as i re-enter society...

I’d like to take a second to sincerely thank my guest bloggers. Not only did they give me one less thing to worry about while studying, they made my day every time I received their submissions. The stories were amazing and each so different and funny and insightful. I sincerely loved every one (how could I not? They were all about me and I was damn cool in each one of them…y’all had your chance to completely tear me apart and none of you took up the opportunity…you’re way too good to me). So cadiz, omar, glo, ale, digi, hermes, andy: I bow to you and your brilliance. Thank you so much.

As I said, the bar was NO FUN. We’ve all had some fun making jokes about how it’ll be even better when we have to do it again in February.

Southampton was great. The band is headed by these two Australian brothers. They’re beautiful. The jitney they hired contained a fine mix of socialites, rockers, and groupies. Isaac brought roses to give to all the ladies on the bus. and the aussies also brought plenty of alcohol. The concert was at this groovy little place where D and I managed to get stools by the bar. The band was awesome. I check my phone around eleven to a voicemail from library adonis! I called him back and we chatted briefly but I think he was probably very drunk by that point. We discussed our totally conflicting weekend schedules and I said I’d call him later. After the concert, we were dropped off at the mansion. Actually, we were dropped of at the guest house behind the mansion where we made a complete mess of the place and then all wrapped ourselves in blankets and sat around this huge campfire telling ghost stories and smoking pot (not me). We all fell asleep outside. It was awesome. I can’t tell you the last time I saw stars. It’s something you don’t get in this city. I missed them. D and I woke up tres early (my fault, my body is still on 7am wake ups for studying) and spent the day at the beach. We left Southampton without even setting foot in the mansion. Doh!

Last night was filled with lots of alcohol, an amazing dinner at D’s dad’s restaurant, and dancing on the bar after-hours at this hidden club on the lower east side with D and our friend M. Was at club X last night and the girls convinced me it would be a good idea to text the 19 year old. I did and he called me to say he would not be coming out, that he’d gotten into a motorcycle accident. Oh man! Now 19 year old is even HOTTER. Fuck! But yay for TWO motorcycle riding guys calling me! I told him he’d better call when he was up and recovered. I think I should make out with him. I will not sleep with him though. i think I’d be the laughingstock of club X and I really like it there. the owners and bartenders are very good to me.

Tonight we are going to pub X for some more gavin degraw stalking. He’s in town this week. Yee haw!!!

And what would my return to blogging be without some celebrity sightings? on a more intellectual level, Norman Mailer sat next to me at a play on friday. i was trying to think of something really smart to say, but was stumped. my brain has been on strike since the bar. damn!

City of Love, Zombies

by Former Intern Andy

Ed. note: while jasmine is off getting drunk after TAKING THE BAR, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy! Bar is OVER! it was long. i keep thinking of issues i should have put in my essays, but there's no point in beating myself up over it now. the days were gruesome, but now, i drink. i'll be back in a couple of days! ciao!

This is a true story. It's a story about a guy named Andy, a girl named Jasmine, and how they met one spring afternoon in New York. Love was in the air, and all over the city romance was blooming. Blooming like a beautiful May flower, that's beauty pales in comparison to the illustrious Jasmine. It was an unseasonably warm spring day, the streets burning with the desires of so many lovers.

And then the zombies came.

Ugh, those zombies, let me tell you. Remember those zombies, Jasmine? We met — Jasmine and I, not the zombies — in front of the Time Warner building at Columbus Circle, a roadway named after the famous explorer. Fred Circle. Hmm? Who did you think I meant? What?

Anyway, she recognized me by the mohawk, or faux-hawk (as she didn't hesitate to point out), I told her to look for. She was short, but I could tell she was a scrapper, and if, say, the city was suddenly inundated with flesh-eating zombies, I was quite sure she'd be kicking living-dead ass right beside me. Ah, true love.

We each introduced ourselves. She shook my hand, then paused to look over her shoulder. Like something was amiss. She turned back with a breathtaking smile. "How are you?" she said enthusiastically. "I'm well," I said.

NOTE TO READER:
I may or may not have said, "I'm well." I'm always a lot smoother in the past than I am in the present. It's quite possible that I was not the suave Andy you all believe me to be. She also may have said, "You're cute; let's go make out," but I have a sneaking suspicion that she didn't. And I have a sneaking suspicion that we didn't make out. Mostly because we didn't. See, the way memories work is....


We walked into Whole Foods which was located in the lower level of the Time Warner building, or, as it would come to be called in the future, "That place where all those zombies started showing up and eating people." I had never been to Whole Foods and she gave me a hard time about it, but it in a cute, flirtatious sort of jabbing. We held hands and walked to check out line. I had General Tsao's chicken, and I believe she had the same. Everything seemed right with the world.

Clearly, there was some kind of fever in the air. We both felt it in our hearts. But I guess we were lucky. Because everyone around us clearly felt it in their disfigured faces, in their limp walks, and in their flawed vocal cords. And then moans. Moans like the ones I imagine to be present whilst making sweet love to the goddess-like Jasmine.

And then I realized. I hated General Tsao's chicken. And also, we were surrounded by zombies.

I was proven correct. She was a scrapper. We fought well side by side. Something just clicked. And clicked. And clicked. And clicked. And clicked. And then reloaded. I think it was her pump-action shotgun. You would imagine someone her size being thrown off by the kick-back, but she merely leaned in sadistically, one-handing the beast of a weapon, not even flinching when the zombie innards were splattered upon us. I won't lie to you: sex was being had with our eyes.

She was wearing a dazzling outfit — minus the zombie bits — and her body was something to behold. A work of art that would have made Michelangelo give up, saying, "Why waste time attempting to sculpt perfection when I can spend time viewing God's already perfect creation?"

Head shot. Head shot. Head shot.

We stood back to back, and I could feel her sweat mix with mine. I felt like taking her right then and there, zombies or no zombies. But since there were zombies, I figured it best to probably wait it out.

We made our way out into Fred Circle's Columbus Circle. The scope of the situation had finally hit us. We were soul mates. Surely, what we were both feeling couldn't be a simple crush. This was something more. Something bigger. We weren't "Whole Foods full of zombies" in love. We were more like "city full of zombies" in love.

So, the city was full of zombies. And we were turning left and right, unloading hot lead into the living-dead flesh. Hot like the passion that could be felt pulsating in the space around us.

We both ran toward Central Park, I with my Magnum and her with the pump-action. Like the gentleman my mother brought me up to be, I opened the closest gate into the park for her. She smiled sweetly, and then shot a zombie in the crotch, screaming profanity at it. And when it fell to its knees, she handed me her gun, and then crushed the zombies head with her bare hands, taunting it mercilessly in the process.

I used my own shirt to wipe the blood off her pump-action. I handed it to her. She didn't realize that I had wiped it off, and I overlooked the fact that she had just crushed a zombie's head with her hands. I felt like I had just sold my skateboard to buy her new law books and she sold her reading glasses to buy me a skateboard ramp. We both smiled, giggled and then embraced each other tightly. We felt a pitter-patter that vibrated in each of our chests. Our hearts were all a-flutter.

And also a helicopter, flying over head! We rushed into a large clearing in the park, waving our hands wildly, zombies close behind us. The pilot saw us and dropped a ladder down. Jasmine took a running leap and grabbed it and began to climb. The ladder swung too far for me to reach it in time, and the zombies were closing fast. With a lump in my throat, I signaled for the pilot to lift her away. Even with the chopper so near, I heard the breaking of her heart.

Though it could have been twigs. The ground was pretty littered with twigs.

I was eaten by a zombie soon after. So, given that new information, this is all written quite well, considering I'm a zombie. Right? I mean, what zombie says, "romance was blooming," "love was in the air"? How many zombies talk like that? None zombies, that's how many.

Actually, I'm just kidding. I found another clearing in Central Park and was picked up before the zombies could get me. When I climb into the compartment, Jasmine smiled her beautiful smile, gently tapped the cushion next to her, and said, "I saved you a seat."

We totally made out most of the helicopter ride.

Until we realized that the helicopter pilot was also a zombie. I mean, come on, who thinks a zombie will know how to operate a helicopter? A bus or a car, maybe. But a helicopter? We're talking X, Y, and Z axes here. Anyway, Jasmine made short work of zombie-pilot's death, and then flew the helicopter herself until we reached safety.

I love this girl. This girl named Jasmine.

