Response to an Australian friend on "Why is 9/11 such a big deal?"

If you want to know what happened on 9/11, you can find a bazillion different websites offering different views, different perspectives, different theories and different degrees of memorialization. But you didn't ask what happened. You asked why it was such a big deal. So... Settle in, my lovely... These are the Words According to Jacque, and thus, should not be counted as gospel or truth, but merely an opinion... an unresearched and uncited opinion. Any facts I use to back up my arguments will not refer to their source and should, therefore, be taken with a grain of sand. It is the first thing a researcher must do to separate fact from fiction. Facts can easily be made up... but facts and opinions backed up with legitimate sources are more credible than those that cannot be.

With that out of the way... Why was 9/11 such a big deal?

I could start with the facts that most of us know by now. The whole two planes crashed into the World Trade Center thing... the whole two big buildings fell down and lots of people died. This is like saying that a grocery store sells food. It's narrowing down a million different individual pieces of information, twisting each thread into one huge generalization. Each of those pieces of information is important though. I'm not going to get into specifications on most of those pieces of information. I will tell you my opinion on why the events of 9/11 are such a big deal.

First... Let me paint you a picture of America pre-2001. American History... it's long, drawn out, going back a long time... but not super long. First there were the Indians who lived here. Then Vikings came and did Viking stuff along the coasts - buried treasure and all that jazz. Then Christopher Columbus, the idiot, thought he was sailing from Spain to India, but he got all confused because he forgot to stop to ask for directions and ran into land... so he called the people he saw Indians because he was a white man and white men are never wrong... So, people were like 'Wow, land? Let's settle it and claim it in the name of (insert country name here)!' So people from Spain came over, and from England, and from France and everyone was like 'I saw it first! It's mine!'... and they got all fight-y about it... So there were wars and stuff... and the English were being such douche bags about it that everyone who settled here got mad... they were like 'Don't tell us what to do! We're over here on this side of the water and you're over there on that side of the water and you can't control me!'... and the English were like 'Yes we can!'... and the French were like 'Eh, that's not nice. We don't like the English' so they helped the colonists fight the English because they were fuckers.

Okay... so that's this whole Revolutionary war thing... where we (the colonists) fought for independence from self important imperialists (England). Long story short, the colonists won the war and  1776, they decided to write up a piece of paper that said "Hey, ya'll, we're a country." That's the Declaration of Independence. It's an important document to us. Like the Constitution.

The important thing about this is this: The United States was founded on the idea of Freedom. Okay. Freedom. What is it? (Alright, I know I said I wouldn't cite my sources, but it gets pounded into you when you're writing papers for classes, so I can't help it... and this is a VERY important point I'm trying to make - the basis for my entire argument right here... so... I'm gonna get all scholarly and shit. Deal.)  According to Dictionary.com, Freedom is... wow... it's a lot of things... but I'm going to pick and choose from the definitions it gives to give you an idea of what freedom is to an American.

Freedom is: "the state of being free or at liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint."

It is: "exemption from external control, interference, regulation, etc."

It is: "civil liberty, as opposed to subjection to an arbitrary or despotic government."

It is: "the right to enjoy all the privileges or special rights of citizenship, membership, etc., in a community or the like."

Freedom is a lot of things. There's a bajillion different definitions on Dictionary.com... but I realized as I was transferring them here that I'm making this boring. Scholarly shit is boring. This is not scholarly. This is... well, it's me trying to 'splain somethin.

Essentially, some of the main things you need to think about, the most important thing you need to know about America is that we were founded on freedoms. Freedom of religion. Freedom of speech. Freedom of the press. Lots of Freedoms, lots of Rights... Because at the beginning, we were all sick of being oppressed by that dude over in England. (He liked to tax us, so we threw tea in the harbor to piss him off)

Ok... so.. 1776, this country was founded... Yay. There was a civil war in the 1800s between the north and the south, people who wanted to abolish slavery vs people who didn't... it was nasty... but we got over it. The north won, slavery was abolished, cotton still grew.

Our country got to be pretty proud of itself... I mean, we're kinda a new-ish country... and we were prosperous and we could be pretty much self sufficient without the need to have to trade with other countries... but we decided we liked electronics, so we traded wth Japan... and we liked cheap plastic crap so we traded with Taiwan... that kinda thing... But essentially, we got big heads... we got comfortable... In the early 1900s, WWI broke out in Europe... and we came in with this "Don't worry, we'll fix it" mentality... and we were on the winning side! Yay! So we decided "Hey, guess what! We're military geniuses and we like to keep the peace, so we're going to put people in your country to tell you how to run your country because our Democracy thing is fucking awesome and ya'll should do it too..."

Well, some people didn't like that. Like Japan.

During WWII, America once again was all "Hey ya'll should stop fighting because we said so and we're awesome because we have all these freedoms and stuff"... And Japan was like "Fuck you" and they bombed Pearl Harbor (It's in Hawaii). So America went from being the biggest bully on the playground to suddenly getting slapped in the face in front of the whole world by this tiny little Asian kid...

Yeah... It wasn't pretty. It was the first time war had ever been brought to American soil. The Revolutionary war didn't count because we weren't a country then... and the civil war didn't count because that was us hating on each other. This was a foreign country bitchslapping us...

