0047, August 31. 2006
Quent, Athon, Valerie


' Best of Weblog'

Okay, so maybe it's a little bit of a misnomer. I suppose it would be more accurate to call this a collection of my very *favorite* weblog entries. I hope you enjoy them! ^_^



1239, September 28. 2005

C o m m e n t s


' You have quite knack for perfectly communicating pain, and making it resonate within me. Jesus dude, what are you doing working towards a degree in engineering (or whatever)? You and I both know you're an artist.'

2100.Wednesday September 28. 2005

' It's all an act. Breaking up with a person you care deeply about is most times going back to the facade you used to put on when you were first dating her. The facade I call "your representative." After a break up it's hard to let the person back into your heart because the pain too strong, like it's always hard to let someone new into your heart, most times. Why is it so hard to go back to normal after a break up? Well, there is no normal. Normal was your relationship, and now that's gone...[trimmed]'

1700.Wednesday September 28. 2005

' When you get the blanket thing, you can relax, because everything you could ever want or be, you already have and are.'
--Bernard Jaffe
[I Heart Huckabees]


So I saw Claire online today. For those of you who don't know, she's my ex from highschool. We dated my junior and senior year and then I broke her heart and ditched her for Rachel (I mean. there's a lot more to it than that, but this is probably how she felt about it). I IMed her.

Every now and then I drop Claire an Instant Message, but every single time it's ignored. So this morning, when it wasn't, I didn't know what to do! To me, her response seemed guarded and aloof. Immediately I shot back to yesterday where I was in my car, receiving a call from Rachel. For those of you who don't know who Rachel is, you obviously don't know me either. Quit stalking me. I answered, but in a tone that belied the damnable starving puppy-dog eagerness to hear about her. I'm over her, but in the way an alcoholic is over alcohol, I imagine. I've gotten really good at not calling her (I'd better be, after three years). But that doesn't mean I don't want to [actually. that's really more like how I felt a year ago. But i felt like being dramatic for this post].

funny. I'm still so happy to hear from her, even tho the person she seems to have turned into over the years is someone who grates on me (maybe because she's so different than the girl I used to love - and the contradiction pisses me off?). What sense does it make for me to still obsess over someone I can barely stand?!

My best guess is that it's just so rare an occasion, her calls. I still remember those first few months after we broke up. It was November and her voice on the phone had gone flat, she had me convinced that she had fallen out of love with me. I called her twelve times a day. She pushed me away. I despaired. Every call seemed to drive her farther and farther. I marshalled myself to calling her less and less. She called me back occasionally, but her words were cold. Months passed. Christmas came and went and one night in February -- before a very important exam that I wouldn't pass, she called. I was tired of it all-- school, Rachel, my roommate Matt. I was at the breaking point and just couldn't deal with any of it anymore. I was about to tell her to fuck off (at this age, i still had trouble cursing) when I heard her sobbing on the phone.

'Can this be the end?' she asked weakly, 'If it's the end, then I can tell you.'

It had been an act. All of it. All these months she had loved me as desperately and it was worse for her because she had to pretend. As you can probably guess, I ate it up.

We never really got back together, and a couple of months later, it all dribbled through our fingers again. I never really recovered from the bite of her sarcasm or the sting of her scoffing; however she really didn't mean it. We were rarely ever in the same city.

So, although i was glad that Rachel called yesterday, my tone was all business. "How are you? How's the family? Still in Oregon? That's good. Thanksgiving. Christmas. Yeah, we definately should. See you then." I guess on some level she knew I was glad to hear of her, as she didn't let the conversation die (when I quashed it as best I could) until I had not only left the car, but walked through the mall, gotten some money from the ATM and finally reached my destination. When I told her I had to go, she said good-bye in a over-enthusiastic tone, as tho she were the clown that I make myself out to be so very often among friends. It was a little disturbing, as appearances were always so important to her (heh. she would disagree, but it's true. Her part was the ever-approving veteran).

And so Claire answered my IM. I asked how she was doing, she replied that she was good and busy. I said little else. Having had two very discouraging replies from her, I couldn't go on. My guilt tugged at me. How dare I elbow back into her life in any small way, after what I did to her? So I wished her well and bade her an over-cheerful syrupy-sweet goodbye that smacked of Rachel's.

