gang-bang scenario, it just couldn't happen. Smurfs are asexual. They don't even have... reproductive organs under those little, white pants. It's just so illogical, you know, about being a Smurf. You know, what's the point of living... if you don't have a dick?”
HEATHERS – Kurt's Dad: "My son's a homosexual, and I love him. I love my dead gay son.”
I’m thinking of writing a screenplay that I hope would ultimately be inducted into the exclusive cult classic club. I've not yet conceptualized the direction that I’d like to go with this creative endeavor, but I think I’m on the right track since I’m interested in starting an actual cult. It shall be super cool. And exclusive. If you’re interested in joining my exclusive social club of lost souls, please contact my assistant Voldar at Voldar@Jax’supercoolexclusivecult.com.
For more info on Jax’s Super Cool Exclusive Cult, please visit: http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-15-jaxs-cult.html
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Day 134 - Hold Me Jeeves
December 20th, 2009
I went to my local laundromat the other day to drop my things off for someone else to deal with the chore. Although I question if they use soap, I’m a big fan of their magnificent folding capabilities. On a shelf by the industrial dryers, randomly sat the M and N volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica. This was a shame because I was really in the mood for “L”. You know when you just have that restless desire to know masses of information on Latvia, the Baltic region in Northern Europe with a parliamentary republic?
Growing up, my brother and I had access to some sacred Encyclopedias that stood stoically by the Beta max in our basement. My father was a contestant on the original “Jeopardy” game show in the late 60’s that was hosted by Art Fleming. He came in second. Consolation prize: A volume of Encyclopedias. It seems so primitive now that we can just go to Wikipedia for all our needs. Clearly there can be nothing more accurate than a free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit.
The truth is..I miss Jeeves of Ask Jeeves fame. There was something about submitting any type of inquiry to this Mr. Belvedere-esque high caliber Brit that just..I don’t know..made me feel safe. I just craved for the opportunity to nuzzle in his animated rotund male cleavage.
I think it would be beneficial for me to always have a Jeeves within 10 feet of me so I can have my questions answered at any time. On the spot. It almost has a sitcom ring to it. It shall be called “Jax and Jeeves”…no network will pick it up because test audiences didn’t gravitate towards a human blond frolicking around town with a portly animated Englishman in a tuxedo. Either way, I will share with you some of the footage that you’ll never see on Hulu.
CLIPS FROM “JAX and JEEVES”
Jax - Have you ever seen a ferret with lip liner?
Jeeves – Just once. I was working for Margaret Thatcher in the early 80’s and Ronald Reagan UPS’d her a lip lined ferret as a thank you for assisting with ending the Cold War. Rugby?
Jax - Why does every corporate office only have the one notch below mediocre Green Mountain Coffee?
Jeeves –They’re just saving money for high level executives’ exorbitant bonuses. Powdered Wig?
Jax - What do you think about me creating a line of baby doo rags?
Jeeves – I think that would be quite profitable as we’re starting to see more baby gangs. Monty Python?
Jax – Am I Brazilian?
Jeeves: Half. Only from the waste down. Scone?
I went to my local laundromat the other day to drop my things off for someone else to deal with the chore. Although I question if they use soap, I’m a big fan of their magnificent folding capabilities. On a shelf by the industrial dryers, randomly sat the M and N volumes of the Encyclopedia Britannica. This was a shame because I was really in the mood for “L”. You know when you just have that restless desire to know masses of information on Latvia, the Baltic region in Northern Europe with a parliamentary republic?
Growing up, my brother and I had access to some sacred Encyclopedias that stood stoically by the Beta max in our basement. My father was a contestant on the original “Jeopardy” game show in the late 60’s that was hosted by Art Fleming. He came in second. Consolation prize: A volume of Encyclopedias. It seems so primitive now that we can just go to Wikipedia for all our needs. Clearly there can be nothing more accurate than a free online encyclopedia that anyone can edit.
The truth is..I miss Jeeves of Ask Jeeves fame. There was something about submitting any type of inquiry to this Mr. Belvedere-esque high caliber Brit that just..I don’t know..made me feel safe. I just craved for the opportunity to nuzzle in his animated rotund male cleavage.
I think it would be beneficial for me to always have a Jeeves within 10 feet of me so I can have my questions answered at any time. On the spot. It almost has a sitcom ring to it. It shall be called “Jax and Jeeves”…no network will pick it up because test audiences didn’t gravitate towards a human blond frolicking around town with a portly animated Englishman in a tuxedo. Either way, I will share with you some of the footage that you’ll never see on Hulu.
CLIPS FROM “JAX and JEEVES”
Jax - Have you ever seen a ferret with lip liner?
Jeeves – Just once. I was working for Margaret Thatcher in the early 80’s and Ronald Reagan UPS’d her a lip lined ferret as a thank you for assisting with ending the Cold War. Rugby?
Jax - Why does every corporate office only have the one notch below mediocre Green Mountain Coffee?
Jeeves –They’re just saving money for high level executives’ exorbitant bonuses. Powdered Wig?
Jax - What do you think about me creating a line of baby doo rags?
Jeeves – I think that would be quite profitable as we’re starting to see more baby gangs. Monty Python?
Jax – Am I Brazilian?
Jeeves: Half. Only from the waste down. Scone?
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Day 133 - Mission Impossible. You’ve Got My Back
Dec 19th, 2009
Please don’t ask me which Jonas Brother is my favorite. They are all so dreamy, special and Christian in their own way. Sometimes I just get consumed with their combination of Christian purity and mediocre talent.
I can’t pick my favorite. It’s impossible. Living in a world where Public Service Announcements use graphics of rainbows and shooting stars that whimsically attempt to convince us that, “If you dream it you can do it,” the word impossible seems to imply a negative connotation. I choose to explore the opposite. Sometimes impossibility presents itself to make room for what is possible.
Even if we exert our best efforts, it can be impossible for some jobs, relationships and jeans to be the right fit. I am an optimist by nature and choose to see that the hopelessly unsuitable, difficult and objectionable attributes of impossibility actually serve as a protective mechanism in the long run. Accepting that which is impossible allows us to embrace the often tough reality of being in the wrong career. The wrong romance. The wrong denim. I’m not saying don’t take chances, but to move forward in life we have to be honest with ourselves and admit, “I don’t feel so good in my faded dark flared leg jeans. In my gut, I know an authentic low rise boot fit are for me. Plus they make my ass look great.”
Below is a list of impossibilities that I am at peace with. Admitting just opens up my vessel to let the right opportunities in. Or some new age bullshit like that:
It is impossible….
-not to admit that that beef jerky is just a dog treat for humans.
-for me to be friends with people who send texts with excessive use of emoticons.
-that at some point in my life that I won’t drop my Blackberry in the toilet.
- not to accept that the Pope and Klan members are essentially wearing the same thing.
-that I would ever go to an audition in the Maple Room at the Newark Airport Howard Johnson. Again.
-that I will overdose on yogurt that keeps middle age women’s digestive tracks in order.
-that when Uncle Gino comes to visit from the Old Country… that he’s happy about being taken to the Olive Garden at a strip mall in Duluth.
-that I will ever go out with that geometry teacher again. He used parallelogram metaphors to describe his mood. “I have to say, that I generally feel like a convex quadrilaterals. But being around you Jacqueline really brings out my isosceles trapezoid.”
-for me to convince myself that muffins are healthy. Muffins are the Gary Busey to the Nick Nolte of cake.
Please don’t ask me which Jonas Brother is my favorite. They are all so dreamy, special and Christian in their own way. Sometimes I just get consumed with their combination of Christian purity and mediocre talent.
I can’t pick my favorite. It’s impossible. Living in a world where Public Service Announcements use graphics of rainbows and shooting stars that whimsically attempt to convince us that, “If you dream it you can do it,” the word impossible seems to imply a negative connotation. I choose to explore the opposite. Sometimes impossibility presents itself to make room for what is possible.
Even if we exert our best efforts, it can be impossible for some jobs, relationships and jeans to be the right fit. I am an optimist by nature and choose to see that the hopelessly unsuitable, difficult and objectionable attributes of impossibility actually serve as a protective mechanism in the long run. Accepting that which is impossible allows us to embrace the often tough reality of being in the wrong career. The wrong romance. The wrong denim. I’m not saying don’t take chances, but to move forward in life we have to be honest with ourselves and admit, “I don’t feel so good in my faded dark flared leg jeans. In my gut, I know an authentic low rise boot fit are for me. Plus they make my ass look great.”
Below is a list of impossibilities that I am at peace with. Admitting just opens up my vessel to let the right opportunities in. Or some new age bullshit like that:
It is impossible….
-not to admit that that beef jerky is just a dog treat for humans.
-for me to be friends with people who send texts with excessive use of emoticons.
-that at some point in my life that I won’t drop my Blackberry in the toilet.
- not to accept that the Pope and Klan members are essentially wearing the same thing.
-that I would ever go to an audition in the Maple Room at the Newark Airport Howard Johnson. Again.
-that I will overdose on yogurt that keeps middle age women’s digestive tracks in order.
-that when Uncle Gino comes to visit from the Old Country… that he’s happy about being taken to the Olive Garden at a strip mall in Duluth.
-that I will ever go out with that geometry teacher again. He used parallelogram metaphors to describe his mood. “I have to say, that I generally feel like a convex quadrilaterals. But being around you Jacqueline really brings out my isosceles trapezoid.”
-for me to convince myself that muffins are healthy. Muffins are the Gary Busey to the Nick Nolte of cake.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Day 132 - Sorry to be Stern Winter. Tough Love
December 18th, 2009
Dear Winter,
I know that you don’t officially arrive for three days. It certainly is a bold choice on your part to start moving your things into my place a few days early. What was last night about? Brutally freezing and windy? Totally uncool. My hands are still defrosting. Once I regain sensation in my middle finger, I think it’s safe for you to assume what I'll do with it. You can be such a dick.
Every year we reside together as roommates for three months. This year I want to go ahead and establish some ground rules:
1) If you want to have your friends over, I just ask that they have respect for me and our shared living space. Things got out of hand last January at your Martin Luther the King Jr. party. Blizzard demolished the apartment and my season 4 “Six Feet Under” box set after too many hot totties, I got some unfamiliar(yet admittedly enjoyable) buzz from hanging out with the Ice Crystal brothers and the next morning an Eskimo was sleeping naked on the kitchen table cuddling with the George Foreman Grill.
2) I might ask you, “Do these jeans make my butt look big?” You should always answer, “No. No they do not.” Then we can high five.
3) My birthday is on February 21st. The best gift that you can give me is summer for a day wrapped in a big red bow…then you can disappear for 24 hours. Perhaps just go and calm Al Gore down. It’s my special day and will deserve some extra vitamin D, blond highlights and a chance to wear a tank top so I can get more things for free. ( For clarification, read Day 5 – Unintentional Cleavage - http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-5-unintentional-cleavage.html
4) When spring shows up at our door in March, don’t hit on her again. Seriously. Don’t waste your time. She’s not your type. Last year you said, “The word of the day is spread..so spread the word.” Please, that was just embarrassing. Just grab your bags and go down to Australia.
5) If my door is closed with a “Do Not Disturb Sign”…I assume you’ll break the code. If you need me to be more specific, I also have a sign that reads, “Winter, You Are Not Welcome to Come in Because it is Quite Possible that I Have a Gentleman Suitor in Here. Is He the One? Too Soon to Tell. He Has Quite a Bit Going For Him ...Creative, Successful, Tall, Witty, Great Eyes… But He Has A Weird Relationship With His Mother and Tends to Cry A Lot After Sex. Please Leave a Check for The Cable on the Coffee Table and Don’t Drink my Soy Milk.”
XOXO
Jax
Dear Winter,
I know that you don’t officially arrive for three days. It certainly is a bold choice on your part to start moving your things into my place a few days early. What was last night about? Brutally freezing and windy? Totally uncool. My hands are still defrosting. Once I regain sensation in my middle finger, I think it’s safe for you to assume what I'll do with it. You can be such a dick.
Every year we reside together as roommates for three months. This year I want to go ahead and establish some ground rules:
1) If you want to have your friends over, I just ask that they have respect for me and our shared living space. Things got out of hand last January at your Martin Luther the King Jr. party. Blizzard demolished the apartment and my season 4 “Six Feet Under” box set after too many hot totties, I got some unfamiliar(yet admittedly enjoyable) buzz from hanging out with the Ice Crystal brothers and the next morning an Eskimo was sleeping naked on the kitchen table cuddling with the George Foreman Grill.
2) I might ask you, “Do these jeans make my butt look big?” You should always answer, “No. No they do not.” Then we can high five.
3) My birthday is on February 21st. The best gift that you can give me is summer for a day wrapped in a big red bow…then you can disappear for 24 hours. Perhaps just go and calm Al Gore down. It’s my special day and will deserve some extra vitamin D, blond highlights and a chance to wear a tank top so I can get more things for free. ( For clarification, read Day 5 – Unintentional Cleavage - http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-5-unintentional-cleavage.html
4) When spring shows up at our door in March, don’t hit on her again. Seriously. Don’t waste your time. She’s not your type. Last year you said, “The word of the day is spread..so spread the word.” Please, that was just embarrassing. Just grab your bags and go down to Australia.
