Missed Calling

I just saw The Runaways and now I'm feeling like, damn, why am I not a rock star? I know everyone thinks that sometimes, but I actually had the opportunity! I'm musical! If only I hadn't quit piano lessons at 8. I was like, UGH, piano lessons are so LAME, I'd way rather spend my time listening to my Raffi tape and making Fimo clay figurines and writing in my diary about how much I hate my sister.

And then, if only I hadn't quit playing saxophone in the school band when I was 12! I could have started the first all-girl saxophone band! It would have been sick, seriously. But NO, I was like, being in band is LAME, I'd way rather listen to the Backstreet Boys and watch TRL and shoplift makeup from Rite Aid (kidding...or am I?). Was my dad right, that I would regret quitting band? Please say my dad wasn't right.

It's so ironic that playing an instrument is social suicide in middle school, but as an adult playing in a band is basically the coolest thing ever. And even more ironic that the "cool" kids in junior high who think being in band is dorky are now either working at Hooters or coaching football at a junior college somewhere. And the really nerdy smart kids are running companies and peering down at us all from their penthouses. More on junior high later.

Anyway, throughout the movie, there were two women sitting a few seats away who obviously came of age in the 70's, and they were having a ball. Kristen Stewart's Joan Jett impression (which I honestly can't knock as much as I'd like to) was straight up taking them back. They were dancing and singing and clapping in their seats to "I Love Rock and Roll" while all the twenty-somethings gave them side eye. I can't even begin to imagine the crazy memories that movie was stirring up in those women and honestly, I was a little jealous.

I kept thinking, will this be me and my friends when they make the Lady Gaga movie in twenty years? Will we be jamming out in the movie theater when Lady Gaga (played by someone who is not even an embryo yet) steps onto stage to perform "Pokerface" for the first time? Probably. And all the damn kids will be shaking their heads at us with a combination of disgust and sympathy, and we won't give a shit because they have no idea. Their music will probably all be produced and performed by robots programmed to create exactly what the masses will eat up with a spoon. I mean that's where we're heading, right?

Whatever. I'm getting kind of sidetracked. My point is that I could have been a rock star by now, and instead I'm sitting here in sweat pants setting my alarm for 6:45 am. I drive a Civic (a sick motherfucking new Civic that I freaking love, but you get my point). I pay my taxes (I'm the whole package). I budget (poorly). I don't even leave dirty dishes in the sink anymore! If someone doesn't start a band with me ASAP it will be too late!!! I don't remember how to read music or play any instruments, but I'll dance around onstage in leather and pretend to sing! PLEASE!!! My coolness is decreasing by the minute!

*Sigh*

xoxo Jess

The Douche Chronicles, Part II.

First of all, I would like to start off by saying I had an amazing weekend, and I had criminal amounts of fun. While I was having all this fun, I realized something. I completely forgot about an entire category of San Francisco douchey guys! So without further ado, I would like to introduce you to...

4. The Industry Dude



You'll meet this gem at an after-hours rooftop loft party in SOMA (I did). He'll ask you for a light and then strike up a conversation, probably about how bummed he is that he "left his mic at Mighty". Yeah, he's an MC...are you impressed? According to him, you should be, because there are just so few good MC's in this city. (He may also be a bartender...the point is, he is hooked up and has the skinny on the happenin after hours).

After talking to him for about twenty minutes, you may actually think you are having an interesting, meaningful conversation, even though he seems really fucked up and he's asked you the same questions a few times. Then he'll stare into your eyes and say:

"You're really beautiful. You know, I just want someone who I can cuddle with, like, once a week. I rage way too much and I need someone to make me stay in. But just, like, once a week."

Yeah guys...that really happened to me this weekend. As flattered as I was that MC douche wanted to spend one night a week "cuddling" with me, I made my exit soon after. And by "made my exit" I mean grabbed my girl and ran away in the opposite direction of this freak show.

What is my problem?

