tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-315927082024-03-07T16:29:17.509-05:00One Falling StarJess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.comBlogger66125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-4484729944952149122009-11-11T21:49:00.000-05:002009-11-11T21:50:36.433-05:00On the plane, from ABQ to BOSI felt a sad thought with a pricking in my eye, trained on the well-oiled hair of a man across the aisle from me. He might have felt it, too, as he looked up from his memorandum and looked over the heads around him.<br /><br />After leaving the airport bathroom I called Laura and asked her if I could get a second opinion on something. “Sure,” she said, and I told her it was 10AM here, and would it be too early for a beer? She told me it was 12 o’clock somewhere, and we both paused. “Five, I mean. Oh god, maybe you shouldn’t ask me. I say go for it, though.”<br /><br />Had it not been for my lingering sinus infection, and the acetamenophin-laced decongestants at Hudson, I would have stopped at the microbrewery’s restaurant. I regretted my week without hugging my mother nearly enough, my car ride to the ABQ that was mostly wordless, as we listened to the CD I made her the night before. Singing along to Josh Groban’s cover of “America”. The last time I’d be able to do that without 20-something guilt, I figured. Listening to music my grandmother would have liked, but not in a cool way. In a Yanni sort of way. Almost worse, in a Josh Groban way. Dear god. I would totally have his babies.<br /><br />I walked to my crowded gate.<br />I took the pills and ate some Asian snack mix. <br />I discovered I had to stop in St. Louis. Again.<br />I called my dad, who was on a walk.<br /><br />I can’t wait to call my mom. It’s her birthday. She might think it’s funny I find myself in St. Louis by surprise again. I miss her already.<br /><br />I’m listening to Christmas music, but I allow it because “O Holy Night” knows no season. That isn’t at all true, but it’s still my favorite. And yeah, it’s Josh Groban. How embarrassing, on so many levels.<br /><br />But at least my ass isn’t so huge I bump into people’s faces on my way to the airplane toilet.<br /><br />That was uncharitable. Especially because my ass is probably the hugest it’s ever been, and since I have so much time on my hands I should really work on being a bit healthier, body, soul, mind...anything else I’m missing.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-35463516516988740312008-12-28T16:12:00.005-05:002008-12-28T16:31:08.659-05:00Where did all the good coffee shops go?All I wanted to do on this unseasonably warm day was go to some cozy cafe and make French flash cards. I might not get around to it, because, after a few hours of considering where to go, I haven't come up with anything. Nothing at all.<br /><br />Well, one thing. But <a href="http://blogs.menupages.com/boston/2007/04/the_departed_curious_liquids_1.html">Curious Liquids</a> doesn't exist anymore. And frankly, since I've thought of Curious, nothing I've come up with as a possible substitute could come close to what I want, which is to sit in one of the little alcoves in the basement on a yellow antique armchair, nursing a caramel mocha steamer for hours and hours. <br /><br />I used to do this frequently in high school, as either celebration of the last day before some school break or mourning the impending loss of freedom that would come when my folks saw my report card. I could spend countless hours playing board games, reading British teen magazines, and writing prose in the style of Francesca Lia Block, all the while feeling equal parts grownup, in the know, and <i>Dead Poets Society</i>. And I was well looked after there, too. No matter what the situation, I always felt unbelievably safe. Unbelievable because teenage girls never feel/are safe, ever. There's always something eating at them, or someone out to get them. But everything seems okay in the sunny windows of an old building with pink whipped cream on your lips. Everything.<br /><br />It isn't quite what I'm looking for now, but no cafe in the metro Boston area compares, not even remotely, to what I'm looking for. Isn't Boston one of the top five coffee centers in the United States? Not that there isn't good coffee here. I would even go so far as to say we have good cafes, but few that are set up such that you'd want to stay, and I'm thinking none that want you to stay for very long. <br /><br />Cafe Vanille, for instance, is a great cafe and bakery. In the summer, it's a lovely place to hang out outside. Inside, though? Sterile and uncomfortable. Grey and a bit clanky. L'Aroma Cafe has a warmer interior, and is a great place for people-watching on the well-to-do end of Newbury, but the espresso? Bad. And the tables, I swear, are built so that you can't balance any books or papers on them.<br /><br />What happened to the great pastime of lounging in a[n independant] cafe, getting work done, writing the great American novel, or whatever suits your fancy? I'm wondering if I'm imagining a time when this was what one did from time to time in Boston. Was Curious Liquids (may it rest in peace, and maybe be reborn) the only place in Boston that was ever suitable for this? Did that culture die with that perfect Beacon Hill establishment?