tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56501712012-01-16T14:51:58.815-05:00often ignored but still dear to my heartJessicanoreply@blogger.comBlogger2561100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-70973791044264407762009-09-07T12:33:00.001-04:002009-09-07T12:34:25.847-04:00

The end of summer has come. It's not really a time of total change for me at this point, since I'm a working woman now, but a lot of people around me are going to school either as faculty, staff or students, and the weather has already cooled a few degrees--rather suddenly, so it may soar up again at some point--I still feel a little stirring within.Autumn in Virginia is idyllic. The air is cool,

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-13944577594246368062009-03-14T11:33:00.004-04:002009-03-14T12:28:53.704-04:00

This may as well be a ridiculous post--I think my avoidance of this blog has to do with my fear of sounding ridiculous (and probably some laziness as well).I've been thinking about how uncaring life is--not necessarily a new thought to the human race. Life seems not to care about one's situation and needs. If you get dumped, life screams past. If you are bypassed by a job opportunity, life

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-20320367811233054782008-07-27T14:52:00.004-04:002008-07-27T16:04:37.364-04:00

I'm sitting beneath a ceiling fan and looking outside into the heat of the day. It's been one of the hottest in awhile: 86 Fahrenheit, which isn't too hot comparatively. This whole weekend I've been staying inside with fans or out under my canopy of trees that nearly covers the extent of my backyard (a very small one, mind you). Right now I'm watching the trees and houses that block my view of

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-42035463035999519342008-05-31T15:37:00.004-04:002008-05-31T16:27:31.116-04:00

Today Tom and I went on a bus ride to the most saddest of places: the Harrisonburg Valley Mall.Actually, we were out there to buy spices from an Indian Food shop, but since the bus only comes every hour, we had to wait somewhere--and somewhere cool, because it was crazy humid. So, we went, cruised the stores full of stuff no one really needed but somehow I felt the need to buy anyway. I know, I

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-74893399966080392002008-05-03T17:46:00.003-04:002008-05-03T18:24:03.564-04:00

It's only these last few years that I've really gotten a sense of place. The stories I sent in for grad school attempted to have stories that were good but have no place in particular to ground them in. I realized at Sarah Lawrence that exactly the opposite is needed to really engage the reader. I think it's a bit funny that now all my writing (on this blog and otherwise) depends on the place,

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-91526774801575237002008-04-30T17:08:00.000-04:002008-04-30T17:08:58.355-04:00

I believe I may be a plant killer. Some plants that more or less survived my awkward care in New York have lost their green. I'm unsure why. I suppose it has to do with simple sunlight. In our old place, there was a lot of sunlight because we had a huge picture window. Now, I have always hated picture windows, mostly because they are in those horrible ranch houses that line the streets of so

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-20074009736211067402008-04-19T22:51:00.001-04:002008-04-19T22:51:30.176-04:00

For the past few days I've been missing New York a lot.I don't know where this came from. I mean, I always miss New York, but in a much more controlled way. Maybe it's the spring warmth. It's nice and warm here in spurts, and I'm thinking about how New York really becomes New Yorkish in summer. Summer in New York is really disgusting in a lot of ways. It is no wonder that people who had the

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-10072838430340199282008-03-11T12:19:00.002-04:002008-03-11T12:26:44.846-04:00

Well, there's some scuttlebut in Albany. If you don't already know, the governor of New York, Elliot Spitzer, has been caught trying to procure a lady of the night in DC. My first verbal reaction was: What the fuck? I think a lot of people had the same reaction. In his bid for governor, Spitzer promised change and a new way of thinking, etc. I and 70% (according to NPR) of New York State was

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-23283075676737652822008-02-15T23:38:00.002-05:002008-02-15T23:56:24.635-05:00

I really miss New York.Tonight I've been a little down for various reasons. One of which is the above statement. I guess it's because Tom is moving down here tomorrow. I'm glad that he's coming, obviously. More than glad. But it also means my connection with New York has closed for good.I thought I'd cheer myself up by watching Woody Allen's "Manhattan," but it only made me feel worse.

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-85510755041217787272008-02-09T18:03:00.000-05:002008-02-09T18:47:26.290-05:00

Much has happened since the last time I graced your computer screens. The single major thing is that I've moved back to Harrisonburg, VA, the home of my alma mater, Eastern Mennonite University. How this came to pass is both long and boring. Basically, a job I'd applied for at Rosetta Stone (a language learning software company), a year ago (and was turned down) opened again back in December.

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-84924658500538783482007-08-10T15:42:00.000-04:002007-08-10T16:09:56.938-04:00

As usual, I haven't blogged for quite some time. So, I thought I'd make an appearance.Last week, Tom and I went to Kansas to visit my parents. It was a nice visit. We basically did nothing the whole time--and it was a good thing. After the last few months of craziness, we were ready for the quiet streets, Sonic runs, lazing by the lake and strawberry rhubarb pie. The one thing about this trip

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-47756334930088008192007-07-05T10:49:00.000-04:002007-07-05T11:12:17.721-04:00

For the first time in the five years we have lived in the Greatest City in the World, Tom and I braved the crowd and stood by the East River to watch the Macy's fireworks.Not that we hadn't seen them before. In other years we used to climb to the roof of Menno House. After we moved away from that realm, we were a little anti-fireworks, so we went to an empty bar (I had a stiff margarita) and

