<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661</id><updated>2012-02-16T15:17:49.474-05:00</updated><category term='feeling sorry for myself'/><category term='moving'/><category term='death by chemicals'/><category term='beer'/><category term='dreams'/><category term='fun stuff'/><category term='parties'/><category term='movies'/><category term='food'/><category term='Grandma'/><category term='clothes'/><category term='California'/><category term='internet'/><category term='twitching'/><category term='TMI'/><category term='big life choices'/><category term='writing'/><category term='death by television'/><category term='work'/><category term='hair'/><category term='whining'/><category term='passive activism'/><title type='text'>An Open Letter to My Mother</title><subtitle type='html'>Stuff that only a mother could care about.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>160</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-3421458613121048930</id><published>2008-03-06T00:27:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T00:30:20.851-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Women and Beer</title><content type='html'>So there's this thing called Squidoo that is supposed to be able to help your page rank and drive more traffic to your site. I made one for the beer stuff:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.squidoo.com/womenlovebeer"&gt;http://www.squidoo.com/womenlovebeer&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It can't hurt, and I can write about anything I want, which is kinda fun. I feel like I have to be professional and legitimate on Beer at Joe's.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I'm being profiled by and writing a guest post for another beer blog. I'll give y'all a link when it goes up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-3421458613121048930?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3421458613121048930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=3421458613121048930&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3421458613121048930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3421458613121048930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2008/03/women-and-beer.html' title='Women and Beer'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-2440702731259870533</id><published>2008-02-21T22:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-21T22:35:09.151-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Camp 20 Cabins, Laona, WI</title><content type='html'>I finished the new cabin website a few weeks ago. Check it out: &lt;a href="http://www.camp20cabins.com/"&gt;Camp 20 Cabins&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-2440702731259870533?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2440702731259870533/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=2440702731259870533&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2440702731259870533'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2440702731259870533'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/camp-20-cabins-laona-wi.html' title='Camp 20 Cabins, Laona, WI'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-4579122737428916785</id><published>2007-12-24T01:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-24T01:52:50.433-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Winter Solstice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/R29WkXPwVTI/AAAAAAAAAA8/iXDNRxd_Xcs/s1600-h/DSC04235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/R29WkXPwVTI/AAAAAAAAAA8/iXDNRxd_Xcs/s320/DSC04235.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147428081823143218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every year, Muir Woods Park Services hold a Winter Solstice party. There were bonfires and singing and free apple cider. But the most amazing things are the candles. They're just little tea lights in white paper bags, but the rangers line all the main paved paths in the beginning part of the park. We wandered through once when it was just getting dark, and I'm glad we did. You could still see the redwoods stretching above you, but you could see the candles stretching into the woods like fairy lights too. A few hours later, that's ALL you could see. Our camera isn't good enough to capture all those, but we got a few decent closeup shots (see me above!) It got SO COLD, but it just made you want to huddle around the bonfires. Our night ended with watching a group of men do what I can only assume is a traditional pagan dance to the sound of a recorder. The best (and first) solstice celebration I've been too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/R29W_HPwVUI/AAAAAAAAABE/LlZcctAJKEU/s1600-h/DSC04242.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/R29W_HPwVUI/AAAAAAAAABE/LlZcctAJKEU/s320/DSC04242.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147428541384643906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-4579122737428916785?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4579122737428916785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=4579122737428916785&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4579122737428916785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4579122737428916785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/winter-solstice.html' title='Winter Solstice'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/R29WkXPwVTI/AAAAAAAAAA8/iXDNRxd_Xcs/s72-c/DSC04235.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1208158235758962590</id><published>2007-12-14T17:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-14T17:38:32.791-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Silly things</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="background:#006600; text-align:center; padding:8px 32px;margin:0px 10%;border:8px #990000 solid;color:#000"&gt;&lt;p style="font-size:1.6em;font-family:times,verdana,arial; margin:16px; color:#FFF"&gt;And so this is Xmas,&lt;br&gt;I hope you have Jasmine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Merry Xmas (War is Over)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;from the &lt;a href="http://thesurrealist.co.uk/christmas" style="color:#fff"&gt;Christmas Song Generator&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;form action="http://thesurrealist.co.uk/christmas.php" method="get"&gt;Get your own song : &lt;input type="text" name="word" SIZE=10&gt; &lt;input type="submit" value="Sing" class="button"&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahahahahahahahaha!&lt;br /&gt;And almost as funny:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="background:#006600; text-align:center; padding:8px 32px;margin:0px 10%;border:8px #990000 solid;color:#000"&gt;&lt;p style="font-size:1.6em;font-family:times,verdana,arial; margin:16px; color:#FFF"&gt;I'm dreaming of a white Jasmine,&lt;br&gt;Just like the ones we used to know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;White Christmas&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br&gt;from the &lt;a href="http://thesurrealist.co.uk/christmas" style="color:#fff"&gt;Christmas Song Generator&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;form action="http://thesurrealist.co.uk/christmas.php" method="get"&gt;Get your own song : &lt;input type="text" name="word" SIZE=10&gt; &lt;input type="submit" value="Sing" class="button"&gt;&lt;/form&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In real news, I'm making peanut butter kiss cookies today and I did the thing where you substitute unsweetened applesauce for half the butter and before I got all the other ingredients in there they tasted like apple peanut butter cookies which is not a bad thing. Not bad at all. Now we just have to see if they will hold their balls.&lt;br /&gt;We're going to get a Christmas tree tomorrow!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1208158235758962590?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1208158235758962590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1208158235758962590&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1208158235758962590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1208158235758962590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/silly-things.html' title='Silly things'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-5381143827270593467</id><published>2007-12-03T18:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-03T18:21:42.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hotlanta</title><content type='html'>We're back from Atlanta! We didn't actually see much of the city, of course, being almost entirely wrapped up in Bar Mitzvah activities, but the skyline was pretty :)&lt;br /&gt;Also, it was colder than I expected. Not like Wisconsin or Delaware cold, but cold enough to require a sweatshirt and hat at night.&lt;br /&gt;I met Joe's "extended" family at this gathering. His Aunt Jacki is really his godmother, and an old friend of his dad's, but Joe thinks of them all as family. His cousins are really cool, and very easy to hang out with.&lt;br /&gt;As soon as we got to the hotel (the Hyatt), a hotel employee met us at the door, told us they were overbooked, and sent us "next door" to the Hilton. The Hilton was actually half a mile down the road.&lt;br /&gt;Nobody explained anything to us. The Hyatt gave us a letter saying they were paying for the night, but we assumed we were still paying for the original room...we were very confused. Also the Hilton did not have free breakfast and that annoyed me too. In the end, it turned out we got our first night FREE which made me very happy. If only they would have explained that to us in the first place, I wouldn't have gotten all irritated with them. Also, we came and got our free breakfast from them Saturday morning anyways!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-5381143827270593467?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5381143827270593467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=5381143827270593467&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/5381143827270593467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/5381143827270593467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/hotlanta.html' title='Hotlanta'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-7768348611091944709</id><published>2007-11-12T20:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T20:59:53.020-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun stuff'/><title type='text'>Our Fun New Project</title><content type='html'>Because you know you've missed watching Joe drink beer on a couch:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.beeratjoes.com/"&gt;http://www.beeratjoes.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't worry, I'll make some appearances eventually. But I'm more of a behind-the-camera, writing the post text, kind of gal.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, though, I hope to do a women in beer and beer for non-beer drinkers series (if we managed to find a beer my mom likes, I should be able to please anyone!)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-7768348611091944709?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7768348611091944709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=7768348611091944709&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7768348611091944709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7768348611091944709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/11/our-fun-new-project.html' title='Our Fun New Project'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-6621844326072920807</id><published>2007-10-30T19:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-30T19:57:29.621-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Not Austistic</title><content type='html'>I took this test to find out if I was autistic: &lt;a href="http://www.rdos.net/eng/Aspie-quiz.php"&gt;http://www.rdos.net/eng/Aspie-quiz.php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the results mean I'm mostly normal, with a tiny flare of compulsive behaviors.&lt;br /&gt;This seems to stem from&lt;br /&gt;1) My daydreaminess&lt;br /&gt;2)My aversion to loud noises and inability to deal with background noise and&lt;br /&gt;3) My utter exhaustion from spending too much time with people from any length of time&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm pretty sure 2 &amp;amp; 3 come directly from my parents. But also, when I worked at the rehab center, someone once suggested to me that I might have a mild auditory dysfunction. It's not the same as being slightly deaf. It's about how my brain processes sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[img]http://www.rdos.net/eng/quizpoly.php?p1=18&amp;amp;p2=80&amp;amp;p3=28&amp;amp;p4=24&amp;amp;p5=69&amp;amp;p6=54&amp;amp;p7=18&amp;amp;p8=67&amp;amp;p9=29[/img]&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-6621844326072920807?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6621844326072920807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=6621844326072920807&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/6621844326072920807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/6621844326072920807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/10/not-austistic.html' title='Not Austistic'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-2711449220205463907</id><published>2007-10-09T16:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T16:52:32.211-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='internet'/><title type='text'>Weird Things on the Internet</title><content type='html'>It's been a whole month since my last post. Eep!&lt;br /&gt;So here's a fun link for you:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.news.com.au/perthnow/story/0,21598,22492511-5005375,00.html"&gt;http://www.news.com.au/perthnow/story/0,21598,22492511-5005375,00.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see it counter-clockwise, and the only way I can make it go clockwise is to unfocus and let my lazy eye go out to the side.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what that says about me. Was I more creative before I gained control of that eyeball? Hmm...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-2711449220205463907?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2711449220205463907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=2711449220205463907&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2711449220205463907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2711449220205463907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/10/weird-things-on-internet.html' title='Weird Things on the Internet'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-981910803300263104</id><published>2007-09-10T18:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-10T18:29:18.452-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wedding</title><content type='html'>My whole body aches today. In the last 5 days, I spent 13 hours on a plane, 5 hours sleeping sitting upright on a plane, 2 hours sleeping sprawled on the floor of the Cinncinati airport, danced for 3 hours in heels, drove from Milwaukee to Madison and back again (tense and frantic both times) and got less than 5 hours of sleep per night on average.I'm actually suprised I feel as good as I do.&lt;br /&gt;Coffee was enough to keep me going today; no painkillers necessary.&lt;br /&gt;After a less-painful-than-last-time redeye to Milwaukee, my friend picked Joe and I up at the airport and drove us to her parents' house for showers, cereal and coffee. We then rushed out to see my other friend's new baby (cute!) and then on to the Miller Brewery Tour, because that's how we roll. The actual tour is kinda lame, but they give you quite a bit of free beer at the end, so it's worth it. Also, they will mail a brewery postcard to anywhere in the world. I got an awesome t-shirt too, with the Miller Girl in the Moon in pink on the front.&lt;br /&gt;That night we BBQed and got eaten to shreds by mosquitos, but that was the longest night of sleep we got.&lt;br /&gt;The next day, Joe and I rented a car and drove to New Glarus, home to the greatest beer of all time. Spotted Cow is what they're known for, but the Belgian Red is to die for. The town of New Glarus is know as Wisconsin's Little Switzerland, and the buildings are all decked out swiss-style. There's even a Historic Swiss Village. We ate Wiener Schnitzel and fried cheese curds at one of the restaurants in town. They had nuttin' but New Glarus beer on tap! The food was awesome, though I don't think The Boy got an accurate representation for his first taste of deep-fried cheese curds. They should be breaded, greasy, squeaky little nuggets that were shipped frozen in a cardboard box. These ones were homemade and delicious.The actual brewery tour is great. It's a self-guided audio tour, and it will make you love the owners. I got a t-shirt there, too.&lt;br /&gt;Parents: It's only 20 minutes away, just past Fitchburg, and totally worth an afternoon of your time next time you're down there!&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was had on State Street. Since it was the first Friday of the school year, we were swarmed with students. It was still fun, until I discovered that the Catacombs is gone. My favorite coffeeshop of all time, in the basement of a church at the beginning of State Street is now A SUBWAY!!! STATE STREET ALREADY HAS A SUBWAY!!! Not to sound like a "good ole days" whiner, but come on. How many chains do we need on State Street? I wouldn't be so sad if all these places were being replaced by new and interesting stores, but it seems like the chain restaurants just keep multiplying. It's depressing.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning was the Farmer's Market. My friend, after seeing an old lady walk by, and then two students, remarked that she loved the farmer's market because there were so many different people here. I looked around and pointed out that every single person there was white. Some of the sellers were Asian or Mexican. Other than that...white. Discussion ensued.&lt;br /&gt;The wedding that night was by far the most traditional one I've been to in a long time. The bride had a great big veil, her father "gave" her away, they had swans carved out of ice, you got to choose salmon or chicken for your meal, everyone did the hokey pokey...you get the idea. I had tons of fun, since most of my college friends were there. Most of the time we were the only ones dancing, and we were some of the few who closed out the reception.&lt;br /&gt;Man, I miss my friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-981910803300263104?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/981910803300263104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=981910803300263104&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/981910803300263104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/981910803300263104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/09/wedding.html' title='The Wedding'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1815276130384693212</id><published>2007-09-05T19:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T19:09:14.159-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Whirlwind Wisconsin Weekend</title><content type='html'>Off to Wisconsin for Kelly's wedding soon. We're taking a redeye tonight (ugh!) and arriving in Milwaukee around 9am tomorrow. Then we will have a whirlwind tour of Milwaukee, including the Miller Brewery, and my friend and her new baby. On Friday we'll head to New Glarus (&lt;a href="http://www.swisstown.com/"&gt;http://www.swisstown.com/&lt;/a&gt;) to see the kitchy Swiss buildings but mostly to visit the New Glarus Brewery, my favority brewery of all time.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, that's a lot of beer. But since we're spending the rest of the time with all of MY college friends, I figure I owe Joe that much.&lt;br /&gt;Then Saturday is the wedding, Sunday is recovery and our flight back. Whew!&lt;br /&gt;Then planning for my parents' trip here shall begin! Er...continue, I mean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1815276130384693212?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1815276130384693212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1815276130384693212&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1815276130384693212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1815276130384693212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/09/whirlwind-wisconsin-weekend.html' title='Whirlwind Wisconsin Weekend'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-4379243447417647676</id><published>2007-08-30T17:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-30T17:25:22.422-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death by television'/><title type='text'>Kill Me Now</title><content type='html'>Why, yes--I did just spend 3 hours watching the beach volleyball playoffs. Why do you ask?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-4379243447417647676?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4379243447417647676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=4379243447417647676&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4379243447417647676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4379243447417647676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/kill-me-now.html' title='Kill Me Now'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-4581484935933813477</id><published>2007-08-27T18:44:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T18:51:00.985-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clothes'/><title type='text'>Because I know you were worried...</title><content type='html'>The Great Bra Crisis of 2007 has been averted! You may now returned safely to your homes in an orderly fashion!&lt;br /&gt;I got a few of other things too. I spent all Friday night shopping, while Joe went to see Avenue Q (I saw it on Broadway). I got some shirts, a pair of shorts, and found a dress for Kelly's wedding.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't even spend much money. A lot of my purchases came from Macy's and I (finally!) used the gift card Joe's mom gave me for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;Plus the dress was on sale at JCPenneys. ALL dresses were on sale there (if anyone else is interested), presumably because the prom/school dance season is well over, and the summer wedding season is nearly over.&lt;br /&gt;And I already have heels to match the dress, so I don't have to go shoe shopping. That's ANOTHER crisis averted!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-4581484935933813477?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4581484935933813477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=4581484935933813477&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4581484935933813477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4581484935933813477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/because-i-know-you-were-worried.html' title='Because I know you were worried...'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1530240829403782883</id><published>2007-08-24T14:51:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-24T15:01:18.292-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='clothes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TMI'/><title type='text'>Caffeinated Snot</title><content type='html'>This morning I went to go take a drink of my coffee, and realized that it smelled the same way a damp basement full of old magazines smells. Since I had made the good hazelnut coffee this morning, that couldn't be possible. I decided it was probably the mug (which I hadn't bothered to wash that morning and had been sitting in my desk cupboard overnight). I took another experimental sip, and managed to slop coffee down my (white) shirt. I jumped up and ran to the kitchen to sop it up.&lt;br /&gt;While in the kitchen, I realized my nose was running. I blew my nose and out came coffee.&lt;br /&gt;No kidding.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I actually managed to get coffee UP my nose when I slopped it everywhere, or if I inhaled the coffee that was in my mouth at the time up the back of my nasal passages when I jumped up to run away. But at least it wasn't too hot.&lt;br /&gt;I am corporate material for sure!&lt;br /&gt;Also, in case you were concerned, I did manage to get the coffee stains out of my shirt.&lt;br /&gt;While we're on the subject of TMI, I currently only have 3 bras left that I can wear. Only one of them actually fits. I have dubbed this the great bra crisis of 2007 and I am skipping a beer event with Joe tomorrow to go shopping for these critical underthings.&lt;br /&gt;I will be sure to let you know when we are off red alert.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1530240829403782883?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1530240829403782883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1530240829403782883&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1530240829403782883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1530240829403782883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/caffeinated-snot.html' title='Caffeinated Snot'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1061882418794202418</id><published>2007-08-17T14:39:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-17T14:58:45.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Finances</title><content type='html'>I actually managed to pay off my credit cards a few months ago (I got backed up because of the move) and now I've started saving again. Yay for savings!&lt;br /&gt;I use ING direct, which is an online bank. They give you a higher interest rate than most regular banks (just under 5 percent right now) but they are still FDIC insured. I finally got both Joe and Luke to open one of these for themselves. It takes about 1-2 days for me to transfer funds out of it, so I keep some (but very little) emergency money stashed in my savings account that is linked to my debit card too.&lt;br /&gt;I never stopped putting money into my IRA (you can't, or you get charged extra fees and that's stupid). Recently, I split the money that was in there. I kept half in the regular fund I had originally chosen (which is supposed to be a growth and income type of index fund--and has done pretty well so far). The other half I put into an emerging Asian markets fund--as in stocks from India, China, etc. I wish I would have done this a while ago. Those markets have SHOT up. They're risky, but you can make serious money. You can be risky when you're young. And in the end, they are still mutual funds, so aren't THAT risky. When that one gets big enough, I'm going to split it again, and put half the money into another emerging markets fund, maybe a Europe or South America one this time.&lt;br /&gt;On top of this, I actually have a real 401k at work. With matching funds, even. I started putting money into that as soon as I was eligible. Woot. I might not have to keep working until I'm 90. All that money is in a standard stock market index fund. I don't know how long I'll be working here, so I don't want to go sticking it in crazy funds that might be way down when I am forced to take the money out.&lt;br /&gt;The only area I'm falling behind in is my paperwork. I have a mound of papers piling up, including unopened bank statement from the last couple of months. I really need to sort through those and double-check all my numbers and such. Also, Joe and I were going to open up a brokerage account so we could mess around with buying individual stocks that we want--but that seems to have stalled out. Again. We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1061882418794202418?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1061882418794202418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1061882418794202418&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1061882418794202418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1061882418794202418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/finances.html' title='Finances'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-3334721546829236601</id><published>2007-08-15T19:13:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-15T19:55:02.975-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Party like it's 1999</title><content type='html'>This last weekend was packed with wild and crazy times--so I'm going to try to rip through it for ya'.