That was the best I could do

Jellyfish are neither jelly nor fish. Jellyfish lack backbones, heart, blood, brain, or gills and, in fact, are over 95% water.

Sorry. Thank you. But that painting now suits you. You have a nice day, too.

A lovely evening was spent sitting in a comfy leather chair and listening to some telecommando jams and giggling about bachelor scenarios.

Despite trying to function on 3 hrs of sleep, Gus' was great fun.

Except a few awkward moments:

me: I wouldn't dance with that old man-does that make me mean?
alfred: shurg
me: meh. *So I wouldn't patronize a complete (and drunken) stranger. I guess because of me an angel won't get it's wings and all the orphan kittens of the world will die a bloody, painful and ...useless (yes that's terrible) death.Evil. Evil. Me. OH I CAN"T TAKE ITTTTT!*

I'm not pointing a finger at you alfie. Just standing up for those of us who turn down the token old guy. ps-Great show tonight!

h: look at those 2 guys who came in-that one's cute-!
me: he's with my chemistry teacher from high school.

Yah. You know, the 'young' teacher who wanted to be your friend but then would breakdown -while in the middle of explaining about delta change in something something- about how his girlfriend took off with his friend and sold the gifts he gave her to finance her new beau's xmas present- a watch.

Show tomorrow-wait, today. Should be ahem, cough good. Good times.

See you there.

Matching games

When I leave the studio I either feel really buzzed with energy or absolutely exhausted. I feel both tonight. Eye twtich is back. But I'm very focused. I have tunnel vision and I think it's the best thing ever. I used to feel this way when I was doing my degree and I'd be immersed in stacks of books about one single subject for hours by myself and even when I would emerge and enter the 'real world'aka grocery store or street it was as if I were still reading a book.

Sam made a very comical suggestion that I should release a cd consisting of 10 songs each named after men. Each song would consist of one or maybe 2 lines of lyrics that would be screamed over and over- ranging from:

'STOP Hitting on me!!!!!!!!!'
'Why wouldn't you just fuck me?!'
'You are shallow and wrong!!!!!!!!!!!!!'
'You're a genuis and I love your genius-why won't you talk to me!!!!!!"

And so on. But the interesting part is that I wouldn't match up the names with songs. It would be one of those draw a line to match games and if you drew the lines correctly you would end up with some sort of geometrical shape. I think she could be onto something. It's sort of conceptual.

Haley gave me some tunes she's been working on and they are fucking fantastic- bjork portishead trip-hoppy.

Fight me!/ I crave certainty!

Who is coming? It's a busy night, I know. But new surprises. And A/V!!!
Who can resist?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Back to the future

Finally, my computer is fixed and I'm back a la internet. That was only half the problem though. Mr. Aliant got a nasty surprise of dead basement rat. Apparently, a rat chrewed through the cable. Nice. Luckily, Mr. Aliant took the liberty of informing me of both the stench and dimensions of the rat. Thank you for that. It didn't really bother me, I do live near the waterfront in an old building- plus I live 3 floors up.

But, check out this guy:


I was honoured to be a part of Epworth's cd release Saturday night. Epworth is the most talented mutherfucker in this city- and still so kind and humble. I love having him as part-time drummer. I'm lucky. Show of the year- the crowd and energy were amazing.

It was a busy evening. I went out to dinner with c at Curry Village. We used to go there every week. It's been a few months now. The owner always recognizes us and talks to us. He asked

My goodness, it's been so long! Where have you been??
c: Out of the country
...This of course was a complete lie.

Later, I stopped by the Hippie party in my non-hippie couture dress (by David Fielden of London-probably my most favorite find ever), met some lovely people, saw my lovely northwood terrace ladies and had my usual 'jen's going nuts and dropping the f' bomb like crazy' convo and gigglefest with dave.

By the time I made it back to the Attic I would consider myself mildly drunk. Dinner had left me a bit emo and I kept to myself. BUT I had a hilarious time hanging out with Haley. We laughed about things, *secret things*. By the time we had cracked into the free wine and it was time to hit the stage, I think it's safe to say we were very very drunk. By the time the show was over and the 'jager lady' came with free tumblers (not shots) of jager it was pretty much gameover. I called a cab to go home and then Brad called me to head to a party. I should have went home. But instead I had the fucking craziest cab ride ever including 2 drunk domers who jumped in my cab and a lunatic driver. The money they had given me to cover their fare was a ripped 10$ bill and the cabbie was flipping. Not fun. But I made it home in one piece eventually. Lately, I keep having these lessons and moments about independence- this was just another one of those. When it comes down to it, sometimes the only person to look out for you is... yourself. That's fucking deep. Not really, it's simple. But it's something that I'd forgot for awhile. There you go, stupid, thought of the day.

Nothing but love

Look at Brad; precious Brad! How could I possibly verbally abuse him?

Apparently, quite easily- so I've been told.


After receiving some shockingly candid feedback, I took a poll:

True or false: Am I (/do I come off as) too mean to my band [on stage]?

I was surprised again by the results, but I guess the positive verdict was delivered by people who (mostly) aren't aware of my peculiar sense of humour.

Then, (as usual) I tried to devise a gender-related hypothesis regarding the acceptability of crass humour used by females.

But then I also realized-I'm a jerk.

