Paul Rudd and Cicadas

(and this photo has nothing to do with either, but I took it today and it's pretty)
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(OR) The people have spoken!

At least the people who are lucky enough to stumble onto my blog over the last week or so...

Guests! Visitors! I've put out a virtual Welcome Mat, a place to stomp your feet. Or perhaps you'd prefer a cup of coffee (or iced tea, it is already scorching here in Middle Georgia)?

Actually. I know what YOU WANT (through the search terms you've entered to find this blog):

1) You want to know when the cicadas will be...gone or at least quiet:

"how many more weeks left for the cicadas"
"how many more weeks will cicadas be in tennesee"
"decibel levels of 13 yr periodical cicadas"
"how many more weeks until the cicadas leave nashville"

2) Or anything related to Paul Rudd and/or his not-related-but-should-be doppelganger George Newbern:

"is paul rudd in father of the bride"
"do paul rudd and george newbern look alike"
"paul rudd in father of the bride"
"george newbern country music"

I can tell you that after spending a large amount of time outside over the last couple days the cicada song seems to be gone. As far as Middle Georgia is concerned they were audible for three solid weeks.

Now, Paul Rudd was NOT in Father of the Bride. Paul and George DO look alike. AND I know nothing about George Newbern and country music OTHER than the fact that his Father of the Bride "bride" (Kimberly Williams) is married to country singer, Brad Paisley.

Side Note: One of my best friends and former roommate, looks a lot like Kimberly Williams...(just to keep the doppelganger thing a new twist).
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~~J

Polite.

This photo isn't the best--

It's the "state line" sign one sees when crossing into TN from one of it's neighbors to the south...

"Tennessee

Welcomes You"

Simple, to the point.

If you happen to blink, it may be easy to miss--but it's polite in it's message.

Of course, I try not to blink when crossing state lines. Aside from counting mile markers and watching the clock, it's the best way to feel like you're making any progress!

Mississippi's sign says, "Welcome to...." The one I pass features the state in red while the letters are white. The "ssiss" in the middle is dropped down and curly cursive. It looks pretty classy.

Now, Alabama isn't shy. It welcomes you to "Alabama the Beautiful." The "welcome" part is easy to miss, but the "beautiful" part is very prominent. Good for you, Alabama. I like a state with healthy self-esteem.

I admit that this trip "through" Alabama (along a major interstate and a well-travelled highway) was quite beautiful. A lot of the trees seemed to be at their "peak" as far as foliage is concerned.

Now--when I reverse my trip and go BACK to GCSU next weekend, I'll have the opportunity to see the Georgia state line sign again. It is definitely worth mentioning here:

"Welcome: We're Glad Georgia's on your Mind"

Of course, this is a direct reference to the song--which has been the official state song for more than 30 years (Thanks to the recording by Ray Charles).

And that's the way the road goes.

~~J

Capote* on Prozac*

*cupcakes

As my last weekend in Memphis winds down (for now), I found a few hours to spend with a fellow...

workshop survivor?
writer?
MFA-er?

(yes x 3)

Of course, we won't be attending the same graduate writing program...no one can handle us both at the same time...we did successfully survive the application process together (just as the magnum of wine we consumed one night).

Where did we start out? BOOKSTAR -- which is probably my favorite "chain" place to hang. The converted movie theater has the coolest bathrooms in Memphis. No, really. I'm NOT kidding.

After I picked up the latest edition of the Oxford American (best magazine, y'all)...we joined forces (vehicles) and traveled to the best local bake shop...MUDDY'S...

I've been hearing about cupcakes from this bake shop from friends for quite some time. I originally didn't want to go because I knew I'd fall in love and just have another thing to pine for while away at school. I was right--LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!

We waited patiently in a friendly-spiral line....I admired the knick-knacks and decor. When we made it up to the bakery case I said something like, "Don't judge me, I'm about to order half a dozen so I can try six of those suckers!"

prozac (chocolate/milk chocolate) (pictured)
capote (chocolate/vanilla buttercream)
frankly scarlett (red velvet/ cream cheese)
pucker up (lemon/lemon)
citrus explosion (lemon/orange)
new yorker (chocolate/cheesecake)

With our cupcake bounty (he picked up six too), we shimmed over to Whole Foods for appropriately fun beverages to wash them down with (I tried another brand of coconut water).

Pucker and Capote were the first to go...eaten delicately with a fork. I don't know how I managed to go soooooooo slow, but it took several forkfuls to finish just one. I couldn't help the noises though. These aren't HUGE cupcakes, they are perfectly sized!