5) If my door is closed with a “Do Not Disturb Sign”…I assume you’ll break the code. If you need me to be more specific, I also have a sign that reads, “Winter, You Are Not Welcome to Come in Because it is Quite Possible that I Have a Gentleman Suitor in Here. Is He the One? Too Soon to Tell. He Has Quite a Bit Going For Him ...Creative, Successful, Tall, Witty, Great Eyes… But He Has A Weird Relationship With His Mother and Tends to Cry A Lot After Sex. Please Leave a Check for The Cable on the Coffee Table and Don’t Drink my Soy Milk.”
XOXO
Jax
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Day 131 - Mud Wrestling Anxiety
December 17th, 2009
Monday morning at approximately 11:34am I made a commitment. A commitment to feel good. Really good. I’m a positive person by nature but I’ve noticed that I’ve been illuminating like a 75 watt light bulb and I want to be illuminating brighter. I’ve been shinier before and life really started working for me rather than against me. I don’t desire to be the brightness level of a halogen lamp. That seems manic. I’d settle for a good steady get the job done 125 watt light bulb. I was so adamant about getting back to “in the flow awesome Jax” that I immediately made an acupuncture appointment partially because I’ve always resonated with this needlework. A very spiritual friend told me that I am extremely “energy sensitive." She also told me that I was a successful Spanish dancer in a past life. Interpret as you wish. There is something to be said about this ancient Chinese healing method of inserting and manipulating needles into various points in my body that does seem to accomplish keeping my chi in flow. I’ve drooled before. I also figured that if I was putting $80 on my credit card that I meant business as the only attention that I’ve put on my Visa in the past two years has pertained to deduction. Not addition. Here’s the thing readers, I’ve been feeling a bit stuck and I need to return to my fluidity. Yay me.
What actions do I need to take to return to bright Jax? Sure, I’d love to save the world but I think smaller steps are more practical in order to maintain this goal. I think it comes down to doing small things for myself. Ourselves. Like acupuncture. My next act of self love was putting two down comforters on my bed. Do you know what it’s like to sleep in a magically cozy fluffy cloud? I do.
I asked you all the following: When blue, what is one small thing that you do for yourself to shift your mood. Can be silly. Can be serious. No wrong answers. Just wrong people who give answers. Or something like that.
Walk briskly up and down the hall.
-Neil Hyman
Play dance music really, really loud.
-Jane Gay
I have a deep spiritual conversation......with the dog.
-Adam Holtz
When I’m stressed or depressed i like to take off on my motorcycle. I’ll go for a short ride or just head down a road to a place I’ve never been. Usually with camera and no expectations. doing 100+ miles an hour always puts a big shit eating grin on my face.
-Zachary B Atkinson
When I'm feeling stressed, I like to go down to the shelter and juggle kittens....I find that this really helps me to put things in perspective
-Gabe Fonorow
I think a little anxiety is a natural and positive force to feel. It reminds us we’re alive. What I am super conscious of since 11:34am on Monday is to be in control of anxiety…not have it control me. Anxiety and I are like two women mud wrestling in a pit in bikinis in front of truckers. Of course, I win and go to state.
Monday morning at approximately 11:34am I made a commitment. A commitment to feel good. Really good. I’m a positive person by nature but I’ve noticed that I’ve been illuminating like a 75 watt light bulb and I want to be illuminating brighter. I’ve been shinier before and life really started working for me rather than against me. I don’t desire to be the brightness level of a halogen lamp. That seems manic. I’d settle for a good steady get the job done 125 watt light bulb. I was so adamant about getting back to “in the flow awesome Jax” that I immediately made an acupuncture appointment partially because I’ve always resonated with this needlework. A very spiritual friend told me that I am extremely “energy sensitive." She also told me that I was a successful Spanish dancer in a past life. Interpret as you wish. There is something to be said about this ancient Chinese healing method of inserting and manipulating needles into various points in my body that does seem to accomplish keeping my chi in flow. I’ve drooled before. I also figured that if I was putting $80 on my credit card that I meant business as the only attention that I’ve put on my Visa in the past two years has pertained to deduction. Not addition. Here’s the thing readers, I’ve been feeling a bit stuck and I need to return to my fluidity. Yay me.
What actions do I need to take to return to bright Jax? Sure, I’d love to save the world but I think smaller steps are more practical in order to maintain this goal. I think it comes down to doing small things for myself. Ourselves. Like acupuncture. My next act of self love was putting two down comforters on my bed. Do you know what it’s like to sleep in a magically cozy fluffy cloud? I do.
I asked you all the following: When blue, what is one small thing that you do for yourself to shift your mood. Can be silly. Can be serious. No wrong answers. Just wrong people who give answers. Or something like that.
Walk briskly up and down the hall.
-Neil Hyman
Play dance music really, really loud.
-Jane Gay
I have a deep spiritual conversation......with the dog.
-Adam Holtz
When I’m stressed or depressed i like to take off on my motorcycle. I’ll go for a short ride or just head down a road to a place I’ve never been. Usually with camera and no expectations. doing 100+ miles an hour always puts a big shit eating grin on my face.
-Zachary B Atkinson
When I'm feeling stressed, I like to go down to the shelter and juggle kittens....I find that this really helps me to put things in perspective
-Gabe Fonorow
I think a little anxiety is a natural and positive force to feel. It reminds us we’re alive. What I am super conscious of since 11:34am on Monday is to be in control of anxiety…not have it control me. Anxiety and I are like two women mud wrestling in a pit in bikinis in front of truckers. Of course, I win and go to state.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Day 130 - Douches Are Forever
December 16th, 2009
Last night I was sitting at a bar alone waiting for my friend at La Fonda Sol, a modernly expansive, expensive and upscale tapas restaurant next door to Grand Central Station. Amongst a swarm of men in suits, I sat there with my house red, bed head and fun suede boots. Who were these guys? Were they investment bankers? Were they douches? Are those words interchangeable? I didn't know this world still existed. It felt so…I don’t know...1999. Just a decade ago, the “Blair Witch Project” actually scared people, giant cell phones had antennas that looked like PowerPoint Presentation pointers and young men making too much money were running rampant in Manhattan before they pillaged the Hamptons. Yet, there I was in 2009 sitting at a bar in an Americanized version of a Spanish restaurant surrounded by people flaunting their apparent status when their status is that of bullshit.
I did get approached by one of these guys and very kindly faked receiving an incoming call that was of the utmost importance. I felt a little guilty and would have engaged in this conversation if we could pretend it was 1999.If that scene could magically happen, I imagine it would go like this:( Let’s refer to the guy as IBD – Investment Banker Douche. )
“Jax’s Encounter With an Investment Banker Douche in 1999”
IBD – Hi there Blondie. I’m Investment Banker Douche and I saw you sitting alone and felt like I needed to buy you a cosmopolitan. That’s what you drink.. right? Are you more of a Carrie or a Samantha?
Jax - I’m a Jacqueline. (I only engage him because my friend is late and I’ll need material to write about 10 years later.) You can buy me a scotch.
IBD – I like a girl who can drink the hard stuff. Speaking of hard stuff…
Jax – Stop. Seriously…stop.
IBD – I meant my wallet sweetheart. It’s packed with $100’s for this weekend in the Hamptons. Spending cash. You should head out east with us. My buddies and I have a House in Sag Harbor. John F. Kennedy Jr. generally hangs with us but he’s flying out to Martha’s Vineyard with his hot wife. You can stay with me in my room with four other guys who will be making out with women with low self-esteem in twin beds.
Jax – I appreciate the offer but I’m going to take it easy this weekend.
IBD – That’s cool. That’s cool. Maybe go to a movie…my boys and I just saw “The Sixth Sense”. Have you seen it?
Jax – I have not.
IBD – Bruce Willis. Dead the whole time.
Jax – Wow. You really are a douche.
IBD – Excuse me? I couldn’t hear you over “Hit me Baby One More Time”.
Jax – I said it was great that Lance Armstrong won his first Tour de France.
IBD – Huh. Like he’ll be able to do that again. I have to say that you do look familiar.
Jax – You probably recognize me from two television roles that I turned down…topless blond in "Oz" and the mother in a Hebrew National Hot Dog commercial. (jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-26-topless-hot-dog.html)
IBD – I thought maybe you were the blond that I was making out with at the Limp Bizkit concert.. I was wasted and can’t remember the face..but everything from the neck down seems similar.
Jax – Nope. That wasn’t me. Oh. I see my friend just walked in. It’s been so delightful chatting with you Investment Banker Douche.
IBD – Jackie, the pleasure has been mine. I see you and me having a drink at Windows on the World…
Jax – Truth be told IBD, I’m not dating these days because I’m consumed with this Y2K problem that could change life as we know it once the millennium arrives. It might sound cryptic, but I’m just reflecting a lot lately and I just feel silly having a drink with you on the 106th floor of the World Trade Center where nothing bad ever happens. I just don’t feel right. Perhaps we can find each other on Classmates.com. Have a good night.
Last night I was sitting at a bar alone waiting for my friend at La Fonda Sol, a modernly expansive, expensive and upscale tapas restaurant next door to Grand Central Station. Amongst a swarm of men in suits, I sat there with my house red, bed head and fun suede boots. Who were these guys? Were they investment bankers? Were they douches? Are those words interchangeable? I didn't know this world still existed. It felt so…I don’t know...1999. Just a decade ago, the “Blair Witch Project” actually scared people, giant cell phones had antennas that looked like PowerPoint Presentation pointers and young men making too much money were running rampant in Manhattan before they pillaged the Hamptons. Yet, there I was in 2009 sitting at a bar in an Americanized version of a Spanish restaurant surrounded by people flaunting their apparent status when their status is that of bullshit.
I did get approached by one of these guys and very kindly faked receiving an incoming call that was of the utmost importance. I felt a little guilty and would have engaged in this conversation if we could pretend it was 1999.If that scene could magically happen, I imagine it would go like this:( Let’s refer to the guy as IBD – Investment Banker Douche. )
“Jax’s Encounter With an Investment Banker Douche in 1999”
IBD – Hi there Blondie. I’m Investment Banker Douche and I saw you sitting alone and felt like I needed to buy you a cosmopolitan. That’s what you drink.. right? Are you more of a Carrie or a Samantha?
Jax - I’m a Jacqueline. (I only engage him because my friend is late and I’ll need material to write about 10 years later.) You can buy me a scotch.
IBD – I like a girl who can drink the hard stuff. Speaking of hard stuff…
Jax – Stop. Seriously…stop.
IBD – I meant my wallet sweetheart. It’s packed with $100’s for this weekend in the Hamptons. Spending cash. You should head out east with us. My buddies and I have a House in Sag Harbor. John F. Kennedy Jr. generally hangs with us but he’s flying out to Martha’s Vineyard with his hot wife. You can stay with me in my room with four other guys who will be making out with women with low self-esteem in twin beds.
Jax – I appreciate the offer but I’m going to take it easy this weekend.
IBD – That’s cool. That’s cool. Maybe go to a movie…my boys and I just saw “The Sixth Sense”. Have you seen it?
Jax – I have not.
IBD – Bruce Willis. Dead the whole time.
Jax – Wow. You really are a douche.
IBD – Excuse me? I couldn’t hear you over “Hit me Baby One More Time”.
Jax – I said it was great that Lance Armstrong won his first Tour de France.
IBD – Huh. Like he’ll be able to do that again. I have to say that you do look familiar.
Jax – You probably recognize me from two television roles that I turned down…topless blond in "Oz" and the mother in a Hebrew National Hot Dog commercial. (jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-26-topless-hot-dog.html)
IBD – I thought maybe you were the blond that I was making out with at the Limp Bizkit concert.. I was wasted and can’t remember the face..but everything from the neck down seems similar.
Jax – Nope. That wasn’t me. Oh. I see my friend just walked in. It’s been so delightful chatting with you Investment Banker Douche.
IBD – Jackie, the pleasure has been mine. I see you and me having a drink at Windows on the World…
Jax – Truth be told IBD, I’m not dating these days because I’m consumed with this Y2K problem that could change life as we know it once the millennium arrives. It might sound cryptic, but I’m just reflecting a lot lately and I just feel silly having a drink with you on the 106th floor of the World Trade Center where nothing bad ever happens. I just don’t feel right. Perhaps we can find each other on Classmates.com. Have a good night.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Day 129 – Nothing Says ‘I Love You’ Like a Mix Tape
December 15th, 2009
I asked you all the following: If the story of your life were set to music...what would be the song? I received so many responses that I was inspired to revisit my feeling around music’s powerful and compelling effect that reaches the widest scope of listeners.
Personally, I have the utmost respect for people with musical talent. Although I possess my own creative gifts, being musically inclined is not one of them. I’ve never quite bonded with instruments. I’ve tried. At four, I took violin lessons, at nine I dabbled with the piano and at twenty, I felt that my superb singer songwriter hair would lend itself well to the guitar. It did not. I can carry a tune well enough if need be. I took voice lessons for a year with an old Greek woman in an East Village basement. I left that experience with a tinge of singing ability, a clear reminder to breathe and a lot of information on what it was like when her husband left her for her best friend.
