The Scene In Which Jane Has An (Everlasting) Heart Condition

Meet Jane.

Jane's got a dream. She's got ambition. She's got "that thing" you can't help falling in love with.

Which brings us to another thing Jane's got.

A heart condition...one that many of you are probably familiar with.

Love.

And Jane? She fell hard.

She wrote about the experience and let me take a sneak peek into one of her diaries. This entry, from 2009, was written shortly after Jane moved to the Big City of Chicago.

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October 15th, 2009

OKAY! So I have officially living away from everything I've ever known and loved for exactly 2 months 5 days and 4 hours...something like that! I am finding myself to be someone that I don't recognize anymore, sort of. Does that make sense?

My roommates Becky* and Les are great, well I don't see Becky that much but Les is one of the best friends I've got here. He is amazing! The other day he was making me breakfast, which was awesome by the way, he was saying something and I just remember getting lost in what he was saying all I could see was (prepare yourself for some awesome cheesiness) his giant smile! Seriously he just.....just...he brings me to a loss! He is one of those people that walks into a room and makes that room just a little more enjoyable to be in. When he's not home all I wonder if or when he's gonna get home....and who he might bring home(which is a whole other thing). I am sure I am just feeling this way because of the recent break up with Noel and moving to a new city blah blah blah. I mean just because I think he's amazing doesn't mean we have to "be" together ya know? Plus he is one of those guys/people that breaks your heart over and over again!

So my two goals this month are 1. Put Les in the friend zone 2. Find publisher in Chicago 3. Word of the Month: feckless.

-Jane

PS: Noel won't stop calling me!
PSS: Noel has made feckless attempts at getting me back....(I think that's right...hmmmm...)

*Becky who writes this blog is not Jane's roommate.

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Now, if you're anything like me, you want to know what happens to Jane. Does she get back with Noel? Does she fall for Les? Is Les the guy who breaks her heart? Does she use "feckless" correctly?

I know I want to find out what happens to Jane, but if you want to know, here's what you have to do:

Fund the ending of her story.

You see, while Jane is a love-loving loveable gal, she's also the brainchild of writer Stephanie Wyatt, director Drew Pientka, and producer Kelli Weber.

And without YOUR help, Jane may never find her love....or finish her film.

So what can YOU do? Log on to Kickstarter.com and pledge to donate $10, $50, $100, $1000, or whatever you can afford towards Jane's condition. The film needs to raise $15,000 between now and July 18th.

If they do, you'll get to find out how Jane's story ends.....and if they don't, you'll be left wondering forever (though, as a cool Kickstarter feature, if they don't reach their goal you won't be charged what you pledged).

You can watch an unedited teaser of the film, plus an interview with Stephanie Wyatt and "Les" (Matt Devine) on the site, plus learn more about what they need- namely, as Matt says, for everyone to "pony up some dough!"

Please join me in backing Jane in her crusade for love!!

The Scene In Which My Sacrifice Has Not Pleased The Gods (aka...Baby Birds Part 2)

Here's the thing.

I'm really starting to worry that the birds are out to get me.

It started last year, when devoted readers might recall I survived a vicious seagull attack while vacationing in Italy.

I'm still mocked for this.

Then, as you may recall, back in April I had an unfortunate run-in with several baby birds (if you haven't read the story, it's about halfway through the post) resulting tears, guilt, and the worst trip ever to Lowe's.

In an attempt at karmic retribution, I slaved over making this for the birds who call my yard home, and modestly thought that my offering, though humble, would appease the wrath called down upon me.

IT HAS NOT.

Because now, an adorable robin has decided that the wooden planter on my porch would be an excellent spot to build a nest.

And lay eggs.

And NOW, I have more baby birds on my conscience. Because every time we leave the house, we scare Mom off the nest. Every time we come home, we scare Mom off the nest. Every time I let Finn out, I scare Mom off the nest.

And from what I hear, when Mom's eggs hatch she's going to become a protective sort. The sort who, rather than just flocking to the nearest tree for a moment, is going to start dive-bombing me as I try to enter the house.

So I'm going to scream and wave my arms around like a crazy person. And then I'm going to scare her away with my smell and Finnigan is going to scare her and the cute little eggs that have hatched into cute little babies might die and I'm going to be responsible and I'm going to cry.

So you see, I need to appease the birds. And quickly.

Suggestions are welcome.

The Scene In Which Apparently Asian Porn Stars Are Reading My Blog

If you've made a comment lately, you've noticed that I've taken away the "unmoderated" comment ability and replaced it with the "Becky will have to approve this comment" notification.

