Conversation with a Stranger

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

Scene: BART from SF 16th St to Oakland. I’m tired and a little worn out. My dinner date had said, “I just want to give you a big hug! You look like the world beat you down.” This is after I went as far as to curl my hair to appear bright and chipper.

The man sitting next to me is really, really into his iPhone. I can tell that from the first second I sit down. He asks me a question about iPhones I don’t really know the answer to but I answer anyway.

Then he shares with me this cool looking astrology app and we both marvel at photos from the Hubble telescope like this:

Source: hubblesite.org

He tells me about this Nova you can see right now…brighter than all the stars in the Universe. The light we can see left that star before our galaxy was even born.

“It makes you feel pretty insignificant,” I say.

“Yes. I think that’s right,” he replies.

I love German Typography

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

We’ve been back from our Europe 2011 adventure for a month today. I’ll save my rant about the passage of time for another day.

I loved many things about Germany, but their typography stuck out for me. Here in Oakland, CA, the best thing about our street signs is that there’s an oak tree on them. The funniest thing about that is that oak trees are actually fairly hard to find around here… but that’s neither here nor there.

The typography is nice, clean and elegant on this Oakland street sign.  I love the ‘g’ and the spacing is nice…

…but somehow this German street sign has more even more elegance and nuance.  Perhaps it’s the perfect spacing between the letters or just the addition of the ß that adds that extra oomph I like so much. Continue Reading

Silly Zoo Thoughts

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

It is a rare moment when my main man the Guster isn’t close to mind.  He was close to mind yesterday as we wandered throughout the Oakland Zoo.  I was entranced.  Apparently–and I blame my parents– I had never been to a zoo.  Perhaps my memory fails, but I embraced the zoo with a child-like glee.  Maybe it was actually taking a full day off of work.

I thought I would have been saddened to see these animals in captivity, but instead they struck me as having a pretty good life.  I understand they’re not as active as they would be in the wild, but they’re safe and many appeared to be having a really great time.  Especially those Squirrel Monkeys.  I’d really love to be a Squirrel Monkey.

I also pondered what animals my animals, the Guster and our roommate Shawn, would want to be if they were another animal.

Guster likes to lay around and wishes he could eat all day.

Continue Reading

Tina Tamale – a woman after my own heart

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

I love (loooove) parties, and once in awhile I meet a party that makes me envious. I met one last November and another one this past Saturday.

Tina Tamale throws herself a big ass birthday party every year. Now, if that wasn’t enough to make us automatically bff (Jenfest anyone?), the name Tina Tamale is actually her alter ego/brand.  I’ve always wanted an alter ego, but never had the inspiration to enact one.  (Though perhaps my nom de plume Susiejster worked for awhile…)

This year, Tina’s birthday party was held at the gorgeous Disco Volante, and–the part that makes me the most envious–the party was planned by someone who wasn’t her! She just said, I want to dress up and dance to good music. Continue Reading

Question: How you sneak booze into Oakland’s Oracle Arena?

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

Answer: In your pants!! They check your bag but they don’t pat you down.

Tip: Put the alcohol you are smuggling into Oracle Arena in a thin plastic bottle. Don’t risk losing a flask. I heard that a Korbel Brandy one works pretty well.

You won’t miss the show while waiting to refresh your beverage, and you won’t have to pay for more than one $13 Sierra Nevada. If you’re sitting in the front row, head to the Oracle Arena bathroom to refill or risk getting yourself kicked out.

One girl got some brandy in under skinny jeans. I was so jealous.

No Me Gusta McDonalds

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

I spotted this billboard for McD’s breakfast deal. Just $2.99!! But what is it?

It looks to me like it’s a big pile of mush. If I liked McDonalds food, I might have been interested in it. As it is, I can hardly tell the sausage (is that even sausage?) from the hashbrowns from the biscuits from the eggs.

I don't think it's my mediocre photo that makes this look like a heap of mush instead of an appetizing breakfast.

My great friend Molly taught me a lot about food in college. A rule of thumb, she says, is that you have a balanced meal when you have a colorful plate. Look for all the colors of the rainbow; find red in kidney beans, beets or red chard, green in, well, greens, throw in some orange carrots or squash…it makes me hungry just thinking about it! Continue Reading

ONE Festival

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

Last Monday I checked out some friends of mine who were playing at the Oakland New & Experimental Festival.

Now, I’m a big fan of the local college radio station, Kalx, which has a weekly “Noise Hour,” devoted to experimental music. When that comes on, I always change the channel.

For whatever reason I thought that the New and Experimental in the festival title referred to the fact that it was an experimental and new event for the group that was putting it on.

I found myself submerged in experimental music–a fate I would not have chosen, but one I was truly intrigued by.

The event was hosted by Studio 1510, a cool warehouse space in West Oakland; one that further incited my passion to one day have a warehouse space. This one was particularly awesome; there was a hole in a wall for selling beverages staffed by friends of the residents.  I have a hunch they were operating out of a closet.

I caught the end of a very interesting performance by Kristin Miltner and Karen Stackpole. Their music incorporated “lush, huge dynamics ranging from chiming, piercing, scraping metallic rings to the rumbling deep bass of gongs and toms.”  Though I only caught the end, I was instantly transfixed and taken away.  These strange melodies really caught you–and your emotions–and would not let you go.