&lt;br /&gt;First of all, my friend Kelly, whose wedding I'm going back to Madison for in a few weeks, was in town for a visit. So Friday night we grabbed food in North Beach (we ran out of time trying to wait to get into a crowded italian restaurant and wound up grabbing burgers) and went to a comedy club. Christy, of course, decides that it would be a fantastic idea for us to sit in the FRONT ROW. This is a bad idea. Usually I worry about Joe, who tends to get picked on at things like this. But no, Kelly was the one who got all the flak. Every. Single. Comic made a comment about how bored she looked--she would smile but didn't laugh. Plus, we were so close, it was hard to keep looking up at them. We were looking right up their noses, so they made fun of her for looking away. Which made it all the more hilarious for us!&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, we dragged ourselves out of bed early...to catch a limo to Napa Valley! That's right, a limo. One of my coworkers had decided to gather a group of people to all pitch in on a limo together. We first went to a winery that specialized in sparkling wines. I'm not usually a huge fan, but they had a few tasty ones. Next we went to V. Sattui, which also has a deli inside. I LOVE their wines. Joe, Christy and I shared 2 different tastings, so that we each got a sip of almost every wine they have. The guy serving us was really nice, and we even convinced him to let us try the Vin Santo that they stock. Which we rewarded him by buying a bottle each of, and then a few other kinds as well. We got sandwiches and sat outside on a picnic table and ate lunch with everyone else. It was so packed there, I was a little annoyed at first, but it was really fun to sit outside with everyone.&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to one more, one of the "big name" wineries. The kind you can find in a liquor store in Wisconsin.&lt;br /&gt;Bleh. There was not a single one of their wines that I liked--and the tasting was outrageously expensive. The grounds of the vineyard, though, are stunning. It you can see the mountains all around. I hear that their tours are actually quite good, but you have to make a reservation ahead of time. I kind of wished we would have planned a little better, but other people didn't want to "lock" us in to a schedule. Oh well. Next time.&lt;br /&gt;On the way home, while cracking open bottle after bottle in the limo (hey, one bottle split among 12 people does not go far. You get about a third of a glass each), everyone talked the 3 of us into going to a party (that another one of my coworkers was throwing) in the hills of Oakland. I had already told her no, we wouldn't be attending, because we will have no way to get home from there.&lt;br /&gt;Yet somehow (the copious amounts of wine perhaps?) we were convinced to go.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm very glad we did. I had SO much fun. Totally worth the chaos that came later. There were a lot of people there I knew, I hung out with coworkers that I don't get to talk to much, Christy and Joe had fun, there was a turkey burger cook-off, a trivia contest and a dalmation who kept licking the cheese and crackers in my hand. People played music in the garage for a while. The view from their backyard is STUNNING. You can see all of Oakland. When I say they are in the hills, I mean they're halfway up a mountain.&lt;br /&gt;We tried calling a cab. A lot of us did, because a lot of us needed to get home. We called over and over, but this is Oakland, and apparently the rules are not the same. ONE cab came. For 10 people. We sent off the first four and waited for more. No more came. Eventually we sent 3 more people off with one of my friends, since they were only going to the other side of Oakland.&lt;br /&gt;We waited. I lost Christy for a while and freaked out. I drank more sangria.&lt;br /&gt;Joe and I were prepared to crash on the couch there, but Kelly (who was not with us) was going to be getting back to Christy's house soon, so Christy was (understandably) determined to get back to her. In retrospect, we should have crammed Christy into the first cab that arrived, then Joe and I would have just stayed. And actually, Joe had decided that he was not going to sleep on a couch but rather, out on their lawn so he could watch the sun rise over Oakland. I would have liked to see how long he lasted.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, one of my work friends (who had not been drinking) volunteered to drive us all the way back to SF. He's a sweetie.&lt;br /&gt;I must have drank more than I thought (Their sangria was delicious!!) because the next morning I was moving&lt;br /&gt;verrrrrrrrry.&lt;br /&gt;verrrrrrrry.&lt;br /&gt;sloooooooooooooooowly.&lt;br /&gt;I was still better than Joe who didn't move at ALL until, oh, noonish.&lt;br /&gt;By the time we got going, we just managed to make it to Golden Gate Park to meet everyone at the Japanese Tea Garden, which was a relaxing way to spend the day. Then we went back to Christy's for a BBQ. Her roommates went all out. We had chicken, beef, guacamole, burgers, homemade chicken nuggets...and sangria. Which I'm sure was delicious, though I couldn't make myself have any.&lt;br /&gt;We dragged ourselves home--we were the first ones to leave. Usually really packed weekends annoy me. I just want to relax. But I had so much fun this weekend, that I was actually excited to go into work on Monday. I should party with my coworkers more often!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-3334721546829236601?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3334721546829236601/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=3334721546829236601&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3334721546829236601'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3334721546829236601'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/party-like-its-1999.html' title='Party like it&apos;s 1999'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-4662131154654581330</id><published>2007-08-08T15:16:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-08T15:18:04.526-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Journals</title><content type='html'>Last week I bought a new journal. This may not seem like a hugely momentous occasion, but you see, I haven't had a journal in a really long time. The last journal I had was unlined, and that bothered me more than I would admit. I refused to get a new one until this one was filled.&lt;br /&gt;The one before that was cheap and the pages kept falling out.&lt;br /&gt;I got out of the habit of carrying one around with me. Sometimes I would make journal entries in my writing notebook, but it's been harder to keep track of things in that mess lately.&lt;br /&gt;So I finally bought perfect new one (screw those empty pages on the last one. They mock me), soft and pretty, covered in green flowered fabric with a leather tie to close it.&lt;br /&gt;My freshman year of college, I started a brand-new journal on the first day I arrived there, and finished the last page the night before I left. I love having that account of my first year away from home, and I can tell you what I did almost every single weekend that year by referring to it. I wish I had more of that for my time in New York and now San Francisco.&lt;br /&gt;One of the biggest reasons I decided to start journaling again was because of all the people I'm meeting. I have a huge volume of people moving through my life, and I'm sure I won't remember a lot of them in a few years. Which is sad because they're &lt;em&gt;interesting&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;I think of this as refilling the well. If I write about people I've met, and about my dreams--which are intense--I will always have something to write about when I sit down. It's a good feeling.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-4662131154654581330?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4662131154654581330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=4662131154654581330&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4662131154654581330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4662131154654581330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/journals.html' title='Journals'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-2840790752086565337</id><published>2007-08-01T12:50:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T13:12:23.668-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death by chemicals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>More on the Great Yogurt Search</title><content type='html'>I think I've found my yogurt. Safeway carries a store brand called "O Organics" which appear to be sort of organics for the masses. I don't know how sustainable or truly organic they are, but every food I've had of this brand I've really liked.&lt;br /&gt;I like the yogurt especially because it is fairly low-fat and low-cal, but there is no aspartame. In addition, there is no high fructose corn syrup in it. Instead, it's sweetened with evaporated cane juice. Why is high fructose corn syrup bad? Well, there are debates. From a SF Chronicle article a few years ago:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The theory goes like this: The body processes the fructose in high fructose corn syrup differently than it does old-fashioned cane or beet sugar, which in turn alters the way metabolic-regulating hormones function. It also forces the liver to kick more fat out into the bloodstream.&lt;br /&gt;The end result is that our bodies are essentially tricked into wanting to eat more and at the same time, we are storing more fat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the &lt;a href="http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/chronicle/archive/2004/02/18/FDGS24VKMH1.DTL"&gt;article from the San Francisco Chronicle about corn syrup&lt;/a&gt;. The wikipedia entry goes into more detail, but is a little harder to translate. Basically, even today, we still don't really know if this is worse for our body than regular sugar. A lot of people think it's like the aspartame issue: that it's a lot of hype. Other people think this could be at the root of the obesity epidemic. Corn Syrup is in EVERYTHING now.&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to be distrustful of extra chemicals in general. There is nothing in this yogurt that I can't pronounce, and that can't be a bad thing.&lt;br /&gt;There are other organic yogurts, but they tend to be very expensive. This is a good happy-medium. It costs more than Dannon but less than Stoneybrook farms. Plus, many of the other organic yogurts only have full-fat versions.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately this brand is only available at Safeway, which I think is only on the west coast. But check some labels. I'm sure they're not the only ones out there.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-2840790752086565337?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2840790752086565337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=2840790752086565337&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2840790752086565337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2840790752086565337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/more-on-great-yogurt-search.html' title='More on the Great Yogurt Search'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-8625184874568276281</id><published>2007-07-27T18:47:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-27T18:55:26.529-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='twitching'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Food</title><content type='html'>Apparently I do the same thing with cherry tomatoes as I do with sugar snap peas and chocolate chips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This sunday is the garlic festival. I do NOT do the same thing with garlic. I have a strange relationship with garlic, rather love-hate. Also, it is apparently going to be like a hundred degrees there, which will not do wonders for the smell, I'm sure. Perhaps the stench will revive me when I faint. I may even be persuaded to try garlic ice cream afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FYI: People who do not like bacon annoy me. I mean, it's BACON. What's not to like? If you're morally opposed to it because you're a vegetarian, that's fine, as long as you still acknowledge that it's the greatest smell in the world, and that if you were going to break your vegetarianism for anything, it would totally be bacon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-8625184874568276281?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8625184874568276281/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=8625184874568276281&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/8625184874568276281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/8625184874568276281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/food.html' title='Food'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-4616272865191910844</id><published>2007-07-25T13:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-25T13:53:34.603-04:00</updated><title type='text'>SP 4 Eva</title><content type='html'>Smashing Pumpkins was soooo fun! Who needs James Iha? Not me! You just need Billy Corgan. The rest of the band just needs to learn the notes.&lt;br /&gt;Halfway through, the rest of the band left anyways, and Billy played by himself with an acoustic guitar. Then they came back for a glorious finale.&lt;br /&gt;They played most of my favorite songs, and a lot of new stuff. It was perfect. The Fillmore is an awesome place to see him--it's very small.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, yes, fine. I cried during "Bullet with Butterfly Wings." Just a little. I didn't even notice until the song was over. Have you ever had a song change your life? I was fourteen, and I thought, WHERE did he get that voice, and HOW exactly does he know what my rage feels like?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-4616272865191910844?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4616272865191910844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=4616272865191910844&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4616272865191910844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4616272865191910844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/sp-4-eva.html' title='SP 4 Eva'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-2138048408911438049</id><published>2007-07-24T19:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T19:57:48.979-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Billy Corgan</title><content type='html'>I'm going to the Smashing Pumpkins concert tonight, too-ooonight!&lt;br /&gt;I must be getting old because I'm annoyed that it won't start until 9pm (which means SP won't finish until well after midnight). I have get up for work at 6am people!&lt;br /&gt;Also, I have brought earplugs with me. Joe tells me that this really is pretty acceptable and not that uncool. It is, in fact, MORE uncool to stand there with your fingers in your ears, scowling at the band because they suddenly got louder.&lt;br /&gt;Should be a fairly tame concert, considering. SF is a chill place, and the Fillmore is not a venue that inspires one to mosh or anything like that. Plus, I can't imagine that anyone there will be any younger than, oh, me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-2138048408911438049?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2138048408911438049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=2138048408911438049&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2138048408911438049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2138048408911438049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/billy-corgan.html' title='Billy Corgan'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-4927357076700479657</id><published>2007-07-24T15:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T15:14:17.623-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death by chemicals'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Fake Sugar</title><content type='html'>There is a new, but controversial and arguable, study out that shows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"People who drank one or more diet sodas each day developed the same risks for heart disease as those who downed sugary regular soda...&lt;br /&gt;It could be, they suggest, that even no-calorie sweet drinks increase the craving for more sweets, and that people who indulge in sodas probably have less healthy diets overall."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My money is on the "increased craving for sweets" thing. I try to avoid fake sweeteners like aspartame when I can. I think it keeps us all addicted to sugar. I don't drink any kind of soda, but it drives me nuts that I can't find a low-calorie yogurt that isn't full of fake sweetener. I really don't need it to taste THAT sweet.&lt;br /&gt;To read the full article about the study, click &lt;a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/sns-ap-diet-soda-heart-risks,0,5751543.story"&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;There is probably fake sugar in more things than I think, like the "light" Swenson's ice cream I like so much. I'd better watch out for that. I'd really just rather eat the real thing, but less of it.&lt;br /&gt;That's why I only eat dark chocolate :) Why muck it up with milk and sugar?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-4927357076700479657?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4927357076700479657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=4927357076700479657&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4927357076700479657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4927357076700479657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/fake-sugar.html' title='Fake Sugar'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1001370438154319437</id><published>2007-07-19T18:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-19T18:15:39.314-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Twitchy Issues</title><content type='html'>Does it make anyone else INTENSELY uncomfortable when people walk next to you on the street?&lt;br /&gt;Like when you're walking down the street and a stranger comes out of Starbucks just as you're walking by and go the same direction as you.&lt;br /&gt;Then you wait at a stoplight together.&lt;br /&gt;Then you walk down the next block side by side. You try to slow down to let them get ahead of you, but that doesn't really seem to work because maybe they're doing the same thing at the exact same time. And you can't go any slower because man, you're already late for work.&lt;br /&gt;So you try to walk faster, but you have short legs and can only go so fast and as soon as you get a little bit ahead of them you reach the next stoplight which has just turned red so you're even again. And that was your last burst of speed because it's 8:03 am and you haven't had any coffee yet.&lt;br /&gt;So you try to walk as close to the buildings as possible, wishing they would move farther towards the curb, but they can't because this is Oakland and there are homeless people and free newspaper stands everywhere and in this manner you will walk down an entire stretch of deserted street with just one other person, casting suspicious looks their way.&lt;br /&gt;I hate my commute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1001370438154319437?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1001370438154319437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1001370438154319437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1001370438154319437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1001370438154319437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/twitchy-issues.html' title='Twitchy Issues'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1603419521468822594</id><published>2007-07-17T15:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T15:11:45.128-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Food Stuff</title><content type='html'>FYI: The Boy has started posting to &lt;a href="http://www.forkandpen.com/"&gt;his food blog, Fork and Pen&lt;/a&gt;, fairly regularly again. Check there for more of our adventures!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1603419521468822594?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1603419521468822594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1603419521468822594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1603419521468822594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1603419521468822594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/food-stuff.html' title='Food Stuff'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-4031540145051236153</id><published>2007-07-17T14:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-17T14:48:49.319-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Laptop</title><content type='html'>I bought a new laptop this weekend! My old one died two weeks ago. I mean, straight-up died. I plug it in, push power on, and nothing happens.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I had plenty of warning as my hard drive had been making pathetic clicking noises for a few months now. I had everything backed up already, except possibly a few days of writing. Which probably weren't very good anyways, since I'd been cranking through it for my Novel in 90 wordcounts.&lt;br /&gt;By the way, Novel in 90, not really for me. It was good in the beginning, and then I just felt like I was forcing myself to write stuff I wasn't ready for. It was turning out crummy. This is the same reason I had no fun doing NaNoWriMo. Writing fast is a waste of time, in my opinion. I'd rather write well. Of course, I haven't been doing much of that lately either.&lt;br /&gt;I've never been well served by tracking my words. I used to do BIC (butt in chair) count instead. If I could just sit in front of my computer or notebook for an hour a day, I would do much better. Maybe I should start my own BIC club.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, the computer. It's a Dell, is about 10 times faster than my old IBM thinkpad, and is only 4.3 pounds! Woot. It should be here next week. My very first new computer.&lt;br /&gt;Also, I've officially broken the 40 pound weight barrier (for myself. Not my computer). I'd been edging closer and closer, ever so slowly, and I finally did it! I finally started tracking points again, is what happened. I've now lost 40.2 pounds. In celebration, I bought myself a pretty purple shirt from Anthropologie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-4031540145051236153?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4031540145051236153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=4031540145051236153&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4031540145051236153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4031540145051236153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/laptop.html' title='Laptop'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-6922244520013563598</id><published>2007-07-13T14:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T14:27:41.390-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passive activism'/><title type='text'>Local Love</title><content type='html'>I saw a news clip this morning that said that each human creates more carbon emissions by what they eat than they do by driving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, if you buy a fresh pineapple, realize that that pineapple had to be FLOWN from somewhere tropical to get to you, then probably trucked in to your local grocery. The same is true of all imports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what do you do? Eat local, as much as possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it's easy for me to say. I live in California. I could eat nothing but farmer's market produce year round. But even in colder climates you can do your best. Don't buy corn from the grocery store, as there's a good chance it was trucked in from Iowa, or somewhere random. Go find those kids selling it out of the back of a truck. The same goes for tomatoes and other produce. See if there is a local farmer's market anywhere. Of course, driving an hour out of your way to get produce kind of defeats the purpose, but if you plan properly, you can combine trips. This has the added bonus of supporting small farms, which are a dying breed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember, small changes help. Make a raspberry or rhubarb dessert in the summer, instead of something with lemons. Even if you buy them at the store, there's a better chance they are local.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I've always wondered about milk in Wisconsin. Does the milk we buy at the grocery store come from Wisconsin cows? If so, is it also PROCESSED in Wisconsin? That part is important. See if you can check the label and find out. You might be suprised. Same goes with cheese. There is NO REASON to buy Vermont cheese or Vermont maple syrup in Wisconsin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else is local to your area?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-6922244520013563598?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6922244520013563598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=6922244520013563598&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/6922244520013563598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/6922244520013563598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/local-love.html' title='Local Love'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-2765808781240242540</id><published>2007-07-11T19:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T19:12:20.043-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Square One</title><content type='html'>ARGH!! After not hearing back from this glorious job I desparately wanted for two weeks, I finally called them today. The person answers and says he's glad to hear from me. He's sorry He hasn't been in touch but that's what HR advised him to do. And no, they haven't filled the position yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he goes on about how difficult it has been to find someone who can do everything because there are so many different parts to this job and blah blah blah. And how you really can't know how a person will do until you work with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. This is how employment works. Everyone does it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she says they think they might try a few people out on a freelance basis. Apparently someone is coming in one day next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT?!?! You do not get a 30 day free trial!!!! Hire someone who is intelligent and ambitious and then tell everyone else NO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that they asked me, but even if they had, I couldn't come in one day a week so they could "try" me. For crying out loud! Some of us have full time jobs already.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, they didn't ask me, though he didn't seem willing to give me a definite no. But I'm going to take it that way. If they call me in the next few weeks, fine. If not, I'll call them eventually to get the "what could I have done better?" riff.&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, not only did I want that job, but I really really wanted to be done with looking. And I really really really didn't want to do this commute anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I shall console myself with Harry Potter (in IMAX 3-D!!) on Friday and the Chocolate Festival on Saturday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-2765808781240242540?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2765808781240242540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=2765808781240242540&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2765808781240242540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2765808781240242540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/back-to-square-one.html' title='Back to Square One'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-330974743395436578</id><published>2007-07-10T12:04:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-07-10T12:09:17.833-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RpOue_PFSqI/AAAAAAAAAA0/odKSnI5sIEw/s1600-h/Joe+Simpson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085600251625425570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RpOue_PFSqI/AAAAAAAAAA0/odKSnI5sIEw/s200/Joe+Simpson.