<br /><br />Do I have YET ANOTHER reason to move to Paris?Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-19374303627197029372008-09-04T06:29:00.003-05:002008-09-04T08:29:35.962-05:00Yelling cyclist, 24, keys trucks parked in bike lanes.I wish. The thought occurred to me today as I got rerouted in front of a speeding 18-wheeler on Comm Ave because a Coke delivery truck was making a stop at BU. There was some comfort in thinking I could make Boston a more bike-friendly city by attaching a saw wheel to my right shoulder.<br /><br />Wait a second: it wouldn't make this place any more bike-friendly than it's ever been. It's tragic, really, that a city as beautiful as Boston can't be enjoyed on a bicycle. It's too stressful. Between drivers that are notorious for doing as they please and defensive pedestrians who won't deign to use the crosswalk (and God, I know, I'm one), a person on a bike in Boston has to be focused so as not to get killed. Even our mayor, while promoting a bike commute as a means of going green and getting fit, got doored by just another driver who didn't take the three seconds necessary to look over her shoulder and see if anyone was approaching. Of course, Hizzoner is an easier target than most people I see on bikes, but it's a sad symbol of the Boston biker's dilemma.<br /><br />Now hold it: people on bikes are also to blame. Like the defensive pedestrian, many a cyclist has taken a catch-as-catch-can attitude to being on the road. But not all of them. Some people are just DUMB. Too often I see people going against the grain of the traffic, sometimes being bullheaded enough to go the wrong way in the bike lane, which has a picture of a bike going the right way painted on it. Then there are people who blaze through red lights, as if traffic laws didn't apply to them. I was stopped at a red light last week and was told by a smartass freshman that I didn't have to stop. I cannot tell a lie: I flipped him off.<br /><br />There's no question that the situation would be vastly improved by having bike lanes all over the city, but the truth is that a lot of what makes Boston so charming, its old winding streets, is exactly the reason that those of us on bikes can't enjoy it as we go. There is simply not enough room to add another lane, even if it's only a half of one, on a great many of our most centralized streets. As it is, there are too many one-way streets because we can't fit cars going in two directions. Until we come up with a better solution, we just need to learn to be more conscientious of one another.<br /><br />Drivers: re-examine your manuals! A bike is supposed to follow the same rules as a car! Bikers, take note: you can't expect folks in cars to be willing to share the road when you ride so aggressively. Please don't give us a bad name. Pedestrians: don't talk to bikers, but listen when we yell "look out!" That should be obvious, but you would be surprised.<br /><br />And remember: mass biking season is almost over. The wussier bikers out there (such as myself) will be back on the T shortly after first frost.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-88258254394251594082008-07-17T23:23:00.003-05:002008-07-17T23:50:25.746-05:00Suckerpunched by the B Line.The good news: I started a new job this week! I can now say I work for an organization that I believe in. Today was my third day.<br /><br />The bad news: It's on Comm Ave., just before Packard's Corner. I live in Roslindale. There are basically two ways to get from Roslindale to Allston. As the crow flies, they are maybe 15 minutes away from each other. On the T, it can range anywhere between 45 minutes to three hours. These feature three (3) of my four (4) least favorite modes of transportation on the MBTA.*<br /><br />Option A: Take the bus from Roslindale Square to Forest Hills. Take the Orange Line to Copley (or Downtown Crossing, Haymarket, or North Station), and transfer to the B line (1). Take that to Babcock St.<br />Option B: Take the bus from Roslindale Square to Forest Hills. Take the #39 bus (2) to the Mission Kill section of Mission Hill. Wait under the bridge until the #66 bus (3) comes. Take that to The Very Worst Part of Allston,** and walk 10 minutes in the stifling heat to Babcock St.<br /><br />As much as the B line tops the list, I decided to take it. After all, it's only slow because it stops every block, right? It still runs more than any other green line train. Right? WRONG.<br />Day 1 (Tuesday): I was pissed because I was waiting at Park St and it felt like the center of the earth. NO TRAINS CAME FOR 20 MINUTES. Then when they did come, they were the D and E before the B.<br />Day 2 (yesterday): At BU Central, they decided the train would go non-stop to Harvard Ave. Because we were on BU campus, the ground was covered in the previous night's vomit, and the smell wafted up to all the people crowded on the ghetto platform.<br />Day 3 (today): Copley station felt like the center of the earth, only this time there were no fans. Trains came as follows: D, C, E, E, D, B. When we got to Kenmore, everyone had to get off the train because nobody really wanted to go direct to Harvard Ave. at 6AM. I actually shed a few tears.<br /><br />*The other being the #1 bus.