About five hours later (really, FIVE HOURS) somewhere around midnight, the New Yorker disappeared...whoops! Frankly Scarlett was great from breakfast...(you get the idea).

Alas, back to packing...

~~J

Clang! Clang! Clang!

went the Trolley...

Ding! Ding! Ding! went the bell...

Zing! Zing! Zing! went my heartstrings...

What decent person doesn't love an onomatopoeia in lyrical form?

You know I do!

(enough with the exclamation points already)

This past weekend I took a little trip downtown, complete with dinner, a trolley ride, a late night stop at the Peabody Hotel lobby, and a wee early morning stop for donuts.

I may have been 100 degrees outside, despite the absence of the sun. The humid, sticky air was stagnant. Hundreds of people were out and about. There was a line to get ONTO Beale Street even.

Any good Memphian should know WHAT exactly is going on in the above photo. I took it on a moving Trolley (Riverfront Loop)...does THAT parenthetical aside help you out any?

"Old Man River will be the backdrop when you ride the Riverfront Loop. Ride in an authentic vintage trolley car along a breathtaking stretch of the mighty Mississippi River, connecting with the Main Street Trolley and Madison Avenue. There's no better way to get a nostalgic glimpse of Memphis!" (MATA website)

I was thinking about my Saturday night on Sunday afternoon and couldn't help but recall the episode of Sex and the City when Carrie finds out Big is moving to Napa. He's the "Chrysler Building," leaving New York.

Of course, Big is "tired" of New York and I am NOT tired of Memphis. But the feelings are similar and palpable as far as the episode (and 10 minute clip I linked you to) are concerned.

Moon River + Ol' Man River = Me

~~J

Walkin' in...

(photo from the USGS website)

One thing that surprises me (or maybe it doesn't) is the response I get from a lot of people when I tell them I will be leaving for graduate school--"leaving" as in "moving away" from Memphis:

"Good for you! You're getting out of this place!"

What? I like Memphis. What?

Granted, I've "only" lived here for...sixteen years...not a lifetime, but I get a bit defensive when people talk down about the city. A few professors discussed this phenomenon during my last semesters as an undergraduate.

One (originally from Canada, who got his Ph.D. from Rutgers) talked about the low cost of living and the great night life. He said that no matter where you went in Memphis, even the smallest "dive" or "hole-in-the-wall" the music was amazing. He said there was no "bad" music here, the "worst" band in Memphis would be the best in any other city.

Another talked about how he couldn't believe the negative comments he heard about the city, because he liked it to (and he's lived all over the place). Our first class meeting, we got in a circle and he point blank asked everyone WHAT they thought about the city and WHY.

I don't get it. I mean, sure--I get it. Murder. Mayhem. Drugs. Violence. Poverty.

But there is plenty to love about the city. I've been reading the ILOVEMEMPHIS blog a lot lately, and I think I am going to visit it several times a day after I move...

Love ya, M!

~~J

Happy Bloomsday!

It's a single day, following the ordinary life of Leopold Bloom in Dublin...told over 18 chaotic episodes (or 265,000 words)...

in [ULYSSES] written by James Joyce in 1922.

I have yet to read it but respectfully, I know of it's existence.

I even own a beautiful hardback copy from 1946, which goes for $45-$100 on eBay every now and then. (I found mine for...$2 at a local second-hand bookstore)

Included in the forward, is a copy of the district court decision to lift the ban on the book in December 1933.

Ban? Yes, it was seen as "pornographic," written for the purpose of "exploiting obscenity." This made it illegal to own in the United States for over ten years. Gem from the decision:

"Each word of the book contributes like a bit of mosaic to the detail of the picture which Joyce is seeking to construct for his readers." (John M. Woolsey)

As much as I like the idea of people smuggling books across borders because they aren't "allowed" to read them. I do not agree WITH the need to do so, i.e., if it's offensive to you--don't read it.

One of my favorite sites allows you to search for words in the text: RIGHT HERE They let you search the text of several works, not just James Joyce. This comes in handy when you know you know a quote but can't remember WHERE it appears (I have this problem with Shakespeare).

What I do know well is the last episode in which we hear/read Molly Bloom's internal monologue ending with beautiful words and feelings:

"...I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes. "

~~J

An Assassin--

Oh! That JOHN MAYER...last night...

No, I'm not alone...

I'm an assassin and I had a job to do...