So I have this dilemma that repeats itself just about every single day, and leads me to believe that I may be borderline obsessive compulsive. My daily (weekday) routine is as follows: wake up to the sound of guitar strumming on my iPhone alarm, shower, makeup, hair, clothes, pack a lunch, and go. Thrilling, I know. As I'm driving to work, though, my heart suddenly seizes and I am filled with panic. I left the iron/straightener/heater/curling iron on! (A lot of heat is involved in being me...pun intended). I have to turn back! My apartment is going to burn down!

I'm usually halfway to work at this point, so I try to calm myself down and remember the EXACT moment in which I unplugged whatever device I am worried about. Usually it works and I can forget about it until sometime midday at which point I reason that if my apartment had burned down I would have gotten a call by then. And (KNOCK ON WOOD...for reals) to this point I have never once left anything plugged in, let alone on. So why am I so worried? It's just weird.

xoxo

Jess

Oh, Pandora

I would just like to make it known that THE CRANBERRIES just played on my Pandora! Remember them? The band you listened to in your flannel shirt and combat boots while mourning Kurt Cobain's death? Remember Elton from Clueless? He loved the Cranberries. Remember how he was sitting in Mr. Hall's class and all of a sudden jumped up and was like "I can't find my Cranberries cd. I gotta go to the quad before anyone snags it." And then when he was trying to seduce Cher in the car he was playing "Away" by the Cranberries and singing to her "Turn away...turn awayyyyy...turn awayyyy."

Anyway, I thought it was noteworthy enough to post about because I literally haven't heard a Cranberries song in years, and all of a sudden, there it was! On MGMT Radio, nonetheless! (If you don't know about Pandora, please educate yourself immediately as it is life-altering and amaze-balls). I know health care reform was signed into law today(with a flourish), and there are really more crucial things I could be updating you about, but at least I can talk about the Cranberries without a bunch of conservatives whining about it. ZING.

Blogging Under the Influence

So. Why is a single, cosmopolitan 24 year old woman with no commitments and an enviable collection of gold jewelry sitting at home watching How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days and blogging on a Friday night? Well friends (all 14 of you! Seriously though, shout out to my readers! I won't forget you when I make it big, promise), this is why: I had SURGERY today!!!

Ok, minor surgery. I got my wisdom teeth out. But they hooked me up to an IV and everything, so it still counts. I don't have much experience with that kind of thing, and I was essentially terrified. When I went in for my consultation and they showed me an informational video about wisdom teeth extraction from 1984, I was so rattled that the oral surgeon suggested I see someone for anxiety issues. Rude. I was convinced that I was going to have a rare reaction to the anesthesia and possibly never wake up, or worse that the numbing shot would wear off and I would wake up mid-surgery like in some horror movie.

So what made me go through with it? Here's the thing...oral surgeons give you these awesome things called DRUGS that fix any problem! Let me preface this by saying that I am really not into taking prescription drugs for fun...no judgement, it's just not my thing. But when you are PRESCRIBED drugs, well...is it so wrong to take advantage of the mind-altering pleasures? Especially if you're someone who generally has a hard time relaxing? Whatever, I don't have to justify this!

So my little adventure began last night with two Valiums (obviously the doctor prescribed me those when I had my little panic attack in his office during the consultation). Voila, within 15 minutes I was feeling relaxed and at ease. Then, two more Valium this morning, an hour before my appointment (breakfast of champions). I showed up in a daze and making dumb jokes...I was like putty in their hands. Then I found out they were hooking me up to an IV, and that was enough to jolt me out of my drugged-out stupor for about half a second (scared of needles too. Yes, I'm a wuss.)

THEN, though, before they hooked me up to the IV, they gave me LAUGHING GAS! Talk about fun...I started cracking up because one of the dental assistants told the other assistant that he got stung by something in one of the examination rooms and his skin was swelling up. Hilarious. The next thing I know, I'm hooked up to an IV and drifting into a wonderful world of Idon'trememberafuckingthing. I was awakened by my uncontrollable hiccups, and the whole thing was already over. Before they sent me off, I believe I asked them for some laughing gas to take home with me. Good thing they said no...and did I really think that would work?