Circles within circles

by Hermes

Ed. note: while jasmine is off TAKING THE BAR, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

It's a quarter past three, and I really should be inside this library snug in my seat memorizing dates, cases, names, files, faces, and places... but I'm not. Instead, I'm out here with my hair pulled back in my black Gucci glasses, matching Capri slacks, stiletto's, a teeny tiny Motley Crue tank, and... of course... a little handbag; giving myself cancer and drinking Red Bull... or possibly not. It's not an ordinary cigarette; mind you, but one of those super-stylish "Virginia Slims." I've always considered them the Maserati of tobacco products. You see, they're long, sleek, and skinny. I suppose they could also be considered aerodynamic, and they fit perfectly into that stylish metal case that was given to me by my godmother, Gina, last Christmas. Plus I'm a slave to fashion and a sucker, to say the least, I was duped... hoodwinked... bamboozled into believing a mature woman in the know smokes these disgusting things. I'm also convinced had I lived in the 1920's, I'd probably have worn long black gloves and carried one of those fancy holders; so phallic. Come to think of it. I've always set my own fashions... followed the beat of my own drummer... maybe I'll bring 'em back, who knows?

I'll consider it next time I'm chilling at the club vying for Tag's attention.

Fuck, the funniest part about this post is that I don't even smoke. It's all show, glitz, and glam. Thank you m'am, yes I suppose I'll have another. No matches, no problem, I'm covered. Here in my stylish Hermes purse (no, it's not a knockoff) I always carry this platinum lighter I found in the Hotel Lobby over at the Fitzpatrick. Sometimes when I'm bored, and my over-caffeinated, shaky hands need something to hold, I'll take it out and nervously flick it on and off... fumble it about... like Katherine Hepburn after 3 lines of Coke. Ok, that's bad... my apologies.

You know every cigarette I throw away - upon tossing it into some empty corner, some unmarked grave, to live out the remainder of it's days, silent and alone, I think how similar they are to men. Think about it... at the time, you really need one... and the longer you wait, the bitchier and more desperate you get. When you finally manage to find one, you hold it and breath it and suck it and bump it until you're completely satisfied and can't stand the sight of it so you discard it. Then, like clockwork, an hour later you need another. They're all the same: single serving, addictive, small, and disposable. Sometimes, every now and then, one will burn you... but the pain eventually passes and nary a mark or stain lasts.

That reminds me. The other day while shopping in Soho I ran into this cute guy who looked like Tad Hamilton. He claimed he knew Topher Grace's cousin's former roommate. Four degrees huh? Not too shabby. Anyhow, his name was Alex and he offered to buy me a latte. I figured sure why not, if he's buying. Anyhow, he goes on to tell me with a toothy smile that he spied me 2 blocks away and couldn't pass up the opportunity to say "hi" and that he thought I was pretty and would better like to know me. I politely told him I've been really stressed, what with preparing for this test, and worrying about the state of my blog, and eager to find out whom Bush will appoint judge. I said look, "I just don't have time." He said he'd wait until after exam day and when I get an "A" he'd buy me a steak... no, not a steak, a filet. I said; "back up, wait-a-minute... an 'A?'" He said, "yeah, an 'A.'" As in "above 97 percent?" As in, "Jazz, you're a smart, classy girl and like a doctor delivering a baby, you'll smack this exam square in its ass." I snickered and asked him where he thought I attended school. He then answered... get this... Stuyvesant High School. I laughed even harder and said "What the fuck? How old do you think I am?" He's like, "How old ARE you?" I answered, " Do you realize I just graduated law school and this exam I'm referring to is the BAR?" With a puzzled look he then replied... "Well you looked familiar, like someone I know that goes there. Plus you look young. Maybe it's your height." He followed this with, "Wow, I feel dumb. Uh... so what do you say girl, are we still on?" I'd already wasted way too much time on this chump. Five minutes in fact had forever slipped away and as we all know, as my dad always says: "Time is money, honey." I curtsied and turned away, said bon-voyage and goodbye and thanks. I told him I had to go... it was late and I had to get home and return some videotapes... oh, and feed my fish, whose name, coincidentally, is "Alex."

The moral of my little tale is this. Men, like cigarettes, are a much-needed commodity. They can provide fleeting pleasure, and a quick escape from the day-to-day grind. However if the need arises, they can be crushed underfoot, discarded, left behind and forgotten. Especially when they're foolish and make passes under false assumptions. Also, it helps when you actually KNOW said celebrities not their twice-removed hair-stylist's friends. I don't wanna hear that. Instead, I'd like to hear, "Jasmine, would you like to meet _________? He'll be sitting near us, center court, at the Garden." Oh, knowing Gavin Degraw definitely helps, it's an immediate in. And finally, no, despite what I wrote, I don't really smoke... unless I'm drinking or stressed or it's after 9 am or if the moon is full or when ......

Manhattan Jasmine and The Canyon of Heroes, part 4

by Digitalicat (The stunning conclusion! for those joining us fashionably late, go read parts one , two and three first).

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

update: there is actually the teeniest chance that library adonis knows how to find this place. he slid into the chair next to me as i was posting this and then jumped onto my computer when his froze. whether he looked at the address history...your guess is as good as mine. still no clue as to whether he's at all interested but if i had my way, we'd be spending some time together after this bar mess is over. that's a lie. if i'd really had my way, we'd have done it on one of the library tables by now. he ran out tonight but not before coming over to get my number, which seemed somehow out of place since we've been talking so much and literally spending about 15 hours a day in close proximity for over a week. for friends/sex/other, this one will definitely be good to have around. he makes me think about a lot of things i take for granted, it's enlightening. also, i will have PLENTY of that debauchery i promised on the sidebar over there. there are currently no less than 4 parties scheduled in the days immediately following the bar and one (1) trip to the hamptons to see a concert for a band and go to their afterparty at some mansion that they've rented (literally there are 30 of us going and we'll all have our own rooms, it's ridiculous). bar exam is tuesday and wednesday, will post hermes monday night and andy's wednesday, and will report to you bright and chipper (or still drunk from a 36 hour drinking binge) sometime at the end of the week. okay, go off and play kids, enjoy part 4!


Jasmine resented the implication, but she had to admit Skinny was right. She was a natural. She was riding like an old hand far quicker than she'd have ever imagined. After a few blocks, she even felt comfortable enough to take one hand off the reigns and reach for her phone.

She dialed Pretty's number from memory. He answered immediately. "Jazz? It's about time. They're on foot and they keep looking over their shoulders at me. They're gonna call the cops any minute, I know it."

"Calm down, Pretty. Where are you?"

"Bowling Green. They just turned south on to Broadway."

"That's only a few blocks away! We'll be there in a few minutes."

"Hurry, Jazz. I'm really not looking forward to a bodyguard ass-whupping."

Jasmine hung up without responding and urged her horse to move faster. Skinny was just behind her.

The Canyon of Heroes. What a fitting place for a showdown.

They passed through Bowling Green and Jasmine stopped abruptly.

"Jazz, what's wrong?"

"Look. Construction workers."

Several blocks of Broadway were lined with scaffoldings. Men with hardhats writhed back and forth between the metal tubes. Why did it have to be construction workers? Fucking urban renewal! There was nothing wrong with this neighborhood!

Skinny suddenly looked afraid. "What are we going to do?"

"I've got a plan. Take my horse and go ahead of me. You should be just fine. It's always me they're after, but maybe you'll distract them enough for me to slip through unnoticed."

"Are you sure you want me to leave you?"

"It's the only way. They'll definitely see me riding a horse."

"Ok. If you're sure. I'll try to catch up with them and slow them down."

Skinny took both horses and headed into the Canyon of Heroes. The construction workers immediately noticed her. They watched intently, but said nothing. Jasmine could swear she heard Skinny whistling, like a child trying to keep the darkness at bay.

Jasmine looked around, desperate to find an idea that would allow her to pass through this gauntlet. We have a winner, she grinned. She ran forward to a UPS truck sitting nearby. She placed her hand in her bag and wrapped her fingers around her most powerful weapon while she waited for the driver to return to the truck.

Jasmine had to muffle a laugh when she saw the signature brown uniform. The man was enormous. He was easily six foot five and 300 pounds. Well, I won't have to worry about the clothes being too small. She stepped out from behind the truck.

"Police officer! Sir, I need to commandeer your vehicle!"

"What? Bullshit. You're not a cop."

She pulled from her bag the weapon she'd been fingering and calmly leveled the creme brulee torch at the man. "You don't want to get scorched, do you? Get in the truck."

