tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55781802011-08-05T22:53:29.140-05:00I left western New York for graduate school in Minnesota. They pay me to teach <strike>freshmen how to write</strike> creative writing. Tater tots are these people's wings. There's not nearly enough bleu cheese anywhere. Midwestern boys are hot. I'm working on my accent.Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.comBlogger13351100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1155669180228675012006-08-15T13:58:00.000-05:002006-08-15T14:13:00.296-05:00

Goodbye, GoodbyeThis is the last of the Where Is My Sponge Candy blog. There's a new chapter starting, and it's over here at the new blog. This one will stay around on its own, so I can easily look back on those three years of grad school and shake my head and think, That was perfect. It was perfect. It was everything I could've ever asked for, even in the dead of winter, even when it was

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1155589319116130732006-08-14T15:45:00.000-05:002006-08-14T16:50:43.326-05:00

The Lid Is OnThe other night my friend Steph hosted another Pink Torpedo dinner party. There were trays of cheese, crackers, vegetables, cookies, cupcakes. There were shakers filled with martinis. There were mini glow-sticks to loop and drop in the bottom of our glasses so the five of us sat glowing pink and purple and blue and green on her front porch. There was also a deck of cards.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1155312939443245492006-08-11T11:02:00.000-05:002006-08-12T18:09:59.556-05:00

The Rhinestones Helped a LittleI will always have this to remember: On the day that will probably be the last day I will ever see the Wily Republican--the day I went up to say goodbye, goodbye, thanks for the last three years of random bizarreness--I was lacing up my shoes and getting ready to leave his house. I was thinking about what a strange day it had been. I was thinking it didn't seem fair

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1155312062296581392006-08-11T10:57:00.000-05:002006-08-11T11:01:02.346-05:00

For Katy, Part 2Last night I was sitting on Steph's front porch with the rest of the Pink Torpedos. We were drinking martinis and talking about upcoming weddings. That's when Katy called."You know people are going to think we're lesbians because of your blog," she said. "And could you have picked worse pictures of me? I look gross in every one. Pick a nice picture!"Okay. Here's my favorite Katy

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1155185774898823632006-08-09T22:45:00.000-05:002006-08-10T00:06:19.616-05:00

Things I Will Miss, Volume 4I meant to do this more. I meant to do it faithfully. But I haven't and I didn't, but this one is important and worth it, so here it is:I am going to miss Katy.I met her in our two week TA training in August of '03. I wasn't very good in my head back then. The first thing I did when I entered that room was this: I evaluated the boys. I checked them out. Each and every

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1155013383628666782006-08-07T23:42:00.000-05:002006-08-08T00:07:11.083-05:00

Flashback to Our Big Gay TimeOnce, I was Bernadette. Once, I decided my considerable fortune came from an inherited bead store. Once, I loved a man named Rod. Once, I hung out with a girl named Peaches, and she drank her beer the only way you should: from a forty.Part of my long goodbye to Minnesota was the girly trip up to Minneapolis for a sleep over/Mall of America trip/gay bar escapade that

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1154532845801865652006-08-06T10:09:00.000-05:002006-08-06T20:34:35.430-05:00

Happy Anniversary, Minnesota[This is a post written the day after I moved out of my apartment.]Yesterday was the third anniversary of me being in Minnesota. On August 1, 2003, I drove into town in my Oldsmobile Cutlass Ciera, with my father behind me in a rented van. We had spent the last two days crossing the country to get to this small Minnesota town, and we talked over walkie-talkies the

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1154752540633121972006-08-04T23:30:00.000-05:002006-08-04T23:35:40.646-05:00

The Changes AheadI'm going to spend the next week or so catching up on entries that I wanted to write last week but couldn't because I was busy doing things like moving out of my apartment, packing my entire life into the Civic, staying at casa de Clay, eating my way across Mankato, and gossiping into the late hours of the morning, afternoon, and night. I will be talking about things like

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1154375095863913012006-07-31T13:41:00.000-05:002006-07-31T14:57:27.406-05:00

How to Kill Any and All Self-Esteem I Might HaveMake fun of my teeth. Go ahead, just do it. If you want to make me sad, make me angry, make me want to crack you over the head with some sort of blunt object, please, by all means, make fun of my teeth. I was born with an abnormal frenulum--the thin flap of skin that connects your lip to your gum. Mine was just bigger than everyone else’s, and it

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1154214337688903322006-07-29T18:05:00.000-05:002006-07-29T19:51:57.473-05:00

Room for the Holy SpiritThis whole week has been sort of like one unending party, just with long stretches of packing tucked between binges.Tuesday was Note Night, where girls armed with old notes and pictures showed off their best letters from high school boyfriends and best friends, all while drinking a lot of rum.Wednesday I drove up to the cities to have one last go with Minneapolis. Megan

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1154121284048280972006-07-28T13:55:00.000-05:002006-07-28T16:22:21.823-05:00

Now Is The Time People Will Start Asking My Grandmother, "When Do You Think Jessie Is Going to Get Married?"Isn't that question sort of inevitable? My grandmother's first grandchild up and got married last Sunday, in a spectacular whirl of beautiful flowers, gardens, chandeliers, and food. I can only imagine the thought has at least crossed her mind that, based on age and maturity, I should be

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1153675774349582652006-07-23T12:11:00.000-05:002006-07-26T10:38:56.810-05:00

Man Gets Thrown Through Window. Jess Watches.The events of Saturday, June 22, 2006.10:45 PMI am in Holland, on the way home from dinner with the girls and a movie with my mother. The phone rings. It is Josh, the most beloved of all my ex-co-workers."We're going to scummy Springville bars," he says. "Wanna come?"Of course I do. 11:00 PMJosh picks me up. We go to Springville and pick up Mike, one

