Today's Bitching

I let strangers use my cell phone way too much because I am a doormat and obsessed with having bad karma. Anyway, tonight on the light rail this kid who can't be older than 12 asks if he can use my cell phone, and I figure he has to call his mom or something because it's 11 P.M. and what the hell is a kid that age doing on the train this late, anyway?

Ummm, no, this little fucker calls San Diego and northern Minnesota just to shoot the shit with his friends. I have free long distance, but I was still pissed off that somebody took advantage of my liberal white guilt. Also, there was a really cute guy on the train but I did not look very sexy because I was stuffing my face with cashews and getting crumbs all over my coat.

Oh, and at work MY LEAST FAVORITE CUSTOMER CAME IN AGAIN. His name is Ron and he thinks he can get discounts just for being Ron. "Can you make this an extra 30% off?" he will ask. "No," I will smile, and he will in all seriousness ask "Can someone else?" FUCK YOU RON. THIS IS AMERICA. WE DO NOT BARTER HERE.

Also, I spilled the box of safety pins while putting shirts away and pricked myself eight thousand times. Also, sexy sexy boys came in. I should delete that sentence because I am not thirteen anymore.

Happy New Year Kids.

Today At Work a Lady Called Me an Idiot

I was putting scarves away at the same time she was looking at scarves, and the convo went like this:

Me: "Are you finding stuff okay?"
Lady: "I was until you knocked a scarf into my face. IDIOT."

I mean, I've certainly been called worse; I honestly don't think I've been called an idiot since grade school. I mean, who says that?? And for fuck's sake, on Christmas Eve Eve of all days! I don't want to dwell on it but I hope she cooks a bad Christmas dinner and everyone in her family gets food poisoning.

Survey for y'all

1. Name:
2. Birthday:
3. Place of residence:
4. What makes you happy:
5. What are you listening to now/have listened to last:
6. Do you read my blog?:
7. If you do, what is particularly good/bad about it:
8. An interesting fact about you:
9. Are you in love/do you have a crush at the moment:
10. Favorite place to be:
11. Favorite lyric:
12. Best time of the year:


Recommend:

1. A film:
2. A book:
3. A band, a song and an album:


Plus:

1. One thing you like about me:
2. Two things you like about yourself:
3. Put this in your blog so I can tell you what I think of you.

In Which I Begin to Forgive Myself

OK, so I'm just going to ramble in here because I don't write enough in here and I think writing is good for you, except for yesterday on the light rail when I had a notebook with me and I was writing my thoughts and I ended up writing "MY LIFE IS A WASTE" in giant letters.

I've made a lot of stupid choices in my life and I have to learn to move on so that I can make good choices in the future, but I also have to fotgive myself for making such stupid choices. If I am to believe that I was depressed for two years (which I was), then that is to believe that I was mentally ill. And I'm not saying that as an excuse to end all excuses -- after all, I could not commit murder or a bank and be released on my own recognizance upon telling police that I'm depressed -- but I am saying that to pat myself on the back a little bit. I wasn't Jakey ***** when I was in New York. I had been depressed for nearly a year by the time I was there, and then upon arrival I was like, "OKAY, CITY OF 8 MILLION! OKAY, COMMUTER CAMPUS WHERE I KNOW ABSOLUTELY NO ONE! WELCOME ME WITH OPEN ARMS! FIX ME!"

It didn't work that way. See, when I was a freshman at Stout, I was scared shitless, too -- but I was also naive, confident, and I put myself out there. I won the ThinkFast Trivia Challenge. I was in a sexually charged, provocative play. I floated around, and while I gradually did find my own posse (Season One of The UW to my most loyal readers), I still made sure to find friends and acquaintances from various groups.

I know if that Jakey had been in Brooklyn College, he could have made it. He would have tried out for the acting program in April, and either enrolled in that major if he made it or found another one to embrace. He would have finally been able to study something he had great passion for, and he would have excelled. Again, I'm not saying this to justify the fact that I had a great opportunity and completely blew it, nor to excuse the fact that I completely wasted $16,000 of my mother's precious pre-recession money; but I'm saying this to let myself down easy. I wasn't there. I wasn't myself. I had been broken, almost sleeping, for a very long time.

Of course, this does nothing to change where I am now: 22, living with my parents, working a 40-hour-a-week retail job, all talk and no action. I am also a disgusting hairy beast and can't afford the laser removal, but that is neither here nor there. I am gradually learning that the only person who held me back all these years was myself (and I always knew that, deep down), but I can only achieve my goals if I forgive that person first.

Gymnasts!

seats because I rule at TicketMaster. I was going to go with my friend Erin but she rolled her ankle while crossing the street downtown (I still think it's karma for not voting in the election), so my mom and I went with my Grandma! I AM SOOOO COOL. Okay, who was there?


Today I went to the US Gymnastics Team Tour at the XCel Energy Center! We had floor

Shawn Johnson is absolutely adorable! I just want to put her in my pocket and feed her bread crumbs. We all loved her even though she is from Iowa.



NASTIA is really good but one of her routines was to that AWFULLL song "Butterfly Kisses", that really creepy one about the dad and his daughter and how he hates that she's growing up, and you can listen to it thinking it's a beautiful song about Christian family values, or you can be me and think that it's about a Joe Simpson who is obviously in love with his own daughter. Uggggh.



Shannon Miller is still doing the tours. She won a medal in Atlanta! I was at the Atlanta games but didn't see gymnastics because we didn't have that kind of money. Instead I saw softball and baseball, and my father is on some Australian blooper sports reel because a softball was pretty much in his lap but he had binoculars so he couldn't tell and it bounced off his crotch and some other bloke caught it. *Sigh*




Does anyone remember Blaine Wilson? He competed in '00 and '04 and during one of those years he did really bad and they kept cutting to his sister crying in the stands, and they weren't happy PhelpsMama tears but like upset, sibling, "Why are you sucking so bad??" tears. He was very good tonight, though, and if you Google him that boy has done more shirtless pictures than Marky Mark.



The Hamm Brothers were there! They both got injured which is why the US Men's team was all rookies. They did a routine to "Stronger" by Kanye West and it was really cool, but their voices still creep me out, and I sound like Sarah Palin when I talk.

Anyway, gymnastics isn't a "gay" sport. You don't have to be gay or a girl to enjoy it is a legitimate sporting event or, in this case, an exhibition of athletic talent. These people work insanely hard and have insanely bangin' bodies that will just make you depressed. My point is that my buying expensive tickets and getting great seats to this show have absolutely nothing to do with "cute boys" or whatever.

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/jakeyoftampa/horton44.jpg[/img]
[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v216/jakeyoftampa/jhorton2.jpg[/img]




By the way, I LOVE YOU JONATHAN HORTON! I was so mad when the guy from the Gophers team dissed your Oklahoma! I still cheered when you missed that one landing! I loved that you were the only male gymnast to get his own solo routine and I was cheering the loudest! I love that you're a year older than me and that way I don't have to feel like a total creeper! It was so weird this afternoon because you had your shirt off the entire time and I was sitting next to my grandmother! I know you don't swing my way and if you did you would probably end up with someone who looks like Justin Spring anyway, but next time you're in town we should, y'know, go to a Twins game or whatever it is that .... guys ... do! You were my favorite Olympic athlete to watch this summer not because of your adorable Texas drawl or your admittedly bangin body but because while you were all of rookies and dreamers, when the cameras let us in you were always the one cheering the most and the loudest and trying to keep everybody positive even when things weren't going so great, and I felt that it was you that most exemplified your team's spirit of having hope and belief and never giving up and I think I need a drink of water!

Your son is hopelessly gay"
She told my father

Before this was said
I found her delightful
The 43-year-old local
Who bought me a drink

My father
The father of the hopelessly gay son
Later informed me
That she had five kids by five different dudes
And said she was the C-word
And said he never used the C-word

My father is not a saint
He was not always nice to me
When I was nine years old
In love with a boy named Danny
And letting everybody know about it

Then I got depressed at 13
And his light bulb went off
And he realized that having an alive gay son
Was better than having a dead son

This is the same man
Who saw me in a Caryl Churchill show
Complete with monologue about anonymous blow jobs

This is the same man
Who literally bled putting up my loft freshman year
As I had no athletic skills to offer

This is the same man
Who signed all my tardy slips senior year
Telling me 'someday you will find someone who loves you for you'
Wrongfully assuming my laziness was about a boy
The thought still counts

This is the same man
Who will always fight for me

"She said your son is hopelessly gay"
he told me in the truck
I said I was sorry
He said not to worry
I now wonder what to feel

In the movie in my mind
I move beyond Jake's Sports Cafe
Alas
There is no such thing as a successful lazy person
Ironically
I learned that from Walgreen's World Magazine
Time will tell

The Great Minnesota Get-Together

Yesterday, Wifey and I went to the Minnesota State Fair, where you can get anything deep-fried and on a stick. Before that we stopped at my work to get my paycheck. They begged me to work a few hours. I aid no like a selfish asshole, then later bitched about my check being less than my last one. After going to the bank, we were on our way to the fair, despite the fact that I realized I had not brushed my teeth. GROSS! Thank God for listerine strips.

