Snail Mail

Yesterday, while I was reading the blog Callalillie, I came across a project that I can most definitely get behind. It’s called the Modern Letter Project.

Pretty much it’s a modern day pen pal. You write letters each month and share your stories to create an archive. All librarians love archives! That's why i'm all for it! If you’re interested in joining you only have a day to do so (sorry about the short notice).

Yay for writing letters!

I used to date a guy in HS who moved to another state. He was always amazing at sending letters and packages; I, on the other hand, was terrible. I’d always forget and never follow through. I’ve decided that this will be my way of making up for those long lost letters I never wrote.

50% American

I've been doing some thinking lately and it looks like I've only visited 25 states (and one district) out of the fifty nifty united states of America. I'm shocked, SHOCKED by these findings. I thought for sure I've visited at least 30 or 35. You know what these means, right? I'm now obsessing over the idea of visiting each one I've missed. These states mostly encompass middle America. I have no problem with them, its just that, well I don't know. I've drawn a map and with this map I believe I could hit each middle state I have yet to cover on a two to three week road trip. This is all hypothetically speaking. Details to follow.

If I don't get to it in my younger years - I don't mind being one of those older folks who trail (er) their way cross country. Thank you 401K!

Also, for the record, Cracker Jacks is a weird midday work snack. I just tried to pull it off and it didn't go as smoothly as expected.

March of the Liberal Polar Bears

I woke up yesterday and decided to take the train out to Coney Island, to walk the beach and visit the aquarium. I arrived about 12:30 pm, which was only half an hour away from the crazy folks over at the Polar Bear Clubs weekly Sunday swim. I guess it was cold enough to dip, because sure enough at 1:00 pm, 30 people marched down the beach in 21 degree weather and jumped into the ocean. They kept screaming "We love Jon Stewart" and pumped their fists in the air yelling "Daily Show, Daily Show."

I figured they were just a bunch of super liberal Polar Bears, but realized that the correspondent dude, Dan, was filming a segment for the show. Some crazy woman kept stumbling out of the water and up to the cameras to make some weird, get in the water, hand gestures to the camera men. She looked slightly out of it. I wasn't sure if it was the freezing temperatures of the water or the fact that she was, indeed, slightly out of it. One Polar man yelled at Daily Show dude to get in the water. You do NOT want to fuck with these men. They wear crowns and robes made of silk and gold. Ok - maybe not real silk and gold, but definitely fancified water gear. I give these men and women credit. This is truly an act of dedication.

Vanish Into Thin Air

Well, well, well look who decided to reappear. Welcome back to the new and improved blog of Jessica. Alright, fine. Obviously it's not new or improved, but the fact that I'm writing on it after 2 months of hiatus means I can start over again.

Interesting facts:

I'm currently obsessed with taking pictures and posting them to my flickr site. The sad part is that I only have 4 flickr friends, one of which is the Brooklyn Museum, who only wanted me as a contact because I took a picture there. So - if you're reading this and want to be a friend let me know. I could use the internet-networking-site-ego-boost.

Staying with the currently obsessed theme I've become somewhat invested in a little show called Beauty and the Geek. I'm aware that this is not the first season, but my God is it good. I'm particularly fond of Nate the "Star Wars" geek. I cannot for the life of me get his Hans Solo song out of my head.

I want to work for a fun library. I realize my library could be considered fun by some, but I'm ready to move on. I want to work with music, or dioramas or books on anything other then dogs. Anyone know of anything?

Speaking of dioramas, I'm thinking of making one (note the smooth segue from one topic to the next). I haven't done it since grade 4, but I believe I'd excel profusely if I tried again. During this holiday season I received many compliments on my card making/wrapping paper creating skills. Granted, it was just a lot of cutting and pasting, but you still have to have, what I call, "the eye for finding."

I'm sure I've already bored the 2 people who still visit this site, but stick with me and I'll tell you some great stories that lead nowhere.

Sincerely yours,

Jessica

For the Sake of Campers

After all my problems with eBay I’ve decided to go ahead and make matters worse – I’m selling my old junk. I figured that if I didn’t want my stuff, someone else might, right? But you know what? Not as many people do as I was expecting. To tell you the truth, I’m kind of annoyed. I mean, some of my junk is pretty nice. I’ve got shorts from Express worth $40 bucks that I never wore (still has tags) and a great pair of Gola shoes (never worn) that have yet to be added to anyone’s watch lists. They’re perfectly good articles of clothing; I just don’t want them anymore.

If no one buys my stuff I won’t be able to buy my cute Camper shoes that I have my eye on. Maybe I should write that in the description. A plea of sorts to make people feel bad, as well as a tad bit pressured into purchasing a pair of shoes I bought off eBay that never fit quite right. Just so i can turn that money around and buy a pair of shoes that I will wear every day until they fall apart. It’s the circle of eBay and I’m totally sucked in.

