The Chronicles Of Jessica

For those of you who have been perturbed about not being able to make comments on the entries, WebMaster Marcus is looking into it. He says it may require some sort of new configuration specs, which I think is computer guy speak for "head of a live chicken."

A quick shout-out to my buddy Vadim, whose Off-Broadway musical, 'Putman County Spelling Bee' has been nominated for (at least six that I know of) Tony awards. When I spoke with him this morning to congratulate him, he said the phone has been ringing off the hook but the callers have not, disappointingly, been offering no-strings sex. He has given tentative permission for me to hold the Tony if they do win one, but only if I wash my hands thoroughly and don't look directly at it.

Some readers (my mother) may feel that I should also have been nominated for a Tony by now. To them (her) I would say this: It takes time to build a career. Maybe I could have won a couple Tonys by now if you hadn't been constantly interrupting my career chi with harranging me about making you a grandmother, and wondering aloud why Judy from the Snapple ads has such commercial viability when I'm clearly funnier, and pointing out that Renee Zellweger is a squinting stick figure who doesn't even come close to me.

I do agree with those last two assessments, though. Love you, Ma!

Moving on. I was thinking today that I could possibly stand to develop a little more grace and poise before being that much in the public eye, anyway. For some reason embarassing things just seem to befall me constantly, I'm at a loss to explain it. In the last week alone, the following incidents have threatened to rid me of any shred of dignity I still possess.

1. Standing up to exit the A train at 42nd St., I discovered that a pair of panties had gotten stuck in the leg of my jeans in the wash cycle and had chosen this particular moment in time to make their escape out of my pants and onto the subway floor. I did consider simply leaving them there but several people had spotted the offending undergarments and were eyeing me worriedly so I really had no choice but to pick them up and stuff them (as nonchalantly as possible) into my purse. Besides, they were a favorite pair.

2. At Cafe Metro near Grand Central Station, I was preparing a fountain cup of diet coke when I grasped the cup too close to the lid, thereby causing the lid to pop off and soda to spew all over the counter, the floor, and me. Fortunately I was wearing brown tights at the time. The Sprite consumer next to me? Not so lucky.

3. I keep setting off the security alarms at the Duane Reade Pharmacy every time I go into one. It doesn't seem to matter which one, or what I have on, which purse I am carrying, or even if I've made a purchase: the alarms at Duane Reade will blare loudly whenever I enter or exit. This in turn prompts the ever-vigilant Duane Reade security team to search me thoroughly before letting me pass through the door, whereupon the alarms blare again, and all the other customers look at me pityingly as though I have a shoplifting problem.

4. At a meeting recently, I needed to duck out early so I tried to sneak behind this faux-chinese screen at the back edge of the room so as not to disturb the speaker or the other attendees. But the screen was deceptively flimsy, having been put together with these three little interlocking tabs instead of several panels held together by, oh I don't know, let's say a HINGE? (Pier One, I hate you and everything you stand for.) All three of the panels came apart simultaneously and I stood there holding them up and feeling like a B episode of I Love Lucy until a fairly ominous silence from the other half of the room alerted me to the fact that the speaker had stopped speaking, and the other attendees had most definitely been disturbed.

"I was trying to be unobtrusive," I said brightly. No one laughed. Which made it worse.

5. I pulled out a drawer in the desk at work and it came completely apart from the rollers, spilling pens and post it notes into my lap and onto the floor. Loudly. This, I actually managed THRICE. Mm hm. Three times. Nice of them to put the temp at the defective desk. As a subtle act of defiance in response to their courtesy, I took a bunch of the pens home with me.

So maybe it's kind of an okay thing that I'm not up for any major awards any time soon. You never see that kind of thing happening to Renee Zellweger. Of course when you have that kind of money and you do stupid things, you're known as 'eccentric'. When poor people do dumb stuff, well, it's just dumb.

And yes, Auntie Jan, I'll run those panties through the wash before I wear them again. Mea culpa.