nakedjen

Predictable Can Never Be Orange

This morning I autographed and signed some Nakedjen photos and shipped them off to kind folks who had ordered them.  Kind folks just like you who happen to read this website and decided they actually really did want a signed and autographed photo of me. 

DearSweetDave asked me if ten years ago I ever would have imagined that I would be sending an autographed naked photo of myself to a stranger?

Honestly?

No. 

Ten years ago I didn't even know DearSweetDave.  He was not part of my universe.  So truthfully, ten years ago I never would have imagined that I'd be married.  To a husband.  And I certainly would not have imagined that I'd be sending autographed naked photos of myself to strangers who read all about my life with that husband on the Internet.

In fact, I don't think I could have even possibly imagined much of my life as it is now.

But that's what makes life so much fun and so interesting.

You can dream, you can imagine, you can hope for what you want your life to be and then things even more beautiful and incredible than you possibly dreamed or imagined happen!

I am so grateful that life is like that.  I wouldn't want it to be predictable.  Predictable can never be orange. 

Out Out Damn Itch!

this is an absolutely true story.

i went to urgent care today because last night while i was sleeping i was attacked by the poison oak monster. he obviously licked me all over my legs and my left eye. this morning i woke up with blistered inflamed angry skin and my left eye was swollen shut. i looked like i had just been in the boxing ring with rocky balboa and rocky had obviously won.

our friend benedryl helped with the eye swelling, but not enough to really make a huge difference. plus i was ingesting my own tea concoctions and homeopathic remedies, but those take time for results.  and i was a tad worried because, well, poison oak is not something i usually get. in fact, i haven't had an outbreak of poison oak in over 15 years. but the last one i had? i ended up in the hospital.

i'm wondering if all that cleansing i've been doing somehow has cleansed my immunity to poison oak right out of me? that will teach me for cleansing my colon, huh?

anyway, i decided after some deliberation that i should go to urgent care. really, it was about my eye. i know not to itch and scratch, but the blistering on my eye seemed to be on the inside of my eyelid and i just wanted to be sure that all was okay.

so i went to our local urgent care facility. and i was shocked to see that there was absolutely NO ONE in the waiting room. not a soul. i walked up and as soon as i finished giving the receptionist my name, the door swung open and they were calling me back. in other words, they were not busy today. at all.

so back i go. the PA asks me all the usual questions. why am i there? oh poison oak is so nasty. where is it? oh, man, those are some very angry blisters! this just happened last night? how did you get it?

i explain about the two large black hairy beasts that share my home and who love to roam in poison oak bushes. and then rub their bodies all over me. without telling me that they've just roamed in poison oak bushes. because they're nice and sweet black hairy beasts who don't want to frighten or upset me.

the PA takes my temperature, takes my blood pressure, takes my pulse and then tells me the doctor will be right in. and it was a revolving door at urgent care today because as soon as she left in he walked. literally. in.out.

so now i'm chatting with dr. drecker. who is a very nice and personable doctor. and he's asking many of the same questions that the PA asked. and i'm answering. and he tells me that the best solution is to give the two black hairy beasts baths. in hot soapy water. and not allow them to go roam in the poison oak anymore.

okay, right, i say. do you want to tell them that? because if i tell them that there will be mutiny and they're going to eat my couch. they LOVE lighthouse field. and they love to chase one another through the bushes. and play wild kingdom. it's one of their most favorite games. i don't think i can tell them that after their hot soapy water baths they will no longer be going to lighthouse field. i'm serious. they'll eat my couch.

so he tells me that he's my pal in all of this. honestly that's what he said. "jen, i'm your pal." and then he tells me he's writing me a prescription for a steroid. to stop my body's immune response. he cautions me that the steroid needs to be eaten with food because it might upset my stomach. and that it also might make me "wiry".

i told him that if there is a possible side effect, no matter how remote, i will be his patient that gets the side effect. that's me. i'm his one in a million patient. it's his lucky lottery day.

so he's writing away in my chart and on his prescription pad and he says, "well if they catch you running naked down pacific avenue just blame the doctor and blame the drugs!"

