Jason's Pet Monoblogue

2001-02-22T17:36:00.000-06:00

But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t. As difficult as it was, I went to the store's management, and told them what had happened. They called the cops and child protection services. I held Lilith the entire time, she didn’t cry, she didn’t whine, she just gurgled happily in my arms until four hours later, child protection took her away. Lilith broke my heart, once that lady took her from me, she let out an ear-piercing cry heard around the store. She cried all the way to the car, and as they drove away I could hear her for blocks. I look back and I ask, why? Why did Zoe think I was good enough for her girl? Or was she just crazy? I don’t know, never will. They never found Zoe, she had appeared in my life as easily as she had disappeared from the store. I did the right thing, but the right thing is never the easiest thing. I sometimes think about how my life would have been different if I kept Lilith or tried to adopt her, and where is she now? The truth is, she will never know her mother, or the woman who took care of her for four hours that day in the grocery store.

2001-02-15T17:22:00.000-06:00

The girl saw that I was admiring her child, so she came up to me and introduced herself. The girl’s name was Zoe, and she told me that she had run away from home a few months ago. Her family yelled at her constantly for having a baby so young, and for not making the father take any responsibilities for the child. The father left town right after Zoe told him that she was pregnant. She wanted her baby to grow up in a loving house, so she left her parents’ place, and has been roaming ever since. Her little baby’s name was Lilith. Zoe asked me if I had any children, I said unfortunately no, and I explained to her the reason and the situation. We talked some more and she asked if I would like to hold the baby, I said that I would be delighted, and she gave Lilith to me. A few minutes later, Zoe told me that she had to go pick up some diapers and asked if I would take care of the baby, since she will be right back. I said fine, so I stood there in the frozen food isle with little Lilith in my arms. I remember cradling warm little Lilith in my arms, and the delight of holding a child. It was wonderful. I waited there for a while, and realized that Zoe had been gone for quite some time, so I went to go look for her. I went over to the canned goods aisle, no Zoe, the diaper aisle, no Zoe, back to the frozen foods, no Zoe to be found. I looked everywhere for her, she had disappeared. She left me her child. She left her child in my care, she gave her child to me. I looked down at Lilith and, I actually thought for a second, for one split second...

2001-02-08T16:44:00.000-06:00

One day, years after the day at the doctors, I went to the grocery as I always did. I remember that I quickly walked into the store, because it looked like it was about to storm outside. The sky was really gray and I could smell the electricity building in the air. So, I ran inside, grabbed a basket and began to shop. I picked up a few things for dinner, and while I was in the frozen food section, I came across a young girl of about 16 with a large bag and a little baby. The girl didn’t look so well. She looked like she hadn’t seen a shower for a few weeks, and didn’t smell very nice either. Her baby was beautiful though. She had the baby wrapped up in a little pink blanket, with her pink lace bonnet on, and a little golden curl sticking out. She was one of the most beautiful babies I had ever seen...

2001-02-03T03:42:00.000-06:00

Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a mother. My mother gave me a baby doll when I was young, and like a little girl, I pretended that my baby doll was real. Her name was Crissy. I brought Crissy everywhere, I took her to the zoo, to the grocery, everywhere I went, Crissy was by my side.

When I married Harold, we had tried to have children but were unsuccessful. We went to the doctor, who ran some tests, and a week later we found out that I was barren. There was nothing the doctors could do. I was never to have a child of my own. I had to accept that this was my lot in life, not to have a child. I had to accept it, I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to accept it. I had to accept this contrary to everything that I had hoped for since I was a little girl. Harold was so supportive throughout the whole ordeal, and the months of depression that had followed. But I knew, I knew that Harold was disappointed. Disappointed with me, disappointed not to ever have a child that we could call our own. A child that was born of our love. And it was never to happen. After a few months, we never spoke of children again...

2000-12-13T23:31:00.000-06:00

Well, Mah-jongg night was canceled last Monday due to the fact that Rose couldn’t make it. She said that her husband Randy had a bowling league meeting and she had to stay home with the kids. Rose’s children are so beautiful. That little Randy Jr. is an angel whereas Ruth merely has the face of an angel. Ruth is a handful, but a very sweet child.

Anyway, since Rose couldn’t make it Sylvia, Miriam and I sat around playing Canasta and eating Chex Mix instead. We had a wonderful time. I even went unlocked the liquor cabinet and we had a few highballs, no big whop.