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-35888460063030601462007-06-23T11:52:00.000-04:002007-06-23T12:39:31.321-04:00

I'm in a weird mood today. I feel really awake for the first time in a week, and as I sat waiting for the water to boil, everything seemed clearer, sharper than usual.Part of this may be one or all of three things:I've finally had a decent night's sleepI finally am wearing my contacts after being forced into glasses from all the pollenI'm listening to Nick Drake--who can't feel weird listening to

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-13765208103420097642007-05-18T11:55:00.000-04:002007-05-20T23:09:12.778-04:00

I met a traveller from an antique landWho said:—Two vast and trunkless legs of stoneStand in the desert. Near them on the sand,Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frownAnd wrinkled lip and sneer of cold commandTell that its sculptor well those passions readWhich yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.And on the pedestal these words

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-51241635263737803072007-03-26T14:37:00.000-04:002007-03-26T14:53:43.493-04:00

Tom discovered something that is hard to find, even in New York: kosher Coca-Cola. It has sugar in it (no fructose whatever it's called), for observant Jews during Passover. He found it on the West Side and brought home a 2-litre bottle. (You know it's kosher from the yellow cap.) He tried to find cans, to no avail. We opened it the other night to try it: it's very sweet and thick. The aftertaste

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-30093900415229747082007-03-25T18:51:00.000-04:002007-03-25T19:09:41.071-04:00

Last night after a long afternoon of grading quizzes and essays, I went to a little Karaoke party on 3rd and 27th. It was a good deal: you get an endless supply of beer, wine or sake; sushi and other appetizers for a fixed price and two hours of Karaoke-ing in a private room. The sake was watered down (which explained why they set a whole liter on the table), but it was fairly decent as was the

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-82431079058250195202007-03-07T11:40:00.000-05:002007-03-07T11:42:00.275-05:00

Note: I wrote this blog some time ago. I don't know why I never posted it.I've spent almost six hours in the last two days in two different coffee houses. (I spent yesterday grading 30 finals and today calculating the final grades.) One on Irving called 71 and the other on 14th St called Gregory's Coffee. You sit by real imbeciles, by and large. Yesterday, I got what is usually a primo spot in

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-81930004877720419762007-03-07T10:39:00.000-05:002007-03-07T11:09:05.185-05:00

After my rather snobby bit about cars vs. public transportation, I was hit by a rather annoying story as far as public transportation goes:I left for work, as usual, at 9:30 a.m. I don't have class until 11:30 but you never know when you'll get to Flushing because the 7 (the only way there, unless you take a bus) is notoriously slow, so I leave two hours before every day. I got to Times Square

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-51734624619461014372007-03-05T10:54:00.000-05:002007-03-05T11:18:10.308-05:00

I was talking to a friend the other day, and she chided me for not updating this blog since late January. I feel bad about this, but it couldn't be helped. My life has been crazy these last few weeks. I went from having no employment to teaching three language classes because other teachers left mid-semester. I hate taking over classes, especially since I'm doing it rather blindly. I've only

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-30433472810264886002007-01-25T11:40:00.000-05:002007-01-25T12:02:02.620-05:00

Another brief but vivid dream came to me last night:I found myself in a store that sold both used/damaged housewares (pillows, sheets, etc.) and used books. I sat in front of this huge bookshelf inhabited by both red-stained pillows and equally stained (and worn to the fringes) books. I filled an old backpack--one I used to use in college--with books and pillows. Everything I touched grew a

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-83115089811353161182007-01-22T16:28:00.000-05:002007-01-22T16:59:45.295-05:00

There are ads that paper the subway car walls. These ads sell everything from cosmetic surgery to beer (there's one beer ad that says "It's always worth it in New York"--which I don't get, really). The ones that make my day are ads for Poetry in Motion, a book that has poems with imagery of movement. Each ad has a little gem of a poem for the strap hangers to read. I saw one today that made me

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-85933883846603226872007-01-12T15:05:00.000-05:002007-01-12T15:06:40.717-05:00

I just woke up from a dream that is one of the weirder ones I've had in awhile.I dreamed I was riding the 2 or 3 train and had to connect with the Q train. At some unknown station I saw the Q on the other track, so I got off, only to see the Q's doors close and feel the wind as it left. Now, this Q that had just departed was only a two car train. And I had never seen this station before. It was

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1167876492870498882007-01-10T20:58:00.000-05:002007-01-10T20:17:07.535-05:00

Tom, David and I walked the full-length of Central Park last week. It was a nice way to look at New York, or the New York that hides New York, if that makes any sense. The park starts (or ends, depending on your perspective) at 110th Street and goes until 57th. We started at 110th and wended our way down, passing Onassis Reservoir, the conservatory--and my favorite, the statue of the Angel of the

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1166903596891680302006-12-23T14:47:00.000-05:002006-12-23T14:53:16.903-05:00

I feel vindicated at last by the New York Times!

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1166804997531190952006-12-22T11:19:00.000-05:002006-12-22T12:13:39.503-05:00

If any of you have read The Secret Garden at some point in life (and if you haven't you should immediately), you'll remember the moment when Mary asks her hunch-backed uncle: Might I have a bit of earth?I thought of this as the airplane I rode circled around New York before landing in LaGuardia some time ago. (It was at night--the only time to arrive in this place by plane.) New York is so tiny!

