Meme: The Ex Files

I seem to get a lot of my memes from Hannibal. Don't know what that says, so why philosophize about it? In any case, some of his answers were so dead on that I left his words as is (see *).

JUVENILE INSTRUCTIONS: Let's see if you can get through it. If not, you're too scared about your past.

Bring it, beyotch.*

1. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?
Probably. If it were under the same circumstances.

2. How many girlfriends/ boyfriends have told you they loved you?
Two, if I recall correctly. One of them only said it when he was under the influence, but it seemed heartfelt all the same.

3. Have you ever thought that you were going to marry a person?
Yes. But we won't elaborate here.

4. Are you crushing on someone?
Not in the least.

5. Have you ever liked someone so much that it hurt?
Yup.*

6. Have you ever made a boyfriend or girlfriend mad?
Have I ever not?*

7. Are you happier single or in a relationship?
Depends on which relationship is being discussed.*

8. Have you ever told someone you loved them and didn't mean it?
No. And it's made for some uncomfortable moments.

9. Have you ever had your heart broken?
Yup.*

10. Have you ever broken someone's heart?
Broken? Maybe just slightly maimed.

11. Think any of your ex's feel the same?
The same as what?*

12. Do you believe that you are a good boyfriend or girlfriend?
I have my moments.

13. Have you dated people who were not good to you?
Hell, yes.

14. Have you been in an abusive relationship?
No overtly so, no.

15. Have you dated someone older than you?
Yes.

16. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?
No.

17. Do you believe in love at first sight?
I did at the moment. But the next day...

18. Do you want to get married?
That's up for negotiation.*

19. Does heart break really feel as bad as its said to be?
Imagine having somebody take one of those toy claws, except it excretes hydrochloric acid. Then imagine somebody shoving it up your butt until they clasped the hooks around your heart, and then dragged it out. Slowly. Then they grab a skillet and sautee your heart right in front of you, and serve it to Hitler. It's a little bit worse than that.*

20. Would you believe your ex if she/he said they love you?
My last actual ex? Yes. And that's why it's over.

21. Would you date your best male/female friend?
I take the fifth.

22. Have any of your ex's called you by a nickname after the break up?
Yes. And that was awkward, to say the least.

23. Do you regret any of your relationships?
Funny enough, not really. Hell, even the worst ones are fun to joke about now.

Shark Article Gets New Life

Thanks to a certain shark-obsessed pal o' mine (no, I'm not referring to myself), my Isla Guadalupe has been cropping up on websites all around the web. In case you missed it the first go-round, read it now at one of the following:

Travel Explorations

RealTravel

IgoUgo

BootsnAll

Barbarians of the Indian Ocean

We all know I love sharks, but not so far as to feed them live domesticated animals as bait. Yes, some South Seas sickos are doing just that, actually hooking live animals through the nose and paws and letting them float -- alive and suffering -- as bait for sharks. I thought this was just one of those Internet rumors, until I saw the story on the National Geographic news site. Who are these people who come up with such vicious ideas?

Sign the petition.

And for the box that asks what you think should be done with the people who are caught, use your barbaric little imagination as to what their punishment should be.

Disambiguation

What's in a name? A good deal, judging by Google.

I changed my name some ten years back, after living quite comfortably with my birth moniker for the better part of two decades. I didn't stray far -- no "Norma Jean" for "Marilyn," "Patsy Anne McClenny" for "Morgan Fairchild," or "Frances Ethel Gumm" for "Judy Garland." I settled for a variant and even kept my middle and last names, knowing damn well I wasn't worthy of a mononym.

The obscene popularity of "Jennifer" was the reason I'd decided to ditch it in the first place. I'd already known that it was one of the most popular names of my generation, not because of the best-selling baby-naming book Beyond Jennifer and Jason (which has since been renamed to reflect more recent trends) but because 15% of the co-ed hallway in my freshman dorm claimed the same name. My sister, who disliked her name much more than I did, convinced me to make the switch. And thus Jenna Robbins was born. Again. And not for the first time.

Just two weeks ago, a namesake of mine emailed me to "say hi to herself." That prompted me to search Google to see how my name ranked, and to see how many others could claim the same byline. For the sake of disambiguation, I am not a:

• British alternative health expert (who spells her surname with a single B and also specializes in baby massage)
  
• Child missing since 1989
  
• "Junior hunter" from Maryland (hell, no)
  
• Volunteer for the Colorado Historical Society
  
• British youngster who created a nation-wide environmental mascot (kudos to her!)
  
