Republicans Accidentally Schedule National Convention in Same City as International Assembly of Zombies

By now most of you know that the 2008 Republican National Convention will be taking place in St. Paul, Minnesota. Discussing the situation with Dave and Jenny last night, it occurred to me that the RNC may not go off as smoothly if the hotel rooms were full because by coincidence another major event was taking place in St. Paul at the same time... A major event like

THE INTERNATIONAL ASSEMBLY OF ZOMBIES

Picture it! The streets of St. Paul teeming with the undead. Zombies sitting in every bar in St. Paul. Zombies slogging across intersections and cross-walks. Zombies shifting aimlessly around the XCel center moaning and looking for brains...

How hard can it really be to plan an international zombie convention? I know zombie flashmobs already exist in several major cities. We just need to contact them. But must do it covertly so as not to attract the attention of Republican goon squads... This is going to be the best. Will the symbolism be lost on the GOP?

So... Mark your calendars. And if you're from out of town, make your hotel reservations in downtown St. Paul now. September 1-4, 2008.

Jim Wallis Speaking Wednesday Night

Howdy, folks. I was browsing the City Pages events the other day and noticed that Jim Wallis is in town; he's discussing his book, God's Politics: Why the Right Gets it Wrong and the Left Doesn't Get It, at Wayzata Community Church (125 E Wayzata Blvd, Wayzata, MN) tomorrow night (Wed) at 7 p.m. It's free. I would love to go, but unfortunately have prior plans. But there it is, if you have any interest. Shad and I will be at the Fearless Filmmakers screening at the Riverview, starts at 7 p.m., afterparty at 9, I think. If I wasn't on a stupid Mac computer right now I would be able to figure out how to add a link to the event to give you some details. Turns out none of my shortcuts work on this stupid thing.

Juice Gets Hands on Some Good Drugs

I'm feeling whiny and pathetic today. I've been sick for over a week now, can't breathe properly, not sleeping because I'm coughing all night, etc. I'm a walking zombie. I was coughing so badly last night that Shad made me promise to go to the doctor to make sure it wasn't pneumonia. So I skipped Bankruptcy today and headed over to the health center. I have a respiratory infection. The doctor recommended I get plenty of rest (*scowl*) and prescribed some meds (*scowl*). I really hate taking meds, but should sleep very well tonight. First, though, I have to go to Trial Ad and get my voice critiqued by the voice coach guy. I have never wanted to skip a class so much. But I know it will be good for me and I'm paying a lot for the class...

In an insane moment this weekend I sat down and ordered a bunch of books from the library (my school's library, of course, where I can get the fines wiped away). Eight of the books came in today, a delightful heap of literature that I can't wait to plunge into. When will I dive in? I don't know. Just having them around feels good. Right now I'm reading a decent book, Closed Chambers, by Edward Lazarus. Maybe will give a full review later. Just realized class is in a half hour and I have to finish writing my opening statement and change into a suit. Adios.

Minneapolis Woman's Self-Esteem Plummets in Wake of Muumuu-Provoked Mass Defection

First, all of my so-called "friends" defected and have chosen to side with Shad on a fashion-related issue, the droll irony of which is more than hilarious considering how my spouse's fashion skills involve picking out a t-shirt that matches his jeans. It's good to know I can count on you all when things get rough. Jerks. (And it's not like you all have squeaky-clean records, either.)

Today, despite the obvious tension in the household as a result of the muumuu issue, Shad and I were cleaning together and singing Paula Abdul's "Straight Up" at the top of our lungs. It turns out that both of us know every word to this song (of course); however, we hit a snag in the final verse. We argued vehemently re who had the lines right (an argument that generally ends badly for me, as some history shows ... for example, I thought for years that Bob Dylan was singing "Lay across by big breast babe" (which, I concede, makes no sense at all) when in fact he was saying "big brass bed") and I insisted (of course) I MUST be right, I have known every word of this song for some fifteen years or whatever. This is the kind of argument swiftly resolved by Google. The lyrics in question are:

I don't mean to make demands
But the word and the deed
Go hand in hand
How about some information, please?