So yeah... we did the whole WWII thing, fought, killed people, won... Got to be the biggest bully on the playground again after bombing the everloving fuck out of that tiny Asian kid, putting him in a fucking coma.

And then 9/11 happened... 60 years later. (Irony = The movie, Pearl Harbor, was released in 2001.... the same year as the second attack on American soil....)

Ok.... So... why is 9/11 a big deal?

On September 11, 2001, I was 19. I was home alone. My parents were in Colorado for the summer, which was normal for them. I had class that morning. Gerontology - the study of old people... normally I slept through the class because it was an early morning class and I generally didn't give a shit. I took the class only to get my sociology credit and rationalized it to myself that my parents were old... so I was learning about my parents.

My alarm woke me up that morning. It was set to the radio. When my alarm went off, it was nothing but sirens... screams... chaos... pandemonium. Not a normal thing to wake up t, and definitely sets your mood for the day. I went upstairs to flip on the tv and I saw the World Trade Center, one of the buildings, smoking. What the fuck? At this point, I wasn't creeped out or anything... shit happens. Wow that sucks, hope everyone's okay, gotta get to class.

And then, as I stood there, I watched the second plane fly into the second tower... right... there... live...

Just like practically all of America... we watched these people fly into this building... we watched these people die.

Still, we stood there, watching the tv, the entire country was crowded around televisions, radios... all of us... the ENTIRE COUNTRY... watching this... because someone hijacked these planes... At first, there was so much confusion about everything. We thought bombs, we thought... accident?... but that second plane... the one we all watched... As a country, we all gasped, our hands to our mouths in horror... All of us... as one.

We thought it was over then... the attack was done. Clean up the wreckage, move on.... And then the first building started falling.... The World Trade Center was like a national icon... It was to New York what the Statue of Liberty is... It was to New York what the Golden Gate Bridge is to San Francisco, what the Pyramids are to Egypt... what the Opera House is to Sydney.... In that moment, the World Trade Center WAS America...

And it was falling.

There were thousands of people still inside... trying to get out... calling home for help... jumping from the windows to plummet to their deaths just to escape the hell of the fire that was inside.

That was just when one building fell.

And then... the other fell.

Just like that... All those lives... all that symbolism... nothing but smoke...ash...

The whole country watched the whole thing.

So why was 9/11 such a big deal? Because it wasn't just America that it hit... I was 19 years old... living in Omaha, Nebraska... middle of the country... far far away from the World Trade Center... I knew nobody in New York... I knew nobody directly impacted by a death, a loss, a missing person... But I will NEVER forget 9/11...

After this happened... I decided I didn't want to be alone. I drove to my best friend's house... and I took watercolors and paper... and we sat and talked about it, painting on her porch. It was eerie... because not only were there not a single plane in the sky... (there was a no fly rule across the whole country that day... Although President Bush flew into the Air Force Base just south of Omaha and we watched his plane, terrified that it was another hijacked plane, that it would crash into us...) The birds wouldn't even sing. There was no traffic. Everything was... dead. It was like everyone just... held their families close that day... everything else was put on hold and we all... held on to what we had.

What was 9/11 such a big deal? Because we all watched it happen. We all saw them die. We could do nothing... and we learned then that we really aren't the biggest meanest boys on the playground anymore.

We got a taste of our own mortality.

And we didn't like it.

Thoughts on Parasites

Every morning, when the alarm goes off far earlier than I would like, I find myself reluctantly pulled from typically the most interesting dreams of the night and thrust into this nightmare known as ‘Responsibility.’ First, before I continue, I’d like to send an imaginary middle finger to the concept of responsibility. 

Alright, that done, I would like to give you, my imaginary reader, the heebie jeebies… (otherwise known as the willies, the jitters, the creeps, et cetera)… I guess I’m sadistic like that. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!

After being pulled into reality every morning, I begin my normal daily routine. I won’t get too in depth about the boringness that is my life, but I will give you a wee glimpse. After yawning like a grizzly bear post-hibernation, I lumber out of the bedroom in a rather disgruntled fashion. My minion, Savannah, follows me sleepily, but, as is normal for her, happily. Sometimes I wish I was a dog. They’ve got it so easy. Every morning, I devote a few moments to scratching her behind the ears, kissing the velvet soft fur between her ear and the top of her head, letting her know that I’m grateful that she’s my dog. Seriously, unless you’ve had a dog that you’ve truly loved, you wouldn’t understand.

Well, this morning started off like every morning. The annoying beep of the alarm intruding an interesting dream in which… well… now that I think about it, the dream made no sense… but I found it interesting. With a groan, I hauled my bulk from the bed like the Kraken rising from the sea. As normal, I started giving my pup some morning lovies with my sleepy eyes half closed in memory of the sleep from which I was so rudely awakened. Kissing her between her ear and the top of her head, I noticed something VERY wrong.

That, my friends, is a tick. A ginormous ugly disgusting gag-inducing tick. Needless to say, I was instantly awake… If I have one thing I fear, detest, and loathe more than anything (even more than spiders… and that’s saying something), it would be parasites. Ticks, fleas, lice, tapeworms, etc… parasites make me… oh dear god, I can’t even explain it. I just… *shudder* Yuck. Just… just yuck.

So I started my day kissing a tick. Faaaaannnn-tastic. After freaking out… no… that’s putting it mildly… I flipped the fuck out… Then I had to remove it… I’ll spare you the details because I feel like throwing up just retelling my traumatic experience.  Here’s the sonuvabitch post-removal, pre-vomit…

Yes. I threw up. Twice. Gross.