Suddenly I'm in over my head

and I can hardly breathe...

And I feel everything...

I know exactly what I've done

and what it's gonna mean to me...

I was a killer, was the best they'd ever seen...

I'd steal your heart before you ever heard a thing...

Little did I know,

that girl was an assassin too.

Eat Your Heart Out!

your Godiva Chocolate heart!!

(obviously I didn't give up chocolate for Lent)

So you'd think a "Hey, I've got great news" entry would be relatively easy to write, right? (homophone!)

Not so fast, my dear reader (you).

The big Rejection Tuesday (2/9/10) was followed by the big Acceptance Tuesday (2/16/10)...

Yes. It's been about 37 38 hours since that "little" e-mail (little, because it was read via BlackBerry)...completely unexpected--I was thrown for a big ol' loop and found myself doing a strange half-yell which turned into something that sounded like panting!

Me? An MFA candidate in Fiction at a prestigious program?

I promptly re-read...Wandered around in circles, called my Mom (after calling work and letting them know I'd be about fifteen minutes late--but GOOD news was to come)...

I hopped around... More strange half-yelling and then I started texting like a crazy fool. I re-read the tiny screen...and went to work.

Pinch me?

1. A
2. A
3. F
4. G YES!!!
5. G
6. H
7. M :(
8. W :(
9. V
10. V

And as you can see, I still have seven more schools to hear from--which is very exciting and less nerve wracking...of course, I can't go to G without funding, read: a TA position (which involves a successful interview)....FREAK OUT!

But I'm going to revel in happiness for now....HAPPY, HAPPY-ness!

(my Godiva heart is gone...it was GOOD...and apparently I'm worthy of possessing hearts... )

~~J

Yup: I Did It!!

THERE WAS:
--"behind the scenes" business of forming a line, underground at the FedEx Forum

--listening to nervous conversations about grades, finals, and wearing the wrong shoes


--seeing classmates, celebratory hugs
--thumbing through programs to see if our names were there
--fixing mortarboards w/ extra bobby pins
--keen recognition of the clock...it's ten o'clock, it's ten o'clock on the dot

Which brought about:

--Pomp and Circumstance
--trying to find loved ones in the throngs of people
--Anthems and speeches
--collectively moving our tassels from left to right
--doctoral hooding(s) & collectively getting upset if it was crooked
--hoping no one tripped across the stage
--listening for mispronunciations (and chiding the pronouncer)
--waving at classmates as they strolled by
or
--hooting as they walked across the stage





Suddenly--









*I was strutting across the stage,
*shaking Dr. Raines' hand,
*getting my empty diploma cover,
*having another photo taken,
*wandering back to my assigned seat...REALIZING it all went by WAY TOO FAST!


Before we knew it, we were singing the Alma Mater, squealing or throwing our caps. We were waving like rock stars or drifting around in a daze.

Congratulatory remarks were flying around our heads. We were a big group of the same energy--in elevators, discarding our gowns. Passing people in small corridors...smiling and relaxed.

I took more photos (but really, I didn't take nearly enough)...there were yummy sandwiches from Fino's...and the world's greatest NAP before checking grades AGAIN (still waiting on one)...

Then a tableful of friends, food, and drink....THEN GIFTAGE!? I have the most thoughtful group who spoil me something rotten (all inclusive list):

a lapdesk? YES!
alcohol? YES! (coffee & vodka! wine!)
pens? YES!
intial mug? YES!
Starbucks cards and B&N cards...
"Word Lover's Dictionary" (be still my beating heart!)
Yummy chocolate!
a pilfered glass goblet (how did that end up in there?)
another book of...WORDS!
$$$

The love and support is enough, surely it is enough! :D

~~J

UPDATE (as it happens): Dean't List!

Close to the Edge!

Sure, I have another large paper/project to complete.

And there might be half a dozen mini-abnormal psych assignments and two finals to go—BUT there is no more classroom time standing between me and my degree.

AMAZING!

Today was my last class day and I admit—it was a bit difficult to LEAVE the English building.

I took my time, waited around for a friend, bought another bottle of water, read the campus paper, went to the bathroom, watched the head of the department leave...

then it was time.

As I was rushing down the back steps, I accidentally took a picture with my phone.

No, really. It was an accident--

BoysenBerry has side buttons and one is programmed to activate the camera...

I heard a *click*...then I smiled and realized it would be an interesting photo to have...I guess.

It's a bit blurry, but you can probably figure it out. Don't look too hard, because it kinda makes you dizzy (or at least it does me).