"Please, lady, take the truck! Just don't burn me!"

"I'm afraid that's not enough. I need your uniform, too. Get in the truck and get undressed, Big Boy."

Two minutes later, Jasmine was wearing the driver's hat and ridiculously large shirt over her dress. She'd taken pity on him and let him keep his pants. His shirt was almost long enough to wear as a nightgown anyway. She put the engine in gear and urged the truck south. She could not see Skinny or the horses, but she could see the faint glow of The Golden Mraz in the distance.

I hope Skinny made it through ok. I'd feel terrible if anything happened to her. She glanced out the window to find the construction workers staring at her intently. They hung from their scaffoldings at odd angles. They know something's not right, but they can't figure out what it is. She pulled the hat lower and slid down the seat. Her ruse only needed to hold for another two blocks.

Focus on the prize, Jazz. Almost there. The glow of the Mraz was getting brighter. I'm catching up. He must be stopped around the park. She was so focused on the Mraz that she wasn't paying attention to the traffic. She slammed her stolen UPS truck right into the back of the car in front of her. Suddenly grounded again, she saw the traffic was at a complete standstill.

Shit. I can't afford another delay. She grabbed her bag and clambered out of the truck. Immediately she regretted that decision. The construction workers were suspicious before the accident. Now they knew something wasn't right. One of them started making kissing noises at her. Then she realized her mistake. Her legs! She looked down at her exposed calves. Her cover was completely blown.

She tore off the shirt and hat. The disguise was useless now. Several of the workmen made appreciative noises. Jasmine shouldered her bag again. She thought back to the anti-harassment advice she'd been given. Unfortunately, she could only think of one tip. Not having a better idea, she jammed her index fingers into her nostrils. The catcalls quieted considerably. She could hear one of the men say "Eew!"

Jasmine began to jog toward the park. For good measure, she began to shout. "Don't look at me! I'm not sexy, I'm picking my nose! Nothing to see here people! Back to work! Just a nose picker here!"

In no time at all, she had passed through the Canyon and emerged at City Hall Park. Jasmine followed the glow and found Pretty, Skinny, two horses, the man in the rumpled suit, and The Golden Mraz all standing around waiting for her.

"Pretty, what's happening? Why is everyone just waiting?"

"They're waiting because I asked them to wait. They kept looking at me and I figured I had to say something if I didn't want to get beat or arrested."

"You mean that worked?"

"Yeah, sure. Mraz was quite anxious to see you again."

Jasmine turned to The Golden Mraz. He looked starstruck.

"Is this the girl then, mate? Jason? Hello?" The man in the suit tried unsuccessfully to get his attention. "Whatever. Young lady, when you're finished with him, do see he makes it back to the Four Seasons, won't you?"

"Oh, I think I can guarantee we'll be in his hotel room soon."

Pretty leaned over to whisper to Skinny. "What's in the bag? What's so important that she had to rush home?"

"The usual stuff, I imagine. Brulee torch, vole snacks, a MacGuffin or two."

"Mmm. Are you hungry? Egg MacGuffin sounds good."

"That's something else, stupid. Now shut up, I don't want to miss anything."

Mraz reached out to take Jasmine's hand. "Please tell me, what is your name?"

"I'm Jasmine, Jasmine Mraz."

He gave her a quizzical look.

She smiled. "Well, maybe not yet. But give me time."

Manhattan Jasmine and The Canyon of Heroes, part 3

by Digitalicat (for those joining us fashionably late, go read parts one and two. part four is tomorrow!)

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

Also: have been spending oodles of time with library adonis. for all practical purposes he's been my library boyfriend. we leave together and he walks me to my corner (it's on his way), we have lunch together. the thing is...i have no idea if he's attracted to me AT ALL. it's all been relatively platonic. we haven't exchanged numbers. we don't even flirt that much (at least it doesn't feel like it), besides the occasional 4th grade tactics of kicking my chair or drawing on me with a highlighter. his personality is kind of quirky. he's not like anyone i've ever met and i think i like it, but it's taking some adjusting to. tomorrow is his last day here so i have to get his number by then. hopefully we'll soon see whether i'm his library girlfriend or library buddy. i hope it's the former because i kind of want to jump this guy every time i look at him. now on to the story (i'm getting so excited to post the next part because i'm not reading them until right before i post them)....


"You've both got your cellphones, right?" They nodded eagerly. "Good. I have to get back to my apartment to get my gear. Skinny, get us some transportation and meet me at my apartment."

Skinny nodded and turned into the crowd.

"Pretty, I need you to follow him. Keep your phone on. Do not lose him! We'll catch up to you as soon as we can."

Pretty lifted his right leg to step over the metal fence.

"Wait! First lift me up."

Pretty looked puzzled.

"Now, man, now!"

He grabbed her at the waist and lifted her as high as she could. Thanking providence yet again for her tiny frame, Jasmine crawled onto a stranger and began to run toward the end of the plaza. It's was difficult half running on people's shoulders and she took a great deal of care to keep her weight balanced on her toes, lest she hurt someone with her heels.

Soon she was on the ground again and running full speed toward her apartment. She kept her eyes open for taxis, but saw none that were not already full. Her frustration grew with every step. With every second, he's father away. Maybe it's not meant to be? A little too lost in thought for running in heels, she misstepped and broke a heel. With a tinge of regret she examined her broken shoe and her skinned knee.

For a moment, she despaired. Then she broke the other shoe and resolved to keep moving. A few minutes later, she was at her apartment. After her brisk fourteen block run, she no longer looked like the delicate flower of womanhood she did a few hours earlier. You can do this, Jazz. World speed record. Faster. Faster!

Too impatient for the elevator, she bounded up the stairs to her fifth floor apartment. After spending far more time that she'd have liked fumbling for her key, she was inside and shimmying out of her dress on the way to the bedroom closet. She grabbed the dress that looked most like the one she'd just removed and dashed to the bathroom. A washcloth, a towel, two hairbrushes, a lipstick, and a few other sundries began to fly about her head. She was moving so fast that an observer might have incorrectly assumed that all these items were moving on their own, when in fact it was just Jasmine doing her impression of a one-woman makeover pit crew.

Satisfied that she'd done all she could with the time she had, she slid into her dress and ran to the shoe room. She darted in, this time not even bothering to close the door. The remote was in her hand in a flash and again the mechanical racks resumed their frenzied dance. She chose the first pair of shoes she could live with and was on her way back to the bedroom. This time she grabbed a much larger bag. She tossed her tiny bag inside and then added her favorite tools. Her phone rang and she cursed her foolishness. She dug to the bottom of the bag to retrieve the chirping sliver of electronics.

Caller ID showed Skinny's number. "Skinny?"

"I'm outside. I've got a ride."

"Good girl. I'll be down in a minute."

Jasmine snapped the phone shut and headed for the door. Her bag over her shoulder and her shoes in her hand, she slammed the door and ran to the stairway. I hope there's nothing sharp on the stairs. I piece of glass will end all of this.

She made it to the bottom of the stairs with feet intact and sprinted for the front door. Skinny was directly in front of her building. To Jasmine's great consternation, she was seated atop a horse, with another horse next to it.

"Skinny?"

"I don't know what the hell is going on in this city, but there're no taxis anywhere in this damn borough!"

"Horses? This is the best you could come up with?"

"Mounted policemen. You have no idea what I had to promise them. You owe me BIG."

"But Skinny... I don't know how to ride a horse!"

"It's easy. You just work your thighs. You'll be a natural."

"Hey!"

"Close your mouth and get on. If I got these horses for nothing, you just might have to die."

Jasmine gulped noticeably and climbed on to the second horse. She fearfully dug her heels into the animal's sides. I'm going to kill myself.

Manhattan Jasmine and The Canyon of Heroes, part 2

by Digitalicat (for those joining us fashionably late, part one immediately precedes this. parts thee and four come over the weekend)

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!


Today
Jasmine rose before the sun. She was so excited she'd hardly slept at all. She stood in front of her closet and considered what to wear. Her fingers walked from one hanger to the next as judged, and found wanting, each outfit. Finally she settled on a slinky black dress. It wasn't as "wow" as she would have liked, but she thought that an understatement of class and elegance would have a better effect than some of her more revealing "fuck me" outfits.