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RpOuPfPFSpI/AAAAAAAAAAs/73I96TQniUI/s1600-h/Jasmine+Simpson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085599985337453202" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RpOuPfPFSpI/AAAAAAAAAAs/73I96TQniUI/s200/Jasmine+Simpson.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Look, I'm on the Simpsons!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And so is Joe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I did a better job with Joe's. It's hard to objectively make yourself into a cartoon character. Or maybe Joe just naturally looks more like a Simpsons character...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-330974743395436578?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/330974743395436578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=330974743395436578&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/330974743395436578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/330974743395436578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/07/look-im-on-simpsons-and-so-is-joe-i.html' title=''/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RpOue_PFSqI/AAAAAAAAAA0/odKSnI5sIEw/s72-c/Joe+Simpson.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-3034704961777387588</id><published>2007-06-28T18:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-28T18:24:47.245-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whining'/><title type='text'>I need a bubble bath</title><content type='html'>My body keeps finding new and increasingly fun ways to express just how much I stress it out.&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago I developed hives while I was unemployed. I was afraid I had some disease.&lt;br /&gt;My back, of course, goes out when it gets really bad. My skin freaks out, which is not so unusual, and is the only reason that I'm pretty sure that that is what is going on with me now. All of a sudden I have zits. Often I develop an eye twitch, which will linger for weeks.&lt;br /&gt;I chew my fingernails until they bleed, which you could argue is voluntary. I get funky stomach problems, which is also common.&lt;br /&gt;The latest fun one is that my scalp hurts. Not itches, HURTS. Like I sunburned it. Except I didn't, and this had been going on for days. If I do go to scratch it, I flinch away like I just scratched over a scab. It is possible that I'm allergic to something, or that it's dandruff, but considering my other stress-related symptoms, I'm betting that's it.&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing is that I rarely stress over big things. I only have percieved stress.&lt;br /&gt;Someone going in the hospital? Moving? Might make me crazed, but I don't fall apart over it. I think it is because these things have goals, actions. A start and a stop point.&lt;br /&gt;Me worrying about hearing back about a job interview? Has no end and no outlet. There's nothing I can do. Not a single. Thing. Except agonize. Worry. Internalize it all to mean that I'm worthless. Which is why this kind of stress is worse for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-3034704961777387588?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3034704961777387588/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=3034704961777387588&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3034704961777387588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3034704961777387588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-need-bubble-bath.html' title='I need a bubble bath'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-5807260617260238481</id><published>2007-06-25T14:18:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T14:22:03.815-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>I just wanna go to Hawaii</title><content type='html'>I read a study that says 45% of professionals don't use all of their vacation days.&lt;br /&gt;Who are these people?!?!&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that I have zero sick days left and that I'm actually in the NEGATIVE numbers on my vacation days. And it's only June.&lt;br /&gt;I think too many people want to feel like they're indisposable at work. Like if they take two days off the whole place will fall apart without their brilliant insights and hard work. I have no such illusions.&lt;br /&gt;I wonder how my boss feels about unpaid vacation days?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-5807260617260238481?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5807260617260238481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=5807260617260238481&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/5807260617260238481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/5807260617260238481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-just-wanna-go-to-hawaii.html' title='I just wanna go to Hawaii'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1862106489134248431</id><published>2007-05-31T12:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-31T12:34:19.730-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whining'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big life choices'/><title type='text'>Freaking out a bit</title><content type='html'>I'm having the what-to-do-with-my-life panicks. This has happened once or twice a year since college.&lt;br /&gt;I mean, I'm generally unsure of what I want to do and mildly miserable in whatever job I have, but during the panicks, I do things like quite jobs on the spot and threaten to move home to Wisconsin or start researching business schools.&lt;br /&gt;Or grab scissors and start cutting my own hair. The haircuts I get now are WAY too expensive to start doing stuff like that again, though. Maybe I'll get a tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;This is not suprising, considering WisCon and all (where I actually get to do something I love for a few days), but not terribly convenient. I'm about to start novel_in_90 which I was actually very excited for. And that IS something I want to do with my life. I don't have time for day job/career changes right now.&lt;br /&gt;It's just that I've been thinking about going to grad school for an MFA in writing (or an MA in literature with an emphasis in Creative Writing, which sounds brilliant to me because the two do not exist in a vacuum, but apparently an MA is less respected when looking for Creative writing jobs? According to some people. As though any of those jobs really exist. Isn't that like worrying about what ogres like to eat for dinner? If the question arises, knowing the answer will undoubtably serve you well, but the chances...anyways, I would research this).&lt;br /&gt;I have no illusions about what an MFA would do for me. It will not land me a book deal. I will probably not get a me a job. I will just be doing something I love for 2 years. The fear, though, is that once I get out, I will be even LESS employable than I am now. I'm not especially knowledgable about the video stuff I do now, and after 2 years I'll probably be too rusty to jump back in (plus, I will care even less).&lt;br /&gt;But I want to consider carefully before I make any more stupid life choices. I can't say I regret anything I've done in my life yet, but I do think it's time for a bit of a plan. Also, I applied to 4 MFA programs once before (er, the top 4 in the country, which I now believe is meaningless, plus I was straight out of college) and was rejected by all 4. Which I do think is a blessing, since now there is no way I would want to go to any of those (except maybe that one in Austin that is free).&lt;br /&gt;In the end, I think it would be worth it for those 2 years. And at least it's a chance. Where I'm going now is NOWHERE.&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I should just quit and go work at a coffeeshop, since I always talk about how I want to open a coffeeshop one day.  Which is, of course, one of the hardest businesses to keep afloat and make money at. Why find an underserved niche and fill it, when I can do what everyone else tries to do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1862106489134248431?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1862106489134248431/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1862106489134248431&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1862106489134248431'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1862106489134248431'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/freaking-out-bit.html' title='Freaking out a bit'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-7665418844761761213</id><published>2007-05-30T15:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-30T15:28:51.042-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tech Stuff</title><content type='html'>This just looks too cool: &lt;a href="http://www.popularmechanics.com/technology/industry/4217348.html"&gt;http://www.popularmechanics.com/technology/industry/4217348.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine that is your kitchen table. You could read from it while you ate your cereal, control the tv. Design a webpage or two.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-7665418844761761213?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7665418844761761213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=7665418844761761213&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7665418844761761213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7665418844761761213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/tech-stuff.html' title='Tech Stuff'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-2458458502677472760</id><published>2007-05-29T14:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T14:10:50.818-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the Rat Race</title><content type='html'>Some chucklehead on the other side of my cubicle wall is going through every single ringtone on their cell phone, obviously trying to decide which one to use next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some things should be done in the privacy of your own home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-2458458502677472760?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2458458502677472760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=2458458502677472760&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2458458502677472760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2458458502677472760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/back-to-rat-race.html' title='Back to the Rat Race'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-3897167023309632459</id><published>2007-05-27T13:49:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T13:55:19.192-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Parties with the Dorks</title><content type='html'>Yesterday evening was the Tiptree Auction, one of my favorite events. It always gets a little out of control, and indeed, Elizabeth Bear (wearing a green corset) offered to be one of the Lovely Ladies showing off merchandise, and I, at some point in the evening, three a dollar into Sharyn November's skirt to buy a Faery Handbag for Kelly Link. I do love these people.&lt;br /&gt;I got bored more quickly than usual, however. I think last year was so big, so over the top, that this year everyone is taking a collective breath (if they showed up at all--there aren't nearly as many guest of honor alumni this year as there normally is). I think there weren't that many exciting things in the pot, and fewer people to bid them up to crazy amounts.&lt;br /&gt;So we bailed early and went to the haiku earrings party. My Haiku was titled "The Clockwork Fairy":&lt;br /&gt;Music Winding Down&lt;br /&gt;Her Battery Induced Haze&lt;br /&gt;Punk Pierced Silver Arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for this I was given a pair of earrings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoops, time to go to the next panel. My NEXT post will be about the parties, I promise. It's good stuff...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-3897167023309632459?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3897167023309632459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=3897167023309632459&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3897167023309632459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3897167023309632459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/parties-with-dorks.html' title='Parties with the Dorks'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-4620570079377981148</id><published>2007-05-26T15:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-26T15:23:01.818-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Panel</title><content type='html'>My panel went SO well! I'll do a full on write up about it later, I promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am starting to understand the reason for the smell. When you don't spend your lunch and dinner hours alone with a sandwich, you run out of time to shower. However, if one knows that one acquires an overwhelming odor after a day or two, MAKE time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roomies are great. I LOVE being a heavy sleeper. I didn't even notice one of them coming in at 2 a.m.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to try to hit the art show and dealer's room (I specifically brought money for books this year) at dinner time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-4620570079377981148?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4620570079377981148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=4620570079377981148&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4620570079377981148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/4620570079377981148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/my-panel.html' title='My Panel'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-5804672069056051179</id><published>2007-05-25T21:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-25T21:31:12.669-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dispatches from a Scifi Convention Continue</title><content type='html'>NrD report #234ohbn:&lt;br /&gt;The smell has not improved, though the natives have become more friendly. Chocolate is abundant, though water seems in short supply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awkwardness abounds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have, however, now found all my friends. Two of my roommates are here for the first time, and accompany me to most things, which can be nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My workshop was FANTASTIC. I got so many great ideas and encouragement. After discussing with other people afterwards, who also had good experiences, I still realized that I am amazingly confident about my writing. Apparently other people stress about what people will think about their story. I assume people will like it overall, other than problems A, B, and C. And then they will tell me I am a fantastic writer, and show great promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I conceited? Am I pumped up by false pretenses? Does it even matter?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only time will tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find myself taking on the tone of a wise-old convention goer around my roommates. Must stop that. I imagine if it is not annoying yet, it will be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many good panels coming up! I truly have not had this much trouble deciding what to do in the past. I'm wishing I had a time-travel device like Hermione does in the third Harry Potter book, so I can attend more than one class at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my palm read and my numerology done. My number is 3, which means I'm an artist (yay!) and I should focus on the joy of living. My life line is of an average length, but is especially deep and strong, which means I live with passion. My career path has diverged or will diverge soon (let's hope so!). I am an open-hearted person (not sure about that one).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-5804672069056051179?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5804672069056051179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=5804672069056051179&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/5804672069056051179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/5804672069056051179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/dispatches-from-scifi-convention.html' title='Dispatches from a Scifi Convention Continue'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-2247653558732901854</id><published>2007-05-24T22:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T22:22:20.085-04:00</updated><title type='text'>NRD Report # w4l5</title><content type='html'>First day at my third WisCon. I had assumed after all this time, and after knowing a few people here finally, my crushing socially anxiety would become less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a fool I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the afternoon bummed I my parents had to leave early, bummed my one friend who I actually had a cell phone number for wasn't (and still hasn't) calling me back, and eventually bummed I hadn't called my cousins earlier because they were both about to leave town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I worked out, took a shower, wrote a bit. I finally got to do some activities, and met someone I knew there. They were doing something else afterwards however, so I went to the first reading alone. Again, I met someone I knew, and even went out to dinner with a group of people, which was really nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as soon as we got back to the hotel, they all kind of...disappeared. The lobby has cleared out. I think everyone is either out to a bar or in bed (at 9pm! It's only 7pm on the west coast!). Which is fine, because I will get very little sleep from here on in. But I wish I could find my original friends again, or go to a bar with someone. But now there is no one. I feel like a girl without a date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My roommates should arrive in an hour or two, though, so that is an event to look forward to. I will meet them, and hopefully hang out with them tonight, or go to bed at the same time if they're tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-2247653558732901854?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2247653558732901854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=2247653558732901854&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2247653558732901854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2247653558732901854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/nrd-report-w4l5.html' title='NRD Report # w4l5'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-7028860168090015210</id><published>2007-05-21T15:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T15:04:52.478-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>War and Peas</title><content type='html'>I eat sugar-snap peas the same way I eat chocolate chips.&lt;br /&gt;I think, I'll just have one or two, just for the taste. I'm not really hungry. Then, well, I'll grab a handful. Then before I know it I'm sneaking them left and right, not paying attention to what I'm eating and the entire bag is gone.&lt;br /&gt;Why can't I be like that with ALL veggies?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-7028860168090015210?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7028860168090015210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=7028860168090015210&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7028860168090015210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7028860168090015210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/war-and-peas.html' title='War and Peas'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-2469945477261397238</id><published>2007-05-16T11:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T11:58:28.155-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='whining'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feeling sorry for myself'/><title type='text'>Whine, cry.</title><content type='html'>I'm wanting to be a big baby right now :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But my back huuuuuuurts! I couldn't even walk upright yesterday. It hasn't gone out on me (yet. Cross your fingers.) but I'm all kinked up like an old man. Painkillers do nothing, and taking my "last resort" drugs during the first hour of my work day is a bad idea. I can't go to la-la land until after lunch. At least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a bit stressed out lately, with job stuff and going to WisCon and missed hair appointments and whatnot. That certainly doesn't help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what happens when you lose weight and exercise, folks. Let that be a lesson to you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-2469945477261397238?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2469945477261397238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=2469945477261397238&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2469945477261397238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/2469945477261397238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/whine-cry.html' title='Whine, cry.'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-723172494841860015</id><published>2007-05-15T12:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-15T12:56:54.989-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Before I Forget</title><content type='html'>Apparently this pet food contamination thing is not slowing down, and it's definitely not over. In fact, more foods are being added to the FDA "black" list every day. It's becoming more and more widespread.&lt;br /&gt;Joe's friend's cat is probably going to die, and he was feeding her a really high-quality brand of food.&lt;br /&gt;So without further ado, here is the website with lists of food to avoid and other information:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.fda.gov/oc/opacom/hottopics/petfood.html"&gt;http://www.fda.gov/oc/opacom/hottopics/petfood.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please read and be really careful!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-723172494841860015?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/723172494841860015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=723172494841860015&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/723172494841860015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/723172494841860015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/before-i-forget.html' title='Before I Forget'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-8701040896053009606</id><published>2007-05-10T13:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-10T13:28:31.371-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a Slacker</title><content type='html'>Man, I've really been slacking on the blog here, but Blogger has been giving me troubles lately.&lt;br /&gt;Mostly, I'm just really excited to go to WisCon! I get in Wed, May 23 at 1:40pm (are you listening parents?) and I leave Monday at 4:05pm.&lt;br /&gt;I'm on a panel this year! I'm going to talk about books that take place underground and their significance in literature. I've always been a little obsessed with any kind of secret place, and places underground seem like the ultimate secret. I'm nervous, but it will be fun. One of my friends is even on the panel with me. This will be the first time I go to WisCon where I already know people.&lt;br /&gt;While there, we should check out &lt;a href="http://www.mkeonline.com/story.asp?id=277911"&gt;Dr. Evermore's Sculptures&lt;/a&gt;. It's not that far from Baraboo, which I think is not far from where we're staying Wed. night. It looks pretty neat, and I've always wanted to go.&lt;br /&gt;In other news, we finally got to do a major trip to Target with Joe's friend's truck. Now we have a dresser, another bookshelf, a grill and I have a desk on the back porch! The dresser is an absolute piece of crap. It makes me SO mad. I would mind having a piece of crap dresser if it were CHEAP, but it's not. I'm mad because I (not just my dad, who builds beautiful furniture, but ME) could manage to build a better dresser for half the price if I only had the tools. And the space. And materials. But I'm not yet ready to invest in such things, so I'll do my best with this.&lt;br /&gt;Which reminds me, I need to pick up some wood glue. Grr.&lt;br /&gt;The only good thing I can say about it is that at least it's real wood, not "particle-filled pressed fiberboard" like IKEA furniture is. Ugh. I hate Ikea.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-8701040896053009606?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8701040896053009606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=8701040896053009606&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/8701040896053009606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/8701040896053009606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/im-slacker.html' title='I&apos;m a Slacker'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-7380700289264302175</id><published>2007-05-04T14:10:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T14:45:55.734-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grandma'/><title type='text'>Grandma Garnet</title><content type='html'>Just under 2 weeks ago, I was talking to my mom and asked how my grandma was doing. She's been getting sicker and sicker for years now, and had recently gone into the nursing home.&lt;br /&gt;"She has an ear infection now," my mom said.&lt;br /&gt;Sheesh! I thought, how much more can that poor woman take.&lt;br /&gt;I guess that was it.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning my mom called. I couldn't answer because I was at work, but I had a pretty good idea of why she was calling. People talk about the dreaded "middle of the night" call, when they know something is wrong. I get the middle of the day call. My mom knows I can't answer, so there are only a few reasons she would call.&lt;br /&gt;When my grandpa died last year, I knew something was wrong when my mom called twice in a row. She never does that either.&lt;br /&gt;So I finally called her back and found out that my Grandma Garnet, my dad's mom, died last Monday morning at the nursing home. Nobody was especially shocked, and I think a few of us were even relieved. At this point, she was just suffering. She hadn't smiled in a long time, and being so ill, and so afraid of being ill, for that long strips a person of their personality.&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't able to go to the funeral. It's a pretty wretched trek from the west coast, and I'd rather go for a whole week this summer when I can spend more time with my grandpa and parents.&lt;br /&gt;What do I remember about my grandma?&lt;br /&gt;My two earliest significant memories of her are...weird.&lt;br /&gt;First, I remember being at church with her. We went to the Nazarene Church most Sundays with my grandparents (while my parents snoozed at home). I remember one Sunday the pastor mentioned something in his sermon about the evils of alchohol. Afterwards, grandma asked me if my dad still drank beer.&lt;br /&gt;"Sure," I said. "He drinks beer all the time!" I was probably 8 or 9. Or even younger.&lt;br /&gt;"We're going to have to pray for him then," she told me.&lt;br /&gt;I went home and told my mom that we were going to pray for dad for drinking beer.&lt;br /&gt;Much eyerolling followed.&lt;br /&gt;My second memory was that she was the first person who ever told me what being "gay" meant. I saw some literature in her mail about it, and asked her what that meant. She told me, though I can't remember exactly how. I also don't remember getting any connotation of it, negative or otherwise from her. Though she certainly didn't bother to tell me that her oldest son was gay. Also, I suspect that the literature I saw (knowing the kind of people they rolled with) was not at all pro-gay material.&lt;br /&gt;I could go on about my young memories of her, but they're all of a similar angle. Weird, right? How did I wind up so liberal?