DEEP BLACK HOLES WHERE EYES SHOULD BE

I HATE HER.

2009-10-18T17:23:28Z

I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. FUCKING DIE ALREADY. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE MY LIFE. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. FUCK HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER. I HATE HER.

It's Finally Happening

2009-09-27T01:37:19Z

And I don't know how I should feel.

I hate her.

2009-09-18T00:33:49Z

Hate.

I GOT THE NEW WORLD IN MY VIEW

2009-08-24T15:48:36Z

True Blood 2x10 Ending Credits Song

I don't suppose I can be paid to daydream, can I?

Go Slowly

2009-07-27T22:52:34Z

Oh, hey, it's time to reinvent myself again.

Bienvenue, bienvenue. Ecoutez-moi, s'il vous plait...

2009-07-05T22:43:47Z

Here I am, starting another new adventure of sorts. It wasn't easy.

Getting out of the house was one thing. Even just one week at home, and she was after my throat day-in and day-out. I didn't get to see nearly as many friends as I wanted to, and I certainly could not spend late nights with them. It was depressingly constricting.

But enough about that.

Let's talk about Paris.

Flying here was fairly uneventful...until I landed. Josh was here with me, thank goodness, so I didn't really panic too much upon finding that both my suitcases were delayed. I just gave them my address here and a few phones numbers (whose owners I could trust to alert me when my things would be delivered), and we went on our way.

Oh. TAXIS HERE ARE F#$%ING EXPENSIVE.

We met up with Britney, who is Josh's girlfriend's best friend, and she owns a restaurant with her fiancee. We got some soda and massive bruschetta for free, and we kicked back a while, practicing our new people-watching skills.

Afterwards, I took another taxi (dwindling my Euros even further) to my apartment, and I met up with my roommate, Courtney. She's awesome, chill, and has no bad points, so far as I can tell at this point.

...Okay, my one nitpick: the refrigerator's kind of gross, but nothing a little scrubbing won't handle.

So for the past few days, I've been wandering the streets, learning my way around my area and learning the area around the agency (polar opposites, I tell you). I've done some minor grocery shopping (apparently, milk doesn't need to be refrigerated until you open it. Weird.), and there was an epic search for a phone SIM card (SFR >>>>>> Orange).

Josh and I strolled up and down Champs-Élysées a couple of days ago, but it was more about finding the agency than peering in the stores. We did, however, eat some good sandwiches and strawberry tartelles, and also got a nice view of the L'Arc de Triomphe.

We "celebrated" 4th of July with Luke, Lacey, and a few other MAS Ogilvy kids who were meandering around Paris over the weekend with a few bottles of wine, an amazing lightshow at the Tour Eiffel, and then some overpriced food in a cafe in the Latin Quarter.

I also met up with a family friend (practically a cousin), Cynthia. She's in Paris for a class, and we ended up having a couple of dinners together. It was nice to talk to her again - we don't see each other often, but when we do, it's a great time.

Tomorrow, we start at Ogilvy, and I can't wait.

So I should go to sleep, but there's one last thing I want to talk about:

Soren.

I was really devastated to learn that he had passed away June 30th, and even more devastated to learn the circumstances surrounding this awful incident. I'd be hard-pressed to think of another MAS student who possesses the same grace, intelligence, and wit that Soren had in spades. I wish I had been there for his memorial gathering, if for nothing else than the chance to say goodbye among friends. But I'd like to thank him for his exuberance and encouragement that guided me towards choosing Paris as my first QA...and I'm going to work hard, in honor to him.

R.I.P. Soren Hellner.

ENFIN.

2009-07-05T03:06:00Z

I'm in PARIS.

More to follow...

The Honeymoon is Over...

2009-06-21T20:33:21Z

...in more ways than one.

I'm now past my first year in Miami Ad School, and I'm heading to Paris in 9 days to start my stint at Ogilvy. It's exciting, but daunting. This means that the time for whiling away the hours in a classroom and "taking it easy" is past. I've got to start approaching this with grim determination - there's only so much time left before I will need to secure a job and a future in this industry...

...Which brings me to her.

Oh, we played nice-nice when I got off my flight two nights ago. (Of course, the first thing she did was shake her head and flippantly remark, "What are you, 130 lbs. now? You're fat on your hips.") But things were going relatively fine. She sniped very little as she helped me prepare for Keith's wedding yesterday, and the entire family sat down to watch a recording of their recent choir performance. It was a good moment.

And she ruins it all.

She decides to start lashing into me this morning and spews the usual vitriol that I am, sad to say, strangely "comfortable" with:

- "WHAT'S YOUR PLAN? DO YOU EVEN HAVE A PLAN? I PLAN TO RETIRE IN TWO YEARS, AND MY PLAN DOESN'T INCLUDE SUPPORTING YOU ANYMORE."