On Day 4, I wrote about my friend Marigrace Dineen. http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-4-marigrace.html. She is a kindred spirit friend who might be one of the most musically gifted people that I have ever met. I know a lot of people. Watching her with her crazy flaming red hair belt out guttural music is awe inspiring. Transcending almost. Her feeling is that she’s a vessel for something much bigger that is projecting through her. Either way, experiencing Marigrace and her talent makes me feel something. Music is a catalyst with the very real potential to even melt the hearts of those who appear cynical, simple or even evil.
Below, I have a list of tunes for few notable figures. Perhaps the following songs inspired, might inspire or should have inspired something within their souls that could alter or have altered a chain of events. Either way, I’m making mix tapes for these people. It’s a lost sentiment because nothing says, “Hey, I’m thinkin' of you. Here’s a mix tape.”
Matthew McConaughey - “We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off”, Jermaine Stewart
George W. Bush - "I'm Just a Bill”, Schoolhouse Rock
Ben Stein - “Magnum P.I. Theme Song”
Oprah - “Everybody Wants to Rule the World”, Tears for Fears
Tiger Woods - “It Won't Mean a Thing in a Hundred Years”, Blues Traveler
Someone’s Dad - “I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”
Hitler - “Bad”, Michael Jackson
Ass men – “Legs”, ZZ Top
All the celebrities that died in the summer of 2009 - “Another One Bites the Dust”, Queen
Mrs. Roboto - “Mr. Roboto”, Styx
I asked you all the following: If the story of your life were set to music...what would be the song? I received so many responses that I was inspired to revisit my feeling around music’s powerful and compelling effect that reaches the widest scope of listeners.
Personally, I have the utmost respect for people with musical talent. Although I possess my own creative gifts, being musically inclined is not one of them. I’ve never quite bonded with instruments. I’ve tried. At four, I took violin lessons, at nine I dabbled with the piano and at twenty, I felt that my superb singer songwriter hair would lend itself well to the guitar. It did not. I can carry a tune well enough if need be. I took voice lessons for a year with an old Greek woman in an East Village basement. I left that experience with a tinge of singing ability, a clear reminder to breathe and a lot of information on what it was like when her husband left her for her best friend.
On Day 4, I wrote about my friend Marigrace Dineen. http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/08/day-4-marigrace.html. She is a kindred spirit friend who might be one of the most musically gifted people that I have ever met. I know a lot of people. Watching her with her crazy flaming red hair belt out guttural music is awe inspiring. Transcending almost. Her feeling is that she’s a vessel for something much bigger that is projecting through her. Either way, experiencing Marigrace and her talent makes me feel something. Music is a catalyst with the very real potential to even melt the hearts of those who appear cynical, simple or even evil.
Below, I have a list of tunes for few notable figures. Perhaps the following songs inspired, might inspire or should have inspired something within their souls that could alter or have altered a chain of events. Either way, I’m making mix tapes for these people. It’s a lost sentiment because nothing says, “Hey, I’m thinkin' of you. Here’s a mix tape.”
Matthew McConaughey - “We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off”, Jermaine Stewart
George W. Bush - "I'm Just a Bill”, Schoolhouse Rock
Ben Stein - “Magnum P.I. Theme Song”
Oprah - “Everybody Wants to Rule the World”, Tears for Fears
Tiger Woods - “It Won't Mean a Thing in a Hundred Years”, Blues Traveler
Someone’s Dad - “I saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus”
Hitler - “Bad”, Michael Jackson
Ass men – “Legs”, ZZ Top
All the celebrities that died in the summer of 2009 - “Another One Bites the Dust”, Queen
Mrs. Roboto - “Mr. Roboto”, Styx
Monday, December 14, 2009
Day 128 - Tiger, Pick Me! Pick Me!
December 14th, 2009
If I teased my hair, went heavy on the makeup, dressed more whore-esque and had lower self esteem... I'd look like the type of girl Tiger Woods would sleep with. Fingers crossed.
If I were that girl I would refer to myself as Alternative Universe Jax. Or Amber, Katrina or some other stripper or hurricane name. I am not a powerful man so I won’t dissect the psyche of the guy who would be unfaithful to his wife. However, I do feel many of them truly do love their wives. They just hate themselves.
It’s these “other women” I want to comprehend. Girls, I don’t know what has happened to you during your life experience that has put you in the position to be delusional and vulnerable with men who will never love you. There are very few people who take your side once these affairs have been made public knowledge. I consider myself a giver and want to look at a few notable affairs committed by powerful men. I want to wrap my brain around the mindset of a woman who chooses to participate in an act involving poor moral judgment, self destructive behavior and a topic for today’s blog. Ladies, you are simultaneously very complicated and simple to me.
Let’s look at 3 cheaters and what women could possibly gain from offering up their body, soul and reputation:
Thomas Jefferson
Yes, the third president was an adulterer with slaves and I would imagine these women had no choice in the matter. However, I’m sure that his status also lured in other women who didn’t need to put out for this influential Founding Father. In your defense ladies, it would have been cool to use the feathered pen that he used to sign the Declaration of Independence, try on some powdered wigs and probably get free admission for the Monticello tours.
John Edwards
With his striking good looks, soothing southern accent and well coiffed hair, I can see the sex appeal of this North Carolina Senator and Vice Presidential nominee. Yet, I did feel sucker punched because I have great respect for his wife Elizabeth. I assume the benefits to being the other woman could include sharing hair products, trying on the bootstraps that he pulled himself up by and being able to connect with relatives who have crossed over. Oh? That’s just if you had relations with psychic John Edward. My bad.
Jude Law
Um, yeah. I kind of get this one. Good for you ladies!
Here is a word of advice for women still contemplating having their way with Bill Clinton. He was probably only your type when he was in office. Now it would seem like..I don't know…you’re not aiming high enough.
If I teased my hair, went heavy on the makeup, dressed more whore-esque and had lower self esteem... I'd look like the type of girl Tiger Woods would sleep with. Fingers crossed.
If I were that girl I would refer to myself as Alternative Universe Jax. Or Amber, Katrina or some other stripper or hurricane name. I am not a powerful man so I won’t dissect the psyche of the guy who would be unfaithful to his wife. However, I do feel many of them truly do love their wives. They just hate themselves.
It’s these “other women” I want to comprehend. Girls, I don’t know what has happened to you during your life experience that has put you in the position to be delusional and vulnerable with men who will never love you. There are very few people who take your side once these affairs have been made public knowledge. I consider myself a giver and want to look at a few notable affairs committed by powerful men. I want to wrap my brain around the mindset of a woman who chooses to participate in an act involving poor moral judgment, self destructive behavior and a topic for today’s blog. Ladies, you are simultaneously very complicated and simple to me.
Let’s look at 3 cheaters and what women could possibly gain from offering up their body, soul and reputation:
Thomas Jefferson
Yes, the third president was an adulterer with slaves and I would imagine these women had no choice in the matter. However, I’m sure that his status also lured in other women who didn’t need to put out for this influential Founding Father. In your defense ladies, it would have been cool to use the feathered pen that he used to sign the Declaration of Independence, try on some powdered wigs and probably get free admission for the Monticello tours.
John Edwards
With his striking good looks, soothing southern accent and well coiffed hair, I can see the sex appeal of this North Carolina Senator and Vice Presidential nominee. Yet, I did feel sucker punched because I have great respect for his wife Elizabeth. I assume the benefits to being the other woman could include sharing hair products, trying on the bootstraps that he pulled himself up by and being able to connect with relatives who have crossed over. Oh? That’s just if you had relations with psychic John Edward. My bad.
Jude Law
Um, yeah. I kind of get this one. Good for you ladies!
Here is a word of advice for women still contemplating having their way with Bill Clinton. He was probably only your type when he was in office. Now it would seem like..I don't know…you’re not aiming high enough.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Day 127 - Emotional Party
December 13th, 2009
(The scene takes place in Happiness’s apartment.She is throwing a
party and the guests are a variety of emotions mingling.)
EXCITEMENT – Envy, you must try this spinach artichoke dip! It’s divine!
ENVY – I’ll just do that Excitement. I just love your shirt. It’s very figure flattering. Good for a day at the beach…
EXCITEMENT - …or a night on the town! I know!
ENVY – Oh No. Here comes Shame. I’m worried about her spending so much time at the Catholic Church.
(Shame joins Envy and Excitement)
ENVY AND EXCITEMENT – Hi Shame…
ENVY – Loving your rosary beads.
EXCITEMENT (Hands Shame an appetizer) – Pig in the blanket?!
SHAME – No thanks. I’m disgusted with myself for putting on so much weight.
EXCITEMENT – Stop that! Right now! You look great!
ENVY - You really do. Delight has been eyeing you all night. I’m so jealous.
EXCITEMENT – Shhh..! Happiness is going to make a toast!
(Happiness addresses party goers)
HAPPINESS - I’m just thrilled that you all could make it to my annual Emotional Party. I think it’s so crucial that we check in with each other from time to time.
EMPATHY – I totally feel you girl! Cheers…
HAPPINESS – Thank you Empathy. So much has happened since last year! Courage went bungee jumping in New Zealand, Hope moved on and married Love after Guilty cheated on her and Pleasure’s new sex toy store is thriving.
DESIRE – Cheers to that! I basically live at that place!
HAPPINESS – I heard about that Desire. Please everyone..enjoy yourselves. Feel free to dance to my favorite Bobby McFerrin tunes, watch Amusement try out some new comedy bits or join Relaxed on the deck. I hear he has some bitchin’ weed.
(Cut back to Envy, Excitement and Shame)
ENVY - Happiness is a doll. I wish I had her knack for feng shui.
EXCITEMENT – Oh look! Fear just arrived.
SHAME – I’m surprised she made it. She generally doesn’t leave the house.
ENVY – Oh that’s nice to see…Affection is giving her a hug. He's good for her.
EXCITEMENT – I am just so glad that Fear and Anger aren’t hanging out anymore.
ENVY – I know. They really enabled each other. Fear was holding Anger back. And Anger was covering a lot up for Fear.
SHAME – I heard that they’d get wasted at dive bars with Misery. He loves company. Toxic all around. That’s a Shame. I mean.. that’s a me.
EXCITEMENT – Remember last year when Misery and Joy were making out in the corner?! They had one of those magnetic, fast and furious love affairs. She came to her senses and realized that he was self loathing and was just feeding off her energy like a vampire.
ENVY – I agree. And look how great she looks with Competence. He’s so together. So comfortable in his own skin, honest and successful. Plus really sexy. I’m jealous.
(A dramatic scene breaks out where Anger starts yelling at Sadness. Sadness starts to cry and exits to the kitchen. Anger chases her.)
EXCITEMENT – What was that all about?!
(Happiness walks over)
HAPPINESS – It’s complicated because Sadness and Anger are fraternal twins. They don’t look alike..but they come from the same place. Their parents are Depression and Pain. Anger just yells a lot and Sadness breaks into tears. At the core, they’re identical. I’ve invited them to meditate with me..but they’re not ready.
(Happiness saunters off in her flowy clothes ..then there is an extended pause...)
EXCITEMENT – This is getting a little too heavy for me! Come on, let’s go funnel beer with Elation in the garage!
THE END
(The scene takes place in Happiness’s apartment.She is throwing a
party and the guests are a variety of emotions mingling.)
EXCITEMENT – Envy, you must try this spinach artichoke dip! It’s divine!
ENVY – I’ll just do that Excitement. I just love your shirt. It’s very figure flattering. Good for a day at the beach…
EXCITEMENT - …or a night on the town! I know!
ENVY – Oh No. Here comes Shame. I’m worried about her spending so much time at the Catholic Church.
(Shame joins Envy and Excitement)
ENVY AND EXCITEMENT – Hi Shame…
ENVY – Loving your rosary beads.
EXCITEMENT (Hands Shame an appetizer) – Pig in the blanket?!
SHAME – No thanks. I’m disgusted with myself for putting on so much weight.
EXCITEMENT – Stop that! Right now! You look great!
ENVY - You really do. Delight has been eyeing you all night. I’m so jealous.
EXCITEMENT – Shhh..! Happiness is going to make a toast!
(Happiness addresses party goers)
HAPPINESS - I’m just thrilled that you all could make it to my annual Emotional Party. I think it’s so crucial that we check in with each other from time to time.
EMPATHY – I totally feel you girl! Cheers…
HAPPINESS – Thank you Empathy. So much has happened since last year! Courage went bungee jumping in New Zealand, Hope moved on and married Love after Guilty cheated on her and Pleasure’s new sex toy store is thriving.
DESIRE – Cheers to that! I basically live at that place!
HAPPINESS – I heard about that Desire. Please everyone..enjoy yourselves. Feel free to dance to my favorite Bobby McFerrin tunes, watch Amusement try out some new comedy bits or join Relaxed on the deck. I hear he has some bitchin’ weed.