<br />**And I hate all parts of Allston.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-17427533030015307032008-07-17T23:10:00.002-05:002008-07-17T23:18:53.039-05:00Oh, so THIS is what it means to be a waitress.The bar/restaurant that I work for just started making the night I work karaoke night. Of all the people that work there, I am the only one who had something nice to say about it. That's putting it lightly. I was ecstatic. What greater excuse is there to go to karaoke every week? How cool is it to be the hidden talent of the waitstaff? How much more likely is it that I can drag people to visit me at work?<br /><br />The guy was taking song requests, too, for when nobody else wanted to sing. I asked him to play "Hello Mary Lou" by Ricky Nelson, and I think he didn't know whether to shit or go blind. And, in his book, he had my signature karaoke song: "Hey Jealousy" by the Gin Blossoms. My kickball bar and my regular karaoke bar don't, so this was <span style="font-style:italic;">thrilling</span>.<br /><br />By the end of the night...<br />I made more money than I did during the NBA playoffs.<br />My boss kissed me. Twice.*<br />A customer asked me to be in his band.**<br /><br />All this time I've been sitting at the hostess desk, eating nachos and reading books. THIS is what waitressing, as I always imagined it, anyway, is all about!<br /><br />* I could do without this.<br />** Pretty cool, actually. As his band is not of the Gin Blossoms cover variety, I think he will soon see that he doesn't want me in his band.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-11633646905202806592008-05-28T20:02:00.003-05:002008-12-11T10:31:23.489-05:00My age-old secret.Remember, I was busting at the seams?<br /><br />My mother is getting married in 38 days. I am happy for her. I really like Steve. I no longer entertain the idea of my parents ever getting together again. That was done, years and years ago. And, up until now, I've been really positive about this whole situation.<br /><br />Okay, I've been walking on eggshells around the house, because I got a save-the-date card and really couldn't put it on the fridge. And I got a formal invitation to the wedding, but I couldn't leave it out anywhere. And I'm a bridesmaid, and I can't tell Dad how the dress search is going. And I had to book a flight to New Mexico, but I couldn't talk about the soaring cost of flights to Albuquerque. Not that my dad hasn't been dating someone for a really long time, or that he isn't a grown man who doesn't need to be protected. But I know my dad, and he's nostalgic for their marriage and the way things used to be.<br /><br />My parents' marriage, as I experienced it, is only 20% of my life, really. I remember my parents talking in the front seat of the car as I slept in the back, my mom chewing watermelon and buttered popcorn jelly beans from Ogunquit. I remember Christmas mornings with Gumby and Pokey, and Irish soda bread with the Sheas, and Talking Heads dance parties, and Ring Around the Rosie. I remember my father's 35th birthday party, the day we got Sammy, training her to shut the door behind herself. I remember the day I asked permission to drink chocolate milk upstairs and instead sitting on my bed, talking about how things were going to change. I remember the feeling of chicken pox forming the day my mom moved out.<br /><br />To hear my dad talk about it after dinner every now and again, they were the dream team, and very much in love. That's why they married less than a year after they met. That's why it wasn't so big a disappointment for my father to be leaving the Brothers for good. And I came along a few years later, and they were the dream parenting team. Every time we go to Doyle's, we hear the John and Eileen method of taking a kid out to dinner.<br /><br />It's sad sometimes to hear my dad talk that way. A lot of family and friends tell me he never got over my mom, but I don't think that's true. The way my mom tells it, they sought counseling, and when they were asked to separate "loving each other" from "wanting to stay married". Mom says she said she thought she still loved him, but didn't want to be married to him anymore. She says Dad said the opposite. My dad is kind of in love with being in love, maybe, and forming habits with someone he cares about. I think that's reasonable, and not at all pathetic.<br /><br />That aside, I haven't been nostalgic for that time of my life since I was eight, maybe. Today I found a picture of me and my parents. It was taken in Torrington, to the side of my grandmother's house on Chelton St. None of us seem to care that anybody might take our picture. We look so candidly happy - and to think all those years I never thought much of it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnZNaupkUw75sn2X31guPU6AvUEEZDIJCxdhpiVEmuIGPnceXUlpSfsxVDpKrjTLqYp4KWaaRigXJ_2Ft0NO3HK0y_01bgfHBCCjXAKjXRmK1v3pVW9lPmhv2JPcYvJHiIghp/s1600-h/sc005551db.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqnZNaupkUw75sn2X31guPU6AvUEEZDIJCxdhpiVEmuIGPnceXUlpSfsxVDpKrjTLqYp4KWaaRigXJ_2Ft0NO3HK0y_01bgfHBCCjXAKjXRmK1v3pVW9lPmhv2JPcYvJHiIghp/s320/sc005551db.