It seems like we’ve been having Mah-jongg Mondays forever. I remember when we started having Mahjongg Mondays. It was only a few years after my dear Harold died. Mimi knew I was going though some hard times. And I turned to Mimi and told her about how bored and lonely I was, and I said that I had nothing to look forward to. I wasn't going out, or doing anything for that matter. Bingo was boring me, mall jogging with her in the mornings wasn't cutting it. I was disinterested in everything. I wanted to let loose, but I didn't know how. Then Mimi came up with the idea of Mahjongg Mondays. Invite some friends over, have a few drinks and play Mahjongg. It was great.

When I was a child, I never remember Mahjongg being any fun. Mother taught me to play during family affairs when I was a little girl. I hated it back then, because I had to listen to all my aunts complain about their arthritis, their bunions or their sciatic nerve acting up. I also had to keep an eye on grandma, 'cause she started with her alzheimer’s and she would wander away from the table to talk to the potted plant for a few minutes. Then I'd have to get grandma and tell her, "Grandma, the pot's not playing this round, you are."

I’m so glad that we’ve been getting together for the past few years. I wouldn’t be doing much social activity if it wasn’t for game night.

Well, I gotta go. David Letterman is on, and I just thought that I would write something during the commercial break.

2000-12-09T01:48:00.000-06:00

Harold died 20 years ago, as of December 17. There isn't a day goes by that I don't think of him. People say that time heals all wounds. I say they don't heal fast enough, and they never heal completely.

I've been fine for the past few years. I usually make my way out to Shady Pines to visit his grave on our anniversary. I sweep the leaves off of his headstone. Re-pot the begonias near his grave, then I sit there and talk to him. He will never leave me completely. To this day, I catch myself occasionally turning the corner to the living room and expecting to see him, see my Harold sleeping in front of the TV.

I'm happy that I have my dear friend Miriam to turn to. I call her Mimi. She's my oldest friend. We grew up together. We would play together as children, dolls, jacks, jumprope, kiss the boys. Mimi is the one I turn to. She has always been there for me. When I met Harold, she warned me that I would fall in love with him. She said that I talked about him as though he was the only person alive. She was right, and she has been with me all along.

Thank you Mimi. I love you.

Also, Mimi, please remember to bring the Chex Party Mix to Mah-jongg night on Monday. I'm running low and I don't feel like leaving the house, it's too cold. Anyway, please send me a letter, we need to talk...

2000-12-08T05:15:00.000-06:00

So, I cleaned. At first I cleaned for the sake of cleaning. Then I just cleaned not to think about Harold. Then I cleaned to keep myself from crying.

After the house was spotless, I sat at the kitchen table again, frantic. I lit a cigarette and waited. I waited for what seems to have been for hours, at the table cigarette after cigarette, thinking of him, waiting. The phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I answered the phone. "Harold?" The voice on the other line wasn't Harold. It was a young man from the coroners office telling me that they had a body down there believed to be my husband. "Could I come down there to identify it?" I said, "Of course." I didn't even have to go down there, I knew it was my Harold. So I went to the bathroom, fixed my hair, fixed my liner, wrapped a scarf around my neck, and was out the door. All the way there, I was praying for it not to be Harold, but I knew, I knew.

I parked the car, told the officer at the door who I was, and he took me to a man in a little, white lab coat, then he escorted me down a long corridor. The door opened and there he was, lying there on that metal table. The harsh florescent light, illuminating him like an angel. I approached Harold and stood there, silently waiting a few minutes. I took his hand, it had grown cold. I wanted to ask the man how long Harold had been there, but he was gone. I looked back at Harold, layed his hands back down and kissed his lips one last time and left.

I couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. It felt like a horrible dream. He, was everything to me. He was everything...

2000-12-07T04:57:00.000-06:00

I’ve been thinking about the day he died, recently. That morning, Harold left his wallet on the dresser again, he was always forgetting something, if it wasn't his wallet, then it was his keys, if it wasn't his keys, it was something else. Anyway, I remember, it was a friday, at about 4:00, I started fixing dinner. It took him awhile to wam up to my cooking, but he grew to love it. I always had dinner ready for him when he came home, and everything was going well, I was watching Oprah, and checking on the food every few minutes. Well, when Oprah was over, I turned off the burners, took off my apron, fixed my hair, checked my liner, and lit a cigarette at the dining room table, while pretending to flip through Mademoiselle while I waited for Harold. I flipped through the magazine for a few minutes and an article caught my eye on What your bedroom says about you. It said that much of one's personality can be learned by how clean your room is and what you have in it...