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1153410126093842752006-07-20T10:33:00.000-05:002006-07-20T10:42:06.236-05:00

Here Goes Another OneThis weekend is the weekend my cousin gets married. She's the one on the right. But the other two of us (me and Kait, who's in between me and Amanda) will be right there to watch it all go down. And then we will drink cocktails and wonder why we can't be the ones romping around in frothy white dresses.I suppose there are some things I can say about yesterday--certainly

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1153318117381568492006-07-19T08:47:00.000-05:002006-07-19T09:08:37.633-05:00

You May Kiss My Rhinestone-Buckled FootLess than twenty-four hours after I wrote this He no longer calls me at 2:30 in the morning to tell me he's sitting in theflower bed outside the bar and that he wants to buy me cheesebread.the Wily Republican called me at 2:30 in the morning. He'd just gotten back from the bar, from a birthday celebration for one of his friends. The friend was puking in the

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1153202846129510562006-07-17T23:32:00.000-05:002006-07-18T09:17:51.160-05:00

Packing, Day OneAnd so it starts. Things are beginning to wind down here in Minnesota. I've got a living room full of empty banana boxes from the grocery store, and they're waiting to be filled with the things I've nested in this apartment over the last three years.I didn't cry even once tonight when I dragged those boxes in my room and started tucking away photos and candles and winter clothes.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1153100538873878602006-07-16T18:25:00.000-05:002006-07-16T21:05:00.360-05:00

Bernadette, Lily, Gyna, Peaches, and Rod Take MinneapolisI don't know what came over me last night. Actually, there are many things I don't know. For instance, I don't know...1. Why I chose to go by my confirmation name last night2. Why drag queens think that lip liner is so great when it's fifty shades darker than your lipstick3. How I was coerced into buying three inch heels with rhinestone

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1152846673076368072006-07-13T21:27:00.000-05:002006-07-13T22:15:59.316-05:00

I Am Lois LaneBack when I liked my grandfather, back when I would go over to my grandparents' house on Sunday nights to watch Lois and Clark, that's when my grandfather would tell me I looked sort of like Lois Lane. Miss Lane, of course, was played by the pre-Desperate Housewives Terry Hatcher, back when her long face looked extra long because of that stick-straight hair they made her sport

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1152650919612906532006-07-11T15:04:00.000-05:002006-07-11T15:48:39.860-05:00

Back in Minnesota (Eighty Pounds Heavier)I'm back. The journey was a long one (and I'd like to thank the Illinois toll road for transforming me into a murderous, road raging savage during any of the several half hour to forty-five minute toll lines I had to sit through because of the construction for their new open road tolling--bah!), but I'm here now and everything is okay.Some good and

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1152246828250648332006-07-06T22:41:00.000-05:002006-07-06T23:43:10.216-05:00

If You Need a File Baked into a Cake and Delivered to Your Jail Cell, I'm Your GirlA convicted murderer, thief, and all around bad guy is being hunted here in western New York. He's been broken out of jail for months. He's been evading the police. He's been camping out. He's been stealing cars. They think he's in the town where I went to college.Where am I, though? I'm hanging out with my own

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1152030559095617562006-07-04T11:06:00.000-05:002006-07-05T00:39:21.586-05:00

The Bridesmaid Tells Her SecretsIt's over. The wedding is over.I went over to Amy's house, bridesmaid central, on Friday afternoon so we could wait for the third in our trio to roll into town. Of course, nothing is simple. Moe, who was supposed to arrive at 4:00, got there sometime after 7:00. A few hours earlier there had been an incident in western New York.At that point, I was at my mother's.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1151645233299183822006-06-30T10:31:00.000-05:002006-06-30T00:33:20.900-05:00

Heard in Ontario: Accoutrements, Brothel, Pantaloons, ProctologistI'm back from Ontario, and, as predicted, I feel good. A little sandy, but good. My trip from Minnesota to New York was a little hellacious, seeing as I got caught in Chicago-area construction, which delayed me by two hours. Because of that, I arrived in NY at 1:00AM. And I won't even talk about how the only thing that was making

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1151364572717031462006-06-26T17:46:00.000-05:002006-06-26T18:31:40.196-05:00

I Love You, Ontario. I Love You, Buffalo.Tomorrow morning I leave for my 15 hour drive back to Buffalo. I will probably get in around midnight, but the next morning I will be up early and driving to Port Dover and Long Point, Ontario. I will be parking myself beachside here:I will eat my weight in foot long hotdogs from the infamous Arbor. I will eat my weight in perch fresh from Lake Erie. I

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1151293242097049852006-06-25T22:34:00.000-05:002006-06-25T22:40:42.153-05:00

Why It Involved a Spaceship Is Beyond MeLast night I went to bed with Rob Lowe.On a spaceship.Our bedroom was a special, very chic chamber. The other people on the ship walked bowed to me. They called me The Chosen One.I'll tell you this: it's good to be The Chosen One. It's good because you get to go to bed with Rob Lowe. And let me tell you this about Rob Lowe: he likes to hold your hand all

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1151085717978986232006-06-23T12:30:00.000-05:002006-06-23T13:53:07.663-05:00

Maybe All I Need Is a Guitar and a HorseLast night was Irish bar night. Last night was open mic and Limerick night. Last night a psychic, guitar-playing horseback rider asked me to ride with him on his trip to Florida. Just him, the horse, the open road, and me."You can carry my guitar for me," he said."You've got the most beautiful eyes," he said."You're a natural beauty," he said."I am in love

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1150952997504874622006-06-21T23:24:00.000-05:002006-06-22T09:17:32.570-05:00

