I don't know if anyone's planning on getting me wintery goodness this holiday season, but I just found Chelsea's Facebook wishlist and it made my life easier, so I'm gonna make one for y'all just in case.

DVDs are easy to shop for, right? Let's stick to a DVD-only wish list.

( Proceed! )

This is just here to remind me that I have a fucking livejournal. Um, hello. Place to type right here.

I think part of the reason I never update is because everything I have to say ever is either related to Amanda Palmer stuff or porn. Fact. I've gotten so sick of listening to myself think. I need to hang out with people with new conversation topics. People who won't let me talk, because if I do, then I WILL go back to my default topics.

So what else is new? I'm in love. That's exciting. She's seeing someone else. That's less exciting. I'm trying to hang onto the whole giddy, optimistic part of feeling full of love while conveniently ignoring the whole heartbreak part. It works sometimes.

I may actually get top surgery soon, guys. I've opted to go for a breast reduction rather than a full mastectomy. In my head, if I'm just getting a basic surgical procedure for the purpose of not having to bind anymore, that is somehow better and less cosmetic than getting the full reconstruction. Also, I've heard you can get it completely covered. Um, yes please. I'm investigating this as we speak. As I type. Whatever. But if I'm right, then I could be breastless by, say...June? Maybe? Like, soon. I've been putting it off because I totally haven't felt quite ready for it yet, but I'm actually settling into it quite comfortably now. I think I'll rock it. I'm gonna cry like a bitch once they're gone, but in a good way. My boobs have been a big part of my life, and I will need to mourn them. It's like breaking up with someone who's played a huge role in your life, but the relationship just isn't working out.

This entry was originally going to be a single sentence. Then I actually wrote things. Weird.

Actually, I wrote this because I noticed Beth added me as an LJ friend. When I looked at my LJ, the last five or so entries are all about working for her. That's awkward. Something had to be added in to dilute that a bit.

Must stop now, for I am supposed to be getting work done and this fucking ad on the sidebar is hurting my eyes.

CONGRATULATIONS YOU ARE THE 999,999TH VISITOR TO MY LIVEJOURNAL YOU WIN THE GRAND PRIZE

EMAIL CHARLIESPATS AT GMAIL DOT COM TO CLAIM YOUR PRIZE*






*the prize is you taking me to Bon's and buying me breakfast

Beth had a really awful time last night. A new product went up on Post-War Trade and a ton of orders poured in, got fucked up and required fixing. Since Beth is my boss, I did my best to help out, but there was only so much that could be done from across the continent. You can read her post about it here.

I just checked in with her a few minutes ago on AIM. After making sure she wasn't mid-crisis:

Jessie: since things are speeding up a bit, I should probably tell you now that I have a weekend-long training session (for Condomania!! I'm stoked) coming up
Jessie: 5-9pm on Friday, 10-5pm Saturday and Sunday
Jessie: so I won't be able to help with stuff for most of this weekend
Jessie: but I can when I get home
Beth: dude, i am taking the weekend off to make art and fuck my girlfriend

I love my job.

I know I talk about Amanda Palmer too much. I am not oblivious to the fact that it probably annoys people who try to communicate with me. I’m sorry. I’ll work on that tomorrow, when it is no longer the 1-year anniversary of the WKAP album release date. Ordinarily I wouldn’t make a fuss about an album’s birthday, but, well, Who Killed Amanda Palmer is no ordinary album. It’s the kind of shit that’s worth writing about.

Originally I was going to write a ton about all the reasons why I love WKAP and Amanda Palmer’s work, but just writing about my own history with it took long enough, so I’m just gonna leave it like this.

( MY HISTORY WITH WKAP )

I caught up on sleep today.
I applied for work today.
I converted songs today. (For Thee Ahs)
I sorted bottles today.
I washed dishes twice today.
I did laundry thrice today.
I tidied my room today.
I cleaned my toilet today.
I posted merch pics today. (Of fan-made Amanda Palmer products, which can be found on Post War Trade's MySpace)
I read lots of tweets today. (about Amanda Palmer)
I sorted through press today. (about Amanda Palmer)
I made a spreadsheet today. (about Amanda Palmer)
I sent Beth emails today. (about Amanda Palmer)
I found a new mug today. (it looks like Spongebob Squarepants. Not Amanda Palmer)
I took out the trash today.

And I'm on fire.


I'm so tired I can barely type. I haven't even changed out of my #LOFNOTC shirt yet. It is hella bedtime.

Last week, I was hired as Beth's bitch.