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212292702569754818" /></a><br /><br />So I guess in a way, the closer I get to my mom's wedding date, the more I come close to mourning my parents' marriage. What did Kubler-Ross says about grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance? I'm beginning to think it's been an awfully long period of depression.<br /><br />I'm glad I have my best friend as my date. Who knows how I'll feel in July.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-80021216202616044892008-04-23T21:49:00.007-05:002008-05-23T14:16:06.827-05:00Your love life will improve if you dreamed of an avocado.I've stepped outside myself in the last week or so, taking risks I wouldn't have taken in all walks of my life, including those risks that are the result of inactivity, like not returning the phone calls of the HR manager who took a shining to me a month or so ago. Risks aren't always smart, and I'm far too often aware of that, but sometimes they're good.<br /><br />Taking on an extra source of income, and one that supports one of my passions, at that, is a huge risk. It comes with its benefits. I got to go to an avocado dinner the other night, and it was delicious (I even tasted, but did not bite, three kinds of fish - and ate duck and cactus and avocado ice cream! Risks, all, for a picky eater such as myself)! <br /><br />What's wrong with an avocado dinner? Dreaming about it a week later, when you're trying to show people from work all the different dishes, and each literal dish sticks to your fingers and the checkered tablecloth, so as you try to gesture to each course, there's a clashing of plates and forks, and ceviche and guacamole spill everywhere, and everybody tries to be nice and pretend it didn't happen, but you can't stop talking about your damned avocados. And what does the dream dictionary say? <br /><br />Your love life will improve if you dreamed of an avocado.<br /><br />Clearly, this dream dictionary is a fraud. Why I am I dreaming about people from work, anyway? What do they have to do with avocados, in any sense? Why are the plates sticking to my fingers? Why are they being so polite? Blow up, already!<br /><br />Why am I looking for an explosion?Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-33621101160771417722008-04-14T19:33:00.002-05:002008-04-14T19:40:00.064-05:00Back from Paris, and busy again.I thought I would be less busy when I came home, having been certified to teach English as a foreign language (read: I have my Saturdays back!!). Not so! I'm up to something new! A few somethings, actually.<br /><br />Remember when I was interviewed by one of my best friends for her MenuPages blog? I'll be writing the odd entry there now - about nine a week, in fact. So check me out <a href="http://blogs.menupages.com/boston">there</a>.<br /><br />I'm looking for any English or French tutoring I can get my grubby paws on. Suggestions? Let me know.<br /><br />In particular, I need to go back to France without delay. Preferably on a closer to permanent level. Anyone know of a school in France that would help a nice and funny American girl get her EU working papers? Let me know sooner.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-84244084289080544842008-04-06T14:11:00.003-05:002008-04-07T07:44:58.985-05:00À Paris, malade.I am in Paris. I have looked forward to this trip since November. I have the following ailments:<br /><br />Conjunctivitis (in both eyes)<br />Sinus infection<br />Sore throat<br />Cough<br /><br />Yesterday, it was just the conjunctivitis (in one eye) and sinus infection (for which I had medicine already). I drag myself to the <em>pharmacie</em>.<br /><br />Moi: J'ai mal aux yeux.<br />Elle: Oui, je peux le voir. <br />Moi: J'ai besoin du medicin.<br />Elle: (En francais, bien sur) You will need this eye wash. Rinse out both eyes three times every day - you never know, the other one might be infected already. Also, apply this antibiotic to your eyes every day.<br />L'autre femme: Et la Baccide!<br />Elle: Ah oui. La Baccide est pour les mains.<br />Moi: Ca coute combien?<br />Elle: 18.60.<br />Moi: [Shockee, because I got OTC antibiotic and more. For so little!]<br /><br />And then today, at Place Blanche...<br />Moi: J'ai mal de gorge. Et aux yeux, mais j'ai deja le medicin pour ca.<br />Elle: Vous avez difficulte avaler?<br />Moi: Pardon?<br />Elle: Avaler (makes swallowing motion).<br />Moi: Ah oui.<br />Elle: (Aussi en francais, bien sur) You will need this syrup. It will ease the swelling, and make it easier to swallow. Three tablespoons a day.<br />Moi: D'accord.<br />Elle: Avez-vous de l'aspirine?<br />Moi: Non?<br />Elle: Voici l'aspirine. Trois fois par jour.<br />Moi: D'accord. [Note later: this is fizzy, comes in two Airborne-like tubes, and containes vitamin C]<br />Elle: Et des pastilles. Merci. Au revoir.<br />Moi: [Shockee encore, parce que le medicin goute tres bien]<br /><br />It's insane. And if I wanted to go to the doctor, it wouldn't cost much. And for the French, it wouldn't cost anything. I don't want to leave, ever.<br /><br />It sucks that I'm sick on vacation in Paris, but there is probably no better place in the world to be sick.