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1166544113227058392006-12-19T10:39:00.000-05:002006-12-19T11:01:53.240-05:00

I had my first New York reading--of my fiction--on Friday night, at the Lucky Cat in Williamsburg. I think it went really well. After much agonizing and a flurry of editing, I managed to get a piece of a story that filled the 12 minute slot.Not that some of my co-readers tried to do the same.One chick took at least 12 minutes preaching to us about the facts that had 'inspired' her to write her (

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1165942452134860772006-12-12T11:46:00.000-05:002006-12-12T11:54:12.146-05:00

A student recently gave me what I think is a great compliment: Class seems to go so fast when you are here. The class before this one seems so long.Is it more than an hour and a half? I said.No, it's the same. It just feels longer than yours.I thanked her. She practically skipped out of the room. I've felt rather crummy these last few weeks about my teaching. So it was good to hear.

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1165013523389289302006-12-01T17:22:00.000-05:002006-12-01T18:22:26.976-05:00

Last weekend we bought our first Christmas tree. A fake tree, mind you. (I'm sure my older brother would groan at this.) But Tom's allergic and the pine needles would make our already messy apartment that much more so and the fire hazard...if we ever get a bigger place with a fire escape, I'd get one of those little trees in a tub and put it outside in the off months. Real Christmas trees are

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1164932804305416952006-11-30T19:10:00.000-05:002006-11-30T19:32:05.746-05:00

Yesterday I taught for nine hours--almost straight. I had 20 minutes for lunch and then an hour or so during which I did class preparation and graded quizzes. They needed a sub for a class that meets at night, and I, the glutton for punishment that I am, said I'd do it.Then I came back to teach a pointless class today. My intensive grammar class took their big test yesterday, but we were

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1163118213521323532006-11-09T19:01:00.000-05:002006-11-09T19:23:33.533-05:00

The amazingest thing happened the other day--you know, the fact that BOTH the House and the Senate are once again in the hands of the Democrats. (My slip is showing on this, I know.) It was a nice feeling, back on the 7th when I pulled this over-large red handle and deposited my vote into a void, hoping against hope it would do something. Apparently, a vote does matter--at least in Virginia,

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1162955258230756262006-11-07T21:58:00.000-05:002006-11-07T22:07:38.266-05:00

On the way home today, riding on the 7, my boots (pictured left) met their twin set. A woman sat next to me, and I saw them, proudly displayed with a pair of excellent jeans. She was reading this huge textbook, I was reading a worn out copy of Jane Austen's Emma. It was another of those crazy New York moments...

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1162586060435401852006-11-03T15:19:00.000-05:002006-11-03T15:34:20.490-05:00

A man on the subway winked at me the other day. I don't think I've been winked (for real, at least) at in my life. Two days later, another man sat next to me on the 3 and plopped down a large bag of who knows what. He looked at a woman across from us and pulled his mouth up into a big smile with his fingers. Then he began digging in his bag furiously, muttering to himself: Yes. Yes. Here it is.

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1161965365892342302006-10-27T11:47:00.000-04:002006-10-27T14:41:50.453-04:00

Yesterday evening I was sitting alone in a Starbuck's cafe in Barnes and Noble, minding my own business, reading a copy of Marie Clare. A youngish man approached and asked if anyone was sitting there. I said no, cleared off the table a bit, and continued reading. (For those of you non-urbanites, this is completely kosher in New York to have perfect strangers sitting at the same table in a coffee

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1161305935466136112006-10-19T20:34:00.000-04:002006-10-20T14:28:21.963-04:00

I am thoroughly sick of two things: myself and my clothes obsession, and Joyce Carol Oates.First, let's deal with me. Does anyone out there ever try on a pair of shoes in the store, walk around in them for quite some time, are amazed at their comfort and good looks, and decide: hey these are great!!! I'll buy them! But then, when you get them home, one day you take them out to wear, and lo and

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1161214231392099842006-10-18T18:49:00.000-04:002006-10-18T19:30:31.496-04:00

My intensive class has started again, and though it's nice to be bringing home some extra bacon, I must say I'm the most tired I've been in a long time. I remember feeling this way in college after a spending most or all of the night in the WeatherVane office (my undergrad newspaper, for those who didn't know me back then) and dragging myself to an 8 o'clock class. It's not exactly the hours. I'm

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1160712851442040652006-10-12T23:41:00.000-04:002006-10-13T00:14:11.460-04:00

This weekend we went to a renaissance festival at the Cloisters. It was one of those days when you knew fall had come: the sun was hot without the fierceness of summer, the scent of the leaves and earth had turned ever so slightly to that time of decay.I love fall. Even when it toys with you. You never know if it's going to be 80 degrees or 50. If that sweater you brought with you will be

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1160421547360893112006-10-09T14:51:00.000-04:002006-10-09T15:19:08.143-04:00

I've found myself a little depressed these last few days. I can't quite pinpoint what is the culprit, although it may be the little things that have happened that have added up to larger issues. Sometimes I freak out about the small stuff, and am completely calm about huge things. Or so Thomas says. I think he may be right. It may be a kind of survival mechanism. Freak out about the things you

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1159996765928908802006-10-04T16:43:00.000-04:002006-10-04T18:01:22.703-04:00

My birthday is coming fast (the 9th, if anyone reading wants to send a card or a gift or cash), and some various (yet uninteresting) things have made me reflect on the nature of family: specifically, siblings. When you're a kid (I'm 27 going on 28--I may sound like an old coot about this), conflicts are there, but they're more about your brother stealing a toy or your mum making you go to bed in