(Cut back to Envy, Excitement and Shame)
ENVY - Happiness is a doll. I wish I had her knack for feng shui.
EXCITEMENT – Oh look! Fear just arrived.
SHAME – I’m surprised she made it. She generally doesn’t leave the house.
ENVY – Oh that’s nice to see…Affection is giving her a hug. He's good for her.
EXCITEMENT – I am just so glad that Fear and Anger aren’t hanging out anymore.
ENVY – I know. They really enabled each other. Fear was holding Anger back. And Anger was covering a lot up for Fear.
SHAME – I heard that they’d get wasted at dive bars with Misery. He loves company. Toxic all around. That’s a Shame. I mean.. that’s a me.
EXCITEMENT – Remember last year when Misery and Joy were making out in the corner?! They had one of those magnetic, fast and furious love affairs. She came to her senses and realized that he was self loathing and was just feeding off her energy like a vampire.
ENVY – I agree. And look how great she looks with Competence. He’s so together. So comfortable in his own skin, honest and successful. Plus really sexy. I’m jealous.
(A dramatic scene breaks out where Anger starts yelling at Sadness. Sadness starts to cry and exits to the kitchen. Anger chases her.)
EXCITEMENT – What was that all about?!
(Happiness walks over)
HAPPINESS – It’s complicated because Sadness and Anger are fraternal twins. They don’t look alike..but they come from the same place. Their parents are Depression and Pain. Anger just yells a lot and Sadness breaks into tears. At the core, they’re identical. I’ve invited them to meditate with me..but they’re not ready.
(Happiness saunters off in her flowy clothes ..then there is an extended pause...)
EXCITEMENT – This is getting a little too heavy for me! Come on, let’s go funnel beer with Elation in the garage!
THE END
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Day 126 - The Cleanse of the Karma
Saturday December 12th, 2009
I’m committing myself to karma cleansing. Those of you following my blog know that I am involved in a bit of a scandal. For details, read yesterday’s blog: http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-125-executive-in-charge-of-myself.html. Although there was no malicious intent on my end regarding this incident, it did provoke me to reflect on scenarios with people and things where I am willing to acknowledge that I was at fault. I want to shake hands with the new year and say, “Hello 2010, I dedicate this year to maintaining a clear conscience, staying true to myself and trying to convince people not to just stand still on moving sidewalks at airports. By the way 2010, you look great. Have you lost weight? I see it in your face.”
Jax’s Karma cleansing list:
In 7th grade, I sprayed cheap drugstore Sun-In in my hair. Result – My mane transformed into an over bronzed (with a hint of green) disaster. It’s very possible that the contents in this spray contained particles from space. I’m sorry hair.
My freshman year in college I made a B on a paper in my English 101 class. I always made A’s on papers. My teacher was an innocent looking graduate student just a few years older than I was. After class, I confronted him about my grade and spoke in a tone that I am ashamed of. He might have cried. Sorry fragile English 101 graduate student teacher.
When I was 6, I dressed our cat in a bonnet, put him in a baby carriage and pushed him down the stairs. Sorry Catty. Also, sorry we named you Catty.
A few months ago, I saw a cop trip over crime scene tape and giggled as I saw him fall most ungracefully to the ground. Sorry cop. It was just so sad and magical at the same time.
During the Gay Pride Parade, I conceptualized the idea of a “Straight Shame March”. Sorry straight people with shame.
When I was 8, I went out to eat with my father and brother and attempted to balance a glass bowl of Jell-O on my head. Cut to chards of glass on an early 80’s carpet that resembled a Cosby sweater. I’m sorry what used to be an intact glass bowl.
I sent a text to my friend last night and ended it with an emoticon. I’m sorry Brian. I’m better
than that. You're better that. We're better than that.
Recently the man next to me on the subway fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. I moved away. Sorry tired man. You were harmless and I know my shoulder is exceptionally comfortable.
My senior year in high school I threw a party and some friends were shot gunning marijuana into the mouth of my yellow lab, Honey. So sorry I wasn’t there to stop your introduction to drug use Honey. I was busy preventing people from making out in my parent’ bed.
I was the only girl in my comedy improv group for years. I would be left alone when the guys would go to the bathroom during rehearsal. I wrote a sketch with my thoughts about what the guys really did in the bathroom. It involved them peeing on each other while chanting “God damn, I love my penis!” Sorry guys. I know you weren’t giving each other golden showers. You were just making out.
http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-35-penis.html
I’m committing myself to karma cleansing. Those of you following my blog know that I am involved in a bit of a scandal. For details, read yesterday’s blog: http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-125-executive-in-charge-of-myself.html. Although there was no malicious intent on my end regarding this incident, it did provoke me to reflect on scenarios with people and things where I am willing to acknowledge that I was at fault. I want to shake hands with the new year and say, “Hello 2010, I dedicate this year to maintaining a clear conscience, staying true to myself and trying to convince people not to just stand still on moving sidewalks at airports. By the way 2010, you look great. Have you lost weight? I see it in your face.”
Jax’s Karma cleansing list:
In 7th grade, I sprayed cheap drugstore Sun-In in my hair. Result – My mane transformed into an over bronzed (with a hint of green) disaster. It’s very possible that the contents in this spray contained particles from space. I’m sorry hair.
My freshman year in college I made a B on a paper in my English 101 class. I always made A’s on papers. My teacher was an innocent looking graduate student just a few years older than I was. After class, I confronted him about my grade and spoke in a tone that I am ashamed of. He might have cried. Sorry fragile English 101 graduate student teacher.
When I was 6, I dressed our cat in a bonnet, put him in a baby carriage and pushed him down the stairs. Sorry Catty. Also, sorry we named you Catty.
A few months ago, I saw a cop trip over crime scene tape and giggled as I saw him fall most ungracefully to the ground. Sorry cop. It was just so sad and magical at the same time.
During the Gay Pride Parade, I conceptualized the idea of a “Straight Shame March”. Sorry straight people with shame.
When I was 8, I went out to eat with my father and brother and attempted to balance a glass bowl of Jell-O on my head. Cut to chards of glass on an early 80’s carpet that resembled a Cosby sweater. I’m sorry what used to be an intact glass bowl.
I sent a text to my friend last night and ended it with an emoticon. I’m sorry Brian. I’m better
than that. You're better that. We're better than that.
Recently the man next to me on the subway fell asleep with his head on my shoulder. I moved away. Sorry tired man. You were harmless and I know my shoulder is exceptionally comfortable.
My senior year in high school I threw a party and some friends were shot gunning marijuana into the mouth of my yellow lab, Honey. So sorry I wasn’t there to stop your introduction to drug use Honey. I was busy preventing people from making out in my parent’ bed.
I was the only girl in my comedy improv group for years. I would be left alone when the guys would go to the bathroom during rehearsal. I wrote a sketch with my thoughts about what the guys really did in the bathroom. It involved them peeing on each other while chanting “God damn, I love my penis!” Sorry guys. I know you weren’t giving each other golden showers. You were just making out.
http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-35-penis.html
Friday, December 11, 2009
Day 125 - Executive in Charge of Myself
December 11th, 2009
A few days ago, I wrote a blog entry entitled “Day 122 - Nice to See You Again, Seinfeld”.
( http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-122-nice-to-see-you-again-seinfeld.html .) I wrote about being in the audience in the “Saturday Night Live” studios to watch a pre-production show for a new NBC program called “The Marriage Ref”. Jerry Seinfeld is the creator and executive producer. It appears that this particular entry got in the hands of people that are having some anxiety around the content.
I received an email last night from a man from the Los Angeles based company producing this show. I want to protect the anonymity of the company and this guy because the tone of the letter was not mean spirited. He very kindly requested that I remove the information that I posted because it could be damaging to the show. In addition, he mentioned that audience members were supposed to sign confidentiality agreements. Yeah, that didn’t happen. This actually did surprise me because I was the warm up comic for an eBay marketing event at ABC studios this past summer. I remember making a mental note of how meticulous the production team was about getting those signed agreements from the studio audience. Side note, here is a short clip of me in action for that event. Mario Cantone was the host and his stylist insisted on doing my hair. I like to watch it every now and then so I can remind myself that it really is to my benefit to put a little more energy into hair maintenance. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyy7sxePQ2E&feature=related
I digressed. Back to the issue at hand. I received this pleasantly executed letter asking me to remove my blog entry. The letter writer’s title was “Executive in Charge”. I’m not exactly clear what that entails but it is now my new favorite title closely followed by Carcass Cleaner and Persian Kitten Wrangler. I haven’t written him back but evidently feel safe exploring my feelings about this matter in the virtual community. What I need Mr. Executive in Charge to know is that I have committed to a 365 day blog entry challenge of cosmic angst through the eyes of comedic insight. The very nature of removing a post negates the honesty, commitment and integrity that I have promised to this year long writing project, to my readers and to myself. I have no interest in changing my blog's theme to “365 day blog entry challenge minus day 122 because I really should have signed a confidentiality agreement that no one gave me.” I generally try to do the right thing and I personally do not think there are damaging revelations in the blog’s content. Just honest observations. I didn’t wake up that morning with this To Do List: Go to Yoga, organize my closet and then maliciously destroy the new reality show created by one of my comedy heroes.
Removing this post is simply not being true to myself. In short, it would be damaging to me. I’m an artist. I’ve finally made peace that I have no other choice other than to stay on this often daunting, complicated and exhilarating creative path. Believe me Executive in Charge, sometimes I think life would be easier if I were wired to be an accountant getting steady paychecks. So this is who I am. Blog 122 is who I am. There is no reason for me to even finish this project if I start deleting posts. I wouldn’t keep the stamina to reach day 365. I ran a marathon in 2005 and I didn't hear runners saying, “Yeah, I ran 26 miles but I had to skip mile17 because I got held up waiting in the porta-potty line.”
A few days ago, I wrote a blog entry entitled “Day 122 - Nice to See You Again, Seinfeld”.
( http://jacquelinekabat.blogspot.com/2009/12/day-122-nice-to-see-you-again-seinfeld.html .) I wrote about being in the audience in the “Saturday Night Live” studios to watch a pre-production show for a new NBC program called “The Marriage Ref”. Jerry Seinfeld is the creator and executive producer. It appears that this particular entry got in the hands of people that are having some anxiety around the content.
I received an email last night from a man from the Los Angeles based company producing this show. I want to protect the anonymity of the company and this guy because the tone of the letter was not mean spirited. He very kindly requested that I remove the information that I posted because it could be damaging to the show. In addition, he mentioned that audience members were supposed to sign confidentiality agreements. Yeah, that didn’t happen. This actually did surprise me because I was the warm up comic for an eBay marketing event at ABC studios this past summer. I remember making a mental note of how meticulous the production team was about getting those signed agreements from the studio audience. Side note, here is a short clip of me in action for that event. Mario Cantone was the host and his stylist insisted on doing my hair. I like to watch it every now and then so I can remind myself that it really is to my benefit to put a little more energy into hair maintenance. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eyy7sxePQ2E&feature=related
I digressed. Back to the issue at hand. I received this pleasantly executed letter asking me to remove my blog entry. The letter writer’s title was “Executive in Charge”. I’m not exactly clear what that entails but it is now my new favorite title closely followed by Carcass Cleaner and Persian Kitten Wrangler. I haven’t written him back but evidently feel safe exploring my feelings about this matter in the virtual community. What I need Mr. Executive in Charge to know is that I have committed to a 365 day blog entry challenge of cosmic angst through the eyes of comedic insight. The very nature of removing a post negates the honesty, commitment and integrity that I have promised to this year long writing project, to my readers and to myself. I have no interest in changing my blog's theme to “365 day blog entry challenge minus day 122 because I really should have signed a confidentiality agreement that no one gave me.” I generally try to do the right thing and I personally do not think there are damaging revelations in the blog’s content. Just honest observations. I didn’t wake up that morning with this To Do List: Go to Yoga, organize my closet and then maliciously destroy the new reality show created by one of my comedy heroes.
Removing this post is simply not being true to myself. In short, it would be damaging to me. I’m an artist. I’ve finally made peace that I have no other choice other than to stay on this often daunting, complicated and exhilarating creative path. Believe me Executive in Charge, sometimes I think life would be easier if I were wired to be an accountant getting steady paychecks. So this is who I am. Blog 122 is who I am. There is no reason for me to even finish this project if I start deleting posts. I wouldn’t keep the stamina to reach day 365. I ran a marathon in 2005 and I didn't hear runners saying, “Yeah, I ran 26 miles but I had to skip mile17 because I got held up waiting in the porta-potty line.”
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Day 124 – Restrooms for Customers Only. Kind of
December 10th, 2009
Last night I met my friend Jay in the East Village for an “experiential” minstrel show about racism where black people were in blackface. I don’t even know where to go with that...so I will just mosey over to the topic of day 124.