Erin wanted to go to the Education Building, where I felt like a dumb-ass since I am a two-time college dropout. Still, we enjoyed the plethora of free crap, such as a free Bill of Rights fan from the ACLU people, a free Joe Mauer poster from Minnesota Health Services, and a free pamphlet from the Jewish History people. Of course, Erin lost the bag later in the day, so there went my plans of talking to my Joe Mauer poster on rainy days, as well as Erin's plans of using the cutting board we won in another building for playing Porktionary.

Then we were off to the L'Oreal booth. They had a red carpet on the way in and I was sad that we didn't have a camera between us. I felt kind of ugly in there because we were in line waiting for the L'Oreal Gays, but then one of them gave me advice and free conditioner samples, and then I felt happy again. Yes, we lost the samples too. On the way out, a L'Oreal Girl complimented my 'Tough Guys Wear Pink" shirt. I LOVED THE L'OREAL BOOTH. I wanted to stay there forever.

We met up with college friends of Erin's and went on rides. I swore a lot. Overall, I was in kind of a lousy mood because I was way too boy-crazy yesterday, and while it is always in a G or PG-rated way, I am so close to being that creepy old guy, even though I totally used Nair today.

I am going downtown to a lounge tonight, first shift tomorrow be damned.

news and notes

I've been working for almost a month now at Walgreens in North Minneapolis. On the surface, I do not regret my decision; a job is a job, and some money is better than no money, blah blah blah. I only hate it when I'm not there, to be truthful. When I am there, I love my clientele, I love the customers, but when away I just can't help but feel that someone who scored well above the highest national average of his ACT's and ended up getting into a rather difficult university is now working at a Walgreen's in the hood. For that, I have only myself to blame, and therein lies a bunch of issues that I just don't want to go into, because in the end I am the one who has to take responsibility for how my life has ended up, and I think that's what sucks the most.

My current scheudule leaves me to party it up downtown about once a week. Of all the times I've gone out and been drunk this summer, I have fucked things up. Among these:

*Losing my iPod
*Getting poison ivy
*Drunkdialing and later drunk facebooking random boys from St. Thomas
*Walking through construction sites and ruining my shoes
*Losing a really cute shirt
*Getting stiffed on cab fare by alleged Operation Iraqi Freedom veterans
*Being overly affectionate with cherished friends, leading to potential awkwardness
*Drunkdialing people who I had previously cut out of my life because their presence proved more toxic than helpful, now having to roll their eyes when they call me back

There's a lesson here, I'm sure.

What I've Learned: July 2008

*When drunk at an afternoon pool party, do not get in a car just because there are cute boys in it. You will get dropped off somewhere in Northeast Minneapolis, you will get locked out of your friend's apartment building while trying to get help when she is passed out and can't get into her apartment, you will drunk-dial someone in the phone she has with her but that isn't hers, you WILL end up drunk Facebooking this person like a jackass, you will get poison ivy walking through fields trying to get back to your suburb, you will find out that someone stole your iPod and your booze, and you will realize how much YOU LOVE SUMMER.

*You do not grow if you spend your entire life in your comfort zone, which is why it's okay that instead of working at the Walgreens in Moundsview where you could ring up Abercrombie models all day, you took the job at the Walgreens in North Minneapolis where the only white people you see all day are usually lost.

*Every now and then movies do live up to the hype. (Dark Knight)

*It's okay to go see a movie you're not crazy about if it means you get to spend time with your brother. (Awwwww) The movie was Stepbrothers, and Mary Steenburgen looks great for her age, even though she is 55 and in the movie she is supposed to be the mother of a 39-year-old.

And So it Goes

A lot happened, and I could explain my thought processes, my debates of changing this from "New York Jakey" to my old one called "Jakey Stays Put", originally titled when my dream of attending school in Tampa, Florida was thwarted and I ended up attending school in Wisconsin, a whole 'nother canof worms. But, y'know what? I'm not going to write anything deep. I'm just going to say what is going on.

I moved back home last week. My mom and Aunt Jen drove me from Brooklyn to Minneapolis. I spent the entire time in the back seat, like an eight-year-old. It was representative of my life in many ways.



Over the 4th of July I returned to Stout to reunite with college friends. Like usual, I tried to not focus on "If I stayed" and just tried to be present, but we could have played a drinking game to "Had I stayed" and we all would have had alcohol poisoning. My brother drove me the 70 miles, which was very nice of him, and after spending the previous two and a half days in a car, I now feel that the Minneapolis-to-Menomonie trip is a piece of cake.

That Saturday, I had a tearful reunion with the original star of The UW, Betsy Ross!



For those of you who were not viewers of Season One of The UW, Betsy Ross and I were best friends when I was a freshman as a result of her dating my roommate, Whitey, for five seconds. Along with her roommate, Tina, the three of us were inseparable. But then Betsy got a boyfriend, and I needed a new posse, and while I still held her fondly in my heart, we didn't hang out as much anymore. We further drifted apart because Betsy does not use Facebook, MySpace, AIM, or text messaging, and maintaining our friendship required writing her notes on stationery. Nevertheless, she saw me and Jess walking around Menomonie on a "nature walk" (I called it this because we had left our cell phones at home), and she actually sent me a text message asking if I was in town! It was a delight to reunite with her.

That Saturday in the college town, a boy came to the house and he had a definite "boy bander" name. I managed to act like an adult when he was in our presence, but the minute he left I started hyperventilating like a sixth-grader at a Backstreet Boys concert in 1998. It was not my proudest moment. Then I added him on Facebook and he didn't add me back for FIVE WHOLE DAYS. I have now come up with the term "Facebook Anxiety", when you add someone and you await their pending request with great anguish.

The next afternoon, my friend Jess and I rode our bikes to the bar and I inexplicably brought along my toy wrestling belt.




Believe it or not, we weren't the only oddballs in the group, as other people at the bar were wearing wigs and oversize hats. One of them, a girl from North Dakota, came up to us to inform us that I was "pretty small to be the heavyweight champion."



In true Wisconsin fashion, I ordered a mug of Leinenkugel's (the only beer I like) and felt very manly, but then Jess and I ordered double drinks called "Pretty in Pink", which threw that whole feeling. We invited our good friend Mo Pang to come with us. She slept over that night and was sent home from her shift at Applebee's earllier in the day after she kept bringing food to the wrong table.




Menom was a blast, but all good things must come to an end, and I returned back to my melancholy existence in Minneapolis, preparing to job-hunt like a grown-up.

Returning to Minneapolis, I did end up getting a job. It is in North Minneapolis and is at Walgreens. No, it's not the most glamorous or lucrative, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Am I still depressed? Sure. Am I still sneaking vodka in Propel bottles in my room? Not every night. It may not be okay now, but I feel that sooner than later, it will be.

Good-bye

Good-bye New York

Good-bye 2 train
Good-bye loud iPods
Good-bye subway preachers
Good-bye subway beggars
Good-bye subway singers

Good-bye Brooklyn Bridge
Good-bye random languages
Good-bye sweaty tourists
Good-bye cranky people from outer boroughs

Good-bye Manhattan
Good-bye three dollar hot dogs
Good-bye fifty dollar nights at the club
Good-bye speed-walkers
Good-bye chihuahuas

Good-bye Flatbush
Good-bye P.S. 269
Good-bye energetic children
Good-bye Key Food
Good-bye Derby Liquors
You'll miss me the most

Good-bye Brooklyn College
Good-bye red tape
Good-bye confusion
Good-bye hypersomnia

Good-bye car alarms
Good-bye one-night stands
Good-bye parades
Good-bye police sirens

Good-bye victory
But good-bye defeat
In the end
It'll all be okay

What I've Learned

*Be present. Whether you are at [redacted] High School, partying it up in small-town Wisconsin, or ostensibly living your dream in New York City, it will not last. And you will miss it.

*You can blame your mother for all your unhappiness, but it's not gonna change anything.

But seriously, I'm still pissed.

*You can beat depression on your own, but it sucks. Be honest with yourself and others.

*While it is important to value the opinions of friends, family, and insensitive but well-meaning pop music superstars you meet on the way, in the end your opinion of yourself is most important.

*It's not a race.

When It Rains It Pours

*I had visitors for a week. It was about three days too long as the entire time they fought with each other. One walked too fast, one constantly berated my appearance. Le sigh.

*I spilled Mike's Hard Lemonade on my laptop. It is currently at the computer hospital, and I have no guarantees. I feel like a mother whose child is in a coma.