The last fiction workshop was filled with a lot of advice from Papa Bausch--I gotta share these with ya...(and I'm sure I'll be coming back to read and reread these pearls myself):

"Robert Frost gave himself twenty years to become a published poet. It took him ten and his first book was a best seller--but he gave himself twenty years..."
(if at first you don't succeed--try, try again!)

"Stories are never complete, they are just abandoned."
(stop revising and submit the thing!)

"You will spend your life proving your talent to people that have no talent."
(rejection letter after rejection letter)

"If you believe in your story--give it every single chance."
(resubmit, resubmit, resubmit)

"It's all about the life on the page..."
(of course it is!)

"Don't worry yourself into silence, keep the pot boiling!"
(keep on writing and writing and writing)

"What you're doing is important, don't let anyone tell you differently."
(amen!)

~~J

p.s. for those of you who REALLY know me--if you caught IT up there: yes he is, and no that's not why it was time to go. my phone just happened to be out, he went out the other way.

Dreamland:

Last night I had a terrifying dream about taking the GRE! And the strange part is I wasn't even thinking about it when I went to bed (not consciously).

I felt confident after taking a practice exam yesterday afternoon. I did better than I had done all summer long. My "percentile" was acceptable.

In the dream: I was taking the exam on a strange computer. All the questions were so much easier than expected.

My genius had me light years ahead of every human thought. But the keyboard wasn't working and the mouse was going haywire.

In other words, I couldn't physically pick the "right" answers.

The ones I THOUGHT were "right."

AAAAHHHHHHH!

Photo credit goes to....??? It's a found snapshot while browsing Square America. (Get over there! You'll be amazed at "our" amateur work)

I didn't even find the website on my own. That credit goes to the author, Katherine Center. And as if being a published author wasn't enough, if you take a gander at her website you will see how the threads of creativity weave together a fantastic woman.

I submitted ON PURPOSE the first part of an application to another graduate school yesterday--by the way. Very satisfying. I might even do another one today, just because!

~~J

Luck be a Lady:

(or a Dorothy, or a Glinda, or an Allison)

Before heading down to Tunica on Saturday I *tweeted* that mantra and or phrase (no lie) and just a few hours later...

ching ching ching!

We walked the entire floor of the Horseshoe (I asked for directions) looking for my favorite slot machine. "Check the front of the house, honey."

Just because I have a "favorite" doesn't mean I frequent casinos or have a problem, by the way.

My favorite is a video PENNY machine based on The Wizard of Oz.

Typically I can play and play and play (and lose and lose and lose) for a couple hours and not feel cheated (punny), this means I break even.

Found Online: The bonus is initiated when an Emerald City Bonus Symbol appears on reels 1,3, and 5. From there, you choose one of the three symbols in order to receive one of the following: the Emerald City Bonus, the Flying Monkey Wild Bonus or just an instant credit reward.

That makes the game sound a wee bit complicated and or doesn't really let the excitement of the "BOINK BOINK BOINK" shine through...(sound of Bonus Symbols).

Then there is the "My magic is very powerful" phrase spoken by Glinda as she appears in her bubblegum pink floating orb--just in time to render some of the reels as WILD!

But let me just cut to last night. We find the desired machines, we wait and wait (only about twenty minutes) for one to open up and I slide in for the kill!

I lose the first two bills I fed into it quickly (nevermind...) I boldly feed in two more...(boldy could be substituted for stupidly any other night)...OKAY! Fine, they were $20s!

I'm down to my last $9.30 and I think my pulse has hit a new "high score" record of it's own when FINALLY it starts happening. I don't remember the order of events:

It was a big blur of flying monkeys and dancing emeralds. Dorothy and the Scarecrow made an appearance and even Glinda swooped in a few times. A crowd was behind me, Allison was helping me make choices...

I remember screaming. I remember making bets and talking through how "far down" I would go before stopping. At one point there was ----->

(notice the poor representation of my smiling face...I look like an idiot in the original)

When it was all said and done, I cashed out a voucher for $37.90 less than this picture...wha wha what?

Oh yeah! The Cashier asked me how I wanted my "winnings" and all I could do was stand there and ask, "What do other people do?"

Like I said, not an expert gambler...Kenny Rogers won't be singing my praises anytime soon!

So we raced to the car....I think I said, "We gotta Cash it and Dash it--that's my version of Take the Money and Run!"...because we had a CONCERT to get to....