On my way to meet my friend at the theater, my bladder told me, “Jax, I need some release. Seriously. No, Seriously.” When bladder talks, I listen. My intention was to resort to my usual mischievous scheme where I saunter into a restaurant, tell the host that I’m “meeting” someone and then go to the bathroom. When I exit, I fake a phone call and leave the restaurant because it’s “rude” to talk on the phone inside. Then I run away. I’m truly that awesome.
I entered a Greek restaurant on 2nd avenue to execute what has always worked in the past. There was a very clear “Restrooms For Customers Only" sign. I gave the host the meet the friend fib and she said it didn’t matter and I had to buy something before I used their toilet. Fine. I bought bottled water and then I was given the green light to go where only customers have gone before. This particular bathroom was located in the deep dark depths of some maximum security maze. I had to be buzzed through two doors and then I walked down a dimly lit hallway like Clarice Sterling on her way to hang out with Hannibal Lecter.
I did my business and ran out of the restaurant like a teenager who was rolling a house at 3:00am and then the houselights come on.
As I walked the remaining blocks to he theater, my mind was consumed by the very nature of these “Restrooms For Customers Only" signs. Whoever makes these gold plated metal signs must be living quite comfortably in any economy. I figured the “plant’ where they’re made is located in some factory in rural Indiana and run like a sweatshop always on the verge of having major issues with Child Labor Laws. Some Führer type boss is constantly surveying the overworked and underpaid staff and shouting orders in a nondescript Eastern European accent.
It’s clear that restaurants with these signs take it quite literally. Yet it does seem ironic that the staff uses these bathrooms when it’s safe to assume that they’re not customers. Plus, the word “customers” leaves a lot of room for interpretation. I’m a customer...just not at your place. I just bought tampons at Duane Read. I consume.
Luckily I met my friend and this futile train of thought came to an end. I decided that at the end of the day I should just respect these signs and earn myself an invitation to the Greek restaurant’s ceremonious hanging of the “Restrooms for Customers Only” sign gala that involves incense, mediocre baklava and doves.
Last night I met my friend Jay in the East Village for an “experiential” minstrel show about racism where black people were in blackface. I don’t even know where to go with that...so I will just mosey over to the topic of day 124.
On my way to meet my friend at the theater, my bladder told me, “Jax, I need some release. Seriously. No, Seriously.” When bladder talks, I listen. My intention was to resort to my usual mischievous scheme where I saunter into a restaurant, tell the host that I’m “meeting” someone and then go to the bathroom. When I exit, I fake a phone call and leave the restaurant because it’s “rude” to talk on the phone inside. Then I run away. I’m truly that awesome.
I entered a Greek restaurant on 2nd avenue to execute what has always worked in the past. There was a very clear “Restrooms For Customers Only" sign. I gave the host the meet the friend fib and she said it didn’t matter and I had to buy something before I used their toilet. Fine. I bought bottled water and then I was given the green light to go where only customers have gone before. This particular bathroom was located in the deep dark depths of some maximum security maze. I had to be buzzed through two doors and then I walked down a dimly lit hallway like Clarice Sterling on her way to hang out with Hannibal Lecter.
I did my business and ran out of the restaurant like a teenager who was rolling a house at 3:00am and then the houselights come on.
As I walked the remaining blocks to he theater, my mind was consumed by the very nature of these “Restrooms For Customers Only" signs. Whoever makes these gold plated metal signs must be living quite comfortably in any economy. I figured the “plant’ where they’re made is located in some factory in rural Indiana and run like a sweatshop always on the verge of having major issues with Child Labor Laws. Some Führer type boss is constantly surveying the overworked and underpaid staff and shouting orders in a nondescript Eastern European accent.
It’s clear that restaurants with these signs take it quite literally. Yet it does seem ironic that the staff uses these bathrooms when it’s safe to assume that they’re not customers. Plus, the word “customers” leaves a lot of room for interpretation. I’m a customer...just not at your place. I just bought tampons at Duane Read. I consume.
Luckily I met my friend and this futile train of thought came to an end. I decided that at the end of the day I should just respect these signs and earn myself an invitation to the Greek restaurant’s ceremonious hanging of the “Restrooms for Customers Only” sign gala that involves incense, mediocre baklava and doves.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Day 123 - Amanda the Warrior Princess
December 9th, 2009
My friend Amanda Lerner is one of those people that just "gets it”. Not only is she always committed to bettering herself, she possesses this magnetic energy and deep compassion that is beautifully contagious. If you look closely,you might just see a divine light around her.
She is a Certified Holistic Health Counselor and graduate of the Institute for Integrative Nutrition. We were introduced in 2006 and her influence was a major springboard for me taking some big risks, trusting my gut and having the courage to carve my own path. Here is a testimonial that I wrote for her website:
“Amanda is a true gift, a kindred spirit with a beautiful and healing energy. I pride myself in seeing the world in an open way but Amanda's soulful and honest perspectives about true well-being reached me in a major way. Since meeting Amanda, my diet, career and outlook on life have changed for the better. I am blessed to have her in my life.”
So yeah, I kind of love this girl. She emailed me the other night and posed this question to me:
What is the purpose of work? My immediate response was: "Live to work. Don’t work to live." Although there is wisdom in this, I was disappointed that I gave such a cliché hasty response that sounded like something Oprah would preach. I’m better than that. Most of the time.
The next day I was inspired to spend a good portion of my day marketing my “Humor for Health and Self Discovery” workshop that I’ve taught at the Omega institute, the Deepak Chopra Center and various other wellness centers over the years. Below is the description of this class.
HUMOR FOR HEALTH AND SELF DISCOVERY
"In this uproariously fun workshop, we soothe our spirit and reenergize ourselves with laughter.
Guided by comedy improv pro Jacqueline Kabat, we learn the basic principles of comedy improvisation to tap into deeper dimensions and learn how to use them to develop our personal potential in everyday life. Working together as a group to eliminate any individual fear, we participate and cheer for each other in a safe environment—and have fun doing it. Comedy improv exercises result in a significant amount of self discovery and insight. Participants end up becoming incredibly empowered because they are given the unique opportunity to feel the positive shifts through nurturing creativity and collaboration. When we’re having fun, we’re relaxed.
When we’re relaxed, we’re listening and communicating, and that’s when we’re able to overcome insecurities and express our full capabilities. By applying the central improv lesson of being completely present and open to whatever happens, we increase our confidence, improve our relationship skills, and learn to creatively deal with ambiguous and constantly changing circumstances.
As we continue to practice the tenets of comedy improv upon our return home, we discover we can tap into the best within ourselves in any given situation with the healing power of laughter."
In the spirit of networking, I spoke to a helpful contact who suggested that I offer my program at “The Wounded Warrior Project”. This is a nonprofit organization whose mission is to "honor and empower wounded warriors" of the United States Armed Forces. According to their website, their purpose is the following:
• To raise awareness and enlist the public’s aid for the needs of severely injured service men and women,
• To help severely injured service members aid and assist each other, and
• To provide unique, direct programs and services to meet the needs of severely injured service members. to provide unique, direct programs and services to meet their needs."
I immediately resonated with the idea of reaching out to this project. If you’ve been following my blog, you probably already know that I have pretty strong feelings that the philosophy of comedy improv can pretty much save the world.
This leads me back to Amanda. She was instrumental in helping me visualize where I wanted to go a few years ago. Then the other night she asked the purpose of work question at a particular moment where I was feeling a little rudderless as to where I wanted to go next with this work. Then the universe, a coincidence or just a very good networking contact made me aware of The Wounded Warrior Project. Why was my interest immediately piqued? Because this type of endeavor taps into what I now can articulate is the purpose of work. So Amanda, I want a second try to answer your question. The 5 words below are the core values of the Wounded Warrior Project. Synonymously, I feel the purpose of work is to be involved in something true to yourself that involves:
• LOYALTY
• INNOVATION
• SERVICE
• FUN
• INTEGRITY
In an ideal world, I would hope my work would encompass all of these. Even if I can just check one off, I’m on the right track. I’ll just think of you telling me that the rest are possible once I believe it. Thank you.
My friend Amanda Lerner is one of those people that just "gets it”. Not only is she always committed to bettering herself, she possesses this magnetic energy and deep compassion that is beautifully contagious. If you look closely,you might just see a divine light around her.
She is a Certified Holistic Health Counselor and graduate of the Institute for Integrative Nutrition. We were introduced in 2006 and her influence was a major springboard for me taking some big risks, trusting my gut and having the courage to carve my own path. Here is a testimonial that I wrote for her website:
“Amanda is a true gift, a kindred spirit with a beautiful and healing energy. I pride myself in seeing the world in an open way but Amanda's soulful and honest perspectives about true well-being reached me in a major way. Since meeting Amanda, my diet, career and outlook on life have changed for the better. I am blessed to have her in my life.”
So yeah, I kind of love this girl. She emailed me the other night and posed this question to me:
What is the purpose of work? My immediate response was: "Live to work. Don’t work to live." Although there is wisdom in this, I was disappointed that I gave such a cliché hasty response that sounded like something Oprah would preach. I’m better than that. Most of the time.
The next day I was inspired to spend a good portion of my day marketing my “Humor for Health and Self Discovery” workshop that I’ve taught at the Omega institute, the Deepak Chopra Center and various other wellness centers over the years. Below is the description of this class.
HUMOR FOR HEALTH AND SELF DISCOVERY
"In this uproariously fun workshop, we soothe our spirit and reenergize ourselves with laughter.
Guided by comedy improv pro Jacqueline Kabat, we learn the basic principles of comedy improvisation to tap into deeper dimensions and learn how to use them to develop our personal potential in everyday life. Working together as a group to eliminate any individual fear, we participate and cheer for each other in a safe environment—and have fun doing it. Comedy improv exercises result in a significant amount of self discovery and insight. Participants end up becoming incredibly empowered because they are given the unique opportunity to feel the positive shifts through nurturing creativity and collaboration. When we’re having fun, we’re relaxed.
When we’re relaxed, we’re listening and communicating, and that’s when we’re able to overcome insecurities and express our full capabilities. By applying the central improv lesson of being completely present and open to whatever happens, we increase our confidence, improve our relationship skills, and learn to creatively deal with ambiguous and constantly changing circumstances.
As we continue to practice the tenets of comedy improv upon our return home, we discover we can tap into the best within ourselves in any given situation with the healing power of laughter."
In the spirit of networking, I spoke to a helpful contact who suggested that I offer my program at “The Wounded Warrior Project”. This is a nonprofit organization whose mission is to "honor and empower wounded warriors" of the United States Armed Forces. According to their website, their purpose is the following:
• To raise awareness and enlist the public’s aid for the needs of severely injured service men and women,
• To help severely injured service members aid and assist each other, and
• To provide unique, direct programs and services to meet the needs of severely injured service members. to provide unique, direct programs and services to meet their needs."
I immediately resonated with the idea of reaching out to this project. If you’ve been following my blog, you probably already know that I have pretty strong feelings that the philosophy of comedy improv can pretty much save the world.
This leads me back to Amanda. She was instrumental in helping me visualize where I wanted to go a few years ago. Then the other night she asked the purpose of work question at a particular moment where I was feeling a little rudderless as to where I wanted to go next with this work. Then the universe, a coincidence or just a very good networking contact made me aware of The Wounded Warrior Project. Why was my interest immediately piqued? Because this type of endeavor taps into what I now can articulate is the purpose of work. So Amanda, I want a second try to answer your question. The 5 words below are the core values of the Wounded Warrior Project. Synonymously, I feel the purpose of work is to be involved in something true to yourself that involves:
• LOYALTY
• INNOVATION
• SERVICE
• FUN
• INTEGRITY
In an ideal world, I would hope my work would encompass all of these. Even if I can just check one off, I’m on the right track. I’ll just think of you telling me that the rest are possible once I believe it. Thank you.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Day 122 - Nice to See You Again, Seinfeld
December 8th, 2009
I saw Jerry Seinfeld this morning in the Saturday Live Studio. I saw him exactly a year ago at Gotham Comedy Club where he showed up to practice a set. He went on stage right after me. Technically, yes, I have opened for Seinfeld. It’s as if we plan to meet this time every year to talk about comedic insight and what it’s like to be a Jew on Christmas. Granted, we’ve never actually spoken but I know people who have talked to him.
I was in the SNL studios with my aunt to watch a pre-production show for a new NBC program called “The Marriage Ref”. Jerry Seinfeld is the creator and executive producer of this show that, according to a press release, “will "feature opinionated celebrities, comedians and sports stars who will candidly comment, judge and offer different strategies for real-life couples in the midst of a classic marital dispute."
Comedian Tom Papa is the impressively capable host and today’s opinionated guests included Greg Giraldo, Jim Breur and some attractive lady from some fashion program that couldn’t match the quick wits of the rest of the panel.
The following were the scenarios where the guests(refs) had to say which domestic partner was right.
Scenario 1
A husband read his wife’s journal that she keeps as a Word Document on their shared computer. The entries evidently had very “juicy” details about her past relationships. He wanted the “journal” out of the house. Yet, he downloaded the document to his PDA. I guess it’s good to have it in a portable device when you’re feeling too good about yourself.