Anyhow, when I finished my article, I went to the kitchen and I noticed that all of the food was stone cold. I looked at the kitchen clock and saw that it was 7:15, Harold was more than an hour late. It was unlike Harold to ever be late. So, I figured that he was just caught up at work. That would occasionly happen, but he always called first.

I decided not to call, I figured that he was probably busy, and I didn't want to disrupt him. So I went back to the dining room, and I sat at the table, waiting. When I couldn't take it any longer, I decided to clean the house up a bit, we had that little party the night before, so the place could use a little touch-up. So, I got out the windex, the lemon oil, Lysol, 409 and the Pine Sol, and got to work...

2000-11-30T02:14:00.000-06:00

I was thinking of Harold the other day. I came home from the market. It was on Saturday past, and every Saturday I would come home from the market with the groceries for the week. Then I’d say, "Harold, why don’t you put down the remote, get off your lazy ass, and help me with these god damn groceries." Then he’d say, "Don’t make me get off my ass, and give you what you really deserve." And I’d say, "Oh yeah!? What’s that?" He’d say, "A kiss." And then he’d bring the rest in, himself. I miss him. No I mean I really miss him. Everyday that I wake up in bed, alone, I miss him. Every time I make a pot of coffee now, 4 cups, not 12. I miss him. I miss the bickering everyday over wheat bread or rye, or anything else for instance. The bickering, the fighting, God I miss the fighting. I miss the tanktops everywhere, the track-stained underwear, the toilet set up, everything. They were all reminders of him...

2000-11-19T01:21:00.000-06:00

Will the rain ever stop here? I've been cold and wet all day. And thanks to my mother for giving me a flu shot, I now have a very sore right arm. Misery, misery, misery...

On a more positive note:
The other day I watched The Breakfast Club and Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? with my friend Mike. Everyone has seen Breakfast Club, so we won't go there. But Virginia Woolf, now there's a movie. I forgot how brilliant Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton were on-screen. One of my all-time favorite scenes is after the bar scene when they both go outside to duke it out. The famous "snap" scene. I was riveted in seeing two tremendous actors flex their performing muscles in front of the camera. It's absolutely stunning.

I've had too much coffee tonight, my train of thought is about 3 cars shy.
I'm off to bed.

2000-11-15T16:13:00.000-06:00

I don't know why I've been listening to Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight so much recently. I listen to it every time I sit at my computer. I guess the change of weather makes people do strange things.

This weekend cured me of my high school nostalgia phase. My friend John Bel got tickets to a Rummel play, so we went. He said that a bunch of people from my graduating class would be there. Which sounded good. He also said that the play was written by my incompetent high school drama teacher. So I figured that we would go and just laugh at this ridiculous play and catch up on old times.

We were right about the play, it was wretched. It was an abomination of theater. The play was actually based on the graduating classes of '96 and '97. Only I thought it would be great so see everybody in the Genesians again. I was definitely wrong. Everyone broke up into their separate cliques. John and I were left out, again. So, we left to go out together and party.

Lesson learned here.
Nostalgia is much better than reliving the experience.

2000-11-14T00:57:00.000-06:00

I had an incredible experience this weekend. We filmed a few segments of the Scooby Witch Project this Saturday past. The filming went wonderfully all day. Dorian played the Mary Brown character flawlessly. I had to bite my lip a few times to keep from bursting out laughing. Kim and Jim played the bickering fishermen. I couldn't even watch their segment because I didn't want them to break character from my laughter. And of course, Veronica and her son were wonderful as the mother with the baby interview. The whole shoot went wonderfully.

I was very nervous the entire day about shooting my scenes. I had stayed up pretty late the night before. I was working on about 3-4 hours sleep. So, throughout the shoot, I was nervously looking at my lines for the final scene.

The final shot was the famous "snot/crying/apology" scene that Heather does towards the end of the Blair Witch Project. I was scared to death of shooting that scene. I didn't think that I could pull it off. I've never had to act in a scene where I had to cry. I tried not to think of that too much, I just tried to make sure that I had all of my lines down.

We drove out to LaPlace and ventured into the woods to shoot a few scenes out there.

The first couple of scenes flew by with no problem. Then it came time to shoot the snot,crying scene. I became extremely nervous at that moment. The sun was setting, the mosquitoes were out, the fake snot (Dial Anti-bacterial Soap) was burning my nose, and I was covered in bites. I had a feeling that I wouldn't be able to pull off the scene.

Flynn sat me down next to a tree. Timo held the camera and Richard held the flashlight. Then I pumped myself up for the scene and we shot the first take.

I completely broke. I got about half-way through the scene, then broke. No big deal, these things happen. So, we shot it again. I broke. And again. I broke. and again and again. We must have shot 4 or 5 takes and I couldn't do it.