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-82804900598644433152008-03-07T14:15:00.001-05:002008-03-07T14:15:50.410-05:00One drawback of laughing gas.So I've had to go to the dentist an awful lot in the last two months. I have always been petrified of the dentist, scarred for life by the ghosts of dentists past. I finally sucked it up and went to a new dentist, who I like very much. Apart from my dentist and his assistant's phenomenal chairside manner, my office visits have improved with the help of laughing gas.<br /><br />It really calms me down. It is, as my dentist told me, like a couple glasses of wine. <br /><br />I think they turned it up a little high the other day, because I admitted I was especially nervous. As they left the room to let the gas kick in, I lay listening to the satellite "blend" station was on the speakers. I found myself drifting off to the sound of Jimmy Buffet. Looking for my lost shaker of salt.<br /><br />WAIT.<br /><br />I HATE JIMMY BUFFET.<br /><br />But for that period of time, I was wasted away again in Margaritaville. And it was calming. And yeah, I liked it.<br /><br />Don't worry - I'm normal now. Even laughing gas can't make a parrothead out of me. Not permanently, anyway.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-1161710438690968002008-02-10T20:53:00.000-05:002008-02-10T21:23:40.416-05:00An open letter to theknot.com.Dear Knot,<br /><br />I have loved you - I have! When you debuted when I was in high school, I was one of the many dorky <a href="http://estherwatson.com/comics16.htm">unlovable</a> teenage girls who signed up as members with their crush as their fiance and set some random wedding date after the year 2000. What a great idea, right? Like a wedding planner for girls who don't want wedding planners. Everything bridal at the bride-to-be's fingertips, complete with a personal organizer and free couple's webpage. Genius!<br /><br />I signed up, I forget who I said was my fiance, I forget the date I claimed I would be married, but I had a TON of fun looking at dresses with outrageous prices, gazing all day at that off-the-shoulder, 3/4-length sleeved Reem Acra gown I had originally found in Martha Stewart's Weddings magazine. Logging in and seeing "Welcome, Jessica & Cuteboy" was bound to have me reeling in a daydream when Mr. Cuteboy and I would someday be living in a house with all the things I'd registered for, looking at albums of me and my bridesmaids in their gowns I had so carefully chosen.<br /><br />I am no longer 16, and while I'm not getting married any time soon, it's time for me to visit your site again. This time, for real. I'll be a bridesmaid twice over, and while my mom isn't doing any sort of planning that might require your assistance, my dear friend Emma has sent me a number of pictures of potential bridesmaid dresses. In order to see them, I had to suck it up, and bite the bullet.<br /><br />I was relieved I didn't have to humiliate myself by making up a phony account. I was glad I could choose "bridesmaid", even though I had to distinguish myself as one "playing the field" rather than any of the other corny relationship status titles I could have chosen. But why did I have to tell you when somebody else was getting married? They haven't set a date yet, so <span style="font-style:italic;">I had to make it up again.</span><br /><br />And WHY oh WHY is it that when I sign on, I'm greeted by "Welcome, Jess &"?? Is it not enough that I already had to establish myself as the girl who is always the bridesmaid and never the bride? Are you trying to make me feel incomplete? I don't have any anxieties about this, normally. Or I should say, I didn't. Why do you do this to me?<br /><br />I feel betrayed, Knot. And I know I'm probably going to have to make use of your invaluable services someday.<br /><br />That is, if I ever get married. Because, you know, I'm a mulletted, Skoal-chewing shortstop <span style="font-style:italic;">playing the field</span> in what is projected to be sky blue taffeta.<br /><br />Bite me,<br /><br />JessJess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-66143006136148059242008-01-28T20:35:00.000-05:002008-02-04T22:24:53.670-05:00February 5th comes so quickly!I catch up on my presidential candidates on an individual basis. I come up with an opinion on each without comparison to the others, and then later I compare the ones I can still stand.<br /><br />I'd written off Edwards as soon as I heard about that enormously expensive haircut. Or no, it was when he was the first person to be openly badmouthing his opponents in his ads. No wait, it was when the fact that he was southern didn't win us a democratic president in 2004. I don't like him. He rubs me the wrong way. And for someone whose most admirable political plan is to end poverty in 30 years, he sure spends an awful lot of money on things that don't matter too much.<br /><br />Hillary - I like Hillary. She's a politician, yes, and she seems to calculate her every political move with no apology or regard for those affected. But! That's almost what I like about her, that tenacity. I think politicians give up their integrity the minute they enter the big game - in particular, I think progressive candidates give up their integrity when they raise and spend so much money for the purpose of getting a job when such huge amounts could put a serious dent in any of our causes that are lacking in funds. So I'll say it: I respect her, and as she was the second-to-last candidate I reviewed for myself, I was totally in her corner, near ready to vote.