So here I am...sitting on my couch, watching chick flicks that I have seen at least 5 times before, holding ice packs to my face, and stuffing my cheeks with gauze to soak up the blood (disgusting). The party isn't over yet though...I just popped a Vicodin!!! Um, I'm in PAIN HERE PEOPLE...you watch that damn video from the '80s and see for yourself what abuse my mouth has been through today (that's what she said). it's not my fault that the remedy makes me feel like I'm floating on a cloud of zen and nothing in the world will ever bother me again. And causes me to make "that's what she said" jokes.

On a related note...I'm marketing this new diet called the Wisdom Teeth Extraction Diet and it consists solely of chicken broth and Jell-o (and Valium and Vicodin). Don't hate me in four days when I'm skinny AND unbelievably relaxed and happy...the Master Cleanse can suck it.

I'm Only Gonna Break Break Break Break Break Your Heart

While driving to work this morning I heard on the radio that the #1 song in the nation is "Break Your Heart" by Taio Cruz. This gives me pause for a couple reasons. First off, the song sucks. Behold a sample of the lyrics (and if you have never heard it, imagine a techno-infused, high energy pop sound):

Now listen to me baby
Before I love and leave you
They call me heart breaker
I don't wanna deceive you

If you falll for meee
I'm not eaasyy to pleaaase
I might tear you apart
Told you from the start, baby from the start

I'm only gonna break, break, break, break, break your heart
I'm only gonna break, break, break, break, break your heart
I'm only gonna break, break, break, break, break your heart
I'm only gonna break, break, break, break, break your heart

Ok Taio, we get it. You are a bad, bad boy who is going to break our heart. Ladies of the world, look out. Here's the thing, though. I'm not sure if Taio remembers this, but his last single (which was in 2006) was "I Just Wanna Know" and it was basically the spineless little bitch anthem. Take a look:

Baby, talk to me
What's goin on
Lately, we aint been spendin time alone

Last night, when I touched your hand
You didn't wanna hold
Today no kiss goodbye
Just said you had to go

If you're leavin me baby
I just wanna know
I just wanna know

If you're done with me baby
I just wanna know
I just wanna know
I just wanna know
Yeah, yeah, yeah

So what exactly happened to you between now and then, Taio? How did you go from being a clingy, pathetic boyfriend to a "heartbreaker" (and WHO exactly calls you that)? I guess you were burned so badly by that girl in 2006 that you took four years to rebuild your shattered ego, and came back with a vengeance, determined to make every woman pay for the emotional suffering that chick put you through. Typical.

Anyway, Taio's personal life really isn't the topic of this post. My point was that most of the hip hop and r&b I hear these days misses the mark on so many levels, especially the crap that is on the radio and on iTunes "top songs". I mean who is decided what songs are #1? 13 year old girls? (Probably). It just seems to me that hip hop and r&b was at its best in the late 1990's and early 2000's. A few examples of great songs that provided the soundtrack to my young life:

Jon B. "Don't Say"-1997



This is a classic break-up song...Taio Cruz take note. Jon B is being played for sure, but he is fully aware of what is going on, and he's putting his foot down. He's done.

I know you mean well
Bvt lookin at you one can tell
You got changes to make
Cause the way you treat me girl just ain't right

Alway's frontin' on someone
But never think about the damage you've done
to meeeeeeee
And it's about damn time I talk about it

Every time I do for you
You turn around and make me feel like a fool
With your actions, so much for the words
Baby I love youuuu, yes

But now I've wised up girl
It's time for meeee to go
You better think about it
Cause I'm here to let you know...

This song reminds me of my sophomore year of high school, when I went through my first "real"break up. Now this guy had once told me that if we ever broke up he would be so depressed that he would join the air force (I guess that's why people join the air force), but now we were broken up and he WASN'T joining the air force. No, he was taking some other girl to prom instead of me (a girl who, coincidentally went on to become Miss California...congrats!) Shortly after this all went down, I was at my best friend's house listening to this song, and I suddenly became overwhelmed with emotion and ran out the house and down the block, where she discovered me crying on her neighbors lawn. Yeah. Jon B will do that to you.

Mac Mall "Wide Open"-2000



This gem was brought to my attention courtesy of my second high school boyfriend, who was from the Bay Area and thus knew about Bay Area rap. He said that this song explained how he felt about me (I'm not kidding).