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1159889673134897522006-10-03T11:20:00.000-04:002006-10-03T11:34:33.203-04:00

A new "school year" is about to begin at my college, and I'm finding myself on the other side of the desk. I am the one who must figure grades and tell people who use cell phones and are late what's what. It will be an interesting 15 weeks, to say the least.A friend from Sarah Lawrence emailed me yesterday. She's got a plummy internship at Tin House, a very respected lit journal, and she said

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1159548623945085532006-09-29T11:55:00.000-04:002006-09-29T12:50:24.083-04:00

Dear Reader(s):I apologize profusely for my absence. You are right to be upset as this sister. Life has been very distracting--and, frankly, I've been lazy. When I'm not working on my lesson plans, traveling between Harlem and Flushing, I've been spending my free time in front of the tube, watching the Netflix's Lost series. Tom and I were trying to get both season 1 and 2 finished before season

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1157213038274578482006-09-02T11:26:00.000-04:002006-09-02T12:03:58.356-04:00

Yes, I've joined the masses yet again after a two year hiatus. It happened suddenly. Last Thursday, a woman called from--get this--the Long Island Business Institute. She had looked at my resume (I had found the job on Cragslist.com) and wanted me to come in for an interview for a job that was starting Monday. I came in on Friday, she'd hired me an hour later, and I sat in an orientation that

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1155679430808983022006-08-15T17:39:00.000-04:002006-08-15T18:11:31.020-04:00

I can always tell when I'm thinking about something hard and maybe deep, because that's when I go wandering--and eventually find myself in a clothing store. I went into my favorite thrift shop and saw this wonderful wonderful bamboo coffee table that would look great in a real apartment but would never fit in ours. I waded into the Gap, and waded out again. Honestly, I can't imagine paying 50 for

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1154791665865893692006-08-05T11:04:00.000-04:002006-08-05T11:27:47.110-04:00

I did go outside yesterday, and spent money. I have a wedding to attend next weekend, and I was feeling I ought to wear something new. I've shopped off and on for this--and found this Jackie O. kind of dress (navy w/ polkadots), but I just didn't feel right in it. It seemed like something I'd only wear once and never again--unless I go to some similar wedding. Then I found a hippie dress and a

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1154714108535710132006-08-04T13:37:00.000-04:002006-08-04T14:08:09.506-04:00

Here I am dear faithful readers, if any still remain. My class ended yesterday (I realized when looking at my last blog I made it sound like a five-week course, but it was four), and I slept off and on till around 11 am. I say off and on because it has been damn hot these past few days. I've felt I haven't really slept in our unairconditioned bake box, just lost consciousness for a few hours.I

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1152921073486485912006-07-14T19:32:00.000-04:002006-07-14T19:51:13.576-04:00

I've just completed week one of the intensive TESOL course. It feels like a month! I've gotten, at max, 6 hours of sleep a night, the apartment's a mess, my laundry looks like a mountain, and I've only had a snatching of free time. I've barely seen Tom, with our conflicting schedules. The most I've talked to him is during supper, and then I head to the computer or my class reading or making

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1152331246490852462006-07-07T23:56:00.000-04:002006-07-08T00:00:46.500-04:00

I will not do it justice. So I merely refer you to the Times and will let you read about the complaints that have been shared with various New York mayors since the 1700s. The letter at left is my favorite.

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1152208882864026772006-07-06T13:47:00.000-04:002006-07-06T14:01:22.950-04:00

I found another pair of thrift store jeans, this time they're "just" Gap, but they fit the best of all my new pairs! And this store had all women's jeans half off, so I got them for 6 bucks!! (Shall I make another sentence that has multiple exclamation points? Yes!!!!!) I really think luck comes in groups. I had a thrift store stint like this last fall.I think I'm really into school mode. I

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1152113962045645062006-07-05T11:12:00.000-04:002006-07-05T11:39:22.156-04:00

The clock is ticking on my free time this week. On Monday I begin an intensive course on teaching English for Speakers of Other Languages, (TESOL) at Rennert Bilingual for a month. For most of July and the first week of August I'll be heading out the door at the god-awful hour of 8 a.m. for a 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. class five days a week. During those hours I'm going to try to stuff as much methodology

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1151711280653668442006-06-30T18:54:00.000-04:002006-06-30T22:03:23.766-04:00

For the first time in my life I have something I never thought I'd own:A pair of Lucky Brand Jeans.Now, one would have to stroll through my high school years to fully appreciate this. You see, in high school, owning a pair of Luckys was the IT in IT-ness. This was in the 90s-women-still-wearing-body-suits era (thank Jesus-Allah-Bhudda that's over with--though I did see some body suit tube tops

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1151365018143938292006-06-26T19:06:00.000-04:002006-06-26T19:36:58.230-04:00

Tom and I walked in the Gay Pride march yesterday. It was great. The Lower East Side Harm Reduction Center had a DJ on a flatbed truck; well-endowed folk swiveled gracefully; firefighters and drag queens danced down the street. Tom and I made it briefly on local news. When we came to 23rd Street and Broadway, Tom commented on the fact that we had done a full-circle, of sorts. Watching the Gay

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1151186616511353462006-06-24T17:45:00.000-04:002006-06-28T13:25:58.330-04:00