- "ARE YOU EVEN SEARCHING FOR A JOB? WHAT KIND OF WORTHLESS SCHOOL DO YOU GO TO?"

- "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? YOU'RE 25 YEARS OLD. ARE YOU GOING TO BE A STUDENT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE? A FAILURE? WHAT A FAILURE."

- "YOU SEE? (INSERT FRIEND'S NAME HERE) IS IN GRAD SCHOOL. THEY GRADUATED FROM GRAD SCHOOL. THEY HAVE A MASTERS. THEY'RE SUCCESSFUL."

- "...(INSERT SAME FRIEND'S NAME HERE) GRADUATED AND CAN'T FIND A JOB? WHY DO YOU HAVE SUCH LOSER FRIENDS?"

- "WHAT'S YOUR PLAN?"

And rinse and repeat.

I also hope you noticed that she has forgotten how old I really am.

It seems these next 9 days are going to be a last-ditch battlefield of insults that she can throw at me before I leave her field of influence for another three months. I can tell she's going to try to bully and beat me down before her just before I leave, just so she can feel she's exerted her control once more over me.

And the sad thing is, I'll probably let her, if only to keep her from attacking everyone in her sight.

Incidentally, today is Father's Day, but we dare not celebrate in any way, lest we set her off on another one of her irrational rages. In her eyes, there is nothing worth celebrating at all.

But I want to at least get this out in some shape or form...

Daddy, I want you to know that if it wasn't for you, I might have done something very tragic and very drastic long ago. It is because you are here to support me that I have the will and the courage to keep pushing for my dreams, no matter what anyone else might try to do to me. I love you more than words can say, and I know that someday in the future, we'll be happier. You deserve so much better, and I try everyday to give a little more to you, in hopes of making you proud of me.

Love, your daughter.

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Edit: 7:50 PM

Outburst #2 for the day. I briefly contemplated launching my laptop at her face, but the moment passed as soon as it came, and I kept my face serene and fixated on nothing as she yelled.

She ranted about how worthless and expensive "that school" is (I agree with the latter), and that I chose to do this, so I must pay her back.

...Excuse me, it has been my DAD who has been paying for everything so far. When I do pay him back for all the financial (and emotional) support he's given me, she is not getting a thing.

Then she decides to bring up any random friend I have who has done grad school and has found/is lined up for a job. She seems to believe that the creative advertising industry must be identical to the business and finance and engineering industry. She spits out the names of some of my friends who have jobs, saying "how secure they are" and "how determined they are" and "how happy they are."

She doesn't know any of them, because these same friends have told me time and time again how miserable they are in jobs that they see no future in.

And of course, my friends who have jobs and are happy with their lives?

She dubs them as failures, just because they have time and the social life to go out at night and have fun.

9 more days.

Oh Oh Oh Oh

2009-06-05T02:21:41Z

Look at me, I'm 24.
Still obsessed with blood and gore.
Trying to find that hidden door.
I've searched for years - I'll search some more.

PARIS.

2009-06-01T09:43:01Z

Salut, je m'appelle Jaclyn...

...and I'm here to rape your agencies. Specifically, Ogilvy Paris, if you please.

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I'm back in Austin on June 19th. I depart June 30th.

Start booking your slots.

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AHAHAHAHAHHAHA HE GOT HIT BY A CAR AND GOT HIS BICYCLE TOTALED AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Poetic justice. Delicious. Hilarious.

I don't even think about this guy anymore, so seeing this was like a little ray of sunshine.

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I got a new phone.

Well, "new" as in slightly used. From Ebay. It's the first time I've used the site, and it was pretty amazing to win at my first auction.

These phones go for about $150 - $170 nowadays (although when they first came out, they were much more expensive due to the type of phone and the very subtle hype around it from product placement in a very awesome movie...)

I've always had my eye on this phone over the years, just checking every now and then on its price range. So when I stumbled across the Ebay listing, I decided to take it as SRS BSNS.

...And I snagged it for a squee-inducing $31.

Pictures forthcoming.

The Water

2009-04-12T07:17:10Z

Broken Social Scene leader Kevin Drew directs Feist and actor Cillian Murphy in this 15-minute short film featuring Feist's title track. It's a haunting fairy tale that's as miraculous as it is unsettling. Special thanks to Revolver Film Company for making this possible.

Pitchforkmedia took it down.

Chumps.

So I recommend you download the song, at least. Here it is, in all its unfettered glory.

Don't Make Me Get My Knife Out.

2009-04-06T05:20:31Z

Yo.

What the shit.

WOT. THE. SHIT.