I swore that line was "word and the beat." Makes sense, right? This is a dance song. Of course the words and the beat have to go hand in hand. This is humiliating. Now I have to deal with Shad walking around humming Paula Abdul with that smug look on his face while I slink off to the kitchen to fix myself a big ol' plate of crow. I'm going to put my muumuu back on and go out to the patio to read.

Spouse Moonlights as Fashion Police

Will you all please help me out here. Shad is unable to appreciate the beauty of my new dress (Arc's Value Village, $5.99). He says it is "the freakish result of a night of passion between a bat and a tablecloth" and is embarassed to be seen with me in public.

In addition to being a perfectly lovely and aesthetically pleasing specimen, my new dress is quite comfy. It could be the sickness-induced haze or the intensity with which I beelined for the cat food and NyQuil, but I truly believe that I received little more than a few sidelong glances when I wore the dress to the grocery store this evening. So it can't be that bad. And any wary looks that may have been cast in my direction can probably be attributed to the unfortunate pairing of athletic socks and mary janes under the dress.



It is the perfect patio-sitting dress, is it not?

Grandma Delights with Juicy Treasure

Shad's grandma gave me this incredible antique cameo. She thinks it's ugly. I think she's insane. I adore it. I tried to wear it every day this week but I ran out of the skanky low-cut shirts required to properly display such a gem.



I really enjoyed Nate's play last night. Donn was at a friend's gallery show in the same building so he joined us. The show looked at Christopher Isherwood's writing in a really neat way, juxtaposing scenes from his life with readings from his books. It was unique and engaging. The dialogue suffered a bit, I thought, from the improvisational nature of the scenes, and it was kind of short. We didn't stick around for the question-and-answer session because my allergies are making it hard for me to breathe, but it would have been fun to talk with the creators about the show.

I'm looking forward to a relaxing weekend. I'm about to go for a walk and then to the coffeeshop to read. We'll probably swing by 24-Hour Comics Day at some point, but otherwise, we're just chillin at home.

Long Tiring Day Leads to Rambling Blog Post

I have a hard time acting like an actual grown-up when I am plugged into my ipod. One time last year I was reading in the library and listening to the Beastie Boys when I suddenly realized that my friend Brock was looking down at me smirkfully because I was totally rocking out to the BB without realizing. The unintentional rock-out is happening again because my little sisters have turned me on to Franz Ferdinand, and I really really dig 'em. I feel like I have a personal soundtrack surrounding me when I walk down the street. Is that so bad?

I’ve been half-assedly reading Half Asleep in Frog’s Pajamas by Tom Robbins. I read Robbins in a really weird way. I love him so much that I never want there to be a time in my life when I have read all of his books. Consequently, I try not to read more than one a year. Since I read Villa Incognito last spring or winter, I’ll need to take about six months to finish this one. After 1-1/2 months, I'm on page 40. Anyhoo…Frog’s Pajamas. Has anyone read it? So far I wonder if it is anything more than a personal challenge for him to write an entire novel in the second person.

Had a nice lunch w/Amy today at Joe's Garage. She just returned from an impromptu trip to Thailand and brought back a super fierce purse for me--bamboo, I think?

Last night went out w/my buddy David, who moved to New York today. He's clerking at the second circuit for the next two years. Am feeling pleased with myself because I facilitated a roommate hook-up for him with Danilanh, who lives in Brooklyn.

Arc's Value Village is rolling out its Halloween gear this weekend, which means fabulous vintage dresses await anyone who ventures into that magical place. Perhaps there will be a time in my life when I don't feel like I have to wait until Halloween to get the best goodies for my wardrobe?