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1149635278954158622006-06-10T22:50:00.000-04:002006-06-10T22:56:56.126-04:00

We went to Montreal for a mini-vacation last week. It was nice to see a different city with a totally different vibe from New York. The tourist attractions weren't great. There's a church near the top of what folks in Montreal call the Plateau, with at least a hundred steps to it. We were expecting something holy--we were confronted with this cold mausoleum. The guide book said the basilica was "

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1147151812099479652006-05-09T01:08:00.000-04:002006-05-09T01:16:52.110-04:00

This weekend Teddy was here, and I went museum wandering with him--we actually went through two museums in one afternoon! Which is one too many for me, usually. I get so drained by all the visual stimuli. We went to the MoMA and the Folk Art museum. The Folk Art wasn't as bad as I was expecting. I was envisioning a bunch of dust gathering knick knacks, but there were a few pieces of glorious

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1146455296756047492006-04-30T23:32:00.000-04:002006-05-01T00:09:27.900-04:00

For the first time in our relationship, Tom and I had a spring cleaning day for a place we can call our very own--at least, our own as long as we pay the rent. Now, Tom doesn't like the term, spring cleaning, and he has various reasons for it, but that's what we were doing no matter what it's called. We are only half--if not less than--done with the job, because we're doing all those dirty little

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1146260044140014222006-04-28T17:10:00.000-04:002006-04-28T17:36:33.696-04:00

The picture on the blog is not hopeless--it comes from a site by a friend of Tom's, called Hobosoup. He plugged it on his blog as well, so really I'm being a copy cat, but what can I say?Annie (the woman in the photo) is one of the coolest people I know. She's this kick-ass, I've Been Everywhere, Been There, Done That chainsmoker I've known (through Tom) since I've lived in New York. She's kind

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1144803741726513052006-04-21T12:24:00.000-04:002006-04-21T12:26:19.586-04:00

I turned in my thesis last Tuesday. It was a rather anti-climactic moment. My thesis advisor is on sabbatical and rarely comes on campus, so I just left it in her mailbox at the graduate center. It looked a little sad to be shuttled off in such a manner, but what could I do? I felt like leaning in and whispering: It's okay, Carolyn will take you home soon. And she'll be firm but right and

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1144689876914132652006-04-10T12:50:00.000-04:002006-04-10T13:24:37.696-04:00

I've been feeling especially dried up about writing lately. And cynical to boot. I went to a reading on Friday that was made up of MFA students from around the city, expecting great things and came back with only a few bright moments. One of which was a classmate's performance--which, though I may be biased, but I thought went very well. However, the paltry scheisse I was forced to listen to

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1143827701069686402006-03-31T12:33:00.000-05:002006-03-31T12:55:01.136-05:00

It's definitely spring. Yesterday I was walking to the subway and saw the old men playing dominoes on the sidewalk, and kids were running around, screaming like banshees. It was a nice gentle warmth, though it got cold in the evening. But it's finally arrived. It's very dry, though. It's been the driest month of March ever for New York state since they started keeping records. It's supposed to

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1143402219938229292006-03-26T14:29:00.000-05:002006-09-20T20:43:35.110-04:00

Well, the other day I went to Erica Jong's reading at the Broadway and 82nd Barnes & Noble (since I wrote a review of her newest book I figured I may as well see her in the flesh), and I got a fresh view of West Side snobbery. The people attending the reading were just plain selfish, mean, crotchety folk. One old dude berated me for saving a seat for Lady L (who was dashing uptown from work):You

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1143134361257506962006-03-23T11:53:00.000-05:002006-03-23T12:19:21.323-05:00

Apparently there's this thing Wunelle has about telling the blog-world what seven songs you're into at the moment. He mentions he'd like to hear from me. I'm horrible with names and titles, so it might take a few minutes to look them up. Basically, there's this pile of CDs next to our player, and I rotate them around because I'm too lazy to go through the huge books:Neil Young - Old ManBob

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1142444470154485162006-03-15T12:34:00.000-05:002006-03-15T12:41:10.196-05:00

Well, I didn't get into the NYC Teaching Fellows. On the one hand, I am upset that anyone would reject me (me of all people!!!), but on the other hand, I'm slightly relieved. I wasn't totally sure I wanted to enslave myself to the New York Public School system. So, I'm back to looking for work--though I unoffically have been since the interview.On the positive side, I'm about to be published on

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1141321227641396822006-03-02T12:05:00.000-05:002006-03-02T12:49:05.190-05:00

Well, the interview is over and done with. According to my interviewer, I could find out whether I've been accepted in two weeks or two months. So, I'm back in the rat race, because there's no telling what will happen. The group I interviewed with was pretty good--save for one sweet girl who tripped and nearly fell and didn't finish her lesson plan on time. If she gets in she'll be eaten alive by

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1141164932161756692006-02-28T17:08:00.000-05:002006-02-28T17:15:32.170-05:00

I was in the Sarah Lawrence bookstore just now, and as I was searching for a book, I overheard this conversation, more or less:Whiney Girl: I would go to New York more, but I always feel like I have to be constantly on my guard.Buxom Saleswoman: Yeah, every day you hear about rape and murder. It's a horrible place! I'm telling you, there must be somethin' in the whaaater [insert New Yorker/

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1140827304469676702006-02-24T19:23:00.000-05:002006-02-24T19:28:24.483-05:00