I gotta sit here and listen to my roommate get her freak on with some random smelly boring loser caveman she scrounged up at a bar tonight? Right in the living room? Right outside my door?

I'm damn thirsty, ho.

Move your asses to your bedroom so I can get me a fucking glass of water.

...Okay, cool. Have a good night, then.

Just please don't come up to me next week and start a conversation with, "So, I've got chlamydia!"

...AGAIN.

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...Just kidding. Kind of.

You have to admit: it's very VERY off-putting when the roommate brings home random guys all the time. It's even more awkward when she tries to dish with me about it during the following days.

Roommate: "OMG, remember that super-hot guy I brought home last night?"

Me: "...No." (Probably because I was busy cooking my dinner, and you strolled right in with some random dude who I KNOW you're not ever going to see again, and I went back to minding my own business...and he wasn't remotely hot at all...)

Roommate: "...Oh...Well, he was so cool, we had such a good time, and wow, he's really really good in bed--"

Me: "OH LOOK AT THE TIME, I NEED TO RETREAT BACK INTO MY ROOM AND DO IMPORTANT THINGS."

And repeat ad nauseam, just with different guys each time.

...I'm glad I'm comfortably asexual.

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School starts tomorrow. Yay.

Bring it on. I've got Paris in my sights.

OMGOMGOMG.

2009-04-01T10:15:08Z

STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING.

I MEAN IT.

STOP.

AND LOOK AT THIS.

MMSDX01 : 1/6 The Joker

JIZZING. IN. MY. PANTS.

I AM ACCEPTING ANY AND ALL DONATIONS TO PURCHASE THIS HOT-ASS MOTHERFUCKER SO I CAN DO UNSPEAKABLE EVIL DEEDS WITH IT.

I WANT THIS SO BAD, YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

HEATH.

2009-02-23T03:41:51Z

What a tragedy.

What a triumph.

Tonight is for Heath Ledger.

BOOMBOX

2009-02-08T06:56:01Z

I'm not a big raving fan of The Lonely Island (meaning I didn't pee myself when they announced the release of their album, Incredibad).

I am, however, a SCREAMING raving fan of this song. It's called "Boombox," and it features Julian Casablancas (the singer in The Strokes):

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In other news...

I really meant to noodle around on the internet and sleep, but one of our upstairs neighbors came knocking on the door. I've met them before - they're two guys from France, going to school for computer science, so on and so forth. They were having a little party get-together and extended a nice invitation for me to join (my roommate was out with other friends for dinner and boozing).

So I decide to maybe spend an hour there.

Of course, it ends up being until 3 in the morning. It was cool - entirely all French guys, so I was pretty lost when they started conversing fast amongst themselves. My brain hurt trying to translate.

It was pretty awesome that one guy looked exactly like Dan Futterman.

...Why yes, I do enjoy surrounding myself with guys.

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I've started to record myself singing again. This time, it's honest-to-god, straight up 100% opera. But I really wish I had a guitar or a piano nearby.

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Finally, the end of Chinese New Year. The parade in San Francisco was fantastic - their dragon was so visually stunning. I wish the Chinese community in Austin had enough manpower and determination to do something similar.

There's something about the earsplitting explosions of firecrackers and the sweet burning smell of the residual smoke...I don't know. It gets my DNA moving.

BRRAAAAAIIIINNNSSS.

2009-01-31T08:32:33Z

Stuff like this really makes me miss living in Austin.

That's all.

It's a Hollow Place

2009-01-19T08:24:01Z

It's bronchitis.

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Well, Hello, Mood Theme.

2009-01-17T06:23:16Z

Testing, testing...One, two...Trolls in a temper cause a terrible tantrum...

See that awesome mood theme? All credit goes to lidi for making it.

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I've recently gotten a bit germy. My throat is on fire, and I always feel slightly exhausted. Here's hoping it will pass soon, because walking between the apartment and school is now an extremely tortuous process.

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I'm sick and tired of people who smoke. DIAF.

A Better Class

2009-01-12T07:41:33Z

AFI, Best Actor International.

Critic's Choice, Best Supporting Actor.

Golden Globes, Best Supporting Actor.

...GET THAT OSCAR, HEATH.

9-9-09

2009-01-10T23:36:44Z

9

A short film by Shane Acker.

Soon-to-be a full-length motion picture.

Some Things Last

2009-01-03T09:01:26Z

I watched "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" today with the mother and the father. It was a brilliant movie, visually affecting, and I was not at all "distracted" by the progression of backwards-aging Brad Pitt. In fact, I didn't even really register it until near the very end, when Benjamin Button was no longer played by Brad at all. I shed a lot of tears at the end - not something I expected from a David Fincher film.