You think I'm runnin drag, but I ain't even mad
I bet you all my cash I'll be the realest that ya had
I wanna treat you lav, but you can't see that half
I'm tryin to keep you smilin if you just give me a chance

At times you make me laugh, you got me wide open
You think it's all a front, swear you ain't even knowin
If I was runnin drama on ya
I woulda been in the wind baby hittin corners

Instead I'm standin right beside you like ya know I'm 'posed to
Keepin composure, while most fools be in your face just tryin to get over
I see you know my style, me and my mob is wild
I hear your friends say I'm not trustworthy

But if you wait a while, I'll shut that madness down
Prove to you once and for all that I'm deservin
Of your heart, your mind, your soul, your body your time
If its cool boo, just give me a sign...

Yeah. Well maybe Mac Mall WAS deservin, but Max sure as hell wasn't. My friends were right when they said he wasn't trustworthy. Still a great song though.

Celly Cel "It's Goin Down"-1996



More Bay Area gold. I discovered this one in college even though it had been out for quite a while by then. If this isn't the song you bump in your Honda Civic on your way to the 18 and over club, then I don't know what is. Listening to it right now makes me want ride out, and its a damn Tuesday.

It's goin down so majorly my pager battery stay on low cells
While I'm tryin ta get some more mail
Dodgin' hot ones, makin liquor store runs
Creepin through the city streets
Pervin in the Mo 1
Can't get wrapped up in that 'he said, she said'
What was said'll leave ya dead
Runnin your mouth will get you filled with lead
So I stay real
Soakin that game outta the hills
Ridin with that Mazda sound
Now you know its goin down

Well...I can't pretend I know exactly what Celly is talking about for the majority of this one (what Mazda sound?), but whatever it is, I'm sure I agree.

Those are just a few examples...there was also En Vogue, Ginuwine, Blackstreet, Mase (before he became corny), etc. Even the BAD music was good...3LW anyone? I mean...why does everyone SUCK now? Has everything just been done before?

And what about the children...won't someone think of the children? Are 16 year old girls today listening to JUSTIN BIEBER when they get dumped? KE$HA to get pumped up for a night out? Probably so. Wait a minute...am I getting old? I'm getting fucking old! I'm that person, who is like "Kids these days...they don't know what good music is!"

Wow...I guess I'm gonna go listen to some Ke$ha and try to stay relevant.

xoxo

Jess

San Francisco

I'm happy to report that my emo depressed phase has passed. Whiny and negative is not a good look on anyone, but especially not me...I prefer bitchy and awesome and I'm sure you do too. It's pretty ironic, because I kept talking about how things weren't exactly "sunshine and rainbows", and then on my drive home I saw a DOUBLE rainbow over the Golden Gate Bridge, which is really a sight to behold if you have never seen it. It was nature's way of telling me to STFU and stop complaining.

That brings me to my topic of today: San Francisco. The city I've lived in for the past three years (prior to that I was across the bay in Oakland, which is a whole different story). Here's the thing about San Francisco. I love this city to death, but I'm not really sure why. It's freezing for most of the year, including Summer (which brings us back to my aforementioned scarf addiction). The freeway system is incredibly annoying and inconvenient as it forces you to drive THROUGH the entire city in order to get from one side to the other. Rent is an abomination. Parking is impossible.

And the people here? Well...there are some awesome people, it's true (me). But in order to find them, you have to sift through quite a few NON-awesome people. Take dating for example (warning: stereotypes ahead!). There are three general types of men in San Francisco, defined by the neighborhood in which they live/hang out. Every girl in SF is already familiar with these types. Hybrids can be found, but its so much more fun to mock the purebreds.

1. The Marina Douche



Don't let his preppy good looks fool you...he is a total douche. He resides in the squeaky-clean Marina district, and on a Saturday night he can be found at Circa or Bluelight having a brewski with his bros and freak-dancing with hotties to top 40 hits, in the requisite "Marina boy shirt" pictured above. His pick up line will most certainly be a "neg"...if you aren't familiar with The Game (as any single woman should be), the "neg" is when a man throws a subtle insult concealed as a compliment your way in order to get your attention. Example: "You're the creme de la creme of the bar tonight. Too bad I'm not interested." Yes, some douche really said that to me once.

