Tag: sf

“Hey Shut Up”

More Killers lyrics. They were everywhere in this volume. Which leads me to my week with Switchfoot’s album A Beautiful Letdown. I won’t make any title related puns, but know that I want to as it’s very relevant.

I actually knew a lot of the songs on this album. Unsurprisingly. I grew up in the 90s and early 2000s when Christian rock was disguised as popular radio music, and Hoobastank was covered by church bands.

It’s just very pop-y at times, it’s that hard American rock I hate so much at times. And you just know it’s Christian music. Which honestly isn’t a negative in some settings. I think both Emery and Underoath were considered Christian bands at one point and I love both of them. It’s just the kind of Christian music you would hear at a church where they want to seem hip.

Their biggest influence is U2, and if you’ve ever gotten me into a conversation about U2, you know I have strong feelings against them. I can’t help it. It’s just not my jam.

Also relevant to the Killers lyrics I titled this post after, I’m taking on the project of shutting up this week.

That’s right, all you lucky suckers. I’m going to take a week off of complaining and see if my complexion clears up. I know complaining is poisonous. I know it’s not good for you. And, like wine, when overdone it makes people very annoying.

I’ve been complaining a lot this month because I’m totally out of my element and I’m stretching a lot, and though I’m often rather good with change, this change has gone against the grain a little. Which is fine, because I get my normal life back in just a week and a half (I miss you, New York. I’m sorry I ever thought California was the place for me. I know now that when the times comes for me to return back to the US after Europe, I’ll return to you, sweet, stinky New York. Nothing Compares 2U).

I, as many do, know that life is a play dough mix of wild happenstance and bullshit and the best thing you can do is turn your muddled brown blob into a beautiful sculpture of human shit. So that’s what I’ll do this week. Turn my blob into art shit.

Pride was kooky. I waited in line for the bathroom for literally 45 minutes to open a door to a completely full outhouse toilet. I’ve never seen that before, and dear god I hope I never ever do again. It was almost the scariest thing that has happened in my life, and I’ve had shingles twice, was caught up in a drive by shooting, and got my ass kicked by a roommate.

I worked on fourth of July and then Daniele and I went back to that Burmese restaurant I loved so much. It’s definitely my favorite restaurant ever. I’ll be dreaming of that tea leaf salad forever.

If you remember AIDS Walk New York, we go pretty hard for, like, 12 straight days through the event. That starts this Sunday and the Walk is next Sunday. Then I fly back the following Wednesday and finish my week in the New York office. Home! And then a glorious three day weekend (hopefully).

So, I guess I’m trying to say, Myles, rally the troops. We’re beaching HARD that weekend.

Wish me luck and make me pay you a nickel every time I complain this week (though the street goes both ways). Also sorry there are no pictures. Nothing seemed all that relevant. Uh, here:

Kelly Walls, Stacey Cummings and me, church camp somewhere. Ft. little boy shirt
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Hi [BLANK] it’s me, [BLANK]

Do you struggle with understanding your true identity?

Do you find yourself both attracted to and completely disenchanted by almost everything you see?

Do most of the words that come out of your mouth sound like someone else’s words (I’m basically just Myles with boobs)?

Hi, I’m Jac, the nightmare behind Jacland and resident walking question mark. Are you tired of feeling like you’re on a never ending journey of trying to remember what you like just so you can compile it together to be a consistent identity?

You’ve come to the right blog. At Jacland, we teach you to embrace being basically nothing while still having to participate in a society demanding answers.

Through a careful process of revisiting all your old Yous, (yes, even your Goth phase. At least she knew who she was) we’ll add more to your identity and confusion, but also participate in fun activities until you die from exploding.

San Francisco is crazy. I think I love it too much. The weather is beautiful, the people are so nice, the food is delicious. I feel very different. I’m not going to go into how I feel because that requires vulnerability and I’m simply not willing to contribute to that kind of positive processing. Still, I know people change, I understand that we all kinda chameleon to be like our surroundings, but sometimes it’s super confusing. Myles asked what what I know for sure about myself and all I could say is that I’m happy being a woman (which I flip flopped on) and that I want a breast reduction. I don’t know anything else about myself. Now that I’m here, I feel like California barbie. I’m just this reproduction of my essence.

Now for a commercial about SF Jac. She’s soft, she’s sweet. She enjoys really delicious food (cause I guess she has a palate?), she loves closing her eyes and feeling the sun. She went on a date the second night she was in town and had a killer time and has a second date on Sunday.

We went a Burmese restaurant that changed me. Then we went to see a Brazilian trans soul singer perform with her INCREDIBLE band. They were so good and everyone in the crowd was Brazilian and they were all so happy to be together and I felt very fortunate to see it all.

Then my work told me I have two days off the entire rest of the time we’re here. And that took all the fun out of everything and now I’m sad.

Back to your regularly scheduled meltdown.