Cate Blanchett as Daisy really surprised me as well. The beautiful little ballet soliloquy that Daisy performed on the edge of the fountain at night was really really moving for me - the whole notion of dancing as freedom of expression gets me right in the heart. And watching the progression of her aging was, I think, the true marvel of the film.

And Tilda Swinton can do no wrong.

It was a lovely way to spend the evening (for once), and it prompted one of the best family discussions in recent memory - we talked about the extended family aging, and the parents brought up memories of myself and my sister growing up, and we in turn recounted our memories that our parents knew nothing about.

It's all too rare, these moments.

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I'm heading back to San Francisco tomorrow. My school schedule has already filled me with an impending sense of doom: Mondays are 7 to 10 PM, while Tuesday is literally three classes straight from 1 to 10 PM.

We'll see if this arrangement works out, or if it drives me to sleep-deprived insanity.

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I need to start thinking and planning for my Quarter Away sessions. The more I learn about the international advertising scene, the more I am convinced it is where I belong.

Unsurprising.

2008-12-30T04:52:24Z

I wish she would get out of our lives. It only took a few days, but she's like a volcano - let little insignificant things pent up until she blows it all out of proportion.

I'm glad I stayed in tonight. At least that's one less thing she can point to as proof that we are all worthless and that she is so-put-upon by our very presence.

She should go run a mile. Off a cliff.

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Thanks for all the lovely comments on my "Best in Show" work! It means the world to me.

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Enjoy the rest of the holidays. I will certainly try to enjoy mine.

This is How You School the School

2008-12-19T06:46:35Z

Holy crap.

Best in Show.

BEST. IN. SHOW.

I was not expecting this AT ALL.

Just...just let me bask in the glory of it all, just for a few minutes...

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...Okay. Let me explain:

At the end of every quarter, my school has a little awards ceremony. Nothing flashy, just a little recognition of work that was really good. The school always brings in judges from outside (this time, it was an AD from some anonymous agency, a photographer, and an artist's rep).

Rankings are Bronze, Silver, Gold, Best in Show, Best Portfolio, and Top Dog. Obviously, the last two are restricted only to the graduating class, and it honors an entire two years' worth of work. The other awards concern work done in this quarter. All "Honorable Mention" work is displayed around the school during the wine-and-dine, and I already had a campaign and some photography up.

I was pretty pleased with myself, and thought that was it. If anything, I was kind of banking on another campaign in my submissions to place an award, but certainly was not expecting it. I mean, the work that the upper quarters turn out is amazing.

So the awards slideshow starts, and a 1st Quarter campaign wins Bronze, a 6th Quarter campaign wins Silver, and a group from my quarter wins Gold (woo!). I'm thinking, "Yay, awesome, cool," and other appropriately positive thoughts. The Top Dog award goes to a graduating girl (totally deserved it, she works like a FIEND), and Best Portfolio goes to another graduating girl.

Yay, clap clap clap...

"BEST IN SHOW" flashes up on screen...

...followed by "DOGS: BULLETS & CARNAGE."

Yay, clap cl---WHAT.

...Wait. WHAT?!?!?

And I'm totally dumbfounded seeing my work suddenly appear on the screen. Saul and Heather are flailing in their seats next to me, pounding me on the shoulder. I totally throw my arms up and make some unintelligible "OMG" sounds.

For the rest of the party, I'm in a weird state of calm euphoria. I've got people from the upper quarters that I only vaguely know coming up to me and congratulating me, and I'm just smiling stupidly and stuttering, "OMGTHXSQUEE!"

...Kind of embarrassing.

I call up my parents on the walk home and try to dramatize the story as much as possible to make my win sound as exciting as it really was over the phone. And they sounded really proud.

REALLY proud.

...It has to be said - there is something about this whole "validation" thing.

And you know what?

It just makes me want to step my game up even more.

This Needs Dusting Off...

2008-11-29T13:23:32Z

The ferocity of my attempts to avoid actual homework have now extended to re-doing my journal look.

Weeeellll...I guess it's kind of related...in a art directing/knife throwing/sleep depriving way.

Mark I: Spending entirely too much time re-thinking the text links and titles on the journal.

Mark II: Finally decided on a new journal layout. It's nice to see that these nice layouts that were once paid-account-only are now FREE. Playing around with colors and such.

EDIT: December 01, 2008. 5:56 AM

Mark III: Slow crawl to shuffling out these tired old icons...My internal clock is shot.

Ho Hum.

2008-10-29T11:50:33Z

Hmm.

I have a dilemma.

Where can one purchase knives, bullets, and gasoline at this hour? For CHEAP.

Hoohoohaa-hahhahaHAHAhaha hee ha hah HA.

-goes back to sipping Bailey's-