i smirk and ask him if i can quote him on that?

and without even looking at me he continues, "actually, no one is going to even notice you naked on pacific avenue. so if they catch you running naked with your dogs in lighthouse field, just blame the doctor and blame the drugs!"

again, i giggle and ask if i can quote him on that?

at this point, he looks up. and he's handing me my prescriptions. and he notices my t-shirt. my nakedjen t-shirt. that i happen to be wearing. my shirt that says, "i'd rather be naked!"

and he laughs and says, "look at your shirt! oh wow. well, you most certainly need to just blame the doctor and blame the drugs!"

and then he shook my hand and told me to have a great day and he left.  just like that. 

but i can tell you this. poison oak or no poison oak, the next time i get in trouble for being naked? i am so blaming the doctor and then i'm blaming the drugs.

Tubas Instead of Bombs

last night i went to an auction for a local elementary school. my friend holly took me as her date because her husband chris is in portland figuring out their house. it made me so sad that this local elementary school was having an auction in order to make sure that they could provide arts and crafts and music and gym classes.

the entire community had donated things for the auction and there was really good stuff. and all the parents and grandparents were there and they were bidding on these items and of course overbidding and paying lots more than value because it was going to the school.

but here's the thing. this is a public school. all those parents (and grandparents) already pay taxes to the state and county to have their children attend that school. steep taxes, by the way. this is one of the most expensive places to live in the whole country! and yet they were still having to pay $1,000 for a beach cruiser bicycle (not that they were forced to) so that their kids can have art in their schools.

this is wrong.

very wrong.

and i came home depressed. i don't even have kids. but my taxes are not being used fairly or wisely if the kids in the schools in my neighborhoods can not have art and music if we don't hold a bake sale.

and i know that this is not new news. i know that this is OLD news. but i also, again, don't have kids. so i don't think about it as often.

i think when we pay our taxes we should be able to tick a box that says where 5% of our tax money is going. not all of it. 95% can go wherever the hell the governments, US, state and local, decree it should go. buy more bombs if that's what you need to do. but 5%? 5% should be able to go to buying tubas if that's what i want.

tubas instead of bombs. 

imagine if all of us, every single tax paying citizen in america, had the choice to give 5% of our tax dollars to whatever program we wanted? we could tick a box. just 5%. i think we'd still see a significant improvement in our educational funding. and in lots of other social programs. i just do.

because at the end of the day i don't believe that all americans want all their tax dollars to be spent on the war machine. 

i believe that some people want tubas instead of bombs.

Keep On Rocking In The Free World

Oh yes.  I feel all safe and secure and I'm not worried about terrorist activities at all now, are you??

Actually, I think if our President spent more time dancing and less time concerning himself with bombing insurgents, well, maybe this spinning blue ball we all call home might actually be a more peaceful place.

But that's just me.

And I do hope, sincerely, that he keeps his promise about fighting malaria in Africa and around the world.  But I guess we'll have to see about that, won't we?

How's That Working For You?

Thank you, all of you, who voted.  You're the best.  We didn't win, of course.  The boy with the dog won.  So next time, Buddha and Stella are starring in the film.  Forget my ass, it's the dog that always wins!

I am beginning to realize that I am not very good at keeping track of my daily life.  I am currently using Google Calendar as well as a calendar on the wall next to my desk as well as another calendar downstairs and while this may seem like too many calendars, all three are synched up.  The problem is that I am not a calendar girl. 

I can write things on the calendar.  I can put appointments on the calendar.  I can send myself reminders and all that jazz.  But I have become quite adept at IGNORING the reminders, at forgetting to check the calendar and at missing appointments and dates and even special events all together.

Gah.

What I think I really need is a personal assistant.  Which is particularly laughable given that I am not a person who has a very busy life at all.  Really and truly.  I am the person who is usually other peoples' personal assistant.  Who keeps their life on track.  Who makes sure they don't miss important appointments and that all their bills are paid on time and that even their children are delivered to music lessons and play dates and birthday parties safely and on time and dressed appropriately. 