*** Maybe I'll post more later, actually. They are rather fascinating.&lt;br /&gt;My grandma and grandpa were married for 61 years. That is beyond amazing. My grandma was the oldest of 9 kids. She was in the army (she drove a jeep!). She got her teacher's degree. All in all, her life was pretty full, and pretty interesting. I think it is partly because of her that I learned to see the world in terms of stories to be told.&lt;br /&gt;I'm glad she was in my life, and she will be missed.&lt;br /&gt;***My mom, that's how.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-7380700289264302175?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7380700289264302175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=7380700289264302175&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7380700289264302175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7380700289264302175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/grandma-garnet.html' title='Grandma Garnet'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-7429570098103795835</id><published>2007-05-02T12:54:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-05-02T12:57:44.281-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='feeling sorry for myself'/><title type='text'>Ow, my pancreas</title><content type='html'>The night before last, allergies decided to sucker-punch me in the middle of the night. I spent yesterday in a haze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today it rained, so everyone keeps saying I should be feeling better. Then why do I feel like I'm still curled into a ball on the floor, while my allergies kick me in the ribs and laugh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My whole body hurts. If I still feel like this tomorrow, I am totally staying home and watching Disney movies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I wish someone would go get me some hot chocolate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-7429570098103795835?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7429570098103795835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=7429570098103795835&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7429570098103795835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7429570098103795835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/05/ow-my-pancreas.html' title='Ow, my pancreas'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-6051651442832141419</id><published>2007-04-17T17:12:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-17T17:27:46.725-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movies'/><title type='text'>Grindhouse Love</title><content type='html'>Grindhouse is a double feature of horror movies. The first is a zombie movie called "Planet Terror" directed by Robert Rodriguez. Actually, it's more of an homage to classic zombie movies, and makes fun of the grossness and campiness. He made it with an old-school scratched up look, including (or not including?) a missing reel. I looooooove all things zombie, and I had no idea what this movie was going to be. So I was pleasantly suprised. Pretty standard zombie plot, but very funny and very well-done.&lt;br /&gt;The ooziness gets pretty vile (props to my mom for sitting through the whole thing, even if she closed her eyes a few times). The main character (Rose McGowen) has her leg torn off by zombies and later replaces it with a machine gun. That's right! How does she shoot it? Don't know, don't care! But at one point she shoots straight into the ground, launching herself in the air and lands in a spin kick that kills all the army guys around her!&lt;br /&gt;I almost cried with joy. My life had no meaning until now.&lt;br /&gt;It may even be better than Bruce Campbell replacing his arm with a chainsaw in the Evil Dead movies, but it's proabably blasphemous for me to suggest so. And anyways, Evil Dead is epic, so Planet Terror can't really compare.&lt;br /&gt;Between and before the two movies are fake trailers that were pretty funny. We heard somewhere that "Machete" is supposed to actually be made into a movie soon.&lt;br /&gt;The beginning of the second movie "Death Proof" drags a bit. It's easier to bear if you know what Quentin Tarantino's movies are like. He does this often, and the payoff is always worth it. This one is more of a psycho thriller, with Kurt Russell playing the part of Kurt Russell--er, I mean, the psycho killer Mike the Stuntman. When he messes with the wrong girls (Zoe Bell--the stuntwoman for Xena as their perky leader) he turns into a blathering baby. Awesome, awesome ending. I'll ruin it for you. They beat the hell out of him. With their car. And a metal pipe. And their fists.&lt;br /&gt;Greatest three and a half hours I have EVER spent in a movie theater. One of the best movies I've seen lately--but definitely not for everyone. For horror lovers only (though again, my parents managed to be at least entertained by it--unlike the middle-aged couple next to me in the movie theater. They left after 20 minutes!).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-6051651442832141419?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6051651442832141419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=6051651442832141419&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/6051651442832141419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/6051651442832141419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/04/grindhouse-love.html' title='Grindhouse Love'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-7200410767486006294</id><published>2007-04-13T19:56:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-13T19:56:45.642-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Woot</title><content type='html'>We're going to see Grindhouse tonight and...5 days 'til Vegas!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-7200410767486006294?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7200410767486006294/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=7200410767486006294&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7200410767486006294'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7200410767486006294'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/04/woot.html' title='Woot'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-441940185956452638</id><published>2007-04-03T15:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-04-03T15:33:46.126-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Serious Meat</title><content type='html'>Because of the intense overtime Joe and his coworkers have been putting in, they decided to treat themselves (and their significant others) to a good steak dinner. Courtesy of the company.&lt;br /&gt;The steak house we went to was one of those old school places, with brown leather chairs and carpeting and waiters in suit jackets. The special of the day was Antelope, sliced thin. Mmm, jumpy meat. So who orders it? Joe, of course.&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, a few minutes after we ordered, the waiter came back and said the kitchen was out of antelope. Boo. Their substitute was venison. I'm sure it was delicious, but not nearly as exciting, so he just went ahead and got a regular old porterhouse steak instead.&lt;br /&gt;I ordered the filet mignon rossini, which is filet mignon with a slab of foie gras on top. It hurt me to order something that expensive, even when someone else was paying! Once it came, though, it was totally worth it. Even if I was paying for it. It was possibly the best thing that anyone ordered, and Joe kept trying to steal more and more bites off my plate. Wow.&lt;br /&gt;We also shared 2 bottles of wine (between six of us). A very nice treat, though even a dinner like this does not make up for the RIDICULOUS number of hours Joe has been putting in. His boss called at 8 a.m. this Saturday! Not cool!&lt;br /&gt;Today is the first day of Passover. Joe and I are going to host a seder and Christy is coming to share. I wish Luke and Aliza were here--that would be perfect--but they flew to Vegas to spend Passover with her grandma and parents. So we will have a small, low-key affair this time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-441940185956452638?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/441940185956452638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=441940185956452638&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/441940185956452638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/441940185956452638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/04/some-serious-meat.html' title='Some Serious Meat'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-5727031625555804003</id><published>2007-03-29T18:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-29T18:32:42.032-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun stuff'/><title type='text'>Mustang Sally</title><content type='html'>I finally got up the guts to start asking around about the possibility of transferring to a different department. I was so nervous before talking to the first guy, I felt like I was trying to ask him out on a date! Eventually, I talked to the manager of that department, and he said yes, it was possible, but only when a position actually opens up.&lt;br /&gt;So now I wait. Meh. I want instant gratification! I was so brave!&lt;br /&gt;I still need to let my current manager know I'd like to move. I hope that doesn't make me a traitor.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, I will still try to find a new outside job. It's just that searching for a job is a really special kind of hell. I was sort of hoping to just transfer here. I mean, my 401k is here, and who wants to do all the paperwork of rolling it over? Not me.&lt;br /&gt;Of course, not having this commute would be nice. We'll just see.&lt;br /&gt;In other news, my brother and his girlfriend rented a red Mustang convertible yesterday. They picked me up and we drove across the bridge (it was cool--and cold!) and then we spent some time hiking around on the other side of the bay around cool old abandoned army bunkers. Then we drove to San Rafel (after putting the top up) for dinner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-5727031625555804003?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5727031625555804003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=5727031625555804003&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/5727031625555804003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/5727031625555804003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/03/mustang-sally.html' title='Mustang Sally'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1985740647990377145</id><published>2007-03-28T17:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-28T17:17:51.916-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Pain Distracts Me</title><content type='html'>Do you ever want to drag your head along the wall while you're walking around, letting it bang against every doorjamb, lightswitch, whiteboard or picture frame you pass?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1985740647990377145?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1985740647990377145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1985740647990377145&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1985740647990377145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1985740647990377145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/03/pain-distracts-me.html' title='The Pain Distracts Me'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1184763392632158869</id><published>2007-03-20T12:23:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T12:32:22.737-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>Out of Chaos, Into the Light</title><content type='html'>We're moved. Not unpacked, but it's over. Luke came over last night and we made dinner together. He frolicked happily through our garden and gave the place a stamp of approval. It's only a 15-20 minute walk from where he works, so we're betting we'll see him MORE now.&lt;br /&gt;Now it is time for me to stress over the fact that I have not done taxes. This is the longest I've ever waited, and I'm not showing signs of getting to it anytime soon. Besides, I file online, and we won't have internet until Saturday. I don't think they would appreciate it if I did them at work. Meh. If the IRS wants to audit me, then they must be really really bored.&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend, after two days of apartment hunting, Christy came and picked me and Joe up and took us out to the beach. It was awesome. We explored the old Sutro baths a bit, including this neat little tunnel you can walk down to where the waves crash up over huge rocks. People stood there forever, just staring at the water. We hiked along the bay, back towards the city a little. I'd like to come back soon and hike this whole path all the way back. Then we had a drink at the Cliff House and dipped our toes in the ice-cold ocean. I could only stand it for a minute or two until my feet went numb, but somehow there were teenaged boys surfing on those little wakeboards over the edge of the waves--without wet suits. Jeepers.&lt;br /&gt;We had dinner with Megan Sunday night at a place called Michaelangelo's, just a few blocks from our house. They have a big cheese wheel that they will just randomly come and set on your table for you to take cheese chunks from. We got a carafe of wine that they pour into a jug shaped like a chicken and when you pour, it comes out its mouth. Doesn't get much better than that. I had delicious lasagna and Megan told us the story of how she was just kicked out of her apartment. Her roommate, who Megan was subletting from, hadn't paid the rent in 3 months. She was just taking Megan's part of the rent and pocketing it! Megan's not in any trouble, but she may not get her security deposit back, since it was paid directly to the stealing, lying girl.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1184763392632158869?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1184763392632158869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1184763392632158869&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1184763392632158869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1184763392632158869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/03/out-of-chaos-into-light.html' title='Out of Chaos, Into the Light'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1088495015780088108</id><published>2007-03-12T12:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-12T13:06:41.309-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><title type='text'>Apartment Pictures</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1MfZBeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6OXOCV6F57k/s1600-h/living+room.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041084705866843618" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1MfZBeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6OXOCV6F57k/s200/living+room.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1cfZBfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0GiWRImKnVc/s1600-h/bedroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041084710161810930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1cfZBfI/AAAAAAAAAAU/0GiWRImKnVc/s200/bedroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1cfZBgI/AAAAAAAAAAc/t3xyg2Sd4T4/s1600-h/bathroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041084710161810946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1cfZBgI/AAAAAAAAAAc/t3xyg2Sd4T4/s200/bathroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1cfZBhI/AAAAAAAAAAk/YSbg_V8mLco/s1600-h/kitchen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041084710161810962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1cfZBhI/AAAAAAAAAAk/YSbg_V8mLco/s200/kitchen.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since there were some issues emailing pictures, I'm gonna post 'em here (if it works). This is the cleanest our place has ever been! Though it's not hard to get a place clean when you don't have much stuff!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We started packing last night, even though we're not positive when we're moving. We did get a couple to take over our lease though! That's a load off my mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1088495015780088108?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1088495015780088108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1088495015780088108&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1088495015780088108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1088495015780088108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/03/apartment-pictures.html' title='Apartment Pictures'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cQEcWr1aX3g/RfWH1MfZBeI/AAAAAAAAAAM/6OXOCV6F57k/s72-c/living+room.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-567914346787017935</id><published>2007-02-27T18:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T18:55:50.066-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Life Imitates Cartoons</title><content type='html'>Do you remember that episode of Winnie the Pooh where Pooh goes over to Rabbit's house and eats so much honey that he gets stuck trying to get back out? He's so fat now he gets stuck in the hole Rabbit uses as a front door. They have to wait all winter for Pooh to get thin again before they can pull him out. Pooh tries to bribe anyone who passes by to give him some food, while Rabbit uses his butt as an end table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This story is the human version of that:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"An overweight woman who got stuck in a South African cave trapped 22 fellow tourists for more than 10 hours and had to be prised free with liquid paraffin.&lt;br /&gt;The woman became trapped in the Tunnel of Love obstacle in the Cango Caves in Western Cape on New Year's Day.&lt;br /&gt;The caves' manager said the woman had been warned she might not be suitable but she insisted on trying.&lt;br /&gt;One of those trapped was a diabetic who had to be brought insulin. The woman and the other tourists were unhurt.&lt;br /&gt;The rescue operation involved several ambulance teams and a helicopter."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the full version &lt;a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6225301.stm"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kinda makes me want to stick with WW even more now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-567914346787017935?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/567914346787017935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=567914346787017935&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/567914346787017935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/567914346787017935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/life-imitates-cartoons.html' title='Life Imitates Cartoons'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-7953024455659374576</id><published>2007-02-26T19:05:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-26T19:14:03.657-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parties'/><title type='text'>Oscar Party</title><content type='html'>Now, normally the idea of actually sitting and watching the Oscars is about as interesting to me as, oh, sitting and watching the Superbowl.&lt;br /&gt;But, as I learned with the Superbowl, you just throw a party and voila! It's actually fun.&lt;br /&gt;Fancy dress was required. I wore a long black skirt, shiny purple shirt and a pretty scarf. Christy wore a beautiful blue ball gown, Joe wore a suit jacket, and Luke and Aliza showed up in full-on 80's dance party garb.&lt;br /&gt;Whatever floats your boat.&lt;br /&gt;A few more of Luke's friends showed up too. They brought beer, Christy brought snacks and we ordered Chinese food for dinner.&lt;br /&gt;I had been gathering uber-lame prizes (mostly from Goodwill and the post-Valentine's Day sales at Walgreens) just for this night. Luckily, I had just enough for everybody. Everyone voted on who they thought would win, then first place got to pick their prize first.&lt;br /&gt;Joe won by a landslide, with 16 categories right. He got a Japanese handtowel.&lt;br /&gt;Luke and I tied for second, with 9 each. Luke got a Wisconsin photo magnet that I just happened to find at Goodwill. I bowed out of the prize picking, but even after everyone chose, the one thing I actually wanted was left--a pink, plastic piggybank. His nose screws off so you can get the money out!&lt;br /&gt;The one bummer was that our silly DVR (which we used to record the Oscars because people couldn't get there until after it started) failed to record the last 30 minutes. So we missed out on seeing the biggest awards!&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Thank goodness for the internet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-7953024455659374576?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7953024455659374576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=7953024455659374576&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7953024455659374576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7953024455659374576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/oscar-party.html' title='Oscar Party'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-8540567693927963556</id><published>2007-02-22T17:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-22T17:47:39.152-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate in My Bra (happens more than I care to admit)</title><content type='html'>I have discovered the greatest thing ever: Scharffen Berger's "Nibby" bar. I grabbed it because it was small and made of dark chocolate. Only when I sat down to eat it did I realize that there were actual CHUNKS of cocao beans in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, heck yeah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-8540567693927963556?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8540567693927963556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=8540567693927963556&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/8540567693927963556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/8540567693927963556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/chocolate-in-my-bra-happens-more-than-i.html' title='Chocolate in My Bra (happens more than I care to admit)'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-1427257138111763462</id><published>2007-02-20T13:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-20T14:04:49.869-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fun stuff'/><title type='text'>Belated Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>Our real Valentine's Day celebration began, as all good celebrations should, with copious amounts of drinking before noon.&lt;br /&gt;After brunch, we went to the Barleywine Festival over at Toronado on Haight Street. Barleywine is basically really really really strong beer. One kind we tried was 27% proof. Compare that to Bud Lite's 5%. You could buy it in tiny little tasting glasses though, so you would be able to try lots of different kinds. We only made it through 6, mostly because it simply got too crowded in there for us. There are some people who wait outside before the place even opens at 11:30 am, then camp at a table with a picnic lunch and 5 of their best friends. They then proceed to try ALL 50 KINDS! Not that hard with 6 people and only 3 oz glasses, but still amazing.&lt;br /&gt;After that we headed to the Antiquarian Book Fair. I wasn't terribly excited to go, mostly because Joe was excited about the stuff like a Plato manuscript. Which is cool and all, but boooooring.&lt;br /&gt;But there was tons of cool stuff. Recent books, super old books. The most expensive one we saw was a first edition of Gulliver's Travels for $150,000. Wow. Pretty good condition too. There was a first edition of Bartholomew and the Oobleck I would have loved, but what I really wanted, and what I would buy if I had a few tens of thousands of dollars lying around, was a first edition copy of "Where the Wild Things Are." They ranged in price from $18-35,000.&lt;br /&gt;Mom, did you have a copy of this when you were a kid? It was published in 1964. Please say yes.&lt;br /&gt;Then say that you think you still have it up in Grandpa's attic. That would be a great inheritance...&lt;br /&gt;Our final destination was the Cliff House, a restaurant that juts out over the Pacific Ocean (not the Bay, by where Luke works). The food was excellent, though still overpriced as we expected. It was neat. The Sutro Bathhouse used to be there, and the restaurant kept part of the original ceiling. They would pump in ocean water and heat it. 10 cents a swim! You can still see part of the ruins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-1427257138111763462?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1427257138111763462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=1427257138111763462&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1427257138111763462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/1427257138111763462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/belated-valentines-day.html' title='Belated Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-3951904619257339815</id><published>2007-02-16T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T17:26:57.386-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='California'/><title type='text'>SF has its perks</title><content type='html'>It's soooooo nice out today!&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I did in high school, when you'd get one of those Friday afternoons in May, where it was so nice out and so close to the end of the school year that it actually caused you physical pain to stay inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were one of the bad kids, you'd skip your last class and go drive around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you were a good kid, you'd run outside for a few minutes between classes to bask in the sun on the front stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if, like me, you were one of those good kids who was so good that you could actually get away with anything, you'd tell the teacher of your last class that you had to run to the store to get something for, um, shop class. Yeah, the hardware store. Only open until 3 on Fridays.&lt;br /&gt;THEN you'd go drive around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unless Mrs. Bartlein was your last class teacher. Then you would get a snort of disbelief and an eyeball roll. Then you would sit down. And probably learn something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Probably something important, in fact.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-3951904619257339815?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3951904619257339815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=3951904619257339815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3951904619257339815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/3951904619257339815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/sf-has-its-perks.html' title='SF has its perks'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-7947100384542960468</id><published>2007-02-16T14:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T14:59:31.481-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dreams'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'>Whale Chase</title><content type='html'>Blogger is making me do weird things, changing the way you sign in and post. Ugh. I may switch over the Live Journal entirely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having intensely weird dreams lately. Last night I dreamt I was being chased by a whale. When I finally got out of the water. the whale jumped onto the beach and kept chasing me by kind of flopping foward. He gashed my leg with his teeth (yes, I know whales don't really have teeth, per se, but I'm sure he could draw blood with his jaws, regardless). However then he was too far inland and had to go back. I drew a line in the sand so I knew how far he could get, because I knew he would try again later. I was too scared to go into the jungle on this desert island, so I needed to know where it was safe to sleep on the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's no coincidence I was dreaming about work just before this. Feel trapped much?