I didn’t say it last week but HAPPY PRIDE MONTH. I’m happy to be a big ol’ queer and I’m proud of every one of the gay, lesbian, trans, bi, questioning, non binary, asexual, intersexual, pan folks and people inside, outside or around gender and sexual fluidity. Also straight people, you’re cool too. I know some cool straights.
This was a major blah week. I did very little outside of my house and work.
Until I leave for San Francisco I’ve vowed to not spend money (Europe won’t pay for itself) and treat my health with the utmost respect (cause short term goals work better for me. I like knowing I can have cake in two weeks). I’ve also vowed to take care of all the shit I’ve let pile up over the last few months. Bills, health ins, sewing buttons back. You know, the pile you leave somewhere in plain sight and look over it every day.
So to entertain myself as I did menial tasks, I had on background flicks. I watched Back to School with Rodney Dangerfield. Funny, slightly outdated and not the only movie I watched where the babely love interest was way out of his league.
I also watched Paris, Texas which is a beautifully shot film and directed by the legendary Wim Wenders. The late Harry Dean Stanton is the main role and he’s fantastic like always. I’ve been obsessed with this movie since college, the first time I saw this scene.
On the list is Kingpin which isn’t talked about enough. Vintage Woody Harrelson and Bill Murray. It’s funny, it’s interesting, just sexist and misogynistic enough that I want to believe it was a parody of the way women are treated (but then, the way women are treated is a kind of parody of the way women are treated). Watch it.
Another flick I watched was the classic Wayne’s World. If you haven’t seen it, you don’t deserve to. Or rather you’re “not worthy.” This would be the second of the week where the absolute mega babe of a love interest is way out of his league. THIS IS A CLASSIC. Pretty much flawless.
For the second time, I watched the only-needs-to-be-seen-once Ice Pirates. It’s a film you should only watch when you’re drunk with friends. There’s a sex scene to the backdrop of a video wall showing beach scenes and computer activated indoor rainfall in a movie specifically about the lack of water in the universe. But ultimate babe Vanessa Huston in her 20s plays the only badass chick on board.
Finally, I watched Freddy vs. Jason. Did I need to? No. Was it worth it? No. However, I had a classic post-horror flick moment that I recalled Lil Jaci having in Volume Two.
Feb 28 [2005] 4:56a
“I cant sleep. Watch a scarey movie & I cant sleep. Fell asleep at 11:00p and woke up at 2:55a. I’ve just been laying here watching thats so Raven, Seinfeld & playing with my cell phone. We (Celeste’s family & I) were watching “Saw” at Celestes house & I didnt like it so I pretended that my mom was calling and I went into the other room & called her and she came & got me. I wish I wouldve just told Celeste the truth & said that I was scared and was gonna go home but I was too imbarrised. So now I sit here with terrible images in my mind and going sleepless because I had too much pride to tell the truth. Well it was bad judgement in the 1st place to watch the movie because I know that I have a bad reaction to movies like that. Lord forgive me for lying to Celeste. Amen.”
Boy. I feel like there’s a lot to unpack there that I’ll save for a therapist, but the reason I bring this up is because the other night after watching Freddy vs. Jason I woke up in the middle of the night TERRIFIED that someone was standing over me. I literally couldn’t reach my light fast enough and knocked over all the shit on my nightstand, swatting at the air.
Obvi I was alone (forever) but I was so creeped out I couldn’t go back to sleep. I turned on my tv to fall asleep with some background noise but of course all I could think about was Freddy fricken Krueger and being killed in my sleep. Man, the in between of awake and asleep is a dark fuckin place. So Lil Jaci knew it and it’s just been so long since I’ve seen a horror movie I must’ve forgotten… I just don’t do well with scary movies. Amen.
Anyway, this weekend is Brooklyn Pride. So Imma do that. And also not spend money, choose to eat healthy and exercise and make dentist and doctor check up appointments because nothing is fun anymore.
Wish me luck and send puppy pictures to brighten me up this week.
Nashville. What can I say? It was hot. Really hot.
But I enjoyed seeing the Nashville Renaissance Faire. It was so much like the Oregon Country Fair and FaerieWorlds that I wasn’t shocked but I did get to see a dude launched off his horse in a jousting match. So that’s cool.
Downtown was like Times Square for Bachelorette parties. Kid Rock-style. Naturally, I was in and out in under 20 minutes. Seen it, got it, check, bye.
The magic of the Opryland Hotel
Cousin Elias took me to Opryland Hotel which was probably my favorite part of it all. It was the Wonka Factory and Jurassic Park mixed together. Beautiful plants and a stream with a boat you can ride. It was beautiful. You’ll get more when I eventually go back and stay there.
Back in New York now and I went and saw Gary on Broadway. Which is HUGE considering our Lord and Savior Nathan Lane plays the title role. He was amazing, the cast was amazing, the show was wild. 3 people, no set changes and a hysterical hour and half. Lots of dicks. Like, a lot. Maybe 30 dicks with an equal amount of dick jokes. Maybe don’t bring the kids. The set is literally just a pile of corpses. One of them pees in Nathan Lane’s mouth. So.
Follow me on JACLAND to see more of my daily adventures. I’ll be posting things like the shows and my explorations there from now on unless a juicy story is involved.
Photo Credit: Julieta Cervantes
The more I get into my past desires, the more they pile up in the Now. As mentioned before I’ll be moving to SF for a month come mid-June to go hard on AIDS Walk San Francisco. So, in an effort to actually honor Lil Jaci’s cast-aside interests I’m going to slow down to make sure I’m not skimming over projects I’ve been skimming over my whole life.
For now that doesn’t mean anything other than I’ll focus on the projects I’m working on before I take any new ones on. If you have a problem with that take it up with management.
I’ll also be posting more to the Insta account, so be sure to follow me there. This is all really to alleviate these long-ass blogs posts.
Slowing down also allows me to explore the things I’m already doing. For example, I’m in the early-earlys of throwing my bad cooking into Insta video content. I’ll be doing short videos for Instagram to catalogue just how bad it gets when I cook. I’ll need victims, ahem, I mean friends to come test my cooking for each video so if you want to come to my crypt I’ll 50/50 feed or poison you for free.
