The Art of Trying to Think on an Empty Stomach

my mind feels rusty.

perhaps it's broken, again.

people often make fun of me for my unnatural hatred of umbrellas. for me, it all boils down to the logistics.

people suddenly go into this zone where they have no concept of personal space.

it's like people with strollers.

i don't care that you have a kid. you having a kid does not take precedence over my shins.

the same is true with umbrellas. just because you want to be dry, doesn't mean i want to be poked in the eye with a metal rod.

in the bathroom at my doctors office there is a sign that says "please save urine sample."

forever.

your kid is still staring at me while asking for cheese. it is kind of freaking me out.

in the waiting room at my doctors office, the selection of magazines is typical, "fit pregnancy", "mom and baby", "cooking light", "diabetic living", "health", and then there's "handy man."

one of these things is not like the other.

and none of these things is like me.

but that’s what makes the money.

i’m surprised i haven’t been kicked out of more places.

i hate when there are really awesome commercials for really stupid products. seems like a waste of creativity.

why do appointment times mean nothing to doctors?

i have shit to do.

why is my doctor wearing a bluetooth?

isn’t there a running joke that all guys who wear bluetooths are assholes? i wonder how people came to that conclusion. it seems like a gross generalization. and generally speaking, i’m not a fan of generalization.

gross or otherwise.

you can always tell the new conductors from the old subway conductors. the new ones are all so helpful, "ladies and gentlemen, at this stop you can catch the r,w,q, you can catch the bus that will take you across town in style, and if you go two blocks down from here, there is a great pizza place!"

the old conductors say "get the fuck off the train.”

this week in jenna theatre, we present a montage, in honor of jenna's second marathon that she ran this past sunday. what follows is a collection of conversations that jenna has had over the past couple of weeks.

co-worker -wow you’re running another marathon? how far is this one?
jenna - 26.2, they're all the same.

co-worker 2 - how far is this marathon?
jenna - well, this one is crazy, this one is 26.2 miles!
co-worker 2 - can't you run a shorter one?
jenna - you know, i really can't.

friend – you’ve inspired me. i ran a marathon this morning.
jenna - really? you ran a marathon this morning. before work?
friend - yup
jenna - how long did it take you?
friend - about 30 minutes.
jenna - wow that's...reallly fast...and how far did you go?
friend - 3 miles!

orthopedic - well, you need to stay off your ankle for awhile.
jenna - so no running? is the marathon out?
orthopedic - well, you can run once the swelling goes down. maybe start with a little marathon first.

right then.

you may be right, i may be crazy.

but maybe crazy is just a little bit of fun?

it's taking me awhile to get into the swing of things, but i'll be back. give me time.

and beer. give me beer….

let's blow this joint and go drunk ice-skating!

The Art of Acting Asinine in Aspen

i wish i wrote for a crime show. i would so use the line, "but sir, someone just threw a person at you."

drinking makes me grandiose.

i wish i was one of those people who could be content having nothing to do.

contentment is a step away from contemptment.

in fact, it’s not even a real word.

it requires too much energy to hate you.

i only hate you when i have nothing else to do.

so, i guess it's more a hobby of hate.

people always talk about what they do, like it's something to be interested in.

does it make me a bad person that i forgot what you said?

oh well, you'll forget me in a week anyways.

i'm hardly one to inspire feelings of lust and attachment. usually, disdain and disillusionment are my soup du jour.

and i'm ok with that.

i still don't understand people using speaker phone in crowded public places.

i don't think i like the term, “public places”. it makes me think of public bathrooms, which are never clean and always wet. or smelly.

i wonder if anyone actually poops at home anymore.

when i was a kid, i refused to poop at school.

i remember was i little, i once had to stay at a woman’s house who was watching me and a few other kids. one of the boys decided to poop on the floor, instead of wherever else the kid was supposed to poop. the lady was very angry and made the boy pick up the poop with his hands and put it in the toilet.

not sure how sanitary that was, but i'll tell you what, i never pooped at her house either.

i wonder if this memory has anything to do with my dislike of children…

every once in awhile, i get the urge to poop on the floor in the bathroom at work. i don't know why. there is something that tickles me about the thought of one of the well put-together women walking in and seeing my surprise.

speaking of pooping in public, i think i'm in a war with the cleaning lady at work.

i wish i had a cleaning lady at home, but there is something unsettling about having someone touch all your shit when you're not there.

there is something troubling about people touching your shit in general.

shit.

shit's funny.

i hate that i always do the right thing at completely the wrong time.

like the drunk man who dropped 20's all over the sidewalk while he was staggering down the street. i guess i'll never be a real new yorker, because i stopped him and helped him pick up his money and put it away.

