SuperNanny
J: I can totally see it working – I could have little fake kids biting my ankles! And I’ll pull my hair in a bun and wear that purple outfit of hers. But what if people think I’m the Church Lady?
N: Yeah, plus I’m not sure you want to wear a wool skirt suit all night long.
Millennium Park
N: How exactly are you going to pull that off?
J: Well, I’ll wear all black, put a giant silver bean on my head, and maybe have the Crown Fountains on each arm. Could I rig them up so they spit out real water?
N: Yeah, start working on that. I’ll pick you up in 2010 when it’s ready.
Little Bo Peep
J: But I would be like, a marshmallow Peep, wearing a tiny bow tie…
N: Ooh – and you could carry that cane thing – the staff!
J: Totally! Any costume where I get to use a cane instantly jumps to the top of the priority list!
N: But are you going to have to spend the whole night explaining why you’re a giant rabbit with a bowtie and a shepherd’s staff?
J: Probably. Okay, cross that one off.
Other Rejected Cane Ideas
J: Charlie Chaplin…
N: A pimp. Didn’t you almost get a pimp cane once?
J: Don’t remind me. Biggest regret of my life.
N: What about that circus guy? You know, that guy who’s like the master of the ring…
J: You mean the ringmaster?
N: Oh, yeah. Him. Or how about a marching band guy?
J: It would be cool to get to wear a jacket with tails. But none of these mean anything to me.
N: Except the pimp cane.
J: Right. That means everything to me.
Rejected Eyepatch Ideas
J: How about a costume where I can wear an eyepatch? There’s always pirate.
N: And Patch from Days of Our Lives.
J: I guess that’s about it, isn’t it?
N: Or a blind person. But that’s really not funny.
J: No. That’s just not cool.
Gumball Machine
J: I wear all black, then have this giant plastic bubble… wait. There’s no way I can do build that.
N: Again, not until 2010.
J: What if I just wore all black, asked people to give me money and then handed them a sweaty gumball from my pocket?
N: That could work.
Toy Crane Thing from Chuck E. Cheese
N: How about this – what about one of those machines where you use the crane arm to pick up a stuffed animal?
J: Cool! But my arm would be the crane arm…
N: And just as they were about to win the stuffed animal, it would slip from your grasp like they always do.
J: Yeah, but that’s a lot of work. And I could easily blow $100 just buying stupid stuffed animals to fill it.
N: No – you just go to the Salvation Army and get them for like a dime each.
J: Because I’m sure my friends will really appreciate getting a urine-soaked Paddington Bear from the Goodwill. Nice one, Nat.
Suri Cruise
J: What’s something topical?
N: I don’t know… Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes?
J: Ohmigod – I’m totally going to be Suri Cruise!
N: And how exactly are you going to do that?
J: I’ll just get a gigantic poster board size picture of their Vanity Fair cover, cut out Suri’s head, and stick my head through it.
N: So you’ll be walking around all night with a six foot cardboard cutout attached to your head?
J: Scratch that one.
Other Costumes That Involve Me Wearing All Black
J: What about a skull and crossbones? I could wear all black, paint my face like a skull and have two bones for a tie?
J: Or maybe a constellation? I could wear all black, and glue stars all over my body.
J: How about the Chicago skyline? I could wear all black, then make a hat that looks like the Sears Tower.
J: Maybe I could be a Blo-Pop! I could wear all black, then put a giant wrapper on my head. Oh wait – I should probably wear white for the stick, right?
The Buzzkill
N: Let’s dress up like Smurfs!
J: Did you really just suggest that?
N: What? Is that bad?
J: We’ve reached a new low.
N: So you’re saying that Halloween has officially jumped the shark?
J: Afraid so.

Filed under: General on October 4th, 2006 | 19 Comments »

My friends Natasha and Farnsworth went to Hawaii for ten days, and all I got was…

… the most incredibly awesome good-luck happy tiki in the entire world!
Natasha, Dee-Dee and I had dinner last week to hear all about Nat’s Polynesian Adventure, and somewhere between the third and seventh time I asked her if she tried poi (apparently no one really eats it), she pulled out gifts for both of us.
I squealed with excitement and snatched my tiki out of her hand. As Nat continued her stories of lava rocks and lei greetings, I examined my gift, admiring the craftsmanship – the detailed grimace, the hands clenched as though to threaten those who might do me harm, and of course, his rockin’ ass.

“Ohmigod! Look – it has a butt! You got me a dirty naked tiki!”
I rubbed the bulbous buttocks with my thumb while giggling with delight. Nat and Dee-Dee looked around the restaurant to see if anyone had heard me.
“Okay, Jenny. Stop that.”
“Stop what? This?”
I then began gently petting the tiki butt with my index finger.
“Stop it! Stop petting his butt!”
“Okay, fine. I won’t pet his butt with my index finger anymore.”
I grinned while massaging the tiki’s posterior in a circular motion with my first two fingers.
The silent treatment.
“All right, all right. Sheesh – and you say I’m a prude! Well, I absolutely love my gift, Nat – thanks! This will get plenty of use.”
“You do realize that it’s a bottle opener, right?”
“Huh? Oh. Bottle opener… yeah. Cool!”