So, this was how my day started. Parasites. All day, I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

… and then my co-worker started talking about the ‘Miracle Of Childbirth’ *insert impressive sounding theme song here*…

…and I got nauseous…

The definition of a parasite (and goddamnit, I don’t feel like citing my source… Go to Google, type in ‘define:parasite’ and read it yourself if you’re that damn anal) is: ‘an animal or plant that lives in or on a host, it obtains nourishment from the host without benefiting or killing the host.’

How is pregnancy not parasitic? It most totally is. A thing… growing inside a female… feeding off of her… growing… depending on her… and then, after a while, it tears itself out of the host body with NO regard to the female’s comfort or well being… and lives outside the host, but is still parasitic – feeding off of her until it is able to chew… and that’s just the ways a baby is physically parasitic…. I haven’t even mentioned monetarily, mentally, emotionally or just… goddamnit babies scare me.

So… every time I hear a mother go on and on about how babies are so wonderful and such miracles, I scoff… They’ve clearly been brainwashed by the little parasites they’ve carried. How is a mother prancing their baby around any different than a person naming their tapeworm and showing strangers pictures of their ‘widdle sweetheart’?  Know what I say everytime someone asks me when I’m going to have a baby? “Pregnancy scares me. Ever seen Alien?”

Okay, I’m babbling. I’m tired… and grossed out.

The point is this: Parasites are gross. Babies are parasites. Therefore babies are gross.

And ticks…. Goddamnit ticks are nasty fuckers.

Jun. 30, 2009 - Vacation

I have returned from a super-mega-awesome vacation that included a Blue October concert road trip, a sleep-over, a huge ass tent, the best steak I've ever eaten in my life, sand in my asscrack, swordfighting a catfish, playing with a turtle, smores, lots of blood and guts, congestion, wearing my fresh kill's skin, sunburn, dirt and minnows all accompanied by the awesomeness of my best friend. On my vacation, I learned many things. I will share these with you now.

1. No matter how awake you are on the drive out to a concert, the return trip home you will be sleepy.
2. Fashionably late is not always a bad thing.
3. My dog is a gluttonous klepto.
4. I'm great at catching small fish.... and turtles.

5. Minnows die way too quickly... and they change color when they die too.

6. People who work in small shops in vacationland like to talk... and have a pathetic sense of humor.

7. SPF 80 does not work.

8. I pop inflatable things.

9. Catfish don't die.

10. Wire cutters are a camping necessity. So are quarters, apparently. And really really sharp knives.

11. Blood does NOT come out of your favorite sundress.

12. Geese will talk back to you if you are nerdy enough to talk to them first.

13. Do NOT back your car down the hill.

14. Camp store wood does not taste as good as Lou's dad's wood... woah, that sounds bad... um... rephrase: the wood they sell at the store does not taste as good as the wood Lou's dad gave us..... nope.. that sounds bad too.... The wood we took with us was better than the wood we purchased.... fuck it. That shit made our meat taste friggin awesome!

15. Packing a tent back into the bag is damn near impossible.

16. I apologize too much.

17. I have a paralyzing fear of latrines.

18. Third times a charm in perfecting the art of campfire potatoes.

19. Smores = dangerous.

20. I am allergic to outside.

21. My dreams constantly try to ruin my vacation - I spent the whole time dreaming about work.

22. My best friend is a better fisherman than I am.

23. I hate my job.

24. Towels do NOT provide traction when you are stuck in the dirt.

25. Small-mouth Bass have skin you can peel off.

26. Once submerged in seaweedy lake water, books are fairly useless.

27. That plant actually WAS poison ivy.

28. I am not photogenic.

29. I can still scream like a little girl.

30. Catfish are zombies. Seriously.

May 23, 2009 - Thoughts

Spending hours at the gym, sweating, aching, and racking up the mileage does something to me. When I leave the gym, despite the fact that I'm exhausted, stinky, sweaty and all red and splotchy, I feel invincible. I feel strong. I feel untouchable. I feel intriguing.

But most of all.....

I feel beautiful.

... and then I see my reflection... and all that fades.

But for those brief moments, I realize why I push myself so hard to do so much. I remember how it feels to feel alive.

May 13, 2009 - Gone

Alarm clock. Slap it. Check time. Groan.
Blankets over head, finger to the world.

And then it hits you.
Slap in the face.

Gone.

Sit up. Breathe in. Breathe Out. Cry.
Place head in your hands, place elbows on knees.


And let it hit you.
Punch to the gut.


Gone.



Get up. Left Foot. Right Foot. Stand.
Select clothes for day, then pull on your shoes.


Have to work through it.
Suffocating.


Gone.


Sit down. Lay down. Curl Up. Sob.
Blankets over head, finger to the world.


Call in sick to work.
This is MY grief.

May 15, 2009 - Run Jacq, Run

Run, Jacq, run.
Run in the rain, dodge the lightning, embrace the thunder.

(Lonely rooms, stacked with boxes. You left nothing for me to do. Nothing but read your journals. Read your journals and cry.)

Stumble. Fall. Get up, bitch.

