Jeremy says that one of my most endearing qualities is that I exaggerate everything and speak only in superlatives. Things are deemend "the greatest thing ever" or "the most horrible thing on earth" willy-nilly. I was describing something to Jerm the other day and said that something was "my new favorite thing," and he said, "Jill, everything you experience becomes your new favorite thing." So I replied, "Okay, well, then this is my third favorite thing." So he said, "Well, what are numbers one and two?" and I said, "I dunno, but I'll accept the possibility that there are two other things I like more than this." Wise ass. :-)
I consider myself very lucky to be exposed to so many incredible things. Sue me for being enthusiastic. The thing is, these exaggerations aren't just a figure of speech; most of the time, they really are at that moment my favorite thing ever. Like, if I'm at a Ben Folds concert experiencing a billion metric tons of awe, then Ben Folds will be my favorite thing ever, even though I just said (and meant just as much) that Rufus Wainwright was the best thing on the whole planet just three months prior. And then David Byrne became the most amazing thing ever. And then angel food cake became the greatest thing in the whole entire universe. Ask me to put these things in some kind of order, and well, I'm afraid I can't do that, Dave... Jill goes ka-blam.
I was told by someone else very recently that my superlative-speak is kinda annoying. And my response to them is: Yeah, well, you're the most annoying person in the whole entire world ever. So pplllbbbbbt.
Speaking of my favorite things, I've been hanging out with Joe Trainor a lot lately... partially because we're so engrossed in The Wall rehearsals, partially because we're working up tunes for our joint gig this Thursday night, and partially because it's easy for me to drop by the Grand during the day now that I'm not working. Anyway, we got some lunch today and worked on some music when we just started getting silly... we were staggering out of the building, tripping over ourselves and bent over double from laughing so hard over the stupidest stuff.. at one point I thought he was gonna barf. We really get each other; I know we will be friends when we're 83, and I can imagine inviting him and Paula over to darn socks and eat turkey pot pie, all while still making our 83-year-old rock-star faces. I love seeing Joe so happy; Paula is a very lucky chick-- and we are also very lucky to have her in our screwball family here. :-)
Speaking more of my favorite things (our screwball family), Christurner noted recently how amazing it is that our gang of friends has only known each other for 18 months or so. I got to know these folks in December of 2002, but I feel like I've known them since childhood. We all get each other, quirks and all. I think it takes a slightly more advanced group of life forms to love each other like we do, especially since we're in a relatively competitive arena full of musicians, playwrights, actors, songwriters and directors. I don't feel any sense of competition with them at all though-- I feel mutual respect. Nobody thinks anyone is better than anyone else; there's no jealousy or backbiting... we are all strong at what we do, so it's just mutual admiration and support all around. I love that. No egos, just creative people doing what they do.
Speaking still about of my favorite things, here is Steve We's latest update from Iowa.
July 23rd, 2004, almost midnight
I am now here in the Twin Cities visiting my brother, sister-in-law and their above average son. Relieved I am to be visiting these dazzling urbanites after the shit-kicking adventures farther South.
This morning, after showering and doing a facial we went for Brunch. What a fine, cultured institution, Brunch. A business meeting conducted with bagels, marmalade, coffee by those with enough sense to sleep-in later than the rest of humanity. We then proceeded to the new IKEA which just opened here in Minneapolis. Now, dear reader, I ask you, "How can this capitol of all things Scandinavian NOT have had an IKEA by now?" So, I took my brother's family there to witness this multi-acre tribute to commercialism in blue and yellow. They loved it. Everything was gleaming and new...virginal. No burnt-out lights, no damaged merchandise; AS IS was still completely empty!!!! The only blights in this best-of-all-possible worlds were the people that were filling its aisles to Chinese proportions. Many of them made the trip in from the farm to see what all the fuss was about. They stared, glassy-eyed at everything, frozen in their polyester doubleknit pants suits and bibbed overalls. This was troubling, because I was behind them. I just wanted to buzz through, grab some votive candles and get my share of Swedish Meatballs with Lingonberries. These people stared at everything including the flourescent lights, as if mankind had just recently cracked the technology. "Stainless Steel-- GeeWhiz! What'll they think of next!"
One shining moment presented itself, a moment that, ironicly took place in the bathroom. I was using the lavatory, which was, at the moment at maximum capacity. A big, loud farmer came into the restroom, viewed the lines for the stalls and exclaimed for all to hear, "Well, this is the only room where a flush beats a full house!" This was truly the final and conclusive proof that you can take the boy off the farm, but you can't take the farm out of the boy.
Pray for me.
And then there was this, which I was asked to recently fill out.
|My favorite breakfast is:||shared with someone I dig. Morning Glory Diner and Sinclair's spring to mind for tasty treats.|
|The worst breakfast:||Unsweetened high-protein cereal, or a cruller/bear claw (ick)|
|My favorite packed lunch is:||brie and not-too-sweet raspberry preserves on some billion-grain bread|
|The worst packed lunch:||Oscar Meyer Lunchables (never had them, but they look vomitose)|
|My favorite dinner is:||devoid of cooked seafood and mushrooms, and also shared with someone I dig. Thai, Indian, cow. I like inventive food, but I also like KFC Crispy Strips.|
|The worst dinner:||A protein bar eaten without water between to-dos.|
|My favorite non-alcoholic beverage is:||super-strong ginger beer, water with lemon, sweet coffee|
|The worst non-alcoholic beverage:||Clamato, anything diet|
|My favorite dessert is:||chocolate mousse, creme brulee, key lime pie, apple cobbler, lavender ice cream from Gerenser's... the list is endless|
|The worst dessert:||dead squirrel, jello (and especially dead squirrel jello)|
|My favorite kind of music is:||anything well-rehearsed (power pop, 15th c. polyphony, prog rock, punk, experimental music)|
|The worst music:||Music dumbed down for children, bad karaoke|
|My favorite musical entertainer is:||Oooh, today: a toss-up between Rufus Wainwright, Ben Folds, Jason Falkner, Owsley, old non-radio-play Billy Joel, and Joe Trainor)|
|The worst musical entertainer:||Nelly Furtado|
|My favorite TV show is:||The Match Game|
|The worst TV show:||Any reality TV|
|My favorite actor is:||Tim Robbins, Steve Buscemi, Jeff Bridges, Morgan Freeman|
|The worst actor:||Quentin Tarantino (not a bad director, just a not-so-good actor)|
|My standard of female beauty is:||Jessica Lange, Drew Barrymore, Sheryl Crow, Queen Latifah, Madonna|
|She looks awful:||Joan Rivers|
|My standard of male beauty is:||Steven Page, Tim Robbins, Gary Sinise, Oliver Platt, Johnny Depp, Orson Welles (circa Citizen Kane), Mikhail Baryshnikov|
|He looks awful:||Dubya|
|My favorite scent is:||orange blossoms, coffee breath, a guy wearing Tuscany cologne, baking bread|
|This smells the worst:||ethiopian food ponk, Route 495|
|My favorite flower is:||Gerbera daisies, sunflowers, heather, wildflowers|
|The worst flower:||red anthuriums, I guess|
|Is there such a thing as The worst flower?:||dead sunflowers... creepy. And flowers bought at a grocery store (come on dude, if you're gonna do it, do it right).|
|Fortune Teller Miracle Fish today tells me that I am: Passionately In Love! This baby is curling up, then uncurling to a furiously-waving head and tail, and then uncurling again. Look out, boys. :-)|