Scenario 2
A wife is annoyed that her husband stands eating at the sink while she and their baby sit at the dinner table. His defense is that its more efficient and clean to be standing. Side note, he was eating a Skippy peanut butter and jelly sandwich. This is also the man who swallows 10 vitamins at once. Ya know, to save time. The wife thinks that will kill him and he says he takes the vitamins to live longer. I wish this couple was in my Speech and Debate class during my sophomore year in high school.
Scenario 3 A husband is disgusted that his wife flosses in bed. I got grossed out just typing that.
Scenario 4 –A wife has had it with her husband for playing Xbox 8 to 12 hours a day. His defense: "My avatar(Zulcan?)fulfills me ways that you cannot.”
So look out for this show when it airs in January. Or don’t. It won’t make you smarter but watching a panel of comedians remark on marriages you don’t want to be in has its perks.
It was nice to see Jerry again and be back in the Saturday Night Live studio. That's right. Been there before. I was an extra on SNL in a MTV spring break parody sketch ten years ago. Did you see me? No. No you did not. My scene was cut. It’s too bad because it involved Horatio Sanz as an obese rapper who had to be rolled out onto the stage. Will Ferrell’s job was to feed him cookie dough. Will Ferrell can do no wrong. "Land of the Lost" didn't really happen. Right?
I saw Jerry Seinfeld this morning in the Saturday Live Studio. I saw him exactly a year ago at Gotham Comedy Club where he showed up to practice a set. He went on stage right after me. Technically, yes, I have opened for Seinfeld. It’s as if we plan to meet this time every year to talk about comedic insight and what it’s like to be a Jew on Christmas. Granted, we’ve never actually spoken but I know people who have talked to him.
I was in the SNL studios with my aunt to watch a pre-production show for a new NBC program called “The Marriage Ref”. Jerry Seinfeld is the creator and executive producer of this show that, according to a press release, “will "feature opinionated celebrities, comedians and sports stars who will candidly comment, judge and offer different strategies for real-life couples in the midst of a classic marital dispute."
Comedian Tom Papa is the impressively capable host and today’s opinionated guests included Greg Giraldo, Jim Breur and some attractive lady from some fashion program that couldn’t match the quick wits of the rest of the panel.
The following were the scenarios where the guests(refs) had to say which domestic partner was right.
Scenario 1
A husband read his wife’s journal that she keeps as a Word Document on their shared computer. The entries evidently had very “juicy” details about her past relationships. He wanted the “journal” out of the house. Yet, he downloaded the document to his PDA. I guess it’s good to have it in a portable device when you’re feeling too good about yourself.
Scenario 2
A wife is annoyed that her husband stands eating at the sink while she and their baby sit at the dinner table. His defense is that its more efficient and clean to be standing. Side note, he was eating a Skippy peanut butter and jelly sandwich. This is also the man who swallows 10 vitamins at once. Ya know, to save time. The wife thinks that will kill him and he says he takes the vitamins to live longer. I wish this couple was in my Speech and Debate class during my sophomore year in high school.
Scenario 3 A husband is disgusted that his wife flosses in bed. I got grossed out just typing that.
Scenario 4 –A wife has had it with her husband for playing Xbox 8 to 12 hours a day. His defense: "My avatar(Zulcan?)fulfills me ways that you cannot.”
So look out for this show when it airs in January. Or don’t. It won’t make you smarter but watching a panel of comedians remark on marriages you don’t want to be in has its perks.
It was nice to see Jerry again and be back in the Saturday Night Live studio. That's right. Been there before. I was an extra on SNL in a MTV spring break parody sketch ten years ago. Did you see me? No. No you did not. My scene was cut. It’s too bad because it involved Horatio Sanz as an obese rapper who had to be rolled out onto the stage. Will Ferrell’s job was to feed him cookie dough. Will Ferrell can do no wrong. "Land of the Lost" didn't really happen. Right?
Monday, December 7, 2009
Day 121 - J.R. Ewing and Hibernation
December 7th, 2009
I didn’t sleep so well last night. I blame my insomnia on the not so wise decision to have a dark chocolate candy bar before I went to bed. I ate the whole thing….you know, since it's' good for me. Antioxidants and shit. I don’t believe in leftovers because my intention is generally to start healthy eating the next day so I prefer not to have remnants of previous edible bad decision making around the apartment.
A few things ruminated in my head as sleep was being a dick.
1) Why are my muscles sore? I've been on an exercise sabbatical so this seems nonsensical. Then I thought about a snowboard lesson that I took in Park City,Utah in 2002. Muscles I didn’t even know existed were brought to my attention the next day. My instructor was hot. Was he Mormon? I hope not. I would have made an exception if he invited me out for a drink of diluted alcohol and proselytizing.
2) Then the thoughts started getting too heavy. Am I on the right track? Am I fulfilling my purpose? Who shot J.R.? I made a conscious decision not to let this heavy mind clutter consume me and moved on to my final topic before sleep set in. Bears.
3) More specifically, bears and hibernation. These carnivorous mammals are onto something. First, you don’t hear of Bear Lunesta for grizzlies suffering from hibernation insomnia. You don't see commercials where mama bear says, “I’m really worried about papa bear. He’s so fidgety during hibernation. Sometimes I hear him leave the cave and violently maul a few helpless campers just to deal with the anxiety.”
Come on readers. Six good months of sleep does have an appeal. Right? Besides saving some money, avoiding seasonal depression and having to make overrated New Year’s plans, let's look at other ways humans could benefit from a really long nap during the colder months.
Bears go into hibernation by cuddling up in a cave or in a hollowed out tree because it is extremely difficult to find enough food during winter. They must build up their body weight by accumulating fat to survive this extended period of inactivity. In the months before hibernation bears can gain up to forty pounds of fat per week. Alright. How awesome would it be to purposefully try to put on 40 pounds? If someone says, “Jax do you really need to eat that entire tub of Crisco? And with a spork for the love of God!” I would just shrug my shoulders and say, “hibernation.”
Once they enter hibernation, a bear’s body goes through several alterations. Its heartbeat drops from fifty-five beats per minute to ten beats per minute and their body temperature will drop from five to nine degrees below normal. This heart beat drop does seem a bit complicated for humans to master . However, with the help of Dr. Oz, Dr Phil and Dr. Dre, I’m sure we can make it happen.
While in hibernation, the bear uses the stored energy it accumulated as fat to survive. Basically, they can lose from fifteen to forty percent of their body weight during the winter just by sleeping. Humans, how appealing does losing weight by sleeping sound? Screw Pilates, the elliptical machine and bulimia. If sleeping from October until May results with me looking smokin’ hot in my bikini come May… sign me up.
One final thought. Kristin Shepard, J.R.'s scheming sister-in-law and mistress, pulled the trigger in a fit of anger. J.R. didn't press charges as Kristin claimed she was pregnant with his child as a result of their affair.
I didn’t sleep so well last night. I blame my insomnia on the not so wise decision to have a dark chocolate candy bar before I went to bed. I ate the whole thing….you know, since it's' good for me. Antioxidants and shit. I don’t believe in leftovers because my intention is generally to start healthy eating the next day so I prefer not to have remnants of previous edible bad decision making around the apartment.
A few things ruminated in my head as sleep was being a dick.
1) Why are my muscles sore? I've been on an exercise sabbatical so this seems nonsensical. Then I thought about a snowboard lesson that I took in Park City,Utah in 2002. Muscles I didn’t even know existed were brought to my attention the next day. My instructor was hot. Was he Mormon? I hope not. I would have made an exception if he invited me out for a drink of diluted alcohol and proselytizing.
2) Then the thoughts started getting too heavy. Am I on the right track? Am I fulfilling my purpose? Who shot J.R.? I made a conscious decision not to let this heavy mind clutter consume me and moved on to my final topic before sleep set in. Bears.
3) More specifically, bears and hibernation. These carnivorous mammals are onto something. First, you don’t hear of Bear Lunesta for grizzlies suffering from hibernation insomnia. You don't see commercials where mama bear says, “I’m really worried about papa bear. He’s so fidgety during hibernation. Sometimes I hear him leave the cave and violently maul a few helpless campers just to deal with the anxiety.”
Come on readers. Six good months of sleep does have an appeal. Right? Besides saving some money, avoiding seasonal depression and having to make overrated New Year’s plans, let's look at other ways humans could benefit from a really long nap during the colder months.
Bears go into hibernation by cuddling up in a cave or in a hollowed out tree because it is extremely difficult to find enough food during winter. They must build up their body weight by accumulating fat to survive this extended period of inactivity. In the months before hibernation bears can gain up to forty pounds of fat per week. Alright. How awesome would it be to purposefully try to put on 40 pounds? If someone says, “Jax do you really need to eat that entire tub of Crisco? And with a spork for the love of God!” I would just shrug my shoulders and say, “hibernation.”
Once they enter hibernation, a bear’s body goes through several alterations. Its heartbeat drops from fifty-five beats per minute to ten beats per minute and their body temperature will drop from five to nine degrees below normal. This heart beat drop does seem a bit complicated for humans to master . However, with the help of Dr. Oz, Dr Phil and Dr. Dre, I’m sure we can make it happen.
While in hibernation, the bear uses the stored energy it accumulated as fat to survive. Basically, they can lose from fifteen to forty percent of their body weight during the winter just by sleeping. Humans, how appealing does losing weight by sleeping sound? Screw Pilates, the elliptical machine and bulimia. If sleeping from October until May results with me looking smokin’ hot in my bikini come May… sign me up.
One final thought. Kristin Shepard, J.R.'s scheming sister-in-law and mistress, pulled the trigger in a fit of anger. J.R. didn't press charges as Kristin claimed she was pregnant with his child as a result of their affair.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Day 120 - Casserole Barricade
December 6th, 2009
I salute the cheap $3 black umbrella industry. As I'm handing over my money to the guy selling them on the sidewalk, I’m wondering just how long this one's going to last. The demise generally begins with a dangerous metal spoke protruding out. Then another. And another. Soon after, the umbrella will abruptly turn inside out. I'll hang on a little longer until I fully accept that I look like a recently released from the institution Mary Poppins. Yet, consistency is soothing and I will continue to buy these short lived umbrellas. I can't quit them.
The expected malfunction occurred last night as I was walking through Soho during our first night of cold kind of snowy weather. I was left to dispose of the umbrella in a trash can filled with other demolished canopies designed to protect against precipitation. Unprotected from the elements, I speed walked to my destination. Until. Until I say. I was blocked by a barricade of 5 heavyset female middle aged tourists(presumably from a red state) who were at a full halt at a crosswalk that had the blinking "Don’t Walk" signal. Any New Yorker knows the blinking light is basically equivalent to "Walk". As I stood trapped, cold and wet amongst women who make casseroles with cornflakes and Velveeta, a vision occurred before me. It was a Microsoft Word 2003 document of these women's New York City vacation itinerary.Let's take a look. Shall we?
-Ride the Staten Island "cruise” for the fun of it.
-Go to the Olive Garden and enjoy authentic Italian cuisine and hospitaliano.
-Go to the Empire State Building and recall every movie where long lost lovers reunite on the observation deck. Then get bitter about your divorce.
-Go to the Ellis Island Immigration Museum and research their extensive database for relatives who entered the country. You find nothing and are left to wonder if your parents forgot to tell you that you are of Native American decent. You get sensitive about your heritage and plight.
-Go to the Statue of Liberty, an American symbol of freedom that welcomed the immigrants who came to America looking for a better life. Now that you're Native American... not so interested.
-Go to the American Museum of Natural History. Tell passersbyers that the real reason dinosaurs became extinct was due to their high processed food diet, playing with fireworks and a crystal meth addiction.
-Go to Central Park and plant a batch of pig in the blankets. Come back next year to find that they have bloomed into full sized hot dogs.
I'm sure these ladies were lovely. I was just frustrated that my hasty saunter during the city's "first frost" had been put to pause. Against my will. When one of the women asked me for directions to the Olive Garden..I promise that I was as delightful as could be as I pointed them in the right direction. As we went separate ways, I yelled across the street, "Be sure to order the Five-Cheese Ziti Al Forno!" Then I tripped on the remains of an umbrella one of these ladies left on the street. Karma.
I salute the cheap $3 black umbrella industry. As I'm handing over my money to the guy selling them on the sidewalk, I’m wondering just how long this one's going to last. The demise generally begins with a dangerous metal spoke protruding out. Then another. And another. Soon after, the umbrella will abruptly turn inside out. I'll hang on a little longer until I fully accept that I look like a recently released from the institution Mary Poppins. Yet, consistency is soothing and I will continue to buy these short lived umbrellas. I can't quit them.
The expected malfunction occurred last night as I was walking through Soho during our first night of cold kind of snowy weather. I was left to dispose of the umbrella in a trash can filled with other demolished canopies designed to protect against precipitation. Unprotected from the elements, I speed walked to my destination. Until. Until I say. I was blocked by a barricade of 5 heavyset female middle aged tourists(presumably from a red state) who were at a full halt at a crosswalk that had the blinking "Don’t Walk" signal. Any New Yorker knows the blinking light is basically equivalent to "Walk". As I stood trapped, cold and wet amongst women who make casseroles with cornflakes and Velveeta, a vision occurred before me. It was a Microsoft Word 2003 document of these women's New York City vacation itinerary.Let's take a look. Shall we?