Let's Call It The Gassiest Weekend Ever (And It Wasn't My Fault)I'm back from Nebraska, and my head is still cloudy from the trip. I haven't even unpacked yet, and my room is a mess.But that can wait. It can wait because I need to tell you about the Holiday Inn, about corn, about strange Katy things, about my newfound respect for Iowa, and other things.I can't tell you about my interview, the

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1150575571609696252006-06-17T15:08:00.000-05:002006-06-17T15:19:31.646-05:00

Here I Go. Merrily.Nebraska Road Trip Mix CD burned? Check.Rental Car procured after shop could not get the part for my tie rod in time? Check.Teaching demonstration planned, outlined, and ready? Check.Sassy red luggage filled with the cutest, most capable clothes I have? Check.Reservations for two nights at the Holiday Inn (complete with whirlpool and heated pool)? Check.Swimsuit? Check.It looks

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1150428956590257592006-06-15T21:54:00.000-05:002006-06-15T22:35:56.733-05:00

I Am Ashamed of MyselfI guess this is a theme this summer: Katy makes me watch movies, they remind me of something from my past.First it was Bring It On and my brief stint as a cheerleader for the Holland Raiders. A few days ago it was Billy Madison and a hybrid of childhood deceit and kleptomania.I stole things as a child. I lied a lot, too.But I blame things for this. Mainly, I blame

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1150156630126299492006-06-12T18:35:00.000-05:002006-06-12T18:58:31.756-05:00

When You Google Nebraska, This Is The First Thing That Pops Up I know this because I am planning a small trip to Nebraska. For an interview. At a college. Face to face. Complete with teaching demonstration. Meeting the president. The whole enchilada.It makes me want to do a ridiculous dance around my room.Or ride a giant jack rabbit. Or run for cover from any of the devastating tornados that

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1150052197198854882006-06-11T12:48:00.000-05:002006-06-11T13:56:37.226-05:00

I've Filed This Under "I Can't Believe I Ever Thought That Was a Good Idea"I was a cheerleader for approximately four weeks when I was a sophomore in high school. That is something I try to sublimate and lock away in the back of my memories, but last night I got to thinking about it when Katy forced me to watch Bring It On.As is the case with many of the dumb things I've done over the course of

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1149965856530551392006-06-10T13:28:00.000-05:002006-06-10T14:04:47.836-05:00

Things I Wish My Roommate Knew1. You have to wring out a washcloth or a sponge after using.She never does. She'll let it hang limp and sodden across the faucet or, more likely, she just tosses it in a lump at the bottom of the sink. Whenever I come to pick it up and, say, clean up a spill or wash the dishes, the room is swells with the smell of plague. How can she not smell that? How can she not

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1149875978964326052006-06-09T12:33:00.000-05:002006-06-09T13:04:07.043-05:00

Running QuietI have great affection for the movie U-571, and not just because Bon Jovi is in it. I love a good submarine movie. Submarines are terrifying. Drama is inherent in the diving and maneuvering of a giant and creaky aluminum can, and that makes for tense movie-viewing. The tension added with a wet Bon Jovi and Matthew McConaughey is, of course, an added bonus.Anyway, I love when

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1149571742931900182006-06-05T22:22:00.000-05:002006-06-06T10:48:22.403-05:00

The Ladies of the Hy-Vee Wine Sale"So," Katy said to me today, "Hy-Vee is having a sale on wine. Buy one bottle at the regular price, and you get the second one for a buck.""Ooooh," I said."I think there's wine tasting, too," she continued.So, after I failed at buying a cheap floatie mat for my many summer trips to the pond ("Wait." Amy is on the phone while I'm in Walmart. "Are you buying

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1149441929125105322006-06-04T11:44:00.000-05:002006-06-04T12:25:29.333-05:00

Lady of the LakeOf all the places in Minnesota I could end up, I end up here. In the southern part. In the generally lakeless part. For a state that has over 20,000 lakes, it hasn't shown me all that many. Of course, I haven't been way up north where, I'm promised, the state is lousy with water.If it were up to me, I'd have a lake in my backyard. I'd smite the trailer park that's there, with its

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1149227351326636862006-06-01T23:38:00.000-05:002006-06-02T00:55:18.223-05:00

Dear Blue Earth, MN; Vernon Center, MN; Frost, MN; Rapidan, MN; and Rake, IA: I Love YouThis morning I woke up and made two peanut butter sandwiches. I packed a tube of Pringles and some pop. Then I drove over to Katy's to collect her. After that, we were headed southbound. Adventure was our middle name.First stop? Blue Earth, Minnesota, for some quality time with this guy:That's right. The Jolly

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1148948254353683632006-05-29T18:42:00.000-05:002006-05-29T19:21:34.446-05:00

I Never Said I Was the Bigger PersonLast week I got an e-mail from the bride whose wedding I am in this summer. She e-mailed to tell me that I hadn't yet RSVPed for her wedding.I hope you're planning on attending, she wrote. I wanted to print that e-mail out, magnet it to my fridge, and shoot suction cup darts at it. She hoped I was planning on attending. Yeah, me too. Especially considering I've

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1148871237260388452006-05-28T21:42:00.000-05:002006-05-28T21:56:11.750-05:00

This Is a List of Things I Don't Like1. Flossing.2. Girls with names like Autumn and Amber and April.3. The way that, every once in awhile, our air conditioner pours out gusts of chilly air that smells like dead fish. Why, AC? Why?4. How I look in shorts.5. The Sabres losing Game 5 in overtime.6. Lima beans.7. Neil Young.8. The phrase "take care."9. The way my roommate loads the dishwasher (so

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1148761191073076572006-05-27T12:12:00.000-05:002006-05-27T15:28:55.710-05:00