*I am moving back home in three weeks. If I survive a two-day road trip with my mother I will let you know.

*It's gonna be okay. I think. Life is a journey, and mine has just temporarily gone off the road.

The Present is a Present

I have been doing this thing lately while I try hard to be present, like Rhonda and Iyanla would say on Starting Over. I first really started doing this last month when I visited my former digs at Stout -- just trying to not do the "what if" and the "woulda coulda shoulda" but just recognizing where I am in that moment.

Now that there's a 90% chance that I will not be staying in New York, I am doing that here, too. For the past two days I have walked the Brooklyn Bridge. When the weather is beautiful in New York, I feel there is no excuse not to walk one of the bridges. Today I walked from Brooklyn into Manhattan and even took out my iPod, hearing all of the various foreign languages and rolling my eyes when a crabby lady yelled "BIKE LANE!" to people in her way. I am all about etiquette, but it's a crowded beautiful afternoon on a Saturday. People have to walk in the bike lane, lady, and half the bridge doesn't speak English and the other half is like me and could really give two shits.

I walked around the city today and took AWFUL pictures of random things, and can't wait to post them. I am not a good photographer and have never fancied myself one. I am all about the candids, people. A sailor on the bridge said hello to me and I was not mad. Fleet Week has turned me into even more of a 13-year-old girl than I usually am.

I rode the 2 train back home. I cannot describe the 2 train other than to say that God's people are on it. There's a feeling of community and humanity that I feel seeing all of the families on that train.

Viral Vendredi

THE EMMY WIN 20 YEARS IN THE MAKING



FROM THE 1999 DAYTIME EMMYS

New York

During the five seconds that I was a student at Brooklyn College, I had to write an essay comparing New York to something. I felt like sharing.

Jacob xxxxxx
English 2

Someday New York Will Notice Me
If life is an incredibly abstract version of high school, New York would be the most popular girl at the table in the center of the cafeteria, and we are all the needy wallflowers hoping that she‘ll notice us. Unfortunately, New York, being the social butterfly that she is, does not have enough time and patience for everybody, and it is up to ourselves to be acknowledged.
In New York, it is quite easy to feel like "just a number" (eight million to be exact). There are few places on the planet full of more activity. With the exception of Times Square, people walk as if they are being chased in a horror film. Subway stations are full of businessmen speed-walking in elegant suits and young women going clickety-clack in their heels while staring at their out-of-service cell phones. Streets are filled with more horns than an orchestra. For the pedestrians, crosswalk signs are coincidental.
On crowded sidewalks and subways in New York, people do not apologize after bumping into you or stepping on your shoe. They abstain from apologizing not necessarily out of rudeness, but because it is the result of the environment. They will likely step on at least two more people today. New York separates itself from other places because, being a city of destination, it is a goal-oriented city of doers and dreamers. When you are trotting idly on the sidewalk, you are literally in the way of someone's dream -- and if you dare to be here without one of your own, that's your fault.
While New York is glad you are in her presence and making an addition to what would be her entourage, she does not look out for you. This is not because she is callous, but because it is an impossible task. New York does not have the time to care if you are lonely or out of place. You are not the only lost pedestrian who got off the subway at the wrong time and ended up in Hell’s Kitchen en route to Times Square. You are not the only newcomer wondering why it is impossible to find a 12-pack of soda in lieu of two or three liter bottles -- nor are you the only newcomer who is still learning to call it “soda”, since your colloquialism of “pop” sounds more like a hard drug than a soft beverage. Most importantly, you are not the only dreamer who decided that New York would fix everything if you moved here to attain your financial and personal successes, but upon arrival realized you left your spine somewhere along the way.
But before the city is to be dismissed as one that ignores the plight of its citizens, I have noticed that it has its small moments of comfort. There has been the woman who called me “sweetheart” when I opened the door for her at Duane Reade. There has been the fellow nightclubber who apologized with a terse but sincere “Sorry, bro” after the only way to get through the place was to physically lift me a few inches off the ground and set me back into place. After a little more than 30 days in the city, I am already able to jokingly refer to places as “my home away from home”, such as the Laundromat down the road (they get mad when I turn on The People’s Court, but they’re nice enough and always help when my quarters get stuck), the pizza place that serves the finest I will ever have, and perhaps most fondly, there is the liquor store down the street, owned by a kind man of Asian descent whose ten-year-old son occasionally helps him out. Only in New York does a ten-year-old boy not only inform you of a declined debit card, he does it in a way that suggests this is nothing new for him.
New York is a place of natural congregation, from the foreign-born shop owner who dreams of prosperity to the Montana girl who dreams of stardom. Should one find the fortitude to go after such goals, this is the place to attain them. It is by no means easy to get noticed by New York, as she is impatient, busy and restless. But should we have the confidence to stand up for ourselves and attempt to catch her eye, we will find that she is also vibrant and giving -- and for those of us brave and bold enough to sit at New York’s table, she’s a friend indeed.

hey mama

This week in New York, my MOTHER visited! The entire weekend was quite miraculous as my apartment is now clean and I can actually see the carpet, and we only got in about four different fights, which for us is very good (yes, I have Mommy issues, but I can also admit they're stupid and not worth two segments on Dr. Phil).

On Friday we ventured into the city because I had a job interview. At the risk of being dramatic, this job is kind of my last hope -- I'm for sure leaving the penthouse on July 31st and 90% says Minneapolis while 10% says I miraculously get a decent job and an affordable apartment in that time frame. Yowza. They seemed to like me and said they would call me later to schedule a training session. I don't want to give away too many details because I'm worried about jinxing it, but I will say that it's a restaurant job with a hiring process so complicated you would think I am trying to become a member of the NYPD.

Saturday we saw In the Heights, recently nominated for 13 Tony awards. If you are in New York, see this show. If you are not in New York, buy the soundtrack. It is funny and inspirational and sad and it will make you wish you were fluent in Spanish. I really enjoyed it. My mother cried through the entire thing, much like the time we went to the Martina McBride concert at the Minnesota State Fair.

Sunday we did nothing because I was tuckered out and wanted to stay in bed, so my mother enjoyed my neighborhood's laundromat and grocery store and found it amusing when a Caribbean man called her "Mami". That night we watched the Desperate Housewives finale, which was certainly a WTF.

Monday we went to go see Ground Zero but kind of got lost, as it's in a section of Manhattan that neither one of us has been to before. "I saw where it was," she said. "That's all I really needed to know." We then took the 6 (like J Lo!) up one stop to Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall and walked from the bridge to Brooklyn, where we had great sandwiches at Celeste's Diner -- and on the bridge, we saw a bride and groom walk past us, in full-on wedding garb. One of those "only in New York" moments.

My mother left this morning, and I finally was on the phone with my best friend Erin! Erin and I are very much like Oprah and Gayle in that we talk on the phone all the damn time, and Erin has been studying abroad in France for the past five months. I made her a CD for her birthday but then forgot I didn't have any blank CD's in the house, so now I have to mail it to her. Then I had my first "training day" at the restaurant. I feel it went well, but they said they were trying out other people and if they want me back, they'll call me in a couple days. Getting a job in New York is worse than dating.

I also was sort of cheap last week and had a boy over (yes, I'm 21 but I still say "boys". Someday I will use "man" when I feel I am mature enough about it). I felt kind of bad about it, but then he re-organized my DVD shelf and I was like, "Oh, THAT'S why people do this." Maybe next month I will have another hook-up and get my light bulbs changed.

turtle power

back when i actually went to class
i had a wonderful professor named dr don

he said we are all different animals when we come to conflict
owl turtle fox teddy bear or shark

my brother is a shark (aggressive)
my mother is a fox (passive-aggressive, manipulative)
erin is a teddy bear (passive, gives in to everyting)
i am a turtle (passive, avoids everything)

i cannot be a turtle anymore

i have a month to figure out the next year of my life
that is scary
the writing is on the wall
but yet i have to keep hope
because otherwise i am back where i started in sophomore year of stout
when i wore the smile like make-up
yet was dashboard confessional by day

in other news
someone said it
i don't care who said it
someone still said it
and i wouldn't be so pissed off if i didn't think it was true



i wish you well
i wish you well
i wish you well
(mariah carey, e=mc2, no, it's not mimi but nothing ever could be, BUY IT)

sobriety feels odd
but i think i could get used to it

Today in New York

After a week of being sick and then two days of not getting out of bed (I sleep all the time because my REM cycles run like a high-speed ferris wheel ... I have about five dreams per night), I finally ventured to Manhattan today to get me a damn job! I also wanted to go get my haircut by the Sexy Bosnians, but I didn't get there in time, so now I have to go there tomorrow when my mother is in town!

I chose to take the N train into the city instead of the R train, because I realized I would be late for the barber shop anyway, and the N train goes above a bridge while the R doesn't. I think that's why people on the R always look so sad. They ride the Subway of Seasonal Depression.