Party.
So another big… BIG project mostly unrelated to JACLAND but also will come up is my trip to Europe.
The details are that I have a one way ticket to Barcelona on November 24th and have planned to be at it for a year. I should said “planned” for a year. Cause coming up with different identities I want to assume for each country isn’t substantial planning. But it’s important.
Imagine me next to each little blue dot. Hi.
I did acid, as one does, and had an epiphany that I HAD to go to Europe for a year. What’s more ridiculous, is that I’ve been planning it, saving and researching for six months and will 100% be following through on a drug trip vision.
I know. Classic me. It’s actually alarming how incapable of not being me I am.
I have over 30 locations written on a list called “Go to Europe.” Some of them I can’t really remember why they’re on the list, and they’re kind of weird places (looking at you Gelterkinden). But I love being surprised (to anyone listening and wondering what to do for my birthday). Maybe I’ll fall in love with Gelterkinden.
How am I going to pull it off, you ask? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
If you have past itineraries, tips or friends that I could crash with/work for please help a psycho out. Also hey I’m a professional at asking for money now so what’s up, Europe for a year has gotta be expensive (Venmo @Jaclyn-MacDonald).
Moving along. I’ve got a lot to cover here.
Health. Woof. Not only did I not even attempt to start eating healthy last week, I went hard on Auntie Maryanne’s homemade mac and cheese, with the added cream cheese factor (omg my mouth started watering when I wrote that).
With my Uncle’s tragedy barely out of my center of focus, it’s time to face facts: MacDonald’s are fighting an uphill health battle. We’re all unhealthy as a foundation from which we build. And I’ve used abuse as the bricks. I drink too much, I eat too much, I rarely exercise and I feel it more now than ever the seriousness of taking care of one’s own health.
Dear Reader, that’s where you come in. I don’t know that I’d take myself seriously if I didn’t hold myself accountable publicly. I need your help. How does one take care of oneself? Where do I start?? Help me out, do it with me. Let’s start a health club where everyone’s just generally gloomy. Health doesn’t have to mean you turn into a protein powder meat head. You can still be a little black raincloud. I mean, if not, I’ll never get healthy. I don’t do anything high-key.
Ok. Talk to me this week. Health, Europe, Venmo. Follow JACLAND for all the doing and having fun which is bound to happen. I live in New York! It’s everywhere!
Wish me luck and don’t forget that being moody is cool.
I don’t love flying. I don’t love it. But I made it to Nashville around 12:30am and will be out in the world in a few short hours. Today on the docket I’m going with Cousin Elias to a game campaign. Something like Dungeons & Dragons. Catch me last night and I didn’t care to do anything. Today, D&D-like games with my cousin’s friends is EXACTLY what I want to do. So don’t call me, I’m busy.
The AIDS Walk was wild. I’ve never really been around 15,000 people all in the same place before. There were moments where I felt humbled by all the amazing people I met and the willingness to help and work hard and go without complaining. There were times when I thought my body was failing and this is it, I’m going to die here covered in NYC dust surrounded by people who are “entitled to awards because I’ve walked for 30 years.” Honestly it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be but straight up, I didn’t love it. There are too many people on this planet. There. I said it.
Once in a lifetime moment. Empty Central Park. Also 5:30am.
(Perfect placement for a PSA about populating the planet: HI, ALL CIS MEN. YOU CAN’T GET ABORTIONS SO WE DON’T ACTUALLY NEED YOUR HELP MAKING DECISIONS ABOUT IT. Wait in the car. We’ll call you in when weed laws come up).
A rumored 15,000 person photobomb (leave the headset alone. I was required to wear it)
But after two months of working (a lot) on this campaign, its finally over and I’m so satisfied I could sleep for 48 hours. I should sleep for 48 hours I’m still so tired. But that must wait. As I mentioned before, I was officially hired on for AIDS Walk SF, so starting Monday I’ll be working out of the NY office on the next campaign until mid-June when I move to SF through July to finish AWSF. Woop! Than back to NY and the unknown. I thrive in unstable conditions. I’m about to glow up.
Ok, I’ve been dreading this, but I may as well just get started. Lil Jaci, at least this specific version, was in her body image prime. She had yet to grow boobs, which is really the first time she noticed she even had a body. She was still short and scrawny but she knew of health. It’s been an ongoing conversation/issue in my family my whole life.
April 16, 2006 “Start eating healthier. Exersize START RIGHT NOW.” (Yeah, I was still figuring out how to spell exercise. That and ‘definitely’ threw me for a loop for years).
I write this in almost every journal from here on out. I actually get pretty mean to myself in the coming journals. Ah, growing up a woman. But that’s not yet. This Lil Jaci was young, spry, she just wanted to get a jump on things. She wanted to pave a way for the life of her dreams and knew that health was one of the factors that would always be in the “most important” category. She also had mono at this very moment.
All I remember is being at the Valley River Mall with Danny and Hannah and the friends when I first started to feel it. That night we went and saw Thursday at the Wow Hall and I felt like trash already. I wasn’t a big kisser those days, so I’m not actually sure how I got mono, but by the time we left the show, my throat was shredded.
I was sick for over eight weeks. I got everything that comes with having mono; laryngitis, pharyngitis, sinus infections, walking pneumonia. I was drinking, huffing, sniffing and swallowing drugs. This is the start of my infamously bad relationship with my immune system. For years to come (still today) getting sick for me typically means getting something you need a shot for (Hi Shingles. If you could just sit tight I’ll be right with you. Oh, and Shingles-The-Second-Time, can I get you a water while you wait?).
She wrote a list of how to get healthy. It’s actually pretty cute:
May 31st 2006: “Help the process of getting better: -vitamins -orange juice -Go to be[d] @ 9:30 (NO EXCEPTIONS) -Eat 3 meals a day -Don’t go anywhere big (doesn’t include getting (not staying at) coffee/bubble tea. Go to the store and get what you went for. If hanging out w/ppl, hang out at home) -gargle w/salt water -organics -veggies -naps, sleep -if too tired don’t do it! -stay clean”
I have so many comments we don’t have time for, but anyway, at one point she thought eating healthy and exercising was a good idea. So here we go.
