You can take a horse to the water,
but you can't make it drink
You can have it all laid out in front of you,
but it still don't make you think.
JOWLS (and rating them)
-Walking in the grass with no shoes on
-The smell of moss
-Arguing with people online
-Jumping on the trampoline
-Not cracking my head open on the trampoline
-Super Nintendo (anything after that is too avanced ;-))
-Full House reruns
-European people in general
-Being picked up by the currents of big waves
-Riding my bike really fast down hills
-Baby Sitters Club books (High-quality reading!)
-Laughing so hard that I piss my pants
I don't like:
-The Hyannis Mets
-Cape League umpires
-when people say "PB&J" - it's peanut butter and jelly, people!
-The way my feet feel after walking in the sand
-Fake french manicured fingernails
-Kids who raid their parents liquor cabinets
-Pop music for the most part - I don't understand rap
-Eating an entire container of ice cream in two minutes then realizing what I've just done
-Squirting ketchup on my sister's toilet seat then realizing what Iive just done
-The paste that forms from sweat and dirt when you wear flip-flops and gets up between your toes
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Jason cut his hair.
Jason cut his hair!
Jason cut his hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Noooooo. I loved Jason's hair - it was SO COOL. I loved his pseudo-mullet. I loved how it stuck up on the top. But no, now it's just a plain, normal, wedding-appropriate cut. Why did he have to be such a good friend that he was made a best man? Why? The world is supposed to revolve around me and my taste in hairrrrrr.
We gave him the nickname "hair" - evolving into Harry - for a reason. He had cool hair.
But that is no longer.
Note this quote from an earlier entry: "Jason is the nicest and most adorable guy ever. And he has really cool hair." See? Now he's just the nicest and most adorable guy ever. WITHOUT COOL HAIR. The cool hair is gone. Adios, brilliant, wonderful, cool hair.
This is the dawning of a new era. A worse one.
I cannot speak of this matter anymore. I am in mourning.
P.S. "Deonny Lehmannnnnn!!"
(This is in [ugly] maroon for Kettleers playoff good luck.)
Posted at 12:06 am by Jackjasmine
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
There are so many stars tonight.
Clusters and veins across the sky, dustings of glitter, the gauziness of the Milky Way like the spine of it all.
I got out of the minivan and it was awe-inspiring, so many, why so many tonight?
I wanted to look at them, lie on my back on the hairy dog blanket, but as I sunk into it, it was frightening, the darkness in the corners, the thick forest bordering our yard, the huge Great Trees, that I love, but are so big that they're almost haunting at night. I imagined myself being dragged away by some masked man, and no one would notice, because no one would hear my screams, their being indoors and everything. So, accepting defeat, I gathered up the dogs' blanket and went inside.
Kathryn would understand. She'd lie on the blanket next to me, strangely quiet and contemplative for Kathryn. She gets the stars like I do, her annoying habits fall away, and she just looks. We like watching lunar eclipses on the front lawn. For some reason, they always occur when Mom and Dad are out to dinner, and she and I run around the house shutting off every light. The house seems to blend in more without the lights on, like rather than being a separate entity, it is a part of outside, just with a thin barrier of fiberglass, wood, and plaster separating it from the air and trees and sky. We can see the stars and moon better with no lights on, and rather than being afraid of the darkness, I embrace it, come to resent the artificial light from our faraway neighbor's house. There is no fear here, even in awkward Kathryn, she just breathes, we have a calm alliance with the darkness. We have intellectual discussions of all the possibilities that the Universe is seeped in. Something about that makes us more equal, differences slipping away like butter. It's all okay. When Mom and Dad finally pull up, fed and happy, the glaring headlights stinging our eyes, I'm sad that it's over, I'm sad that it has to return to the Way That It Is, but it does, because that's how things work. She bothers me. But not under the blanket of stars.
It's not like her quirks go away, they just become funny, cute, not as glaring. We relate, squeal with joy at shooting stars. Meteors, sure, but shooting stars sounds more romantic. It's a tiny bit of perfect.
But she's not here today, away at some horse camp in Vermont for the week. I'm sure when she returns, I'll forget all about this fondness, about this missing, even. That's why I have to write it down, so I don't forget that I missed her. She'll leave her saddles on the kitchen stools, her riding boots in the couch, clementine peels on the TV tray and cushions. She'll wear her filthy green barn jacket that reeks of manure and hay, laugh at inappropriate moments, and feed me heaping spoonfuls of her newfound teenage attitude.
My how she loves her attitude. She thinks it makes her mature. It does not.
She'll come home, the annoying habits will return, but there will be other nights with so many stars. We just have to be patient, because they will come, but you can't force it.
Because when you force things, it ruins them.
Posted at 11:50 pm by Jackjasmine
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Watch me bust out my killer moves.
I am the ultimate traffic jam entertainer.
Amy and I drove to Hingham the other day to go to Whole Foods, because we love Whole Foods. They have the best food, like vegetarian jello and all sorts of different varieties of organic boxed macaroni and cheese, which is like my primary food group.