i mean, we've all been there.

things i hate, loud headphones. things i love, when construction workers wear loud headphones and the whole train can hear him listening to the new miley cyrus song.

this week in jenna theatre – jenna is at her work answering the phones.
jenna - hello *workplace*
lady - hello?
jenna - hello.
lady - hello? is this a real person?
jenna - last i checked! what can i do for you?
lady - i wanted to ask if i can email you a question.
jenna - um, well, you can...but you can ask the question to me now, if you want.
lady - oh, i can?
jenna - sure, why not?
lady - oh, thank you.
(silence)
jenna - so what can i do for you.
lady - i have a question.
jenna - right. yes. ok.
lady – i got an email from you. i have to submit materials by december 1st, is this correct?
jenna - yup. i think it says it on the email right?
lady - right. it says december 1st is the deadline.
jenna - right.
lady - so is it?
jenna – the deadline? yes....
lady - (sounding relieved) ok thank you! you've been such a big help!
jenna - no problem....

eh, we’ve all been there…right?

The Art of Petting Perfect Pigeons

you gotta knock this one out of the parking lot.

i need to move...or buy some new shoes.

do you ever wonder if the choices you make are wrong, or just unpopular?

sometimes i think i'm a victim of both.

most the time, i don’t think it matters, you see with women it’s all about the hair, with men, it’s all about the penises.

do you have any questions for me?

i got hit on by a homeless man with no arms. he asked to hold my hand.

it is really hard to ignore someone who isn't around to be ignored.

pay attention to me so i can blow you off, damn it.

i should have asked first, but was this tennis ball down john’s pants?

the cleaning lady left cleaning supplies on my desk. i think she's trying to tell me something.

i'm going to leave poop on her desk.

lights are on but nobody’s home.

not that anybody would ever go there anyways.

and in this environmentally friendly climate, i’m not surprised.

turn off the damn lights.

if there was really only 4 minutes to save the world, i’m afraid i would not entrust that to madonna and justin timberlake, despite their success as multi-million dollar performers.

non-drinkers threaten my existence.

sometimes i think i only exist to tell you how wrong you really are.

it’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it.

at least while the job market is in such a state of distress.

beggars can’t be choosy.

even thought they often are. i had a half a subway sandwich that i didn’t want anymore. nothing was wrong with it, just decided i was done with subway for the next week or so. a man was sitting outside with a sign that say he just wanted some food or a train ticket home. i didn’t have a train ticket, but i had some food, so i offered him my sub. he took it and asked, “is there mayo on this?” i replied a little light mayo, but not that much. he handed it back to me and said he didn’t like mayo, but thanks anyway.

i’m done with passive aggressive people for this week. instead of looking for the deeper meaning, i shall take what you say at face value.

let this be a warning to you all.

this week in jenna theatre, jenna and her tall friend alex, who is a bit over 6’7”, are pulling into a parking spot at trader joes to grab some organic groceries. a man and his girlfriend parked a few spots down, but clearly thought that jenna and alex’s parking spot should have been their parking spot.
ponytail guy – (to girlfriend) dude, i’m gunna fuck that guy up. that was our fucking spot.
girlfriend – it’s fine. we have a good spot.
ponytail guy – no. that was our spot! i’m gunna go smash all the windows.
girlfriend – honey, he’s a lot bigger than you, you need to calm down.
ponytail guy – it doesn’t matter, i could take him.
girlfriend – you really need to keep your voice down, i don’t think you could take him, he’s huge.
ponytail guy - i could fucking take him.
jenna – (turning around to the guy) dude, really? you're wearing a shirt with mr. spock on it.

later, we cut in front of him at the checkout line.

we didn’t really, but wouldn’t that have been a better ending?

i guess it goes to show, you can’t always change the outcome, unless you’re a writer, and then you can have whatever reality you choose to exist in.

in my reality this week, i am drinking a bottle of dom perignon after winning my first tony award for acting and my first emmy award for writing…

and i might as well throw in winning 1st place in the philadelphia marathon…

dream big! (and by dream big, I’m really just dreaming for the dom perignon

The Art of Buying a Used Death Bed

i find myself confused by overly cheerful people.

dear cranky tourist. if you don't like our subways, get the fuck off. i'd like a seat, you crabby ass munch.

if i'm getting a paper cut on my face from your newspaper, then perhaps you are sitting a little too close.

my mouth gets me into more trouble than it can get me out of.

you have once chance to punctuate correctly. you have fucked it up.

by talking to me in that tone, you know you are taking your life into your own hands.

all hands on deck, it’s gunna be a bumpy ride.