I hate eating healthy. I love pizza and breads of all kinds, I love pastries, I love cake and pie. Most of you know my sick romance with donuts. I like ice cream, I like cheese. I’ve had stomach problems my whole life. Go figure. So I’m going to start by just determining what makes my body hurt, and cut it out. First thing’s first; no more donuts. I’ve been in an on-again-off-again relationship with donuts for years and it’s time for a clean break.
You only ever hurt me, Donuts. And yet I keep you around. Well, pack your shit and leave. We’re through.
As far as exercise goes, I hate that too. So I’ll start some weird routine and do it until I need an upgrade.
There. Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll “START RIGHT NOW.” But I’m not happy, and I’m also too tired to take care of myself, so I won’t do it with a smile on my face.
If you have tips on how to get from exhausted, not sleeping well, always bloated and in pain, eating like a dumpster rat to healthy, please, keep them to yourself. Wait, I meant share them with me. Help me. You can even do it for me if you want.
Cause this girl:
2006
Had plans for this girl:
2019
And I’m willing (I suppose) and ready (ish) to take on this project.
The ‘Go, do and have fun’ Jac took a break to work 1000 hours for AIDS Walk, but she’s back and she’s in Nashville, so follow me on the JACLAND insta to see Cousin Elias, me, and my Memorial Day weekend in rock and roll (and D&D) country.
Anyway, on Friday night I got a tattoo. I’m so pumped about it. It just makes me want my sleeve now now now. Which will happen, but every time I plan a tattoo I notice I have less and less space for it. So it’ll be bittersweet when I’m all done up. For now I’ll just enjoy what I’ve got.
Ft. my faded-ass snake
I worked 12+ hours a day this week and I feel ill and v v sleepy, but in two days the walk is upon us. Please donate. It’s actually a good cause and even just $15 is helpful and we’re accepting donations all the way through June 6th.
Team Hyacinth is behind in funds raised, but we’re not giving up. Today we’re at Fatto Americano all day collecting donations and eating pizza. The establishment has agreed to donate 10% of all sales to Team Hyacinth from 11am to 2am tomorrow. So if you’re in New Brunswick and you’re hungry, eat for a good cause. Plus I’ll be there and pizza is my favorite and it’ll almost be like I’m not working even though I’m working so I might be in a good mood.
I’ve started a new Instagram account for JACLAND per the advice from my life guru Page Neal. From her advice I’ll also being making changes to the format of the blog little by little. Once AIDS Walk is over I’ll be able to pick up a new hard hitting project to re-energize the new changes coming my way. Speaking of which, I’ve been hired to work for AIDS Walk San Francisco in July. So I’m not done being annoyingdonate.
I dunno the specifics yet but for at least a couple weeks I’ll be working from SF. Yay having a job!
I won’t have time for much else this week. It’s back to regular work hours on Monday, thank God but also help me. After work on Thursday I fly to Nashville to see Cousin Elias. More on that when it’s happening, yeah?
So wish me luck this week and DONATE TO MY PAGE, COME ONNNNN.
Hi There. I’m Jac, a 29 year old thirteen year old with big dreams. I’ve kept journals my whole life and amidst these journals are notes I left myself, advice to make my life better, things to try that always interested me. The time has finally come for me to turn the notes into action and fulfill all my dreams. And here’s a snapshot of who Volume One’s Tiny Jac turned out to be:
v drunk, don’t talk to me
If you’re just getting here, welcome. There’s very little point to this blog. Enjoy. If you’ve been a loyal reader this whole time (mom), thank you, I’m sorry, thank you. My dad once said he wants to read my blog but I use the F word too much. So, there’s that.
Volume One took me to REALLY cool places. I went to some museums, to a tiny tiny island off the Bronx. I tried prayer and didn’t click with it. I’m trying cooking and not clicking with it. Life is wild, and I want to learn everything, do everything and have fun.
As I get into Volume Two, I will be bringing with me the wisdom (projects) I’m still interested in from Volume One. Meeting people, opening up, not worrying. Going, doing and having fun. Giving up shit talking (adding no shit talking to/about myself… I’m kinda mean to Inside Jac sometimes), learning everything (starting with cooking), helping people (starting with AIDS Walk – donate to the cause!). I’m learning about UV and infrared and writing a book. Yes, I’m tired.
I’d like to introduce you to Lil Jaci of Volume Two. This journal (like a few others because I’m a resourceful bitch) was used first in 2005. Then I skip four or so months and start in March 2006, where I left off from Volume One. I open the journal with lyrics to the Killers song “Somebody Told Me.” I dunno…
Out on an excursion for the first time in two months post mono
The first half was used as a bible study journal. So heads up, I get real religious for a sec. The second half of the journal Danny, the first boy I held hands with for a long time, and I are breaking up and getting back together and breaking up. I meet Zack Weiss who has become one of those friends I don’t see for years and then we take a road trip across the country together. I get mono which leads to a million other illnesses and consumes the second half of the book.
*Delicately reaches for the shit puddle.*
My parents were always strict with me growing up. I’m there only daughter, and at the time I was brewing to grow up and be the person I am now. Which means I hated being told what to do, I always wanted freedom, and had a deep desire to make snap decisions on a whim… But I was (am) a good kid. Always concerned about doing what was right, always trying to be the best version of myself. I was a little good, a little evil. Like clowns. I was a clown.
She dressed like a character in a Tim Burton movie back then.
The process of covering all the projects in this volume will take a little longer. There are 100 things to do. This is the first journal where I draw boxes that eventually get checked off.
Over the next few months you’ll see me doing some of the following: reading loads of bible verses, giving up cursing (DAD YOU CAN COME IN NOW), giving up complaining, getting into poetry, listening to Miles Davis (thank. god), going roller skating on a date and making my mom breakfast in bed (Skype breakfast, of course). There’s also a note to save $5000 for a trip to Italy, which we’ll get into later. I might even finally tackle eating healthy and exercising. Or I’ll quit the blog. Stay tuned.
Because the AIDS Walk is coming up quickly and tomorrow is my last day off until Memorial Day, I’ll be doing an easy one first.