Filed under: General on October 1st, 2006 | 15 Comments »

So, I’ve watched this about five times, and get equally choked up each time. Am I getting soft in my old age? Hormone imbalance? Perhaps. Or is this possibly just the sweetest video ever? That first little woman who hugs him kills me every time.
Big hugs to Elle for sharing this!

Filed under: General on September 29th, 2006 | 25 Comments »

I’m almost 99% certain that my luggage tag is responsible for my frequent full-body cavity searches at airport security gates. There’s still a 1% chance that it’s my ginger perfume.

I’m also almost 99% certain that my recent iTunes purchases are responsible for my unprecedented levels of funk.

I’m Jenny-Jen and me love you long time.
How come every time you come around my London London Bridge wanna go down?
Dirty babe, you see these shackles? Baby, I’m your slave. I’ll let you whip me if I misbehave. It’s just that no one makes me feel this way.
I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind. There was something so pleasant about that place.
Does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazy? Does that make me crazy? Possibly.
Get your sexy on.
Get your sexy on.
Get your sexy on.
Get your sexy on.

Filed under: General on September 27th, 2006 | 22 Comments »

Kodo and Podo
So say goodbye to Mr. Lionel Richie and Miss Dionne Warwick, and say hello to Kodo and Podo! There were so many good suggestions for new names, though, that I’m certain I’ll be rotating several of them into the lineup in the future.
And as happy as it makes me to have some cool new names for my cats, I think what pleases me the most is that finally we can all step out from the shadows of shame and openly admit that we love The Beastmaster.
Dammit – my name is Jenny, and I love the movie The Beastmaster (I do not, however, love the cheap knockoff television series).

Here’s what I like most about The Beastmaster:
I like the part when the Beastmaster sees through the eyes of the falcon. I like the part where we first meet John Amos’ character partly because I keep expecting him to yell at J.J. and ask Florida what’s for dinner. I like the part where if you look closely, you can see the stripes of the tiger that they painted black to make it look like a panther. I like the part where those witches have really hot bodies but hideous faces, and hover over the cauldron as they watch the Beastmaster’s every move. I like the part where they stab a hot poker into the eyeball that’s in the ring that stupid kid wore. I like the part when Tanya Roberts and the Beastmaster wrestle and it’s all sexual tension and stuff. And I really like the part when the little ferrets, Kodo and Podo, always save the day. Just like my cats would, if they had ambition.

Now, if I can only teach my cats to steal necklaces and chew through trees when I’m sinking in quicksand, my life will be totally on the right track.
So thank you to everyone for voting on the opinion poll, and thank you for accepting me for who I really am – owner of cats, writer of blog, lover of Dar.

Filed under: General on September 23rd, 2006 | 10 Comments »

In a distinct departure from my normal lunch routine, I bonded with a group of complete strangers yesterday over an emotional discussion about religion. Well, more specifically, we bonded when we were standing outside a high-rise office building in the Loop and noticed a giant praying mantis near the entrance, sheltering itself from the rain.
“Oh my god! Is that…?”
“It’s a praying mantis!”
“In the Loop?!”
“Oh my god!”
“I know!”
“I’ve never seen one in real life before!”
“That’s what I was just saying!”
“Holy crap – a praying mantis!”
“Yup, praying mantis.”
“Where?”
“Right here.”
“Oh my god!”
“Cool.”
“What’s he doing here?”
“Don’t know.”
“Staying dry.”
“Just like us – ha!”
“Ahhh! Ohmigod – what is that?!”
“He’s not gonna attack you.”
“Yeah – it’s just a praying mantis.”
“Holy crap, look at his arms!”
“His eyes are huge!”
“Is that a praying mantis?”
“Poor little guy.”
“Should we pick him up?”
“He’ll be okay.”
“They can fly, right?”
“I think so – or is that locusts I’m thinking of?”
“It’s a plague!”
“Ha.”
“Praying mantis – sure don’t see that everyday.”
“Not in Chicago, at least.”
“That’s for sure!”
“Well, take it easy!”
“You too!”
“Thanks!”
“Bye!”
“Praying mantis… ha!”