Losing ItThe other night I went over to PG's for dinner, and after our salad and ribs and cauliflower-bacon gratin, we traded stories. When we got around to the Losing Virginity stories, I suddenly remembered how much anger I have sublimated from that time in my life.This was the post-Cousin's Boyfriend era. This was when my two best friends (Amy, Patty) and I were still calling ourselves The

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1148532867981962672006-05-24T23:03:00.000-05:002006-05-24T23:54:32.863-05:00

Wednesday Night Thoughts1. American IdolI didn't feel very good about American Idol after the love of my life got voted off. I sulked. I cursed the American viewing public. I said (out loud and to anyone who would listen): "That's it! That's it! I am voting Katharine McPhee through to the end!"If I couldn't have my Chris, then I was going to have my second favorite. Katharine.I think Elliot is a

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1148400750687438242006-05-23T10:47:00.000-05:002006-05-23T11:15:42.700-05:00

Crossing That One off the ListThis summer is going to be a busy one. I'm attempting to cross things off my Things I Want to Do/See Before I Leave Minnesota list.Yesterday, we took down the Spam Museum.That's right. The Spam capitol of the world--SpamTown USA--is Austin, Minnesota, about an hour's drive from here. There's a giant Hormel plant in Austin, not to mention the museum, which was

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1148162577217731262006-05-20T15:55:00.000-05:002006-05-20T19:46:34.533-05:00

What I Wouldn't Give to Have Been in a Bar in BuffaloThe first time I attended a Sabres game it was in Rich's luxury suite at the HSBC arena.I was probably thirteen years old. The place was stuffed to the gills with pizza, chicken wings, and icy buckets of Labatt Blue. My father sat back with his boss and his employees while I sat up against the railing. I clutched it for dear life. The smack of

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1148067679698523942006-05-19T12:43:00.000-05:002006-05-19T15:28:45.546-05:00

This Is Where I Reveal I Have Learned Some Important Life LessonsThree months ago one of my professors told me she wanted me to have a fling with her neighbor. She told me he was a good boy and that he could build things and that he had moppy Midwestern hair. One afternoon she marched me across her back lawn and into his, then proceeded to go straight into the house when no one responded to her

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1147984123759291102006-05-18T14:30:00.000-05:002006-05-18T15:37:55.126-05:00

A Very Special Edition of Things I Will MissOn Monday night Ryan told us that he was going to be gone by the end of the week. Just like that. Gone. Packed up, moved out, and no longer in Minnesota. It's back to West Virginia for him.We've been celebrating every night since he told us. "I'm leaving on Friday, Jess," he said. "You've got to stay and drink." And then there were some brats, some

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1147809309890883272006-05-16T14:13:00.000-05:002006-05-16T14:56:30.420-05:00

For the Girl Sans Tonsils.This post is really for Amy, my best friend, who is resting after having her tonsils taken out yesterday.Ame, you will enjoy this.I would watch and listen to this man do a number of horribly boring things if I could just sit in a room with him for two minutes.He learned to ride bareback.If Jared Leto could make out with Jared Leto, my life would be so good.Oh, to be that

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1147638846009800242006-05-14T14:56:00.000-05:002006-05-14T15:35:46.246-05:00

Now With That Newly Graduated Taste!Last night I woke up in a puddle of drool. A puddle of drool on New Boy's arm. Oh my God, I thought, I have been drooling on him for hours. I've had a problem controlling my drool lately, and I sometimes find myself waking on slightly-moist pillows. Is this what I have to look forward to now that I'm old and graduated? Is this the first in a long list of

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1147496034578162362006-05-12T17:56:00.000-05:002006-05-12T23:59:02.653-05:00

Let's Pray I Don't Hear The Words Deep, Vein, or Thrombosis in the Next Twenty-Four Hours (or Ever Again)Tomorrow I graduate. Although it's not the first time I'll have graduated from some sort of college, it will be the first time I've walked to commemorate the occasion.The first week of May in 2003, I took a road trip out here to see the school. After all, I had just signed my life away and

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1147311777557486882006-05-10T20:21:00.000-05:002006-05-10T23:41:40.333-05:00

Our Heroine Starts Her Goodbyes That's my Intro to Creative Writing class right there. We were quite a group. Ballet dancers, pregnant girls, expressive theatre majors, sweet El-Ed pretties, two stoners, a girl with a wacky name, two mothers, boys obsessed with mobsters, the quiet but surprisingly smart tall boy, the quiet but surprisingly smart hot boy, the ex-Army boy, the girl who loved to

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1147209848637853612006-05-09T16:17:00.000-05:002006-05-09T22:48:09.856-05:00

This Is the True Story of One MFA Program and Its Cinco de Mayo PartyAnd finally, here it is. Our southern Minnesota take on Cinco de Mayo.I'll start with a video. It will set the tone. [Videos aren't working in the conventional way right now, so let's just link to them, ok?]Diana + Pinata = Ass KickingThat is our hostess. She took that sucker pinata down. She spilled its guts. Guts which she and

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1147128959123648862006-05-08T17:33:00.000-05:002006-05-08T19:09:42.196-05:00

The Mathematical Equation That Explains Why I Don't Have a Date to a Summer WeddingToday I learned that in order to get an And Guest attached to your invitation to one of the weddings I'm in this summer, you had to have been dating someone a minimum of six months prior to the day the guest list was established. Two months? Three months? No, no, it just won't do. You're just not serious enough.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1147030153604131602006-05-07T13:35:00.000-05:002006-05-07T14:29:13.803-05:00

Things I Will Miss, Vol. 2The recap of the Cinco de Mayo party will have to wait, since my pictures aren't so much in my possession right now. So, while we wait, here's another thing I'm going to miss about this state:The Smell of SoybeansThis town stinks.No, really. It does. This lovely southern Minnesota town processes more soybeans than any other one town in all of North America. They roll in