No shit, one of the things in this journal is to organize a group to raise money for charity. I’m so pumped to cross this one off because my current profession is to organize many many groups to raise money for AIDS services. Woop! If you’re in New York or New Jersey and you want to walk with us, please email me (jaclynm@aidswalk.net). The event itself is amazing, 10,000 people walk with us through Central Park and Upper West Side. Margaret Cho is going to be there, drag queens from Ru Paul’s Drag Race will be there, cast members from Orange is the New Black will be there. It’s going to be a hoot.
If you want to support us but don’t live here, can’t make it or hate crowds (Hi, I see you, you’re valid) you can sign up to be a virtual walker! You create an account and then have access to a portal that you can promote to your friends, coworkers and family and ask them to donate to you. Alternately, you can donate to me! I’m a part of the Hyacinth AIDS Foundation Team. Not only am I personally fundraising for the team’s efforts, I’m their representative in their partnership with the host of the event, GMHC (NY’s premier AIDS Services establishment). My personal, individual goal is to raise the team $300 dollars. My professional goal as a rep is to raise a minimum of $200,000 for the Foundation overall. It’s a small number. GMHC’s goal this year is $5,000,000.
So, like, help me make my loose change goal of $200k. My pals Eric Champion and Molly Adair donated already. Thanks friends! Who’s next??? $15 donations or more are greatly appreciated!
For all of you who are only here because you’re so anxious for me to talk about infrared and UV, the wait is over. I understand it, and it’s boring. Not boring in an informational way. Existence is insane. Colors have temperatures, and non-colors (INVISIBLE COLORS, see also UV and infrared) also have temperatures. And the things we see on a daily basis are pretty much made up of temperatures that absorb or transmit wavelengths producing the colors we see. The actual facts are fascinating (and not as simple as the Crayola version I boiled it down to which is only mostly accurate). I just mean it’s boring as a topic in a theme-less blog. No one came here for this.
I got my cook on this week. Uncle John’s pancakes. I don’t actually know his recipe but I pulled one from the internet. It required real milk and I used almond cause who still drinks animal milk? Like, ew. It’s 2019, let’s move on. Sure, I eat things with milk in them, and probably a few times in the last 10 years I’ve purchased milk for a recipe, but we have alternatives now. You’re an adult. Stop drinking from the teet. The pancakes were great, Myles loved them. I have no idea if the lemon had anything to do with it, but I’m keepin it. I made a kale salad, which isn’t cooking and is also disappointing to eat. I made a burrito bowl with too many vegetables and not enough of the good things (I’m realizing now that I only like pancakes).
Speaking of making snap decisions, grief is wild and I bought a ticket to go see my Cousin Elias in Nashville from May 24th to May 27th. Super normal, nothing weird or irrational about it. I’ve never been, so it’ll be cool to see my third brother and hang in Nashville for Memorial Day weekend.
I went and saw The Prom on Broadway. It was cute, the dancing was insane (like, I think we should check on some of those kids) and the people were crazy talented.
My boss: “Let’s see Prom. It’s about two lesbia–” Me: “Yes.”
This coming week will be insane. It’s pre-Walk week. Long days, lots of work. I only have Saturday off this weekend, then work through to the weekend of Memorial Day when I promptly fly to Nashville. (It’s fine, make decisions and stick with them, it’s fine, I’m fine).
If no one reads this blog, at least I have peace of mind at the end of the week when I feel like I don’t do enough. No wonder I’m always cranky.
Next week I’ll be shifting the blog a little. I’m taking on a lot of projects at once, and in an effort to make them all worth it and have their own space, I’ll be fulfilling the project elsewhere and linking it here. I’ll talk for days if I’m not stopped, and these posts are long as is, but the actual information is being lost in my (poor) effort to be concise. Anyway, don’t go anywhere, I’m trying to make you more comfortable.
I wish I could say I took the last week to live life to the fullest, to really reflect and apply everything I learned in the wake of losing one of my favorite people. Grieving is weird. I’ve honestly never done it before. Some days I feel like I can take on the world, like I have this one life and I want to love everyone like Uncle John did, and be happy like he always seemed to be. Somedays I feel like I should take something away from this, like I should’ve learned something. I can’t clearly keep a hold on whatever that lesson is and the focus keeps shifting. Somedays I meltdown for no reason (Sorry Kean University. I don’t usually cry during presentations).
I remembered a thing. A bit of information dawned on me. Something that no one else would ever understand or maybe even care about. Only him. I keep wanting to tell someone, to share this secret, but the laugh I know I’d hear from him could come from no one else. And I’ll never get to tell him this secret. Part of me feels a warmth around it, like I’ll have something in my heart that belongs only to him. Part of me feels like I’ll just tell him when this is all over. But, when all of what’s over?
And work went on, and life went on and I was being dragged behind but every once in a while I stood up and ran with it.
On Monday I went to Central Park for some tree therapy. Myles and his friend Johnny joined me. We walked around in Central Park looking at these massive trees, making up scientific names and sometimes being in actual awe of size, texture or shape. We walked through the city and happened upon a giant dumpster stuffed full of balloons. It wasn’t full of much else, just some wood (?) so naturally we climbed in and played in the balloons for a substantial amount of time.
We laughed so hard, and wound up taking strands of balloons with us down the street. We took the balloons into a restaurant and laughed through a delicious meal and I had so much fun.
Dumpster balloons, dumpster people
I got home late, and couldn’t stop telling Myles how much fun I had. I crawled into bed and saw my Uncle’s memorial photo and for a split second, it was shocking all over again. I had such a fun night I forgot all about it. Which I’m terrified of, but so grateful for. Grief is next level. Sometimes I hamster wheel all my feelings and thoughts and can’t get out of this hole of feeling his death every second of the day. So though forgetting is painful, temporarily feeling joy was so good and so necessary and so hard to find regardless of this tragedy.
But of course everything reminds me. We went and saw Beetlejuice on Broadway. Aforementioned Johnny is a dancer in the show, and my boss got he, a coworker and myself some tickets. The show was wild. From start to finish you were laughing and clapping. The humor was relevant, the actors are SO talented. The set was probably one of the most impressive. The lighting reshaped the house over and over. They made giant set pieces and chased people around stage. It was wild.