I dropped off an application to be a host at a diner, and they made me take a test! WTF? "List five examples of good service." "List ten examples of good service." This is HARD, I thought to myself, but I think I did okay, except for Question #5, "What is in an egg cream?", which I simply answered with "Bananas".

Then I got home in time to watch Jeopardy! This week is Week Two of the College Championship, and I am waaaayyyy to into it this year, to the point of pure embarrassment. It's been a hoot on TelevisionWithoutPity.com because one of the finalists has been posting. Tomorrow she competes against a very annoying person who she assures us is actually nice in real life, and a boy from Mississippi State who I am way too embarrassed to have a crush on. WHO WATCHES GAME SHOWS AND GETS CRUSHES ON THE CONTESTANTS?? Like, really. Not to mention that while on the stalled 2 train I was already sounding like an 85-year-old, griping that I was going to miss Jeopardy.

My mother is visiting tomorrow, so I am either going to clean. Or drink.

Are You There, God? It's Me, Jakey

My grandma died in October. She had 13 grandchildren and seven great-grandchildren. I was the only one of them who was not at her funeral, because I was in New York wasting my life.

I didn't cry when she died. She had been suffering from a brain tumor for over a year, and my mother and aunt were functioning as her caregivers. Still, I always assumed I would see her again, and did not know that our July trip to her care center, where we had a barbecue and I was too lazy to climb over the table and hug her, would be the last time I would see her.

I sent an e-mail to be read aloud at her funeral, speaking of how she would always take Dane and me to movies we weren't allowed to see and would give us Pepsi whenever she wanted. Then I never thought about her. Consumed in my own drama, I put my thoughts about her away, knowing I would deal with them again someday.

It is Mother's Day. At 2 in the morning, I was on the toilet having my usual bout of Irritable Bowel Syndrome. It is perhaps wrong to have spiritual experiences on the toilet, but that is where I usually have them, because I am alone with my thoughts or listening to Delilah.

I folded my hands and talked to God. I started sobbing and I said I was sorry for doing this on the toilet, but hopefully He didn't care about stuff about that. I asked him to put Grandma on the line. I don't know what she was doing, but God went to go get her. I wonder what time zone she is in.

And I finally talked to her. I told her I was sorry that I wasn't at her funeral, that I didn't call enough, that I didn't get my driver's license and drive up to see her. She told me it was okay. She asked me how New York was. I told her I was sorry she could never go see it. I told her I was screwing everything up, and she told me that I could still do it, and she always knew she would see my name in lights. I said I was sorry for talking to her while I was on the toilet. I asked her if she ever plays Scrabble in heaven.

Then I knew I would be okay.

Viral Vendredi: Trish vs. Stephanie

In honor of her surprise appearance on Raw Monday night ...

Trish Stratus reflects on her legendary feud with Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley in 2001

Quick Thoughts

I have a lot of thoughts on a lot of things that I don't feel like writing entire entries about, because, really, who would read them? So I will just do a quick play-by-play of what I feel about the world right now. Yes, I stole this from today's episode of Oprah. Don't judge. Also, this is only my opinion, and my opinion is by no means more important than anybody else's. I am doing this out of boredom, and because I typed this while at the laundromat.

The Mariah Wedding:

I admit that I have blind love for Mariah. She could announce plans to do a sequel to Glitter and I would be on board, begging for the part of the hair stylist with a heart of gold. My admittedly odd opinion about Nick Cannon I can save for another rant. I will say that while I wish nothing but rainbows for Mariah, if she did not sign a pre-nup she has been sniffing too much M perfume.

American Idol

Davids finale, with Big David winning. Little David is talented as hell but does the same thing every week. I will take this all back if next week he covers Motley Crue or something.

Election '08

Seriously, if I hear one more person assume that people are only pro-Hilary because she is white and they are racist, or are only pro-Barack because he is black and young in the world of politics, I will blow a gasket. And I don't even really know what a gasket is, and how one blows it, so maybe I should be more cautious about word choice. I am all for a unified dream ticket, because otherwise McCain is going to win like Bush in '04 and we will be in Iraq until the sun explodes.

Barbara Walters

Is a living legend and can say whatever the hell she wants at this point.

Huge Pothole in Brooklyn

Did you hear about this?? There was a pothole in Bay Ridge so big that an SUV almost sank in it (but thankfully, only lost a tire). No wonder I take the subway.

These Dreams

I think the reason that I sleep so much is because my dreams are too vivid. Last night I was with my mother and Aunt Jennifer and we were in Menomonie but staying in this really cute motel, and my room was a single but it had two beds and its own bathroom and I decided that I wanted to LIVE THERE FOREVER. Forget my foolish pipe dreams. Then I ran over Channing Tatum and Ryan Phillippe's feet with a scooter. I don't get it, either.

if you are what you say you are

you are in charge of your own destiny
the only person that can change your life is yourself
if you hate the person you are being
STOP BEING THAT PERSON

wow
on paper this is so easy

ok so maybe this is the plan
work full-time for a year
land on my feet
then do what i wanna do

tomorrow is may 7th
already
may 7th

i am going to have to move in a month
i have nowhere to go
i am stuck
i am molasses
i am jan brady
i dont know why i said i am jan brady
but it was in my head

i am so angry right now
why did erin have to go to france
this is why i am going insane
because i do not have someone to talk to for three hours a day
i turned into someone i did not enjoy
if my life were for rent i would not want to buy it
i love that song
i wonder if it is on my itunes

bitch bitch bitch
i have been a broken record
since september
what the fuck
shut the fuck up
i am so sick of this
i am so over this
i should join a convent
i have no one
there is nothing
it is all me
i have to find the strength
no one can give me it
nobody can make things happen but me
we are responsible in the end

Reflections

Reflections Part One


Last week
After an 80-day countdown
I went back
To Menomonie Wisconsin

I was somebody again
People actually knew who I was
All of the boys looked like models
At Logjam I knew 80% of the bar
I felt alive

And I focused very hard
On being present
Not thinking about "what if"
Or "If only"

I would have left anyway

I had to remind myself
That despite all of the pictures
Of basement party after basement party
And me smiling with my posse
That I was not happy during Year Two

Did they ever know
That between February and April
When I knew I was leaving
But before Brooklyn happened

I went on Amazon.com
Bought three Dashboard Confessional CD's
Sat in the dark for three months
Listening to songs about girls and leaving

I do not know where I will be living
Two months from now
That kind of scares me

I cannot go back to STA
I look at the houses
Where my friends grew up
They have all moved on
Is my life just one big circle?

What if
If only
Blah blah blah

News & Notes

*Sometime soon, I would like to reflect on my visit to my old school last week. It was truly a blessing, and I worked very hard to be present during it, and not focus on the "What if?" factor. If anything, it cemented the fact that the reason I'm no longer there is because, had I chosen my life's Plan A, I still would have had the lingering doubt in the back of my head that I really wanted to be a writer and performer.

*So with that, the first step to be a successful writer and performer is to get a job doing none of those things, because writing and performing do not pay the bills in their amateur stages. Unfortunately, I cannot apply to any jobs in person right now because I am coughing like a tuberculosis victim. On this I blame either: a) four nights of drinking combined with my poor immune system), b) all of the walking I did in the rain on Monday coming back from the airport, or c) the horrible coughing children on the airplane. That said, I do already have an interview lined up! That's good. It's for a salon that won't open for two more months. That's bad.

*StinkyLulu poses an interesting question about "queer cinema" on one of his latest blogs. I recommend it if you have an opinion of the topic. Check out the link on the top right corner.

Viral Vendredi: David Cook

Words can't express.

e = mc squared

i bought E=MC2 today
because mariah is my life

american idol tonight
david cook rocked it
did an emo version of 'always be my baby'
he got my vote
so did brooke white
because i accidentally voted for her the first time

i visit stout a week from today
i am not drinking until then
because i have had my aha moment
when i say what kind of fucked up motley crue bullshit is this
it's so pointless

i'm just gonna take a break
from the boozing and the chat rooms and yeah
because i'm not crazy about who i turned into
that isn't me
i don't think

i am trying to write a book
i have started it over and over again
like everything else in my life
i duck out when things get hard

i tried benefiber last week
only made things worse
i think i will just surgically remove my stomach

laundry tomorrow
cuz i'm on my last pair of underwear

seven days
to be sober and productie
and clean the penthouse
i got this

observations

*I HATE MY LIFE. But I am the only one who can change it, not anybody else. I have to be the grown-up.

*I hate my life because I drink too much. I drink too much because I hate my life. This is what we call a vicious circle.

*I had visitors this weekend! Fun! But I am really sick of looking at fake purses.

*Stout in 8 days.

*Mariah's album drops today!

*I'm going on a blind date with a 32-year-old cop?