(Jesus Christ, I'm tired. I don't want to run anymore. I want to drink. I want to drink a lot. I want to get stupid and do the Pee Wee Herman dance on the bar. No fat chicks allowed on the bar.)

See? Jacq, RUN! Run, Jacq. Run?

(At least I've got your blanket.)

In the words of the Dresden Dolls:

"I run as fast as I can,
but Jacq comes tumbling after...
i'm halfway home now
half hoping
for a showdown
cause i'm not big enough to house this crowd
it might destroy me
but i'd sacrifice my body
if it meant i'd get the Jacq part out"

(I miss you.)

May 19, 2009 - Lovers

They were standing in the middle of campus while I was having a smoke. The unbelievably cloudless blue sky stood back and watched the golden rays of the sun dance on the water in the pretentious man-made pond. The breeze, rustling through the infant trees, seemed to be on a mission to lift my skirt, to expose my favorite underwear to the world. And there they were - standing in the middle of the walkway, lacking care or concern for any students whose way they may be blocking.

They stood facing each other, the breeze whipping her hair around her face in a much kinder gentler way than it does to mine. He was smiling down at her. She was smiling up at him. He touched her face just like you used to touch mine. He laughed at something she said. She flirtatiously lowered her eyes. He brushed the hair away from her neck and leaned in to whisper something in her ear... the way you did when you first told me you loved me.

I listened for the snap, click of metal, the sharp slap, the cry of pain.

It never came.

And suddenly, I hated them.

May 5, 2009 - Dandelion

Cigarette ashes on the stove, constellations of black against the little-used white metal. Sky so blue it's almost white, tree blossoms breaking apart in the breeze. My thoughts as scattered as the petals of the shattered flowers, accumulating in corners, turning brown. Thoughts whirling, spinning, circling, almost tangibly, like a whirlpool of thick liquid going down a drain. What is it all for? To wake up every day and know exactly how your day is going to go. Who you will talk to, what you will say, how many fake laughs you will force through your throat to crack the rusty hinges of your lips. So, you feel like a dandelion in the manicured lawn of life... What makes you so fucking special?

May 7, 2009 - Gladiator Q-tips

When I was little, I used to watch American Gladiator religiously. When they came out with the new one recently, however, I wasn't interested in the slightest. Perhaps all that was necessary to enjoy it was a mind without the scars and callouses of life - a mind blissfully untainted by reality.


My favorite challenge for the contenders was when they had to stand on a platform on a pillar, and pummel and be pummeled by giant Q-tip looking things while clad in unitards (I friggin love that word). Obviously, the objective was to not fall off their pedestal while making their challenger plummet to the world below.

In my mind, I feel like a wimpy contender, lacking the muscles and brawn of normal challengers, standing shakily on a pedestal that is simply too small, my menacing Q-tip used only to aid my balance. Every once in a while, the American Gladiator I face will slam his fluffy Q-tip into my head in the form of an epiphany, a sudden truth, or, worst of all, a memory - memories so damn powerful my whole body reels, time slows down, I relive the moment... Up until now, I've been able to maintain my balance, but only by the grace of God. Though the audience cheers me on, secretly, they want to see me fall.

And fall I will. Of that, I'm certain.

K'ed!

Apr. 22, 2009 - Goodbye?

15 years. 15 years of failure. 15 years of mistakes. 15 years of wondering what could have been. 15 years lost. 15 years tainted by the presence of someone who will never be you.


I was startled tonight as I was driving home from a perfectly bland day at work... startled to find myself weeping. 80 miles per hour, weeping... a cry with no apparent catalyst. Upon allowing myself the release that comes with a good cry, however, I figured it out.

I never got to say goodbye.

The last time I saw you, yes, I said goodbye... I was off to see a movie with friends. I was hurried. I was excited. But I didn't say goodbye... the final goodbye. You were gone the next day. They brought me in to say goodbye after you were already gone.

All the shit about how a person will always be with you when they're gone... I believed you were... I believe you ARE... but SHE tried to squash you... And I fear I LET her squash you... just as I let her squash me... and Bro... and Dad. I never LET you live inside me... I couldn't. I didn't know how. And now, I want you here more than anything.

Listening to the lecture last night, the many people she never got a chance to say goodbye to... I didn't realize it then... apparently, I never consciously realized it... But it matters.



I miss you, damnit.

I miss hearing you play piano.

I miss rice pudding and oyster stew.

I miss Christmases that actually meant something.

I miss making cookies and candies - eating the rejects from the trash.

I miss singing show tunes with you.

I miss you sitting on my bed and helping me clean my room.

I miss the jungle.

I miss your hats.

I miss your laugh... Oh God do I miss your laugh.

I miss the way you smelled.

I miss sitting on the floor at your feet watching Star Trek and working on needlepoint.

I miss getting yelled at for setting fires, eating all the girlscout cookies and m&m's, spilling milk in the hide-a-bed.

I miss the arms that would hold me when I was sad.

I miss the hand that would cover my eyes at the scary parts of the movie, leaving my imagination to fill in the bad parts, often with worse consequences.

I miss going to the hospital with you, watching you get your blood drawn.

I miss wandering the halls of the school, waiting for you to finish your lesson plan.

I miss the snakes and gerbils and fish and salamanders and lizards and guniea pigs.

I miss the camping, the fishing, the nature hikes.

I miss bubbles.

I miss the leaf collections.

I miss celebrating Your Day - Valentine's day.