Beth Hommel (@bethofalltrades, for you Twitter-types) is Amanda Palmer's assistant. I've been asking her for ages if there was any way I could work for her (in the name of Art, for I am not getting paid), and she finally found a place for me. As Beth's newest bitch, it is my duty to do the things that Beth does not have time to do. Currently, my regular tasks include:

-Doing a daily search on Twitter for "amandapalmer", "amanda palmer" and "WKAP". Basically, I'm reading absolutely everything that Twitter users are writing about Amanda. I then sort through it all and send the important stuff to Beth and Sean (Sean is Amanda's main internet-type guy).
-Receiving daily Google alerts for "Amanda Palmer", looking through it for interesting press and good quotes, and sending the highlights to Beth and Sean once a week.
-Searching once weekly (and for a few days following each of Amanda's live shows) on YouTube for particularly good clips being uploaded of her. I send the best ones to Beth and Sean.

I started doing this less than a week ago. It's tedious, but fun, and it feels like I'm doing something for a reason, which is always a nice feeling.

However, today this happened:

bethofalltrades I wish I had someone who I could make get up at 4AM to call a copy shop in Edinburgh for me. A little sleep for Beth, coming up...

charliespats @bethofalltrades If it's a call someone other than you can make, I could do it. That's only 1am my time.

bethofalltrades OMG Twitter is magical. As is @charliespats. Check yo email, punk!

So NOW I'm in charge of calling some copy shop on the other side of the planet at 1am and asking if they've printed an order submitted two days ago by either Beth Hommel or Amanda Palmer. If they say no, then I have to order 500 A4 flyers cut in half to make 1000 B&W flyers with an image that I will either email to them or upload (whichever they prefer) and then ask them if the flyers can be picked up by Amanda that afternoon, and if so, can she pay with credit card then, or do they need to receive payment in advance?

Suddenly I feel very important and afraid. I'd rather not fuck this up, considering the fact that the first person to actually see whether I succeed or fail will be Amanda Palmer herself, and I'd kind of like to continue doing scary/important work for her.

I won't fuck it up. It'll be fine. Beth told me to text her if anything goes wrong. But it won't.

Anyway. One hour 'til the daily Twitter check.

This was so important that I simply had to post about it immediately.

Wow, Tegan and Sara are really weirdly addictive. I was so sick of them last year and now I am totally into them. I blame The Lesbians. All of them.

While watching their music videos, my inner film maker decided that directing a T&S video would be really exciting. (I mean artistically, not just in the "Wow, I'm working with Tegan and Sara" way.) You see, as much as I like their existing videos (I'm kind of in love with the Call It Off one), there are a lot of things that aren't happening in the videos that I would like to see. Like...each video touches on one really good idea, but leaves out another one entirely.

Here is my theoretical recipe for a perfect Tegan and Sara video:

1) Get them to do things other than playing music. Fans love T&S because they are silly and cute and tell funny stories and fuck up on stage a lot. Use that. Make them do silly things. The Monday Monday Monday video is lots of fun, but even really well-shot videos like Living Room end up being really boring in comparison. (Although the rain at the end is pretty cool.)

2) Use one of Tegan's songs. Tegan songs involve Sara a lot more than Sara songs involve Tegan. If you were to take Tegan out of a video like Walking With A Ghost, you would just have to change the beginning and end a tiny bit, because the middle is aaaaall Sara. In fact, there are enough Saras in that video to have one of them just do Tegan's part for her. However, I Hear Noises shows both of them at all times, and would be shot and edited very differently if Sara was not there.

3) Shoot the video at The Cultch. Okay, that's not actually one of my points, but I just watched the I Hear Noises video for the first time and I love that I've hung out in that theatre a million times.

Let's give #3 another shot.

3) Another reason why Tegan's songs are better for music videos is because Tegan's singing face looks awesome on film. Sara, of course, looks beautiful on film as well, but her expressions are more...flat, I guess. Compare Tegan's in Call It Off to Sara's in Back In Your Head. (These two videos are another example of how Sara is necessary in a Tegan video, but Tegan kind of just chills out in the background of a Sara video.)

4) Don't shoot them separately. I mean, you can do that for part of it, but Tegan and Sara have a really obvious dynamic when you see them together. When you watch The Con, things get way more exciting visually once you get both of them in the same room. They're identical twins! They were born to look fascinating on film together.

I just realized that Speak Slow actually follows all of my Perfect Video criteria. So, uh, well done. But my point still remains, 'cause I would love to film them and give it a whirl myself.

Time to go back to sleep.