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1146863527212157532006-05-05T15:28:00.000-05:002006-05-05T16:12:07.400-05:00

I Will Use The Words I Can: Fiesta! Arriba! Ole! Tequila! Pinata!Oh, the things we will see. The English Department End of the Year/Cinco de Mayo party starts in less than two hours.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1146693609458812312006-05-03T16:17:00.000-05:002006-05-03T17:03:51.106-05:00

He's One Badass PenguinI often forget that I'm a twelve year old locked inside a twenty four year old's body. I have grown accustomed to the strange things kicking around my bedroom. The occasional stuffed animal, the stacks of diecut Hello Kitty sticky notes, the Power Puff Girls pencils.I don't stop to think that maybe this reflects badly on me. I am, after all, an instructor of English at a

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1146515951038227222006-05-01T14:43:00.000-05:002006-05-01T15:48:11.733-05:00

I Wish I Spoke SpanishIt was my sixth grade year. They shoved all 100 members of my class into the middle school auditorium. The principal introduced us to the difficult task at hand: we had to choose what language to study for the next four years of our lives. It was a small school, so we didn't have anything fancy. No Latin. No German. No Russian. Just Spanish and French. The principal

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1146433235722482122006-04-30T16:10:00.000-05:002006-04-30T16:43:08.240-05:00

Lasts/FirstsI've been here for almost three years, and, until yesterday, I'd never been to Menards.Menards. It's like the Midwestern version of Home Depot, although it's not that we don't have Home Depots out here. We do. But Menards is sort of like the brainchild of some Midwestern farming grandmother who, once upon a time, was making her list of things to pick up in town and said to her husband

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1146258359926765152006-04-29T14:01:00.000-05:002006-04-29T14:08:04.843-05:00

The Notes You KeepBecause I am a writer, my entire world is littered with scraps of paper or mini-notebooks. On or in these things are writing ideas--sometimes dialogue, sometimes plot ideas, sometimes character traits. They are half-thoughts that may or may not make sense to me a few months or years down the road.Today while I cleaned I leafed through my bedside table notebook--the one that is

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1146172009412472052006-04-27T15:28:00.000-05:002006-04-27T16:16:58.840-05:00

My Last Writer's Bloc EverIf I had time to process the fact that last night was the last Writer's Bloc I would ever attend, I probably would've cried. But thanks to distractions like naughty picture taking and vodka, it wasn't until 6 AM this morning when I crawled into bed for a three hour stint of sleep that I thought about how sad it all is and that we're leaving and that we have two weeks

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1146028698541946262006-04-25T23:06:00.000-05:002006-04-26T00:26:38.296-05:00

How to Stay in Your English Teacher's Good Graces: Etiquette for the Ex-StudentIf, after the semester is over, you decide you want to stay in contact with your English teacher, keep these helpful hints in mind as you strive to cultivate your relationship and extend it past the classroom.1. Limit the dropping by to once per month. Chances are your teacher has a fruitful academic life she must tend

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1146002785378843512006-04-25T16:24:00.000-05:002006-04-25T17:06:25.540-05:00

I Would Date Nick Lachey (This Will Surprise No One)I'm a sucker, sucker, sucker for boys who sing. I think I've been pretty consistent with that. I'm sure it has something to do with the Cousin's Ex who charmed me out of my socks in the eleventh grade. He sang. He was friends with boys who sang. Attractive singing boys. A whole group of them. During my junior year of high school, he went to both

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1145831924105363952006-04-23T16:07:00.000-05:002006-04-23T22:59:55.196-05:00

Sunday Thoughts(1)This has been The Weekend of Meat. Seriously, though. I've consumed (what should be) illegal amounts of meat products in the last two days. Last night's dinner was hamburgers and pork chops. Tonight, hamburgers and hotdogs.(2)My favorite quotable from this weekend is as follows: "No, really. You're so interesting. Plus you're a teacher. That's hot."(3)Becky, my dear friend and

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1145728376261792982006-04-22T11:41:00.000-05:002006-04-22T13:00:01.016-05:00

Things I Will Miss, Vol. 1Since my time here in Minnesota is winding down, I thought I should start accumulating a list of the things I am going to miss when I'm no longer nestled in the crook of southern Minnesota's soybean-y arm. Each week I'll have another thing--some big, some small--without which my life will be newly incomplete.Volume 1's topic? The Band of BrothersWhen I was in middle

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1145484213060167512006-04-19T16:41:00.000-05:002006-04-19T20:50:24.506-05:00

A Summary of the Reactions to My Hair(1) Katy read my blog before coming over for our meatloaf dinner. She called me immediately. "LOOK AT YOUR HAIR!" she cried. "You could put poop in it and it would still look good! You're a whore! A hair whore!"(2) Over the connection from New York, Amy told me she loved it. "I can't wait to touch iiiit," she said. (3) Hot Rob also seemed to think the cut was

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1145392820199763582006-04-18T15:04:00.000-05:002006-04-18T15:56:37.973-05:00

I Blame Spring and the Word SassyLet me tell you a story about my friend Moe. This is the girl who once vacuumed our glass coffee table. This is the girl who told me she was going to make me dinner one night and produced a pile of pellet-like rice pebbles on my plate. "I put all that water in the rice and it was just so much," she told me. "So I took most of it out. "That's my college roommate.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1145320967649573072006-04-17T19:05:00.000-05:002006-04-17T19:47:22.823-05:00

