OMG - I'm totally famous!

The Boston Phoenix is doing this thing where they take clips from a show at the Comedy Studio and then make a little "Three Minutes at the Studio" movie for people to watch. I was there last Friday and I made the grade. Check me (and the other people on the video) out!

p.s. Yes, they call me Jen and spell my last name wrong, but they will learn in time.

Another link to another place

At the risk of becoming one of those blogs that just links you to other places, I'd really like you to read this essay by Garrison Keillor on Salon.com.

It's about the bailouts. It's not long, and it makes valid points you'll wonder why you didn't make yourself. And then you'll remember you work for a fortune 500 company and you may have bought into the bailout bullshit by accident.

Oops!

I got this essay via e-mail. I stopped reading Salon 'round about the time I stopped wanting to watch ads to read quality content (while at the same time not being willing to pay). Maybe I'm going to change my mind about that.

Another edition of everyone's favorite show

Dear everyone:

On Saturday night, we have another edition of everyone's favorite show, Girls! Girls! Girls!, which will feature Chrissy Kelliher, Deb Farrar-Parkman, Maggie MacDonald, Jessie Baade, and me, your friend Jennifer Myszkowski.

The show starts at 8 p.m. at PACE Theater in Easthampton. Come, won't you?

Love,
Jennifer Myszkowski

White privilege

May I recommend this essay by Tim Wise? My friend Fernio Iglesias sent it to me via e-mail and I found it online for you so I could share it. It's really startling and enlightening, and yet also so obvious I can't believe I didn't articulate this myself. Please read it, if you have a moment to get angry.

Talking about white privilege is one of those things that scares the living bejesus out of cracker-ass white people. I admit to being uncomfortable with the subject myself, which isn't really all that cool to admit as a bleeding-heart liberal. Whatever. Facts are facts.

Anyway, it's worth your time, that essay.

Present - card = ?

People showered us with gifts at our housewarming party. I was stunned by the generous outpouring.

Despite a few gifts and cards getting mixed up, I was mostly able to match the gift with the giver. Several gifts came without cards at all, and, thanks entirely to my wits, I was able to sherlock my way into thanking the right party. I wrote the last thank-you notes tonight, which means the whole bunch can finally be set free. But.

But!

I've got two gifts for which I cannot track down a giver. 1) Cactus shaped serving tray. According to the picture on the box, we should be using it to serve tortilla chips. It comes with a little bowl for dip and two spice mixes for making salsa or guac. 2) Lavendar bath salts in a little decorative metal holder.

If you or someone like you gave such gifts as these to us on the day of our housewarming, please do me the giantest favor and drop a dime so that I can send a proper thank-you note. We're trying to have a society here.

Thanks, and with love, your friend,
-Jennifer Myszkowski

How to make proper pancakes

Lots of people have been asking me for my pancake recipe since Primates and Pancakes. My recipe couldn't be easier - and it can be doubled or tripled or quadrupled depending on how many people you have to feed.

2 cups buttermilk
1 cup flour
1 egg
1 tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt

Whisk together in a bowl that has enough extra room that you can whisk it around but good. I set my electric griddle for 375. If you're cooking on the stove, put it on medium high and wait until the pan is so hot that if you hold your hand about an inch above the pan, you have to move your hand away pretty quickly.

Pour by ¼ cups onto a hot griddle. Flip the pancakes when they're bubbly all over and the edges are no longer shiny.

This recipe will make about 16 pancakes, which is just enough to feed Scott and me on a Sunday morning when it's just us. When there are others and we're feeling more civilized, 16 pancakes will feed three people. When there are four or more people coming to breakfast, I always double it.

You can add whatever you want to this batter except bananas. Bananas change the consistency, but make a fine addition as a topping. My favorite things to mix into this batter are pecans, blueberries (fresh or frozen) and chocolate chips.

May we recommend our favorite syrup? It's Zawalick's in Northampton. Get Grade B; it's filled with maple-y goodness. Scott picked it up last year at the farmer's market and we've been hooked ever since. He brought home two gallons in advance of the party, and we didn't even use one.

More for us.

Overheard on the way out to the car after work

Scene: Two men in their thirties walking out of work. I'm walking nearby.

Guy 1: How's it going.

Guy 2: Alright. I've got tomorrow off, so...

Guy 1: Long weekend?

Guy 2: I've got a wedding to go to in New Hampshire.

Guy 1: Open bar, I hope. Ha ha ha.

Guy 2: Yeah, ha ha ha. I just hope it doesn't give my girlfriend any "ideas."

Guy 1: Yeah, no kidding. That'll ruin a good time.

Guys together: Ha ha ha.

Me, furious: Well, that's what I like to hear!