If Claire is me and I'm Rachel, could Claire actually want to hear from me afterall? Possibly. But I don't have the balls that Rachel does.


0058.Thursday, April 14.2005

C o m m e n t s


'dude, jeff, i've got to get you some updated picture of myself... lol'

1339.Saturday June 11. 2005


'jeffie.. that pic was like freshman year.. however, im SOO excited im FINALLY on your web page! and holy crap im like flipping out cause your coming home so soon!! WOO WOO brother sister time :-D'

1031.Sunday, May 8. 2005

'JJ&K: Jessica, Karen and myself...sort of like peanut butter and jelly; we all exist separately, but are typically found together.'

2311.Wednesday, April 20. 2005


'Ok, so I just caught up on like a month and half's worth of weblogs. I thought the EQ [actually, it's WoW, not EQ ~_^ --ed] entry was funny because I got to read it first. I need to do a survey for old times sake and play around on this okcupid site. This whole "Barah" is starting to confuse my brain as I sometimes accidentally think it's referring to me. Lastly, we need to get you a better picture of me - one where I'm not flipping off the camera or have things written on my forehead. Haha, I miss you Jeffy!'

1422.Wednesday, April 20. 2005


'JJ&K stands for Jessica, Jennifer, and Karen. OR Jennica & Karen. They three are attatched by invisible bonds, so that one may not be seen with out the others.

I'm sorry, I was trying to impress you. I don't know what it means. I'll be honest, I don't think anyone knows what it means anymore. Scholors maintain that the translation was lost hundreds of years ago.'

1227.Monday, April 18. 2005


'What's "JJ&K" mean? Also, that's a sweeet pic of me.'

John Jarzemsky
0243.Sunday, April 18. 2005



0425.Sunday, March 20.2005

'The fall of the Warrior and Rogue'

Below: Walkaer, the level 23 night elf Hunter. I think I've spent more time being him than me these past 3 weeks. Also there is my newest Pet, my newest best friend: Stabby. He's a scorpid whom I tamed during my next to most recent jaunt deep into enemy territory. I was killed 3 times just trying to get there -- and I'm pretty good at not dying by now. I can even turn invisible sometimes. It's sad I have so many stories that most have no interest in hearing. *sigh*

for example: [and keep in mind. this actually happened -- this isn't just some story I cooked up]

Early this morning I was escorting this younger player into the territory where I first caught Stabby. We were asked by some Astranaarians to kill a certain mage who lived in the Barrens (he had brainwashed several hundred peacable water elementals: turning them into monsters with a taste for Elven-blood. This, of course, could not stand. Me being Elven and all).

I'm a Hunter, so I get a few really cool spells that (when I weave them together with an almost musical amount of key-clacking) allow me to know where all hostile creatures are in relation to me. So I seemingly ran eyes-closed through this forest of enemies; maneuvering *just so*-- darting first left, then forward, then left again -- never stopping and not always going in the exact right direction, but always getting *that* much closer to Stonetalon Peak. A few times I goofed just by a hair (you see, with young Kapo trailing behind me, sometimes the small shifting gaps between us and those knife-wielding loggers were so fine that although I was able to slip past them, he was not. Since he was blind to this sea of goblin-loggers, giant-spiders, and Cliffstormers, all he could do was follow and trust). The resulting pitched battles were a bit hairy, but Stabby was eager for blood and gleefully threw himself into the fray with. um. glee.

After a good ten minutes, we finally made it through Windshear Crag and headed for the Peak. I made a little detour so Kapo, having not ever been up this way, could visit the local hippograph master and add the Peak to his little book and come back whenever he wanted. Without me.

Tho the crag was infested with swarms of enemies, the way up to the peak harbored a different sort of danger. With far fewer hungry beasts, many of the Horde (these are actual players that are my enemies) found it convenient to lay ambushes for us peacable Alliance-members along the path to the Peak. Having experienced this first-hand, I warned Kapo this while giving him a hand up.