I cannot seem to find a CD and/or DVD player that will just do what I need it to do.

What do I need it to do, you ask? Why, I want it to play CDs and/or DVDs. And I want to be able to do it without a fuss. For instance, the DVD player in my bedroom must be turned on, turned off, and turned on again within about 20 seconds in order to work. And everything is in French for some reason. It wasn't when I got it, so clearly I changed something, but I can't find it for the life of me.

( But wait 'til you see the living room. )

I need money. I also happen to have some shit I don't want anymore. Therefore, I'mma have a yard sale soon. But first I figured I'd post my stuff online so that friends can get it before my neighbors do.

Here's how things are gonna go, see?
Basically, it's a yard sale. On my computer. I'll suggest a price, and if you think that's crap, you can suggest a different price. If you want something, send me an email over at my new charliespats at gmail address (don't comment here 'cause I'm gonna be posting this in a few different places, and I want to keep everything together). If no one else seems to be after it (I'll wait...three days? Is that fair?), then it's yours. If someone else wants it, then I'll email both/all people interested and give it to the highest bidder. Sound good?

Because this is a yard sale, I am not terribly keen on sending things far across the land to people. However, if you live in a faraway place and you really want something, I'm sure we can work something out. This is the Internet, after all.

Also, while my objective is to gain cash dollars from this, my fancy has been tickled by many other sorts of things in the past. If you have something other than cash dollars that I want (or if you can do/make something I'd want), I may be willing to trade.

( Well then, let's look at my useless crap already! )

Dear Firefox,

Please stop crashing unexpectedly.

No love,
Jessie


Dear Livejournal,

Thank you for saving my work!

Lots of love,
Jessie


Now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

You know that feeling you get when you have a crush on someone and they start dating someone else, and you feel all "Dammit!" even though you didn't have a chance with them or it didn't make sense for you to date them in the first place, so then you just feel silly for getting cranky about it? You with me? Yeah, well, it's even weirder when you get crushes on two totally different girls at almost the exact same time and then find out that these two girls happen to be crazy mad in love with each other. It is simultaneously the best and worst thing that could possibly happen. My current theory is that lesbians give off WAY stronger pheromones than anyone else on the planet, and that there are millions to be made in the dyke fragrance industry.

Anyway.

So, like, no big deal or anything, but I just got back from freaking NEW YORK and TORONTO the other day. Yeah. Pretty cool.

( Care for some photo/video documentation? )

I just took a look at my computer screen and realized how far we've come since those days when email was exciting and weird.

I mean, just look at that. I'm watching Twitter and a live broadcast of a Vermillion Lies show in Finland at the same time. What the hell.

And now I'm blogging about it.

Sigh.

Communication with the Outside World is good, but perhaps this is too much. I'll be sure to actually go outside at some point today.

This is kind of a cranky entry. My apologies.

So my morning started off with my alarm going off and waking me from a dream about my mom dying. This was both a very good and very bad way to wake up. On the one hand, the dream was over. On the other, I was now all sad and kind of weirded out in that half-awake kind of way.

Off to the clinic. Pulled #94. They were serving #91 when I arrived, so the wait wasn't long. Lots of very sad children getting their blood taken today. One child was confused and threw a tantrum because his brother had blood taken and he wanted to do it too. An older woman in the waiting room tried to assure him that he got the better end of the deal by far.

#92, #93, #94. The nurse took my sheet and started filling in the blanks that Dr. Lawson had skipped over. I saw her check off the M on the sheet. I smiled. A few minutes later she looked at my actual medical records, apologized, and checked off the F instead. While it was slightly disappointing, I'd rather they didn't mix up my medical records with any records of a penised Jessie Anderson.

Mom started telling me a story, but I got called up halfway through and never heard the end. A nurse with a very thick Chinese accent that I couldn't understand despite 13 years of living in Vancouver sat me down. I noticed that her name was Joy, and took that as a sign to cheer up and stop squirming. She poked around at my arms and decided on my right one. Needle went in. No sweat. I suddenly felt much better now that the worst part was over and it hadn't hurt.