Her dress selected, she then turned her attention to shoes. She walked down the hallway with a noticeable bounce in her step. Today will be the day. The Golden Mraz will be mine! She entered the shoe room and flipped a switch. Tastefully recessed lights illuminated several motorized racks, each holding several thousand pairs of shoes. Imelda Marcos was an amateur, she snickered. Every time she entered the shoe room, Jasmine thought the same thing. The simple joke still made her smile.

Jasmine closed the door, threw the deadbolt, and switched on the hallway warning light. There was no one else in the apartment, but Jasmine was always a big believer in her safety procedures. She sat on a delicate looking stool and reached for a remote control. She pressed a large red button and the racks all moved in unison, like soldiers snapping to attention. Jasmine began pressing buttons and the racks began to move, serving up shoe after shoe for her selection. She said nothing and did not change her expression, but continued to work the remote control. The racks accelerated until they were nearly a blur. An ordinary human could not possibly have seen every pair of shoe that whizzed past, but Jasmine was no ordinary human, at least not when it came to shoes.

Jasmine stopped pressing buttons and the machines froze in place. A pair of simple black pumps was raised on a small platform before her. Yes, these I think. She took the shoes with her left hand and pressed one last button with her right. The racks returned to their starting positions and were still. She closed down the shoe room and returned to the bedroom. She posed in front of a mirror and wondered if the Golden Mraz would appreciate how well the shoes complimented the dress. Probably not. Straight men never seem to understand that.

She then returned to the closet to select a purse. A stark contrast to her shoe room, her selection of hand bags was surprisingly small. She ran her hands over a few before choosing a silk bag, the size of which could only be described as "what the hell are you going to carry in that tiny thing?" Into this thimble-sized bag, Jasmine managed to fit her cell phone, a credit card, her ID, four twenty dollar bills, her apartment key, and a small mirror.

A quick glance at the clock confirmed that she was ready a few minutes earlier than expected. I'm ahead of schedule. That's a good sign. Once on the street, she hailed taxi for the trip to Rockefeller Center.


The cab ride was quicker than she expected. Jasmine was very hopeful until she saw the size of the crowd. Damn. I wasn't expecting this many people. This is going to make it a lot tougher to get close. She paid the cabbie and went to wait under the lamp post that the three of them had chosen the night before. Pretty and Skinny were both already waiting.

"Can you believe this crowd? I can't believe this many people showed up this early," Skinny grumbled.

"And did you notice that it's almost all women?" Pretty actually looked a bit nervous. "There's so much estrogen here I can actually feel my manhood slipping away."

Jasmine laughed. "Maybe you should hang on to your manhood while you still can."

"Wanna do it for me?" Pretty said with a grin.

"Umm... no. Come on. We'd better get started if we're going to make it to the front without hurting people." Jasmine frowned, preparing herself for what promised to be at least 40 minutes of elbowing.

"Maybe you should just show your boobs? People seem to lose the ability to think when you do that." Pretty was still grinning.

"No way. Have you been keeping track of how many times I've flashed my boobs this week? I seriously need to cut back."

Pretty failed to stifle his disappointment. "It was just a thought," he muttered. "We'd better get started then."

Skinny pushed up her sleeves. "Remember, it's all in how you use your elbows."


After nearly an hour of squeezing, pushing, and pleading, Jasmine and her companions were finally to the front of the crowd. They stood shoulder to shoulder against the metal fence that separated the crowd from the stage. They could just make out the top of Al Rokker's head as he gave the weather report from the other side of the stage. Almost time! Jasmine could barely contain herself. Sound technicians were making last minute adjustments to nearly everything. Soon, very soon.

The technicians quickened their pace as they rushed to clear the stage of anything extraneous. Finally they scurried away and the crowd began to cheer. Jasmine looked everywhere, but couldn't yet see anything worth cheering.

Suddenly the square was bathed in amber light. As bright as the sun, the source of the light was moving toward the stage. There he is! The Golden Mraz! I must have him! Mraz took the stage to the roaring approval of the crowd. Matt Lauer was at the edge of her vision. He was holding a microphone and his lips were moving, but Jasmine heard nothing.

Lauer spoke for only a few seconds, but to Jasmine it felt like hours. Shut your cake hole, Buzz Cut! Let The Mraz do his thing! As if on command, Lauer lowered his microphone and moved to the edge of the square. Mraz stepped up to the microphone and the band began to play a new song, one Jasmine didn't know.

Curses! A new song. This is messing with my mojo! I can't put out my vibes right if I don't know the music. The song was pleasant enough. It might even end up a radio hit. But as she listened, Jasmine felt like she was dying inside. She was losing valuable time, and Mraz hadn't even noticed her yet.

Chin up, Jazz. The second song has to be "Remedy." It has to be. That's his most popular song. That's the reason everyone's here. Of course he'll play it. Jasmine closed her eyes and tried to refocus, trusting in fate that the second song would be one she knew. She was nearly meditating by the end of the first song. The music stopped and the crowd cheered. Eyes still closed tight, Jasmine could almost feel Matt Lauer moving back to the stage to make small talk with her Golden Mraz. She didn't even have him yet, and already she'd begun to think possessively. This almost brought a smile to her face and she had to struggle to maintain her serenity.

Completely unbidden, her subconscious dredged up Seinfeld. "Serenity now!" Jason Alexander yelled in her mind. She lost it then and began giggling. To hell with it. This will have to do, she thought. She opened her eyes to find Lauer again leaving the stage. She'd relaxed more than she'd thought. She thought only a few seconds had passed, but she'd actually spent the entire commercial break with her eyes closed. Mraz was lining up behind the microphone again. The crowd thundered as the band played the first few notes of Remedy.

Yes! This is all going to work out just fine. Jasmine heaved an impossibly large sigh of relief. And then she began to dance. At first she was considerably hampered by the crowd pressing her against the metal fence. But once she began to move, the crush seemed to ease as if by magic. Jasmine focused on the music and gently moved her hips in perfect time with the beat. Her eyes never left Mraz. As soon as he sees me, I'll have him.

A moment later it happened. Just as he was beginning the second chorus, Mraz saw her. He never looked away. He remained remarkably composed when faced with such an onslaught of feminine wiles, but Jasmine still heard a few notes out place. She continued to sway with the music, and her eyes remained locked on his. He's mine, I know it! It's working!

The song ended far too soon, but Jasmine was sure she'd had time enough to work the right amount of voodoo. Lauer again swooped on to the stage and stood right in Jasmine's line of sight. She lost eye contact with Mraz. No! I'm so close! Get out of the way, Lauer! No matter how much she willed him to move, he remained standing in the least convenient spot. After what seemed like a small eternity, the Today Show went to commercial and Lauer again scurried away. The musicians began to leave the stage, but Mraz stayed planted right where he was, again looking at Jasmine.

It worked! He digs me! Lauer didn't screw it up after all. Mraz walked to the front of the stage and gracefully climbed down. He was walking toward her. She shoots, she scores!! Jasmine thought triumphally.

Out of nowhere came a man in an expensive but rumpled suit. He grabbed Mraz by the arm and began to drag him sideways. Jasmine could hear this suited man mumbling something about getting away from the crowd. Mraz feebly protested, never taking his eyes from Jasmine. Caught in her spell a little too much, he was unable to explain to the manager/agent type that he did not want to leave.

Immediately Jasmine shifted into crisis mode.

Pretty was giggling. "Did you see that? He was totally into you!"

"Shut up, Pretty. Pay attention," Jasmine barked. "I'm not letting that bastard steal him away from me."

Manhattan Jasmine and The Canyon of Heroes, part 1

by Digitalicat

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

and another: digi's post in four parts folks, which means four days of digi-happiness. also, library adonis doesn't have a girlfriend. he made a point of telling me that and then asked me if the sterling silver band i wear on my right hand is a wedding ring. how come guys NEVER know the wedding ring goes on the left hand? i also told him that if i owned a diamond, you better believe i'd be wearing that thing. i think a date is in the bag (though me saying that will probably jinx it all). i won't let him leave tonight before i find out when he heads to jersey (i.e. when i have to get his number by). i can't tell if he's a player or not. he's an enigma, this one. you know i'll keep ya'll posted.

Today
"Ouch! Dammit!" Jasmine curled her left leg to examine her skinned knee. Why did I have to wear heels today? she thought. If only I'd known how I'd be spending my day... She wiped away the grit and the droplets of blood. The troublesome shoe sat a few feet away, mocking her with its broken heel. With more than a little regret, she tore off the broken heel of the left shoe and then the unbroken heel of the right. Aww... these were Jimmy Choo! He better appreciate what I'm going through. She slid her feet into the worthless, but now semi-functional, shoes. Focus, Jazz. Forget about the shoes. Keep your mind on the prize. You've gone through too much to walk away empty handed.