And I only cried once. When Lydia was in the Netherworld and talked about how she was so afraid to forget her dead mom.
Then Johnny brought me and my coworkers backstage for a tour. We met Beetlejuice, who’s very much like Beetlejuice in real life.
The show was great. The set was insane, Johnny’s crazy in the show but still adorable. Go see Beetlejuice.
The rest of the week was filled with getting home too late, waking up early and only realizing I had eyes and mouth by around noon each day.
I did cook this week. I made an absolutely disgusting dressing for a corn and black bean salad. I made a pretty delicious vegan tuna salad out of walnuts and carrots. I tried to make Uncle John’s bagel specialty. It tasted amazing, but his also looked amazing. Mind did not.
This week I’ll try his pancakes. Because I’m actually nervous to try eggplant parm.
Anyway, this week I started research on the last thing I was curious about in Volume One.
With no context whatsoever, Tiny Jac left the following Q:
3-8-09 (def meant 06) “What is infrared? Ultraviolet? What’s it used for?”
She had yet to see Predator.
Well, I started digging in. I have the basic, uneducated understanding of both infrared and UV, but I’m not doing these projects to be basic, okayyy. First thing I will say is as I started researching it became abundantly clear that I do no understand science to any degree. If someone knows wavelengths and electromagnetic business I’ll buy you a drink to teach me. Or Skype me. I’ll do the entire conversation as my teddy bear Cinnamon as payment.
Second, I’m not giving up. Tiny Jac wanted answers and I’m going to get them. It’s just going to take me longer than a week to do it. So this is what I’ve got so far:
Infrared radiation, or infrared light, is a radiation with longer wavelengths than that of visible light.
Since even that most basic description means literally nothing to me, I have to go backwards. WT actual F is a wavelength? I get the basic, middle school text book diagram explanation, but how does something emit a wavelength and how does it related to light and help.
I’m an egg or chicken kinda guy when it comes to understanding anything that doesn’t involve a punchline. What’s the origin story, etc. So I’ll be getting my science on until I can actually, genuinely understand this shit.
We (I) made it through Volume One. This week I’ll be starting my last project, one that couldn’t be more important than it is now. Also on this 3-8-09 (06) day I said went to BOW, Bible study On Wednesday or something like that. I don’t remember this experience, but here you go:
“BOW this morning really helped me. Not so much in Christ but to be a better person. I want to help people.”
Uncle John was always helping people, and I’m so incredibly self centered, I could do with being selfless from time to time.
I want to first start by saying, I currently work for AIDS Walk New York. I’m the representative for the Hyacinth AIDS Foundation who provide HIV and AIDS services to communities in New Jersey. Our funding is primarily received through government grants, and often gets tied to specific allocations. AIDS Walk is imperative for us to continue providing education, prevention and services to the HIV and AIDS communities in New Jersey.
So help me out, help Hyacinth out and support us by donating as little as $15 to us for AIDS Walk New York.
From now until the event date (Sunday, May 19th, come walk with us) this’ll be how I’m going to help people. I haven’t personally started fundraising because I’ve been begging other people to support us, but I can practice what I preach for 3 weeks.
Beyond AIDS Walk, like all my other long-term projects, I had a list of things that would assist in my journey to help people. This list includes making 10 new friends, volunteering and learning the subtle art of actually listening to people when they talk. I suppose helping doesn’t necessarily mean helping elderly people across the streets, or giving people the clothes off my back, but can also mean being a good friend, using reusable bottles or accepting peoples differences.
Volume One has been sweet, even kinda simple, sometimes slightly annoying. I learned a lot, I tried a lot and I think I’m still figuring out the point of the blog. But I guess I’ve kept these journals my whole life because I wanted to remember to try the things that sounded interesting. I wanted to remember the things I already tried and how I felt about them. And now I’m finally getting around to it. I want to look back on my life and feel like I gave all my dreams a shot. I want to feel like no stone was unturned, that I got to experience a million things. I want to look back and think I had fun, I guess.
So to recap what I’ll be taking with me into Volume Two; I’m writing a book with my pal Bryson (and taking too long to edit). If I get two published copies for him and I I’ll be satisfied. Tiny Jac had it right with not worrying. I don’t always remember, but nothing gets done by worrying. Going and doing and having fun, though, that’s where the real money is. I did a lot of things I’m not sure I would have if it weren’t for this project.
Opening up and meeting people isn’t my specialty but I do find value in it. I’m a shit talker, and I don’t want to be, so I’ll keep chipping away at that. I’m learning as much as I can starting with cooking (it’s going bad) and will now start a journey to help people as well as learn science-y smart stuff.
This has been fun and hard. I’m overambitious at times and want to do it all at once, but I also live a life. So I guess part of what I’m learning here, besides how to make good scrambled eggs or where the best trees in New York City are, is that even if we used every second of our day productively, sometimes it all just can’t get done.
Whatever. Remember all the cool shit I did?
Next week you’ll meet Lil Jaci. Volume Two continues her curiosity about growing up and being in a body and having societal expectations. We’re still amidst her weird obsession and hatred of Danny (love you, Bud) and also she gets Mono. So the world is ending.
This is a rough one. This week, unexpectedly, my Uncle John died. If you know me, then you know at least something about him. He was like a brother, he was a friend, he was even like a father at times. He was my Uncle.
When I was nineteen I needed out of my hometown. I was overwhelmed by my impending adulthood, I was overwhelmed with the expectations vs the way I behaved. I needed out and I needed it fast.
I called him up. I had only met him maybe three times at that point, and asked if I could move in with him. He could’ve said no, he could’ve called my Dad and they could’ve kept me home. But that’s not Johnny Mac. Of course he let me live with him.
He always made me feel equal. Never made me feel like a kid, that I wasn’t welcome, that I didn’t belong. It was the first time I felt like someone really trusted me, and I trusted him. More than almost anyone. Still to this day.
He was all the things I want to be. Humble, a good friend and brother and uncle and husband. He didn’t worry. He always said, “It’s all kool and the gang.” He was happy, he was an expert at listening and making people feel heard and valid. He always made me feel like the person I was becoming was okay. And he was so fuckin’ funny. He could remember every movie line he’d ever heard. I think most of the time he spoke it was in quotes.