-Ride the Staten Island "cruise” for the fun of it.
-Go to the Olive Garden and enjoy authentic Italian cuisine and hospitaliano.
-Go to the Empire State Building and recall every movie where long lost lovers reunite on the observation deck. Then get bitter about your divorce.
-Go to the Ellis Island Immigration Museum and research their extensive database for relatives who entered the country. You find nothing and are left to wonder if your parents forgot to tell you that you are of Native American decent. You get sensitive about your heritage and plight.
-Go to the Statue of Liberty, an American symbol of freedom that welcomed the immigrants who came to America looking for a better life. Now that you're Native American... not so interested.
-Go to the American Museum of Natural History. Tell passersbyers that the real reason dinosaurs became extinct was due to their high processed food diet, playing with fireworks and a crystal meth addiction.
-Go to Central Park and plant a batch of pig in the blankets. Come back next year to find that they have bloomed into full sized hot dogs.
I'm sure these ladies were lovely. I was just frustrated that my hasty saunter during the city's "first frost" had been put to pause. Against my will. When one of the women asked me for directions to the Olive Garden..I promise that I was as delightful as could be as I pointed them in the right direction. As we went separate ways, I yelled across the street, "Be sure to order the Five-Cheese Ziti Al Forno!" Then I tripped on the remains of an umbrella one of these ladies left on the street. Karma.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Day 119 - Holiday Season – Celebrate Being a Victim!
December 5th, 2009
The holiday season does offer up the opportunity to repeat bad habits. Many of us have already resorted back to chain smoking, funneling beer and revisiting a toxic past relationship that would be worthy of a Lifetime Original Movie starring Patrick Duffy and Meredith Baxter-Birney. Oh? She came out? Well then, Patty Duke. Every magazine ranging from “Good Housekeeping” to “Sensitive Fisherman” are handing out tips to prevent holiday stress and depression this season. Although I appreciate their suggestions, these articles repeat themselves year after year. This leads me to wonder how effective they are in alleviating the season’s emotional toll. I’m going to make a complete 180 and suggest doing just the opposite. Below are holiday wellness tips from renowned medical practice, The Mayo Clinic. I am refuting them.
Mayo Clinic vs. Jax on Ways to Prevent Holiday Stress and Depression:
1) MC - Acknowledge your feelings. If someone close to you has recently died or you can't be with loved ones, realize that it's normal to feel sadness and grief. It's OK to take time to cry or express your feelings. You can't force yourself to be happy just because it's the holiday season.
JAX - Tell a loved one in an uncontrollable fit of rage that they are singlehandedly responsible for all that has gone wrong in your life. After lashing out, add a little holiday flair by slamming a door, knocking over a Christmas tree or throwing a ham through a glass window.
2)MC - Reach out. If you feel lonely or isolated, seek out community, religious or other social events. They can offer support and companionship. Volunteering your time to help others also is a good way to lift your spirits and broaden your friendships.
JAX – Isolation is a great way to break in your new mattress. What’s the point of getting out from under your high thread count sheets and attend a social event when you'll just end up making an ass of yourself? Besides, attempting social interaction would involve showering, changing the same underwear you’ve had on for a week and making small talk over mediocre eggnog. Who needs the hassle? Stay away from all volunteering and charitable events. If you’re not getting paid for a service..it’s not worth your time.
3) MC - Be realistic. The holidays don't have to be perfect or just like last year. As families change and grow, traditions and rituals often change as well. Choose a few to hold on to, and be open to creating new ones. For example, if your adult children can't come to your house, find new ways to celebrate together, such as sharing pictures, emails or videotapes.
JAX – When some prophetic relative says something like “The only thing constant is change”…slap them across the face and say that you refuse to celebrate if Christmas isn’t an exact replica of last year. The “celebration” could still lead to a sharing of pictures and video tapes. Show your family the sex tape you made with a Brazilian drifter named Alberto in the back of a Greyhound bus back in ’91.
4)MC - Set aside differences. Try to accept family members and friends as they are, even if they don't live up to all your expectations. Set aside grievances until a more appropriate time for discussion. And be understanding if others get upset or distressed when something goes awry. Chances are they're feeling the effects of holiday stress and depression too.
JAX – Family members not meeting your expectations are just emphasizing their weaknesses. Holidays are the ideal time to revisit old deep rooted issues. Presenting your grievances in a PowerPoint presentation will really indicate that you’ve spent a lot of time proving that you are the victim. A pointer adds a nice touch.
5) MC - Don't abandon healthy habits. Don't let the holidays become a free-for-all. Overindulgence only adds to your stress and guilt. Have a healthy snack before holiday parties so that you don't go overboard on sweets, cheese or drinks. Continue to get plenty of sleep and physical activity.
JAX –Next year is about healthy habits. These last few weeks of the year are meant to be dedicated to indulgence, debauchery and bad decision making. Have a few drinks before meeting someone for a drink. Condoms? Please. When it comes to safe sex.. wing it. Go Bungee jumping. With a chord that’s extra long.
The holiday season does offer up the opportunity to repeat bad habits. Many of us have already resorted back to chain smoking, funneling beer and revisiting a toxic past relationship that would be worthy of a Lifetime Original Movie starring Patrick Duffy and Meredith Baxter-Birney. Oh? She came out? Well then, Patty Duke. Every magazine ranging from “Good Housekeeping” to “Sensitive Fisherman” are handing out tips to prevent holiday stress and depression this season. Although I appreciate their suggestions, these articles repeat themselves year after year. This leads me to wonder how effective they are in alleviating the season’s emotional toll. I’m going to make a complete 180 and suggest doing just the opposite. Below are holiday wellness tips from renowned medical practice, The Mayo Clinic. I am refuting them.
Mayo Clinic vs. Jax on Ways to Prevent Holiday Stress and Depression:
1) MC - Acknowledge your feelings. If someone close to you has recently died or you can't be with loved ones, realize that it's normal to feel sadness and grief. It's OK to take time to cry or express your feelings. You can't force yourself to be happy just because it's the holiday season.
JAX - Tell a loved one in an uncontrollable fit of rage that they are singlehandedly responsible for all that has gone wrong in your life. After lashing out, add a little holiday flair by slamming a door, knocking over a Christmas tree or throwing a ham through a glass window.
2)MC - Reach out. If you feel lonely or isolated, seek out community, religious or other social events. They can offer support and companionship. Volunteering your time to help others also is a good way to lift your spirits and broaden your friendships.
JAX – Isolation is a great way to break in your new mattress. What’s the point of getting out from under your high thread count sheets and attend a social event when you'll just end up making an ass of yourself? Besides, attempting social interaction would involve showering, changing the same underwear you’ve had on for a week and making small talk over mediocre eggnog. Who needs the hassle? Stay away from all volunteering and charitable events. If you’re not getting paid for a service..it’s not worth your time.
3) MC - Be realistic. The holidays don't have to be perfect or just like last year. As families change and grow, traditions and rituals often change as well. Choose a few to hold on to, and be open to creating new ones. For example, if your adult children can't come to your house, find new ways to celebrate together, such as sharing pictures, emails or videotapes.
JAX – When some prophetic relative says something like “The only thing constant is change”…slap them across the face and say that you refuse to celebrate if Christmas isn’t an exact replica of last year. The “celebration” could still lead to a sharing of pictures and video tapes. Show your family the sex tape you made with a Brazilian drifter named Alberto in the back of a Greyhound bus back in ’91.
4)MC - Set aside differences. Try to accept family members and friends as they are, even if they don't live up to all your expectations. Set aside grievances until a more appropriate time for discussion. And be understanding if others get upset or distressed when something goes awry. Chances are they're feeling the effects of holiday stress and depression too.
JAX – Family members not meeting your expectations are just emphasizing their weaknesses. Holidays are the ideal time to revisit old deep rooted issues. Presenting your grievances in a PowerPoint presentation will really indicate that you’ve spent a lot of time proving that you are the victim. A pointer adds a nice touch.
5) MC - Don't abandon healthy habits. Don't let the holidays become a free-for-all. Overindulgence only adds to your stress and guilt. Have a healthy snack before holiday parties so that you don't go overboard on sweets, cheese or drinks. Continue to get plenty of sleep and physical activity.
JAX –Next year is about healthy habits. These last few weeks of the year are meant to be dedicated to indulgence, debauchery and bad decision making. Have a few drinks before meeting someone for a drink. Condoms? Please. When it comes to safe sex.. wing it. Go Bungee jumping. With a chord that’s extra long.
Friday, December 4, 2009
Day 118 - Prevent Swelling of the Absurd. On Ice
December 4th, 2009
I’m not really interested in seeing “Precious”. Too heavy. I'll wait for the ice show.
It seems that any over the top ice-skating spectacular adds a bit of whimsy and lightheartedness even to the most disturbing, distasteful and unlikely scenarios. I proved this to myself when learning how to ski in North Carolina as a child. The guys who ran the ski lifts possessed the same level of class as the people who ran the rides at the local carnival that would come to town for a week. Nothing gives you more comfort and reassurance than sitting in a moving chair in the air when the operators are chain smoking, drinking Papst and writing their names in the snow. With their urine. The only way I could process these happenings was to conceptualize an ice show called “Rednecks on Ice”. It was a stunning spectacular where the opening number was called “Scooter Uses His Ironing Board as a Buffet Table”.
Putting Disney and Sesame Street on ice proves effective for the kids but I think adults need more. I feel adding anything to ice can help us make sense of things. Take away the angst if you will. Let’s heal readers. Let’s heal.
Below, I have conceptualized some ice shows that could lessen the effect of all that might be defined as awkward, unfortunate and offensive.
• Being Drunk off Jagermeister at 10am in the Morning is a Problem on Ice
• Do You Really Need that Second Chocolate Éclair? A Moment on the Lips an Eternity on the Hips. On Ice
• Zima and Boxes of Wine on Ice
• Lice, Mice and Andrew Dice. On Ice
• The Irony That Hipsters Are The Worst Offenders of Conforming to Conformity. Find Your Own Uniqueness. Come On. On Ice
• Vanilla Ice on Ice
• I Slept with Your Brother. Twice. On Ice. He’s Better Than You. On Ice 2. Maybe Not. Please Take Me Back. On Ice 3
• Stop Pretending that You’re Not a Flaming Homosexual When We All Know That You’re Gayer Than a French Horn on Ice
• Mall Speed Walkers on Ice
• Syringes on the Shoreline on Ice
• Sure. This is The First Time You Weren’t Able to Maintain an Erection. On Ice
• This is the Gary Busey of the Nick Nolte of Toilet Paper on Ice
• When Does my Unemployed Run Out on Ice
• Overpaid Professional Athletes Who Marry and Cheat on Women Who Would Otherwise be Out of Their League. On Ice
I’m not really interested in seeing “Precious”. Too heavy. I'll wait for the ice show.
It seems that any over the top ice-skating spectacular adds a bit of whimsy and lightheartedness even to the most disturbing, distasteful and unlikely scenarios. I proved this to myself when learning how to ski in North Carolina as a child. The guys who ran the ski lifts possessed the same level of class as the people who ran the rides at the local carnival that would come to town for a week. Nothing gives you more comfort and reassurance than sitting in a moving chair in the air when the operators are chain smoking, drinking Papst and writing their names in the snow. With their urine. The only way I could process these happenings was to conceptualize an ice show called “Rednecks on Ice”. It was a stunning spectacular where the opening number was called “Scooter Uses His Ironing Board as a Buffet Table”.
Putting Disney and Sesame Street on ice proves effective for the kids but I think adults need more. I feel adding anything to ice can help us make sense of things. Take away the angst if you will. Let’s heal readers. Let’s heal.
Below, I have conceptualized some ice shows that could lessen the effect of all that might be defined as awkward, unfortunate and offensive.
• Being Drunk off Jagermeister at 10am in the Morning is a Problem on Ice
• Do You Really Need that Second Chocolate Éclair? A Moment on the Lips an Eternity on the Hips. On Ice
• Zima and Boxes of Wine on Ice
• Lice, Mice and Andrew Dice. On Ice
• The Irony That Hipsters Are The Worst Offenders of Conforming to Conformity. Find Your Own Uniqueness. Come On. On Ice
• Vanilla Ice on Ice
• I Slept with Your Brother. Twice. On Ice. He’s Better Than You. On Ice 2. Maybe Not. Please Take Me Back. On Ice 3
• Stop Pretending that You’re Not a Flaming Homosexual When We All Know That You’re Gayer Than a French Horn on Ice
• Mall Speed Walkers on Ice
• Syringes on the Shoreline on Ice
• Sure. This is The First Time You Weren’t Able to Maintain an Erection. On Ice
• This is the Gary Busey of the Nick Nolte of Toilet Paper on Ice
• When Does my Unemployed Run Out on Ice
• Overpaid Professional Athletes Who Marry and Cheat on Women Who Would Otherwise be Out of Their League. On Ice
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Day 117 - Cod Trophy
December 3rd, 2009
A few nights ago I went out to eat at an Italian restaurant. I had just had some Scotch so I was a bit woozy and indecisive as I was perusing the menu. Reading food options from a piece of paper seemed too strenuous so I was left scanning prepared meals at the restaurant and made notes of what looked appealing. I would love to live in a world where it would be encouraged to just walk around a restaurant with a giant fork(or spork) and ask patrons in the "eating" phase of their dining experience for a bite. But it has occurred to me that this type of proposition is frowned upon. I learned that the hard way.