Last night
This is hopeless. I'm burying myself. Jasmine brushed a stray hair out of her eyes and looked around her table. She was surrounded by books, some of them almost too heavy to lift. She'd rapidly grown to hate those books. She'd been in this library nearly every waking moment for the past week. Her eyes glazed over just a bit and she wondered what she was really doing here. Her heart was heavy with the weight of a question she should have answered three years ago. Is this what I really want? Passing the bar won't make these books go away. She sighed. Maybe I just need a break.

Just then her reverie was interrupted by the clicking of approaching heels. She turned in the direction of the sound and brightened immediately. Skinny was exactly the person she needed to lift her spirits.

"Jazz, I've been looking all over for you. How long have you been here?"

Jasmine merely mumbled an answer. She felt that speaking it out loud would only make it more depressing.

"Are you ready to pack it in for the night? I want to go out."

"Skinny, I really need to study. I'm not even close to being ready."

"Come on. It's so boring without you! You've still got plenty of time to study. One night off isn't going to hurt you."

Five minutes ago, Jasmine was desperate for someone to rescue her from this sea of books. Now that Skinny was trying to do that very thing, she was suddenly wondering if more studying might not be the best choice after all.

Jasmine thought for a moment and decided that a little Thursday night screensaver was exactly what she needed. She could cut loose a little and come back tomorrow completely refocused.

"Sure, what the hell?" she said. "What did you have in mind?"

"What else? Drinking, dancing, flirting. Pretty's going with us, too."

Jasmine smiled. "Sounds perfect. Let's go back to my apartment so I can change into something a little more fun."


An hour later Jasmine, Skinny, and Pretty were seated around a small table covered with half-full bottles and glasses. The music was pounding, a driving house beat that shook the air around them. Jasmine was staring at nothing while Pretty talked yet again about the crazy guy who lived outside his building. Skinny was listening only slightly more than Jasmine. Her attention was instead focused on a trio standing near the end of the bar.

"Pretty, do you see those people at the end of the bar?" she finally asked.

"I was trying to say something!" he muttered disappointedly.

"Don't be a prick. Do you see them?"

"I see lots of people. Which are you talking about?"

"Keep looking."

"Oh, my God! Is that Leo? Who's that with him? Is that Giselle?"

"Which one?"

"Giselle Bundchen, what do you mean 'which one?' "

"No, not 'which Giselle,' which person are you looking at?

"Well, I'm certainly not talking about the dork in the Pope hat."

"Pretty, I don't think that's a guy in a Pope hat. I think that's actually the Pope."

"The Pope parties with Leo? Who knew?"

"Should we go say hello?"

"Ugh, Skinny, are you kidding? I wouldn't be caught dead with those B-listers."

No one spoke for a moment. Finally Pretty said, "So, Jazz, are you going to Rockefeller tomorrow morning?"

Jasmine hadn't been paying attention, but perked up when she heard her name. "Huh? What? Sorry, I was in my own little world there."

"Rockefeller. Tomorrow. Are you going?"

"Umm, no? What's in Rockefeller tomorrow?"

"Where have you been, girl? Summer Concert Series. Jason Mraz is playing the Today Show tomorrow."

Pretty kept talking, but Jasmine could no longer hear him. Her mind was filled with the sound of a choir of angels singing Hosannas. After all this time the Golden Mraz would finally be within her grasp. The implications sent her reeling. The angelic voices sang ever louder, drowning out even her thoughts.

She called over her shoulder, "Hey! Do you mind? I'm trying to think over here."

The angels abruptly stopped singing. A few of them stared at Jasmine. "Well, if that's how you want it!" one of them said crossly. "C'mon guys, let's go get some drinks and tease the Pope." The angels shuffled away toward the end of the bar.

Skinny looked puzzled. "Jazz, what's the deal with those guys anyway?"

"They're always following me around. I swear they're just waiting for the wind to blow my skirt up. Perverts."

"So, Jasmine, the question stands. Are. you. go-ing. to. Rock-e-fell-er. to-mor-row?" Pretty asked impatiently.

"Are you kidding? Of course I'll be there. The Golden Mraz will be mine. Oh, yes! He will be mine."

briefly...

so i didn't mention him before, but i'd noticed (and by noticed, i mean i'd been staring at constantly) this guy who sits near me at the library. he's tall, short dark hair, broad shoulders, perfect arms (muscular but not on steroids)...kind of basketball playerish. he's tanned, has a nice smile and these blue eyes that KILL me. basically, he's an adonis. his walk is great. y'all may think i'm crazy, but i mean it. he doesn't have the "i'm full of myself becase i think i'm God's gift" walk. if you don't know what i'm talking about, tune into a yankees game and watch derek jeter do it. he's the king of "i think i'm hot" walking. this guy's walk: kind of dopey. he has these glasses that make him look kind of dorky which i LOVE. he rides a motorcycle (HOT!). we've made occasional eye contact (and by eye contact, i mean he's caught me staring a few times, but i usually manage a smile instead of a freaked-out look that i've been busted). well, today we talked. his name is jared. he's actually been a practicing lawyer for a couple years but moved firms and now has to take the new jersey bar. he doesn't actually want to be a lawyer at all. he wants to teach self defense. he has a weird sense of humor that i don't always get right away, but he makes me laugh so much (either because i'm getting the joke, or i'm laughing at myself for NOT getting that he's joking). who knows if anything will come out of it. the only bad thing: he has a cat. i hate cats.

he was giving me a lot of shit, which i like. i like that he wasn't afraid to make fun of me or give me a hard time. and did i mention his eyes? so anyways, for all who wondered whether i'm mourning tech boy...i'm not. i'll keep you updated. i sense that he's interested. rather, i sense that i wouldn't be getting as much attention if he had a girlfriend. also, EVERY SINGLE girl in the library has been checking him out all week and I was the first one to get to talk to him. i could see all their beady eyes searing through me. heck yeah!

also, let me tell you about love. i called my mother to say i was craving pizzelles (italian cookies, google it, you've seen them before), so she called my grandmother who made them and sent them to me three hours later (overnight mail, no less). i was instructed to not call the house to thank her because my grandfather would fly off the handle if he found out she'd spent $25 overnighting me cookies. i love my grandma!

if you haven't done so yet, please continue reading Ale's story: how jasmine got her boobs. it's like "it's a wonderful life"...every time a bell rings, an angel gets her wings. but it's different.

How Goddess Jasmine Lost Her Immortality

by Ale

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

Once upon a time, in a land closer than you think, there lived a beautiful goddess named Jasmine. She lived in her goddess tower and rarely came down to mingle with the mortals in the land that was called Manhattan. This land was known among the gods and mortals alike to be an EVIL EVIL place! It was a place where people spent at least an hour each morning in the underground dungeon just to get to work, where they slaved for another 14 hours... (but that's a whole different tale...)

Well one day, Jasmine, being a curious goddess, decided to descend and grace the mortals with her presence. She was especially curious about the guy mortals.

On the day of her planned descend she was awoken as usual with the distant songs from below passing garbage trucks, taxis and emergency vehicles. "Ah, these mortals... soon enough I will know why sounds appeal to you so much" thought Jasmine. She put on her best golden robes and sole-less sandals. (Since of course she did not need to wear real shoes because she glided on air.)

The very first thing Jasmine did was go to a "happy hour" in midtown. She figured it would be the very best place to sample some of the boy mortals. Jasmine illuminated the entire bar as she glided inside...but not a single head turned!!!! The boy mortals were too busy talking loudly and drinking golden colored liquid from large glasses. "Hmm... I didn't know they had nectar down here too..." Jasmine thought. She squeezed in by the bar and ordered a glass. Near her was a cute dark haired boy that was especially happy. He immediately involved Jasmine into a conversation about his job at some fancy-shmancy law firm. Jasmine was intrigued. But what intrigued her even more is that he didn't even once look at her!!! Hmmm... Jasmine thought...

Next she decided to make her way to a Jazz club downtown. "Maybe here I can meet some people that do not have problems focusing on their conversation partners" Jasmine thought. Unfortunately the story repeated itself when she met a cute messy haired trumpet player. All he did was talk about his trumpet.