you are hands down the worst at understanding me.

put your hands down, i'm not robbing you.

don't bite the hand that robs the cradle.

or rocks the cradle?

the best scam in the world was pet rocks. really. pet rocks? there is nothing pet-like about rocks.

they're fucking rocks.

did anyone ever become emotionally scarred by having a pet rock? did some poor child grow up giving love and affection to something that would never be able to love her back. and then, did she take those lessons of life and love into adulthood, having a string of emotionally stunted relationships that echo of emptiness and chocolate ice cream? all because of a pet rock.

get your rocks off my front porch.

maybe we should stop biting people in general, what with rabies and swine flu.

i'm not asking you to remember me, i'm asking you to stop calling me.

i'm pretty hard to forget.

wait, what were we talking about?

i wish i could select my memory.

when things don't work like they're supposed to, i usually take the blame.

“who's to blame? sue's to blame!”

there will always be someone to blame.

in my office, that someone is me.

blaming someone is simply a technique to avoid dealing with the issue. in the end, does it even matter? the problem still exists and you are still a little prick.

oh, and for the record, nothing is ever my fault.

i'm not surprised by your behavior anymore, in fact, i take bets on it. i never loose.

this week in jenna theatre - on halloween night, taking the packed subway home, a man sits next to jenna on the train while jenna is attempting to read her magazine.
man - happy halloween
jenna - thanks, happy halloween.
man - it's the night of fools (silence) festival of fools. halloweeeeen. i was going to dress up this year as something awesome.
jenna - oh yeah, why didn't you?
man - i did.
jenna - oh, already?
man - no, now.
jenna - you're dressed up now?
man - yup!
jenna - what are you supposed to be?
man - i dressed up as myself. i'm awesome. you want my number?
jenna - (laughing) ummm no thanks. But that was funny.
man - (a few stops later) i'm a christian, so that's why i don't do halloween. is that why you're not dressed up?
jenna - (trying to read) no, just busy. i don't think halloween has anything to do with that. it's just for fun.
man - nope, it's the devil. the devil will get you if you wear a costume because he gets confused.
jenna - interesting.
man - i think you need to learn more, can i have your number? maybe we can go to church together.
jenna - you should have quit while you were ahead.

best comment of the night by a drunk asshole on canal street : "i'm wearing a condom tonight, because i'm going dressed as a dick" my response, "why bother with the condom?"

what’s wrong with you, did you have a pet rock as a child?

The Art of Desperate Dining Decisions

i think my cats are using me for my money.

i pretend i don't hear indecent proposals.

sometimes love is blind.

and deaf.

window cleaning is yet another causality of the recession.

my building is surrounded by a cloud today. makes me feel like i'm in a star wars movie.

how is it that old ladies all smell exactly the same?

what company is out there making old lady perfume?

when doing the hokey pokey it is helpful if your shoes remain on and not flying at the head of the woman in the wheelchair.

some people are just meant to be alcoholics.

do i drink because i write or do i write because i drink?

at my friend’s wedding this weekend, we encountered an overzealous wedding planner. aside from the many odd and rude things she did, such as taking the mirror out of the bridal suite because she was afraid the girls would try to do their make-up, she also tried to run a very tight ship. when the bride’s family wanted to wait for the grandmother to arrive, the woman said, “no, i’m sorry, but come 3:30, this wedding is happening, whether she’s here or not. sorry grandma.”

the woman also coached me down the aisle by screaming at me, “walk slow, eyes ahead, walk slow, keep that chin up, smile, smile, smile!!!”

i was not aware i had entered a beauty pageant.

i love a hitchhiking horse.

i once rode a bike around for about an hour without realizing the kick stand was down.

it is amazing how many people stick their noses where they don't belong.

i have maybe picked my nose twice in the last year. guess how many times i've been caught by someone.

when asking for grant money, perhaps you should spell check your proposal?

just a thought.

my mind has shut off for the day. it's running on reserve.

some people can't wait to tell you bad news.

it's not a lack of self confidence, it's a lack of personal grooming.

i don't lie, i assist the truth.

i only wear mascara when it rains.

this week in jenna threatre, jenna and her friend are having a post lunch chat over IM.
buffyvslayer: ugh, i ate too much burger king.
i want to puke
jennaisawkward: oh no
buffyvslayer: if the guy fixing my kitchen wasn't here i would definitely be puking
but i don’t want him to hear me
jennaisawkward: right...
go outside
buffyvslayer: it's raining.
how do anorexics puke silently?
life's oldest mystery
jennaisawkward: wait, doesn't your bathroom have a fan?
buffyvslayer: i could go upstairs and puke in that bathroom
jennaisawkward: do it quietly, it's very easy to do, trust me, after many days of being hung
over at work, i have perfected the art.
buffyvslayer: i have tried---many times
so loud
jennaisawkward: you just have to relax
and focus on breathing
buffyvslayer: or i could just stop going to burger king
jennaisawkward: or that...

oh, and in other news, it still doesn’t work when you like a girl to insult her.

buying drinks usually has a much better result.

i always tell people to not take me so seriously and that they clearly don't get my sarcasm.

they clearly still don't.