Filed under: General on September 14th, 2006 | 16 Comments »

Although I had been friends with Laura since we were five, we had never lived together, so when we decided to share a flat the year after college, we had the usual roommate worries: Will our furniture match? What if our taste in TV is totally different? What if she steps on the bathmat with soaking wet feet?
As it turned out, living with her was a dream, all except for one thing – the refrigerator. Or more accurately, the refrigerator magnet. I distinctly remember the day Laura slapped it on the refrigerator, a grocery list held securely in its grasp.
“Uh, Laura? What’s this?”
“What? Oh – the magnet? My grandmother gave me that.”
It was a bright yellow plastic banana, with a smiling face, and the words, “Top Banana” written across the peel in permanent black marker.
“Your grandma wrote ‘Top Banana’ on a magnet and gave it to you?”
Laura nodded, “Uh huh,” and went back to doing the dishes.
A few minutes later, I walked back into the kitchen and said, “So… what? Your grandmother thinks you’re the top banana around here?”
“Pretty much.”
“That doesn’t seem right.”
“How so?”
“Well, what am I supposed to be?”
“Guess that would make you second banana.”
Month after month I was forced to stare at that banana, rubbing Laura’s status in my face every time I grabbed a can of soda or a piece of cheese. From time to time, I would move the magnet away from my line of vision – down low by the door handle, or on the side by the stove. But every day, it would end up right where it started – perfectly at eye level, mocking me.
Laura’s grandmother became known to us simply as “Banana Grandma,” and for years later, I would tease her that her gift to Laura made me feel inferior.
“Laura totally flaunts it, you know. The whole ‘Top Banana’ thing. I think you’re giving her a big head. I mean, who made her top banana?”
Her grandmother would just laugh whenever we brought up the magnet. Where was she from, with that sweet accent? I can’t remember. But I remember that she called me Jinny, and it reminded me of how Miss Harris, my first grade teacher, would say my name in her southern drawl.
A few years ago, I received a small package at work from an unfamiliar address. Marjorie? Who do I know named Marjorie? It became instantly clear when I opened up the package and found this:

I actually gasped when I opened it up, and immediately called Laura to gloat. Her grandmother had sent me a top banana magnet! Me! It was a decade later, but finally I had been vindicated.
Somewhere in the middle of my, your grandma loves me more speech, Laura asked calmly, “Does it say ‘Top Banana’ on it?”
I looked down at the magnet, turned it over, and said, “Well, no… but it’s the identical magnet! I’m positive!”
“But it’s just a plain banana, right? It doesn’t say ‘Top Banana’ anywhere.”
After a long pause, I said, “No.”
“So I guess we’re still clear on who the top banana is, right?”
I carefully placed the magnet back in its envelope and sighed, “You’re the top banana, Laura.”
“Just checking.”
I still keep it on my refrigerator, where it holds up a picture of my nephews. And since I see that magnet every day whenever I grab a can of soda or a piece of cheese, it just broke my heart to learn that Laura’s grandmother passed away unexpectedly last week. A lively, lovely woman with an easy laugh and a kind heart, she was truly something special, and the real top banana in my book.

Filed under: General on September 7th, 2006 | 29 Comments »

She is practicing violin again, windows open wide to let in the almost fall breeze. If I had stuck with my lessons for more than a year, I might have some idea of the piece she’s playing. Sometimes I can’t tell if she’s practicing, or just listening to music.
It’s drizzling out as I am unloading my groceries from the car, but I pause by her window to listen as she plays.
I never was able to make a pure sound.
Her notes are true and clean, and cut through the grey of this day. In the apartment above hers, a cat sits inside on the windowsill, taking it all in. He reminds me of my old cat.
I think I liked the trappings of musical instruments more than the actual playing of them – the coolness of the chin rest against my face, the piney scent of rosin on the bow, the soft velvet lining of the case.
And my mother was fond of my violin teacher, Mr. Seeger, who looked like the man from the Dr. Pepper commercials, so while my lessons resulted in no actual talent, we all got what we wanted for a time.
She misses a note, pauses, and begins again, this time perfectly. The rain starts falling harder, and makes a soft pinging sound as it hits the plastic grocery bags in my arms. I shift them to one side as I wrestle for my keys, carefully avoiding the puddles that have formed.

Filed under: General on September 5th, 2006 | 17 Comments »

[Dear Ashbloem – the gauntlet? She is thrown.]
What the-? Why’d she put a tub of butter next to me?

Oh bitch, you did not just put butter on my nose.

Hmm. Kinda creamy, little salty. Oh, it’s butter all right. Son of a…

Enh! Can’t… quite… reach.

Damn! What side is it on?

Plblblblb… is this low fat butter? Sick!

Nice. After I already took a bath this morning!

That’s right. Take your precious photos. As soon as you fall asleep, I’m sucking out your breath.

Filed under: General on September 1st, 2006 | 11 Comments »

She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m having a secret contest with Ashbloem. The rules are simple: obsessively photograph your cats in the hopes of catching them with their tongues hanging out. I’m not even sure if there’s a prize for winning this contest, other than seeing more cat tongue. So really, we all win.
I have the day off of work today, and plan on doing nothing but follow my cats around with my camera. I might smear butter all over them, too, just to jump start the licking.
Although really, if I’m being honest with myself, I could photograph my cats day and night and still never get a picture as good as this one of Ash’s Thundercat:

So, yeah. That’s the plan. Just me, two cats, a tub of butter, and a camera. This blog My social life is going downhill fast.

Filed under: General on September 1st, 2006 | 12 Comments »