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got my hair cut again, and this may be the shortest it's ever been. I have learned (in my wise old age) the value of a really good haircut. Even when the old one started to grow out, even when I don't do anything to it, my hair looks much nicer than it ever did before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always tell them it needs to be super low maintanence. I am not a blow dryer kind of girl. I am not a hot iron kind of girl. I'm barely even a product kind of girl. And they swear to me that it will look fine if I just let it air-dry and it does, but...&lt;br /&gt;It never looks nearly as cool as when they do it. My hair is sort of...fluffy. Not curly, but not totally straight either. So the super-shortness can look a little weird. It makes my head look incredibly round, which is why hairstylists are often hesistant to cut it that short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday I found myself buying a hot iron. I haven't burned myself yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Valentines' Day, Joe and I got takeout burgers, then stopped at the new candy store on the way home. That candy store is SO MUCH FUN! They have all kinds of stuff, and we got lots of little baggies of things to try.&lt;br /&gt;I swear, we didn't even eat that much, but both of us did not feel well afterwards. I don't know if it was the burgers or the candy or the collective rot of eating junk food we're not used to. Bleh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Saturday is our real Valentines' Day. We're going out to eat at a restaurant overlooking the ocean, way out by the beach. Hopefully it won't make us sick.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-7947100384542960468?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7947100384542960468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=7947100384542960468&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7947100384542960468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/7947100384542960468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/whale-chase.html' title='Whale Chase'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-117132240969878396</id><published>2007-02-12T18:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-12T18:20:28.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More rejection</title><content type='html'>So after my "good" rejection from Black Gate of my "depressing" story, I decided (hoped) that Chiaroscuro Magazine, being of a darker ilk, would be the proper home for it. Today I received the following rejection:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for sending "Of Its Own Accord" our way (though on the story itself, the title's given as "Her Own Accord").  I'm afraid we'll be taking a pass this time.  I'm predisposed to like this sort of post-disaster scenario and there are some really nice, deft moments here, as with that initial imagined conversation.  But Justin hovers a bit too uneasily between sensible and deranged, and the Phil-and-Derek storyline and the end of the piece don't quite come together for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Best of luck placing this one elsewhere, and please do keep us in mind for your future work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheers,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiction Editor&lt;br /&gt;http://chizine.com/&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if I can count this among my good rejections. I suspect they give a line or two of ideas to every story, though I'm not sure. Anyways:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Justin hovers a bit too uneasily between sensible and deranged&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Er, that's sort of the point of the story, so I'm not sure how to work on that one. I think I'll chalk it up to artistic differences.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;the Phil-and-Derek storyline and the end of the piece don't quite come together for me&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This one I understand, though that doesn't mean I know how to fix it. The ending isn't a direct cause-and-effect line, and I can see how some people wouldn't buy it. It may be time to put this story into the "Needs Serious Rewrites" folder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I then looked at the history of this story, wondering where I can submit it next, when I realized that I never got an answer on it from Ideomancer. A loooooooong time ago. So long ago that at this point it is totally my fault for not following up. They wrote back once asking for it in a different format, I sent the new format, then...nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I know I'm not supposed to sub to another market until I've heard from the one before (at least not without telling them) but I simply FORGOT. Obviously. Which is why I'll never be annoyed at editors when they don't get back to me. If I can't even keep track of my own submissions, how can I expect them to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heck, I can't even keep the title of my story straight. Though both titles are awful, I admit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, off to hassle the Ideomancer folk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-117132240969878396?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/117132240969878396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=117132240969878396&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117132240969878396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117132240969878396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/more-rejection.html' title='More rejection'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-117097286375594208</id><published>2007-02-08T17:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-08T17:14:23.770-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Melting!</title><content type='html'>The Rain! The rain has come at last! For months now, every time we got a little sprinkle people would say, Oh it's going to rain for MONTHS now. And then the next day would be sunshiney. &lt;br /&gt;But I believe them this time. It is February, and it has been downpouring for two days. As much as I completely dig the constant sunshine, I'm kind of excited about the rain. &lt;br /&gt;I suppose I ought to go get myself a rainjacket.&lt;br /&gt;The Superbowl was fun. Joe and I had a last minute party with Luke, Aliza and Christy. Luckily we had ingredients for guacamole, everyone brought beer, and then we ordered a pizza (Chicago style, of course!) Luke and I both had money in Superbowl pools, but lost miserably. This is the first time I have watched an entire Superbowl since the Packers were in it.&lt;br /&gt;My Weight Watchers total is at 25 pounds now! They give you a fun little magnet for that. Also, I now officially weigh less than I did in high school, though just barely.&lt;br /&gt;I've started my next novel, almost accidentally. I just didn't know what to start on next. Sometimes having too many ideas is a bigger problem for me than having none at all. In fact, that's always a problem. I need to do a lot more research for this novel, though some thing can be put in later. Sometimes you just need to get the characters moving!&lt;br /&gt;I bought my brother a Betty Crocker cookbook, the new edition, for his birthday and I liked it so much, I might have to go buy my own! Sunday morning I got up and made muffins out of it. They were lemon muffins, because we'd just gotten Meyer lemons at the farmer's market. Then, when they had 7 minutes left to cook, Luke and Aliza just happened to be walking by and stopped over. I think they followed their noses. So I gave Luke the cookbook along with a fresh muffin.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone has been completely ignoring STNB, to the point where I feel kind of bad for him and have been trying to tolerate him better. I actually listen to his ramblings and am the first to voluteer to help on his projects. Sigh. I try to tell people I'm really a mean person most of the time, but nobody ever believes it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-117097286375594208?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/117097286375594208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=117097286375594208&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117097286375594208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117097286375594208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/im-melting.html' title='I&apos;m Melting!'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-117045517870660153</id><published>2007-02-02T17:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T17:28:24.246-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On Second Thought</title><content type='html'>On second thought, I see an entire keg of Bud Light in the kitchen for the Superbowl party. I forgive them for forgetting my donuts.&lt;br /&gt;In other news, Slow Talking Nerd Boy (STNB) has been moved to our side of the cubicle divide. Apparently he has seniority over the recently vacated window desk.&lt;br /&gt;uuuuuuggggghhhh.&lt;br /&gt;Just today I heard him talking to a new girl in a different department. As I walked by, he said to her, "Oh, I think you have something on your chin."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," she said. "It's a mole."&lt;br /&gt;Shudder.&lt;br /&gt;The only good parts are that he's still not next to me (still plenty of unsuspecting victims in between us) and that the Interesting Irish guy might also be moving over here too. He seems to be able to put up with STNB better than the rest of us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-117045517870660153?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/117045517870660153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=117045517870660153&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117045517870660153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117045517870660153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/on-second-thought.html' title='On Second Thought'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-117044334433595071</id><published>2007-02-02T14:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T14:09:04.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Great Big Walls of Stupid</title><content type='html'>I keep running into big walls of stupid today at work. &lt;br /&gt;People who can't read an email all the way to the bottom. &lt;br /&gt;People who don't understand or cannot manage to use the "reply to all" function in email, despite my tutorial. &lt;br /&gt;People who like to guess at times and dates, assuming I enjoy scanning four hours of football coverage looking for a mention of Bud Light.  &lt;br /&gt;If I go home with another ripping headache today, I'm going to have to take some anger management classes. &lt;br /&gt;And apparently we're having some half-assed Superbowl party this afternoon, which is cool and all, but I believe it has pre-empted the traditional Friday morning doughnut run. Not cool, people. I demand BOTH.&lt;br /&gt;Also, apparently most adults (at least the ones who work for my company) don't understand how time zones work.&lt;br /&gt;And did you all know that Canada has some half-time zones? Those crazy Canadians!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-117044334433595071?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/117044334433595071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=117044334433595071&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117044334433595071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117044334433595071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/02/great-big-walls-of-stupid.html' title='Great Big Walls of Stupid'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-117019940300140713</id><published>2007-01-30T18:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-30T18:23:23.020-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shopping and Such</title><content type='html'>I bought shoes on sale! Shoes that are cute. Heels, in fact, though they're incredibly comfortable. They make me very happy. I replace my everyday tennis shoes on average about every 6 months. This is because they get stinky (which no washing can remove) and because the lining of the heels tends to disintegrate. Other than that, I haven't bought new shoes in probably a year. Oh, and they're green.&lt;br /&gt;This weekend was spent at home, puttering and watching TV and trying to write. Joe is basically homebound for the next 2 months, having to work every weekend until he meets some deadline. Silly jobs. I went to the crappier, smaller farmer's market that is closer to our house just to get us some fruit to make it through the week. Though there is one stand I really like there, and I bought kiwis! They're in season, and all misshapen and wonderfully not uniform. I like that.&lt;br /&gt;Friday night (at a going away party after work) I finally asked the other girls in my department if Slow Talking Nerd Boy bugs them too, and they can't STAND him. We complained all the way home. See it's not just that he's a nerd. He's creepy too.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I saw Dreamgirls Friday night with Christy. It was good. Not amazing. I would like to see the actual musical. The thing is, their mouths didn't always quite match up with the singing, which constantly reminded you that they were lipsynching to a studio recording they had done. I dunno, kinda kills the magic.&lt;br /&gt;I've been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer, starting with season 1. It always seemed overly cheesy and Sarah Michelle Gellar was too cutesy to me. But all my scifi buddies love it, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Apparently it gets better in Season 3. We'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-117019940300140713?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/117019940300140713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=117019940300140713&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117019940300140713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/117019940300140713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/shopping-and-such.html' title='Shopping and Such'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116967877466020456</id><published>2007-01-24T17:42:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T17:51:31.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slow Talking Nerd Boys Who Think They Stand A Chance</title><content type='html'>So today I went into the lunchroom to sit and write&lt;br /&gt;(and eat). I've been writing there every lunch hour&lt;br /&gt;for a few weeks now. Someone else was sitting at the&lt;br /&gt;table by the one outlet in the room. That's fine,&lt;br /&gt;since I had my notebook today, not my laptop. I sat&lt;br /&gt;down at the table next to it to eat. &lt;br /&gt;5 min later, that person leaves and Slow Talking Nerd&lt;br /&gt;Boy comes and sits down. Lately he's been cornering me&lt;br /&gt;to ask if I'm a writer and have I ever published&lt;br /&gt;anything and he's a writer too and boy it's hard to&lt;br /&gt;find time and wah wah wah.&lt;br /&gt;So he pulls out his laptop, plugs it in and starts&lt;br /&gt;typing.&lt;br /&gt;AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;He tried to talk to me, but I ignored him. I kept my&lt;br /&gt;head down and because I had headphones on, I could&lt;br /&gt;pretend like I didn't hear him. But when I got up to&lt;br /&gt;put my dishes away, he FOLLOWED me into the kitchen to&lt;br /&gt;tell me about these siamese twins and then ask what&lt;br /&gt;kind of books I read (we've been over this, idiot) and&lt;br /&gt;lament the lack of good female protagonists. wah wah&lt;br /&gt;wah. I nodded and stared at my food in the microwave.&lt;br /&gt;Then I went back to my table and put my headphones on&lt;br /&gt;again.&lt;br /&gt;Does he take my ignoring and borderline rude behavior&lt;br /&gt;as mysteriousness and aloofness? &lt;br /&gt;He knows I have a boyfriend. He commented on my Commander shirt one day&lt;br /&gt;(way to stare at my chest, jerk) and I said my&lt;br /&gt;BOYFRIEND got it because my BOYFRIEND works there.&lt;br /&gt;Does he think we'll be writing buddies?!?! Because we&lt;br /&gt;won't!!&lt;br /&gt;And I was getting so much work done. Now I have to&lt;br /&gt;start going to Starbucks to write. Maybe I can use one&lt;br /&gt;of those outside tables.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116967877466020456?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116967877466020456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116967877466020456&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116967877466020456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116967877466020456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/slow-talking-nerd-boys-who-think-they.html' title='Slow Talking Nerd Boys Who Think They Stand A Chance'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116959447802339592</id><published>2007-01-23T17:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-23T18:21:18.043-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Muir Woods</title><content type='html'>This Sunday, Joe, Christy and I hopped in Christy's car and took a trip over to Muir Woods, a mere 20 minutes away. It's really amazing the things you find just outside the city. Another 30 minutes north of that is Napa Valley.&lt;br /&gt;On the way, we stopped in Sausalito for brunch, which is just on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge. It was the most gorgeous day out. We had decent food and even got to eat outside. Sausalito's main street leads right into the water facing San Francisco. It's a cute town full of coffeeshops and art stores that I'd love to spend more time in. We found out that there's actually a ferry from SF to there, so we might try to do that one day.&lt;br /&gt;Then off down a winding, twisting, vomit-inducing road to the woods. We didn't have a whole lot of time before the park closed (Christy, you putterer you!) so we just did the easy main trail at Muir woods, but it was worth it. Redwoods are breathtaking, even the ones that are only medium-sized. They're just so old! The woods really do look as misty and majestic as photographs make them out to be. The eco-system is delicate though. We saw the remains of what used to be that really famous walk-through tree that everyone took their picture in front of. It collapsed and died in 1971 from too many people walking over the roots. Now they're really hard-core about conservation.&lt;br /&gt;It's a very soul-refreshing kind of place. I hope Christy keeps wanting to go on these outings. Having a car in SF is definitely a plus. I didn't miss it a bit in NYC, but here it would be nice. Joe and I want to sign up for zipcar soon, though. People have shown that even if you rented a car every single weekend, it would still be cheaper than actually owning a car in the city. &lt;br /&gt;I'm all excited about going camping now. Once it warms up, we want to go up to Point Reyes just like Luke and Aliza did.&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to get Joe to upload some of the digital pics from Muir Woods for y'all to ooh and aah over.&lt;br /&gt;On our way home, we saw a small sign for Muir Beach, which is where the stream that runs through Muir Woods empties into the ocean. After driving down a cruddy little road and climbing over sand dunes and a smelly board walk, you come upon a beach, hidden in a bay among craggy cliffs. To the west was the sunset, and to the east, the foggy lights of San Francisco. Familys were packing up picnics and dogs ran around in the waves. A lovely end to a lovely day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116959447802339592?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116959447802339592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116959447802339592&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116959447802339592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116959447802339592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/muir-woods.html' title='Muir Woods'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116923997647001072</id><published>2007-01-19T15:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-19T15:59:14.903-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ivy League</title><content type='html'>I had an interview this morning that I was NOT looking forward to, mostly because I scheduled it at 7:30 a.m. so I could still get in most of a day of work. Plus, it was an hour away, at Stanford University, in the OPPOSITE direction of work.&lt;br /&gt;But nothing, nothing compares to seeing Stanford University for the first time when it is completely empty of all people, when the sun is just rising, when is is 30 degrees out.&lt;br /&gt;I got tears in my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;This is Ivy League, baby.&lt;br /&gt;It is a campus. Other colleges I've seen, like NYU and Madison, are integrated right into the city they're in. NYU is cool, of course, but it's hard to tell when, if ever, you actually cross into the "campus." And Madison has things like Bascom Hall that are all up on a hill and cool, but mainly the rest of the campus is just buildings.&lt;br /&gt;Stanford is &lt;a href="http://www.terragalleria.com/california/picture.usca33415.html"&gt;grand brown sandstone buildings, with red slate roofs &lt;/a&gt;as far as the eye can see. &lt;a href="http://www.terragalleria.com/california/picture.usca9413.html"&gt;Arched outer hallways &lt;/a&gt;and &lt;a href="http://www.terragalleria.com/california/picture.usca37527.html"&gt;statues of Plato and Socrates by Rodin &lt;/a&gt;give the whole place a historic feel. There is &lt;a href="http://www.terragalleria.com/california/picture.usca9408.html"&gt;a big church, with gorgeous stained glass windows &lt;/a&gt;that borders one side of the main quad, and while I stood there gaping at it, a guy came up, knelt in the middle of the quad facing the church and starting praying.&lt;br /&gt;No kidding.&lt;br /&gt;I was glad I got there early, so I had some time to wander around, though my ears were ice cubes by the time I could go inside.&lt;br /&gt;Be sure to click on the pictures I linked to.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not sure how the interview went, but it was totally worth it, just for the views!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116923997647001072?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116923997647001072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116923997647001072&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116923997647001072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116923997647001072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/ivy-league.html' title='Ivy League'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116916667073366224</id><published>2007-01-18T19:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-18T19:31:10.756-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WW</title><content type='html'>As of last night, I've lost 21.2 pounds on Weight Watchers. Yay! They even gave me a fun little keychain for it. Let's hope I can keep it up. Only forty or so more to go...&lt;br /&gt;Bizarrely, when I showed up at the meeting on Wednesday, they said that was the last time we'd be meeting there because the hospital (where we meet) was throwing us out! In fact, we weren't even allowed a normal meeting that night. The meetings had gotten too big.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently they had been meeting at a church before this that was condemned DURING a meeting, and proceeded to toss everyone out then too!&lt;br /&gt;This could throw a lot of people off completely. I'm not sure where I'm going to go next week. Maybe I'll skip a week and see if they start up at a new place in the same area.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116916667073366224?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116916667073366224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116916667073366224&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116916667073366224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116916667073366224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/ww.html' title='WW'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116898713414271105</id><published>2007-01-16T17:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-16T17:38:54.160-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On Bras</title><content type='html'>How can bra designers be so bad at their jobs? Seriously, how hard is it to design a properly fitting bra that doesn't stab or scrap me in four places?&lt;br /&gt;I'll admit, I'm not an easy girl to fit. But there are some common sense things we could learn. &lt;br /&gt;For example, NO ONE buying a DD cup is going to be happy with those half-inch ribbons you call straps. Those won't hold up squat. All those will do is cut red, raw lines into my shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;Same goes for that frilly bit of lace you included along the bottom. Sure, it looks pretty. And yes, that's part of what suckered me into buying it. But now it's hurting me. It has folded under and it itching me horrendously, causing me to reach up under my shirt and scratch myself in polite company. I will never buy a bra that looks like that again.&lt;br /&gt;This goes for every other raw seam, unpadded edge and weirdly shaped underwire out there. I am not buying cheap bras, here, either. There is no excuse for this. &lt;br /&gt;Sure, I could buy those big, white matronly things. They would give me great support. However, they generally seem to be made out of recycled army tent canvas and are no more comfortable than their highly decorated sisters.&lt;br /&gt;And WHAT is with my straps falling down constantly?!?! Do I have uncommonly narrow shoulders? I don't think so. I'm built like a linebacker. Are these designed by men who LIKE to watch women reach inside their shirt every three minutes to haul up a strap? Can we possibly find someone inventive enough, creative and brilliant enough, to design straps that don't slip down to my elbows? Perhaps someday my bra savior will rise to power and create such a thing.&lt;br /&gt;Give me a little help here, folks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116898713414271105?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116898713414271105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116898713414271105&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116898713414271105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116898713414271105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/on-bras.html' title='On Bras'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116863504034374679</id><published>2007-01-12T15:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-26T17:32:46.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff Lately</title><content type='html'>It is very cold here today. It makes my bones ache. I think I will take a hot bath tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I think I got a place to sleep in the main hotel for WisCon. I hope it all works out. It will be fun to meet new people by having roommates, and to be right there for all the parties and mingling and networking. It will also be fun to NOT sleep on my cousin's couch while he and his drunken friends romp around.&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to buy plane tickets. I wish I knew what job I will have in May.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meta stayed with us Mon-Wed this week and bought us a wok as a thank-you present! Then, she proceeded to cook us dinner on it. That's my kind of houseguest.&lt;br /&gt;My birthday was nice too. Meta and I made homemade pizza, Christy came over, and the four of us ate ice cream and played the Wii.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the clothes, Mom!&lt;br /&gt;Joe's present to me is that jewelery class at the Crucible I've been eyeing. I think I'll have a blast!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This post sort of reads like a small-town gossip column :)&lt;br /&gt;"On Monday, Miss Jones was visited by her friend from Australia. A good time was had by all..."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116863504034374679?