The sun had disappeared, so Flynn and the rest disassembled the tent and took everything back to the car. Timo and Richard were left with me. We tried another take, it seemed fine, then I broke. I thought that we weren't going to get the shot. I thought that wee were all going to have to go home and shoot this later. I was really upset with myself. Timo and Richard saw that I was frustrated and left me to myself for a few minutes. I sat there by the tree in the darkness and started to well up a little just out of frustration. I looked over the script once, then I figured that I just go with it, and whatever happens, happens.
Richard and Timo came over, quickly got positioned, and started shooting. I got to a frantic state and started the scene.

I wasn't even concentrating on how I was saying the lines, I was just making sure that I said every word in the script. Then I got to the line "It's all my fault" and I believed what I said, and I started crying. I was actually believing every word that I was saying. I didn't even worry about the next word that came out of my mouth, they just came to me. Snot started pouring out of my nose and tears were rolling down my cheeks. It was a truely growing experience.

I finished the scene, I think word-for-word, and I couldn't stop crying. I felt that I had released something inside of me, and when the scene was over, I wasn't ready to stop releasing. I immediately hugged Timo and cried in his arms. He was trying to comfort me, by asking me what was the matter. I didn't have anything to say, because I didn't know why I was still crying. I then hugged Richard and cried on him also. Then I heard Flynn and the others clapping and yelling for me, "You go!!!" They came to our little cathartic circle and I had to hug everyone. I was happy and sad and relieved that it was all over.

I was excited before about The Scooby Witch Project, but now I just can't wait to mount the show. I really want to see how audiences respond to both shows. I hope favorably.

I really want to thank everyone that I have had the pleasure to work with for the past few months. It's been an amazing experience.

Thanks,
Jason

2000-11-10T23:59:00.000-06:00

I'm getting over a ferocious cold here in New Orleans. The weather drops 40 degrees in one day and everybody gets sick. It's strange how our bodies are completely dependant our environment. When the weather drops here two things happen.
1. People get crabby and sick
2. Everybody's nesting instinct kicks into high gear, and everybody starts prowling around

I guess 1 and 2 are closely related.

Tomorrow, I'm going to a filming with my friend Flynn for his new play the Scooby Witch Project. I am so completely exited to be working with him on this project. Working with him for the past 2 months has been a complete joy. He has reestablished my love of theater. Thank you Flynn.

2000-11-09T17:57:00.000-06:00

If this doesn't bring back some memories of bad teen TV programming, I don't know what will.

If you want more, go here.

2000-11-09T05:46:00.000-06:00

I’ve been thinking recently about my teenage years and my high school experience. I’ve been thinking about the times that I missed out on. I didn’t hang with the crowd that went on all-night drinking binges, or hotel parties. I’ve been thinking about regrets I have. I should have done this, or I should have done that, I should have done something. I felt that I didn’t party enough, or do anything enough for that matter. Regrets, regrets, regrets. I felt so insignificant, but that was the whole teen angst early-to-mid nineties bullshit. Every generation has to have a cause to fight for. Our cause was to listen to grunge music, wear flannel, and look as unappealing as possible.

So, I went over to The Den tonight. We hung out for a little while, but they left me to go to TJ’s. Mike suggested that I watch The Smashing Pumpkins Unplugged special that they taped earlier in the evening. I watched some TV, then turned on the tape.

They began the special with the song Today. I was watching the Pumpkins on TV, but I was 16 and standing in the crowd of Lollapalooza ’94. The sun had set after the Beastie Boys had finished playing, the wind began to pick up, so it was getting a little cold. I rushed the stage, so I could get a good view. I managed to squeeze up to the barricade by the right speaker. I waited around for a while, then the lights on the main stage dimmed, then swelled and the band members filed out to their respective spots onstage. They opened with some hard, fast, angry song that I don’t remember. But then they played Today. And I was standing there with hundreds of other angst-ridden teens, but I was alone and crying. I was crying for the sheer joy of seeing the only band that I cared about at the time. I felt like I was one of those Beatles girls pressed up against the barricade in those black and white movies my mom used to make me watch.

After they finished Today, I sat back in my chair and welled up a little, because I forgot about that experience of standing in the middle of the pit, yet feeling that I was special, that their music was played only for my enjoyment. Looking back, I realize that the Pumpkins were the soundtrack to my high school experience.