The night was so awesome, it's going to get two entries...
~~J

p.s. My new found wealth has turned into a much desired and needed netbook!

Can I just borrow your cape?

Two entries in one day and then it all falls flat—I know, forgive me Reader (YOU, again).

I’ve been “less scholarly” today.

I went to lunch with a friend, (beer in the afternoon on a weekday? Scandalous!) and then we “ran errands” for a couple hours. The running of errands wore me out.

The heat index? 110.

She typically does this with a 22-month-old in tow (not the beer part)--I can barely lug myself in and out of the car without throwing a tantrum myself, she's Wonder Woman!

Then I realize that SIX of my 11 grad school choices are also in the South. I love the South, don't get me wrong--but the weather (%&*@!) I will NEVER get used to the weather!

Speaking of graduate school, the whole idea of sending out portfolios and writing samples makes me feel like the proverbial 13-year-old "holding up the wall" at the junior high dance, while awkwardly screaming on the inside:

"Please, one of you 11, PICK ME, PICK ME!"

Friends, co-workers, and family members tell me "don't worry, you'll get in..." But I still have a strange feeling that come March I'll be flinging my alcohol-soaked body off the Hernando de Soto Bridge (that's the "new" bridge, to us local folks):

Here's a black & white artsy photograph from the banks of the river at sunset. This is what I'll see as I crash down.

At least it will be pretty for a split second. (I took this picture!)

I kid, of course.

But I do admit that I've had some form of this conversation with a fellow writer (she's already been accepted into an MFA program--she starts in a couple months)...on several occasions already.

She says she will jump right alongside with me. Don't worry--I'll have printed out a manifesto and everything I've ever written--I'll surely get published then!

(Don't check on me, really, I'm fine!)

I will be taking a GRE practice test tomorrow though. How is THAT for scholarly? Hopefully it will go well. I know it will go well, I am invincible! I am woman--I just have to borrow a cape, give me a moment.

~~J

Her latest Piece of Work:

(Laura Zigman matched for her latest book)

By her own account, best-selling author Laura Zigman likes to brant. There is even a mock dictionary definition on her website to help get the point across:

brant (brant) v.i. - to simultaneously brag and rant.

After four novels which sold, according to Zigman “not nearly as much as you might think” (actually several hundred thousand copies worldwide, taking into account foreign editions), she was in a self-described period of “failure” when her latest project presented itself.

brant (brant) n. - a shared on-line journal where people can post brags and rants about themselves and their personal experiences, opinions, observations, and feelings.

Be it about meeting Hugh Jackman (on the set of the movie adapted from her first book), celebrating Christmas as a non-Christian or organizational-porn, Zigman shares a lot of funny details of her life with her fans in her personal brant.

Writing about her “new favorite television show” during the summer of 2007, something unexpected happened. One of the people reading intimately knew the show Zigman was discussing.

Jessica Novak was online searching the name of her mother’s television series. She clicked a link directing her toward Zigman’s website and brant. She forwarded the link to Joshua Seftel.

As manager of Patti Novak, the matchmaker of A&E’s “Confessions of a Matchmaker,” Seftel alerted Zigman that they had seen her website and musings about the show. A standing invitation to meet Patti Novak was extended.

branted, brant-ing, brants intr.v. To write entries in, add material to, or maintain a (we)brant.

Of course, Zigman branted about her luck online in typical third-person fashion, “Would she be interested? She felt like she was on Candid Camera.”

The television show chronicled the popular Buffalo-based matchmaking service. Zigman drove from her home outside of Boston to meet Patti in New York while she was in the city appearing on an episode of the CBS Early Show.

Although Patti had not read any of Zigman’s work prior to meeting her, the connection between the two was obvious, especially to Patti’s daughter.

“They instantly clicked and have similar views on a lot of things.” Jessica said, “I don't think I've ever heard them disagree.”

So they joined forces and several phone calls, legal pads, and thick black Sharpies later—a basic outlining for the book based on Patti’s gift for matchmaking was complete. Zigman was ready to start writing.

“We assumed it would be just a book about dating, but it turned into something with much more substance.” Zigman said.

While in the researching phase, she made the drive to Buffalo several times, even sitting in on five to six coaching sessions between the matchmaker and her clients.

“My job was to put Patti in book form.” Zigman said, which she admits was not difficult because “she has a distinct voice.”

Now appearing at a bookstore near you, “Get Over Yourself: How to Get Real, Get Serious and Get Ready to Find True Love” (Ballantine) is three-fourths self help book and one-fourth dating guide.