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116863504034374679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116863504034374679&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116863504034374679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116863504034374679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/stuff-lately.html' title='Stuff Lately'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116786346326527147</id><published>2007-01-03T17:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-03T17:31:03.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zad and Oriana</title><content type='html'>Zad and Oriana have been visiting for the past week, along with Prufrock, who's been pretty well behaved so far. On New Year's Eve we went and saw the fireworks. We had a great view, but ended up walking all the way home. It took us an hour, and my feet still hurt. There were just too many people, and the buses were packed. We tried to walk along Fisherman's Wharf earlier, but it was plagued by what Zad calls "rampant scumbagery." Meaning, teenagers. Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;Lots and lots of eating out too. Which is fun, but tough to do while trying to lose weight. I realize now that there were a lot of things that made me gain so much weight in NYC--we have a very specific way we all eat together. We order appetizers, then entrees (which everyone shares) and then usually dessert. Then drinking afterwards. Then once we get home, someone pulls out chips and salsa, or cookies, or whatever. The other night, after eating Burmese food, Joe got home and started to get himself a bowl of cereal. We never do that on our own! At least not anymore. I've never been a night eater, and I think I've influenced Joe out of that too (instead of the other way around, finally).&lt;br /&gt;Last night we showed them our trip pictures and Joe gave Oriana all the rocks he'd collected for her along the way. Before that, we got sushi at a sushi boat place (Mom, remind me to bring you there. You'll plotz in happiness, like Oriana did). Then we walked around Japantown. Those are the times I miss the most, just wandering around with people. We did that in NYC all the time, but people don't seem to do that here. And Zad and Oriana are the most fun--Oriana is entertained by everything, and Zad usually makes me laugh until I cry. He's been sick with stomach problems for most of the trip, which must be awful and I feel so bad for him, but I must admit is pretty hilarious for the rest of us. We can be ruthless.&lt;br /&gt;What else...we had dinner at Zuppenkuche on Zad's first night here, a German restaurant just down the street that's so popular we've never even been able to get a table before. Pretty good food, but what was most exciting was that they have the 2 liter glass boots, just like the Essenhaus in Madison. And, even more exciting, you can order a 5 liter stein of beer. That's right. I thought Zad's eyes were going to fall out. He is determined to drink one before he leaves (not even our favorite beer joints in NYC have a 5 liter stein) but even Zad has the good sense to realize he will die if he drinks it alone. So he has been actively recruiting Joe to help him out. Great.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and my FAVORITE part of the weekend: The Green Apple Book Sale. Green Apple books is sort of like the Strand of SF. Much smaller, but the same glorious, cramped piles of books. During the last week of December, they open up their warehouse to the public and mark the already discounted books off 50%. Luke went right away and called me from the warehouse because he was so excited, but I knew I had to wait for Oriana. We spent over an hour there. Oriana might even go back at the end of the week, as they were constantly replenishing picked-over shelves. There is very little organization, so you just scan the shelves, tossing books into your basket with abandon. I had to ask them to hold a pile for me behind the cash register because I couldn't carry any more. Between Joe and I, we spend $80. Sounds like a lot, but it was as many books as we could fit into our 2 backpacks and still walk upright. I would have bought more if we had a way to get them home! I got more than Joe (as he likes to point out) but his actually cost more because they were cookbooks, while mine were dirtcheap because fiction was 75% off (as I like to point out). I'm so excited. Now we just need a bookshelf to put them on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116786346326527147?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116786346326527147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116786346326527147&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116786346326527147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116786346326527147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/zad-and-oriana.html' title='Zad and Oriana'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116777637534824181</id><published>2007-01-02T17:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-01-02T17:19:35.366-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Doorknobs</title><content type='html'>It sort of annoys me when people go through the whole using a paper towel to open the bathroom doorhandle routine. What exactly does this do? What are they afraid of? Cold or flu germs? Beyond The Plague That Will End The World Someday (ala 12 Monkeys), I don't think there is much else you can catch from a doorknob, barring any actual, you know, blood on it. Are these people going to be sticking their fingers in their mouth, or the mouths of others immediately afterwards? If so, I apologize for my sarcasm and eye-rolling when you do this.&lt;br /&gt;Has anyone ever done a study to see if these people get noticably less colds or flu bugs than the rest of us? I'd put my money on no.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116777637534824181?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116777637534824181/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116777637534824181&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116777637534824181'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116777637534824181'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2007/01/doorknobs.html' title='Doorknobs'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116734763469877540</id><published>2006-12-28T18:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-28T18:13:54.710-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We Got Snow!</title><content type='html'>Christmas time in Wisconsin was fun. It usually is, though this year seemed to be especially whirlwindy. I got a fuzzy pink bathrobe, some new clothes and jewelery (including a Black Hills Gold bracelet my parents got on their trip to Rount Mushmore), Pirates of the Carribean 2, and a book called "What Should I Do With My Life?" by Po Bronson, among other things. I tried to flip to the end for the answer, but apparently it doesn't work that way. &lt;br /&gt;From Joe I got a Battlestar Galactica Mug and a t-shirt that says "So Say We All." I'm the coolest nerd around, and I will wear my nerdery proudly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116734763469877540?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116734763469877540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116734763469877540&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116734763469877540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116734763469877540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/we-got-snow.html' title='We Got Snow!'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116665775787522376</id><published>2006-12-20T18:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T18:35:57.890-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Paperback Joy</title><content type='html'>I decided to go to Barnes &amp; Noble during my lunch hour and get hot chocolate and sit in the cafe reading magazines. I deserved it. It was one of those days. &lt;br /&gt;On my way through the store, I noticed one of those book donation centers, where they have a bunch of tags like "Boy, Age 9" or "Girl, Age 11" that you grab and buy a book for. There were quite a lot of tags left, considering there are only 5 days until Christmas. Hmm, (I thought, as I wandered by) I should maybe do that. I like giving kids books. Maybe on my way out. Maybe next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Conscience: STOP. Turn around. Actually do it, instead of thinking you SHOULD maybe do something.&lt;br /&gt;Me: But I'm broke! And I just spent a whole bunch of money on gifts!&lt;br /&gt;MC: If you're broke, why did you spend so much money on gifts for people who already have a lot of stuff?&lt;br /&gt;Me: uhhhhh&lt;br /&gt;MC: You should do something nice for someone who might not have much.&lt;br /&gt;Me: But I don't donate money. It's a policy of mine. I donate time.&lt;br /&gt;MC: But it's the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;Me: So?&lt;br /&gt;MC: And if you skip that overpriced hot chocolate you were about to buy, that'll cover at least half a kids' book, won't it?&lt;br /&gt;Me: ...you win again, conscience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which is my long-winded way of saying I bought "Aliens Ate My Homework" by Bruce Coville for an annonymous 9-year-old boy. I do so love spreading the gospel of Coville.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116665775787522376?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116665775787522376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116665775787522376&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116665775787522376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116665775787522376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/paperback-joy.html' title='Paperback Joy'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116664425392079524</id><published>2006-12-20T14:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-20T14:50:53.936-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hack, Cough, Die</title><content type='html'>The cold has now moved into my lungs. I am not looking foward to flying. However, due to the magic of modern medicine, I plan to be asleep before the plane even takes off.&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116664425392079524?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116664425392079524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116664425392079524&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116664425392079524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116664425392079524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/hack-cough-die.html' title='Hack, Cough, Die'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116655767228170413</id><published>2006-12-19T14:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-19T14:47:52.343-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ode to Cold</title><content type='html'>Do you know what it's like to WANT to be cold? To wish you could stagger around in flurries of snow that fill every nook and cranny of your eskimo outfit?&lt;br /&gt;First you start with boots so big and heavy that they make you walk like a 400 pound man. Inside there are a few extra pairs of socks you stole from your dad. On your legs are long underwear, heavy jeans, and snow pants that make that zipzip sound when you walk. These are what make falling over into the snow feel like tumbling into a cloud in snow motion. On top is your brightly colored ski jacket (because they only wear black in New York and white is just silly, for many reasons). A pair of gloves, then mittens on top of those, a thick hat down around your ears, your hood pulled up tight, and a long scarf wrapped around that, keeping it all in place.&lt;br /&gt;After being outside for a while, your breath will make a sheet of ice form on the inside of your scarf. You rotate the scarf, forming a sheet on the other side as well. Eventually this ice will chafe and chap the entire lower portion of your face.&lt;br /&gt;Your feet will get cold. They always get cold, no matter how many pairs of socks or how expensive your ice-fishing boots are. But you wiggle your toes and feel them rubbing against each other like blocks of wood and know they will be okay for a little while longer.&lt;br /&gt;As you stagger across fields of untouched, unseen, unbroken snow, you have to lift each foot as high as you can to take the next step. If you have layered your clothes properly, no snow will get in your boots. Snow whips across the field, lifting and twisting, looking like white sheets flapping in the wind on a clothesline. And when you find somewhere to hunker down, in a hollow under a pine tree, or between two small hills, you'll feel colder, somehow, but safer than you ever have in your life. &lt;br /&gt;I remember when we were little my brother and I used to crawl under the one tree on the bus stop corner. Trees, no matter how much snow there is, always have that tiny clear space just around their trunks. We would huddle together there to be out of the wind and then emerge in an explosion of snow like awakened bear cubs when the bus pulled up.&lt;br /&gt;When I was a teenager, I would heat my car until I could strip off my jacket inside, and somehow this felt more dangerous than they way we would all expertly slide through stop signs.&lt;br /&gt;It's wishing your lungs would burn until they hurt while sledding, the way your cheeks turn an impossible red, how your hands will never get warm once your gloves are wet, and the fact that the harder it snows and the darker it gets, the harder it gets to resist going outside into it.&lt;br /&gt;That is what it's like to miss the cold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116655767228170413?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116655767228170413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116655767228170413&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116655767228170413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116655767228170413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/ode-to-cold.html' title='Ode to Cold'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116646559887602398</id><published>2006-12-18T13:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-18T13:13:53.663-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Spirits Did It All in One Night!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, despite a very fast-moving cold that has taken residence in my head, I went to the &lt;a href="http://www.dickensfair.com/index.html"&gt;Great Dickens Christmas Fair &lt;/a&gt;out at Cow Palace in San Francisco. I didn't expect it to be so involved! Not being dressed up, we were actually in the minority here. It's sort of like a renaissance festival, only for 19th century Victorian London. I was really very impressed and had a lot of fun.&lt;br /&gt;The first thing we did was hit the bar (of course). You could get mead, festival ale, irish coffee, hot toddys and hot cider &amp; rum (my favorite!). Everywhere there was music and noise and corset shops and urchins running around. There was a Christmas parade, a bawdy dance hall revue (not recommended for children!), and drunken chimney sweeps that would bounce off you, barely muttering "sorry." Occasionally you would run into Scrooge being lead around by the Ghost of Christmas Past. There was a man walking around with a live owl on his arm. We ate fish &amp; chips for lunch, then roasted chestnuts afterwards, which are tons of fun to eat. We ended up at Fezziwig's dance hall, where you could learn traditional Victorian dances, and were then treated to a dance troupe's display of Scottish and Irish dances and music. Scrooge even showed up there.&lt;br /&gt;By the time we stumbled out, we all felt a little displaced, dehydrated, and sorely in need of fresh air. Sort of what I imagine what I would feel like if I stumbled into the real London 150 years ago!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116646559887602398?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116646559887602398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116646559887602398&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116646559887602398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116646559887602398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/spirits-did-it-all-in-one-night.html' title='The Spirits Did It All in One Night!'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116622743836295480</id><published>2006-12-15T18:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-15T19:03:58.376-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Giant Burrito for Breakfast</title><content type='html'>WisCon is the feminist science-fiction convention that takes place in Madison, WI every May. I went last year and one year during college and I always have a blast.&lt;br /&gt;Last night was my office holiday party. Joe's was the night before. Joe's was much more swank, with fancy appetizers being carried around and hip DJ music. I really like the people Joe works with (I met them the week before at his coworker's housewarming party where we ate Indian food and played poker). However, computer programmers get to show up to work whenever they want, which means that at midnight they were still going strong and I was whining, "I can still get five and a half hours of sleep if we leave NOW."&lt;br /&gt;At my party, which significant others were not invited to, I was rather nervous, not knowing that many people. So, even though I knew better, I had a drink before dinner. It hit me hard. Dinner is hazy, and I hardly remember having my third drink. I don't drink much anymore, so it hardly takes anything these days. I still had the sense, luckily, to give away my fourth drink ticket at that point. I don't even remember who I gave it to. I just shoved it at someone walking by. I actually had a LOT of fun though. I hung out with some new people, met a girl who also went to college at Madison and even danced a little. &lt;br /&gt;However, 48 hours of no sleep and too much alcohol have left me wobbly, braindead and FAMISHED. Drinking always makes you hungry the next day. One of the guys showed up with a giant burrito for breakfast. Normally that would disgust me but this morning I was rather jealous. Mmmm...beans.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116622743836295480?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116622743836295480/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116622743836295480&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116622743836295480'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116622743836295480'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/giant-burrito-for-breakfast.html' title='A Giant Burrito for Breakfast'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116612122127183616</id><published>2006-12-14T13:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-14T13:33:41.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Present for Me!</title><content type='html'>I bought myself a Christmas present yesterday. Can you guess what it is? C'mon, guess. &lt;br /&gt;You're right! It's a membership to Wiscon 2007, including a dessert salon ticket! &lt;br /&gt;I've never actually signed up early enough to get dessert tickets before, so I'm especially excited. Of course, I don't actually have plane tickets yet. And I don't know what job I will have, where I will be living, where I'm going to sleep at Wiscon, or what my financial situation will be then, but dang it! I have dessert tickets!&lt;br /&gt;I think I will make myself a goal now: Get something published (or accepted for publication) by the time Wiscon rolls around. It's a daunting task, but it will push me to send more stuff out. If it happens, I will be one of the beautiful people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116612122127183616?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116612122127183616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116612122127183616&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116612122127183616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116612122127183616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/christmas-present-for-me.html' title='Christmas Present for Me!'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116603367862117702</id><published>2006-12-13T13:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-13T13:14:38.640-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ooch, ouch, aahh</title><content type='html'>Sometimes a job I dislike motivates me to write. I think a part up my brain jumps up and reminds me that if I am successful in my writing career, I can get out of this rat race. At least partly.&lt;br /&gt;But this particular job leaves me too mentally and physically exhausted to want to do much of anything. Mentally because all day long I focus on ridiculous little details until it drives out all creative thought. Physically because I SIT ALL DAY LONG. &lt;br /&gt;You think that's not physically exhausting? Have you tried it before? Yes, I'm a writer. And I've had desk jobs. But they usually involve jumping up and down fairly often for meetings, filing, dubbing, whatever. But I don't move here. I drink water constantly just for the chance to get up and get it, and then the chance to get up and pee 20 minutes later. I spend my lunch hour walking around to work out the kinks in my body. By the time I get home my shoulders ache from un-ergonomic typing, my eyes are tired of staring at screens 12 inches away from my face, and my back is a painful rod of steel. &lt;br /&gt;Thus the lack of desire to sit at another desk and type. &lt;br /&gt;I think if I am really determined (which I usually am) I will figure out how to write during my lunch hour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116603367862117702?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116603367862117702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116603367862117702&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116603367862117702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116603367862117702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/ooch-ouch-aahh.html' title='Ooch, ouch, aahh'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116587677768920810</id><published>2006-12-11T17:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-11T17:39:37.703-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wisconsinites Are Scrappy</title><content type='html'>You gotta give 'em that. No one calls US second-rate cheeseheads!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://biz.yahoo.com/ap/061211/second_rate_cheeseheads.html?.v=2"&gt;Wisconsin Clings to Cheese Title&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116587677768920810?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116587677768920810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116587677768920810&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116587677768920810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116587677768920810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/wisconsinites-are-scrappy.html' title='Wisconsinites Are Scrappy'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116559707935587192</id><published>2006-12-08T11:38:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-08T11:57:59.380-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Saddest News</title><content type='html'>I think the saddest news I've ever heard is the story about the &lt;a href="http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/12/07/national/main2237032.shtml"&gt;San Francisco programmer and his family who went up to Oregon&lt;/a&gt;. I don't know how much coverage it's getting outside of the west coast, but it's everywhere here. I've had to turn off the TV because it makes me cry and feel a little sick.&lt;br /&gt;I think what makes me feel the most horrible about this is that I could see myself being there, doing all the same things. Usually news seems very distant to me and I feel bad for people, but it doesn't actually affect me. For example, there was a big story just before we left NYC about a young girl who went out to a night club and was raped and killed that night. It didn't scare me because she did so many things wrong that night. She had to call an ambulance for her friend, then left her because she was afraid of getting in trouble for drinking (never leave a man behind!). She got in a car with a bouncer she'd met that night because he said he would help her. I'm not trying to say she deserved it (obviously not) I'm saying that particular scenario would never happen to me because I would never do those things.&lt;br /&gt;But the Kim family was going to stay at a lodge on the Oregon. Something I would love to do. They made a wrong turn. Something anyone could do. Their cell phones, which we all rely on so much, wouldn't work out there. The police say they did everything right. And still James Kim died, trying to save his family.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116559707935587192?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116559707935587192/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116559707935587192&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116559707935587192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116559707935587192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/12/saddest-news.html' title='The Saddest News'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116312886693768958</id><published>2006-11-09T22:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T22:21:06.953-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That Warm Holiday Spirit</title><content type='html'>Yesterday my boss sent around an email saying that everyone has to work overtime either over the Thanksgiving weekend OR Christmas weekend. But on Monday, the day I started, I had sent him an email telling him, sorry, I already bought tickets for both holidays and will be gone for many extra days each time.&lt;br /&gt;I'm getting away with this AGAIN! Mmwha haha!&lt;br /&gt;So maybe I'm kind of screwing everyone else over, but then again not everyone has the manic need that Joe and I do about going home for certain holidays. Anyways, they get paid overtime.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116312886693768958?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116312886693768958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116312886693768958&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116312886693768958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116312886693768958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/11/that-warm-holiday-spirit.html' title='That Warm Holiday Spirit'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116260024499261482</id><published>2006-11-03T19:16:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-03T19:30:45.070-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy and Unhappy Rejections of All Kinds</title><content type='html'>For DAYS now I have not been able to log into Blogger. Sorry all. I don't know if it is a fluke in Blogger or my computer--which, I must say, is looking worse for the wear. In addition to funky grinding noises, it turns out my keyboard files are corrupted so I can no longer disconnect the external keyboard and use the laptop keyboard, which sort of defeats the purpose of having a laptop.&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, I live with a computer programmer. Soon I'll get him to fix it.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, what I've been itching to put up is an email I received last week:&lt;br /&gt;Jasmine,&lt;br /&gt;        My name is John O'Neill, editor of Black Gate magazine.  Last month Black Gate's managing editor, Howard Andrew Jones, forwarded a copy of your story "Her Own Accord" to me, part of a very small handful passed along for serious consideration for publication.&lt;br /&gt;         First I'd like to thank you for your exceptional patience with us.  Please accept my apologies for holding your story so long as we clear away our substantial submissions backlog.  It really is inexcusable.&lt;br /&gt;         I was very impressed with your story, which I found very well written.  But it's too bleak for Black Gate, I'm afraid.  I'm afraid I'll have to return it, with genuine regrets.&lt;br /&gt;         We've worked hard this fall to improve our response times, and I hope you'll try us again.