Sure enough, a mile or so down the road what did we see but two larger-stronger Horde-members about to jump a determined, if tired-looking, priest -- jogging his way up to the summit. Unfortunately we were so far away that we were sure to be of little help. At seeing what was about to happen Kapo fixed me with a grim look and I nodded. We tore down the side of the cliff roaring obscenities and curses -- distracting the cloven-hooved Warrior and green-skinned Rogue from their human lunch. In vain. Upon seeing our determined charge, the Tauren dispatched the hapless priest and turned at me. The Orc grinned and made a rude guesture as his form shimmered and then disappeared! As he was the one I was intent on, I took pause and fruitlessly cast about for him. As I was searching, someone stunned me from behind. I'm not sure which one it was. Thing is, in my haste to save the priest, I didn't even take the time to call my scorpid to battle! And stunned as I was, I couldn't pull out my whistle and call for his aid! After a few moments, I came to and was amazed at the sight that I saw. Kapo had somehow not only drawn the Tauren off of me, but was also somehow using his Druidic magic to entangle the Orc with tree roots WHILE deflecting blows that the Tauren was raining down on him!

Unfortunately, he tired sooner than I was able to get my shit together (having been in relatively few battles with other people, I was admittedly frazzled and fell to pieces), and I was cut down. Kapo fell soon after.

Long story short, the pair were able ambush us a second time and butcher us. The third time they had another compatriot with them, but WE were ready. This third battle took much longer, but we were able to dispatch all three with teamwork. I finally gathered my wits so that I directed Stabby well enough and aimed true enough that Kapo was able to slay them without too much trouble. I was then able to guide Kapo to the fallen-Mage and together we took him down so easily we laughed. He was rather dim compared to the pair we had faced so many times on our way. Sure he had a dozen mercs guarding him, but they didn't work together as a team, so we picked them off two at a time and took the Mage's head to the Astranaarians as proof of our feat.


0057.Tuesday, November 30. 2004


'A Good Fit'

When I got to American University, I have to say, I was rather disappointed by the "college experience". Then I transferred to WashU and found I felt the same way. There were contributing factors, but I think that moving to a new city is a lot like getting used to the new girlfriend.

I found that when I started dating someone new, her body didn't quite physically fit with mine as easily as the old did. And I don't necessarily mean sex here. I mean in an embrace or walking arm-in-arm. Just random puzzle-pieces jammed together.

A new city is the same way. At first it's awkward and at times you wonder if you made the right decision. But after a while you turn around and realize that you're home.


0311.Thursday, November 18. 2004

c o m m e n t s


'That's fucking incredible dude. I wish I knew how to do cool stuff.'

John Jarzemsky
1631.Thursday, Nov 18. 2004

'Gravity, What? revisited'

uh-yes. that is me.

Clip 1
Clip 2


2358.Monday, October 18. 2004




I've been meaning to post these pics from Nightmarket for a while: they're from after CNYF last year. Muchos gracias Niarcas for elbowing up to the front and snapping such wonderful pics ;)


0059.Wednesday, October 6. 2004

'on the mend'

I broke my left middle finger the night after Rachel and I were done, almost exactly two years ago. Come to think, the hurts from that time, in a way, mirror eachother:

Most of the time, I don't even think about my finger. It's long past gotten to the point where I can use it again, it just doesn't quite bend all the way. If I force it, there's a twinge and suddenly I find myself in a world of pain, even tho it's been such a long long time. In fact, I wonder if it's ever going to heal all the way.

Also, I have a very acute fear of rubber sneakers on wet wood. Especially if there's cement nearby (this means that I'm afraid of commitment).


1518.Monday, October 04. 2004


'Lucien, the one-armed grocer'

The night before last I went to a Steak and Shake drive-thru for the first time. I was in something of a hurry and ordered the first thing I saw on their menu (a single-patty cheeseburger that totalled up to approximately $2.77). I pulled up, handed over my money and waited for my burger.

and waited...

and waited.

I began to get impatient and annoyed that my single-patty-everything-but-mayo-burger was taking so long to make until I looked through the drive-thru window. Inside I saw a young man in his early 30's in a spotless Steak&Shake uniform (crisply ironed) piecing together half a dozen burgers.

He was working quickly and efficiently. But not hurriedly. Competence curled off of him like smoke: I haven't seen anyone work so deliberately and with so much care, outside of studio.

He finished with my burger and in three quick swipes had it packaged and bagged. He handed me my dinner, looked me straight in the eye, apologized sincerely for the delay, and nodded as I mumbled goodbye.