The Art of Short, Sweet, and Lacking a Point

i'd be a nurse, but i really hate sick people.

i'm not surprised, just over waxed.

have you ever done a walk of shame past a group of 4th graders?

“mommy, why doesn’t she have any panties on?”

i don't know what they could possibly sell in a church gift shop.

you never think about the impact of gravity until a pair of scissors fall on your leg.

i now know what burnt x-mas smells like.

why do they put an ‘X’ in for the first part of the word christmas? if they are trying to replace the ‘christ’ part, shouldn’t they use a 't'?

i find your lack of faith disturbing. i also find your lack of pants disturbing.

yankee fans are like republicans. they never shut the fuck up about anything.

see, i’m an equal opportunity offender. ain’t no discrimination here.

i hate sentences that begin with, i love you but…

am i the only one who doesn't like to have their butt rubbed against a strangers butt? after riding the subway this morning, i'm not so sure.

i’m not cheap, i’m under paid.

you never said you missed me. i guess you never did.

when people say dreams come true, this concerns me. i have some pretty fucked up dreams.

there was one dream that involved a burning upside down airplane and some midget horses with fangs.

do men wear shorts in 40 degree weather to indicate masculinity and sexual prowess? to me, it indicates stupidity, and lack of judgment. also, possible shrinkage.

i often excuse myself from conversations i am not part of.

does anything need to be done up that high?

my anxiety has anxiety.

this week in jenna theatre, jenna is talking to a friend about great tv shows.
friend - i really love that show dexter
jenna - i can't really watch too much of it, but what i've seen looks great. that actor from six feet under is awesome.
friend – yea, he’s pretty amazing. it’s weird, but there is something about that character i identify with.
jenna - you identify with dexter?
friend - yeah...
jenna - well, there is something likable about him, but...
friend - no, it's more than that. i just feel a lot like him.
jenna – hmmm. you know he's a serial murderer, right?
friend - well not that part…
jenna - …and he lacks a lot of normal emotions
friend - not that part either…
jenna - then what part do you connect with?
friend - i don't know...our sisters look a lot alike

i need to rethink some of my relationships.

The Art of Awful Artwork

i have managed to sit backwards on the train twice, each time using different reasoning skills.

it stands to reason then, that the reason is my reasoning is flawed. but at one point it was correct.

just never in the way that made sense.

it is never velour track suit weather.

i can't think over your stuttering.

you have to fall down to stand up again.

if you're hot, it's not stalking.

don't make looking at leaves sound dirty, you leaf peepers. i feel dirty even writing it.

i like going on adventures as long as i know where i'm going.

it's just not as fun when the fortune cookie is correct.

i'll support your right for freedom of speech, if you'll support my right to ear plugs.

seriously, is your voice always like that? you might want to get that checked out.

i'm just sayin'.

i’m always just sayin’.

it is important to give as good as you get. otherwise, people might think you just don’t get it.

get lost?

stop asking so many questions. nobody thinks you are actually interested.

kick an ant.

(just not your aunt)

i need back-up cheese….STAT.

pick on someone your own size.

pick a side.

it's usually extra to sub a salad, instead of fries for a side. we don't want you to be healthy. it would make our choices seem wrong.

seeing balloons floating away in the sky makes me forlorn.

it’s a cliché because it’s true.

you take such good care of me. i'm hardly worth it.

i try not to get too attached to people, or things. they tend to break.

just because you don't understand me, doesn't make me wrong.

this week in jenna theatre, jenna is in the car with her friend x on the way to pick apples at an orchard. inspired by their plans, they have taken to discussing bad ass crops that they have seen in their travels.
x – in mississippi, i once went into a cotton field. it was pretty amazing to be surrounded by all that white.
jenna – that sounds awesome.
x –it was so soft, i was supprised how soft it was.
jenna - well, yes, it's cotton...cotton tends to be soft...
x – i thought had to weave it together.
jenna – yes, they do. then it's called a t-shirt...

yes, crops are bad ass.

there are some things money can't buy, for everything else, there's incredible debt that you will be paying off for years.

sometimes there are no words. thank god for that…