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2:43 p.m. : 2002-07-20 : Portrait of the Goddess as a Young Human and If I Were Any Flakier I'd Be Dandruff (it's ok to call myself a Goddess as long as I'm self-deprecating in the same breath)

My Bredoteau basket is full!

Crazy is that last night on my way back from dropping Kristin off after watching Am�lie, I noticed a package from my Dad on the floor that contained, not unlike Dominique Bretodeau�s tin box, a trove of things from my childhood. It was such a glaring coincidence that I wept as I looked through old cards from my Dad�s mom, Nanny, notes from my Mom, my first tooth that had been �taken� by the �Tooth Fairy,� my First Holy Communion certificate from church, the note I had left for the �Easter Bunny� and the note I got back. There were also letters from my sister Karen from college and from Mary who was living in Los Angeles at the time (my sister who is closest to me in age is twelve and a half years older than I am. I wasn�t a �mistake,� I was a �surprise.� All I know is that my brother was pissed I was a girl. He�s the only boy out of five of us and wanted to make a case for leaving the seat up). Also enclosed were some pre-two-n-Jen odd things I had drawn or painted and can�t quite make sense of, like this:

I'm thinking I had just seen Kiss Me Kate and was inspired by "Brush Up Your Shakespeare," the only real funny number in the otherwise overrated yawn-fest (although "It's Too Darn Hot" is a great song, but the show is certainly not Cole Porter's best as many say. I say to them, "go watch High Society for fuck's sake").

There is also a story I wrote called �Happy Jack,� full of brilliant repetition and intrigue, and it foreshadows my passionate love affair with a food service boy of my own. I may have stolen the idea from somewhere, too. This happened with another story of mine�something like �Ten Million Kittens.� It sounds like a Russ Meyer movie! (By the way, if you want a total mind-fuck, go watch Beyond the Valley of the Dolls. Roger Ebert co-wrote it and it�s worth seeing just to never look at him the same again, especially when he starts talking about his distaste for gratuitous sex. There�s a crazy lesbian scene just thrown in there that has absolutely no relevance to the already swiss-cheezy plot� two thumbs indeed�up your ass! I mean, I just heard him the other day talking about this movie that he thought had too much raunchiness going on and I�m thinking to myself��Dude! You co-wrote a movie with a guy who created the sexploitation genre!�) Anyway, with no further ado, here�s �Happy Jack�:

Jack got a new job. Jack was a waiter. Aunt Millie, Aunt Jo and Aunt Flo were hungry. Jack was hungry too. Aunt Millie wanted some soup. Jack got the soup. �Let me taste the soup,� said Jack. Jack dropped the soup. Jack spilled the soup�all over Aunt Millie. Aunt Millie was not happy. Aunt Jo wanted some cake. Jack got the cake. �Let me taste the cake,� said Jack. Jack dropped the cake. Jack spilled the cake�all over Aunt Jo. Aunt Jo was not happy. Aunt Flo wanted some pie. Jack got the pie. �Let me taste the pie,� said Jack. Jack dropped the pie. Jack spilled the pie�all over Aunt Flo. Aunt Flo was not happy. Aunt Millie, Aunt Jo and Aunt Flo were not happy. They were still hungry. Jack was hungry, too. Jack got a new job. Aunt Flo, Aunt Millie and Aunt Jo were happy. Jack was happy, too!

That�s a far cry from Joan Didion�s first story which was tale of a woman who dreamed she was freezing to death in the Arctic, only to wake up and find herself in the scorching heat of the Sahara. She was writing freaking courtly love stories at five, a time when I was already clearly obsessed with food�or spilling it on my aunts. I should bring it to my therapist and see what she thinks. There I go, trying to analyze the fun out of it!

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Here�s a treat for all y�all who stuck around long enough to read all of this self-indulgent early Jenn goodness:

Full of flake as I am, I made plans with Susan after having already made plans with Kristin to try to get tickets to see Neil Finn tonight and hope Susan isn�t mad at me.

That cute face couldn�t be mad at me for long, right?

You can�t stay mad at this face for long, right? RIGHT?!!! I�ll make you dinners! Turkey dinners and chickens! And corns on the cobs!

Word of the Day for Saturday July 20, 2002:

apostasy uh-POS-tuh-see, noun:

Total desertion or departure from one's faith, principles, or party.

Party loyalty was fierce, political apostasy despised, and breakaway movements and third parties rarely exercised more than temporary influence. --Edward Ranson, "Electing a president, 1896," [1]History Today, October 1, 1996

The French were advancing the holy cause of liberty; any American who criticized them was guilty of "apostasy" and "heresies." --Richard Brookhiser, "In Love With evolution," [2]New York Times, November 17, 1996

No sooner did it become clear that this was how I really felt, and that I fully intended to carry on with the war I had started against those ideas, than the exculpatory explanation for my apostasy was dropped, and in its place came shock and a deep sense of betrayal. --Norman Podhoretz, [3]Ex-Friends

Apostasy is derived from Greek apostasis, "a standing away from, a defection, a revolt," from aphistanai, "to stand off or away from, to revolt," from apo-, "from, away from" +histanai, "to stand."

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I declare this blog �old timey,� ya flibbertigibbet! - 2012-05-27

I Heart Heart Of Gold! - 2006-03-27

Catster, Geezster - 2005-12-20

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'Cuz We Need A Little Christmas... - 2005-12-06

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