I fear that life moves so fast and we’re so swept up in it that the people we become are the people we’re made to be but we never really get a chance to be the person we wanted to be.

I’ve always wanted to be better about thinking before speaking. I get it from my father; we always go for the joke (he’s a lot better at it than I am). Though I think that’s just a cute little character trait of mine, there’s a time and a place and I’ve always wanted control over that action. I want to wield it rather than be wielded by it.

But life keeps moving and I’ve never given much time to actually figuring out how to assess if what I’m about to say is just really stupid or if it’ll hit home (I’m a solid 50/50). That’s an example. That’s not my project for the week lol. I can feel the wind as that hope and dream whooshes by me.

What I’m trying to say is, I’ve wanted to be a lot of things, and I really think I’ve only been a few of them. I’ve been A LOT of things, but not a lot of them are things I want to be. SO ARE YOU STILL FOLLOWING SHOULD I JUST HAVE THIS CONVERSATION WITH THE MIRROR?

I guess what I’m trying to say is right now, even though I’m sad to be in a new place and hardly get to enjoy it, it’s nice feeling like a different version of myself. What if I learn something brand new about me? What if this version is the forever version? What if just letting myself try to be this new thing gets me closer to the me I want to be?

Me, by Erik Fox, 2016

I’m so tired. It’s week one and I work six days in a row and so none of this makes sense and I keep forgetting what the blog is about. Definitely not this stuff. We’ll call this one a special program or something cause I guess it’s also based on a bad infomercial?

The Golden Girls takeaway here is that you don’t get a second chance to try all the things you’ve always wanted to do. For me that’s trying on personalities like shoes. Its going back through my journals and doing all the things I ever mentioned having an interest in. Maybe for you its learning an instrument or a language, or getting your nipples pierced or something weird like that (it doesn’t hurt as bad as everyone says).

Just do it™ and choose the people you want to be. Be ALL the things you’ve wanted. Don’t let you just happen.

That’s all for today, folks. I hope that you come back for our next session in which we basais;hasrihja;rliyaj (there is no next step I don’t know what to say).

Wish me luck and don’t worry if you feel confused about this whole post. It’s only natural.

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Revolve Girl

Hello friends. Brooklyn Pride was too much fun. Literally. I almost couldn’t sit up without vomiting on Sunday, but I really had a great time. I met so many amazing new people. Turns out 80% of everyone in New York have traveled the world, so when the word “Europe” is whispered in the shadows, people perk up like meerkats.

So many people were willing to give me advice, tell me where to stay, let me know where the cheapest beer and the nudest beaches are. Some people even offered to reach out to their friends for a place for me to stay. And no shit, I started French lessons yesterday from a darling of person who’s from France.

I love people. People are so fucking rad.

I spent most of the rest of my week conceptualizing the cooking show. The gist is that I’m a bad cook and I mostly just want to catalogue my journey from bad to good. I kinda think Hannah Hart already did it with My Drunk Kitchen (watch it) so will it ultimately become a show? I don’t know. It may not, don’t pressure me.

Listen, it’s not entirely worth talking about but Lil Jaci was a proud Revolve Girl. My Aunt Cheryl gave me a magazine for young Christian Girls that had ways to walk in the name of the lord while navigating youth. I wrote down all the lists they provided me. This is really where I first started making lists (if you didn’t know my creepy obsession with making lists of completely unattainable things to do is the base of this blog, welcome to the point. Doesn’t it feel like a cheap payoff?)

There are lists with Christian books, bands, things to do for Mom or Dad, things to do with siblings and for the community. It’s intense. And yes, I did just purchase 9 of the 10 Christian books on the list last week so I could just dig right in. Nom nom nom.

In my old age I’ve moved past the deep desire to read every word in a book from the first page to the last. Now, when I’m over it I’m over it. Which may not be the case for these! Maybe I’ll love reading Christian literature! ! ! ! Maybe!

Anyway that’s what I’m doing this week. Starting with Morgan Menzie’s Diary of an Anorexic Girl. Why was this on the list of Christian books for little girls? The actual reason, I will find out when I read it. I imagine it has something to do with how the unrealistic expectation of perfection is put upon little girls by everyone from their own family members to media presenting women as skinny, blonde and white. I had various issues with my image growing up causing me to do really scary things and it was all because I was once told skinnier women than me were more desirable.

It goes without saying, especially to the progressive audience we have here, that placing your own expectations of life and living inside a meat suit on other people is confusing, damaging and unrealistic. So, I dunno. Mind your own business?

So there’s that. I swear, if you’re really burning to hear more about Revolve, just call me. I’ll personally make you regret it in under 5 minutes.

I leave for SF on Tuesday. I’m staying in an apartment I could never afford that has a washer/dryer in the studio, a rooftop hangout and a gym. Am I excited to be sleeping on a mattress that isn’t on the floor? You bet your sweet buns I am.

Wish me luck this week and see me in San Francisco.

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