8,000 Miles From Where I've Been, Who Knows How Many Miles From Where I'll BeThere's a certain sense of calm on the other side of your thesis. I'm realizing this now. All of a sudden it feels like I've got a whole new life, a whole open world unfolding in front of me. I haven't had time to write in about three and a half weeks, and now I do. Later I am going to pour myself a glass of wine and

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1145031232775282072006-04-14T11:03:00.000-05:002006-04-14T11:13:52.916-05:00

IT'S DONE. Someone Give This Girl an EclairThey came, they signed, I submitted.Out of respect, I will not show the picture of my other committee member signing the four copies of my book. I do this because she didn't shower yesterday, and I don't want her to beat me up later, when we're at the bar. So, instead, here's a picture of me mere moments before going to the grad office to hand in my

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144902754480050752006-04-12T23:18:00.000-05:002006-04-12T23:35:07.246-05:00

Disturbing Things (courtesy of my students)I do not ask for this. I swear to God I do not.Contrary to popular opinion, I do not walk into class on the first day and say, "Hello, my name is Jessica. I'll be your instructor, and boy do I love stories that include uncomfortable sex scenes, so please, please, please feel free to include them in your narrative!"I do not talk about sex in class. Unless

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144809265063285732006-04-11T20:25:00.000-05:002006-04-11T21:41:33.273-05:00

Odds-n-Ends(1)My thesis is done. This is no small feat. I am now the proud author, the proud mama, of a book of short stories. A fine looking and fine sounding book of short stories.Behold, my table of contents in its sweet twelve point Californian font! I imagine writers have relationships with fonts like, uhm, doctors have with their stethoscopes. It's not what we do or create, but its the tool

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144691583811135512006-04-10T12:11:00.000-05:002006-04-10T13:10:03.866-05:00

Photographic Evidence of That Thing I Had to Do to GraduateI love reading out loud. I've always loved it, and for that I thank Aimee Nez, who required her undergraduate creative writing students at Fredonia to give a showcase of our work at the end of each semester. I've been groomed and practiced. And that's why I wasn't at all nervous about my thesis reading.Nope. Nope, not at all.Except that I

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144641296681407552006-04-09T22:50:00.000-05:002006-04-09T22:54:56.703-05:00

PreviewI can't even begin to describe the last 72 hours. I'll process and get back to you. Now I'm going to pour myself a glass of wine and do my taxes.Tomorrow there will be this and more:

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144422235178093452006-04-07T09:30:00.000-05:002006-04-07T10:12:11.706-05:00

Do You Beliiiiieve in Looove?The towns I've lived in over the course of my life haven't really been hotbeds of celebrity activity. The closest thing I ever got to a celeb-sighting was meeting a handful of Buffalo news anchors, several NASCAR drivers, and seeing Malik from one of the Real Worlds at the Buffalo airport.Last night, though, that all changed. My father's plane was delayed half an hour

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144217658356714952006-04-05T00:22:00.000-05:002006-04-05T16:36:03.903-05:00

I Love BuffaloStumbled on these tonight while trying to finish up some minor edits on the last three stories of my collection. I've selected my favorites and the ones I think seem most true.You Know You're From Buffalo If:1. Your kids grew up watching Sesame Street in French. {It's true. I learned to count to ten in French before the age of five. Our public television came in from Canada.}2. Your

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144212621629984052006-04-04T23:43:00.000-05:002006-04-04T23:52:34.616-05:00

PreviewCome one, come all to the thesis reading event of the week--nay!--century! If you do, you'll see a slideshow featuring gems like this:

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144105221529495192006-04-03T17:36:00.000-05:002006-04-03T18:01:09.463-05:00

Holy Crap, The Nerdiness That Is About to Be RevealedAs has been made clear in the past, I am a giant, giant, GIANT West Wing nerd. What will be revealed here will only support that, like, times infinity.Last night they finally got it together. Josh and Donna finally, finally, finally consummated their itchy seven year relationship. It's about damn time.I went into the episode prepared. After all

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1144005273788707232006-04-02T13:08:00.000-05:002006-04-02T14:14:33.943-05:00

World, Meet Todd (With Two D's)Last night I met Todd. Todd had the unlucky fortune to wander into Embers at 3:00 in the morning, when we were sitting over plates of Biscuits and Gravy and coffee cake. It was an unlucky fortune not because we shanked him and stole his money (although he did insist on giving Greg four dollars for the two cigarettes he bummed from him), but because he, in his

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1143832341371336112006-03-31T12:46:00.000-06:002006-03-31T13:12:21.526-06:00

Another One of Those Letters I Write to Cute BoysDear Soulful, Good-Lipped Boy Who Sang at Open Mic Last Night,Let's see... how can I put this into simple terms? I am in love with you.Or, to be more accurate, the idea of you. The idea of you is quite beautiful, in fact. Tall boy, beautiful boy. Boy who fits guitar into hands and sings "Trouble" by Ray LaMontagne. My God, I am in love with that

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1143757799287426262006-03-30T16:07:00.000-06:002006-03-30T16:31:59.923-06:00

Your Mother Once Trained Here to Be a NinjaToday was story circle day in class. I gave my students a very easy start. Fill in these blanks, I said. _______ and ________ picked up the _________ and held it in their hands.Go with it, I said. Write for three minutes. Go where the story takes you.After three minutes, I called time. Then everyone got up and shuffled to the seat to their right. Fifty

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1143670778532686682006-03-29T16:11:00.000-06:002006-03-29T16:47:00.776-06:00

A Big, Fat Celebratory PostAfter I found out I was being published I called pretty much everyone in the universe to tell them I was being published. And then I went and bought myself a bottle of my favorite cheap champagne. There's something really satisfying about the Ballatore bottle and its cork--thick, bulbous. Opening a bottle of Ballatore's Spumante is way sexier than trying to unwrench