The only other memory that stands out as much as the previous one, was in the Fall of ‘95. I was rehearsing for the play The Nerd, and I asked my mom if she would bring me to get the new Smashing Pumpkins album, Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness. It was coming out the next day, but a certain store was selling it early. She said no, and I pitched a fit. I moped through rehearsal that evening, and then waited for my mom to come pick me up. She pulled up in our red Astrovan with my friend Michel sitting in the passenger seat. I thought that was pretty strange, she usually comes alone, but never with Michel. She stopped the van, and Mike opened the door with 2 copies of Mellon Collie in his hands. Mom had called Mike, picked him up, and they went all the way uptown to pick up a copy for both of us.
I still don’t think my mom really knows how amazing that gesture felt to me at that time.

I nearly forgot those wonderful memories of my teen years.

I have to remember, beneath all the bad times are a few good ones also.

2000-11-08T16:04:00.000-06:00

Thank you Richard for your little plug for my new blog. You've warmed the cockles of my eency weency heart. :)

I have bad news though. Are you ready? Dancer in the Dark has left Canal Place.

Ok, everybody. Calm Down! Everything's going to be just fine!

Actually, I'm really upset that I couldn't go see it one more time. Dancer in the Dark was truly phenomenal. Everything worked in the movie. It was beautifully shot. The locations and sets were true to the characters, you believed that the characters inhabited their surroundings.
The movie really shines in the editing. Lars Van Trier captures the perfect pacing for the movie. He makes the transitions into the musical numbers blazingly apparent in the beginning of the movie. Whereas towards the end of the movie, he makes the transitions less and less noticeable. (Trust me, this all makes sense when you see the movie.)

Then there was Bjork and Catherine. Need I say more? The last movie that I could think of where all elements of film-making achieved such harmony was Topsy-Turvy.

For those of you who haven’t seen Dancer in the Dark, hope that Movie Pitchers shows it before they close down. They are running on a day to day basis, since their lease is up. Visit their website and lend your support.

Either way rent Topsy-Turvy if you haven’t seen it, it’s brilliant also.

(Jason climbs down from his soapbox and stores it away for later usage.)

2000-11-08T01:34:00.000-06:00

Republicans, Republicans, Republicans,
Blah, blah, blah........................

2000-11-08T00:14:00.000-06:00

I’ve been sick at home for the past two days, so I’ve been stuck watching The Real World New Orleans. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’ve actually enjoyed some of the show. Even though I am tired of the Real World archetypes that MTV adheres to when casting the show. We have the cryer, sometimes we have 2, the drama queen, the asshole, the token gay, the mediator, the loner, the troublestarter... add all ingredients in a house, stir, then bake until the ratings come in. It’s all been played out already.

So why do I watch The Real World? I think the same reason people are interested in reality based programming, and reading weblogs...

By the way, who won the election?

2000-11-07T17:37:00.000-06:00

You know you have a nice healty crush/obsession, when you think of that person and your heart skips a beat.

2000-11-06T19:46:00.000-06:00

I just spent the past hour and a half trying to brush up my HTML so that I could change my template. Uhhh, it was extremely frustrating since I had to figure out Blogger HTML also.
The funny thing is that I was futzing over something pretty insignificant.
It's silly how we can go off sometimes on the littlest of things.

~jason~

2000-11-06T17:41:00.000-06:00

I don't like the feeling of becoming alienated from my home town. For years I have known that I don't completely fit into the suburban aesthetic of white picket fences and 2 1/2 children. So, I figured one day that I would move back to the city.

Lately I've been spending a majority of my time in New Orleans, by working out there, and making more friends in the city. My longing to move back to town is really starting to bother me, because I can't think of a way to move back. Unless I start taking out serious loans and begin hiding from collection agencies.

No, that won't solve anything. Uhh...the glories of Suburban College Life.

2000-11-06T04:08:00.000-06:00

Insomnia just isn't as much fun as it used to be.

I can't sleep tonight, so I decided to start blogging. It's all the rage. You know. everybody's doing it.

I've been tossing in my bed for about 2 1/2 hours, to no avail. So I threw on my bathrobe, and headed to my kitchen for a late night snack of left-over Chinese. With nothing else to do, I decided to blog. Insomnia has to be the lowest form of procrastination possible. I am really good at putting things off until the last moment, but this is too much. If I take NyQuil now, I won't wake up for school in the morning. If I don't go to school tomorrow, I will have an even harder time going to school on Wednesday. This sounds like a nice little vicious circle of insomnia I'm working on. I need to smoke a cig and go to sleep, or maybe I might just try to sleep. Uhh, I give up. I am going to lay in bed and try to sleep once more.

Jason