I was able to make my way into the room where the performances were taking place for the next act.  One of the fellows who lived there had created these beautiful wooden sound boards to ease the neighbors’ experience; they were truly an art piece in themselves. The room sat about twenty-five comfortably, though the forty or so people crammed into the room were not complaining.

James Fei and Tim Perkis (pictured to the left) seemed an unlikely pair.  Their one song spanned around fifteen minutes, and though I cannot say it was my cup of tea, their electronic musical stylings certainly got me thinking about how our culture defines music and how it’s changing with the constant advent of new technology, and experimental artists pushing the envelope.  I smiled to think of them practicing for long hours at a time; one with a laptop and some strange looking piano-like thing, and one with a piece of equipment that resembles the once ubiquitous telephone switchboard.

The last act I saw was a group formed and directed by my friend, Elizabeth Orr, and featuring another friend, Joey Petropoulos.  They had constructed this hauntingly beautiful set, and told me that they had lugged the dozens of phone books needed to polish the effect on their bicycles.  Each singer seemed to prefer to be absolutely anonymous; this was music that revolved around the message, not the messenger. Their frank, political lyrics seamlessly delivered coupled with electronic back beats charmed the crowd and demanded audience participation.

One of the things that is so rewarding about living in Oakland is being surrounded by so many artists challenging our notions of what traditional art and music is, and collaborating with and inspiring others. I know that I won’t be so quick to change the channel next time I stumble on Kalx’s noise hour.

The Mog Car

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

I’m in the habit of noticing what’s happening at the car wash down the street.  I walk past it at least a few times each week and once in awhile a car will catch my eye.  It’s a popular self car wash; I’ve seen the local Organic Falafel Truck there (though unfortunately not open for business), taco trucks, old cars, major beaters, limos…

Today’s Mog Car really took the cake.  People were crossing the street to talk to the two car washers.  You couldn’t walk by and not talk to them.  I asked them what it was made of; I could not believe that they were washing a carpeted car at the car wash, and, indeed, it is made of a carpet-like substance.  The fellow I spoke to didn’t remember what the material was called.  He suggested that I might want to touch it, but I have spent enough time touching wet carpet as a Super Sponge Saleswoman to want to volunteer my fingers for such a task.

One thing was clear: people were noticing the mog.com vehicle. Despite the fact that the car didn’t seem to resemble any actual thing, or have a domain name that means much to the American psyche.  But we’re used to being inundated with random letters strung together to represent internet concepts, so I shouldn’t be surprised.  It turns out it’s a subscription music app.  Any fans out there leave a comment and maybe someday I’ll give it a try.  But only if they support Android phones. If nothing else, mog.com gets a gold star for a great marketing ploy.

I know I’m crazy*

Posted on by Jennifer Heller

10:00 p.m.

The Ruby Room.

Waiting for: E, 31.

In all my excitement over the BTSSB, I think I’d forgotten what dates were like; how they make you nervous and uncertain. And you wonder what it will be like and what you will talk about.

I’d also forgotten to follow my standard pre-date procedure:
1. Go to the gym. It makes you feel good.
2. Make a list of three relevant questions.
3. Make a list of top ten do-not-by-god-bring-up topics.

So there I was, unprepared, at the right side of the bar trying to down my v&t so that I might order another before he walks in–whoever he is–and right then he walks in.

I knew him immediately. He knew me too. Right off the internet, into the Ruby Room.

(For the next few weeks, I propose that we measure awkwardness by the total number of minutes that I stare into my v&t plus the seconds I distractedly chew on my straw divided by the total number of seconds the date lasts.

Tonight: I stuck it out till about 10:45….about 5 minutes were spent staring into my v&t, and about 4 were spent distractedly chewing my straw. Let’s add in the five seconds when I recovered from learning of his obvious familiarity with my Super Sponge Selling History and multiply that by 9/5 cause it was really bad and that makes the math easier, and we get:

2/5 of the date was awkward.

See? Handy system.)

After about fifteen minutes I was trying to figure out–mostly while chewing my straw–how I was going to possibly extract myself from this duo, and seat myself back at my party of ten who were merrily enjoying the second hand smoke and drinks which make the Ruby Room my favorite bar in Downtown and who were a mere three feet away. We were pretending not to know each other.

I had intended to say to him, whoever he was, “Okay, well, it’s 10:30, and I have a group of friends over there, so either let’s join them, or goodnight.”

Instead I turns out I have an eight o’clock meeting tomorrow, but then…well, it was actually going to start about 8:20… I’ll have time for my coffee…

God that silence was deafening. I’m not that good with silence, I learned tonight, once again.

I finished my vodka tonic, and it was time to go. “I’m sorry…,” I said when he asked to hang out again, but we agreed to give each other favorable reviews. I managed to leave the bar, and was standing outside talking to some dudes** when he also exited. I walked around the block… Wondered if I should walk all the way around the block, but I’d gone about seventy feet and I’d already been asked for change twice and it’s not really the best neighborhood to be walking around in in the middle of the night…

…so I was chilling. Kinda dancing around in my post-date haze where the anxiety just kinda oozes out your pores like microwaves.

And around the block he comes.

Luckily, by that time, I’d started walking back to the bar, convinced that he couldn’t have been standing out front that whole time.

Cheerily I called, “I forgot where I parked my car!”

*Julia says that that’s what makes me interesting. I’m paraphrasing.
**I’m good with strangers. But so much depends on context. Obvs.