Jasmine was confused! I'm a beautiful goddess that glides on air wearing a blinding gold robe! How can I not catch the attention of these boy mortals!?!? At that very moment, as if reading her mind, there appeared a dark shadow next to her.

"So little goddess, you search to know the secrets of the mortals...?" said the shadow.

"Yes! I especially seek to be able to get the attention of the boy mortals!"

The shadow thought for a moment... "I may be able to give you something that would surely get you the attention of EVERY boy mortal..." said the shadow slowly.

"OK! As long as you guarantee it!!"

"Well... you know the drill, it will cost you your immortality..."

"Sure, sure whatever, I must succeed at what I came down here to do at all costs!!!" cried Jasmine.

"All right, all right..." the shadow produced a little purple flask and handed it to Jasmine. "Drink this tonight before going to sleep and when you wake up tomorrow morning, you will have the thing that I promised which will get you every boys attention. Heck, you've been such a good sport, I'll double it for you. But remember you will also wake up a mare mortal..." The last part trailed off as Jasmine was already on her way back to the tower.

The next morning, Jasmine woke up as usual with the sounds of garbage trucks, taxi honking and emergency vehicles... except this morning the sounds were unusually loud... Jasmine even felt a strange sensation in her head. (It felt as if some one was hitting her with a bat.) "Oh, its probably me getting adjusted to being a mortal, I'm sure its nothing." She made her way to the closet and picked out a nice outfit to wear "But no more golden robes" Jasmine thought. But once she picked out a pretty pair of Manolos, since she could not glide on air anymore, she looked down to check out her shoes and...

...SHE REALIZED THAT SHE COULD NOT SEE HER FEET!!!!!

There was something completely obstructing her view!!! TWO OF THEM!!

"Oh gosh, what is THIS!?!?"

And than she remembered the conversation with the dark shadow... "Don't tell me... these are THEM- the two somethings that the shadow promised???"

But, she didn't have time to think for too long since she was impatient to get down to Manhattan and be successful this time!

Back at the midtown bar she caused a commotion and practically a stampede. Mortal boys just surrounded her and... WAIT! STOP! Not really HER, but HER TWO THINGS!!! But not only did they flock right to them... they talked to them... and wanted to be... with them... "What the heck!!? Did the shadow dupe me!???" thought Jasmine.

She went on to the jazz club downtown. The messy haired boy was still there blowing his horn. But the moment Jasmine walked in he immediately ran over... to THEM.... "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!!!!!!!" screamed Jasmine. "THIS IS NOT WHAT I BARGAINED FOR!!!! I wanted the mortal boys to see me- ME, and pay attention to ME!!! Not... THEM!!!!"

So Jasmine decided to give up on boys and just do something that will take up her time so she won't have to deal with these situations.

So, she enrolled into law school.

3 years later...

We find Jasmine in the computer lab at school studying for her bar exam. Just as she was taking a minute brake peaking at Ale's blog, the computer froze.

"Uffff" thought Jasmine, "This being mortal thing just keeps getting better and better!" She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. The BRAND NEW nerdy and absentminded looking lab attendant guy was completely oblivious of her. "Figures, nothing a girl can do will ever get their attention... except of course flashing her boobs!"

(By the way, it wasn’t chris the tech boy, he was DISCHARGED from his job when they found out he was only 16 and didn’t have his working papers (for under aged workers). So this nerdy guy is the NEW guy they hired to replace him.

Anyway, back to the story…

So Jasmine marched over to his desk and said: "Excuse me! Did you not see me calling you over!! My computer froze."

"Oh I'm so sorry, I've misplaced my glasses and without them, I'm afraid, I'm totally blind!" Said the new nerdy guy, smiling and wrinkling his freckled nose.

He does have very nice green eyes, Jasmine thought, even if he can’t focus them on anything...

"Oh, can you show me where your computer is? I can't see where I'm walking..." Said the new cute nerd.

So Jasmine held his hand as they walked across the computer lab. "Ah, how nice and warm it feels" thought Jasmine. After fixing her computer they both realized that they had a love for jazz in common. They spent the entire night talking, laughing and exchanging mp3 files from his iPod to hers. It was the greatest evening!

Later that night...or shall we say early in the morning, when Jasmine and the cute nerd laid in her bed embraced, she asked him: "When you find your glasses and see me... will you change your opinion of me??"

"How could I!? Plus, I HAVE seen you, nothing can alter the vision I already have of you."

"Ahhh" thought Jasmine... "Who knew that it would take a blind man to really see a woman."

And with these happy and satisfied thoughts Jasmine fell asleep...

The END

mayday! mayday!

okay, a brief interruption of g.lo's spotlight to bring you this announcement:

tech boy has a girlfriend! i repeat, tech boy has a girlfriend!

he was in the booth watching a movie with one other guy and i peeked my head in and said, "boy, do i want your job right about now. you guys get paid to sit around and watch movies and play video games!" other guy said, "well, we're on call! we might have to do work!" i called them out by saying that almost nobody has any problems and they get to do a decent amount of hanging around. the three of us made about 10 minutes of light conversation. tech boy mentioned his SAT's which makes me think that he is, indeed, too young for me. i mean, he'd taken the SAT's (he was speaking in past tense) but, i mean, he's probably definitely still in college or something (seriously, when was the last time you felt comfortable bringing the SAT's into a conversation as if they were important w/o feeling like you were totally living in the past). then i tell them that i tried to call my best friend kate but she was a wreck and sobbing b/c she was watching The Notebook. that's when tech boy dropped the big one:

"yeah, my girlfriend made me watch that. i had all these other movies. i could have been watching star wars."

two things about that: the fact he has a girlfriend is disturbing, yes. the fact the i've only been talking to him for 10 minutes and he's already managed a way to bring star wars into the conversation...that was the breaking point. he might as well have told me he was a republican. that's how you hang yourself with jasmine. i know i'm being a bit harsh re: the star wars. it is NOT as bad as being a republican. BUT i'm just not a fan of the movies and i think that there really are two types of people: those for it and those that aren't so much. so, folks, i'm probably better off (and for the record: i'm also in denial and thinking that if i give him my number/flash him, i can get him to ditch the girl. don't worry, i won't do it. its just my "thinking i can have anything i want attitude" talking).

i tried not to look shocked/disappointed/etc. and made a joke about having to watch girly movies as being the tradeoff for having a warm body in the bed. we all laugh, nod, i pretend my best friend is calling me back and make a graceful exit. damnit! now i really hope it doesn't get back to him that mike told his co-worker that i have a crush on him. v. embarrassing indeed. kate says it wasn't meant to be. she's always generically sage like that but i love her more than anything, and you know what? she's right. there will be other dorks for me to fall for and sooner or later i'll find a single one.

i return you now to your scheduled g.lo reading.

How goddess Jasmine lost her immortality

by Ale

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

Once upon a time, in a land closer than you think, there lived a beautiful goddess named Jasmine. She lived in her goddess tower and rarely came down to mingle with the mortals in the land that was called Manhattan. This land was known among the gods and mortals alike to be an EVIL EVIL place! It was a place where people spent at least an hour each morning in the underground dungeon just to get to work, where they slaved for another 14 hours... (but that's a whole different tale...)

Well one day, Jasmine, being a curious goddess, decided to descend and grace the mortals with her presence. She was especially curious about the guy mortals.

On the day of her planned descend she was awoken as usual with the distant songs from below passing garbage trucks, taxis and emergency vehicles. "Ah, these mortals... soon enough I will know why sounds appeal to you so much" thought Jasmine. She put on her best golden robes and sole-less sandals. (Since of course she did not need to wear real shoes because she glided on air.)

The very first thing Jasmine did was go to a "happy hour" in midtown. She figured it would be the very best place to sample some of the boy mortals. Jasmine illuminated the entire bar as she glided inside...but not a single head turned!!!! The boy mortals were too busy talking loudly and drinking golden colored liquid from large glasses. "Hmm... I didn't know they had nectar down here too..." Jasmine thought. She squeezed in by the bar and ordered a glass. Near her was a cute dark haired boy that was especially happy. He immediately involved Jasmine into a conversation about his job at some fancy-shmancy law firm. Jasmine was intrigued. But what intrigued her even more is that he didn't even once look at her!!! Hmmm... Jasmine thought...

Next she decided to make her way to a Jazz club downtown. "Maybe here I can meet some people that do not have problems focusing on their conversation partners" Jasmine thought. Unfortunately the story repeated itself when she met a cute messy haired trumpet player. All he did was talk about his trumpet.