2. The SOMA Suit


This specimen can be found in the trendy South Of Market district enjoying a jack and coke or a gin and tonic with his business partners/wingmen during happy hour, probably at Harlot or Ducca. He proudly dons his suit well into the night, not because he didn't have time to change but because it is a symbol of his great success and chicks totally dig it. Even if he weren't wearing the suit, you would know how important he is because every five minutes he whips out his blackberry...he is closing a deal so it's not rude. He will buy your drinks for you (always a plus), but in return you'll have to listen to him drone on about his boring job and pretend to be impressed. He'll leave you with his card but by then you'll be so over it that this next guy will seem like a catch.

3. The Mission Hipster




When San Francisco women are tired of dealing with Marina Douches and SOMA Suits, we head to the grimy but cool Mission district. When I say this place is cool, I mean too cool. Too cool for you. If you ARE lucky enough to strike up a conversation with the elusive hipster male at Zeitgeist or Elbo Room (dive bars we are supposed to like for some reason), make sure you're up on your indie bands and don't roll your eyes when he tells you how he quit his job selling motorcycles to work at Peet's coffee because it all just got to be too much (another gem borrowed from actual life experiences). At the very least, admire his tattoos...they probably signify a really deep anti-establishment message that you are too naive to understand. The sad truth about the Mission Hipster is that he is just another douche trying to seem "different", but he'll pull all the same douche moves that the Marina boys do.

Yeah. That's what we're working with. Oh, and don't try to stereotype ME...I live in the Outer Richmond. Ha. On a serious note though, as cold and filled with d-bags this city is, I can't imagine living anywhere else at this point in my life. Here's why:



Ocean Beach...now a ten minute walk away from mi casa.





Power to the Peaceful Concert every Sept. 11 with Michael Franti in Golden Gate Park!!!





The way the skyline makes me feel at night. Especially if I'm going out that night.



The bacon dog cart in the Mission. Enough said.


So there you have it. Every city has its pros and cons but SF (please don't call it "Frisco") has my heart. Even before I lived here, something about the air always made me feel at home. I would date 1,000 Marina Douches before I left this place.

xoxoxo

Jess

Emo

I like to think of myself as a generally positive person, but there are some days, like today, when I just want to throw in the damn towel. Things haven't been sunshine and rainbows lately (neither literally and figuratively) so I'm allowing myself another week or so of this before I prescribe myself some happy pills. I guess by then I'll be on Vicodin because I'm getting my wisdom teeth out, so it won't matter either way. Though in the words of Lady Antebellum (CAN'T believe I'm quoting them right now): "guess I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all."

That was dramatic. I know. It's just that it's Monday and I was planning on starting fresh this week with the positive attitude and spiritual well-being and I was even going to meditate but today has turned out to be a painfully slow work day, and its HAILING outside, and every time I try to drink out of my environmentally-friendly steel water bottle I dump water down my shirt. WTF???!!!!!

Also, an update on the living alone situation. I still love my apartment, but it has been SO FRUSTRATING trying to move, put together furniture, hang pictures, all that crap by myself. I already scratched the wall trying to balance on a stool while hanging a 50 pound painting on two tiny, unevenly hung picture hooks (it worked at my old place, ok???). I also managed to knock over a huge, ceramic plant pot and dent the beautiful hardwood floor. Oh, and there is a loud popping noise in the vent above my stove every time there is a storm, which is pretty often these days. Cool.

You know what? I was about to wrap this up with a cutesy little note about how even though things have been challenging, it's ok because my friends are amazing (which they ARE, don't get me wrong) and everything always works out for the best, and I am probably just PMSing (correct), BUT...I'm not even going to. It was pointed out to me recently how people have a tendency to conclude their writing in an annoyingly positive, starry-eyed, cherry-on-top, all's well that ends well sort of way and I am not in the mood for that shit.

This doesn't mean I accept defeat though, bitches...I'll be back.