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1143511622981198212006-03-27T17:15:00.000-06:002006-03-27T20:07:03.180-06:00

I AM BEING PUBLISHEDAnd it feels approximately like ThisAnd thisAnd like someone baked me 80 of these, gave me a fork and said, Go, girl, goAnd it definitely, absolutely, without a doubt feels like thisXO XO XO XO XO XO XO, Permafrost.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1143399197635799892006-03-26T12:09:00.000-06:002006-03-26T21:47:48.243-06:00

What The Words "Ave" & "Maria" Can Do for A GirlI remember once, when I was little, going in to confession and talking to our hunched and hobbled priest about my sins. My sins. I was so young, so far away from any sin of consequence, so I told him that sometimes I smarted off to my parents and that, really, I didn't always like my baby brother all that much. He was a pain, after all, and got in

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1143346622003944982006-03-25T21:53:00.000-06:002006-03-25T22:21:17.933-06:00

This Roommate, She's Not So Good for the Self EsteemMostly because she has a boyfriend who is beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I don't envy the fact that she serves herself on tiny plates to make her portions look bigger or that she seems to eat only egg white omelets and toast with butter-tasting spray soaked onto it. I don't envy her cute workout clothes, because she always seems to be wearing

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1143163139842312742006-03-23T19:05:00.000-06:002006-03-23T19:18:59.963-06:00

A Love Letter to KatyDear Katy,Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Today you can finally breathe. You are done with your thesis. DONE!Now I have unfettered access to you again. Now when I call and say, "Katy, can we please go shop for underwear and buy cheap bottles of pink Andre?" you have no choice but to say, "Yes, Jess, because I love you so much." instead of, "No, Jess, because

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1142981501164177682006-03-21T14:25:00.000-06:002006-03-21T16:57:37.916-06:00

How I Know Aliens Didn't Take Over the Earth While I SleptBecause when I woke up, the first song on the radio was not the Gin Blossoms' "Hey Jealousy," which is the song the squat, gelatinous aliens who took over the Earth in my dreams last night decided could be the ONLY song to play on the radio. Not even just the radio. Anywhere. It was the only song that could be played ever.In my dreams I

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1142893965611813622006-03-20T15:55:00.000-06:002006-03-20T19:45:01.996-06:00

Hear That? It's the Sound of the Universe Making Complete Sense.I've played this game before. The Which Celebrity Face Does My Face Look Like game. Well, today I was playing it again, but this time I also threw up a picture of the Wily Republican, just to see which celebrities the computer thinks he most resembles.His number one match? Jared Leto, the love of my life. Another of his matches? Ian

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1142828717354968022006-03-19T22:24:00.000-06:002006-03-20T00:12:41.383-06:00

Dress Shopping, Drag Shows, Vomit: It's Jess's Spring Break in Review!Since it was decidedly too wintery to go to Duluth this weekend for the marveling at the shoreline, Megan and I did other things. I got to get out of Mankato for days and days and, well, Megan got to throw up at a bar in Minneapolis. But I'm getting ahead of myself.1. My DressMuch of my time up in the cities was spent looking

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1142544566422617562006-03-16T13:54:00.000-06:002006-03-16T15:33:17.996-06:00

Photos Courtesy of $5 Cup Night at the Crappy Country-Themed BarI'm the type of girl who likes Wednesday nights in this town. Wednesday nights are pitcher nights at Blue Bricks, where a girl can get a big pitcher or Long Island Iced Teas or Sex on the Beach for $6. Well, the newest bar downtown is now running its own special on Wednesday night: $5 cup night.I wish there had been $5 cup night when

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1142397340782509142006-03-14T21:43:00.000-06:002006-03-14T22:42:04.106-06:00

Reporting Live from Spring Break1.I am playing OAR pretty much 24/7. It reminds me of Fredonia and sweaty basement parties in houses that had cereal boxes on the walls in lieu of wallpaper. It makes me feel like I should be drinking cold beer or a Hurricane.2. This morning it took me 20 minutes to chip my way through the layer of ice that coated my car. Merry spring to you, too, Minnesota!3.I

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1142292897980088702006-03-13T17:00:00.000-06:002006-03-13T17:34:58.100-06:00

Headline: Naked Boy Borrows MilkIt's officially my spring break. This means that I get to sleep in, eat breakfast at 11:00, and catch up on episodes of What Not to Wear.Which is precisely what I was doing this morning at 11:22 when there was a knock on my door. The knock made me panic. I was wearing penguin pajama pants and an old Fred Fest T-shirt--the one with the gawky, squawky bird on it.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1142148339731710632006-03-11T19:47:00.000-06:002006-03-12T01:33:26.573-06:00

Nothing Now Without You. Maybe it's just this: I'm sadder than I pretend I am. I think I tend to be very transparent, but I don't know if that's true. I won't lie. Things around here lately have been bad. I am getting tired of the program and my peers and the sizzle in the atmosphere. I'm sick of walking on eggshells, afraid that someone is always on the verge of exploding. Each day it's

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1141974676994387532006-03-09T23:52:00.000-06:002006-03-10T01:16:59.420-06:00

Brian Krakow LivesTonight Kristin wore her nerdiness with pride. She showed up at my apartment wearing a Driveshaft shirt--a shirt that was made for a fake band from the TV show Lost.I won't mock her. I refuse. I have nerdiness like that, except mine doesn't go out into public on a t-shirt. If I could find a t-shirt for my brand of nerdiness, I'd wear it. I'd wear it with pride.My Nerdy Zone--big

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1141793342440044332006-03-07T20:55:00.000-06:002006-03-07T22:49:02.566-06:00