He loved talking about the time it snowed four feet while I was living with him. I’d never really seen snow like that before and he took me with him to shovel driveways around town. We worked in a cul-de-sac that had been plowed and all the snow was pushed into the middle into a giant mountain. I climbed to the top and dug a hole just big enough for me to fit in and crawled in. He looked for me, shouting and shouting until he saw my little feet sticking out. He couldn’t stop laughing. Every time he told the story he laughed. Somewhere in the world is a picture he took of me stuffed into that little cave.
His whole life he lived the way he wanted. He did what he wanted, he loved everyone he knew, he always gave out more love than any one person should possess.
Last summer he married the love of his life. As I grew up, every time I’d come see him he’d scold me for a new tattoo I got. Man, he hated my tattoos. Then met Sue, and the two of them were crazy about each other. They went and got tattoos.
How does something so beautiful like that happen so late in someone’s life, only to be taken away less than a year later? I just don’t get it. I saw him, looking like a wax version of himself in his casket and I just don’t get it.
All the plans we made, all the things we had, it’s all gone now. And I guess I just, I’m not ready. I don’t understand why it had to be him. Why did it have to be him? I thought I was going to have him until I was his age. I’m so afraid that I’ll forget. That he’ll fade away as I grow older, when I’m 60 and things have changed. He was supposed to see me become the person I’m going to become and it’s just not right.
Anyway, he’d call and tell me “It’s all good in Johnny-hood” so in honor of the man who half raised me to be the person I am now, I’m going to keep being the person he taught me to be. I’m going to write, and journal and do this dumbass blog. And this week, on my absolutely disgusting journey to feed myself edible food, I’m going to cook all my favorite foods he used to make for me.
Uncle John made a BOMB eggplant parmesan. I never like eggplant, but he begged me to just try it and he did not disappoint. He also used to make me these bagels that are essentially just a toasted bagel, a fat slice of tomato, and cheddar cheese broiled over top. Simple. His pancakes were amazing. I think he used lemon, we’ll find out. And he made tomato sauces that I think were from a can, but somehow they always tasted fresh.
I’m heartbroken. It’s fucked up. He was 61, in regular health. Its just not supposed to be like this. But it’s hard to not think of how wild his life was. He was so cool. He was a Harley rider for life. I loved hearing his stories about riding across the country on his bike. He was always up for a good time, always available for an adventure.
Bababooyow, Uncle J. You always inspired me, you always made me feel like I was okay. I love you and I miss you. Fuck, I don’t even know how much I miss you yet.
Peace and hair grease. I hope you’re poolside sippin’ Johnny Walker with Lennon.
Welcome back to Volume One, where I felt for the first time, both love and hate. The very same feelings I’ve felt for this month.
Last week I said I’d be listening to Neon Blonde, a one album wonder from 2005. I also mention they resembled a band we all liked called The Blood Brothers. Turns out it’s because Neon Blonde was a brief side project by two of the Blood Brothers members. Solves that mystery.
This band and their one album is a slight departure for the macabre music of Blood Brothers which we all loved. I remember Danny showing it to me, he and all his friends were in bands, and they asked me if I wanted to play piano with them. I wanted to so bad, but had never just riffed before. I wasn’t a jam-band pianist. I took lessons and learned from books. I played ballads, and Scott Joplin pieces and could listen to music and play it, but never had I just made up stuff.
So I never played with them. I was too scared and didn’t (and still don’t) know how to bridge the gap between playing what other people wrote to playing what I write. But everyone could play the piano bits from The Blood Brothers. And it felt so much like a circus that I fell in love with all the chaos of the style. Amanda Willis can probably still play their songs on piano.
Neon Blonde is a touch too much for me, and perhaps that’s because I haven’t sat with a scream-o band in over 10 years. However, I did like one song. Chandeliers and Vines:
A ballad so indulgent I felt like touching myself. I felt like if I cried, no one would blame me. Are we in Vegas, alone, watching a singer past her prime beg an audience to care she was ever there? We get a vague variety to Whitney’s crooning, a brief relief from the sound walls all around this song. I’ve noticed myself singing the bridge “It’s a long way from New York City to Santa Fe. Back where we belong. You’ve got luxury colognes.” Then the sound wall of smashing and screaming. Which I don’t hate, because I’m crying anyway and fuck you and fuck you and fuck you. They bring it back to the crooning, please see me, then back to screaming, fuck you anyway “well go on chew your food talk about sports, weather and stocks.” The music and the swells of screaming suck you into a vortex of emotions you’ve purposely been neglecting.
I write more about the album here if you’re desperate to be told how to feel about something.
Moving on, I literally completely forgot about my mission to quit my shit talking. Which seems so convenient. I’m not giving it up, I think it’s important. I just hope I don’t actually subconsciously rip people apart when I’m not actively trying to be mindful.
This week I went and saw The Cher Show on Broadway. The show itself was emotional and powerful and so inspiring. It’s the story of Cher’s life told by three different ages of herself. All three of the women who played her were so talented and funny, they have incredible voices. The whole experience was amazing.
Of course, the only thing anyone could talk about was how Cher, real Cher, showed up for the show that night. She walked right passed me and my boss was hitting my arm and before I knew what happened the crowd engulfed her. But she walked by a few times (I was near the aisle seat) and made an appearance on stage.
The photo I panic-snapped of her as she floated by me.
For my adventures this week I’ll probably be inside museums a lot. It’s supposed to rain, so unless I’m in the mood to break out my Dancing in the Rain choreography, I’ll be inside. I may check out the Morgan Library and Museum because it doesn’t fulfill my nerd fantasy more than to combine a library and a museum. City Reliquary sounds interesting also, a museum of the history of the boroughs of New York.
I’m also taking on a long-term project. Tiny Jac was ambitious and deeply insecure (it’s amazing how we grow up into such ambitious, insecure adults). She was afraid of wasting her time, afraid that it was all slipping away and she’d never squeeze all the things out of life that she wanted. I swear so little has changed about me I’m afraid I’m in a time loop. Get this:
3-8-09 (I 1000% meant 06 but often wrote in the morning when I was v sleepy): “I want to learn as much as I can. I want a lot of knowledge. So if I go to college I can take higher advance classes rather than regular classes. It’ll look impressive. Because…. I want to be a photographer or journalist or artist or a design editor-in-chief at VOGUE magazine. I want to live comfortably in NEW YORK! I can do it. I will do it. I have a lot of high ambitions, I’ll make my goals and achieve them because that’s what I want.”