• Canadian policy maker
  
• A sorority member from the University of Tennessee, Knoxville
  
• Santa Monica student who rips off Harry Potter artwork
  

So far, I've yet to find another "Jenna Rose Robbins." So consider that moniker claimed.

Concert Review: Morrissey

Since my first concert, way back in June of 1988 (guess who that was), I've seen more than a hundred concerts, but there are few artists that I've seen more than a handful of times. Morrissey is one of them. I've seen him so many times, in fact, that my mother actually recognized his name when I told her I was on my way to see him at the Hollywood Bowl. (To put this in perspective, she still doesn't know who Nine Inch Nails or Bjork is.)

My many Moz concerts have had their moments. When I saw him at the Palace of Auburn Hills, back when I was in college at UM, I landed choice floor seats and snuck up so close his sweat sprayed me when he whipped the mic around in his humble trademark move. Near the end of the show, he bared his chest (this was before his pudgy phase) and then -- and I swear this -- he looked straight at me as he flung his shirt into the crowd. I'm fortunate to be taller than the average greaser, and so caught the sleeve just before a multitude of hands ripped it to shreds faster than you could recite one of his song titles (admittedly, a long time). I managed to cling to a small blue-checked patch, which I kept sealed in a plastic baggy above my desk for many years. (Note to self: Check hope chest for baggy next time I'm back at Mom's.)

A few years earlier, during my high school years on Long Island, I also managed to weasel my way to the front, this time just as the Jones Beach crowd began to swarm the stage. I've never felt the urge to ensnare one of my idols in a bear hug -- at least, not enough to catapult myself over a moat of security thugs. But when the five rows behind you decide to simultaneously rush the stage, there's not much you can do but ride the tide -- that is, until a meaty-handed thug shoves you by the face back into the sweaty, teeming masses from whence you came. The highlight of the event came hours later, while my friend and I huddled by my phone to relate the tale to the local radio station. Had my high school been the least bit cool, I would have had classmates congratulating me for my call-in the next day. But dirtbags, JAPs, and stoners didn't listen to way-cool WDRE (ne WLIR).

Although my experience at the Hollywood Bowl show this past Friday was much more mellow than any of my melodramatic Moz encounters of years past, it was still memorable. The two friends with me put up with my narrating ("This is the song based on the Krays!" "This is the song he stopped in the middle of when we rushed the stage back in '91!" "He used to live in LA, you know. That's why all the references."), which I couldn't help doing despite how much it bothers me when others do so. After about five songs I stopped, but more because of the waves of nostalgia than due to any notion of propriety.

It was more than just the music, the pop-culture-laden references, and memories of concerts of yore. In the middle of the concert, I found myself texting, for Chrissake. "At a Morrissey concert. Wish you were here," I pinged a friend up north. Due to a mutual loss, his music means more to us than it should. And last Friday night, the emotions came swelling back -- but kindly, this time. And for the first time in nearly ten years, I listened to "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want" with a smile, even if the lyrics pleated otherwise.

Save the Great White Shark! (Seriously)

You may not think that sharks need protection. After all, the most fiercesome of the sea's denizens is an apex predator. Jaws sure as hell doesn't need a bodyguard. Right?

Because we humans like to kill them, that's why -- and sometimes for no better reason than because we can. That's one of the reasons why our South-of-the-Border neighbors recently declared Isla Guadalupe a biosphere reserve, to protect waters known to be a haven for the largest predatory fish in the sea. (Another reason, of course, is that the tourism industry that has sprung up around this far-off rock brings in tidal waves of money.)

If Mexico -- a country where they still paint donkeys to look like zebras -- can get their act together for such an altruistic purpose, why can't the rest of the so-called free world?

Now go check out my shark videos:

Dan Quayle Wuz Here

Spotted in Seattle's Pike Place Market:

If you can't spell the product you're selling, I ain't buying it.

Hogwarts, Take Me Away

I have to wait until when? Sheesh, someone's got to learn to build their theme parks a little faster. How's a gal supposed to keep her wizardly robes on waiting for the Harry Potter-themed park to open in 2009 -- late 2009 at that?

I'd always wished they'd open a Goonies theme park, complete with water slide and pirate ship playground, but no one's seen fit to do so yet. And now that that flick's more than 20 years old, I bet some studio is floating the idea for a sacreligious remake.