Life Lessons

Yeah, I think I liked it better when I was the one ignoring you ...

uh oh spaghettios

i cut my thumb open trying to open a can of spaghettios
i don't even want to eat them now
because i know that as good as spaghettios are
they will not be worth the pain

i spend more than i'm worth at duane reade and target
and STILL forgot to buy soap and fiber
the two things i was there for

blergh

in much more serious news
there was a tragedy at UW-Stout over the weekend
They are being laid to rest tomorrow
And the folks from Westboro Baptist Church are coming to protest

I want to believe
There is good in everyone
And humanity will always triumph
But things like that
Challenge such ideals

All we can do
Is educate our children
Be better people ourselves
Eventually good will win out
And I will learn how to use a can-opener

news & notes

I feel like I'm having male menopause. I'm all sweaty and stuff. In April. WTF Batman. I'm going to take a shower, even though I was supposed to clean the bathtub. Oh, well. I put the Scrubbing Bubbles in like two hours ago without sweeping it up. I don't fall down and break a hip.

I've sent so many resumes this week and ... nothing. Tomorrow I will apply to be a bank teller. The ad said the job is in Brooklyn. I hope it meant somewhere in Brooklyn that is easy to get to, and not somewhere like the Flatlands.

I saw Stop/Loss on Monday, in the fanciest movie theater I have ever been to. I wasn't even complaining about the ticket price, because the seat was like my butt was on vacation. That said, I sat on the aisle in case I would have to pee, and there weren't a lot of people in the theater, but every time someone would walk by my aisle as if to sit in there I would give them this death look, like bitch, there are 300 seats in here, you don't need to be sittin' in my aisle ... it worked.

As for the movie itself, I think it was good, and important, but I also realize there is no way I can be objective about it when Channing Tatum is in a full military uniform and brooding. But from a more critical perspective, I will say that Timothy Olyphant is such a chameleon that we can now christen him the male Cate Blanchett. I never go out of my way to see him in things, but when I do he always brings it: geeky film student (Scream 2), high-strung film director (First Wives Club), sardonic drug dealer (Go), bad-ass porn director (The Girl Next Door), good-hearted gay photographer (The Broken Hearts Club), unflinching high-ranking military official (Stop/Loss) ... the man is good, people.

I make my return to Stout in three weeks. I'm already getting nervous about it, with my worries ranging from superficial (what am I going to WEAR???) to deeper (will I have another identity crisis? Should I lie and tell people I am loving New York, or tell them the truth, that I am unemployed, lonely as hell and, barring getting a kick-ass job once I am free of Brooklyn College, that I will have to move back in with Mike and Loretta sooner than later?).

My brother moved out today. That is ... weird, and I'm going to have to write a whole nother entry out of it someday. For two years I got to be the successful one and he got to be the one seen as a bit of a slacker, and now, it's flip-flopped and my brother is self-made and financially supporting himself and I am SO proud of him, but I'm also, like, wow, this sucks, because all of a sudden in the past six months he decided to become a grown-up and good GOD, there is no way in hell I can move back to Minnesota.

Crashed on the floor when I moved in
This little bunk alone with some strange new friends
Stay up too late, and I'm too thin
We promise each other it's til the end
Now we're spinning empty bottles
It's the five of us
With pretty eyed boys girls die to trust
I can't resist the day
No, I can't resist the day

Jenny screams out and it's no pose
'Cause when she dances she goes and goes
Beer through the nose on an inside joke
I'm so excited, I haven't spoken
And she's so pretty, and she's so sure
Maybe I'm more clever than a girl like her
The summer's all in bloom
The summer is ending soon

It's alright and it's nice not to be so alone
But I hold on to your secrets in white houses

Maybe I'm a little bit over my head
I come undone at the things he said
And he's so funny in his bright red shirt
We were all in love and we all got hurt
I sneak into his car's black leather seat
The smell of gasoline in the summer heat
Boy, we're going way too fast
It's all too sweet to last

It's alright
And I put myself in his hands
But I hold on to your secrets in white houses
Love, or something ignites in my veins
And I pray it never fades in white houses

My first time, hard to explain
Rush of blood, oh, and a little bit of pain
On a cloudy day, it's more common than you think
He's my first mistake

Maybe you were all faster than me
We gave each other up so easily
These silly little wounds will never mend
I feel so far from where I've been
So I go, and I will not be back here again
I'm gone as the day is fading on white houses
I lie, put my injuries all in the dust
In my heart is the five of us
In white houses

And you, maybe you'll remember me
What I gave is yours to keep
In white houses
In white houses
In white houses

A Letter to Myself

Dear Jacob/Jake/Jakey,

...I know that you are sad about leaving Stout, especially when you look at recent pictures of your friends, or randomly Facebook-stalk and find that there are attractive freshmen that are being befriended by your former stalker, and I know that you wonder if said attractive freshman got the same creepy e-mail from the stalker that YOU got in September of 2005. Know that you are better than that. Know that it doesn’t matter if attractive freshman and stalker are doing it. It does not affect you. Remember that you accepted the stalker’s friend request too, and only cut him from your list when he drunk-IM’d you, said that you did a good job in the play and begged for you to come over. RESIST THE URGE TO SEND ATTRACTIVE FRESHMAN A MESSAGE VIA FACEBOOK, because attractive freshman will either relish the attention or find out on their own. Jesus, Jakey, stop thinking about the freshman. You live in New York now.

Speaking of New York, you might be leaving it after July. It will not be the end of the world if you do. That said, enjoy it now. Don’t take it for granted. Go to Times Square every day. Go to the Union Square Walgreens on Wednesday and demand a job. Be the best damned beauty advisor of New York City.

Let’s go back to Stout for a minute, without a random tangent about the stupid random freshman and your stupid stalker. Yes, you miss your friends. Yes, you miss the socializing. Yes, you miss the illusion that in your own strange way you were a celebrity. But think of your friends, and think of why they are there. They actually want to have jobs in the fields they are studying. You, on the other hand, knew from day one that you were going to transfer after two years, and you went to Stout not to get a degree but because you could not fathom living at home, because in your closed mind, it was ridiculous that someone who took three AP tests and was in Knowledge Bowl would tell people at his grad party that he was going to community college.

And okay, you kinda fucked up the New York thing. On your first day there you should have sucked up your pride, walked into Target and applied, instead of having countless interviews at posh and upscale Manhattan jobs that you were not qualified for. You should have reached out more, actually cultivated friendships at your school.

That said, you don’t regret it. Moving back home isn’t as bad now, but can you imagine how it would been, right now? Do you remember how sad you were, when you knew you were leaving Stout but before the Brooklyn thing happened? And can you imagine living at home now, with Diva having moved to San Diego and Erin studying abroad in France? As lonely as you were in New York, you at least got to be with yourself. You would not have grown had you been stuck at home. If it would have been you, Final Fantasy VII, and your bottled-up Mommy Issues leading to damaged housewares.

So whatever happens in July -- whether you get a full-time job and manage to hack it in NYC, move back home, or miraculously end up in California with Diva -- you’ll be okay. Your dreams will still happen, but you must work for them. Stop drinking so much.

God bless,

Your Conscience

The New About Me Section

things that have been said to me about myself:

"I think you have a lot of intelligence and talent." Dr. Entin, whose class I dropped

"I really think you should be an acting major, I think you have a lot of talent." Pam, my acting teacher. I tried out for the program but didn't go to the callback.

"Jakey, you're so outgoing we can never tell when you're drunk." A boy at Stout.
"Well, wait, we can tell when you fall off the furniture." A girl from Stout
Then I fell off the couch.

Yes, I lived in New York, but I was not there, in the same way I was not there in my second year at Stout. Someday, wherever I end up, I hope I will actually be there.

My Dinner With...

I was tagged by StinkyLulu to participate in a "My Dinner With..." meme, originally brought upon by Lazy Eye Theatre.

The meme requires your dinner guest to be from the film industry, which ruled out my first choice. Rosie O'Donnell may have the career I want, but I'm petty and annoyed that she invited annoying people on her cruise last week (I'll forgive Danny Noreiga because he's young, but ANT? Really?), and while I really do think Channing Tatum is a good actor (no, REALLY!), I don't think I could be in the same room with him without turning into some kind of goo.

But a few years ago, I began having recurring dreams about a particular movie star, and I don't mean THOSE kind of dreams. In the first one we were at Friday's with my brother, and in the other one I was on a talk show being asked about his recent break-up because I was apparently the Sandra Bernhard to his Madonna or the Leah Remini to his Jennifer Lopez (read: somewhat famous but not AS famous as the best friend). It was the spring of 2005, when I was a cashier at Walgreens and ringing up tabloids all day with him on the cover, and in my third-trimester senior year class of Mass Media -- a sluff class if there ever was one -- my friend Meaghan and I decided to do our final project on ...