I'm going for an interview for the Teaching Fellows program. I am a little freaked out by it. Mostly because of the sample lesson we have to teach. I wouldn't be so worried about it but the time limit's five minutes and they are apparently quite tough about it. My only comforts are the other candidates are probably as freaked as I am and it will all be over by this time tomorrow...I think I'll

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1140197897744797152006-02-17T12:23:00.000-05:002006-02-17T12:38:17.806-05:00

The Dean of Studies at Sarah Lawrence died yesterday. She had been struggling with cancer for several years, apparently. I didn't know her very well, but she was the faculty sponsor of the Right to Write program--had initiated it, I believe.I didn't even know she was sick. I had a meeting with her last semester, and in retrospect she did look a little guant, but I had always known her as a

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1140108999550586122006-02-16T11:33:00.000-05:002006-02-16T11:59:28.860-05:00

I was just visited by some cute old ladies who're spreading the Good Word around this building. They were just so earnest and sweet with their coats and hats and smiles. It's weird being on the other side of an evangelical crew. I once was on that other side. For three or four weeks one summer I lived on a beach in San Diego, went in to Tijuana every day and did basketball and swimming camp and

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1140051035246239462006-02-15T19:31:00.000-05:002006-02-15T19:50:35.333-05:00

Yes, it's been a long time, and my readership has probably dropped off by now, but it's all been for a good cause. It's job-huntin'-thesis-finishin'-goin'-to-Staten-Island time. I just found out I've been moved up to the next level of the NYC Teaching Fellows program! Yay for me! Now I have to go to this huge interview process: I have to make a 5 minute (exactly--they'll stop you if you go over)

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1138816266517622272006-02-01T12:03:00.000-05:002006-02-01T12:51:06.593-05:00

The above title is a saying of my dad's...Last night Tom and I hosted a Bush-drinka-thon. Some friends from our Menno House days came armed with margarita fixings and a blender. I broke out our wedding linen and dishes which Tom filled with junk food. We then each chose a word we believed would be said the most during the speech, and promised to drink each time the word was said. (Of course,

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1138558509281316252006-01-29T12:32:00.000-05:002006-01-29T13:15:12.546-05:00

Last night Tom and I went to see the movie--the first in many many months--Munich, directed by Speilberg and partly written by Tony Kushner. (When Tom told me Tony Kushner, who is one of the celebrities I've met and actually had a one-sentence conversation with (I was wearing my Amnesty International anti-death penalty t-shirt when I went to a reading and he said, I like your shirt. I said,

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1138466521266493802006-01-28T11:17:00.000-05:002006-01-28T11:42:01.366-05:00

I can add to my ever-growing list of celebrities the Shawshank Redemption-star Tim Robbins. It was in probably one of the coolest bars I've been in yet--it rivals the KGB bar on 4th St. (Where KGB is all about hole-in-the-wall grime and Communism, this one is all about opulance and Capitalism.) This bar is completely on the DL. If you don't know what you're looking for, you'd miss it. Luckily Tom

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1138379282200834432006-01-27T10:59:00.000-05:002006-01-27T11:28:02.306-05:00

We got a rug in the mail today. Of course I was so convieniently in the shower so I begged the guy behind the door to wait a moment so I could get decent. (We rarely get knocks on the door so I always know it must be important. My mum and I laugh because in my hometown mail people just leave packages on the doormat, while here you have to be around and able to sign for it. (Though I'd be willing

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1137979156423187032006-01-22T20:02:00.000-05:002006-01-22T20:19:16.470-05:00

Today Tom and I were tramping around Manhattan with a soon-to-be-Manhattanited friend from college (let's call her Lady L for now--I don't know if she wants to star in my blogs just yet), looking for an apartment. We found one we all liked, liked the rent (it's funny how the concept of 'reasonable' has changed since we moved here--at Stone House, Sarah and I each paid 150 for a (small, but bigger

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1137780539474947862006-01-20T12:24:00.000-05:002006-01-20T13:08:59.553-05:00

I'm dealing with this on-again-off-again sore throat and earache thing. I've been taking DayQuil--rather, the generic version of it--and though it's not supposed to make you drowsy, it definately has made me rather looney.I just finished A Feast for Crows, by George R.R. Martin. It is book four of a series of fantasy novels. Though I've always been a bit snobbish about such kinds of books, I

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1137698351986107472006-01-19T13:20:00.000-05:002006-01-19T14:34:58.176-05:00

It's 2:16 and I am yet to eat lunch. This happens a lot with my (mainly Tom's) schedule. Since he works 12 to 8s every day except Saturdays, I rarely need to get up before 9:30 or so, so breakfast isn't till at least 10, so my real lunch time is 3 or 4. Since my classes are all in the late afternoons there's no reason to get up any sooner. I've always been a nightowl anyway, though not like in

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1137369130834829542006-01-15T18:24:00.000-05:002006-01-15T18:52:10.893-05:00

Remember that jingle: This is not your father's Oldsmobile? This is the new generation of Old! Anyone? Well, I distinctly remember it from my young days of a three (sometimes four) channel television set. (I remember the day when we got a TV that managed to capture Fox 24 and we didn't have to go to Grandma's to watch the Simpsons. (We also had to drive to Grandma's when there were tornados

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1137089176326242032006-01-12T12:28:00.000-05:002006-01-12T13:27:56.240-05:00