I am that person.  That is me.  I can make sure a household of five is on time, on budget and fed beautiful home-cooked organic vegan meals seven days a week. 

But should I need to show up to have my eyebrows waxed on Thursday at 2:00 p.m.? 

If you were a betting person you would place a bet in Vegas saying that Nakedjen not only will not show up on Thursday at 2:00 p.m. she will also schedule herself for two other conflicting appointments and/or activities for that very same time on that very same day.  Even though she checked all three calendars to be sure that she was absolutely, positively available and free.

Is this what happens when you turn 43?  Does your brain just go to mush?  Do you just completely forget what day it is, what time it is, who you promised what and how to make instant oatmeal?

Or do I need to schedule myself for an MRI that I will most likely forget anyway?

You, over there, what do you do to keep yourself all organized and on time and non-forgetful?  Care to share?

I'm certainly open to suggestions.  Because if Dr. Phil were to ask me "How's that working for you?" I'd honestly have to answer, "Not!"

FIVE STARS!

If you happen to be reading right this minute, go here.  And please give the film, NO TIME FOR EVACUATION five stars! 

I made it today using my cellphone and was not allowed to edit.  At all.  So it is what it is.  But it is in a contest and whichever film gets the most votes wins.

And well, you all know how much I just love to win!

So go vote!  Plus, you'll get to see me sort of naked....

Tripping with The Tripper

David Arquette tripped into Santa Cruz last night and properly dosed a sold-out crowd at the Santa Cruz Film Festival's opening night premiere of his film, The Tripper.  He brought along cast members Thomas Jane, Brad Hunt and the ever lovable Paul Reubens. 

Arriving at the theatre donned in a custom jeweled adorned suit reminiscent of Elvis and sporting a fade in his hair that even said "The Tripper", David and his crowd were greeted in proper Santa Cruz style by rocking street performers and a sidewalk full of gyrating dancing revelers. 

While his directorial debut has its challenges, it is a campy send-up that pits a Ronald Reagan serial killer against a bunch of peace-loving drug happy hippies who are hoping to attend a music festival in the redwoods. 

Yes, you read that correctly.  A Ronald Reagan serial killer. 

The movie is quite campy.  If you happen to have lived in Santa Cruz for the last twenty years and also spent much of your life on tour with the Grateful Dead, well, you can't help but laugh at many moments in this film.  Plus, you'll recognize at least two-thirds of all the extras.  At least I did.  In fact, I kept thinking to myself, where was I when they were filming this and why didn't I go participate?

The Tripper has not gotten distribution from a major studio, so David Arquette is going guerilla and has launched his own My Space page and is even doing his own small tour of movie theatres around the country.  It is opening today, 4.20. dude, at 50 theatres nationwide.  Not a large opening, but if enough people see it...well, you know how it goes.

If you're at all curious about a campy send up of life as a Santa Cruz peace love and drugs 20-something, you might just want to check out this film. 

And here's David in 60 seconds explaining just why his movie is a slasher movie.

So, there you have it.  If it's playing near you, go see it.  You can think about Nakedjen and Santa Cruz while you do.

BUT ON SECOND THOUGHT...

Never Afraid Of Being Naked

"...you realize how absolutely unique a gorgeous naked body is!"
This is worth reading and thinking about.  Really.

And when you're finished with that and are still thinking about it, you can go read this.

Utopia can't be far away, can it??

A Prayer for Mankind

I've had some additional thoughts about the recent violence at Virginia Tech.  Again, I am simply shattered by any senseless loss of life.  However, because my mind is an analytical mind and I am a person who is always seeking the larger answers, who takes the opportunity to examine our whole society and not just the soul who was responsible for the heinous crime, I can't help but think about how we, yes, you and I, are also in some way responsible for this. 

I hear some of you gasping and muttering to yourselves, already.  Nakedjen, you're going too far!  Nakedjen, how can we be responsible?  We fight for proper gun control!  We insist on better access to mental health care for all citizens!  We withhold our taxes to avoid paying for the war machine!