1. Pick a single person, past or present, in the film industry who you'd like to have dinner with, and tell us why you chose this person.

So yes, there were the dreams that make me think I have a psychic connection with the man when really it just makes me sound like a raving lunatic (to be fair, I've also dreamed Angelina Jolie was dispensing advice while we were in a pool). But insanely good looks aside, I find William Bradley Pitt to be fascinating and inspirational. He dropped out of college in his final semester to pursue acting. His breakthrough role in Thelma & Louise made him a star, but also gave him a pretty-boy image he spent fifteen years trying to shake off. He's brought forth a new wave of celebrity, trying to turn the negatives of the TMZ-ification of the world into something positive.

2. Set the table for your dinner. What would you eat? Would it be in a home or at a restaurant? And what would you wear? Feel free to elaborate on the details.

It would most definitely be in a restaurant, since boiling water is a miracle for me. While my dreams would recommend Friday's, I picture a sickeningly pretentious Manhattan restaurant in a dinner party setting. For some reason they split up couples at fancy dinner parties to encourage socializing, so Brad and I would be on one end of the table while Angelina would be at the other end of the table discussing European culture with my best friend Erin McCloskey. My outfit would be 10% the cost of Mr. Pitt's but I'm sure it would look just as nice, because I have finally discovered designers that actually make button-downs in a size Small.

3. List five thoughtful questions you would ask this person during dinner.
-"Was there a catalyst or final straw that made you leave Missouri to be an actor, instead of choosing the life you would have had with your journalism major? How does one arrive at that decision?"
- "In your early career, most of your publicity centered around your looks. When did you feel validated or accepted in Hollywood as a serious actor?"
- "What has been the most overwhelming aspect of fatherhood?"
- "You told GQ Magazine'I embrace the messiness of life. I find it so beautiful, actually.' When did you discover this sentiment? How has it helped you?"
- "Meet Joe Black? Really?"

4. When all is said and done, select six bloggers to pass this Meme along to. Link back to Lazy Eye Theatre, so that people know the mastermind behind this Meme.

I don't even know if six people read this! I'll have better luck on LiveJournal.

Today in New York

Today I was going to have an interview at 30 Rock, write my paper, do laundry and go to English class. Instead I overslept way too late (typical), did not do laundry (typical, but found a way to pull off brown dress pants), wrote my paper, read 100 pages of No Country for Old Men, went to English class, and made an evening interview!

In English class, it turned out that the paper I bitched about for three hours and then wrote in about forty minutes is due on Thursday, and NOT today. Booooooo. Then we discussed No Country for Old Men and I get that Cormac McCarthy is a genius, but I wish the man would use quotation marks. After class ended I asked the professor a question on my paper, and then I had to listen to him argue with a kid in my class who I am going to call Douchenstein, because he is the kind of person who has to argue about EVERYTHING, and he's so smug about it and thinks he's really smart, but he's really just annoying as all hell. Then there's this clique of pretty girls who bitch about EVERYTHING.

Professor: "There's a quiz on Thursday."
Pretty Girls: "Oh my god!!! Really??? Can't you make it be on Tuesday??? I already have a midterm that day!!"
Professor: "It'll be, like, five questions."
Pretty Girls: "Whyyyy? That's so unfairrrrr."

I would judge them, except college and I are done after May, and that doesn't mean I'm graduating. People with glass academic dead ends can't throw stones, I guess.

Then I went to my job interview, which happened to take place at 30 Rock! I told myself it was at Studio 8H to be an intern on Saturday Night Live instead of really being in the shopping concourse. That's all fine and dandy, since I don't think I figured out how to get to the studio anyway. I took the elevator from the shopping rink to the concourse, not because I'm handicapped but because I could NOT find out how else to get there, then later found out you can get there ... from the subway. My interview went okay, but I'm not fully confident about it and will likely look up jobs again tomorrow. Is it a perfect, glamorous job? No. Is it one that may require me to leave my apartment at 5:45 in the morning some days? Yes. Am I also really fucking desperate? Yes and yes.




On the subway back, two blonde Abercrombie models were on the train with bags from Whole Foods, and I don't know how I prevented myself from blushing, but miraculously I did. Seriously. Abercrombie. Models. And this is New York, so there's always a chance that when boys look like Abercrombie models, they ARE Abercrombie models. Thank goodness they got off at the stop before my scheduled transfer and that I had to pee, because the sad truth is that had they been on the train all the way to Coney Island, I would have stayed on. I think I need new hobbies.

Then I went home and watched two episodes of Veronica Mars, A.K.A. the best show ever. In the history of television. And no, I did not watch it while I was on the air, because I don't believe in catching onto things while they're happening. I suppose I'm all about being retro, like in my senior year of high school when my favorite song was one that came out 13 years before I was born (You prob'ly think this song is about you).

Tomorrow: More laundry, possible job hunting, and continuing the countdown to my Stout reunion!

July 15th, 2008
My lease expires
I will be 22

I will have no idea where I am living

In a way it is just like last year
When I know I am leaving
But not where to
And anything I see is bittersweet
Because I will have realized
I took it for granted

Can I make it on my own
In New York City
As a grown-up
With my own full-time job
And my own walk-in closet as an apartment

My parents do not get it
"Move back home" says my mother
Who does not realize
That I don't have a driver's license
Because she won

"Go back to Stout" says my father
Who does not realize
That I was there only for the partying
If I got a degree there
I would not use it

"School is so important" says Grandma Shirley
Who does not realize
That I can afford school
But not the cost of living
Without a job

"You are too old" says the voice in my head
"Why did you ever think
You could be an actor
That is such a pipe dream
Get over it
Let it go"

"Everybody I know wants to be famous" says Famousphere Boy
"Even you"
Ouch
Why do I take his calls
Could it be because I know literally five people in my current city
Probably

46 days
I return to Stout for a visit
I haven't bought the ticket yet
'Cause I thought I'd have a job

"How is New York?" they will all ask
I will have to put my smile on again
"It is great
I am loving it
I have a lot of friends
I am living the dream"
Blah blah blah

I look at their pictures
They are all so happy
As they should be
But I can't help but be sad
When I see that they are thriving
Without me

They made new friends
Boys that are cuter and taller and straight
One of them has the same name as me
At least he goes by Jacob/Jake

Life does not come with an Undo button
Or a game over retry

Happenings

What Was Going to Happen

I was going to greatly enjoy school. I was going to become friends or at least acquaintances with the other people living in my house. I was going to very quickly find a job in Manhattan at a restaurant or a store, one I liked and that wasn't too snobby, but posh enough that I would feel like somebody when I worked there before going back home on the train to Brooklyn every night.

I would find people to go to the parties and clubs with. I would have a posse just like I did in Wisconsin. Just like with The UW, we would find a thread to connect us all, as we all would share our hopes and dreams.

I was going to pay my own rent, by myself and with a few extra hundred every month. My parents would be proud and confident.

I was going to do well at the open mikes, not become famous in a year or anything, but start to build myself up, so that by the time I left college I already had a foundation to start a career in the entertainment industry.

I was going to be happy.

What Happened

"So where are you living?! Do you get along with your neighbors?!"
"Yes, it's great."

My computer was delayed a month. The people living in my house didn't move in until I had been by myself for three weeks. When they did move in, they kept to themselves. Only one of them do I actually recognize and can call by name. Her name is Laura and she is very nice, and I can tell from her mail that she is from California. Nevertheless, I was very alone.

"Where are you working these days?! Do you like it?!"
"It's great."

I went on one job interview after another. Restaurants. Corporate malls. Even did a urine test for Federated, Inc. Sent one resume after another. It took three months for me to get a job, and when I did it did not pay enough to cover my rent. Although hired for a 90-day period, I was laid off two months later.

"How's school going?!"
"Fine."

I did well in school, for about a week. Then I began oversleeping. A lot. I changed my mind daily on if I would stay in school or not. Whenever I had made a decision, albeit to stay or to drop out, I would be happy with it, but also sad knowing either outcome would make me remain questioning.

I was adamant that I was going to be done, that I couldn't do it anymore. Grandma Shirley even told me, "Think of what your goal is, and do what you have to do get there." Realizing her disappointment was the one I feared most, I felt solace knowing that even she wouldn't be completely upset as long as I was still doing something. In four of my five classes, and later two of my three classes after I had to cut six credits in order to save my GPA, I felt perfectly fine about my decision to drop out after the first semester. But then I would go to my acting class, where I would feel alive, I felt like I was in the right crowd of people even though none of them were acting majors, either, and the thought of me leaving school made me sad. So in November, something hit me, and I decided that I wanted to stay. I talked to my transfer advisor and we worked out a plan. I was going to be okay.

My mother visited that weekend. "I feel like you're just playing house," she told me. "But I decided I want to stay in school now," I said. "Are you sure you're staying for the right reasons?" she asked. Then I wasn't sure anymore.