Allergies have hit me bad, and I've been miserable, tired, and on the verge of losing my voice for the last few days. The voice thing is my biggest problem. I lose my voice all the flippin time...when I get too worn out, when I get a cold, allergies, not enough sleep, whatever. I think I've lost it everytime I've traveled overseas. I rarely lose it one hundred percent, but it gets really hoarse and hurts. I worry about it, because I'm going to be in trial someday and totally sleep-deprived, and my voice will disappear. A voice professor from a local music school came to my Trial Advocacy class this past week, and he lectured about how to effectively use your voice in the court room, maintain good vocal health, etc. It was awesome. He is working one-on-one with us over the next couple of weeks to improve our vocal performance. I'll be working with him next week. This class has been pretty traumatizing/anxiety-producing as it is, because we have to tape ourselves performing trial acrobatics every week (direct/cross exams, introducing exhibits etc.) and then I go into a little room to watch myself on videotape while one of the faculty members (a judge or lawyer) sits next to me, watches the tape with me and critiques me. It's a pretty amazing learning experience, since there is a faculty member for every 2-3 students, but watching myself on videotape is pretty much my idea of hell. Hell. Repeatedly stab myself in eyeball with pencil? Or watch self on tape. It's a tough call. Where was I going with this... Oh yeah, so next week, I have to perform an opening statement in front of a dozen or so students while the voice coach critiques my voice in front of everybody PLUS then I'll have to watch the videotape of not only myself looking like a flippin idiot but also the coach telling me in front of everybody that I sound like a flippin idiot. OMG, I have to stop talking about this or I am going to hyperventilate.

In other news, another of my classmates stumbled upon my blog this week. It's only a matter of time before I'm dooced... Ah, well... I haven't written about the princesses in a long time. And, although Snipey sent a hilarious email today, I am going to refrain from posting it.

Shad and I will be at my buddy Nate’s show Friday night. Show up if you’re looking for something to do.

Christopher Goes to War

Conceived and Directed by Molly Balcom

Featuring and Created by

May Mahala, Marit Peterson, and Nathan Tylutki

Video and Sound design by Damian Strange

Friday Sept 22 9pm $8

Part of the Center for Independent Artists’ Adventure Festival, this collaboratively created, improvisation-based theater piece uses British author Christopher Isherwood's life as a lens to explore the intersection between war and identity.

Location: MISTRY THEATER
Center for Independent Artists
4137 Bloomington Ave. S. 55407
www.c4ia.org

Juice Solves Missing Tomato Mystery

Mike and Jason gave me some fresh tomatoes from the garden a couple of days ago. I ate most of them at school, but I had two left to bring home, so I put them in the passenger seat. When Greta got in the car, she put the tomatoes in the backseat, and when we returned home, one of them had disappeared, not to be found. For those of you who are familiar with my car-cleaning habits, this is understandable, of course. But I was starting to panic. See, a few years back, in the summer, Shad purchased a block of queso fresco and it got lost in the car. The smell, after a few days, was unbelievably foul. It took a long time for me to figure out what the problem was. So anyway, I was worried about the tomato. But I rummaged around under the seats today and found it. I'll wash it off and eat it for dinner.

This is my very favorite time of year. This is the time of year I met Shad, and I always get a bit nostalgic about it. We used to work together, and after work, we would go on long, long walks, sometimes lasting all night. There is something magical about night air anyway, but especially in the fall. Friday night, I was heading to the bar to meet up with Summ, and I decided to take the extra time to walk there. I was so in love with the air and the earth and everything. For the first time in years, I wanted to move out of the city if only because I would be able to walk and walk and walk alone at night without fear of getting raped.

Greta and I were out late Friday night (I got home at 3, I suppose, and she got home at 7), and awoke at 1:10. Our cousin's wedding was at 2:00 in Chanhassen, approx 1/2 hour drive. Unbelievably, we managed to leave the house within 10 minutes and arrived 10 minutes early. I have never taken such a fast shower in my life, rolled down the window to dry my hair, the whole deal. Very, very classy. Somehow we managed to not look like total slobs. (In fact, isn't my Greta beautiful? She looks like a Hollywood actress from the 1940s.)



So after the ceremony, we found a Starbucks. But HOLY SHIT, prepare for the apocalypse! NO MOCHA SYRUP! A NATIONAL EMERGENCY!



The reception was classy and fun, at the Embassy Suites. All of my crazy cousins were there. My cousin Joe--who is one of the shyest people I know--gave the most hilarious best man speech. I was proud. I wish I had recorded it.