&lt;br /&gt;Warm regards,&lt;br /&gt;- John&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, before you ask what's so great about being rejected by a respected, well-paying magazine, let me refer you to the first line of the email. He's the EDITOR. Only 1 or 2% of all stories (I made that number up) ever make it through the slushpile to the editor, and it sounds like I just barely missed it. It is a rather depressing story, so I can hardly blame them. So I thanked him and fired off a less bleak story back at them, then found a "dark" magazine to send this one to again. &lt;br /&gt;My Big Interview I had last week I thought went really well. I loved the company, and I wasn't nervous at all. I bought a brand-new suit jacket to wear and even had it tailored. &lt;br /&gt;Two days later they called me up and said, nope, I didn't get it. In fact, they were so kind as to inform me that I came in sixth out of six applicants. What was the point of that? Kicking me while I'm down. Apparently the guy (it's always a guy!) they did hire was a DP (i.e. camera guy) with "years" of experience in the Bay Area. How can I compete with that? I don't have years of experience in anything.&lt;br /&gt;So that afternoon I called Multivision and I start there Monday. It will be nice to have a paycheck again. It was time to suck it up, and it will be interesting to explore Oakland, anyways, though I'm not excited to spend $5.50 a day on public transportation. &lt;br /&gt;We finally bought our Christmas Plane Tickets to Green Bay! (Mom, I tried to email the itinerary to you, but your inbox is FULL. What's up with that?) Joe and I looked for hours Wednesday night and couldn't find anything under $650. That's right. So I said we'd have to just wait and see if they added more flights or figure out something else. I had nightmares about it that night! The next day an affordable flight popped up and I bought it on the spot. Luke, Joe and I will be in Wisconsin for almost a week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116260024499261482?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116260024499261482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116260024499261482&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116260024499261482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116260024499261482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/11/happy-and-unhappy-rejections-of-all.html' title='Happy and Unhappy Rejections of All Kinds'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116129383764003238</id><published>2006-10-19T17:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T17:37:17.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Le Sigh</title><content type='html'>I've been emailing this HR guy about a job the past few days, and I really really want it now. It seems perfect, both corporate and production work. I'm pulling out all the stops when I email him, trying to make myself look like the best candidate without actually lying. This job seems like it might be a little bit over my head, but that's GOOD. I would like a job that I can grow INTO for once, instead of OUT of within a few months. Is it any wonder I keep job-hopping?&lt;br /&gt;Plus, I can't keep doing this. It's not just the running out of money, it's the fact that applying for jobs constantly (and being roundly rejected and ignored by them) is draining on your brain. I can't focus. I make mistakes. I apply for dog-grooming jobs (better than people-grooming, I guess. Ick.). I LIKE working. I want to be doing something. Even semi-boring jobs usually have something to teach me.&lt;br /&gt;Please let this be the one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116129383764003238?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116129383764003238/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116129383764003238&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116129383764003238'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116129383764003238'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/le-sigh.html' title='Le Sigh'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116121968517349274</id><published>2006-10-18T21:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-18T21:01:25.193-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Libraries Make Me Giddy</title><content type='html'>I am absolultely TEARING through books. I normally read fast, and often read three books at a time, but this is unprecedented. I would say that I haven't read this much since I was a teenager, except when I was a teenager I didn't have access to such a large public library. &lt;br /&gt;Maybe that summer I spent in Duluth. I only worked part-time, had exactly one friend, and their public library was ENORMOUS, and only a bike ride away. Here it is only a few blocks away. &lt;br /&gt;When I was between the ages of about 7-17, my parents and teachers had difficulty keeping up with me. I had already toasted the school library (the "Public Library" consisted of a few shelves within the school library) and we didn't have a ton of money to keep buying books. &lt;br /&gt;Still, remember those book clubs in grade school? The teacher would hand out a little two page catalog, and you'd come back the next week and put in your order, then the next month the books would arrive at school and the teacher would hand it out. My class would always get two small boxes: one for me, and one for the rest of the kids. Seriously. I have a very distinct memory of a teacher passing out books to everyone else, then looking at the second box and just putting it on my desk without opening it because I was the only one left who hadn't gotten her books. I'm sure there was some eye-rolling among the other kids. I'm also pretty sure my mom always bought at least a few of the back page clearance books, no matter how tight money was, just to put words in my hands. I've always been grateful for that.&lt;br /&gt;I'll always be grateful, too, to my maternal grandmother for handing me "Carrie" when I was just nine years old. She helped alleviate this dearth of books, plus helped to develop my twisted imagination early on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116121968517349274?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116121968517349274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116121968517349274&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116121968517349274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116121968517349274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/big-libraries-make-me-giddy.html' title='Big Libraries Make Me Giddy'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116097806017854775</id><published>2006-10-16T01:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-16T01:54:20.193-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Weekend Alone</title><content type='html'>Weekends alone can be nice, though I usually appreciate them more when I don't spend all my DAYS alone as well. Still, I did lots of cool things, most notably attending the LitQuake LitCrawl Saturday night. They set it up like a pub crawl, by making a whole bunch of readings take place within a few blocks of each other in the Mission over the course of a night. &lt;br /&gt;Next year I hope they add more readings and more time slots, since every reading was WAY crowded. I magically got a good seat at every one, though.&lt;br /&gt;The best was Pat Murphy's essay she read at the Borderlands scifi reading. It was all about becoming the Marketing Director for The Crucible. The best part was that I had been looking over the fall class schedule for The Crucible, mooning over a jewelery making class in December that I can't afford to take. If I don't get a job soon, maybe I'll just ask someone to buy me an early Christmas present! (such as people who go to Las Vegas to lose money...)&lt;br /&gt;Joe is in Vegas, and last time I spoke with him, he was desparately trying to drag Alex away from the tables to go eat sushi. He said they can't afford to lose any more money! (As though they can afford to lose any? As long as they're having fun...)&lt;br /&gt;Friday night Megan (who just moved here from Wisconsin!) and I saw the "live billboard performance" in the Mission. Basically interpretive dancers strung from ropes and harnesses, dancing on a billboard thirty feet in the air, expressing how horribly women are still portrayed in the media. &lt;br /&gt;Then Sunday I went to the Japanese Tea Garden with Christy and her friends from out of town. It's just what I expected, tea near a waterfall and gardens. Ahh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116097806017854775?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116097806017854775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116097806017854775&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116097806017854775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116097806017854775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/weekend-alone.html' title='A Weekend Alone'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116078831222741799</id><published>2006-10-13T20:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-13T21:11:52.250-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Anniversary Part 2</title><content type='html'>After packing up our new coffeetable, we headed to our next vineyard, called "Ridge". It is literally at the top of a mountain. We made our way slowly up the winding road, feeling a bit hungry (I actually felt a bit whoopsy from the sharp corners) but excited by the views. In places, the road was only wide enough for one car. &lt;br /&gt;The Ridge tasting room was more formal than the other one, but they had a couple of good wines. In fact, Joe and I bought our very first "age-able" wine there. It is a 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon blend. It will be "ripe" for drinking in 2011. It would taste good now, but will taste amazing then. Since we don't have anything resembling a wine cellar, this is somewhat of an experiment. We're hoping that San Francisco weather is cool and humid enough on its own to keep the wine from going bad. Guess we'll see in 5 years!&lt;br /&gt;Ridge is a great place to have a picnic, except for the hornets swarming everywhere. I'm not usually afraid of bugs, but there is something about big hornets that make me jump up and run for the hills.&lt;br /&gt;We headed back down the mountain to our hotel in Los Gatos. Los Gatos is an adorable little town, and our hotel room was really nice, with our own little balcony (facing the parking lot, but still). We had some snacks in the bar, then went out to explore the area a little bit. It is full of cute shops and restaurants. The window of an art gallery caught our eye as well. They had a display of Markus Pierson originals, and I swear if I had an extra $5000, I would buy &lt;a href="http://www.peabodyfineart.com/pierson/pier10382.htm"&gt;this one&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;We went back to the hotel to read on the balcony and then get ready for dinner. Joe had tried to get reservations at Manressa, the fanciest, only-two-Michelin-starred restaurant in town, but it proved to be difficult. Instead we went to Cafe Marcella, supposedly the best Italian food in Los Gatos.&lt;br /&gt;It turned out to be some of the tastiest food I've ever had. Honestly, at least for the price. I got crab risotto and Joe had asparagus soup for an appetizer. Then, when our entrees were taking a long time to come out of the very busy kitchen, the waiter felt bad and turned our "glasses of wine" into "bottomless glasses of wine." Even at the end of our meal, after dessert, he came by and filled them up. Our entrees were delicious, fish in an amazing tomato-basil-butter sauce and duck confit. For dessert I got a raspberry tart and Joe got warm bread pudding, both of which were really above and beyond. Our waiter, though he got sweatier and more crazed as the night went on, was really cool.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we had a tasty but small and simple breakfast at the popular local breakfast joint. At 9 am on a Sunday, Los Gatos is FILLED with people. It's insane. Everyone gets up to go jogging, and then goes to breakfast or to the farmer's market, all of which we did. Well, except the jogging, of course. &lt;br /&gt;Then we had some tough decisions to make. Go to more vineyards, or head back into San Fran to see the Blue Angels air show? We decided on the show, and boy was it worth it. We sat on a hillside in Fort Mason, facing the water right about where the Blue Angels do their death-defying, 100-mile-an-hour near-misses of each other. It was very cool and they're so LOUD! Very exciting.&lt;br /&gt;To finish off our weekend, we HAULED BUTT down to Golden Gate Park to catch the very last performance of the Bluegrass Festival (which we originally didn't know about, or we might have stayed in town for it. Oh well, next year...) which was EmmyLou Harris. We were way at the back, but the whole place was so relaxed and happy, and we both love her music. It was a wonderful end to a wonderful weekend, for a wonderful two years.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116078831222741799?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116078831222741799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116078831222741799&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116078831222741799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116078831222741799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/happy-anniversary-part-2.html' title='Happy Anniversary Part 2'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116052958915796867</id><published>2006-10-10T13:43:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T21:19:49.246-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Anniversary to Us</title><content type='html'>Last week was my and Joe's 2nd Anniversary and we celebrated by getting the heck out of the city! Joe planned it all, only revealing hints about what we were going to do. I suspected we would leave SF, and I also suspected we would go to wine country, but that's all.&lt;br /&gt;Friday night we stayed in SF. We went to dinner at Ana Mandara's, a beautiful Vietnemese restaurant right on the water near Fisherman's Wharf. The inside looks like a lush movie set, and the food was delicious. Joe gave me my present, which was the first season of Battlestar Galactica (score!) on DVD.&lt;br /&gt;We tasted some wine at a little shop in Ghiradelli Square to kill some time, then sat on the stone steps leading out to the water, waiting for Fleet Week fireworks. It was a beautiful night out, and Joe gave me a second present, which was a box of chocolate truffles. My favorite, I wonder how he knew?&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately the fireworks were on the east bay, not the north where we were, and because of the cloud cover we couldn't see them at all. We started to walk towards them, but on the way found a cool bar where an Irish band was playing, so we decided to abandon fireworks for that.&lt;br /&gt;The next morning we got up bright and early, packed overnight bags, and went to breakfast at Sears Fine Foods in Union Square. They're famous for their 18 tiny Swedish pancakes dish, which I got, along with lots of coffee. &lt;br /&gt;The next suprise was...our Avis rental car! We picked it up, Joe handed me directions, and off we went! Turns out we were headed for the Santa Cruz Mountain wine region (Napa being swamped at this time of year). It's about 45 minutes away, not counting the time we spent lost among the steep and twisting back country roads. &lt;br /&gt;The first vineyard/winery we went to was Cooper-Garrod Vineyards in Saratoga. The owner himself gave us an hour long tour that was very good. He taught us things about the area, and the history of that particular vineyard. We got a free tasting of their wines, though I didn't love most of them. We did buy an interesting 2000 Claret, though. They also run a horse stable and we watched some of the students practice doing tricks on horseback, which was pretty neat (though scary, since most of them appeared to be eight-year-old girls on the brink of falling off and being crushed).&lt;br /&gt;On the way to the next vineyard, we passed an estate sale. Since we actually had a car and we saw some furniture for sale, we decided to stop. It was more of a rummage sale coop, really, but we found a neat old coal bucket and a coffee table. The coffee table is extra long, and a little beat up, but it was only $15 and we managed to fit it in the car by laying the seats down. The wood inlay along the sides is beautiful. The center of it is what I at first took to be plastic. I thought it was like those plastic countertops that are made to look like marble. Nope. It's marble. Unless they make fake marble so heavy even Joe can't lift it on his own. Luckily the center piece comes out so we could carry it together.&lt;br /&gt;To be continued...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116052958915796867?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116052958915796867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116052958915796867&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116052958915796867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116052958915796867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/happy-anniversary-to-us.html' title='Happy Anniversary to Us'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116007692594965740</id><published>2006-10-05T15:33:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T15:35:25.966-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fleet Week is Here!</title><content type='html'>Fighter Jets have started roaring over our house constantly, so low that sometimes I can read the lettering on their sides from my bedroom window.&lt;br /&gt;Fisherman's Wharf is in chaos. It will take my brother two hours to get to work in that mess, but he'll probably make buckets of money because of it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116007692594965740?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116007692594965740/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116007692594965740&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116007692594965740'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116007692594965740'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/fleet-week-is-here.html' title='Fleet Week is Here!'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-116002307485532143</id><published>2006-10-05T00:36:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-05T00:37:54.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>An Evening with Mr. Gaiman</title><content type='html'>Last night I hopped the BART on up to Berkley to see Neil Gaiman read. He was absolutely delightful, not to mention hilarious. &lt;br /&gt;As I stood in line outside the theater, I tried to remember why I like Neil Gaiman so much. Partly, yes, it's because everyone else likes him. He's become a sci-fi cultural icon. He got famous for Sandman, which I haven't read enough of to be able to call myself a fan, and then solidified it with American Gods, which I honestly didn't even like all that much. Of course, his writing for TV is brilliant. But what I remember the most is when I finished Wolves in the Walls. I was gasping. I've never read a children's book (at least, not as an adult) that delighted me so much. I loved Coraline too.&lt;br /&gt;The reading was held in a theater, and you had to buy a ticket to get in, though it got you 20% off an already-signed book. Neil explained later that last time he read in Berkley, he was still there at 2 a.m., signing, so they decided to try it this way.&lt;br /&gt;His stories were amazing, and his voice rolls through them in such a way that you have to pay attention. Afterwards, I heard groups of people standing around gushing about his voice. The owner of Comic Relief, who held an after party, said that every time he reads a Gaiman story, he hears Neil's voice inside his head. I think it's also because his stories lend themselves to being read outloud. They are bedtime stories, even the scary ones.&lt;br /&gt;The funniest part of the night, though, was the Q &amp; A. Audience members wrote questions on index cards ahead of time, and then he had intended to go through and pick out the ones he wanted to answer. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to do this, so he just chose from the top and read outloud, answering each question seriously.&lt;br /&gt;My favorite:&lt;br /&gt;"Dear Mr. Gaiman, Number one, you are swell." Neil looks up, smiles and says, "Gee thanks. Number two, if you could chose how you die, what would it be?"&lt;br /&gt;I believe his answer was, "the heat of the universe." Don't quote me on that though. The accent throws me off sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;I went to Comic Relief afterwards for wine and cheese and of course ended up buying a comic book (as though I have money to burn.) But there is a dog, a cat and a bunny on the cover. IN SPACESUITS!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-116002307485532143?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/116002307485532143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=116002307485532143&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116002307485532143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/116002307485532143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/10/evening-with-mr-gaiman.html' title='An Evening with Mr. Gaiman'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115949292201401833</id><published>2006-09-28T21:05:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-28T21:22:02.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'>BSG 3</title><content type='html'>I like TV. I like most things on TV, just because they're on TV. &lt;br /&gt;I like Science Fiction and Fantasy. I will read/watch almost anthing involving SF &amp; F just because I'll always like it.&lt;br /&gt;Almost everyone has "their shows." Shows they will not answer the phone during and shows that you always eat dinner in front of if the two coincide. Shows that you call up your best friend to tape if you're out of town. I've had quite a few of those. The X-Files, Gilmore Girls, Seaquest (back in the day) and I'm sure plenty more. &lt;br /&gt;I've never really understood people who get obsessed with certain shows though. I mean, they're just TV, folks, and not usually that great of TV either. "Trekkies" are the classic example. Even with my love of sci fi, I didn't get it. Why would you want to dress up like these people, collect postage stamps with the characters faces on it, or fly across the country to attend a convention with other people who also obviously have too little of a life and too much money? They write academic papers about Star Trek, or Xena, or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. People write fanfic, which seems silly to me because that's time I could spend writing my "real" fiction. And to me, it always seemed like people just decided they wanted to associate themselves with something for comfort, or to feel unique or accepted, or to have something to put on a knick-knack shelf in your house. &lt;br /&gt;Until, that is, I found Battlestar Galactica.&lt;br /&gt;I wake up in the morning and want to breathe and eat Battlestar Galactica (or BSG, as it's known) all day long. I've never actually thought about a TV show between episode before, but I can't get it out of my head. When we were watching Seasons 1 and 2, Joe and I would watch 2 or 3 episodes a night, staying up until 2 a.m. sometimes. I dream I'm on the Galactica. I lie awake in bed, seething over Admiral Cain's injustices. I make up for myself what happens between episodes, or with minor characters. I'm considering writing fanfic.&lt;br /&gt;The second season was split up into two parts: Season 2 and season 2.5. Joe and I weren't caught up enough to watch 2.5 on TV, so we waited breathlessly for the September 19th release of the DVD. We've finished them all already.&lt;br /&gt;And at the end of the final episode of 2.5, I actually jumped up and screamed "YES! STARBUCK IS BACK!" I knew she was gonna say that!!!&lt;br /&gt;Which is nothing compared to the ending of the cliffhanger between season 2 and 2.5. I think I cried, or just curled into a ball, whimpering "nonononono." Someone had to die in that one. Maybe that's why this latest cliffhanger is easier to take. I can't even imagine what's going to happen or why the Cylons are back. Or maybe it's because I know I'll have my answer when Season 3 starts on Oct. 6th. Yeah baby! We're caught up!&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if I can rig myself a Colonial Fleet uniform in time for Halloween?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115949292201401833?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115949292201401833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115949292201401833&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115949292201401833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115949292201401833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/09/bsg-3.html' title='BSG 3'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115922541782176134</id><published>2006-09-25T18:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-25T19:03:37.836-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Being San Francisco-ish</title><content type='html'>This weekend there was a lot going on in San Fran. The love parade, moved here from Berlin, apparantly, was Saturday. We fully intended to go, but we just kept on finding other things to do first (it didn't help that we found Disc 2 of Season 2.5 of Battlestar Galactica at the video store) so we never made it.&lt;br /&gt;Sunday was the Folsom Street Fair, San Francisco's S &amp; M fair. Now THAT we made it to. We were couch shopping, originally, and we found some possibilities but decided we weren't ready to buy yet. We got on a bus where we saw 2 people dressed in leather with their butts completely showing. I wasn't shocked until the girl decided to sit down on a bus seat. Gross. For her and for the rest of us.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, then at least we knew where to get off. We followed the naked-butt people. &lt;br /&gt;The fair is VERY San Francisco. They don't do this kind of stuff in New York, that's for sure. There was a transsexual man who was doing a dance to a Madonna medley (very well done, by the way), food stands, merchandise (ahem) stands, and of course, lots of leather and lots of nudity. We weren't the only non-dressed-up people there, at least. There are plenty of tourists with fanny packs and cameras as the $5 entrance fee is not too steep for the casual gawker.&lt;br /&gt;It's long too. We had planned to go down one side, then back up the other, but by the time we reached the end, we were beat (no pun intended). Besides, we figured we wouldn't see anything we hadn't seen already (probaly not true, though).&lt;br /&gt;I'm very glad we went. Our $5 went to an AIDS awareness charity, and it was the beginning of starting to understand these very non-New-York people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115922541782176134?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115922541782176134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115922541782176134&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115922541782176134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115922541782176134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/09/being-san-francisco-ish.html' title='Being San Francisco-ish'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115861565844559856</id><published>2006-09-18T17:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T17:40:58.463-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Furniture-less</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Joe and I cleaned the apartment and reveled in how much we love it. Big (at least comparatively) kitchen; big, sunny living room with a gorgeous HDTV; big bedroom with a bed and closets, and more.&lt;br /&gt;It was nice having Luke and Aliza here for a while, though. They made us sushi one night, then we all played Euchre together. Another night we watched Shrek just because it looked so good on the new TV. I miss those everyday "hanging out" times.&lt;br /&gt;However, our revelry didn't last long. Because while they moved all their stuff out Saturday, we still had the furniture. Then today those jerks came and took their furniture back! How dare they! We have nothing to sit on, no table, and the TV is on the floor. I must go scour craigslist to find us SOMETHING.