<br /><br />I knew that Obama could end up being my decision for next Tuesday. I knew because all of my friends have already supported Obama on their Facebook profiles, because he's a moving speaker, and because he's against the war in Iraq. But all this time I have been wary. I've been burned before - by Howard Dean, by Felix Arroyo, and by Deval Patrick. By the time I decide to jump on the bandwagon that every other liberal in my generation has jumped on, they go crazy, they get lazy, or they have a new commuter rail line as their crowning achievement in their first year in office. And frankly, I have had it!<br /><br />That isn't Barack Obama's fault. But that is why I saved him for last. I still haven't read "The Audacity of Hope", but I plan to before I vote. I was actually going to start tomorrow, and then I heard on NPR/read in the Globe/saw on CNN and the BBC that <a href="http://my.barackobama.com/page/s/kennedystream">Ted Kennedy is officially endorsing Barack Obama</a>.<br /><br />Ted Kennedy is who I want for president. Obviously this cannot be. And obviously Kennedy's endorsement does not make Obama Kennedy. But my bandwagon skepticism has waned considerably thanks to this new development, mostly because Ted Kennedy hasn't made an enormous rash decision since 1969.<br /><br />I hate that I'm so easily swayed by that, but I am. Anyway, on to Obama's "Hope".Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-2006389703315557872008-01-27T09:54:00.001-05:002008-01-27T10:00:45.250-05:00At least I meet somebody's requirements...I'm on a job application kick like you wouldn't believe, and as I have had, on average, one interview per 50 jobs I've applied for (really!), I'm just going to keep applying willy-nilly until somebody offers me a job.<br /><br />That said, I made the first step in applying for a flight attendant position with Delta. My favorite question was:<br /><br />Are you willing to serve peanuts?<br /><br />Really.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-9066863007194941292008-01-13T21:30:00.000-05:002008-01-13T21:46:08.209-05:00Me che naav Jess!Yesterday I started my TEFL (Teaching English as a Foreign Language) certification course. I can speak a bit of a few languages, but not enough to teach English in a language that isn't English, so the idea behind this style of language instruction is to use the communicative method, speaking nothing but the language being taught.<br /><br />The day started with a lesson taught in Kashmiri. Just to show what it's like to be on the other side of the classroom. I knew it was going to be difficult, but WOW. On the other hand, the style has got to be very effective, because in 35 minutes I learned a lot!<br /><br />My name is Jess. <span style="font-style:italic;">Me che naav Jess.</span><br />What is your name? <span style="font-style:italic;">Tze kati che naav?<br /></span><br />Also the numbers 1-16 (there were 16 of us in the class - my favorite number was 8, pronounced ü-uht), talking about where we live, what we do, etc.<br /><br />So cool! But it confirms my suspicion that I am mostly incapable of learning a language in a totally different alphabet.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />Shabaash.</span> (Good.)<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">Shukriya.</span> (Thank you.)Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-57346059512326407312008-01-09T09:41:00.000-05:002008-01-09T21:06:40.336-05:00DeliveranceI'm calling in an order to a publishing company in Virginia, and the hold music is "Dueling Banjos".<br /><br />I'm worried that this might set the tone of the day.<br /><br />I'm also worried that they don't realize how funny that is.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-2624884693338560472008-01-08T09:02:00.000-05:002008-01-08T09:05:31.183-05:00Lovely day for a scooter!<a href="http://webpages.charter.net/hodakaguy/hodakaguy/IMG_0331.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://webpages.charter.net/hodakaguy/hodakaguy/IMG_0331.JPG" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Sure wish I had one.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-10047767280029514282008-01-07T17:53:00.000-05:002008-01-07T17:54:06.517-05:00I've had about a gallon of coffee today.That's disgusting. And true.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-13012889308789202022008-01-06T13:52:00.001-05:002008-01-06T14:10:20.040-05:00In light of Iowa.I don't know who I intend to vote for. I loathe Mitt Romney to such an extent that on my birthday last year, my dad blacked out his name in the newspaper so that I wouldn't see it first thing and be pissed off all day.<br /><br />Those who are also undecided should check <a href="http://www.dehp.net/candidate/index.php">this</a> out. While I'm pretty sure you can't take it as gospel, and of course there are plenty of candidates who have dropped out since the quiz was made, it's at least a starting point. All the ad campaigns and caucuses can be pretty overwhelming.