"Did you go home for Christmas?! How'd it go? How was Loretta?!"
"Good."

I went home for a week. I went to parties with my brother and put my smile on, told them all I was doing well in New York. I got the flu. Only one person came to my casino party. My mother said roughly three words to me the entire time, then bawled her eyes out when we were at the airport and it was time for me to leave.

"How's school going this semester?! Do you like your classes?!"

I came back and the lock to my apartment was jammed, so I had to kick it in like MacGyver. Things went to shit again. I got laid off. My school cancelled my registration twice, and I had to swim through red tape in order to get my loans taken care of. I was doubtful again. I did even worse attendance-wise this semester than I did in the first. I applied to try out for the acting program at the last possible minute. I realized this meant I would graduate two years behind. A little more than 72 hours from my audition, I don't have my monologues memorized. I don't even know where I'm supposed to go for it.

"How much is your rent?! How are you paying for it?!"

I had a job interview on February 1st. It was for a dream job. I could not believe how badly I wanted to work at this place, and was amazed that I even got an interview. They liked me, too, but the job was 40 hours a week and unflexible, and I could not do it because of school, SCHOOL, this necessary evil that I didn't even know if I wanted, that I didn't even know if I could do anymore.

"How are your grades?! You're doing well, right?!"

My attendance worsened. I slept all the time until I took herbal supplements as a last resort. They work, but they also give me headaches and my time clock is completely upside down. My rock bottom moment was on February 13th, when I overslept for an interview that was at noon. Subconsciously, I did not want the job as it paid in schillings and only once a month, but it still would have been something. I had an interview today that I missed because I got lost, lost in what is now my sixth month of living in New York. Le sigh.

"I hear you're doing stand-up comedy now!! Fun!!"

My first stand-up comedy performance was on October 9th, 2007. It was at a little pub in Chelsea and I did not do wonderful but I did not bomb either. I went there for several weeks in a row, proud of myself for thinking up of new material every time. On December 3rd I went away from that club and performed at another venue, a busy bar on the Lower East Side at a $5 Open Mike. I was nervous as hell because instead of the supportive comedians that I had now familiarized myself with, the audience was composed of thirty strangers, men ranging in age from 25 to 60 and all very "man's man" and I did not know if they would laugh at the little gay boy from Brooklyn, but I went up there and did seven minutes and I shit you not, I SLAYED THEM. And yet I never went back to that bar, because I still listened to the negative voice, the one that told me I would never get a tape or DVD made, the one that told me I would always be at the bottom rung of the ladder, the one that told me I was nothing.

"Wow, I can't believe you're living in NEW YORK! That must be so exciting! You must be having a BLAST! I can't wait to come visit you! I'm sure we'd have so much fun, you could introduce to me all your friends ... Wow. That's so cool you're out there. You must be really happy."

News & Notes

*I ate Popeye's Chicken for the first and last time today.

*I audition for a BFA in Acting program in nine days and I have no fucking idea what I'm going to do for a monologue.

*Speaking of school, my sleeping disorder kicked my ass this week, so now I have to kowtow to all these professors, and be like ten minutes early for every single class for the rest of the year.

*Speaking of sleeping disorder, I have since turned to the expensive world of herbal supplements and will hope for the best. I hope this doesn't mean every time I eat McDonald's I'm going to spend a week in the bathroom.

*I am going to be responsible with the new credit card. I think.

Happy Love Day, Everyone

Happy Valentine's Day, from me and my new boyfriend, Dr. Jon Fielding.*

*Who is a fictional character created by Armistead Maupin, and yes I read all three of my Tales of the City novels this week. Leave me alone.

Today in New York

I felt unusually productive today! I've been talking a lot with my friend Diva the past few days because she is moving to San Diego, and she explained to me that it has to do with the Lunar New Year, and how you act and live during the first few days of the Lunar New Year can impact the rest of your year. Okay then.

I went to campus to apply for a job and I already have an interview lined up. That's good. The job is 4-16 hours a week and pays chump change. That's ... less good. Hopefully it'll be a good recurring thing I can do and they'll schedule me well in advance so that I can work a second job with little to no hassle.

I also found my balls and finally went to the theater department office to get a written application, which I have to get done this weekend. I'm at a crossroads, however, because I've realized that it will likely take me three more years to get the degree. That will mean I have spent seven years going for a bachelor's. Is that not ridiculous? Not to mention my hang-up about my age. I don't know ... it's something I am going to have to decide for myself, because Erin is in France and Loretta is in Vegas.

I e-mailed a sleep clinic last night and they called me back today, but now I'm debating if I should call them back. Should I see how this week goes and if I screw up again, THEN call them? What if they don't take insurance? I'm very good at second-guessing everything ...

I took the subway to Chelsea to get my hair cut. I missed the D train by .25 seconds, so I had to hop on the slow R train which stops every five feet. A nice young European man asked me how many stops to City Hall, and when I explained what college I went to, he was very impressed and said it was a very difficult school. See, why didn't I know that during my first semester? I came from Minnesota, and I didn't really have the perspective about the what's what of the CUNY system. Anyway, I was still quite cold to him and I wonder why. I am not the beacon of warm energy that I once was.

Then I got my hair cut after taking forever to find a Bank of America ATM. The barbers at the place I go to are Eastern European, and the man who did my hair is very rough -- grabs your shoulders to put you back, palms your head a lot, and I think it's probably a good thing that he works in a gay neighborhood, because then immature people like me are like "Ooooh, I think I went to first!" whereas if he was working in Brooklyn he would be gettin a lot attitude and "Watch the hair!"

I took the C train for a bit, and an old man hobbled in with a cane and damn near got squished in the door. Then he sat down and kept having outbursts like "OH!" and "OUCH!" and I couldn'nt help but be callous and wonder who lets these people on the train by themselves. Then I got on my 2 train and an OLD MAN PISSED HIS PANTS. I hate the subway, I thought to myself, and then I was in front of a 4-year-old child who didn't know how to chew with his mouth closed. No wonder rich people feel so above mass transit.

Go Back to the Brady Bunch

I got told to "Go back to the Brady Bunch!" today. It was by a ten-year-old boy, in a group of children making fun of me for my broken umbrella.

"Excuse me, mister," a little girl said. "Your umbrella is upside down."
"It's not upside down," I explained. "It's broken."

Then I got told to go back to the Brady Bunch, and then I threw my umbrella in the trash when I got up to the corner.

Was I more upset about this than the day before, when the twentysomething on his stoop said "That's a fag right there"? I don't know. Children are different.

***

I did not go into the theater department today, but I e-mailed the lady. That counts for something. I think.

Loretta is going to Las Vegas today. We talked and finally smoothed some things over. It will never be perfect, but it doesn't always have to be craptastic, either.

Labels are for soup cans

The world would be so much better if everyone just listened to me.

News & Notes

*I am skipping class already. ALREADY. It hasn't been a week yet. What is wrong with me? Why can't I ever get out of bed? Why have I been like this since I was 14? I am going to have to start sleeping with a No-Doz and an energy drink on the nightstand, and while I realize that's the definition of chemical dependency, you gotta do what you do.

*I CAN'T TAKE THE FUCKING DRAMA ANYMORE. That was cryptic and I know that all caps are obnoxious, but I still had to say it.

*Do I go into the theater department tomorrow? Is that when I find the balls that I figuratively left in Minneapolis?

*I am torn about the Super Bowl result. I know, ME CARING ABOUT FOOTBALL! Who knew?

*I am wearing white pants today. Suck it.

*The picture above was taken at the Jezebel.com meet and greet on Friday, and if you forget about my foolish decision to go uptown to the boy bar and spend all the money I don't have, it was a wonderful night. I even met someone from Northeast Minneapolis, proof that the world is much smaller than we realize.

Lexington Avenue Blues

I really wanted that job.

Perhaps I wouldn't have been so devastated about my schedule not being compatible with it if I had an iota of passion for college -- but I don't. I have to admit that I came here for the wrong reasons, and school was a smoke screen. I left Minneapolis because I was trapped. Then I got to New York, and felt trapped again, and I couldn't help but feel that way as I stood on Lexington Avenue in the rain, staring at this building and down at my blazer making its Manhattan debut.

I went back to the school to try to buy books, or at least see how much they cost. Again dejected, I went to the Theater Department, to sign up for an audition, but chickened out, telling myself I would send an e-mail or try again on Monday. I don't know what my deal is. I figuratively left my balls in Minnesota.

Still, Friday wasn't all bad, as I did some social networking and met up with some commenters from Jezebel.Com at a bar over on the Lower East Side! It was a lot of fun and I now have a business card of a book publicist, to go along with one I have of a literary agent, and when I get drunk I can look at them and pretend that they are my agent and publicist.