Yesterday I remembered yet again why I love New York: people can call you up on the fly and invite you to a Broadway play. And you can "postpone" a lunch date because of it--well, I could, at least.Linda, a friend from Manhattan Mennonite Fellowship (otherwise known to some as pigeon haven ;)) called yesterday and asked if I was free to see the musical "Spamalot," as she had an extra ticket. A

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1136933821370957152006-01-10T17:25:00.000-05:002006-01-11T01:05:50.313-05:00

Here's the first proof--photographic, that is--of my brother and Anna's nuptuals and my success as a matchmaker. (Back Row: brother David, husband Tom, brother Ben, cousin Todd, cousin Mark. Front: Me, sister-in-law Anna, cousin-in-law Lori and cousin-in-law Melissa.) There is a more formal photo including my parents and Aunt Lori and Uncle Doyle, but I think I look fat in it. I'm smiling so

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1136335920973474462006-01-03T19:49:00.000-05:002006-01-03T19:52:00.983-05:00

Relationships are a weird thing. Some just sort of creep up on you. Others are chosen. Others, like family, are chosen for you. I’ve been thinking about relationships, my own, for quite some time now. Mainly the transformation or even disintegration of relationships.I’m thinking it’s the gradual, little things that make transformation or disintegration of relationships rather than big ones,

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1135354201645838252005-12-23T11:06:00.000-05:002005-12-23T11:29:12.920-05:00

This morning on the WNYC show hosted by Brian Lehrer they had a holiday greeting jam. I was too shy (imagine me shy!) and hyped up on too much coffee to call it in, and then I was, but I couldn't get through, so I'm sharing it with my public:NEW YORK MORNINGSI sip twice-sugared coffeeand turn a deaf earto the siren’s screams.White shirt presses close—no face attatched,then, “Stand clear of the

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1135192052950455722005-12-21T13:09:00.000-05:002005-12-21T14:20:20.510-05:00

It's Day Two of the transit strike here in the city. Although I haven't had to go anywhere since yesterday, most of New York, including Tom, has had to deal with a complete dearth of public transportation. There is not a single subway or public bus running in any of the five boroughs. You realize how much you depend on something when it disappears from sight. Yesterday, Tom had to walk 19 blocks

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1134405739665690962005-12-12T11:32:00.000-05:002005-12-16T11:02:16.230-05:00

Today on the subway there was a group of girls, ages around 16 or 17, who were giggling up a storm and in general being loud. At first I was annoyed. But then they began rapping, saying something about "laffy taffy." One of the girls began shaking her generous booty, while the others egged her on. At one point she was swinging on the handrails. I couldn't help but laugh. There was one other white

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1134171902935265762005-12-09T18:33:00.000-05:002005-12-09T19:45:37.806-05:00

We had our first real snow this morning. I got up early and looked at the flakes wander down. It made the "courtyard" behind our building almost look pretty. But, by 10 a.m. the prettiness vanished beneath snowshovels and plows. Snow in New York is serene beauty for two seconds, maybe less, then turns into a slushy-dog pee-dog poop mess you have to pick your way through.It's interesting to see

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1133887780464644482005-12-06T11:26:00.000-05:002005-12-06T11:49:40.566-05:00

I realized yesterday how much our penal system depends on dopes who cling to their little seat of power in the big cog they call justice. We went to Valhalla to distribute the anthologies of the women's work. Although we had been told at the beginning not to bring any paperclips to the prison, since they can be used as weapons, nothing had been said about staples, and one of the teachers had seen

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1133548772608104692005-12-02T13:25:00.000-05:002005-12-02T14:07:08.786-05:00

So, I had the fantasy of getting the laundry (that was piling up for over a week) done today. Apparently the gods of washing machines decided to play with me. Two of the triple loads were down, leaving only one of them operational--or so I thought. I loaded up this damned machine and went back to our studio for more. When I came back, the machine had stopped mid-cycle, and what I had to deal with

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1133156917183721902005-11-28T00:23:00.000-05:002005-12-23T12:18:19.700-05:00

I have to make this quick. Tom and my brother, David, have left so I can get some work done, and of course, I want to work but the pull of the internet has me in its bosom. The picture you see to the left is Tom and myself last weekend when my other brother, Ben and his soon-to-be wife, Anna, came to visit and we went for a walk on Riverside Park. I always feel kick ass in these sunglasses I'm

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1132154776735712592005-11-18T11:13:00.000-05:002005-11-18T11:15:19.300-05:00

I don't know what's the matter with me and making trains, but for the second time in a row I nearly missed the train to school on Tuesday. This time the bus was the culprit--one didn't arrive at the stop until 2:15 or so, and because it was such a late bus there were a lot of people at every stop between 139th and 125th. Usually I don't think this, but I was glad there were no wheelchair bound

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1131729083149853022005-11-11T11:45:00.000-05:002005-11-11T12:11:23.200-05:00

My desk has officially become a disaster area. It has become covered to the point where little of the desk so lovingly bought at Ikea shows any longer. Unpaid bills, books that are either overdue or unread or borrowed, a pair of elephants, boxes of cards I like too dearly to send to anyone, a lamp that has, more or less, survived my various trundlings across this continent since I was eleven--

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1131642161185263922005-11-10T11:41:00.000-05:002005-11-10T12:43:40.870-05:00

