for anna.

limerick inspired by writer extra-ordinary anna pulley's post A Bisexual's Lament

I had a dear friend in the city
who I just couldn’t help but to pity
for you see all the women
she put her interest in
only temporarily wanted the titty.

She would spend so much time with a chick
thinking she’d finally made a good pick
she’d chase them and win
get a good night’s fun in
only to learn they had eyes just for dick.

In these days of being sexually free
it can be difficult to see
when getting the eye
from a girl or a guy
do they want him, or her, he or me?

oh san francisco.

in other news i have a sudden urge to move to detroit.  who wants to come? (if you said "not me! no way no how!" watch this video - 

http://www.palladiumboots.com/exploration/detroit

love, jamie

cover letter.

       please.

i like you. i love your blog! i even followed you on twitter.

save me from the job i have now. my back hurts cuz my desk is too tall for me. i only get to interact with two people all day. no one leaves for lunch even though there isn't anything to do.

i wanna be surrounded by smart, funny, creative and energetic people that come up with ideas and make stuff up instead of emailing youtube videos across five feet of office space.

im a giver. if you take me away from here, i will be so so loyal. i will be like that girlfriend who is so afraid you are going to leave her that she makes your lunch everyday and laughs at your jokes and your friends' jokes and wears sexy football jerseys on sundays when they come over to make them jealous.

i'm a good person: i look both ways before i cross the street, i don't talk on the phone at the order counter and i hold doors open for people.

i'll ride my bike to work so you don't have to give me a commuter check.  i won't ever get sick.  if i'm late i'll feel really really bad about it.  i'll work really really hard.

additional cool-ness factors: i have a black belt (seriously), i'm in a band and i can (sort of) play the trumpet.

not only will i be an excellent employee, definite cool points will be added to the value of your company and i'm pretty sure that increases stock value.

hopefully yours (like, seriously, you can own me if you hire me),
jamie

on quitting smoking and stopping crying.

i quit smoking over a month ago.

i'm not going to be obnoxious and count it out to the minute and rub in how much money i've saved!!!!! cuz i'm still broke and i'm not good at counting.  but i DID quit and...it was really hard.  and it is still hard.  it is almost positively harder for my friends than it is for me and i apologize to them for that.  if i could go back in time and show my 18 year-old-self my 25 year-old-self whining and bitching and spitting fire at those closest to her i would, and then i probably wouldn't have started in the goddam first place.  but i can't.

so thank you for still loving me, or at least pretending to, even though i'm not as lovable as i was when there was nicotine coursing through my veins.  i promise i'm trying to get back to normal, it's just these darn brain chemicals.  science was never my strong subject and chemistry is hard.  hence, the crying.  and crying and crying and yes, it is all your fault.

it's possible that i am crying about a legitimate offense, or a real pain in my back, or a real frustration in my life.  however.  i am pretty damn sure that none of those things is worth seven, count 'em seven, days with break downs and crying.

i have always struggled with getting sad, and then sadder and then really really just bummed the fuck out until i can't get out of bed to save my life (translation: gpa/paycheck/job) and before i know it i have four huge zits on my face, no groceries and ten more pounds.   i have been like this since i hit puberty (thanks boobs.)
i know that when i get like this i am really hard to be around, and really hard to deal with - try living IN HERE.  it's not fun for me either.  but i have been doing so much better for the last year, thanks largely to the birth of my band and those two besties o' mine that came along with it.  quitting smoking has thrown a wrench into that streak of happy and the last two months have been pretty....uh...crappy.

but i've quit smoking. and my friends are still here. and i didn't gain fifty pounds in the process.  and it's gonna be ok.  i frickin' swear.  and i feel a lot better today.

OK/Not OK

How to Make OkCupiders Nervous.

Be an OkCreep.

I'm actually pretty impressed at the degree of weird attained by this guy at his young age (and can I emphasize young here? Like 18 years. Yup.)

  

Sorry

Jun. 22, 2010 – 8:23pm

(I guess I already wrote you an award, so here's another one lol)

"Jamck23’s is beautiful with ease, with the majestic wonder of foreign seas. Impressing her is not going to bees easy. This poetic award is starting to be a little cheesy; I hope I’m not coming off as sleazy.
Now for some compliments, I think you deserve some acknowledgments. Your profile is impressive, and I respect your reasons for joining this site, to bad I don’t live in San Francisco otherwise I could be happy to oblige. Moreover I just really thought you deserved an award."

So there you go.  Just one more person who won't get to see me naked.

PS - the quotations were put there by HIM. Not me. He quoted his own message.  

I'm in a rock band.

Go to our website for video, free downloadable (is that a word?) tracks and photos...Go! NOW! :D

Since all three of us have day jobs, or middle of the night jobs (Chris), our weekends are our time for glory.*

I am in charge of documenting these weekends. This is pretty important for me as my days off tend to blur together after a while; they get tangled up with my dreams... and what actually happened and what was conjured up by my sub-concious appear to me to be the same thing. Additionally, since I've quit smoking I've been wearing a pretty grumpy face, so it is out of consideration for all of us that I am not actually in a lot of these pictures, at least until I regain some sort of emotional tranquility again.

In other news, the balloons that Chris and Cristian bought me about...a month ago? are still floating. Magic.

So. These are the pictures I took.

*glory = playing music and drinking and all around trouble-making

About to set out on another musical adventure.



We found this awesome little spot at Dolores Park where we could be outside on a rare sunny day and still play music without interruption...but then attracted an audience of some sort...felt pretty special...





Where we go, the frame goes.




Classic long distance, long beard shot.




Same shot, different guy, less facial hair.


Our two new biggest fans.



In the studio, drumming up our new song.





Awesome picture: since you can only tell that I have a bad haircut.


Who is this guy?





So, with all this going on, I feel like I need to stand out more. Make myself unique in this overwhelmed world of imagery...hence: my duck-face/myspace pic. Comments?

I tried.





love, jamie

how to get fat in five steps or less.

I don't take the stairs at work, which you may want to judge me for once you find out that my office is on the third floor.  I also don't take the stairs at the Bart station, which is really only two flights of stairs.  But listen people!
I have a really good reason for this: I have made it a personal objective to stop flashing my butt crack at every lucky stranger I encounter through my day, and my work pants have gotten way too big. 
Hence! When I walk up stairs, my pants fall down. 
And! My hands are usually full.  I have to have my fastpass out to put in the machine thingy, and I have my coffee (which I WONT give up, especially since I just found out that coffee drinkers kill themselves only 1/2 as often as tea-totalers do -> coffee = life-saving-necessity)
So! I can't pull them up.
Double Hence! Buttcrack for all of San Francisco.

Which, if you think about it, is really awesome. Cuz that means that since I bought all my work clothes back in May, I have gotten skinnier!  And now cannot take the stairs...which means I'll probably get fat again...which means my pants will fit! And I can wait another year before I have to wander into H&M again.  So is this a good thing? Or a bad thing?  I can't tell.  All I know is that if you want to see my buttcrack from now on, you can get to know me on the elevator/escalator and maybe, if I like you, I'll give you a little peek.