However, I drank too much there and then went to the boy bar, where I spent way too much money. At least when you overspend at the casino there's a chance you might get some of it back.

The job hunt will continue next week. Maybe I will try the acting thing. I should do open mikes again. I don't know what my deal is. I think we all have different voices in our heads, not ones that are audible but ones that we know are not real, but they affect us just the same. I have to listen to my positive voice, the one that tells me I can do it, the one that tells me to believe in myself, the one that tells me that I live in New York City, dammit, the one that tells me that I can look back at these years with pride and not shame. I do not know where that voice went, but it was overshadowed by the negative one, the one that shuns hope and positivity.

I really want to delete that last paragraph because it makes me sound like a Starting Over reject, but whatever.

le sigh

Dear Jacob,

Let me start by saying, "Thank you." You have stood with Elizabeth and me throughout this campaign. Your support has sustained us as we have traveled across this country.

Earlier today, I suspended my campaign for the Democratic nomination for the presidency. I made this announcement from where our journey began just over 12 months ago: New Orleans.

I began my presidential campaign in New Orleans to remind the country that all of us -- as citizens and as a government -- have a moral responsibility to each other, and what we do together matters.

Now, it's time for me to step aside so that history can blaze its path. We do not know who will take the final steps to the White House -- but what we do know is that our Democratic Party will make history.

And, along the way, all of you who have been involved in this campaign and this movement for change and this cause, I am asking you to continue speaking out for those who have no voice, just as Elizabeth and I will continue to do. We need you.

Do not turn away from the great struggles before us. Do not give up on the causes that we have fought for. Do not walk away from what's possible, because it's time for all of us -- all of us together -- to make the two Americas one. We need you.

I hope you will take a few moments to listen to the video clip of my speech in New Orleans earlier this afternoon or to read it below.

In the meantime, Elizabeth and my family join me in thanking all of you for your support and for working so hard on my behalf. We are truly blessed to have such friends.

Thank you.

John Edwards
January 30, 2008

---

Thank you all very much. We're very proud to be back here.

During the spring of 2006, I had the extraordinary experience of bringing 700 college kids here to New Orleans to work. These are kids who gave up their spring break to come to New Orleans to work, to rehabilitate houses, because of their commitment as Americans, because they believed in what was possible, and because they cared about their country.

I began my presidential campaign here to remind the country that we, as citizens and as a government, have a moral responsibility to each other, and what we do together matters. We must do better, if we want to live up to the great promise of this country that we all love so much.

It is appropriate that I come here today. It's time for me to step aside so that history can blaze its path. We do not know who will take the final steps to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, but what we do know is that our Democratic Party will make history. We will be strong, we will be unified, and with our convictions and a little backbone we will take back the White House in November and we'll create hope and opportunity for this country.

This journey of ours began right here in New Orleans. It was a December morning in the Lower Ninth Ward when people went to work, not just me, but lots of others went to work with shovels and hammers to help restore a house that had been destroyed by the storm.

We joined together in a city that had been abandoned by our government and had been forgotten, but not by us. We knew that they still mourned the dead, that they were still stunned by the destruction, and that they wondered when all those cement steps in all those vacant lots would once again lead to a door, to a home, and to a dream.

We came here to the Lower Ninth Ward to rebuild. And we're going to rebuild today and work today, and we will continue to come back. We will never forget the heartache and we'll always be here to bring them hope, so that someday, one day, the trumpets will sound in Musicians' Village, where we are today, play loud across Lake Ponchartrain, so that working people can come marching in and those steps once again can lead to a family living out the dream in America.

We sat with poultry workers in Mississippi, janitors in Florida, nurses in California.

We listened as child after child told us about their worry about whether we would preserve the planet.

We listened to worker after worker say "the economy is tearing my family apart."

We walked the streets of Cleveland, where house after house was in foreclosure.

And we said, "We're better than this. And economic justice in America is our cause."

And we spent a day, a summer day, in Wise, Virginia, with a man named James Lowe, who told us the story of having been born with a cleft palate. He had no health care coverage. His family couldn't afford to fix it. And finally some good Samaritan came along and paid for his cleft palate to be fixed, which allowed him to speak for the first time. But they did it when he was 50 years old. His amazing story, though, gave this campaign voice: universal health care for every man, woman and child in America. That is our cause.

And we do this -- we do this for each other in America. We don't turn away from a neighbor in their time of need. Because every one of us knows that what -- but for the grace of God, there goes us. The American people have never stopped doing this, even when their government walked away, and walked away it has from hardworking people, and, yes, from the poor, those who live in poverty in this country.

For decades, we stopped focusing on those struggles. They didn't register in political polls, they didn't get us votes and so we stopped talking about it. I don't know how it started. I don't know when our party began to turn away from the cause of working people, from the fathers who were working three jobs literally just to pay the rent, mothers sending their kids to bed wrapped up in their clothes and in coats because they couldn't afford to pay for heat.

We know that our brothers and sisters have been bullied into believing that they can't organize and can't put a union in the workplace. Well, in this campaign, we didn't turn our heads. We looked them square in the eye and we said, "We see you, we hear you, and we are with you. And we will never forget you." And I have a feeling that if the leaders of our great Democratic Party continue to hear the voices of working people, a proud progressive will occupy the White House.

Now, I've spoken to both Senator Clinton and Senator Obama. They have both pledged to me and more importantly through me to America, that they will make ending poverty central to their campaign for the presidency.

And more importantly, they have pledged to me that as President of the United States they will make ending poverty and economic inequality central to their Presidency. This is the cause of my life and I now have their commitment to engage in this cause.

And I want to say to everyone here, on the way here today, we passed under a bridge that carried the interstate where 100 to 200 homeless Americans sleep every night. And we stopped, we got out, we went in and spoke to them.

There was a minister there who comes every morning and feeds the homeless out of her own pocket. She said she has no money left in her bank account, she struggles to be able to do it, but she knows it's the moral, just and right thing to do. And I spoke to some of the people who were there and as I was leaving, one woman said to me, "You won't forget us, will you? Promise me you won't forget us." Well, I say to her and I say to all of those who are struggling in this country, we will never forget you. We will fight for you. We will stand up for you.

But I want to say this -- I want to say this because it's important. With all of the injustice that we've seen, I can say this, America's hour of transformation is upon us. It may be hard to believe when we have bullets flying in Baghdad and it may be hard to believe when it costs $58 to fill your car up with gas. It may be hard to believe when your school doesn't have the right books for your kids. It's hard to speak out for change when you feel like your voice is not being heard.

But I do hear it. We hear it. This Democratic Party hears you. We hear you, once again. And we will lift you up with our dream of what's possible.

One America, one America that works for everybody.

One America where struggling towns and factories come back to life because we finally transformed our economy by ending our dependence on oil.

One America where the men who work the late shift and the women who get up at dawn to drive a two-hour commute and the young person who closes the store to save for college. They will be honored for that work. One America where no child will go to bed hungry because we will finally end the moral shame of 37 million people living in poverty.

One America where every single man, woman and child in this country has health care.

One America with one public school system that works for all of our children.

One America that finally brings this war in Iraq to an end. And brings our service members home with the hero's welcome that they have earned and that they deserve.

Today, I am suspending my campaign for the Democratic nomination for the Presidency.

But I want to say this to everyone: with Elizabeth, with my family, with my friends, with all of you and all of your support, this son of a millworker's gonna be just fine. Our job now is to make certain that America will be fine.

And I want to thank everyone who has worked so hard – all those who have volunteered, my dedicated campaign staff who have worked absolutely tirelessly in this campaign.

And I want to say a personal word to those I've seen literally in the last few days – those I saw in Oklahoma yesterday, in Missouri, last night in Minnesota – who came to me and said don't forget us. Speak for us. We need your voice. I want you to know that you almost changed my mind, because I hear your voice, I feel you, and your cause is our cause. Your country needs you – every single one of you.

All of you who have been involved in this campaign and this movement for change and this cause, we need you. It is in our hour of need that your country needs you. Don't turn away, because we have not just a city of New Orleans to rebuild. We have an American house to rebuild.

This work goes on. It goes on right here in Musicians' Village. There are homes to build here, and in neighborhoods all along the Gulf. The work goes on for the students in crumbling schools just yearning for a chance to get ahead. It goes on for day care workers, for steel workers risking their lives in cities all across this country. And the work goes on for two hundred thousand men and women who wore the uniform of the United States of America, proud veterans, who go to sleep every night under bridges, or in shelters, or on grates, just as the people we saw on the way here today. Their cause is our cause.

Their struggle is our struggle. Their dreams are our dreams.

Do not turn away from these great struggles before us. Do not give up on the causes that we have fought for. Do not walk away from what's possible, because it's time for all of us, all of us together, to make the two Americas one.

Thank you. God bless you, and let's go to work. Thank you all very much.