It contains basic background information on the matchmaker along with relationship history worksheets, and dating tips.

“It is indeed a self help book,” Zigman said, “but it really is a book about love.”

Write Out Loud!

Dear,

...

I love you. No, really I do. Here is my story:

So I read somewhere recently that the "art of writing" is dead. I mean the ACTUAL art of HANDwriting. I feel the irony, yes, being that I am BLOGGING about the death of HANDwriting...but stay with me on this one.

I like love to WRITE. I've practice my handwriting skills along with my signature (which naturally leads to practicing my autograph so I can hand-sign books effectively one day). I've looked at the samples of "famous" and "infamous" writers. I've tried to analysis my own hand even.

Part of the problem of writing though, is not that I'm left-handed (therefore, right-brained)...although it can be a challenge especially when there is ONE possible desk in a classroom to sit at...EVEN in college--I have issues.

(maybe it is a problem, but you can't help me there)

Part of the problem of writing though (and this is where You come into play, Sharpie), is the actual writing instrument. Working in the medical field, I am usually surrounded by “free” pens until they grow legs and walk out of the building, at least. Some of these pens are wonderful, some are not so great.

Then there is the SHARPIE. I simply adore the classic fine point permanent marker. I've tried to even use it to take notes or write in my journal. However, you know as well as I do that it bleeds through paper…WAIT! There is now a Sharpie pen and it is:

*designed not bleed through paper (depending on the paper)

*smear resistant when dry

*permanent on paper

*quick drying

*water resistant

Watch as I throw confetti into the air and do a little dance!

I was so excited that this afternoon I purchased way too many Sharpie pens (but it is a tax-free weekend)! I also bought a few packages of the classic fine point permanent marker in enough colors to paint the world fantastic. An addiction, I know.

The moral of this little tale-turned-Sharpie commercial? (which may not be not half as exciting as the time Shane Battier asked me about my Sharpie metallic silver fine point pen as he was autographing my Grizzlies basketball)

I can NOT wait to take notes using your pens! I love you, Sharpie!

xoxo,

~~J

NYT mention:

So I don't think this means I can officially say I've been featured in The New York Times (Sunday Book Review), but by way of default:

I've been featured in the The New York Times!

Actually I'm not really featured in the article, but I'm quasi-mentioned in the same breath as author Laura Zigman. And being as she is a literary hero of mine (and my Den Mother *snort*), I couldn't be more honored.

I even get to be the "dropped out of college" girl. Of course we all know I'm back in school, I guess the author of the article didn't get the memo.

And as far as the "bucking up" is concerned, that phrase makes me laugh uncontrollably.

~~J

p.s. Kudos again to Marlene and her mad "screen cap" skills!

New Friend #9:

Proof that my favorite contemporary author (LAURA ZIGMAN) thinks I'm brant-able (her super cool word for blogging and ranting outloud)...

Since I can't get the screen caption from her site much bigger, I am including the text for you to read:


Laura’s going a bit outside the box here with NF #9 — Janet — a person she knows only from Myspace. Janet is younger than Laura (big surprise: everyone is younger than Laura), and lives in Memphis, TN, where she’s working a job-job before going back to school to finish her degree in English and Journalism, or English and Creative Writing (Laura really should do her homework before she starts writing about someone). Janet also wants to write, and Laura hopes she gives it a go since Janet is obviously a passionate reader and all good writers are passionate readers.

Laura can’t even remember who started emailing first (Laura assumes she herself started when she “found” Janet [through a process of searching for her name to see who if anyone on Myspace had included her in their list of “favorite authors”] and Janet was good enough to write back) but after a few back-and-forths they exchanged stories and Laura found out that Janet was going through that incredibly horribly rough and misery-inducing phase known as “the late 20s” when everything sucks and it seems like it’s never going to get better. But Laura is certain that Janet’s life is going to improve tons really really soon.
In the meantime, before Janet gets completely carried away with her soon-to-be-fabulous life, spending lots and lots of time with all the new friends she’ll make at school and doing all sorts of cool college stuff and completely forgetting about anyone on Myspace (“Myspace? What’s Myspace??”), Laura feels very lucky to have such a lovely pen-pal*

*For people Janet’s age who might not be familiar with this rather antiquated term, “pen-pal” means “someone with whom one exchanges letters.”

copyright Laura Zigman 2007

p.s. Thanks for help with the Screen Caption, Marlene!