I miss you, Mom.

Like hell.

Apr. 27, 2009 - Obsession

One of my favorite movie villains of all time was also my first crush. I remember vividly how the sultry tone of his threats to the heroine made my little 4 year old tummy flutter. To this day, Jareth (David Bowie) from Labyrinth, really dilates my pupils.

Looking back, the 80's hair and makeup is a bit much, but... *wistful sigh* I'd still take him... How can one not fall in love with lines like these:

"I ask so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want."

"I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."

"Everything I've done, I've done for you. I move the stars for no one."

"Your eyes can be so cruel, just as I can be so cruel."

"Sarah, beware. I have been generous up 'til now. I can be cruel. (Sarah: Generous? What have you done that's generous?) Everything! Everything that you wanted I have done. You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down, and I have done it all for *you*! I am exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn't that generous?"

"How you turn my world, you precious thing."

Feb. 17, 2009 - Mwahaha

I love watching people I dislike cry.


It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside.

Like a caterpillar in my goopy bits....

Feb. 27, 2009 - Once upon a time...

I recognize the fact that I will never be what society labels as “beautiful,” but I’m actually totally cool with that. I am built to look like a tree stump… or a potato… or an alcoholic ex-linebacker. My opinion on that is this: It doesn’t matter.

I’m huge on metaphors…. And I’m a book. While my binding may be pretty bad, and my cover pretty boring, if you take the time to read the story, you’ll wanna take me home.

Because of the media today, there is a large majority of people who are not books… those people are magazines, pamphlets, comic books... there’s not much to them… Television and other various forms of media have taken away the idea of escaping with a book, and replaced it with easy to digest vapid magazines… “Why take the time to read that boring looking book when you can be fascinated by these pictures and these colors in this magazine?”…

The people who do take the time to read the book realize what those who don’t are missing… I’d rather be a book any day. And I’d rather be picked up by the type that enjoys reading them.

Mar. 18, 2009 - Pouch!!!

When I lose as much weight as I want to, I've decided that instead of having the extra skin removed through a boring ol' tummy tuck, I'm going to have the plastic surgeon make me a pouch.

Think about it....

I could put lots of things in a pouch. Like cheese and a yo-yo... and a pen, because you can never find a pen when you need one... and maybe a bottle of water, that way, I can always be hydrated.

Yes...

I want a pouch.

Apr. 9, 2009 - Despair

So what AM I feeling....?

My insides feel like a young girl, standing in a bitter cold rain, staring up at the sky, wondering why things are the way they are... wondering if this is all there is... feeling at the base of her soul the raw hope of something, but unsure what that something is... like a fisherman, adrift on a choppy see for months, straining his eyes for any sight, real or imagined, of a strip of land on the horizon... even if it is a rocky catastrophe bent on destroying his ship, and therefore him.... a sight of anything... bursting with hope while simultaneously bursting with despair.

Hmmm... despair... wow. I didn't realize that until I started writing this. Despair. For all intents and purposes, I should be right as rain... Nothing to be all conflicted about, really... But I am... Fighting the urge to go running off in the last direction anyone would look for me... fighting the urge to disappear for a few days, to put myself through some serious internal spring cleaning... But I'm still hopeful of something... hopeful and terrified...

Jan. 23, 2009 - Healthy eating, my ass!!

In meeting with my personal trainer last night, I was told (again) that I don’t eat enough. This makes me giggle. I’ve been keeping a food log and everything, so maybe I should listen to her… but when your goal is to un-fat yourself, isn’t it usually a good thing to consume fewer calories than you work off? Granted, I can see her point that a day filled with a mere 430 calories is not enough… But seriously… I look at my body every day in the mirror…. It’s eating too many calories that got me into this mess in the first place!

She lectures me about needing to eat more calories, and then lectures me for my late night Cheeto binges. I don’t WANT a healthy snack before bed. You can take those apples and shove them up your…. Wait…. I’d kinda like to see that…. On second thought, maybe we should discuss this “healthy food” thing again… You said something about bananas….?

Feb. 16, 2009 - Nursery Rhyme ala Jacq

If:


"Little Miss Muffett
Sat on her tuffet
Eating her curds and whey.
Along came a spider
Who sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffett away."


Then:

"Little Miss Jacque
Sat on her couch
Eating a bowl of sauerkraut and Frosted Mini Wheats.
Along came a spider
Who sat down beside her
So she beat the everlovin' shit out of it with her spoon until it was a pile of goo which she then steam cleaned from the cushions."

Dec. 29, 2008 - Epiphany

Ya know.... for years I struggled with this "Good God I'm ugly" feeling... I'd look around and see other people and feel like shit about myself because I just didn't see myself as attractive... at all. In fact, I felt yucky. Well, I've recently had an epiphany... I may be ugly... but know what? You probably aren't all that attractive either! So, who gives a shit?

And that, my friends, is my mood of the moment... got problems with it, ya ugly bastard??

Jan. 6, 2009 - Beauty

On the way home from the gym tonight, I saw something that made me stop and think.

I was stopping at a yellow light and saw an elderly couple on the corner. They were standing close, holding hands.

They started crossing the street right in front of my car.

The old man removed his hand from his wife's and placed it gently against her lower back, guiding her across the street.

As he passed in front of my car, he glanced at me. His eyes seemed to dance with happiness.