Yesterday I ventured up to SLC on a non-class day to hear Jonathan Lethem read and have an after-the-big-read dinner with nine other SLC grad students. Getting to the reading was an adventure in itself. I almost missed the train, which proceeded to move very slowly and when it arrived in Bronxville it was already 6:20 (arrival time was scheduled for 6:13). Because it was dark with little

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1131498040699170562005-11-08T19:49:00.000-05:002005-11-08T20:00:40.733-05:00

Tom was interviewed by a WNYC reporter on his Narcan trainings last week, and the story aired on Sunday. He sounds so grown up and official. I could say what exactly Narcan is, but I don't want to steal his thunder. He has been in print with the Village Voice, will be on the big TV screen with Channel 11 news at the end of the month and now this--all about Narcan. So, now all he has to do is

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1131410764443798492005-11-07T19:15:00.000-05:002005-11-07T19:46:04.490-05:00

Today at Valhalla I found out that the woman who had gotten out (the one who said she knew what she was doing when she stepped out the door) died of an overdose (the one who told me suspects it was heroin or a combo of some kind) less than 24 hours after she was released. I'm still not truly believing it.Before I left last week I told her as she shook my hand: Behave yourself.She laughed.I know

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1131298119038378442005-11-06T12:10:00.000-05:002005-11-06T12:28:39.100-05:00

There's some kind of commotion going outside that I can't see out of our window. Someone's shouting into a microphone (I just made out the words Go! Go! Go!) but I haven't been able to hear the exact words to figure out what they're all shouting about. At first I thought it to be a kind of evangelical stunt--there's too many Baptist churches around here to shake a stick at--but the echoed music

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1131065306639323742005-11-04T23:21:00.000-05:002005-11-04T11:21:01.666-05:00

A good friend came to visit last week and I mentioned that we are having not only my brothers and Anna over for Thanksgiving, we are having some friends of mine from Sarah Lawrence who are originally from California for the big meal.You're becoming That Couple! he exclaimed.What?You're becoming That Couple who takes in people for the holidays. The couple who supports the vagrant friends. You've

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1130978290101297862005-11-02T18:53:00.000-05:002005-11-02T19:38:10.163-05:00

A long December and there's reason to believeMaybe this year will be better than the lastI can't remember the last thing that you said as you were leavin'Now the days go by so fast…The smell of hospitals in winterAnd the feeling that it's all a lot of oysters, but no pearlsAll at once you look across a crowded roomTo see the way that light attaches to a girl…Drove up to Hillside Manor sometime

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1130822509847412362005-11-01T00:12:00.000-05:002005-11-01T00:21:49.860-05:00

Ah, Halloween has come again. As the Sarah Lawrence van slipped from the confines of the Westchester County prison in Valhalla, I looked upon the scurrying cars, the turning leaves and listened to my fellow teachers’ conversation about how women seem to use this holiday as a reason to get sluttish (oh so true), I thought about how lonely that prison was. How isolated the reality is for those who

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1130601292637197852005-10-29T11:53:00.000-04:002005-10-29T11:57:05.120-04:00

Well, I dyed my hair a very vibrant red this morning.I'd been contemplating this move for a long while, but various obstacles like time and time and getting the guts to do it myself have held it up. Don't think I haven't done this before; I've been dying off and on since October 2003. That was when I returned from Boston where I had radiation therapy. I decided I'd gone through enough shit so

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1129909921336456242005-10-28T06:46:00.000-04:002005-10-28T18:47:54.803-04:00

The other day I was browsing blogs and came upon one that talked about thoughts of suicide. I wrote a comment about how I think of life and death at times, and how that speech of Macbeth in Act V comes to mind:To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,To the last syllable of recorded time;And all our yesterdays have lighted foolsThe way to dusty death.Out,

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1129833899475594582005-10-20T14:11:00.000-04:002005-10-20T15:12:27.033-04:00

It's weird the kind of relationships that happen in this city. You may live next door to a person who remains a stranger forever, but you gain camaraderie with the clerk at your grocery, the guy who speaks little English at the corner bodega, the mail carrier, the coffee shop owner and the dry cleaner/seamstress. You might even know their name at one point. I guess that's because they are the

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1129660595582716012005-10-18T14:12:00.000-04:002005-10-18T14:44:18.290-04:00

This morning on the train I sat behind a group of tourists going to the Botanical Gardens in the Bronx. If one was deaf, one would not know that they were tourists (they weren't wearing the uniform of "denim and sneakers"), but one could not help but hear them loudly conversing with each other to recognize their true nature. It took me a minute or two to realize that they were from Louisiana (

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1129317506640145092005-10-14T15:30:00.000-04:002005-10-14T15:33:33.786-04:00

Whoever said most of a writer's life is avoiding writing was all too wise. For the past few days I've greeted the morning sun (well, this is figurative, not literal--another day of rain) with hope and determination, saying This will be the day I'll finally tackle that manuscript. This usually lasts till after the shower and some kind of breakfast. Then I wash the dishes, make the bed, clean the

Jessicanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5650171.post-1129249123443162142005-10-13T19:47:00.000-04:002005-10-14T00:23:30.563-04:00

Just now, out of curiosity's sake, I typed my name into the Google image site. Two Jessica ________ appeared, as you can see. (Can you figure out who's who?) Of course, both came from Mennonite college websites: Hesston College and Eastern Mennonite University. I remember when this picture was taken and what it was for. I had written a final opinion piece for the Weather Vane before graduation,

Jessicanoreply@blogger.com