Of course, my veins are all super tiny and the first poke didn't work. She pulled the needle back, pushed it back in, wiggled it around...no dice. She apologized and got another needle ready. Whatever, it didn't hurt. Mom has totally useless veins and has been getting regular blood work and chemotherapy for years, so this was no big deal. She poked me again. In, out, wiggle wiggle...nothing. Shitty. She pulled it out. I suddenly realized that I felt a little bit dizzy. I considered staying quiet about it and waiting for it to pass, but decided to mention it just in case. I'm glad I did, because as the sentence was coming out of my mouth, I suddenly got REALLY dizzy. I put my head down, but it didn't help much. The nurse said some reassuring things to me that I couldn't understand. I eventually made out "bed", "lie down" and "over there." Awesome. She led me into a small room with one of those clinic-type beds with the crinkly paper. She started moving the paper, so I stood there in case she was trying to replace it. While she was doing whatever it was she was doing, I remember thinking "My eyes are open...why can't I see anything?" It was totally like a dream. I could make out a few details, but not really enough to function. I eventually figured out that she was telling me to lie down (not being able to process information properly combined with a thick foreign accent is really difficult), and I slowly figured out how to talk my body into sitting, shifting and lying down. As soon as I lay back, I instantly felt worlds better. My optimism returned, and Joy left to find someone with mad skillz to try my left arm.

I should mention that I hadn't eaten before going to the clinic. When one is getting tested for testosterone, one must fast for 10 hours before getting their blood taken. I wasn't just pulling a stupid, I swear.

The second nurse came in, set me up, and found a vein with no trouble. While I pressed the cotton ball to my arm, she answered two phone calls that had come in for her in the 40 seconds she had been with me. The phone was broken, so we shared a chuckle over the fact that it took her about seven tries to hang up the phone. She came back over, read my tattoo, gave me my third band-aid of the day, and sent me on my way.

The blood work is supposed to happen when you have the least amount of testosterone in your body, meaning that you're supposed to get it done right before doing your next injection. Therefore, I'm supposed to do my T shot later today. I'm not excited. Before I go anywhere near another needle, I am taking one hell of a nap.

Last week, I met up with a guy named Graham at Cafe Deux Soleils. He's making a film about someone getting a sex change, and he wanted to interview someone going through the process to get more insight on what might go through the minds of My People. Maura, being the bridge between the Unschoolers/Windsor House kids and public-schooled tools like myself, pointed him in my direction. I was kind of nervous at first. Less about the interview itself, and more just the meeting-new-people factor. I've gotten rather rotten at it.

However, as luck would have it, we got along famously. It almost didn't seem unusual that we were comparing genitals within the first hour of conversation. (Simply comparing through dialogue, mind you. I don't think the other customers would've appreciated us actually whipping our junk out in the restaurant.) It got a little weird when various members of Fish & Bird kept sitting down to chat with Graham while I was halfway through a story about how gross hysterectomies are or the sensitivity of the enlarged clitoris, but even that stopped getting weird after a while. We later shifted to topics like religion (Graham is a Christian, but he's one of the Cool Christians, which is my favourite kind) and filmmaking. As I walked with him to and from the bank machine, he invited me to partake in the actual filmmaking process. This sounded absolutely fabulous to me. We're planning on meeting up again tomorrow to brainstorm. Yay! I haven't made a film in forever. I'm stoked.

Speaking of girls turning into boys, I have significantly more facial hair now than I did before.

( Lookit them sideburns. )

I couldn't resist.

( I stuck it under an LJ-cut after remembering that I keep giving my LJ link out to family members. )

Apparently LJ is ten years old today, and so the creators are sharing their nostalgia by asking people what their very first entry was about. I couldn't help myself. Here's most of my first entry (the rest of it is basically me figuring out how to use LJ):

NAME: Jessie Krista Blue Anderson
BUT YOU CAN CALL ME: Nick (Charlie Spats is the new Nick)
AGE: 14
DATE OF BIRTH: November 1, 1990
GENDER: Female (yeah ok whatever NICK)
SEXUALITY: Lesbian
SCHOOL: Vancouver Technical Secondary
GRADE: 9
YOU'D KNOW ME TO SEE ME BY: The old-fashioned suits and hats
FAVOURITE HATS TO WEAR: 1st - Fedora; 2nd - Bowler; 3rd - Top Hat
HOBBIES: Crossdressing, filming friends, turning school assignments into short films, and listening in on nearby conversations
WANTS TO: Become a film director
BEST SUBJECT IN SCHOOL: Electronics
WORST SUBJECT IN SCHOOL: Gym
BEST QUALITY: Honesty
WORST QUALITY: Procrastination
CAN'T THINK OF: Anything else to write

That was from April 19th, 2005. I got an LJ because I thought badumPSH was a really clever name for one, and I didn't want anyone else to take it.

Now I am off to go have lunch with someone I've never met in person. So far, we have almost nothing in common. Dammit. I already suck at social situations with people I DO have things in common with.

The real reason why I can't swim:


Couldn't have said it better myself.