<br /><br />Here are my results:<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Score Candidate <br />Disagreements<br />Unknowns, Other </span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">67 Kucinich </span> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Disagreements: (0) <br />Unknowns/Other: (0)</span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">55 Gravel <br />Disagreements: (0) <br />Unknowns/Other: (5)</span> ANWR Drilling, Assault Weapons Ban, Guns - Background Checks, Wiretapping, Minimum Wage Increase<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">45 Obama <br />Disagreements: (3) </span>Patriot Act, Border Fence, Same-Sex Marriage<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Unknowns/Other: (2)</span> Torture, Iran - Military Action<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">32 Edwards <br />Disagreements: (4)</span> Death Penalty, Patriot Act, Iran - Military Action, Same-Sex Marriage<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Unknowns/Other: (1)</span> Border Fence<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">31 Clinton <br />Disagreements: (5)</span> Death Penalty, Patriot Act, Border Fence, Iran - Military Action, Same-Sex Marriage<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Unknowns/Other: (0)</span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">26 Biden <br />Disagreements: (4) </span>Death Penalty, Patriot Act, Border Fence, Same-Sex Marriage<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Unknowns/Other: (3)</span> Iran - Military Action, Same-Sex Civil Union, Universal Healthcare<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">26 Dodd </span><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Disagreements: (4) </span>Death Penalty, Patriot Act, Border Fence, Iran - Military Action<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Unknowns/Other: (3)</span> Same-Sex Marriage, Same-Sex Civil Union, Universal Healthcare<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">24 Richardson </span> <br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Disagreements: (5) </span>Death Penalty, Assault Weapons Ban, Patriot Act, Iran - Military Action, Same-Sex Marriage<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Unknowns/Other: (2)</span> ANWR Drilling, Iraq War<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">8 Paul <br />Disagreements: (10)</span> Abortion Rights, Embryonic Stem Cells, ANWR Drilling, Assault Weapons Ban, Guns - Background Checks, Citizenship Path for Illegals, Border Fence, Minimum Wage Increase, Same-Sex Marriage, Universal Healthcare<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Unknowns/Other: (1)</span> Same-Sex Civil Union<br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">-20 T. Thompson 7/12<br />-21 Giuliani 12/1<br />-23 Brownback 13/2<br />-24 McCain 12/1<br />-35 Cox 11/6<br />-48 Huckabee 15/3<br />-58 Tancredo 18/1<br />-60 Hunter 18/2<br />-61 Romney 17/2</span><br /><br />So thanks, Matt Waterman, for giving me a starting point. Now I don't need to read every candidate's well-timed autobiography before November.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-19664595392385878382008-01-01T23:15:00.000-05:002008-01-01T23:21:33.841-05:00Accomplishments of the year to date.1. Almost spelled accomplishments "accomplischments". Still not sure why.<br />2. Won terrific Dexter boots on eBay.<br />3. Got ready to go out in less than 20 minutes.<br />4. Went to a show with no guarantee that I would know anybody there.<br />5. Finished "The Amber Spyglass", and therefore the "His Dark Materials" trilogy - for the first time!<br /><br />I know there are other things that are personally list-worthy. Not that any blogrollers might be into.<br /><br />Stuck in my head for a week: "Little Dawn" by Ted Leo and the Pharmacists. Not complaining.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-507258638294410392007-12-27T12:51:00.000-05:002007-12-27T12:53:53.872-05:00Back from Illadelph.Dear Jess,<br /><br />Welcome back to Boston. We, the powers that be, would like to show our gladness for your return by granting you a miserable, cold, Londonesque day of rain and wind. We heard you liked that sort of thing.<br /><br />Love,<br /><br />New England Weather<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">If you don't like the weather in New England, wait a minute!</span>Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-74845880535473675172007-12-09T18:29:00.000-05:002007-12-09T19:06:46.267-05:00Damn it feels good to be a hipsta.I'm not a hipster, actually. I have plenty of hipsterish friends, enough hipstery leanings in fashion and music, but a hipster I am not. <br /><br />For instance, this is one of the funny-because-it's-truest things I've seen in a while (especially because it is modeled after <a href="http://youtube.com/watch?v=OMSic0V-Xww">Monty Python's Upperclass Twit of the Year</a>):<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/kAO4EVMlpwM&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/kAO4EVMlpwM&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br />I don't even like going to shows anymore because I've been having a growing distaste for all the people dancing on me, the ones that elbow me in the face and get mad at me when I push back, the tall ones that don't let four inches get between my face and their backs, the ones who sing so loudly that I can't hear anymore, the ones who go to shows to catch up with old friends, etc. <br /><br />That being said, I really do like going to the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Middle_East_%28nightclub%29">Middle East</a>. I like going for dinner Upstairs or at ZuZu. I like ZuZu's Roots and Razors night every other Wednesday, I like the belly dancing on the Corner, I like that the crowd space Downstairs is raked so you can see better from the back. I like the bartender who used to play bass for the Charms. I like that somehow, everything is connected, and that nobody really yelled at me for sneaking through the kitchen from the Corner to the Upstairs, but rather I was told that I couldn't leave. I like the local art, the bright colors on the walls, the people-watching opportunities, the staff that's been there forever, and I like the food, the wine and the beer.<br /><br />I spent most of my weekend on the corner of Mass Ave and Douglass, and had I not had the Plague, it would have been a near-perfect couple days. Granted, the Raging Teens X-Mas Party was at a freezing cold TT's, but it was the same crowd. One of the people I saw there was in the band I saw the next day. I like that about the Middle East, too. You always know somebody, if not by having ever spoken to them.<br /><br />I'm glad, however, that I don't know the schmuck who wrote the one review of the Middle East on Menupages. This person, who might be the world's biggest tool, said:<br /><br /><blockquote>This joint ain't bad. It has the funk I love. Great mix of customers of all stripes (and plaids). Pretty fair food. Unbelivelaby indifferent service. Music is the balls downstairs however. Eclectic (did I say eclectic? Oh my! If I use the word ambience tickle me till I'm pink). Where can you see Gogol Bordello, a band from the circus and a young student singer-songwriter under one roof? Service downstairs is worse than the upstairs. Haughty hotties give perfunctory service. Never the less downstairs is close, crowded, loud, hot and wicked fun.</blockquote><br /><br />I'm glad you like it, sir. But "haughty hotties" is neither clever nor respectful, you cannot spell, and self-conscious parenthetical musings have no place in restaurant reviews. And tell me you didn't call it a "joint".Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-1721964584038938732007-12-01T15:34:00.000-05:002007-12-01T15:39:22.828-05:00Busting at the seams.Don't you hate when someone tells you the most remarkable secret you've gotten your hands on in years and it's amazing and happy and you can't tell anyone?<br /><br />When that happens, I mean, it sucks.<br /><br />Or as a hypothetical...<br /><br />Never mind, I wish I could publish this secret here. Now I have to wait a week. Picture a Brechtian silent scream. That's me right about now.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-477231676313082402007-11-21T09:37:00.000-05:002007-11-21T10:18:27.494-05:00Christmas songs WROR can play all they want.(In no particular order.)<br /><br />Nat King Cole : The Christmas Song<br />U2 : Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)<br />Boston Pops : Sleigh Ride*<br />The Ronettes : Sleigh Ride*<br />Mariah Carey : All I Want for Christmas Is You<br />The Kinks : Father Christmas<br />Frank Sinatra : Jingle Bells<br />Stevie Wonder: Someday at Christmas<br />Elvis Presley: Let's face it - anything.<br />Bing Crosby and David Bowie : Little Drummer Boy<br />Rosemary Clooney : Sisters**<br />Rosemary Clooney and Bing Crosby : Count Your Blessings Instead of Sheep**<br /><br />* Note the absence of the Johnny Mathis version.<br />** I know they won’t.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-70568530470291357112007-11-16T15:37:00.000-05:002007-11-16T15:39:01.398-05:00A note I made at work some time ago.My coworker just reminded me of a post-it I left for her after spending a day placing publisher orders. On this particular occasion I had been placing an order with Perseus Distrubution for a book on prejudice. <br /><br />My note read like this :<br /><br />The word was prejudice.<br />She pronounced it « Pray Judas »<br />Then she corrected herself,<br />Pre-Justice.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-31592708.post-13182697477509006472007-11-15T11:47:00.000-05:002007-11-15T11:48:50.334-05:00How much of this response is canned, I wonder?Hi Jessica ,<br /><br />Thanks for listening to 105.7 WROR and thanks for your comments about our programming.<br /><br />Here at WROR, we find Christmas fun and worthy of celebrating. With Thanksgiving next week, we thought it we’d get into the spirit now. Led by Loren and Wally, we are all excited to celebrate the season by having some fun and playing Boston’s Favorite Christmas Songs. I’m sorry you don’t agree. <br /><br />We will try to vary up the list, although there are only so many Christmas songs that are good and that people like.<br /><br />Hopefully, when the spirit of fun touches you, you might join us. Santa will be available to talk to kids of all ages weeknights from 6 to 8.<br /><br />I appreciate you taking the time to write and appreciate your loyal listening over the years.<br /><br />We will return to playing Boston’s Greatest Hits on December 26.Jess Mullenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18272223999576010150noreply@blogger.com2