This is because Asian porn stars have been reading my blog.

Or, rather, Asian porn star website bots have been automatically commenting on my blog.

Because, you know, I don't really think Asian porn stars are reading my blog.

And while I do enjoy that they take the time to write witty little mots ("Forgive others, but not yourself!" was a favorite- awesome for the self-esteem) I'd rather they just left my little bloggy alone so that the rest of you non-porn-star promoting peeps could comment without the hassle.

Do you have a blog? If so, how do you get rid of this while still allowing for the "conversation" that comes with blogging?

The Scene In Which The Insects Are Taking Over

Has anyone else noticed that, regardless of where you hang your hat these days, it's been a really buggy spring and summer?

(Ok, maybe not totally regardless of where you hang your hat, because I'm betting that in, say, Antarctica the mosquitoes aren't stinging too badly yet- but who knows!)

In our house, it started in early April with the minor appearance of about ten ants on our windowsill in the kitchen. We put out a trap, sprayed some Raid, and voila- problem solved.

Yeah right.

Pretty soon the ants were taking over where the mice left off this winter (thankfully) turning the kitchen into their new playspace.

A call to Circle City Pest Control remedied this mess with a natural solution safe for pets (awesome).

But it's not just the ants. Ohhhhhhh no.

(Cue the dark, ominous music.)

We've had two large spiders (and by large I mean, put your thumb and forefinger together in a circle type large) one of which I'm pretty sure was a wolf spider and, according to Cute Boy, virtually exploded when he whapped it with a magazine.

We've had a ton of moths, about ten times as many as we usually do, congregating around the outdoor lights and trying to find their way in.

And speaking of things flying around, OHMYGOD are there FLYING ANTS?!?! Because I'm pretty sure that's what those things look like and EW! Killed a good thirty or so of those in the last few days around the door.

(Cue scene of me crouching down to unlock my door and rushing inside frantically shaking out my hair after slamming the door shut.)

Can we talk creepy-crawlies? While I -thankfully- haven't killed any earwigs in the house this season, they HAVE take up residence in my new cedar birdfeeder. I'm not sure what to do about them and, as a result, haven't fed the birds in about a week.

(Side story: as I write this, my skin is LITERALLY crawling. I've stopped a good three or four times to shimmy around and scratch my arms. Eeeeeuuuuugggh!!!)

Luckily I have the Internet at my disposal (that is, until the rabid mutant bugs chew through the lines outside....) and have found this great list and these good tips for ridding yourself of common household pets.

However, I'd really love to know if everyone else is experiencing a buggy season right now, or if I'm due for another application of pest control to the outside of the house. How are the bugs at YOUR place this year?

The Scene In Which We Have A Perfect Day (And Then Lose Some Brain Cells) And Other Random Things.

Today was a lovely day!

Following some drunken debauchery fun times at a wedding last night, Cute Boy was feeling a bit rough this morning. Having enjoyed myself as well - on top of delivering two events and setting up a wedding that morning - I was a little slow on the upstart too.

(Random side story? I did NOT have sore feet, because at the wedding last night, they had awesome baskets full of flip-flops for all the girls to change into! BEST IDEA EVER!)

Back to the morning.

First off, I slept in.

Which means "later than 7AM."

It was awesome.

Then I made amazing french toast with the world's best cinnamon bread and we crashed on the sofa, tuning into and then (wait for it) actually watching the entire "Amy Fisher: My Story."

I blame french toast coma.

At any rate, around hour 3 of laying on the couch I started to feel like I was in danger of my ass becoming permanently glued to the seat, so I dragged Cute Boy up and we headed to Holiday Park for a walk with Finn, who, ohmygodLOVED running in and out of the river.

(This exists!! In INDIANAPOLIS!! Doesn't it make you think of strolling around in European parks?? Love.)

(On the pillars at Holliday Park - my new favorite quote!)

(Finnigan is so stinkin' cute!!)

We met up with Cute Boy's sister and her pup Olly and then had a looooong late lunch at Plump's in Broad Ripple, which BTW? two thumbs up on the wraps.

And then we came home and turned on - wait for it - The MTV movie awards.

And for the past hour have been watching and listening to such brainiacs as Nicole "Snooki" from Jersey Shores (who, when outside on the red carpet, presented an award prior to the show and then looked behind her for the celebs to appear to collect it ROTFLMAO) and Kristin Stewart, who is really excited about winning her award "I guess."

