I've Been Doing A Lot Of Thinking.

And the thing is, I love you.

"What's so bad about this? You've got Dick Clark, that's tradition. You've got Mallomars, the greatest cookie of all time. And you're about to give the Knicks their first championship since 1973."

Happy New Year! May 2010 be the year that you realize you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.  

At Citibank We Will Meet Accidentally.

I don't know why banks give out lollipops, but I enjoy it. Whenever I see a grown-up walking down the street with a sucker, I know they've just come from the bank-- because where else would an adult get such a sad looking lollipop? Actually, walking down the street with that cheap lollipop stick hanging out of your mouth is is like wearing a t-shirt that says, "Yes, Robber. I have cash." 

I've never really thought about that before. Maybe I should stop taking them. 

Anyway, I was at the bank filling something out at the counter and started sorting through the basket looking for a red.  Putting it in my pocket, I started to sort through again before taking another one. Looking over to the girl standing next to me, I smiled meekly, saying, "I'm that girl."

Shrugging her shoulders before grabbing a handful of suckers, she replied, "It's OK. I don't even bank here."

And Mall Parking Lots On Holidays.

My sisters and I went shopping on Christmas Eve because we love crowds, and angry salespeople, and waiting in ridiculous lines. If you go into these situations knowing how terrible they are, they actually become amazing. Playing games like, "Who hates the holidays more?" where you compare the miserable faces of shoppers, or creating the voice-overs for people screaming in their cars while trying to find a parking spot, is a guaranteed way to make the whole outing more enjoyable. 

You should really just go for the parking lot people-watching alone. It's classic. Watching people try to find a parking spot on days like Christmas Eve allows one to witness the entire spectrum of human emotion. Eventually, they just start trailing people with bags and the whole, "I'm not leaving!" thing starts.  But all the exaggerated pointing, and waving, and over-emphasized speech as people try to talk to other people through their cars with the windows rolled up-- it's funny. 

While circling around for our own space, Nessa came up with a brilliant idea for a video art piece where you just back in and out of a parking spot for a few hours on a busy shopping day to see how people react. 

I'd watch it.  

You're Welcome.

I debated not posting this, but 'tis the season for giving. Happy Christmas.

The 1950's Called.

They want their game show answers back.

This post could also be called, "These idiots will clap for anything."

The last time I watched The Family Feud was a few years ago and the survey question asked to 100 people was, "As good as?" 

When a member of one of the families answered, "Pie!" I told myself that I was no longer allowed to watch the show.

But when I had time to kill in front of the television yesterday, I thought I'd check in for 5-minutes to see if things have improved.

This is basically a transcript from the show because I ended up recording it and playing it back in complete disbelief.  

Host: We surveyed 100 married women and asked, when your husband is ignoring you, name something you can do that will certainly get his attention.

Dan: Not do his laundry!

[X]

Graceila: Wear something sexy!

[Ding]

Graceila: We're going to play!

Host: OK, according to 100 married women, when your husband is ignoring you, name something you can do to get his attention.

Graceila's daughter: Stop cooking dinner!

Family: Good answer! Good answer!

[X]

Graceila's other daughter: Start nagging!

Host: When in doubt, start nagging!

[X]

-Throw something at him!

[Ding]

-Cry!

Host: Show me, Cry!

[X]

So three x's, they switch to the other family.

Host: Dan, give me one good answer.  When your husband is ignoring you, name something you can do to get his attention.

Dan: Spend his money!

Family: Good answer!!!!

[X]

Host: Let's reveal the #1 answer. According to 100 married women, something you can do when your husband is ignoring you?

Note: This is where both families and the entire audience repeat whatever they see on the answer board in unison like it was the most obvious answer in the world. It's the collective Duh! moment. As good as pie? No, moron. As good as IT GETS. (in unison, followed by applause sign.)

Host: Survey says...

Entire audience: 'GET NAKED!' (palm to forehead. Of course! But what about when you're being ignored in public? Oh, no matter. Good answer!).

Host: And the other answer?

Entire Audience: FLIRT/GET IT ON! 

Obviously. Because nothing sets the mood quite like being ignored and throwing shit at people.

Every Christmas Song Should Be This Good.

If you've never played this game with someone, where you try to create and sing a song together at the same time, you've never really taken full advantage of the following:

-Long road trips 

-Short road trips

-Being drunk

-Being bored

It's instant fun and instant hilarious and my father kind of invented it. 