The guys paid no heed to my snarky commentary. In fact, I don't think they even heard it.

And that is the difference between me and many other people (who are usually male). I cannot even imagine dating more than a few times any person I wouldn't want to someday marry. That is likely why I was singlerius maximus until the advanced age of 30 and previous to that basically went on a series of first and second dates. The very moment I realized that a person did not have any long-term potential, I excused myself (and assigned them a name for future mockery).

I was made so angry by the overheard conversation that I was sullen and introspective on the way home and had to force myself to make casual small talk in the carpool so as not to seem like I was ruminating, which, of course, I was.

It makes me sad (in addition to furious) to hear men talk about women like that, like they're handy to keep around and fuck (surely), but not on any kind of permanent basis.

I can't say anything more about this unless I want to fire up my fury all over again.

Sweet success!

Despite a few early setbacks (everyone arriving on time (this has never happen before), blowing a fuse), Primates and Pancakes: A Housewarming went off without a hitch.

A few highlights (i.e., all the times I cried): My identical twin grandmother and my aunt and uncle arrived first, gave me presents I wasn't expecting, and I was so overcome by the generosity, I had to cry a little bit. Kelsey and I had a moment to chat about how we used to see each other and actually talk to each other regularly, and could we do that again please, and I got all verkelmpt. Then The Primate Fiasco played their medley of Muppet Show songs and my sister and I both got our weep on in earnest.

I'm the person that gets made fun of the most for my out-loud-and-in-public weep fests, but I'm by no means alone when my eyes leak.

Kristen took a bunch of photos, which she's sharing here. This is lucky, because it didn't even occur to me to take photos myself until after nearly everyone was gone. I got one photo of the band towards the end of their second set, which I took with my camera phone and have no idea how to retrieve. Hooray!

I was running around like crazy during the party, particularly at the beginning, and there was a moment when I turned away from the griddle and looked outside and the band was playing and everyone was sitting in the yard enjoying the show and it was exactly how I imagined it.

It's happening!

I just got off the phone with Dave from the Primate Fiasco. Everything is happening! I had this irrational fear that they would bail and our Primates and Pancakes party would just turn into Pancakes. Which would have been fine, but still. I'm so excited to learn my irrational fears are irrational and foundless!

If you're coming, consider bringing an outdoor chair or a blanket to sit on in the outdoors. Our grass is plush. If you lie on a blanket on our grass, it's practically like lying on a bed. I'm not even kidding. That's how plush it is.

If you didn't get an evite and you're our personal friend, please do e-mail me as I'm sure your missing evite was a terrible oversight.

I can't wait. I've got toilet bowl cleaner in the toilet this instant as preparations begin in earnest!

Little bit by little bit

I was talking to my carpool partner this morning about how there are this many things to buy and, like, this much time and money. Which is fine. We knew this coming in. It's not like we didn't know. We knew. He was all, "Welcome to home ownership."

Thanks.

We just made the arrangements to purchase some second-hand cabinets from some nice ladies in Vermont. We found them on craigslist. Scott's picking them up on Friday with a rent-a-truck. Did you know that we have no counters at all in our kitchen? Well, we don't. How previous owners ever made food is a mystery.

How the kitchen has never been remodeled before we weaseled our way in over here is a mystery as well.

I've been feeling a little down about how it hardly looks like we've done anything in here, and all we're doing is doing things in here. Our housewarming is on Sunday and we have a number of friends and strangers coming by for it. I want the house to totally rock, and it will, but mostly because there will be a band playing.

One of the reasons that no one will notice that we're getting things done is that we're doing things that no one would imagine would need doing. For example, the bathroom window. We didn't know we had a bathroom window before our inspection. It was hiding behind a shower curtain. Great. Also, it was painted over. Fine. I decided that I would scrape the paint off last weekend. I went to Highland Hardware and bought a small window razor scraper thing. Tesia came by. She said, "Why don't you just make this window the first one you replace?"

P'shaw!

With Tesia's help, I spent an hour and a half scraping the living bejesus out of the window - just the bottom pane. Turns out it wasn't just paint on the window: it was also contact paper designed to look like a frosted window. The contact paper wasn't much interested in coming off the window, and smeared a thousand pounds of snot-like glue all over. I had to use nail polish remover to dissolve and remove it.

Hooray for toxic fumes!

After Tesia left, I tried my hand at the top pane. I got about an eighth of the way through and cracked it. Just like that. So I guess that'll be the first window we replace.

One of my problems is that there are about a thousand things to do in here and I have time and sanity for about three things. I keep giving myself assignments and barely meeting my own deadlines. It's embarrassing.

The progress is slow, but at least there's progress. Please notice the progress when you come by on Sunday.