Potent Quotables

"A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife."

--Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar (pretend that's underlined).

What quotes linger in your mind?

I Just Re-Wrote the Rules to Blog-Tag

Good Ol' Kelly of http://kradsrag.blogspot.com has "tagged" me, which means I am now to share ten fascinating facts about myself. I never back down from a challenge, Kelly, so I will list five items, and then leave the last five blank so that ALL who read it [This means you, dear reader.] may* post something quirky, unique, or extraordinary about themselves, be it on my comment page, on One's own blog, in a letter to a friend, or in a Letter to the Editor of the newspaper of One's choosing. It seems I just changed the game from Blog-Tag, to Blog-Sharks-and-Minnows. What next from unpredictable me?!
*The use of the word "may" in this case, lends itself to a more steely "is required to".

Five Facts Fascinating:

1. I find the smell of geraniums revolting. The fact is, geraniums really do smell horribly, it's just that nobody wants to admit it because we all have someone in our lives (ie, Mom, Grandma, Auntie) who love, love, loves, geraniums. Well, I'm putting it out there: they stink. (Sorry Mom).

2. My friend Rachel hates fruit pies. (I rather like fruit pies, but I needed something to spice this fact up because "Four Facts Fascinating and One Fact Tepid" is a lame title to this list.) Thanks to Rachel for her contribution to this fascinating fact about me!

3. I've been know to invent new words and use them teauvalenscently in casual, or even prulient conversation. I know, it's so caldezon!

4. Rumors continue to circulate that Tom Selleck is my biological father.

5. I have two sisters and it just so happens that one sister hates the feeling/touch of velvet. She will NOT touch it or be the object of its touch for any reason whatsoever. My exploitation of this knowledge rendered me the nickname "Jennifart". My other sister is very sweet and kind.

6.
7.
8.
9.
10.

Surprise! I wrote something.

As many of you know, I lost the use of my fingers several months ago and have therefore been unable to tend to my loving web log. Thank you for your well-wishes and what-have-yous; they have touched me deeply. I'm not one to complain, so if you weren't aware of this life-changing tragedy, don't beat yourself up about it. Just know that those snide little remarks you made about my lack of blogging the last few months have been wiped off the slate. I forgive you. Actually, I really appreciate you saying something about the blog (lack of) because it shows me that you care, and that you still check the blog. I sincerely thank both of you.

Lately, I've been scanning the SkyMall catalog and have been enjoying the Marketing Captions that accompany the 'must-have items' that can be found nowhere else, save in the SkyMall Catalog. I don't have my MBA or my PhD or my BLT, but Im pretty sure the CEO's of SkyMall are banking on the scientific likelihood that "People lose logic and the ability to reason at 30,000 ft above sea level."* Thus, no need to work hard (or at all) at marketing. Examples of this are abundant within the pages of the catalog; for example: "Everyone loves the Claw Machine!", is a caption hovering over a picture of one of those machines with the poor derelict stuffed animals and crappy wristwatches piled helplessly under the ominous silver claw that secretly suffers from arthritis and can't grasp anything unless it eats at least six dollars worth of quarters. Well, at 30,000 ft above sea level when I'm praying for some ginger cookies and a splash of Sprite over a gigantic cumbersome piece of ice with a hole in the middle of it, you are darn-tootin' that I'm thinking, "Yes! Everybody DOES love those crazy funny whimsical machines! I love them! I need one in my own home as soon as possible!" Thank God cell phone use is NOT allowed during the flight.

That's enough food for thought...for now. I plan to continue my exploration of SkyMall marketing phenomena (as long as my fingers hold up) via my beloved web log. Your comments are welcome, and if you want to play with my claw machine, come on over! Bring some quarters.



*footnote: This might actually be a scientific fact, so maybe don't scoff so loudly.

Tragic, but I want you to prepare yourself:

http://www.theonion.com/content/news/myspace_outage_leaves_millions


http://www.theonion.com/content/news/dog_breeders_issue_massive_recall

HEADLINE NEWS

I get a big kick out of finding funny headlines. I get a bigger kick out of making them up myself (see previous blog). Here are some that I found notable, thanks to Ananova:


Ananova: Quirkies : gaffes
Driver loses licence after drink with instructorA driving student lost her licence three hours after passing her test after going for a drink with her instructor to celebrate. 10:40 Friday 11th May 2007

MP's graffiti crusade backfiresAn Australian MP's anti-graffiti crusade backfired when he spent five hours scrubbing off a specially commissioned piece of street art. 09:08 Friday 20th April 2007

Free repairs to flammable toiletsJapan's leading toilet manufacturer is offering free repairs to 180,000 toilets after some of them caught fire. 15:15 Monday 16th April 2007

News Brief

Drunk Person Gives Advice to Anyone There.

Local drunk and self-proclaimed shell-of-a-man, Edwin Crodd made his views on life available to the public today at no cost or consequence. Spewing his opinions on whatever subjects he could form on his lips, Crodd had this to say that was decipherable:

"There's no pot of gold at the end of the Rainbow. There's only these pants, over and over and over."

"You know how Mel Gibson made his money? He told us how Jesus died. Goodbye."

"Roger needed a good slap in the face. So I gave him one. That's right I hit the man. Where did I put my thirty eggs?"

These invaluable nuggets of wisdom were all we had time for before Crodd caught his cab to go sober up.

I walk the line

I recently lost a bowl of soup. Really good soup. I had it in a tupperware container and was transporting it to my home to eat at my leisure, but it never showed up. I showed up, but the soup was lost along the way somewhere. This raises the question: where's the crazy line, and have I crossed it? (It's a rhetorical question, so stop formulating sassy comments.) Secondly, I'm posting this in solidarity with my pal Tif(f), who recently lost a pair of shoe soles. [tiffanyinlouisville.blogspot.com] My hope for Tif(f) is that the soles will eventually emerge from hiding and be graciously welcomed back to their shoes, just like the Prodigal Son in that after-school special they played on TV in the 80's. Those were really good shows with valuable life lessons, and they were probably based on true-life events. As for my soup, I'm chalking that up to a valuable life lesson too, that being: some experiences are proof that paranormal phantasma do exist, and have probably ripped a teensy hole in the fabric of space-time, and have stolen my soup.

The etymology of Rest Break

"If only there were a way for me to entertain my friends en masse via media accessible to any and all who wish to read. If only there were a way..."

-Jensy, March 2007

Rest Break is a term endeared to me by my first lifeguarding job at The Splash Club.*
Rest Break: a 10 minute period of rest deamed necessary for all swimmers, under 18 years of age, every hour on the hour by the lifeguards (and really, for the lifeguards, in order to goof off). The verbal expression, "Rest Break!" is commonly pronounced with force and volume. It is at times pronounced curtly, like a bark; sometimes it is drawn out with vocal modulation. This all depends on personal style and mood [pause from reading here and practice to hone in your personal style]. Henceforth, Rest Break has developed from a mere phrase to a practice, a method, an ethos, a way of life. Provocative, isn't it? Arcane in it's true origins, Rest Break is has been adopted as a reason for you, the reader, to take a break from your swimming to dry off, maybe grab a snack, and laugh with friends. Then, back in the water...

*As the name suggests, The Splash Club is more than your average outdoor pool located on the outskirts of a small town in Indiana. This pool was one of the last to maintain a High Dive higher than the depth of the pool. Sadly, the high dive has been removed, due to Regulatory Safety Laws but the memory lives on. The pool has also since changed names, but is still known as such by all who love it. Sometimes we just call it The Splish.