Here were two people that were so happy, just living inside the moment.

They got safely to the other side of the street and he turned to her. He put his hand gently on her cheek and kissed her.

Just softly on the lips.

And she kissed him back.

Sometimes people are beautiful.

Not in looks.

Not in what they say.

Just in what they are.

Jan. 7, 2009 - The Gym. Go to the Gym.

Every day it's the same thing.

The Gym. I tell myself. Go to the Gym

Some days, I don't go.

I don't go because my cowardice tramples me, even as I try to lift my spirit from its knees. It only keels over. It sways off to the side and hits the earth with a silent, beaten thud. It looks up at the stars. They're stars that dribble across the sky.

Days like that, the self doubt interferes. It sticks its fingers into everything and tears it open. It all comes apart, and I loathe myself for waiting this long to get into shape. I despise myself for taking the easy options night after night. A hatred is wound up and won't let go in me. It hacks at my spirit and brings it to its knees, next to me. It coughs and suffocates as my own hatred for myself becomes overwhelming.

Go, I tell myself.

Most days I do. I surrender completely.

I work slowly at first, and then harder and harder, feeling the self doubt trickle down my face and dampen my shirt.

When I'm done, I retreat to the locker room and stare into the mirror. My heart applauds inside my ears, first like a roaring crowd, then slows and slows until it's a solitary person, clapping with unbridled sarcasm.

Clap. Clap.


Clap.


Well done, Jacque.

You're still fat.

Nov. 21, 2008 - Spider Bites

Spider bites...

... are evil... specially the big nasty ones inflicted by poisonous eight-legged demons.

"Was it a brown recluse?" you ask...

Well, kiddo, I reacted so quickly, he was smushed into a fine spider-paste before I could ask for his resume...

Fucking evil bastards, thanks for the damn nightmares... jerks.

Dec. 1, 2008 - Dumpster Diving

Dumpsters are amazing... People throw things away and assume that they've seen the last of their trash when they throw things into a dumpster. At the same time, a lot of people get thrills out of dumpster diving... I don't particularly understand why anyone would want the brick orange recliner I tossed out that smelled kinda funky and had cat puke down the back of it, but apparently it was essential to someone's decor. (Wow, I just painted myself in a pretty crappy light by admitting to owning a stinky brick orange recliner that actually had cat puke on it... Oh well) So, apparently, my recliner was in such demand that some dumpster divers rescued it from the dump. In so doing, they knocked other garbage bags out of the receptacle. Some of these garbage bags fell open or were rummaged through... their guts left scattered like those of the squished rabbit in the street. I was digusted at humanity at seeing the garbage-carnage until I stumbled across the buttplug. For some reason, seeing a discarded buttplug lying beside the dumpster incited fits of giggles that I still can't get over.

Dec. 9, 2008 - Splosion!!!

And now, a free tip for all of you who actually listen to me...

NEVER put potato peels down the garbage disposal!!!

Trust me.

Unless you understand plumbing... cause, honestly, the 'sploding cascade of potato peel laced water was really kinda cool looking... like the devil vomiting through a straw.

Nov. 6, 2008 - Death by dog

I think my dog is trying to kill me.

Dogs are great. They have this "unconditional love" thing that they do sometimes that is just awesome. When you wake up in the morning, your breath is all funky, your hair looks like a bird's nest, and your underwear is firmly wedged in your ass crack, your dog doesn't care. In fact, depending on how badly Fido has to pee, you might even be greeted with emphatic kisses... Or, if your dog is like mine, your dog might attempt to softly rouse you from your slumber with their own patented gentle techniques.

One of her favorite methods of easing me from dreamland into consciousness is the "bladder stand" in which she decides that you should empathize with her need to urniate. After rising, she'll slowly stretch and stare at me. If that does not provoke a response that signifies that I am also awake, she'll stand with her front legs on my bladder and stretch her back legs, putting all of her weight on my abdomen. During this method of gentle rousing, she often stares into my face, waiting for my eyes to open. If I make the mistake of opening my eyes, she gets excited and hops. This is NOT a good way to wake up.


If, however, instead of opening my eyes, I roll over, thereby dislodging her from her prime position, she will do the "ear wash"... I cannot describe to you how unpleasant it is to wake up to warm wet ear moistness... especially when you include the snuffling sounds that make your ears tickle.

If the "ear wash" causes you to pull your pillow over your head in an attempt to quell the unpleasantness, she will then take her cue to stand on your head. Fifty pounds of canine on your cheek...

Some days, when she isn't feeling particularly sadistic, she will curl up with her face on the pillow right next to mine, her nose about a half inch from my own, and stare at me. When I open my eyes, she will greet me with a gigantic sneeze.


Needless to say, I don't often wake up in a good mood.

This morning, however, I was in a fairly good mood, perhaps because she hadn't started her "annoy Mom until she wakes up" ritual. In fact, when I got out of bed, she stayed put, watching me get dressed with an eye half open and partially rolled back into her head. When I was all dressed, I put my shoes on and looked at her. She jumped up and started her little growly talkative "rooo-roooo"... (She's part Husky so she talks...) She ran to where I keep her leash, waited patiently for me to attach it to her collar, and scampered to the door. If you've ever met my dog, you know what her scamper is like. She scampers. She also hops, dashes, saunters, meanders and lopes.