So overwhelmed was I by this man that the look he gave me is burned into my memory. In his eyes was not disinterest that i expected and have become accustomed to -- but rather a striking dignity which made me think to myself, "I want to be like him."


0159.Tuesday, September 28. 2004

'an old old poem'

It was a cruel mirage, but we could pretend it wasn't;
to wallow in the bitter and bathe in the sweet
for a time too short. All we ever had was stolen time
and I was always supposed to be somewhere else: even this last time,
but I couldn't untangle myself just yet.
We lay there, not really spent, but unable to go on,
caught in the reverie.
After all these years, we still fit
like worn puzzle pieces.
All I wanted was to soak more of her in.

"You know that you are the best thing
that ever happened to me," she said with a rueful sigh,
"but I'm afraid that I was the worst thing
that ever happened to you."
she sounded so contrite. So sincere.

I thought about it for a moment.
About how grey I was before her and how she smeared
paint all over my life
in the most dazzling ways.
"That's only because I lost you."

--July 2003

listening to: Eve 6 - Girlfriend


2158.Wednesday, September 15. 2004

c o m m e n t s


'Gymnastics makes me shorter and hurt.'

0931.Monday, Sept 20. 2004

'Gravity, what?'

I highly endorse going to Gymnastics. To everyone. Even people who've never done it before. Even people who don't have the 'gymnastics body type' (read as: that of a twelve-year-old girl).

I've been going to "Open Gyms" for like a year now. I've found places in Dallas and Saint Louis that do it, so I'm pretty sure that they're everywhere. It's basically set up for adults who are curious or used to do gymnastics when they were younger. What these gyms do, see, is open their doors to the public, so to speak. For usually around $5-$10 you can go play in their foam pits, on their rings, on their trampolines (scary, I know), and their floors (these things add a WHOLE lot of spring into your jump AND cushion your fall so you can fall on your neck and not die). Most have coaches that hang out and help you learn whatever you wanna learn.

The first night I went to one, I learned a backflip (admittedly it was into the pit or off of blocks. But I was hooked).

So like I said, I've been going to these Open Gyms a couple of times a month for almost a year now.

And now I can do shit like THIS!
thanks Darryl, for bringing your camera last week.


0353.Wednesday, April 07. 2004

c o m m e n t s


'I believe that "pH scale of sexuality" you refer to is called the Kinsey scale. Something you remember when it's your last name spelled backwards. ::cough::'

1600.Saturday, April 24. 2004



So over the weekend I had an interesting conversation about homosexuality with an old acquaintance, who happens to be gay.

I'd always thought that sexuality fit on this scale -- like pH. That everyone's bisexual to some degree and that if you're just really straight or really gay you're at 1 and 14 respectively with bisexuality being in the middle (and most people being closer to the center than they'd be willing to admit).

B-boy says no. He asked me this one question and he drew a very distict line between the homo and heterosexuality.

"There are two beautiful naked people right there," he points to a spot a few feet away from me. "One is a woman and is just as gorgeous as the man standing next to her. Would you fuck the man?"

I thought for a second and, though I could recognize his beauty, i absolutely would not want to have sex with a man, regardless of how hot he was. I had thought that just my ability to appreciate another man's physique without being sexually attracted to him put me at like a 2 or 3 on my scale--

"Nah! That's the point! Anyone can appreciate a good body: but if you're not sexually attracted to a man, you're straight. That's it."


1505.Tuesday, March 9. 2004

'Faux Pimp'

So last night I went with a couple of my buddies to the gym (I'm visiting Houston for part of the week). Mike told me that he thought that there was a martial arts room somewhere in the building, so I went to investigate as he struck up a game of basketball w/ a couple other guys.

I asked for directions at the front desk, where the deskman scratched his beard with a thoughtful expression and said, "Well, I suppose the activities room would be the closest thing to that: follow those stairs, hang a right at the end of the hall, pass the pool, go through a set of double doors, and it'll be on your right."

I thanked him for the trouble and jogged up the stairs. After a while I found the room he was talking about and I found that it was very much like the dance room I have trained in many a time at home, and who is inside but my old classmate from highschool: Elizabeth!

She was properly shocked and snagged my arm and led me downstairs. After a brief exchange, she borrowed a pen from the deskman, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing, and gave me her number. She then bade me well and skipped off to her dance lesson.