Awwww. Two things on this; 1. Technically I’m a journalist now, yeah? (Cue drums) 2. I’m living in New York. “Comfortably” is actually a goal I write in my current journals.
I talk about wanting to learn as much as possible throughout my journals. I’ve always just wanted to open my pages and fill them with as much as I possibly could. And so I take on this project. Conveniently enough, like the go, do and have fun project I’m continuing weekly, I had a list I kept on my computer of all the things I’ve wanted to learn. It includes the Mill’s Mess, a juggling technique you could lose a hand over (jk, I just wanted to be dramatic), learning to make my own weapons (which I guess you could actually lose a hand over) and learning morse code. Why? Short haired shrug emoji.
Starting this week, I’m going to learn to cook. If you’re reading this, you already have to know that I’m notoriously bad at cooking. I’m not just a bad cook, my smoothies are gross. I can’t blend things together properly. I mix liquors that shouldn’t touch, I’m even pretty bad at ordering good food at restaurants. It has haunted me my whole life, but no more. I’m going to learn to cook food that tastes good, and not just accept that I’ve acquired a taste for my shit cooking. I’m going to cook for other people, so anyone who’s willing (in a few months, I’m not trying to trick anyone. I can’t afford a lawsuit) to be a guinea pig, step forth. This will be remembered as the moment when everything changed. I have standards now. No more shit food (except the egg and cheese from the corner bodega cause I go so often the guy always serves me first no matter how big the crowd).
So just to keep myself on track, I’m opening up, meeting people, going, doing and having fun, I’m not worrying I guess. I’m choosing to be aware of how I talk about people, I’m writing a book and now I’m learning everything. It’s chill, I got this. “I can do it. I will do it. I have a lot of high ambitions, I’ll make my goals and achieve them because that’s what I want.”
This week heavily compensated me for the rude bitch it was last week. My one year anniversary in New York was on the 10th. Woop. Whimsy is my biggest strength and New York is my best example. I basically slipped on a banana peel and ended up in NYC. So, that’s cute.
My parents came to visit a couple months after I got here. My mom is so cuuuuute.
Also this week I cracked into a brand new journal, Volume 60. The big 6-0. My journals can retire in a few short volumes (they won’t though, cause they love working and wouldn’t know what to do with all the free time). Stellar news, my pal Yancy’s surgery went well and the tumor isn’t cancerous. Double woop! Lastly, it’s pretty legit to say now that Jeff Bryson, the friend who helped me with the outline of the Damsel story, has agreed to do the art! Brb, updating my fb status to “In a Relationship.”
Last episode I mentioned how Tiny Jac was upset at herself for talking about her friends in a bible study. So, in an attempt to ease her sweet, innocent little mind I decided to not talk negatively about people for one week. Turns out I’m much more of a shit talker than I thought I was. I caught myself taking my frustrations out by complaining about the people I believed to be causing my frustrations. Let’s just all get this straight; I’m only ever frustrated at myself, I just have a tendency to make it seem like it’s because of someone else. Sure, sometimes living, working or existing with people is hard. But also sometimes a casual solution is communication.
For Tiny Jac’s case, she thought she was gossiping because she was saying personal things about her friends to people who were in a better place than said friends. In that case, is it gossip or is it the act of putting forth positive energy against other peoples’ seemingly negative situations? Is it fair to be the one standing above someone saying their situation is negative simply because I deem it? Was it gossip because Tiny Me left feeling guilty?
I will say, being aware of how you behave is never a negative and because of this I’m going to keep chipping away at this project. I even prefaced gossip this week (“ok, so you know how I’m not supposed to be shit talking, well I’m hella going to shit talk right now.” – me, verbatim all week long).
This also leads to prayer, which I think I’m going to back burner for now. I only say that because I spent this week continuing my vapid genie wish list of all the things I wish I did better. Then I talked to my parents, who are both Christians, about prayer and how hard it was for me. My dad talked about how it was about a relationship with God but I think what really struck me was that before I got off the phone with them, my mom said “You know, Honey, we pray for you every day.” (Which I 100% need every day, my life is a nightmare). And that’s when I kinda realized prayer isn’t about wishing. It’s about acknowledgment. It’s about bringing people to your mind, holding them there and hoping good for them.
So, I think I got it. And it turned the second half of my week around. But I also know that it’s going to come back up in later journals (I get heavy into Christianity through Volume 7). It may find me at a time where it feels like less pressure to pull my whole universe together to find the things I care about other than myself. I’m really, very selfish. Taking pointers for how to get out of my own ass.
The go, do, have fun of the week led me to dancing. I went to the cute queer party called Hot Rabbit. I casually got sick from the food I ate before I went out, but I started to feel it right after I pretend ate an imaginary ball as a dance move. Still, Hot Rabbit was worth dropping by. I spend a lot of time in male dominant settings so it was really refreshing to be around a bunch of queers. I haven’t mentioned this much, but I tell people I’m a lesbian because it’s easier than begging them to follow me on the whimsical tour of my identity. The truth is I’m queer. I have no identity other than that, I have no idea what I want or who I am. It’s not new, according to Volume One:
1/1/06 12:40pm
“I am one girl who doesn’t know what she wants.”
Hi, hello. Fast forward thirteen years and I have the same haircut. It’s me.
I deal more in just living how I want until something catches me. It’s not an efficient way to live, but it is a way to live. So being in a space full of people who identify and express themselves in ways I’ve never even considered makes me feel like maybe I haven’t found myself because I haven’t been to all the places I might hang out. I’m crazy for queers who don’t identify, for body hair, for feminine men for masculine women. I’m crazy for people who look and feel and act like everything all mixed up into one and aren’t asking for permission. And sometimes, existing in the straight world makes me forget. So thanks Hot Rabbit. A dance party and a vehicle for self reflection.