I live on the second floor of my apartment building, therefore there are stairs between where she sleeps and where she pees. Some days, she is patient and waits for my two legs to do what her four can do so much faster. Some days, she is not patient and attempts to pull me down the stairs faster. This morning, she tried to kill me. For some reason she decided to go back up the stairs after we had already started down them, and then changed her mind and went back down the stairs... on my other side... thus successfully twining the leash around my ankles... I don't recall much from the Physics class I took in high school, but I'm pretty sure that mass + inertia + momentum = pain.


I started walking down the stairs like this: I

I soon found myself like this: /

Until I was like this: __


I got to experience every stair, face first, up close and personal... bumping down each tread on my stomach until I reached the landing... on which I lay like this: @


I think the final insult was when she came over to my face and licked my cheek with an air of "Jeez Mom, What the hell!!"

Nov. 17, 2008 - Thoughts on my personal trainer

I swear, my personal trainer is trying to kill me...

"Great job, Jacque! Now I want you to do thirty more!!"

"Awesome! Now lets go run stairs! I want you to do as many times up and down in a minute as you can... Go!"

"Okay... Up four times, down three... that's good... Now... two minutes to catch your breath... and I want you to do 6 times up and 5 times down... Go!Go!Go!"

"Wow, you're sweating!

"Lets run in place, lifting your knees up to your chin... faster! faster! faster!!"

"Oooh, your favorite machine... the Nautilus calf thingy that keeps you from walking for three days! Lets start out at 40lbs, and do 4 reps of 20... Go!!"

"Now lets increase the weight by twenty, and I want another set of twenty-four. Go!"

"Breathe!"

"Don't give up on me! You can do this! Faster Faster Faster, push through the pain!!"

"No, no, no, don't LET those legs give out on you... push push push!! Harder harder, faster faster!! Go Go Go!!! Five more minutes!!

"Get up off that floor... stop turning blue!"

*poke* "Jacque?"


God, I think I'm in love with her!!

Sep. 29, 2008 - PSA regarding healthy food

So... with all this health food hype and all the "experts" stressing the importance of a balanced diet, I figured I would let you in on my little secret....

An example of a perfectly balanced meal is Country Fried Steak, Mashed Potatoes, and a shit ton of gravy... with corn on the cob and lots of salt and butter.

 
Not only does this meal taste spectacular which releases chemicals that do happy-dances on the receptors in your brain, it is a PERFECTLY BALANCED MEAL!!!

..."But Jacque, it's not healthy! That is the fastest way to a heart attack!!"

... I think NOT, my friend... and here's the scientific reason why:

While undeniably loaded in artery clogging fat, it is also loaded with blood-pressure boosting sodium! So, by consuming the large amount of sodium, the blood pressure is successfully increased to push the blood through the clogging arteries, thereby balancing out the potentially detrimental effects of the fat!



See!!! I'm a GENIUS!!!!

Oct. 2, 2008 - Confession

Everyone has their vices... the things that people derive imense pleasure from that can have a detrimental effect on their lives. For some, it's alcohol. For others, gambling. And for some of you, whoring. I have my own vices... the most obvious of which is smoking... however it's the closet vices - the ones you try so hard to cover up, that are really the ones that impact your life the most.

So, I admit it....

Hello, my name is Jacque and I am addicted to online shopping.

Forgive me, Gordmans, for I have sinned!! Internet access + debit card + boredom at work + secure network = Jacque's going to be eating ramen this week.

I'm not writing this as a complaint in any way. I'm not upset about my addiction... I'm just coming clean... I know when I have money to spend and when I don't. I know when I'm getting a really good deal and when I'm not.... so the $200 I just spent on clothes that don't fit me right now.... that's an investment in my future... so that when I actually do lose weight, I'll have uber cute clothes to fit into... and perhaps it's an incentive... I can't wear that hot corset until I lose some of the squish. And the red-plaid school girl skirt was way too secksy to pass up... Half off clearance prices?? I'm SO THERE!!

And that was just at Torrid.... After figuratively walking out of the online store back into the vastness of the Mall of the WORLD (screw Mall of America!), I found my way over to Amazon.... Oh Good Christ I love Amazon!! Amazon dot com is my personal Satan..... I know it's bad... I know it's evil... I know I'll end up regretting it.... but it's SO DAMN AWESOME!!! Where else can I pick up books like "Harry Potter und der Halbblutprinz" and cd's like the Weeds season one soundtrack? Where else can I order a propeller beanie, a pooping reindeer, a pig catapult, and a huge can of freeze dried strawberries?? Amazon has tickled so many fancies for me, I am running out of ticklish fancies.... I have ordered text books, fun books, joke books, reading books, naughty books... I have ordered classical, metal, imported, and musicals. I have ordered movies I wouldn't be caught dead in public renting or buying... However, considering my most recent venture into Amazon only cost $130, I'd say I'm doing good.... Especially considering I got 7 books and 5 cds....

When am I going to have time to read 7 books?

Amazon.... Torrid.... I love you.

Oct. 27, 2008 - Opus

I want things to happen to me.... but I'm too apathetic to pursue them.

In the mean time, I'll just keep singing along to the songs only I can hear in a voice only I'll recognize.


I want to let go of things... I want to have a week's worth of dreams unscarred by the faces of those I would rather forget.