My Future Plans Include Visiting Something That's Billed as "Across from the Wild Rice Depot!"Many of my peers and colleagues are headed to Austin and its glorious 80 degree weather for AWP. Many of my students are half or completely checked-out and headed toward their spring breaks in Cozumel, St. Lucia, Barbados, or Miami, where they will binge drink and take strange people back to their hotel

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1141694602235737532006-03-06T19:07:00.000-06:002006-03-06T19:27:39.890-06:00

Of All Things, I Miss the Magnolias the MostTonight I am turning up "Letter from Bilbao" by Lowest of the Low. Tonight I am drinking a new bottle of wine. Tonight I am wishing I were far away from this small town. Tonight I am trying not to be consumed with thoughts of my alma mater.It's hard, though. I've got a new ending coming soon, and I can't help but think of the last town and college I

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1141582814647880272006-03-05T12:03:00.000-06:002006-03-05T17:32:32.276-06:00

I Worship at My (Ex) Roommate's AltarYesterday I talked myself out of being sick for a few hours and drove to the southwest corner of Minnesota to see my former roommate perform in a musical revue. Jazz hands!As we seated ourselves in the second row--oh-so close to the band and the performers--I made Megan promise that she would not, not, not try to get me to dance. This happened the last time I

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1141344978762184272006-03-02T18:04:00.000-06:002006-03-02T18:16:18.800-06:00

Why This Was A Good Day1.Went and made these for the Good Thunder party tonight. There are some with surpriiiises inside, but I can't reveal that yet: 1.a.Got to frost cupcakes and have a rum and coke at 2:00 in the afternoon.1.b.Got to frost cupcakes and have a rum and coke at 2:00 in the afternoon and listen to ABBA.2.Talked to Panko, who answered like this: "I looked at my phone and the caller

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1141182874595653602006-02-28T20:45:00.000-06:002006-02-28T21:14:35.713-06:00

Reporting Live from Minnesota1.The job hunt? We're now ringing in at 13 rejections. This from a pile of 46 applications I've sent out. More to come. Still, I liked when that rejection number was smaller--say, like, six--and I'm starting to feel like I might chew my fingernails clean off if I don't know in the next few months where I am going to be after my lease expires in July.2.The above

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1141099745704626202006-02-28T12:07:00.000-06:002006-02-28T13:00:24.690-06:00

Best Conversation with a Best Friend, 82nd EditionAmy: Want to get married?Me: Uhm, YES. I wake up every morning and ask God why we haven't done it yet.Amy: Me too.

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1141076521975783502006-02-27T14:32:00.000-06:002006-02-27T15:52:24.536-06:00

I Rescind My TitlePart One: BackgroundIn high school, Amy and her very cool cousins--the ones who had cars eons before we did and were therefore saddled with the unfortunate task of driving us to the mall or Flix--talked a lot about the notion of being bold. They went back and forth, trying to decide which of them was the boldest. The Queen of Bold. Bold was defined as being brassy, brazen, and

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1140929437890863512006-02-25T22:24:00.000-06:002006-02-26T12:03:26.640-06:00

I Have Never Been So in Love, Part TwoWisconsin? We killed you, suckers.It was a brilliant weekend. Absolutely golden and brilliant. It was everything I wanted to see but didn't think I would. It was the best, best, best set of games I've ever seen the Mavericks play. Tonight we topped Wisconsin 7-3. Tonight hotdogs were $1. Tonight I got to hear that Ole! song pretty much more than I've heard it

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1140903554768984782006-02-25T13:13:00.000-06:002006-02-25T15:39:14.880-06:00

I Have Never Been So in LoveI pledge my undying love to the Maverick hockey team. Forever and ever, amen.I know I've said that before, but this time I mean it on a whole new level.Last night and tonight will be the last two hockey games I watch here in Mankato. My last weekend with the Mavs, with the attractive injured and suited players who sit behind us, with Thundersticks, with Civic Center

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1140762169847976262006-02-23T23:21:00.000-06:002006-02-24T00:34:48.593-06:00

Five Things to Hate Today1. The phrase "me and my girlfriend"2. The Wily Republican3. The Wily Republican's girlfriend, whoever she is4. Myself5. {See Number Three}~~~Okay, today might have been a bad day. That seems really unfortunate, since last night was so fun. There was a Writers' Bloc, and I swear to God I haven't been to one that good since I was a first-year, and I won't even mention the

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1140737531860856272006-02-23T16:40:00.000-06:002006-02-23T17:38:53.080-06:00

Olympic Crush UpdatesI am convinced that Tanith Belbin and Ben Agosto are pretty much the most beautiful figure skating pair ever. When I see him, I think smoldering. When I see her, I think hottest girl ever.I could develop a love for them that would compete with (but not quite rival) my love for Gordeeva and Grinkov. I mean, don't even get me started on them:Oh how my grandmother and I loved

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1140562758840213342006-02-21T16:24:00.000-06:002006-02-23T21:46:55.406-06:00

I'm in the Wrong BusinessThis teaching thing--man, I don't know. I love it and all, but it's not something you get into for the big bucks. And I realize there is more to life (and teaching) than the big bucks, but big bucks are also nice. Now, the sex toy business... I think that's where all the untapped big bucks have been hiding.This weekend Megan, my former roommate, had a sex toy party. I

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5578180.post-1140378624774305542006-02-19T13:04:00.000-06:002006-02-19T13:51:06.490-06:00

Sunday Olympic Crush. Also: It's Daytona.Rick DiPietro, I love you.You are all that is good and right about the world. Well, except for those rumors on the internet discussion boards that claim you have herpes and that you beat your girlfriend.I choose to ignore that until it's proven true. Until then, I pledge my love. You're too beautiful to ignore.You had a good game today, even if Team USA

Jesshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08969865982545328618noreply@blogger.com3