I love my boys. They've been roommates, brothers. But they call me Ron for goddsakes. They make fun of me and I make fun of them. Get over it.

The great thing about Grandparents/Boyfree weekend and fucking loving it

Being the baby of the family, in the eyes of my grandparents I will never grow up. I am innocent and pleasant and lovely.
I arrived at their house last night, hungover as fuck, weary from a week of self-induced insomnia. A plush rabbit, chocolates and lemon pie awaited me.

Nanny: Oh, Jennifer, darling- you look tired!!

what I said: Oh Nanny, I'm fine, it was just a long bus ride.

what I thought: 'Insomniac' is my chosen lifestyle of the week. Last night, I got really fucked up and played a show. The night before, I was asked to marry and be the mother of c's children *insert mindfuck here*. In general, I've spent the week drinking heavily, not sleeping and alienating people, while seeking attention from those who treat me badly. It's pretty cool.

Nanny: Oh, hunny, take off your scarf.

what I said: Oh, I'm ok, Nanny. I've got a bit of a chill.

what I thought: No, I can't. I have a hickey from my emotionally-invalid other exboyfriend which he gave me at 5 am (2 hours after he dissed me in front of several people)this morning- after admitting that he thinks his soulmate is another man. It's pretty fuckin cool.

But it's ok. Life's not supposed to make sense.
Favorite thing about this week= post Bearly's. You people ( you know who you are) are the reason that I still have some sanity (Baa daa ba-ba-ba daaaa).

Rural Easter. Cows. Baby cows too. Peepers. Ocean air. I'll stop before Julia gets too jealous.
I found a miu miu top at frenchies (yes!) and then spent the day at my cottage. Peace. No boys. No phone calls. Lots of great food. Sunshine. Absolutely totally loving that I'm not going anywhere or seeing anyone this weekend.

I love...

...being woken up by a hungover Savannah telephone call. Raunchy laughter is the best way to start your day.

Saddest bunch of 20-somethings that I've ever seen!

Jen gets EMO'ED!!!!!!!!!!This doesn't happen often, does it? But I'll be honest about what's going on because I don't like broadcasting this type of shit in person, but on the internet it's such a great idea!!!!!! (joking).

It's been 2 months, 2 break ups and I'm not a happy camper about it.

Not that I wasen't anticipating this, but... ok, maybe I wasen't.

Last week, at the Feast of Beardo, I was icing a cake very drunkenly with 2 very talented and creative gals, and one said,

Happiness isn't good for our art. But I guess, it's good...for,like, you.

And we all laughed. It was candid, and it was true.

Nearly a week and breakup #2 later, Friday night I said to my lovely south end affiliates (brent jer jonnyb, chris is a former member): Fuck this, I'm not going to sleep for 3 days and write songs- passing out doesn't count. I'll let you know what happens.

3 days of with a meagre 7 hours sleep, and 3 songs later, I realize how creatively productive break ups can be.Yesterday, Dave stopped over with my daily chocolate dose. I was surrounded by cds and perched in my fort of keyboard and kstation, L Shape. It was 4:30 and I hadn't eaten or gotten dressed. But I did have 2 more songs.
I went for coffee with the B-rent. We had a great time swapping shitty stories, ending each one with a shrug and a It happens! and laughter.

I would like to thank all my darling friends who have put up with sullen Jen for the past few days-especially at Melissa's bday Saturday night. It may have not seemed like it, but I did have a really good time. Beardo and Dave rock opera=best thing ever. A great Spincylce performance at One World was dope as well. I like being complimented on my style too. To everyone at Hell's Kitchen who put up with drunken raving lunatic Jen- all the hugs, threats of fake violence and rumours I should start truly warmed the cockles of my heart. Heather, I'm glad to have you faciliate my sex game plan, even though I told you that I'm never dating in Halifax again. I'm happy that I have such lover-ly people around me, several -including but certainly not limited to MY MOM.

But that's really besides the point, now isn't it?

The day Andrew is finished exams we will go into intensive pre-recording/recording session. I am beyond stoked.

G turns to D/ CALL YR MOM

Yesterday G turned to D*, so to speak. But some people don't deserve any credit, or even an edit.

Thursday was one of those nights that make me wonder... "Gee, what if I had just decided to stay home." I didn't. As if Halifax doesn't have enough shitty theatrics-costumes, honey, dancing. Hippy central. Twee. God. That was shitty. Thankfully, Laura was awesome, as usual, and I think she was the only reason I did not have an aneurysm. Due to rage.

Inspired by the events that followed, I wrote a song. Not sure if I will call it Sissy Lollipop or CALL YR MOM. I think it's the best song I've ever written.

When it was all over, it was Friday. Dean Malenkos. Excellent. Everything was excellent.

Got your email CMAN. Thank you. I will write soon!

I'm sick, don't expect this to be good

I said to Dale at the Feast of Beardo:

This is like a science experiment- maybe party will cure me of my ailments.


No. Not so much. I've done nothing but sleep for the past 3 days, and it felt good.


Delerious, I watched a British soap:

We'll aye say! I'll never figure out why men can't ever stay the same as when aye first met'em

I laughed for 5 minutes, had a profound moment of realization and then passed out in a nyquil induced sleep for another 12 hours.

New songs, new songs are commin round the mountain.