Upon leaving the gym with Mike and Giresh, I pretended as though I'd gotten the number from a random girl. ~_^


0547.Friday, March 5. 2004


I arrived in my hometown today. I visited my friend, Ashish. He still goes to school with my younger sister and is good friends with her, so she came too. And eight other friends of theirs. As I'm several years older than them (with the significant gap of having lived on my own for those years) I felt more out of place than I would normally have at a party of that small magnitude. It ended early and I drove my sister home with the full intention of going to bed; but as I was parked in front of my house I abruptly decided not ot go in.

I called some of my friends looking for a place to go, but the ones still in high school were in for the night and my other friends were either not in town or unreachable.

Instead I drove to one of my old haunts, not really sure why. It's a small coffeeshop that's always packed at two in the morning (as there aren't all that many places to go that hour).

So I got to the coffeeshop and sat at the bar and ordered myself one of their gigantic lattes and a slice of cheesecake. I sat and drank and ate; though I was still pretty full from the meal I had eaten at Ashish's not an hour before. I hadn't thought to bring a book or even my sketchbook, so I sat and stared (at the wall, as my seat did not face the room, much to my chagrin): the whole while wondering why I had even come, as I've always found eating alone in a public place both uncomfortable and depressing.

Occasionally I'd furtively glance around, but I was in a huge well-lit crowd of talking strangers. After a couple of dozen minutes, a girl snagged her sweater on my chair and I was forced to turn around and help her out of it (I say this because stewing in my own depression had left me relatively surly) and found myself face-to-face with Stephanie Nadalo.

She, of course, didn't recognize me: she'd graduated high-school a year or two before I did. Back then she had been one of the few unapproachable art-goth chicks that my school was in short supply of. She'd always been cute and I must confess that I had something of a crush on her back in the day, but she was pretty unattainable back then so...

She tugged herself free and I only managed to croak out her name after she was too far away to hear. I locked eyes with one of her friends trailing after her and managed to mouth the fake-question, "Stephanie Nadalo?"

He nodded silently (well...he didn't move his mouth -- I doubt I would have heard if he had spoken as it was so loud in the cafe). He turned, left and came back with Stephanie. After all these years she looked exactly the same -- the same raven-black hair and piercing gaze; I have to admit I still felt a little of the awe of her I had back in school. She smiled and arched an eyebrow while setting an elbow amiably on the bar next to me, "So where do I know you from?" she asked in a manner that gave me a start.

During our short conversation I completely revised my perception of her. It's funny how you can spend so many years around someone, never talk to her, and build up a persona in your mind of that person that would end up being so very wrong. Stephanie be friendly? I'd honestly never even considered the possibility. Maybe it was because she never really smiled...at least not around me. But she smiled tonight -- is this something that she learned how to do in the interim since high school? Or had i just never given her the opportunity to?

Anyways, after a few brief exchanges (she was mildly surprised to find that I was studying sculpture at college and advised me to stick with it) she rejoined her friends. We didn't know eachother, afterall. We had few things to say.

I turned back to my cheesecake and coffee. When i was finished I was a little disappointed to find that she'd compeltely disappeared from the cafe. On my way out I almost stumbled into her and friend again, but I turned in the opposite direction -- to my car.

I'd gotten what I'd come for.



Senior Year's Entries
more snaps
really? but you don't look THAT geeky
fucking lucky
Miss Matador
+ Snaps
spotting a virgin
+ The Fall of the Warrior and Rogue
a misunderstood misunderstanding
in a nutshell
on a lighter note
the checklist revisited
the checklist
the difference
+ a good fit
Worth It?
+ Gravity, What? revisited
line weight
+ waaaah
Jesus was a doormat
the da Vinci code of conduct
+ on the mend
+ Lucien, the one-armed grocer
+ an old old poem
one is silver and the other..?
the day of *rest*
+ Gravity, what?
I don't quite remember
the honest drunk
I'm sorry, I wasn't listening

June 2004 Entries

What a day. . .
Wisdom and Baggage
Woo woo

April 2004 Entries
Happiness and Housing
Fickle as a Pickle
She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not
Child of the Night
Worthwhile Consequences
Faux Pimp

September 2003 Entries