&lt;br /&gt;We did, however, get a TV tray table for $1 at the flea market on Saturday. Also a clock painted by a homeless man, a picnic basket, and a groovy Victorian looking necklace for me. No real furniture though.&lt;br /&gt;I applied for some really cool jobs today. However, sometimes I make tiny little mistakes. Like one job ad told me to include my "salary requirements." I forgot to put it in my email, because I'm a space case sometimes. If all my skills match the job, they might call me anyways. It seems like such a little thing, not a big deal, right? Then again, maybe they'll think, man, she can't even follow simple instructions. Why would we trust her with our online video department?&lt;br /&gt;Get it together, girl!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115861565844559856?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115861565844559856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115861565844559856&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115861565844559856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115861565844559856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/09/furniture-less.html' title='Furniture-less'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115750315388305998</id><published>2006-09-05T20:38:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-05T20:39:13.896-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Secret Bars</title><content type='html'>We went to a secret bar Sunday night. It is a plain brown door on a random corner in the worst part of town. You ring a doorbell and they let you in to drink some of the most amazing drinks you've ever tasted. My favorite involved gin, basil, apple juice and other things I cannot remember.&lt;br /&gt;Also, we bought a bed. No more air mattress!&lt;br /&gt;We had a nice day in Oakland on Saturday at their Art &amp; Soul Festival. We saw Calexico, sampled local Oakland food, saw some cool lady drummers, ate a giant Italian sausage (jokes to yourself please!) and saw a welding and glassmaking demonstration that has nearly convinced me to take a jewelery/metalworking class from them in Oakland.&lt;br /&gt;Job: Nada. The Stanford people are ignoring me. I am considering calling Multivision.&lt;br /&gt;Writing: Some work on the new novel. My bro is so stoked about getting to read the finished version of the first novel that he is picking up a new ink cartridge for me on the way to work. Nice.&lt;br /&gt;Having a table and a desk helps me focus more on writing (my back doesn't hurt after ten minutes of sitting on the floor). However having my bro and his roomie crash here for the past week takes a lot of that away. Still, it's kind of nice to have them around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115750315388305998?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115750315388305998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115750315388305998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115750315388305998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115750315388305998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/09/secret-bars.html' title='Secret Bars'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115680378772745562</id><published>2006-08-28T18:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-28T18:23:07.750-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jobby Jobs</title><content type='html'>So today I spent HOURS searching for jobs, and I actually found a lot of stuff that I'm interested in. Of course, they have to be interested in me back, but that's another issue. &lt;br /&gt;I found one job ad that was all cheeky, like "tired of being left in the technological dust" and "we never sleep here, so you can always sleep on the floor." Stuff like that. So of course I made my cover letter just as cheeky right back. "Dear Team Who Never Sleeps (because "Human Resources" sounds stupid..." And of course they wrote back to me ten minutes later, interested. And of course they are located in Stanford. Which is, what, an hour and a half away? By car? Which I do not have?&lt;br /&gt;Still, I would commute to Idaho to finally get a job I love at a company I love, so I'm just going to roll with it for a while. We'll see.&lt;br /&gt;On the writing front, I've finally filled in all those unfinished patches, and am now attempting to print it out to have Luke read it. Attempting, because my catridge faded halfway through the 166 pages. Punk.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115680378772745562?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115680378772745562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115680378772745562&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115680378772745562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115680378772745562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/jobby-jobs.html' title='Jobby Jobs'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115577702304138150</id><published>2006-08-16T20:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T21:10:23.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Closets</title><content type='html'>The last days of our trip, the short version:&lt;br /&gt;Crazy Driving: corkscrew curves, smashed between the sparkling Pacific Ocean and towering tree-covered California mountains. Beautiful, less sickening than I would anticipate, and Joe drove most of the way.&lt;br /&gt;Big Sur: we couldn't find the trails. We ended up walking through an overcrowded campground for most of the time, making me exceedingly frustrated. At last we got away a little, and found some redwoods, which we huge, but small by comparison to what we will see someday in Sequoia National Forest.&lt;br /&gt;Monterrey: we got the last crappy, overpriced yet affordable room in the whole city. Actually, it was north of the city in Marina, but no matter--we were 2 blocks from the beach. We sat and watched our first California sunset on the cooling sand, then had a terrible dinner at a frightening place called AJ Spurs. Overpriced meat, too much food, terrible service, and half-hearted servers singing "Happy Birthday" to someone every five minutes. The only good part were the free root beer floats.&lt;br /&gt;Now, a week and a half later, I am sitting in an extended stay hotel in San Bruno, a half hour south of SF. Joe and I are waiting for Christy to get home to drive us to move some of our stuff into our new apartment. I can't wait to be settled. Hopefully we'll get our boxes of books on Friday. It would be nice to fill our giant empty apartment with SOMETHING. It's funny--in San Francisco they have these extra little rooms off every room in an apartment--sometimes two. They call them "closets." In NYC we call that a second bedroom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115577702304138150?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115577702304138150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115577702304138150&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115577702304138150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115577702304138150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/closets.html' title='Closets'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115532186778060246</id><published>2006-08-11T14:30:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-11T14:44:27.796-04:00</updated><title type='text'>California</title><content type='html'>After the Grand Canyon, it was finally time to head into California. Somehow we managed to time it just right to hit rush hour in L.A. on a Friday afternoon, but we were still OK. Joe drove and I navigated. We took the long way around the city so we didn't have to go THROUGH the city. Then we were on Highway 101.&lt;br /&gt;When you're still in the L.A. area, you can't see much ocean yet. We were trying to get as far away as we could, but 101 is still running mostly west at that point, so we were blinded by the sun. Besides we were exhausted. Suddenly a mini golf course loomed on the horizon, dominated by a ten foot tall Cinderella-like castle. &lt;br /&gt;"Oooh!" Joe and I looked at each other. "Should we stop?"&lt;br /&gt;We considered. Probably not, we decided. We should try to get a lot farther tonight.&lt;br /&gt;We looked at each other again. "Well?"&lt;br /&gt;"I think I'm taking this exit," Joe said.&lt;br /&gt;"I think I saw a Motel 6 back there too," I said.&lt;br /&gt;It took us a while to find mini golf again, and even longer to find the Motel 6 (there were only 5 rooms left when we got there!!!), but it was totally worth it. We relaxed, played mini golf and skee ball, ate sushi, and slept well in our barely adequate, leaky AC, Motel 6 room.&lt;br /&gt;When we discovered that we had barely gotten a room here, we decided we should really reserve something ahead of time if we wanted to spend the next night near Monterey. So we started calling hotels from our AAA books.&lt;br /&gt;Sold out, sold out, sold out, we have just one standard room left.&lt;br /&gt;"Really? How much?"&lt;br /&gt;"$225."&lt;br /&gt;I nearly fainted. We were on the verge of deciding to wake up at 5 a.m. and drive straight through until San Francisco, when Joe discovered that Motel 6 kept a book of all their hotels in the room. We called up the Marina location (just outside of Monterey) and got one of THEIR last rooms. &lt;br /&gt;Whew.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow: Monterey, Big Sur, Crazy Driving&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115532186778060246?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115532186778060246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115532186778060246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115532186778060246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115532186778060246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/california.html' title='California'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115501379338094780</id><published>2006-08-08T00:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-08T01:09:53.396-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Canyon So Grand</title><content type='html'>We arrived at Grand Canyon Park later than we had hoped--about 1 in the afternoon--then had to wait in line at the entrance for a half hour before we could even drive in. $25 just for us to get in! Not so bad, I suppose, since that's the only fee.&lt;br /&gt;It's very confusing when you first arrive there. We parked in the first spot we found, not even sure if we could stay there, took a few pictures from a vantage point there and thought, what now?&lt;br /&gt;At that point, Joe was not particularly happy, being hungry, confused, and less optimistic than me that we would figure everything out. So we sat down and ate our Arby's sandwiches on a bench (the best view I've ever had for a picnic by the way, though the Colusseum in Rome is a close second). Then I tore apart half the trunk to find Joe's sneakers, slathered us both with gobs of sunblock, and headed towards the Vistor's Center where a nice forest ranger explained everything to us.&lt;br /&gt;First we hiked 2.5 miles along the Rim Trail, the easiest hike in the park. The Grand Canyon is amazing (obviously) but still feels distant, like I'm looking at a computer generated backdrop. There aren't a lot of safety fences there--they like to keep it very raw. You can go right up to the edge and if you trip, you're screwed. The Canyon is ten miles long and about a mile across (I think) and the most beautiful part is the individual rock formations. They are so unique and are on such a large scale that they are breathtaking.&lt;br /&gt;Next we went a little ways down Blue Angel Trail. This is the easiest trail to take that goes below the rim. We didn't want to go too far because it was pretty hot out, and I don't take well to heat. Besides, neither of us is exactly in tip-top shape, and the altitude makes breathing even harder. So we meandered down the trail a bit, already feeling the heat. There is mule poop all over the trail, but I didn't get to see any mules. Boo. However we did see Indian Rock Paintings, ancient red paintings of deer high above us on the rock cliff. The Grand Canyon was inhabited by Native Americans for thousands of years until the bastard white people threw them out to make it a national park. We took it easy walking back up, stopping the shade to drink lots of water. We saw one middle-aged man sitting on a rock sweating and gasping and rubbing his legs while two women hovered worriedly around him. They said he needed electrolytes and eventually some people walked by and offered him their Gatorade (which we didn't have or we would have gladly given it). I don't understand the mechanics of dehydration completely, but I know that water isn't enough. You need salt and electrolytes too.&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we took the free shuttle bus (okay, I supposed that's where our $25 goes, and it's totally worth it) out to the farthest end we could get to--Hermit's Point. The ride was really neat. From there we could finally see the Colorado River, which I know is huge, but just looks like a tiny brown ribbon at the bottom of the Canyon. At the point you can see the Canyon laid out in all its glory, almost end to end.&lt;br /&gt;We decided to stay for sunset. We wanted to avoid most of the craziness though, so we stayed away from the most popular spots and just went out on a point near our car. It was very cool, the way the setting sun hits the cliffs all slanty, highlighting each ridge, though it wasn't life-changing or anything, probably due to our less-than-great spot and a lot of clouds. Christy says that sunrise is even better, but we didn't know yet where we were spending the night and besides, I managed to lose our receipt for re-entry, so we would have had to pay again.&lt;br /&gt;The Best Western we'd hoped to stay in was sold out, but we managed to find a room at the Red Feather Inn that was even cheaper anyways. Still more expensive than going back to Flagstaff for a room, but worth it to have a relaxing night of watching zombie movies after a hard day of hiking. I only got sunburned on my legs a little and got a little heat rash (aka flesh-eating disease) on my hands. &lt;br /&gt;All in all, our "winging it" has been working well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115501379338094780?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115501379338094780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115501379338094780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115501379338094780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115501379338094780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/canyon-so-grand.html' title='Canyon So Grand'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115492824368528573</id><published>2006-08-07T01:15:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-07T01:24:03.700-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Heart New Mexico</title><content type='html'>Well, we've arrive safe and sound in San Francisco, but I'm going to pick up where I left off in...New Mexico. &lt;br /&gt;It is beautiful there, and out of all the states we visited, it is the one I would most like to return to. I was amazing by the landscape...red, rocky outcroppings, trees, canyons popping up around corners. We stopped quickly in Albuquerque (is that how you spell that?) to eat some tasty burritos, then stopped at "the cave of fire and ice." We had to drive 20 miles in the backcountry of New Mexico until we got onto Indian land. The "fire" part is an ancient volcano crater, a half a mile across. You hike up and up until you can look over this giant, dizzying hole. The path we walked on was covered with lava, and you can see the path the lava took 10,000 years ago from up there.&lt;br /&gt;The "ice" part was a cave, just 30 feet or so below the surface, where it never gets above 31 degrees. It is part of a collapsed lava tube. The ice on the bottom is twenty feet thick and would be even thicker except the people in that area used to chop blocks out of it to keep their food cold! No one knows how it started, but the ice that's already there helps it stay that cold.&lt;br /&gt;We saw some little lizards on the way back and learned about the trees in the area, which are very cool, though prone to being hit by lightning because of the iron in the lava rocks around them. &lt;br /&gt;The Zuni Pueblos were just 30 minutes away, but we didn't have time to go see them. That will be number one on my list for when we return!&lt;br /&gt;We stayed in Gallup that night. All in all, wonderful people in New Mexico.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow: Canyon, Grand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115492824368528573?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115492824368528573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115492824368528573&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115492824368528573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115492824368528573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/i-heart-new-mexico.html' title='I Heart New Mexico'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115457382728596262</id><published>2006-08-02T22:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T22:57:07.340-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oklahoma!</title><content type='html'>Now, while Kansas is disgusting in its boringness, Oklahoma is actually rather stunning in its starkness. The soil turns red and rocky. Oil machines dotted the fields in one area. At first we thought they might be irrigation machines, since they were only 10 feet tall or so, but then we saw them in fields that had no crops. Those huge, huge energy generating windmills lined the highways too. We guessed they are 120 feet tall or more. Those windmills always freak me out. I imagine that when the apocalypse comes and the world end, those arms will just keep on turning, even when there are no more humans.&lt;br /&gt;We blasted past Oklahoma City to a cute little town called El Reno. Sid's in El Reno is famous for making onion-fried burgers. They take a ball of ground hamburger, thwack! it onto the grill, smush it flat, then drop a handful of sliced onions on top of it. They press the onions into the meat and fry it up crisp. It was one of the biggest suprises of the trip. Who knew non-rare burgers could be so delicous? The waitress was really nice too.&lt;br /&gt;"So," she says, as soon as we order, "where y'all from?" &lt;br /&gt;"New York."&lt;br /&gt;"Y'all must have a book to know what to order." We laughed and told her we had "Road Food." They get a lot of out of towner from being featured in a few books. &lt;br /&gt;We pressed on to Amarillo, TX. Texas is amazing, sweeping expanses of grasslands. We saw the second largest cross in North America. There are lots and lots of "Jesus Loves You" type signs here, both handpainted and purchased by organizations. Lots of bumper stickers too. It is vastly different from New York, and even different from Wisconsin. &lt;br /&gt;By the time we got to Amarillo, we were exhausted. We considered going to the Big Texan where they have the 72 oz steak and a limo with steer horns on the front to pick you up for free. But instead we bought a six-pack of Lonestar at the Shell station and ate dinner at the IHOP. &lt;br /&gt;We are moving slower lately. Stopping earlier and leaving later. We're having fun, but it does get tiring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115457382728596262?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115457382728596262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115457382728596262&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115457382728596262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115457382728596262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/oklahoma.html' title='Oklahoma!'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115449174903716407</id><published>2006-08-02T00:07:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-02T00:09:09.050-04:00</updated><title type='text'>We're not in Kansas anymore (thank God!)</title><content type='html'>Kansas is an awful, horrifically boring place, to the point of pain.&lt;br /&gt;Joe and I attempted to kill each other but were unsuccessful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115449174903716407?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115449174903716407/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115449174903716407&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115449174903716407'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115449174903716407'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/08/were-not-in-kansas-anymore-thank-god.html' title='We&apos;re not in Kansas anymore (thank God!)'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115439222017367399</id><published>2006-07-31T20:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-31T20:34:57.876-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goin' to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come</title><content type='html'>This morning we woke up at the crack of dawn (literally--I set the alarm wrong and I was in the shower already before either of us realized it was only 6 a.m.) and headed towards St. Louis, Missouri. Just outside of St. Louis is the tiny town of Collinsville, Illinois, home of the World's Largest Catsup bottle. That's right folks. The bottle itself is about forty feet tall, plus it stands on top of a tower several stories high. You drive through this tiny little idyllic neighborhood, go up a hill and as you go over, the bottle simply appears before you, looking at first like it is hovering over the trees. It stands over a former ketchup plant. We jumped out, took pictures, and then jumped back onto the road again to race to the next attraction, Cahokia Mounds. &lt;br /&gt;I accidentally spotted the Indian Mound site on the atlas and mentioned it to Joe, who had no idea what I meant by Indian Mounds, so we decided to go. It turns out that one of the mounds there, Monk's Mound, is the largest man-made earth contruction on this continent--even larger than mounds in Mexico. Cahokia was still a city of thousands of people in 1200 AD and the chief lived on top of Monk's Mound, which covers over 14 acres and is over 100 feet high. In the nearby burial mounds, archaeologists have excavated hundreds of bodies. It was very cool, but blisteringly hot, so we didn't actually climb Monk's Mound.&lt;br /&gt;We pressed on into St. Louis where traffic was nasty.  We had 2 possible food destinations: Ted Drewes frozen custard and C &amp; K BBQ. We decided to go for custard first, since it was a little out of the way and BBQ would be on our way out of the city. The custard was amazing. It is located on the old Route 66, so they get a lot of attention, but they live up to it. I got a Cardinal Sin Sundae--vanilla custard, hot fudge and tart cherries, while Joe got a Hawaiian concrete--vanilla custard, pineapple, coconut, and macademia nuts blended into a mixture so thick that they hand it to you upside down for effect. There was nowhere to sit that wasn't in the sun, so we stood off to the side of the order window and devoured them in minutes. Even then we couldn't keep up with the melting. We seem to be following the heat wave.&lt;br /&gt;Traffic had put us behind schedule, so we decided to forego St. Louis BBQ for lunch to be sure we didn't miss Kansas City BBQ for dinner. We made the right decision. Arthur Bryant's BBQ is the most famous BBQ in the country. It's in the warehouse district and is such a run-down plastic-chair kind of place that I wouldn't have even looked twice at it. Until I smelled it. We had a pulled pork sandwich, ribs, ham, baked beans, fries and a red cream soda. My favorite was the pulled pork, though I wasn't blown away by the ribs. I've had better. Same with the fries. But the rest of the meal made up for it. The ham was amazing. It was piled on white bread and it's perfect to dump their famous sauce all over. The restaurant was filled mostly with families and good-ole-boys, who sometimes sat down with more than one platter plus a pint of beans on the side.&lt;br /&gt;We're relaxing in a cheap hotel now, waiting for it to cool off enough to swim in the outdoor pool--the first time we'll have spent more than 8 hours at a hotel. Today was an amazing day, the best of the trip so far. Tomorrow we head into Kansas.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115439222017367399?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115439222017367399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115439222017367399&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115439222017367399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115439222017367399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/07/goin-to-kansas-city-kansas-city-here-i.html' title='Goin&apos; to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13884661.post-115431265518690060</id><published>2006-07-30T22:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-30T22:24:15.200-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Ate at the Nauti Mermaid</title><content type='html'>This morning we headed to Cleveland to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. It's beautiful, a glass pyramid on the shore of Lake Erie. It's somewhat pricey (counting parking, though my ancient student I.D. got me $2 off admission). It's intense in there. Music, movies, voices, displays come at you constantly. We saw outfits from David Bowie, Christina Aguilera, Prince, and more. We took our time through the special exhibit--two floors devoted to the life and work of Bob Dylan. I'm not much of a music person, but it was interesting to learn facts about him many people don't know. Like that he was born in Duluth, MN, and that he left MN to go to New York City to find his idol, Woody Guthrie. That's where it all began.&lt;br /&gt;After the museum, which got to be a bit much, we walked a few blocks to find the World's Largest Rubber Stamp. First of all, it's not really rubber. It's made out of aluminum. Second, I thought it would be about as tall as me, not forty feet high. We were strangely impressed by this corporate art-like monstrosity. The stamp says "FREE". Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;One thing we have learned about mid-sized mid-Western cities--they shut down on Sundays. Joe really wanted to go to a few nice, well-known restaurants, but every one of them was either closed or didn't open until 5 pm. We landed at one of the few open places we even saw, "The Nauti Mermaid." A nautical-themed (duh) restaurant/bar, they had good crabcakes and decent sandwiches. We were getting hungry and cranky enough to eat anything.&lt;br /&gt;Then we drove south to Columbus (stopping at a truck-stop so shady it was funny) and then west to Indianapolis, IN. Here we had a destination. Mug N Buns, a drive-in burger joint on the edge of town. We got majorly lost, which ended up not being a problem, since the streets were EMPTY. We just drove around until we found the right street. In the process, we got to see downtown and the rundown part of town under the El Train.&lt;br /&gt;Mug N Buns was glorious, the kind of place we dream of. Their rootbeer is homemade and their onion rings are hand-battered; both were stunning. We got a cheeseburger, which was fine, and a tenderloin, which is a CD-sized disc of pork breaded and deep-fried and put on a bun. I was good, though I don't know if I would eat it too often! We finished off with a chocolate malt and are now crashing at our decently priced, adequate hotel just a mile away from the restaurant. &lt;br /&gt;A shaky start of a day with a great finish. Tomorrow: Kansas City, MO&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13884661-115431265518690060?l=jazzannblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/feeds/115431265518690060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=13884661&amp;postID=115431265518690060&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115431265518690060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/13884661/posts/default/115431265518690060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://jazzannblog.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-ate-at-nauti-mermaid.html' title='I Ate at the Nauti Mermaid'/><author><name>Jazz</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