I spent the night in my parents' room @ the hotel so I could snuggle w/my sweet little sister Mary. Today a handful of us (Summ and others from my Amnesty Intl group) joined the Minnesota Advocates team at the Walk for Justice at Boom Island. It was a great time--live music, lots of causes to get riled up about... I came home with pockets filled with literature on all of the protests I can join next week...





So, now I'm at home. Car is all up in my shit as usual, making it difficult to type. I opened a bottle of Pinot Noir and slurped down some delicious leftover Hungarian Mushroom Soup. It's going to be a difficult week and I have a bunch of homework to do, so I'm going to water my flowers and then get started on it all. What a bummer that it's about 10 degrees too chilly to sit on my patio. Perhaps I'll bundle up and try it anyway.

Sister Bamboozles Spouse into Wearing Ugly Shirt

I discovered yesterday that Kate and I both purchased the above shirt for our respective spouses. In my defense, despite the regrettable combination of orange and green, it is actually quite a nice shirt. It's a decent designer, nicely cut, crisp cotton. I probably never would have picked it up except that the colors were a bit off-beat, which I thought was fun, and I got it on clearance for five bucks or something.

So I picked up the shirt and brought it home, where it received a slow, sad, shake of the head from my dear husband. I disposed of the shirt in short order (returned to the store, or possibly given away). God knows I've tried for years to get Shad to dress like a grown-up, with very sorry results. His uniform is a rotating collection of comic tees, Aesthetic Apparatus tees, and of late, Big Time Attic tees. Somehow I indulge his affection for the T-shirt, going so far as to hang dry them so as not to wear out the prints. Still it seems he might throw me a flippin bone every once in a while when I try to pick out a nice button-down. Every now and then we have to actually dress up, you know.

Bryan (above, stabbing self with fork) claims that he protested the shirt. He obviously lost. I know my sister; of course he lost. My sister Kate, bless her heart, is a bit bossy. She is the eldest, after all, and you know how those people are. I shared a room with her for most of my life, SO I KNOW ALL ABOUT IT... Bryan was mercilessly ridiculed by my entire huge family for wearing such an ugly shirt. He's a good sport.

Juice Finally Pulls Sewing Machine Out of Box

It was another loungey-around day. Our honorary sister Kim is staying here for awhile, too. This afternoon, The Gnome delivered the most excellent homemade rhubarb raspberry pie. YUM! It was the highlight of our day. Sister Kate and her husband Bryan were here at the time, too, and we all dug into it. It was super delish.

I finally pulled my sewing machine out of the box. I was getting sick of my old purse so decided to whip up a replacement. I'm not in love with the new one, but it will do for now.

Juice Shows Sneak Preview of Movie

I've been secretly working on a screenplay. My sister Greta is staying with me for awhile. At 3 p.m., we were hungry and didn't have any food so we bundled up (it's only 60 degrees outside) and walked the mile to the grocery store. We bought ingredients for BLTs and recorded a scene for my movie. Hope you enjoy. By the way, as you watch the video, you might notice the water bottle in my purse? It was filled with wine. CLASSY.



Speaking of movies, I hope you are all sending happy vibes in joLynn's direction--she's showing her movie, "Summer Camp," at the Toronto Film Festival this weekend. The Flaming Lips played for their opening party.

Hooligans Punch DFL Candidate in Schnoz

We take our politics seriously in North Minneapolis.

Ritz Opens in Nordeast

Last night was a laugh-fest. Caught up with an old friend, Danilanh, whom I haven't seen in ten years. She and joLynn and I were friends back in high school, but Danilanh and I fell out of touch. She was in town visiting from New York, and invited us to have a delicious Laotian meal with her family. It was amazing--Pho, egg rolls, sticky rice, homemade jerky, etc... And this raw pork sausage thing. Which I ate. But probably won't be craving anytime soon. Anyway, it was a really great meal, and fun to meet her family.

Then we bagged Summ and went to the opening party at The Ritz.



We're super excited to have such a neat theater open in our neighborhood. Well, close to my neighborhood; within stumbling distance for jL. Last night they were performing the hilarious Electric Arc Radio show, and there was a live band afterwards. Good times.