I want to take the memories of certain events of the past that keep swimming through the muck and muddle in my brain, and release them to swim alone and unobtrusively in the vast rivers of the forgotten... however, I, myself, find myself swimming in those same rivers... blissfully yet regrettably forgotten.


I'm running out of places to hide from myself... the skeletons in my closet are taking up too much space, and they bitch when I smoke and utter under their breath glib comments about the frays at the bottom of my pants.


My view of myself differs so much from what I see in the mirror, as if the people in the mirror industry hired an awful Jacque impersonator for my own personal roast and the festivities occur every time a glimpse is sighted.

I imagine myself, lying on my back in a field of green grass and wild white daisies, a crisp white sundress, hair in a messy french braid, staring up into the sky, watching clouds float by in a gentle lazy breeze.


I imagine myself sitting on a dock as the sun sets across a lake, jeans rolled up, feet dangling in the water, watching the minnows nibbling at my toes and listening to the frogs' incessant 'brap brap brap' while cranes wade precariously in the shallows, scooping up their dinner.


I imagine myself dancing blissfully in the night to music only I can hear, moonbeams reflecting in my dark hair like stagelights, the stars applauding silently.


I imagine myself dangling by my knees from the thick branch of a tree, watching squirrels scamper by upside down.

I imagine myself intentionally lost in a forest, unhurriedly strolling between the trunks of ancient oaks and maples, gasping with delight at all of the many treasures hidden beneath the canopy.


I imagine a world that does not exist. I imagine a me that does not exist. And that makes me sad... and the sadness festers and grows into an imagination destroying worm, eating its way through the mealy portions of my brain and leaving a rotten goo behind.

The sky watching, sundress wearing figment of my imagination becomes a dying cow in a pasture, staring at the clouds and knowing that a last breath is coming soon.


The dock-sitting, foot dangling me becomes a big fat toad, watching the herons intently lest I become dinner.


The moonlit dancing figure swiftly morphs into a lost and forgotten half-deflated child's balloon, at the mercy of the wind.


The tree-dangling self can easily be mistaken for an abandoned kite carelessly flown too close to the far reaching branches, tattered and shredded.

Lost in the forest, my brain turns the reality into a grizzled unsuccessful hunter with a beer gut, a smoker's cough, and a target on his back.

I don't know why, when I'm staring into the sun, all I can see are the shadows of life... the potential dangers that lurk around every corner and under every rock... all I can hear are the malicious snickers and insults of unspoken voices... and the music in my head... but the music in my head is what makes it possible for me to erase the negative over and over again and repaint my imagination with the simple joys... until the brainworms eat away the optimism again and again.

Just keep staring into the sun... eventually, you'll go blind to the shadows in life... eventually, you'll just go blind.

Oct. 29, 2008 - Gyros!

A sudden irresistable craving for gyros = normal.

A sudden irresistable craving for gyros at 10:30 in the morning = a little unusual.

A sudden irresistable craving for gyros that starts at 10:30 in the morning and lasts for over a week = slightly uncanny.

A sudden irresistable craving for gyros that starts at 10:30 in the morning and lasts for over a week despite two attempts to sate it = very bizarre.

A sudden irresistable craving for gyros that starts at 10:30 in the morning that lasts for over a week despite two attempts to sate it and was brought on by a conversation containing the phrase "babiez iz delicious" = fucking frightening.

Sep. 12, 2008 - Naked headless babies with wings!

So, I got this wild hair up my ass to make chicken noodle soup tonight for dinner - from scratch. Nevermind the fact that I don't get home until 6:45 or so... I wanted homemade chicken noodle... damnit... and I get what I want... (that's why I'm fat!)

So I went to the store where I purchased carrots, celery, onion, chicken bullion, noodles.... get home.... no chicken. I'm freak-tastic-ly brilliant. However, I did happen to have two frozen solid rock cornish game hens... why I had two frigid whole birds in my freezer, I can't quite remember, but I did. So, I pulled out these 1 pound blocks of icy fowl, and set them to thaw under running water.... Once partially thawed, I gave up waiting, and peeled the plastic from them....

They looked like little headless naked babies with wings... slightly creepy if you think about the fact that i was about to submerge them both in boiling water....

*giggle*


So, I boil the little naked baby things... until, once again, I got tired of waiting... so I went over to look at them before pulling them from the bubbling water.....


The water was sending bubbles up through the neck cavity... so it looked like the little naked baby things were tooting away happily under water....

Having just written that, I feel it lacks the hilarity I took from it at the moment... and it becomes another thing that you would have had to have been there to appreciate....


But I'll leave you with this mental picture.....

Naked, headless babies with wings and extreme flatulence....

And ripping apart their half-cooked bodies was disturbingly satisfying... in a creepy sort of way.

Aug. 28, 2008 - Yes, I'm a girl...

Okay, I'm being a girl here... Don't get used to it.

I LOVE pedicures... Oh holy hell, I love pedicures! However, there is one teensy weensy problem with them...

When being pampered with a pedicure, you get to sit in a really cool shiatsu massaging pedicure chair... The chair manipulates your back in ways that will leave you drooling if the woman massaging your feet hasn't already turned you into a puddle of ooze.

The massaging chair is wonderful... however, I'm short... so while these little roller thingys think they're pummeling the stress from my neck, they're actually punching me mercilessly in the back of the head.

I still love pedicures.