Perhaps you have done any one or all of those things.  If you have, I certainly commend you.  But I can't help but think about our society as a whole.  About the generation of children who are now students at our colleges.  How they have been raised in a country that for most of their lives has been involved in conflict on foreign soil.  Conflict that is so commonplace that we to speak out against it makes us anti-American.  Even more telling, for me, though is that the music of their generation and the video games of their generation somehow became very angry and violent.  And that anger and violence just became something that was completely acceptable.  First person shooter video games where the player kills people in order to gain points and master each level are the norm for our college students.  Not only that, but they have been spoon-fed by a media that is hell-bent on serving up the most heinous crimes of the day as regular dinner fare.  If they have a television, they have been watching with mind-numbing regularity on nearly every station thousands of bodies pile up in crime show after crime show.  How many CSI and Law and Order shows can we sustain?  There doesn't seem to be a stopping point.

Now, I'm not going to go all Tipper Gore on all of you and suggest that we censor ourselves.  I am not about censorship.  But I am about careful and wise choices.  And about good parenting.  Obviously, our media choices and video game choices in many ways reflect what our society demands.  If those shows and games were not selling, the producers would be finding what did!  But I can not help wonder how many of our children both here at home and stationed abroad, fighting in our armed forces, might at least feel some greater sense of remorse and dread if they hadn't been raised in a world that basically has both glorified violence and numbed them to the realities of death.

Last night, DearSweetDave attended one of his monthly men's group meetings.  The following prayer from Boysen Hodgson, the Center Director for the Mankind Project in New England, was shared.  While he speaks about men, in reality, I think it is something that all mankind should consider.  So I'm sharing it with all of you.  Namaste, my dear friends.  Namaste.

My friends, 

Pray for men. 
Pray for boys in men's bodies.
Pray for the boys that they were.

I am in pain this morning, grieving the tragedy in
Virginia, the tragedy in Dafur, the tragedy in Iraq
- the thousands of tragedies that are happening right now
that none of us know about. 

Men are picking up guns and getting ready to kill.
Men are mistaking their deep fear and bottomless grief for rage and righteousness. 
Men are believing that they are ALONE when they are only lonely and disconnected.
Men are covering themselves in impenetrable armor to protect their soft cores. 

This is the crisis of masculinity.
90 gun deaths every day in America.
90% committed by men and boys.
1 in 4 women assaulted or raped before the age of 18 - by a man 
- usually a man they know. 

These are our mothers, sisters and daughters.

This tragedy in Virginia started with male violence against a woman. 
(like so many others)
This is the crisis of masculinity.

So here is our challenge as NEW WARRIORS. 
To rewire our reactivity. 
To feel the fear and grief and help others feel it. 
To protect our communities from OURSELVES. 

These men out there are us. 
These are the living shadows that we have looked at in ourselves. 
The answer is not to get tougher. 

I must get softly PRESENT, 
I must get gently AWARE. 
I must share this AWARENESS, 
this SENSE OF BEING with other men and boys 
- to allow them to FEEL and to take conscious action in the world. 
To respond to their worlds rather than react.

We have to move through the ANGER and FEAR, 
we have to FEEL IT - unprotected, vulnerable, safe.
This is what we are inviting men to step into.

I bless the work you are doing today as a New Warrior.
I bless the fear and sadness.
I bless the quiet center of your being - that is ready to take conscious action. 

Write letters today. Call Congress (202-224-3121).
Pull your family close and share yourself with them.

I'm in, with sadness and hope.

Namaste, my dear friends.  Namaste.

33 Dead, We're Not Okay

What the fuck is wrong with people? 

The news from Virginia just has me, well, spinning.  I have a hard time understanding what happens in a person's head and makes him decide that today is a good day for killing.  Other people.  Lots of other people.  Then myself.

I send peace and light and compassion to everyone touched by this tragedy.  To the families of the victims and to the family of that person who decided that today was a good day for killing.  He had a family, too.

But I still ask, what the fuck is wrong with people?