Jasmine was confused! I'm a beautiful goddess that glides on air wearing a blinding gold robe! How can I not catch the attention of these boy mortals!?!? At that very moment, as if reading her mind, there appeared a dark shadow next to her.

"So little goddess, you search to know the secrets of the mortals...?" said the shadow.

"Yes! I especially seek to be able to get the attention of the boy mortals!"

The shadow thought for a moment... "I may be able to give you something that would surely get you the attention of EVERY boy mortal..." said the shadow slowly.

"OK! As long as you guarantee it!!"

"Well... you know the drill, it will cost you your immortality..."

"Sure, sure whatever, I must succeed at what I came down here to do at all costs!!!" cried Jasmine.

"All right, all right..." the shadow produced a little purple flask and handed it to Jasmine. "Drink this tonight before going to sleep and when you wake up tomorrow morning, you will have the thing that I promised which will get you every boys attention. Heck, you've been such a good sport, I'll double it for you. But remember you will also wake up a mere mortal..." The last part trailed off as Jasmine was already on her way back to the tower.

The next morning, Jasmine woke up as usual with the sounds of garbage trucks, taxi honking and emergency vehicles... except this morning the sounds were unusually loud... Jasmine even felt a strange sensation in her head. (It felt as if some one was hitting her with a bat.) "Oh, its probably me getting adjusted to being a mortal, I'm sure its nothing." She made her way to the closet and picked out a nice outfit to wear "But no more golden robes" Jasmine thought. But once she picked out a pretty pair of Manolos, since she could not glide on air anymore, she looked down to check out her shoes and...

...SHE REALIZED THAT SHE COULD NOT SEE HER FEET!!!!!

There was something completely obstructing her view!!! TWO OF THEM!!

"Oh gosh, what is THIS!?!?"

And than she remembered the conversation with the dark shadow... "Don't tell me... these are THEM- the two somethings that the shadow promised???"

But, she didn't have time to think for too long since she was impatient to get down to Manhattan and be successful this time!

Back at the midtown bar she caused a commotion and practically a stampede. Mortal boys just surrounded her and... WAIT! STOP! Not really HER, but HER TWO THINGS!!! But not only did they flock right to them... they talked to them... and wanted to be... with them... "What the heck!!? Did the shadow dupe me!???" thought Jasmine.

She went on to the jazz club downtown. The messy haired boy was still there blowing his horn. But the moment Jasmine walked in he immediately ran over... to THEM.... "WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!!!!!!!" screamed Jasmine. "THIS IS NOT WHAT I BARGAINED FOR!!!! I wanted the mortal boys to see me- ME, and pay attention to ME!!! Not... THEM!!!!"

So Jasmine decided to give up on boys and just do something that will take up her time so she won't have to deal with these situations.

So, she enrolled into law school.

3 years later...

We find Jasmine in the computer lab at school studying for her bar exam. Just as she was taking a minute brake peaking at Ale's blog, the computer froze.

"Uffff" thought Jasmine, "This being mortal thing just keeps getting better and better!" She raised her hand and snapped her fingers. The nerdy and absentminded looking lab attendant guy was completely oblivious of her. "Figures, nothing a girl can do will ever get their attention... except of course flashing her boobs!"

So she marched over to his desk and said: "Excuse me! Did you not see me calling you over!! My computer froze."

"Oh I'm so sorry, I've misplaced my glasses and without them, I'm afraid, I'm totally blind!" Said the nerd, smiling and wrinkling his freckled nose.

He does have very nice green eyes, Jasmine thought, even if he can’t focus them on anything...

"Oh, can you show me where your computer is? I can't see where I'm walking..." Said the cute nerd.

So Jasmine held his hand as they walked across the computer lab. "Ah, how nice and warm it feels" thought Jasmine. After fixing her computer they both realized that they had a love for jazz in common. They spent the entire night talking, laughing and exchanging mp3 files from his iPod to hers. It was the greatest evening!

Later that night...or shall we say early in the morning, when Jasmine and the cute nerd laid in her bed embraced, she asked him: "When you find your glasses and see me... will you change your opinion of me??"

"How could I!? Plus, I HAVE seen you, nothing can alter the vision I already have of you."

"Ahhh" thought Jasmine... "Who knew that it would take a blind man to really see a woman."

And with these happy and satisfied thoughts Jasmine fell asleep...

The END

Jasmine Noir

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

Ed. update: the tech boy has a name and that name is chris. i told my friend mike at school about my tech boy crush. i told him i didn't even know tech boy's name, but that the guy in the booth was working with him today. mike turned around, walked into the tech booth and said, "what's the name of that guy who was just working here with you? my friend has a crush on him. does he have a girlfriend?" i'm sitting outside, my jaw is dropped and i'm speechless/mortified/i don't even know what. guy in booth says boy's name is chris, that he doesn't think he has a girlfriend but doesn't really know. i gotta make a move. eek! it's scary...

now, without further ado...guest post by g.lo. also, i'm happy to note that i'm NOT flashing anyone in this one!

It was hot in LA. Muggy. With mostly inverted skies and hint of chemical in the wind. I had left my office after a phone call from one of my famous clients but decided to check the Louis Vuitton knock-offs at Hollywood and Vine before attending to business.

A tourist couple wandered the avenue, reading the quotes along the famous walk of stars. They came upon a cryptic message from Bruce Willis: “Beware the Jasmine in March.”

Little did this couple realize, but my seemingly unrelated argument with an Asian-American woman over a handbag had been precipitated by this statement. The legend of The Jasmine. Just another of the many secrets in this place called Lollywood. Er…Hollywood.

I cruised down the dank streets of Sunset Boulevard. Not a single apartment complex of attractive 20-somethings greeted my drive. Disappointing. At least there were prostitutes; there would always be prostitutes.

When I reached the snazzy hotel housing my client, I let the valet park my Nissan Sentra. He jerked along the drive, unfamiliar with the vehicles of the lower class.

My beautiful client awaited me in the restaurant. Even though I’m a girl, I threw on a jacket and tie because I never know how to behave in swanky establishments. The celebrity waved me over.

“I got here as fast as I could,” I informed Topher before I grabbed some sushi off his plate.

He looked ready to cry. Celebrities today cry a lot. In fact, only Ashton Kutcher cries more than Topher – must be a ‘70s thing.

“She’s here!” Topher stammered. “I saw her. She knows my name!”

“Topher, everyone knows your name.”

“No, not that name – my pretend name,” he whispered.

Then he succumbed to sobbing. I took the opportunity to sample the raspberry and glazed walnut salad. It was delicious.

After savoring the sweet rosemary vinaigrette, I murmured through a full mouth, “She isn’t real, Topher. It’s just a legend. There is no Jasmine.”

“No! Look! There she is by the bar.”

I glanced over and saw firm cleavage attached to the artificially young face of my next door neighbor. “Not her, Topher. You’ve been seeing old ladies again.”

“No! I saw her! That may not be her, but I’m dating her friend! I-I’ve never actually seen her face.” He looked embarrassed. He should be. The breasts are great, but women are people first. Even if this woman is just a legend.

“Not possible. There is no Jasmine. I’ve searched for years. Chased rumors of her in snow-soaked Sundance, followed sightings in sunny Tuscany, and once almost rummaged through garbage but realized it was gross. There is no Jasmine. It’s a legend the older guys have told to make you pass up the good roles.”

“But John Lythgow wouldn’t lie! And Hugh Jackman swears they’re friends! She’s real, I tell you!”

I sighed. There’s no arguing with blind belief. “Okay, here’s a new super-secret identity based on cartoon/children’s characters. If she is real, she’ll never find you now.”

Topher looked relieved as he accepted the package. I slid out the door, still licking my fingers from a stolen swipe of lemon sorbet.

My Sentra arrived. On the passenger side sat a young, attractive law student immersed in preparation for the bar. I handed her a wallet as I started the engine.

“Topher’s stuff. Should make it easier for you to track him. And I gave him Buttercup Blossom as a new identity.”

The Jasmine smiled. Then she silently resumed her study of the law.