Happy Holidays, From The MBTA.

I realized a little too late last night on the train ride home that I had inadvertently sat across from a crazy person. I've built up quite a tolerance to this so I'm never really bothered by anything anyone says anymore, but this guy had me seriously concerned for about 6 stops.

Guy: It's all about child support and credit cards, Teddy. Child support and credit cards.

Me: [Close eyes.]

Guy: And somebody thinks they wanna control the taste? I don't think so! Hey, Teddy!

Me: [Thinking] Am I Teddy?

Guy: That's when I say to them, pow! pow! pow! I'll rip your face off.

Me: Oh, shit.

Guy: So if your face gets ripped, come see me.

Me: [Thinking] I should probably get off the train now.

Guy: Credit cards! Pow Pow Pow!

This is where a nice little internal debate began. Clearly, this man was not well, and had some ideas about faces, but if I got off the train before my stop I'd have to wait for another one and who knows how long that might take. So, do I risk him getting upset that Teddy isn't responding, and possibly have my face ripped off (pow pow), or get off the train and freeze while waiting for another one? Either way, the options for my face weren't looking good. 

I stayed on the train without incident.  Everyone's face was ok. 

Just Looking.

A Relax The Back store, which appears to deal exclusively in massage chair sales, has opened near work.  Without seeing the business plan for this company, and without any actual knowledge of massage furniture sales, let me tell you why this business will fail:  People who test out massage chairs are not looking to buy a massage chair.  They're looking for a free massage and 15-minutes of doing that weird vibrating "ahhhhhhhahhh" noise.

How many times a day do you think a Relax The Back salesman hears, "Just looking"? If they made the career move over from Brookstone, they're probably used to it by now. 

Everybody knows this is how a typical sales conversation at Brookstone goes:

Salesperson: Can I help you find anything?

Customer: Oh no, I don't think so. I'm just gonna play with this robot dog for a little bit, fuck around with the indoor helicopter, and then probably fall asleep in the massage chair until somebody asks me to leave.  Thanks though.

The Truth.

Sometimes rinsing out an empty peanut butter jar seems like the hardest thing you'll do all day. I bet even the staunchest environmentalists grimace a little when the peanut butter runs out. No one likes to rinse that jar.

I Don't Get Sick. (cough cough... puke).

In spite of my self-diagnosed hypochondria, I've been fortunate enough to avoid a string of colds, coughs, flu viruses, fevers, and becoming pregnant without knowing it before giving birth in the toilet. Have people seen the show about that one? Every episode ends the same way: "And then, looking back at her from the toilet..." It's really horrible.

Anyway, I was enjoying a fantastic weekend in NY up until Sunday night when V and I became violently ill at around the same time. Technically, she became sick a few hours before me, and I remember saying, "I feel fine! I'm having more pizza!" I later paid for that.

People, this wasn't your average bout with food poisoning or a little upset tumtum. We're talking cartoon-like illness here.  The kind that has you pleading to a higher power in the bathroom of your sister's apartment.  About three hours in, I even lacked the good sense to sing "There's the girl that I like..." to myself before getting sick. It was bad.

Luckily, Brina was there.  The girl has the bedside manner of a drill sergeant, but the needs-anticipation skills of, well, say, an event planner.  As Nessa and I ran back and forth to the bathroom all night, all we heard from Brina's room was, "AGAIN?!" But miraculously by morning, everything we needed was within arms reach of our sofas.

Brina: I did some research and you're most likely dehydrated. Drink this, and this, and this. Take this now, and this in 6 hours. Eat this banana, and these saltines, and there's organic applesauce and peanut butter if you're up to it.  I'll make orzo soup when I come home from work.  Here's your phone, which is charging over here. Here's the computer, fully charged. All of the remotes, space heater on, extra blankets, Christmas lights on or off? I'll wait here while you drink that and refill. OK, I'm late. I'll call this afternoon.

It was as well-planned as being sick could be. And just one mention of, "It smells disgusting in here."

Later that night, desperately craving our soup, we called her and she said, "OK, I'm just going to run into the first half of this concert I have tickets for, but I'll probably leave during intermission.  I'll make your soup when I get home."

Too weak to argue, I slowly hung up and ate another sleeve of saltines. Under my breath and under my blankets I softly said in a whine, "I want my fucking soup."  