I had to go to a melody tent concert, and Amy had to babysit for Christopher James (Cutest, easiest baby ever), so we had to leave a little early, because we had anticipated bridge traffic. There was bridge traffic. We proceeded to whip out some super snazzy boogie-ing.
There was this father and son on a fishing trip, and they thoroughly enjoyed our silly (I mean serious) disco dancing.
And since then I have not been able to stop dancing. The rhythm is in me. GOD PUT THE RHYTHM IN ME.
I truly wish that I could demonstrate my mad grooving skills over the web, but sadly that isn't possible.
Anyway, I totally reinvented dance. Amy helped too, really. We are the traffic jam entertainment tag team. We are undercover traffic jam entertainers. Maybe I should go pro in dance.
I'll have to inform Mrs. Bellamy of my new potential - I mean definite - career path.
Posted at 03:50 pm by Jackjasmine
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
We just found out who the All Stars are.
Jason, Brad, Guzzi, Bryan (?), and Gaddy made it.
Our Nugget (Josh's strange nickname), however, did not. He is an incredible pitcher (despite my bias), and has a better record and ERA than the majority of our all-star team's pitchers. Dallas Fucking Buck (hee, that sort of rhymes!) has a 1-3 record and a 4.25 ERA, and he made it. Because he's Dallas Buck, and he has a name that people have heard of. Damn the Buck, Damn him.
Josh has a 4-0 record and a 1.31 ERA. You do the math.
Brad made the home run derby, though. That pleases me. I'm quite happy for Jason, but a tad disappointed because we might've been able to play mario party with him on the days that he goes to Fenway and the game.
I have a huge ass bone to pick with the CCBL officials.
I hate the Cape League people who pick the all-stars and the pitcher-player of the week.
And I hate Chatham. *Chatham*
Because I just had to get that in there.
Posted at 10:05 pm by Jackjasmine
Jason and Brad and Amy and me are going to have a mario party.
I am so thrilled.
Jason is the nicest and most adorable guy ever. And he has really cool hair. Unlike Josh, Jason and Brad smile a lot. Not that Josh doesn't smile, but Jason and Brad smile a lot. Especially Brad. Besides, Jason and Brad are from last year and they're from California, and Jason's favorite video game is Mario, so we have a responsibility to teach him the complexities that make up Mario Party. And Brad's just happy about everything, so Jason'll bring him.
Amy and I wanted to be his friend last year, but we were too socially awkward to say anything, but now, now we are not. We just marched right on up to Jason and asked him if he had a hankering to play Mario Party (in different words, of course.) He said he would enjoy it (in different words, again. It'd be weird if he said it that way). So now I am MIND MARY, the Mary who has no problem giving a tall, cool-haired Californian college baseball player her sister's cell phone number. So now I will enjoy the fun if not weird benefits of having Super Shortstop Jason in my family room playing (or laughing at the weirdness of) Mario Party avec moi.
I'm so disappointed in myself for not updating sooner. Too much has happened and I'm too lazy to write it all. But I will (WILL) write every day from now on, because I want to remember what it was like having Josh in our house, and baseball going on and everything. I can always read Amy's livejournal, though. But I'm better than her, so my memories will be more humorous. (Just kidding. Even though I am the Chandler of our family.)
Speaking of Josh, he marched into the kitchen today wearing a Chatham A's t-shirt. He CANNOT do that! He is a Kettleer, not an A. I HATE THE A'S. Everyone loooves Chatham because it has wooden gas station signs and shingled houses. Ooooooh. [/end immature voice]. And Josh, a player for another team, purchases an A's sweatshirt? Nooooo. He bought it because he thought it was nice looking. And it is. But still! This is principle! Grrrr. How I wish Josh cared about things like I do. Er, I wish Josh cared about things a small fraction of the way I do. And an even smaller fraction of the way Amy does.
The All-stars are gonna be announced soon. If I could pick the guys from our team, I'd pick Toneguzzi (Guzzi) from Thunderbay! (Ontario, BEST TOWN NAME EVVVEERRRR. Superheroes should SO hail from there!), Gaddy the catcher, Josh (he's the best pitcher on our team, look at the cape league top ten league pitchers in the Cape Cod Times, he's in there!), Brad, and Shane. And they were supposed to announce them today, but they didn't.
Oh well, I'll bask in the glory or our appointment with Jason. The other night I saw kids from our school at White Hen. Just sitting there. They have yet to realize that the cool new thing to do is play Mario Party. Jason knows it. And they could only dream of being as cool as Jason. Or Guzzi. Just because I enjoy saying Goooozie.
Check this out, too, I saw a BBC World News special on it.
Posted at 07:24 pm by Jackjasmine
Friday, July 15, 2005
I need to update. Desperately. About baseball and hosting and Josh and everything.
And I will.
Posted at 12:33 am by Jackjasmine
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Everyone has their thing.