Hollywood. It’s a place of stars, of dreams. The land of legends. And no legend is more real than that of…..The Jasmine

checking in...

will post glo's entry tomorrow.

tech boy is in the building. don't ask how i'm supposed to get him alone and away from all the other tech boys. i'll have to think of something.

things i want right now:

a snoopy sno cone maker

a good massage

more comfortable chairs in the library

but otherwise, i'm alive and seem to be in working order except for this slight pain i'm having kind on the left side of my abdomen. i'm thinking it's something related to the awful posture these chairs reduce me to. damn chairs. i think my posture is one of my best qualities (i know that sounds retarded, but it's true) and i'm really messing it up doing this studying thing.

ciao for now.

MadLibs...in strange places

Welcome to MadLibs by Omar!

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

Exclamation:

Article of Clothing:

Color:

Noun:

Male Celebrity:

Number:

Term of Endearment:

Another Exclamation:

Noun:

Number:

Male Actor:

Movie That Actor Was In:

Food (plural):

if anybody comes up with a particularly funny line, feel free to share it in the comments.

also, on a sidenote: since the bar is here soon, if i'm gonna make a move on my tech crush i have to do it soon. he's really pretty and doesn't know it and is really shy. i have no idea what his name is but i think i'd be sad to never see him again. i definitely don't know him well enough to know if i'd really like him or have anything in common with him. you think i make the move or not? just to see? and if so, any suggestions on how to do it? he makes me nervous.

he had her at vole-o

by Cadiz12

Ed. note: while jasmine is off studying for the bar, she's rounded up some forces to keep the readers happy while she's gone. enjoy!

she'd had her eye on him for a long time. even just glimpses of that sleek coat and beady eyes were too much for a sophisticated city girl to handle. but what really got to her was the air of mystery. no one could touch him.

and that just made her want him more.

for months now, she'd tracked his movements and dreamt about having his paws all over her. she tried to ignore it, but the yearning would sneak up and overtake her at inopportune moments -- like when she was trying to remember if it was legal for a kid to sue a parent for negligent supervision in the state of new york, or deciding whether to have that extra shot of espresso in her mocha-choco-latte.

those nights when she playfully flirted at the bar with underage children in hats? ha. those were a means of distraction. sure, she'd be breezy about her brushes with celebrity, but all that was nothing more than a facade.

she had to face the truth. it'd always been about the bad boys. bikers, trumpet players, geeks -- they somehow got under her skin. she'd been able to resist in the past, but this one was just. too. good.

she had no choice but to give in. only a few weeks before the bar exam, she knew there was no way she could study if he continued to take up the majority of her thoughts. so she concocted a plan. culling together tidbits from 'The Secret to Stalking,' volumes one through six, she gathered equipment. she also sought advice from the experts.

'you have to take copious notes,' 1gloriousconundrum said, with a twinkle in her eye. 'he sounds like a wily one; you'll need to zone in on a subtle detail to snag this type of vermin.

next she took a minibreak to the lush land of omar for a little reconnaissance.

'i wish i could help you,' mr. phillips said. 'i've tried everything from bribery to death threats, and i haven't even gotten a good look at him yet. that little rascal is damn sneaky. he's a menace to society! and since the bird-squeezing incident, i fear or the safety of my family.'

ooh, she thought to herself, he's dangerous. i think i'm in love!

'yours is a very tricky operation,' jon said. 'are you sure you want to get involved with such a slick character? i mean, what if he fraternizes with the likes of dakota fanning?!'

cadiz wasn't very sympathetic, either.

'that guy doesn't play around,' she said. 'i don't know what you see in him; when i look into those beady little eyes, all i see is evil.'

at this point she knew she had to take matters into her own hands. she looked down at her chest and said, 'girls, it's time we hooked ourselves a rodent.'

with the help of g-lo's surveillance equipment and a 'you go, girl,' from ale, she set off. week after week, she haunted his hangouts, hoping to get his attention. and she tried all of her usual tricks: dressing cute, wearing her hair in pigtails, even sending suggestive text messages.

none of it worked. he'd just scurry by as if she were a lawn ornament.

she'd had enough. it was time to bust out the big guns.

late one night, she set up camp at the phillipses' garage. she knew he'd be casing the place, so she figured she'd confront him. she waited until he was good and distracted with his tape measure and calculator.

'hey big boy,' she said as she sauntered out in front of him. and before he could react, she flashed him.

it's in the bag, she said to herself.

he coolly put down his calculator and looked at her blankly.

'you know, babydoll, that wasn't necessary,' he said. 'don't get me wrong, they're very nice. but chicks show me those things all the time, and frankly i need much more in a woman than that. however, i must admit i've had my eye on you for months. i've been absolutely intrigued ever since i spotted you in the park reading 'Dos Fantasias Memorables,' by jorge borges. i've been stalking you ever since, and i must say a woman with a brain in her head is the biggest turn-on ever.'

'but why didn't you ever talk to me? i've been trying to get your attention for so long!'

'well, as smooth a criminal as everyone thinks i am, deep down i'm really just a nerd at heart. and i'm your age. i figured you just like younger, more celebrity-like faces. i wasn't sure you'd be into the real me.'

she couldn't speak. all she could manage was to pull out her trusty creme brulee torch from the louis vuitton handbag on her shoulder.

he smiled. then he reached into his knapsack and retrieved an identical torch

this message will self-destruct in...

so digi had the brilliant idea to get a few guest bloggers in here while i'm busy doing this pesky thing called the bar exam.

digi, glo, omar, former intern andy, cadiz, hermes, jon and ale have all agreed to step up to the plate to help a girl out (if others of you feel so inclined, feel free to send something over, these are the people who i've already guilted into doing this for me).

your mission, should you choose to accept it:

write a post in my absence. you can write it as if you were in my shoes and be jasmine for the day (you know, do some faux stalking, hunt for boys, hit on young uns, general playtime in new york city, show some boobies, catch some celebrity sightings). you can write fiction or non. you can write a fairy tale starring moi. you have an open license to completely make fun of my life and writings in your own distinct style. do whatever. be creative. keep me from throwing myself off the third floor library balcony. you've got an open slate, just keep the kiddies entertained, will ya?

e-mail posts over whenever you've got the time and i'll start posting them every couple of days starting next week (hopefully i'll receive some by then). if you feel like you wanna put in links, let me know where. if you wanna go crazy with pictures, i'll e-mail you my password and let you do that work yourself ;)

basically, i think it will be fun for the people who read my blog to see some of the writing from blogs they may not follow themselves. the list of people up there are are all pretty different, have different writing styles but are all geniuses in their own right. i think this will be fun. hopefully you will too!

ease up y'all!

so have started to get new post demands, which makes me feel quite loved actually, but for the next month all people are going to have to get used to me being around a lot less. this is OFFICIALLY bar crunch time. we were told to savor 4th of july weekend, because that would be the last time we saw our friends or family until the 28th of july. it's gonna be hard, but everyone is just going to have to suck it up. ;)

have been dog sitting and i don't have my cord (i actually just spelled that chord and looked at it like something was wrong, but i couldn't figure out what...sigh, i'm an idiot musician obviously) with me or else i'd put up pics of aspen, one of my new favorite dogs in the whole world. she's absolutely the best. everytime i walk her i get stopped half a dozen times so people can tell me how beautiful she is. with a toss of my hair i always say, "i know...thank you..." like any proud surrogate mother would. though i have yet to meet any men with her. it was my secret plan for the weekend. i do have to say, however, that there are plenty of hot men down here in tribeca, but they're always running or biking or something and it's extremely hard to try to hit on a guy riding past you at 25mph. if you have any suggestions, shoot them over. i've thought of everything short of carrying a stick with me to toss in their spokes. being the bright law student i am, i'm fully aware that i could be sued for mucho dinero if i pulled such a stunt so i'm abstaining, for now. [insert evil laugh here: mwahahahaha]

also, there are a billion darling and ridiculously good restaurants down here that i've never been to and i've been eating out two meals a day (usually with dessert), so on top of the fact i'm slowly spending my way into a cardboard box, i'm most certainly gaining 20 pounds at the same time. for fuck's sake!

i did have a lovely day in long beach yesterday. spent it playing in the ocean and drinking LOT of pimms (it's an english concoction that you stick lots of fun fruit in. google it and then find out where you can get it. it's a liqueur that you add sprite to and it's EXCELLENT) and beer. my friend K's younger brother was having a party at his place out there and a good time was had by all. i also learned i'm crap at bocce ball.

skinny is currently in L.A. with topher grace as we speak. a tidbit for y'all: he stays at the bel air under the name "christopher robin." isn't that cute? if i get any gossip i'll be sure to pass it on, like the generous stalker i am.