Wasting time

As long as I can remember, I’ve always told stories that have no point and continue on forever without endings. Eventually they just die, either out of lack of interest on my listeners’ part or more frequently on my part. I’ve also been known to begin stories with “this one time…” a lot.

The thing that really irks me about this is that at some point that ridiculously stupid movie “American Pie” stole my line. Now, every time I go to tell a story starting with “this one time,” people find it hysterically funny and original to say “at band camp!” I hate it. I feel like saying “no ass, it wasn’t band camp. I’ve never been to band camp and I don’t know how to play an instrument, well maybe I can play the first few lines of Eternal Flame on piano, but that’s it.” But as you can see, my story then becomes longer, considering the fact that people may be intrigued by my Eternal Flame story, which would make me launch into another story altogether. You can see why I get frustrated.

At this point, my original story appears helpless. By the time I get around to finishing up the moment has passed and now I look like a lingerer. You know them, the people that laugh a little bit too long at a joke, or the people that try to relate stories 15 minutes after the original topic has died. No one wants to be a lingerer.

I also hate the fact that people actually think I’m quoting American Pie. I’m not big into movie quoting. I think it isolates people, but I’ve been known to throw out a line or two with people I know who are into the Office (Ricky Gervais will forever be my comedic God) or Adventures in Babysitting (“Take it back Brad, take back what you said about Thor. If you don’t take it back I’ll tell Chris about all the love poems you write about her. Hi Chris!”), but AMERICAN PIE??? Sheesh.

At this point in my post you may be asking yourself, “So what’s the point of this post?” I’m here to tell you that there is no point. I sat down at my computer this morning, started writing and this is what came out. It just solidifies my point that my stories have no meaning. Do you feel like you’ve wasted a few minutes reading this? I think not. If anything you could click away from my blog with the new found knowledge of the greatest quote in all of American cinema. I’m talking about Adventures in Babysitting.

Crazies All Around

I wonder who made up the rule about the Indian meaning good luck on the package of tootsie roll pops. I always make sure to check. I secretly believe this. Just like I believe in other superstitions. I guess they’re not so much superstitions as me being obsessive. I remember when I was younger I used to believe “if I make this basketball into the basket I’m going to have a good time at the school dance, if I don’t – well, it’ll suck.” This actually happened. Not once, but lots of times. I used variations of tools/products to predict my level of fun, but it was always the same idea. I’m not sure it ever worked, but I continued to do it well into adulthood.

It’s like when you finally win something and you’re convinced your luck has changed. I was the winner of a raffle prize last year at my company holiday party. The first name wasn’t mine; even though I was obsessively repeating my own name over and over again in my head. However, the second prize, the potable DVD player, was all mine. I was half psyched that I won and half amazed that I was able to telepathically send my name into the mouth of the announcer *aka* office manager. I never told anyone that, but it happened too and it was just last year. For a while after, I thought I’d win every contest I’d enter. My dreams were broken when I didn’t win a scholarship for a conference and most recently (the winners haven’t been announced yet, but I’m feeling like I lost) a trip to London to have tea with Agatha Christie’s grandson. I’m not a huge fan of Agatha Christie or her grandson, but the contest was for librarians only and a free trip to London, which I am a huge fan of. The portable DVD player has sat in my closest for almost a year, untouched.

So there you have it. I’m a little bit crazy.

Keeping with the crazy theme, I’ll recount a story that happened last week.

I usually give myself 25 – 30 minutes in the morning to wake, shower, get dressed and leave my house. I refuse to wake up any earlier then it takes to do all of my morning rituals. I will not eat breakfast at home. I never step foot into any other part of my house besides the bathroom and shower and I see no point in waking up 15 minutes earlier when I could be sleeping…soundly.

This particular morning was no different, except for the fact that I was running 5 minutes late. I grabbed my sweater and coat and ran out the door, with the intention of putting my sweater on as I walked, you know, to save time. Anyway – as I’m walking down my street I pass a man, probably in his 50’s, most likely lives on my block and is certainly not homeless. He was walking slowly so I passed him and continued balancing the 4 items I was holding, clearly not saving time. I finally got my sweater on and was around the corner when I noticed I dropped my coat. I looked back and didn’t see it, so I ran to the corner to look down my street. There, right in front of me, not five seconds after I dropped it, was the old man I passed with one arm in my coat. I yelled “hey, HEY!” He didn’t look up, but was very confused as to why the coat wasn’t fitting all the way down his arm. Side note, my coat is a three quarter sleeve pea type ladies wear. When I finally caught up to him he took his arm out of the coat, shrugged, and said “It didn’t fit anyway,” and dropped it back on the ground. He obviously saw me drop it; I was 2 feet in front of him.

I love crazies.