I really, really, really do not want to watch Jersey Shores in Miami this summer, but I have a sinking feeling I'm going to wind up hooked.....if only so I can see it if that crazy short girl gets punched again. Who's with me???

The Scene In Which I Laugh Every Time I Read This

For those of you who have never lived in Chicago, John Kass is a fairly hilarious columnist. This column was one that someone forwarded to me several years ago. I've recieved it a couple times since then. This morning, as I was cleaning out old emails I found a draft of it that I apparently meant to forward to someone (several years ago, truth be told!) and thought you'd appreciate the chuckle. I believe this first printed in 2002.


"MEMORY STUDY FORGETS THE MALE 'UH-HUH' FACTOR"
-John Kass

American universities are once again aggravating the heck out of me with another foolish study.

It belongs in the Women Remember Everything and Are Smarter than Men Department, as if men didn't know this already.

Neverthless, researchers at Stanford University were determined to rub it in.

The showed groups of women and men a series of photographs designed to evoke emotional responses, and the shrinks then used scientific gadgets to measure blood flow in the brain.

Pictures included fire hydrants, landscapes and a corpse- even a horrific bathroom scene. "A picture of a dirty toilet prompted a strong emotional response, especially from the women subjects," said a professor.

Men didn't get too worked up. I'm absolutely amazed.

Here are some of the findings:
1) Women have better memories than do men when it comes to emotional issues.
2) Women's brains allow them to recall these emotional issues with a finer degree of precision than do men, who really don't care.
3)Ergo, women remember spats with their husbands from 15 years ago and what their husbands failed to say, like "I'm sorry," and so it's always the guys' fault.

Which prompts me to offer my own conclusion: When it comes to remembering spats, men can't because we have tiny brains. And as we're being pelted by rememberances of things past, men's brains switch off involuntarily.

This prevents us from remembering what women told us. And women know when mens' brains have switched off because men say, "Uh huh, OK, yeah, uh huh," which infuriates them.

Clearly, the Stanford study is flawed. Though men dislike dirty tolets, women unfortunatley get stuck cleaning more of them because men are, well, selfish and evil.

And there are other flaws. For example, fire hydrants simply don't excite men.

Instead, they should have shown photos of a slice of Freddy's pizza in Cicero, the Chicago Bears logo, and a tasteful picture of Penelope Cruz.

The study "advances our understanding of the link between cognition and the underlying brain structure," researcher Diane Halprin said in a recent Associated PRess report.

Once she finished spewing shrink jargon, she got down to the fundamental issue: Women have infinitely finer memories for arguments than do their husbands.

"One reason for that is that a marital spat has more meaning for women, and they process it a bit more, "says Halprin.

They process it a bit more? Thats like saying China has a lot of Chinese people living there. As men sleep and snore, women lie awake at night, processing. They spring it on you when you're vunerable.

I've been with my lovely Sicilian bride for almost 20 years. And she teams up with my mom to remind me of what I can't remember.

Me: Hey! Let's go to the Sox game.

Lovely Sicilian: But we're all going to your cousin Nick's house for dinner.

Me: You didn't tell me. What cousin?

LS: Nick. We talked about it every morning this week. You kept saying, "Uh huh, OK, yeah uh huh."

Me: I don't have a cousin named Nick.

LS: Yes you do. Not the two Nicks from different restaurants, not the Nick the lawyer, not the Nick the bartender. The other Nick.

Me: Aw, can't we just go to the game?

LS: He married your cousin Angie. Not the Angie who's the artist. Not the Angie at the health club. The other Angie. We were at their wedding, remember?

Me: Of course not.

LS: We had an argument that morning. You wanted to go fishing instead, even though we RSVP'd. And you never apologized.

Me: When was that??

LS: Ten years ago this coming Saturday.

Me: You're making this up!

My Mom: No, she's not! I heard it. You agreed to go, and you said, "Uh huh, OK, yeah uh huh."

Me: I never said any such thing!

Mom: And in a fit of rage you demanded to go fishing, and you hurled a piece of toast with raspberry jam to the floor, scattering crumbs all about.

Me: Aieee!

LS: So there.

Mom: So there.

A few minutes ago, my wife called to warn me about today's column. She hates it when male columnists write about their wives, particularly when I do it.

"You're so unfair," sh said. "In these columns, you always play the child and I'm the mean adult and that's so untrue. And you always do it on slow news days."

Me: Really? I don't remember.

Ls: Yeah, there was the time when you were terrified of mice and the time that....

Me: Uh huh, OK, yeah uh huh.