After the party we went to Psycho Suzy's to chow down on a bunch of junk food and laughed so much it hurt.

I took a picture of jL taking pics of the Ritz w/her new SX-70. "How very post-modern of you," Summ says. I'll take it.

Kia Lives to See Another Day

I know you are all waiting with baited breath to hear the continuing saga of the Kia. Will she last another year?

Yes, friends, it appears that she will.

Matt came over after class Thursday and we spent the entire afternoon under the hot sun changing the brake pads, a job that should have taken 30 minutes on a decent car with a decent owner. Matt is one of the most infinitely patient people, it amazes me to watch him deal with the myriad absurdities of the Kia (and its owner) with perfect calm. Very few invectives where I would have sprinkled them quite, quite liberally. At the end of the afternoon, he had her running again. What a most excellent friend. Now I'm almost mobile. He won't let me drive her anywhere until I get new tires.

In other, unrelated news, I found a fresh juicy tomato sitting on my desk when I arrived at school yesterday. While I still do not know the giver of this gift, I bit immediately into it and juice splattered on my face and ran down my forearms. Yum.

Gilmore Girls Possess Magic Healing Powers

Chez Juice has had a difficult couple of weeks. Last Tuesday, Shad went to the emergency room with his heart racing out of control. They hooked him up to a million monitors, tubes, machines, etc., and diagnosed it as atrial fibrillation. His heart was beating erratically and at twice the normal rate, and was not converting back to normal.

We had a similar situation three years ago, and that time it was even worse. His heart rate was even more erratic, and we spent hours and hours in the hospital pumping chemicals into his body in an attempt to convert the heart rate back to normal, but it wasn't working. After several hours of this, they ended up putting him to sleep and electrically restarting his heart. He stayed the night in the hospital, and there were tests the next day.

This time, we decided to skip the whole shoot-the-body-full-of-chemicals phase. Things were not going well after a visit from The Slasher, the woman responsible for putting in the IV. She stabbed him SEVEN TIMES trying to find a vein. He had marks all the way up and down his arms; a horrifying experience for anyone, but especially for my sweetie, who has a phobia of needles. So, I signed the consent form acknowledging that he might die during the procedure and then they put him to sleep and made me leave the room. The brought out Sparky and electrically charged his chest, which successfully converted his heart back. He was in much better shape after he awoke. We even used my mobile phone to record a short travel-documentary-style video in the emergency room. We took pictures, too; what seemed at the time to be agressively cool-looking pictures of Shad attached to a million different tubes and monitors . . . I haven't been able to bring myself to look at them, and I'm certainly not going to post them.

We took the rest of the week off to recover. There have been several doctor visits since--blood work, cardiologist, etc. They fit him with an event monitor that he will be wearing for the next month; it's an impressive contraption with lots of wires connected to his body to monitor his heart activity when he experiences certain symptoms.

So far the best prognosis is recurrent atrial fibrillation induced by stress. We are planning to get a second opinion, hopefully at Abbott, which is the place to go for heart problems, I'm told. The current situation is not at all pleasing; the beta blockers they gave him caused too much fatigue, and they haven't really given any solutions other than to just keep coming in for an electric restart when it happens again.

In the meantime, we're working on eliminating stress and eating well. I made a trip to the grocery store for cereal and succumbed to all of the heart-healthy marketing techniques. I filled the cart with Kashi Go Lean, Smart Start, etc. I couldn't throw that many boxes of Kashi into my cart without feeling a bit guilty and oppressed, so I went back and threw in a box of frosted mini wheats, too. I feel itchy about being in charge of his diet; seems like a natural gateway to monitoring his bowel movements or something, and I'm really hoping I don't have to do that ever, or at least for another fifty years.

As far as I can tell, the best recovery mechanism is watching every single episode of the Gilmore Girls ever. Shad blew through the first two seasons in the last week. BLEW through them. I personally did not watch one minute of the show, but I'm inclined to believe there is something magical about it because the last few days he has been looking and feeling better, and seems much happier.