When I woke up again at 1:00 in the morning, the cold bowl of orzo was by the rest of my Grandpa Joe setup by the sofa. Girl of her word. 

Bri just called me to say she was home sick.  Wish I could repay the favor.

Note: Instant rad if you get the grandpa joe reference.  

If You Were A Tree...

I've experienced comments and questions about my height since I was a little kid.  Once when I was like nine, a toddler came up and held my hand thinking I was his mother.  

I was nine.

So it's never anything new when someone asks me to reach for something, or stand back to back with their tallest friend. But this was an exchange I had with a coworker yesterday about the tree she bought for Christmas: 

Coworker: And we got such a great deal on it. It was only like $22!

Me: Oh wow, that's crazy.  But is it like a Charlie Brown Tree?

Coworker: No, it's big! It's like your size.

Right.

Around the holiday season, it's not uncommon to have someone hold a sweater or a shirt up to your body and say, "That looks like your size." But I think I'm the first to have that done with a Christmas tree.

Good One.

I love that this story is getting national attention for three reasons:

1) That picture is awesome and reminds me of a story. (To follow.)

2) Local news is pathetic, but dedicating 2-minutes to a high school yearbook story might be a new low. That's what high school news shows are for.

3) Wearing a t-shirt with her own face on it kind of makes me think we're on the verge of a whole new generation of message tees. "I'm With Her." "She's With Me" "Can I help you?" 

Arrows will be involved.

Note: My boss was saying that she doesn't like when pregnant women wear message t-shirts about their babies. I have to agree, except I wouldn't mind seeing a maternity shirt that says, "There's somebody in here!"

Anyway, about that yearbook photo story. 

One year in band (no comments, please) everyone dressed in uniform and went to the front of the school for group shots for the yearbook.  The photographer was standing on the roof of the school and it was sort of a big production to get everyone organized.  Bored out of our minds, my buddy Matt thought it would be a good idea to horn pop drastically every time the photographer took a picture. I agreed. So picture after picture, Matt and I would lean back as far as possible, shooting our saxophones into the air, while everyone else just stayed standing still.  It gave us a good laugh, photo shoot ended, class dismissed.

About three weeks later, the two of us were asked to meet with our band director in his office. Closing his door, and asking us if we knew why we were there, we both shook our heads.  I honestly had no idea. Opening up a large envelope, our teacher pulled out the pictures and slowly lined his desk with them.  

They. Were. HILARIOUS.

  

Even though these were large group shots, we totally stuck out and our faces were eerily similar to the girl in the news story. In many of the shots, Matt had taken his saxophone apart and was just holding a mouthpiece in the air. In others, we were basically on the ground in limbo-like stance. 

I have never wanted to burst out laughing so badly in all of my life. But standing in the band director's office listening to him yell at us, I figured my timing might be off.  When I'm not able to laugh, my eyes water. A lot. So he probably thought I was pretty upset about the whole thing as I stood there crying. When we were finally dismissed, we basically rolled into the hall laughing.

Just like the girl in the news story, none of our pictures made the yearbook either. 

Matt was later arrested for gang-related activities. 

I like reminiscing. 

Can't Wait Three Minutes?

While waiting for my popcorn to pop last night, I finished half a box of crackers. I remember reasoning to myself, "Well, I've got a few minutes to kill. Might as well have a snack." 

Ironically enough, that's how the first buffet started. 

Clearly, I've never done this before.

This is my bio for the agency website.  I didn't understand the assignment.

Jessica Martin grew up on her family’s farm in Brockport, New York.  She spent her formative years talking to herself in the mirror and memorizing lines from Full House episodes. She graduated from Syracuse University with a degree in Television, Radio and Film and that proved to be worthwhile in that she still enjoys all of those things.  After living in San Francisco, New York, and Boston, Jessica has learned the importance of light layers, irony, and remembering how people take their coffee.  

A fortune cookie once told her that she finds beauty in ordinary things, and she liked this.  But then another fortune cookie told her that she liked horse racing and gambling, but not to excess, so she’s not entirely sure what to believe.  She sort of thinks fortune cookies should stop pretending they know her so well. 

Open-Eyed Sneeze is her first book. 

j mo.

Notice: J Lo's new song Louboutins has been remixed for the sensible lesbian. 

The hook is now, "I'm putting my black Converse on."

Thank You.