The woman next to me was eating an intriguing piece of white fish.
I asked her what it was and she told me in a self righteous tone that it was the cod. This is how our exchange went. She will be referred to as SRCEB - Self Righteous Cod Eating Bitch.
Jax – Excuse me m’am..may I ask what you’re eating?
SRCEB - How dare you interrupt me..but since you're legendary blog writer Jacqueline Beth Kabat I will indulge you with a moment of my time. It’s the Cod..it’s superb
Jax – You’re too kind. My friends call me Jax. So..please..call me Jacqueline.
SRCEB - Jackie, this cod is so divine that I am astonishing for choosing it over the salmon. Later in the night, I will be receiving a trophy for ordering it. If you even dare possess a fraction of my awesomeity..you will order the cod
Jax – You are just lovely SRCEB. What a surprise that you are dining alone.
I might have embellished this back and forth a little. And by a little...I mean that I pretty much made the whole thing up. It's fun to allow hard liquor make our memory recollection more colorful. More colourful if you're Canadian.
So yeah, I ended up ordering the cod. I wanted the trophy.
A few nights ago I went out to eat at an Italian restaurant. I had just had some Scotch so I was a bit woozy and indecisive as I was perusing the menu. Reading food options from a piece of paper seemed too strenuous so I was left scanning prepared meals at the restaurant and made notes of what looked appealing. I would love to live in a world where it would be encouraged to just walk around a restaurant with a giant fork(or spork) and ask patrons in the "eating" phase of their dining experience for a bite. But it has occurred to me that this type of proposition is frowned upon. I learned that the hard way.
The woman next to me was eating an intriguing piece of white fish.
I asked her what it was and she told me in a self righteous tone that it was the cod. This is how our exchange went. She will be referred to as SRCEB - Self Righteous Cod Eating Bitch.
Jax – Excuse me m’am..may I ask what you’re eating?
SRCEB - How dare you interrupt me..but since you're legendary blog writer Jacqueline Beth Kabat I will indulge you with a moment of my time. It’s the Cod..it’s superb
Jax – You’re too kind. My friends call me Jax. So..please..call me Jacqueline.
SRCEB - Jackie, this cod is so divine that I am astonishing for choosing it over the salmon. Later in the night, I will be receiving a trophy for ordering it. If you even dare possess a fraction of my awesomeity..you will order the cod
Jax – You are just lovely SRCEB. What a surprise that you are dining alone.
I might have embellished this back and forth a little. And by a little...I mean that I pretty much made the whole thing up. It's fun to allow hard liquor make our memory recollection more colorful. More colourful if you're Canadian.
So yeah, I ended up ordering the cod. I wanted the trophy.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Day 116 - Higher Power Auditions
December 2nd, 2009
Let’s kick back to 1985, grab a Tab and enjoy the soothing sounds of Corey Hart’s “Never Surrender”.
Just a little more time is all we're asking for
Cause just a little more time could open closing doors
Just a little uncertainty can bring you down
And nobody wants to know you now
And nobody wants to show you how
So if you're lost and on your own
You can never surrender
And if your path won't lead you home
You can never surrender
And when the night is cold and dark
You can see, you can see light
Cause no-one can take away your right
To fight and never surrender
So yeah sha la la Corey Hart…but sometimes we need to surrender.
This is not the first time that I’ve disagreed with you Hart. First of all, your excessive use of hair product in the mid 80’s might single handedly be responsible for a fraction of the ozone layer’s depletion. It’s true. Al Gore told me. Next up, it’s just not necessary to wear your sunglasses at night. Come on.
The idea of surrendering to emotions often seems too stress ridden, intangible and grandiose to wrap our minds around.
I know many people who have regained their lives from 12- Step Programs. I would not declare myself an expert in any of the nuisances and discoveries that recovering addicts experience during this endeavor. However, I know that many of my friends would not have gained the strength to complete the program if it had not been for the idea of surrendering to a Higher Power. From what I understand, this is a power greater than ourselves and can be anything at all that we believe is adequate. Friends who have completed the steps claim that having their Higher Power has allowed them to restore their sanity, provide a defense and live in a new and wonderful world, no matter of the circumstances.
I love this philosophy.
I would imagine that many people have a hard time embracing the Higher Power concept as they might associate it with religious and new age concepts that aren’t in their circle of belief and comfort. I’m a visual person and I want to expand on the idea that this power can be anything we believe is adequate. As I’ve said before, we’re all the sum of our varying and unique experiences so our Higher Powers must be far ranging. They should be. Have fun with choosing yours. There are no wrong Higher Powers. Just people wrongly not surrendering because they haven’t found their Higher Power match.
I’m in the process of auditioning some Higher Powers for myself in the back of my local coffee shop. This is who I have lined up for today:
-Morgan Freeman
-Thin Elvis
-George Burns
-Charlton Heston as Moses( not gun wielding NRA Heston)
-Claire Huxtable
-A Native American with a tear in his eye
-Shel Silverstein
-Jesus
-Black Jesus
-A Solid Gold dancer
-Clifford the Big Red Dog
-Quaker Oats guy
-Any of the Village People
-The random old man who just patted me on the back as I was typing. He said, “I’ve seen you here. You’re a hard worker.”
This is an open audition and anyone or thing can try out. The only applications that I am not accepting:
-Kanye west
-Hitler
-James Cameron saying that he is king of the world.
Anyone who declares himself to be a Higher Power..is not a Higher Power. Watch your back.
Let’s kick back to 1985, grab a Tab and enjoy the soothing sounds of Corey Hart’s “Never Surrender”.
Just a little more time is all we're asking for
Cause just a little more time could open closing doors
Just a little uncertainty can bring you down
And nobody wants to know you now
And nobody wants to show you how
So if you're lost and on your own
You can never surrender
And if your path won't lead you home
You can never surrender
And when the night is cold and dark
You can see, you can see light
Cause no-one can take away your right
To fight and never surrender
So yeah sha la la Corey Hart…but sometimes we need to surrender.
This is not the first time that I’ve disagreed with you Hart. First of all, your excessive use of hair product in the mid 80’s might single handedly be responsible for a fraction of the ozone layer’s depletion. It’s true. Al Gore told me. Next up, it’s just not necessary to wear your sunglasses at night. Come on.
The idea of surrendering to emotions often seems too stress ridden, intangible and grandiose to wrap our minds around.
I know many people who have regained their lives from 12- Step Programs. I would not declare myself an expert in any of the nuisances and discoveries that recovering addicts experience during this endeavor. However, I know that many of my friends would not have gained the strength to complete the program if it had not been for the idea of surrendering to a Higher Power. From what I understand, this is a power greater than ourselves and can be anything at all that we believe is adequate. Friends who have completed the steps claim that having their Higher Power has allowed them to restore their sanity, provide a defense and live in a new and wonderful world, no matter of the circumstances.
I love this philosophy.
I would imagine that many people have a hard time embracing the Higher Power concept as they might associate it with religious and new age concepts that aren’t in their circle of belief and comfort. I’m a visual person and I want to expand on the idea that this power can be anything we believe is adequate. As I’ve said before, we’re all the sum of our varying and unique experiences so our Higher Powers must be far ranging. They should be. Have fun with choosing yours. There are no wrong Higher Powers. Just people wrongly not surrendering because they haven’t found their Higher Power match.
I’m in the process of auditioning some Higher Powers for myself in the back of my local coffee shop. This is who I have lined up for today:
-Morgan Freeman
-Thin Elvis
-George Burns
-Charlton Heston as Moses( not gun wielding NRA Heston)
-Claire Huxtable
-A Native American with a tear in his eye
-Shel Silverstein
-Jesus
-Black Jesus
-A Solid Gold dancer
-Clifford the Big Red Dog
-Quaker Oats guy
-Any of the Village People
-The random old man who just patted me on the back as I was typing. He said, “I’ve seen you here. You’re a hard worker.”
This is an open audition and anyone or thing can try out. The only applications that I am not accepting:
-Kanye west
-Hitler
-James Cameron saying that he is king of the world.
Anyone who declares himself to be a Higher Power..is not a Higher Power. Watch your back.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Day 115 - Almost Onion Worthy
December 1st, 2009
In 2004, "The Onion" invited me to submit headlines to America’s Finest News Source. Although the below were not used, I wanted to document them somewhere in the space of cyber. Their loss. Your Gain. Enjoy.
• Mannequin’s Layoff Due To Lack of Enthusiasm
• Hot White Girl Can’t Get Cab
• Spring Break Daytona Beach Filled With Mildly Insecure Women, Fraternity Brother, 'Very Pleased'
• Waiter Came To New York To Become Waiter
• Stewardess Fined For Poorly Tied Neckerchief
• Bathroom Attendant Constipated
• New Ager Gets In Touch With Soul. 'Not That Impressed'
• Sonogram Shows Fetus ‘Shooting The Bird' At Parents And Doctor
• Stepford Wife Says Dying At A Dinner Party Is ‘Just Rude’
• Lumberjack Gets Delicate Aromatherapy Facial. Feels ‘Rejuvenated’
• Elmo Has Lasting Traces Of Big Bird Flu. Grover Stunned
• Short Bus ‘Not So Special’ After All
• Klan Member Claims That New Low Thread Count Sheets Are Itchy
• Focus Group of 8 Year Olds Prefer Kettle One To Stoli
• Linguistic Professor Declares Dean To Be A ‘Major Douche’
• Alpha Male Claims Wine Coolers ‘Aren’t That Gay’
• Local Restaurant's ' Employees Must Wash Hands Sign’ Never Been Washed
• Coal Miner: ‘Job Not As Glamorous As Nation Thinks’
• Mental Institution Patient Claims Hospital's Christmas Party ‘Was Just Crazy’
• Journalism Professor Fails Student For Excessive Use Of Emoticons
• Grand Wizard Invites Palestinian Leaders To Antisemitic Barbecue
• Internet Dating: ‘Great Way For White People To Meet White People'
• Man Buys Shoes At Store Called “Just Socks”
• Monet Faces Paint By Number Investigation
• Geriatrics On Ice: 'Dazzling And Surprisingly Limber'
• Mime Offends Blind Man
• Man Who Sits At Starbucks All Day With Laptop Claims That Loud Milk Frothing Machine Is ‘Unacceptable in Work Environment'
• All Lesbian Production Of '12 Angry Men' Scores Praise
In 2004, "The Onion" invited me to submit headlines to America’s Finest News Source. Although the below were not used, I wanted to document them somewhere in the space of cyber. Their loss. Your Gain. Enjoy.
• Mannequin’s Layoff Due To Lack of Enthusiasm
• Hot White Girl Can’t Get Cab
• Spring Break Daytona Beach Filled With Mildly Insecure Women, Fraternity Brother, 'Very Pleased'
• Waiter Came To New York To Become Waiter
• Stewardess Fined For Poorly Tied Neckerchief
• Bathroom Attendant Constipated
• New Ager Gets In Touch With Soul. 'Not That Impressed'
• Sonogram Shows Fetus ‘Shooting The Bird' At Parents And Doctor
• Stepford Wife Says Dying At A Dinner Party Is ‘Just Rude’
• Lumberjack Gets Delicate Aromatherapy Facial. Feels ‘Rejuvenated’
• Elmo Has Lasting Traces Of Big Bird Flu. Grover Stunned
• Short Bus ‘Not So Special’ After All
• Klan Member Claims That New Low Thread Count Sheets Are Itchy
• Focus Group of 8 Year Olds Prefer Kettle One To Stoli
• Linguistic Professor Declares Dean To Be A ‘Major Douche’
• Alpha Male Claims Wine Coolers ‘Aren’t That Gay’
• Local Restaurant's ' Employees Must Wash Hands Sign’ Never Been Washed
• Coal Miner: ‘Job Not As Glamorous As Nation Thinks’
• Mental Institution Patient Claims Hospital's Christmas Party ‘Was Just Crazy’
• Journalism Professor Fails Student For Excessive Use Of Emoticons
• Grand Wizard Invites Palestinian Leaders To Antisemitic Barbecue
• Internet Dating: ‘Great Way For White People To Meet White People'
• Man Buys Shoes At Store Called “Just Socks”
• Monet Faces Paint By Number Investigation
• Geriatrics On Ice: 'Dazzling And Surprisingly Limber'
• Mime Offends Blind Man
• Man Who Sits At Starbucks All Day With Laptop Claims That Loud Milk Frothing Machine Is ‘Unacceptable in Work Environment'
• All Lesbian Production Of '12 Angry Men' Scores Praise
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