I finally hit up Albertine, the French Bookstore I mentioned a while back. So worth it. What I didn’t know was that it was inside of a restored mansion. Seriously, it’s called the Payne Whitney House and it’s amazing. You walk into a gorgeous, empty, marble covered entrance adorned with busts and full body statues. One gated off viewing room is the favorite and preserved room of the late Helen Hay Whitney and is gold with a harp and beautiful furniture. Then you walk back to a French bookstore. Mostly in French but a few English language, French origin books. They have quite the variety and when you go upstairs you see what makes the store famous. Actually pretty reminiscent of the mosaic at the Museum at Eldridge, this ceiling was painted a swirl of blue and yellow with planets, stars and constellations. It’s very magical.
The adventures of this week may lead me to find a variety of temporary tattoos. I have a fantasy that all the creative, artistic friends (which I’ve only a few of at the moment) come to my house (in my fantasy it’s the Payne Whitney House) and we have a party where everyone puts temp tattoos on each other. You’re invited.
I’m also going back to the music scene of 2006. The same Audrey Jordan mentioned Neon Blonde, which I want to say was more popular than Test Icicles and was considered in the realm of a band we listened to called The Blood Brothers. One of their songs is called Princess Skullface Sings. So it could really go both ways. Or lend a creepy name to the book. If you’ve listened to their only album or saw them live or have an anecdote I can use hit me up.
When does music you loved as a kid (2006 Jac like Sugarcult) become the music you’re embarrased of? Or, when and why do you grow out of it? Cause I’m 100% not still listening to My Chemical Romance (though Umbrella Academy was dope, so I’m still on the Gerard train).
Hello. Thanks for being here on this most glorious of Fridays. Friday. I’ll say it again, Friday. I’m so hot for Fridays.
If you also had a demon week, if you also almost killed three people on purpose for pleasure, if you tried to get hit by a car just for a little relief, then we had similar weeks and I’m glad you’re here right now. The new job is rough, the man I work for who is my only saving grace had emergency spine surgery on Tuesday because his arms went numb, my event director’s father passed away, one of my best friend’s husband had brain surgery to remove a giant tumor and I was slapped with a $700 electricity bill because my heater “isn’t cost effective” and I’m a moron.
I’M. GONNA. LOSE IT. In the overly dramatic words of Tiny Me:
1-12-06 “I feel like scum-ocean-fish-parasites-dirt-earth’s core-me! Very bottom right now.” Some days you just shouldn’t get out of bed.
Anyway, the French cottage was a restaurant. It had a fireplace and books on some shelves, but not even for a single second while I was there did I forget I was in a restaurant.
I didn’t go to casino night. I got all dressed, cute outfit, got my books and everything to read on the way. Then my subway kicked me off after three stops. So I had to take a shuttle bus over the bridge into the city. Once I’m off the bus, the only train I could take wasn’t running. So it took me almost an hour just to get to Port Authority to find a proper bus to take into NJ. I still had two hours before I’d get there. So I bailed. All the episodes of Broad City you non-New Yorkers watch where they spend an entire episode just trying to get somewhere is really really real.
Monday I spent the evening with a work and business-free mind to chat with my friend Cam about her engagement! Cam is the literal reason I’m in New York and I got to live with her and her fiance Matt for a while. Very excited, very happy for them. And it was nice to just enjoy the presence of friendship and have a nice time.
“There’s a room full of people waiting to feel normal by comparison.”
Tuesday I saw Kinky Boots. I’m a changed man. I still dream about it. God I love drag and Broadway theatre.
I’m giving up on drawing. The whole reason I was doing it was to live my “go, do and have fun” life, but it’s not fun. It’s harrowing. Bless all you artists out there, you’re special and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
This was yesterday. “Prayer hands.”
Prayer was a wash. I hardly did it, though it was nice to see just how self centered I am. I was asking mostly for things for myself, and it genuinely made me see that I spend very little time thinking of others. So, huh. Did I learn something or did I learn something? I’m going to keep going because truthfully I wrote three prayers.
For comparison, 1-21-06: “God – help me to be a better person. To always be kind to people and to care for everyone like you would care for me. Help me to be a better person in your word and to believe in you like I really want to.”
Vs.
March 31st [2019]: “Dear whatever… I pray that I grow in my confidence at work this week. That this is the week I really grab the wheel and take off, talking with new people, coming up with new strategies and securing REAL MONEY. I pray my belief in myself grows along with my initiative. I pray I can stay on task and be present and productive.” TL;DR – Idk what I’m doing oooh something shiny.
Ok so I’ve only got about five more posts for volume one. And because of this, the last few will either be dull af or big tickets. And this week I chose a dull af one because I simply don’t know if I could take on more.
This week, though, is still important in lesson.
3-7-06: “STOP telling people things.”
This one is about how I had been talking about some of my troubled friends in a bible study group and when I left I felt super guilty about, what I felt was, talking shit about my friends.
The intention was to help. I wanted them to be prayed for because I was concerned, but knew what really happened was that I was talking about how all the people I spend my time with weren’t doing well with a room full of straight A students.
Gossip isn’t a huge part of my life, and I truly don’t believe that’s what I was doing back then, but I do believe I spend a lot of my energy trying to commiserate with people. Which is only half relevant to what I wrote, but I just felt bad that I talked about other peoples’ lives with people who weren’t invested in them like I was. And so, the takeaway here is that I still, like us all, have a tendency to use a focal point (usually another person) to start conversations, to commiserate, or to vent. When really, there are millions of other things I could use to have the exact same affects.
What us kids live by. Or, at least what our moms say to get us to shut the fuck up.
So this coming week I’m going to be aware of how I talk about other people. If I don’t have a positive factual thing to say about someone, there’s really no need to say it at all. I have a million other people I’m trying to be, so I’m just going to leave that one behind. I’m going to STOP talking about people.
Also on the agenda this week: actually dancing, making a NY time capsule inside a briefcase my boss from my previous job gave me, going to a kickboxing class with my friend Sharon, maybe getting out to Hallett Nature Sanctuary in Central Park (I’ve been but it’s so beautiful. Follow my Insta for videos of me breathing really hard outside). I’m still riding the have fun life and will be meeting with my artist on Tuesday about the story!
JACLAND 