That thing that would define them in a romantic comedy, their one quirk or characteristic that they use to identify perfection. You know the moon is more than a moon, you only eat the brown M&Ms, you connect your freckles, etc.
My thing is that I cover up the books.
Any horrible republican anti-liberal book is covered with a liberal one. Ann Coulter is covered with books warning of global warming. Those horrible pieces of crap don't deserve to be seen. I want Ann Coulter in horrible life-destroying debt. I want people's cheery days to not be destroyed by the horribleness that is conservative America. So I cover up the books. Not a big deal or anything, but I do save the world one eensy weensy step at a time.
The other day in Barnes & Noble Amy called me over and asked me if I had put Michael Moore over some Republican banter, and I had not. There is someone else, another book coverer. Were this a romantic comedy, he'd be perfect. The right age, attractive. I know that this is reality so the book coverer was a middle-aged overweight patriots-sweatshirt-wearing woman. But if I ever saw an attractive man around my age - hell if I ever saw anyone - covering up the books too, I would say something, step out of my shy, reserved shell and say something. That is simply too cool.
The guy I pictured doing it had glasses and black hair. He isn't my perfect physical man, but if I found a guy my age who also covers books, there is not way things could be that perfect. We book coverers are weird. But he'd layer a tee-shirt with a long-sleeved one, because I like that.
Book coverers are few and far apart, but there is one unifying characteristic.
We are super-cool.
Posted at 02:17 pm by Jackjasmine
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Today is my last last day of school. I mean, not really, but the typical lsat day of school with the barbeque and the ice cream sandwiches and the coffee house.
Next year I'll just quietly leave at Senior Day, no honest conclusion until "commencement."
It's weird having no schoolwork left. I feel weird just doing nothing, and guilty for not having a job yet. I need to buy myself some new social skills - especially the type the specializes in job applications.
So it's summer now. Well, sort of. I'm in school, but all my academic classes are over with. It's weird, Junior year just sort of slipped away, bogged down in melancholy and endings and beginnings and just unnaturalness.
This year was weird.
Next year will probably be weirder, but now it's just summer. The time when time stops, when everything hums along slowly, humidity seeping through everything, skin like lobsters and Dorothy's slippers. This summer will be especially weird, what with our Kettleer and everything.
I've learned that whenever I write a smart, thoughtful entry, I do it in some variation of turquoise, typed out in Courier, like a typewriter.
All the goofy entries are Arial and bright.
The end of school years are always weird for me, it seems like I'm working impossibly hard then all of a sudden I'm released from the clutches of academics, and it's just over. Just like that. Like a breath - blink and you miss it. My mood's always weird for the few days after, like I'm cutting classes or like school couldn't possibly be over already. But it is. Just like that, an almost inaudible *poof*, then silence and ice cream and nachos and yelling at umpires and swimming and sitting and reading books that I hate but are supposed to be smart and movies and tv and veggie burgers and sandals and tank tops and skirts that blow in the wind and the smell of the pond and babysitting and collapsing in the air conditioning. Then it happens again.
Posted at 11:19 am by Jackjasmine
Sunday, May 08, 2005
Posted at 03:17 pm by Jackjasmine
I can't believe I just wrote about the weather
Dad is trying to get me to clean. I am not.
I should, and I want to make him happy, but...cleaning takes too much effort! It so isn't worth it to clean, because it always gets dirty again. I am going to be so gross when I'm older and no one else cleans because I live alone. My whole house will look like my bedroom does now. Ew. Maybe I should clean.
The weather here has been gross for the past few days. It is so windy! My driver's ed instructor predicted it, too. I had driving hours on Friday, and he'd said there was going to be a Nor'Easter, and I told Dad and he didn't believe me. Then we woke up yesterday and it was really windy and rainy, and he admitted I was right. Hee, I love being right.
I have been so boring lately! I have nothing to talk about! You know it's terrible if I write an entire paragraph about the weather
Shame on me.
Ooh, I just remembered something I can talk about! Kathryn is going to be doing a 30-day trial of this horse, Mercedes. Wretched name, I know. She rode one once named Gucci, though. The trash names amaze me. I'm trying to convice her to name him Apollo, because I think it's a cool name that inspires thoughts of power and magic, but she wants to name him "Sunset Eclipse." I keep trying to convince her that eclipses don't occur at sunset, so it's an impossible name, but she likes it anyway. She says that could be his show name. My dad wants to call him Murray. I think that names cute, but Apollo still rocks my socks.
I actually kind of want to learn how to ride if Kathryn gets this horse. One time she made me ride Gucci, and Gucci's really big, and I didn't want to ride him, but she insisted that I'd just sit on him and she'd guide him very slowly
on a lead rope. Then all of a sudden she was like
"Hey! Wanna trot?!" And I was terrified, so I kept refusing, but she kept trying to do it. Then I cried. I was already upset that day, though, I'd just written a really bad story, and I kept trying to make it good, but it just wasn't working.
So yeah, good story.
Posted at 01:05 pm by Jackjasmine