Setting: A crowded car on the Richmond BART line, Thanksgiving afternoon. An uncomfortable captive audience looks on as a silent man is accosted by a drunk woman whose voice and demeanor are eerily reminiscent of Nancy’s in Sid and Nancy (”but Siiiiiiid! What about the farewell Dwuuuuuugs!?!”). The couple have a perhaps six-year old child and stroller-bound infant in tow.

Woman: I hate you, Larry. You’re such an asshole. Fuck you, Larry.

- Larry studies the stains in the nasty BART carpet -

Woman: I’ve given ten years of my life to you. Ten years of my —-

Child: Mommy?
Woman: (to child) Shush! I hate you!

- Child begins to cry -

Woman: Ten years. You’re such an asshole.

- Larry begins to wish he were a stain on a nasty BART carpet, instead of a human being with the capacity to be humiliated -

Woman: Rot in hell, Larry. Fuck you.

Woman sitting next to Janna: (to Janna) Happy fucking Thanksgiving, eh?
Janna: No kidding.

Narrator: The moral of this story: if no one yelled obscenities at you in a public place today, you have something to be grateful for.

Happy (belated) Thanksgiving from Project Janna. Give someone a hug today, and be glad you aren’t degraded by people you love. If you are, get help.

I need a job. At the moment, I’m working temp and contractual positions. This is fine, except for the fact that there is no job security and no health insurance. Being “in transition” has been interesting thus far, but it’s time to move on.

Here are my categories of potential employment:

• Boring, decent-paying work with good benefits that will eventually cause me to contemplate throwing myself off a bridge. This is bad, as there are many conveniently located bridges in the Bay Area. This category includes admin support work. I am well-qualified for these jobs.

• Stressful, mid-to-low paying work with decent benefits that will rapidly cause me to contemplate throwing myself off a bridge. Note to self: choose a bridge plastered with an obnoxious logo (this personal crisis brought to you by Cingular!). This category includes social service and social justice work. My résumé is chock full of these jobs.

• Variably paid yet awesome work, with benefits enjoyed only by a lucky few. These jobs include writing gigs and graphic design work. I am moderately qualified for this sort of thing, but the competition is fierce.

• Impressively compensated work that might be fun, but for which I have no frame of reference, let alone applicable skills. This category is brought to you by my friend Colin, who likes to tell me that I should learn perl. He also likes to tell me that there are jobs out there for people who know perl. I am guessing one would be called a “Programmer” if one’s job centered around the use of perl, but I’m not really sure.

Of course, I am most drawn to the jobs I am least qualified for. I guess this is predictable, considering that the others have morbid consequences. However, for now, I’ll take what I can get. A guaranteed paycheck will go far toward keeping those bridges at bay. At least until I learn perl.

San Francisco’s public transportation system consists of a variety of options for getting from Point A to Point B. There’s BART, the subway system that attracts birds to its underground platforms; the tourist-happy cable car option; garden-variety buses; and, my favorite, the light rail.

There’s a good reason I prefer the light rail: aside from BART, I’ve never actually used any of the other methods. When your repertoire is limited, your “fave” is going to be something you’ve actually encountered. My experience with the light rail itself is spotty as well: of the five possible routes, I’ve only traveled one. Aside from a brief flirtation with the J Church (which I wisely opted to end before getting carried away), I have maintained a monogamous relationship with the N Judah.

Why the N? Well, first of all, we have a lot in common. The N and I hang out in the same places – the Upper and Lower Haight; Cole Valley; the Sunset; Ocean Beach. We both have Ns in our names (I have 3! JaNNa LaureN). We both … well, maybe that’s where it ends. However, we also understand each other. I tolerate the N’s flakiness. After all, who needs reliability in public transportation? That’s just plain Fascist. The N, for its part, allows me to take art-y photographs of its interior, and never complains when I open its doors with a satisfying kick.

I suppose we’ll have to move on eventually. I’ll find some sort of worthwhile activity in, say, Noe Valley, and I’ll be forced to explore a relationship with the J. After all, J as in Church complements J as in Janna. Until then, however, the N remains my one and only.

Underground at the 24th Mission BART Station the other day:

The Golden Gate Bridge is apparently a few dozen million dollars in the red. According to this SF Chronicle article, its Board of Directors is looking to rustle up some cash by “weav[ing] corporate branding into [this] heavily trafficked tourist attraction.” Personally, I can’t decide whether to be appalled or to have some fun exploiting the absurdity of treating a beautiful, internationally admired landmark like a baseball stadium.

The reasons for outrage are obvious: this can’t possibly be done in a non-tacky way. The Bridge was consciously and meticulously designed to reflect the natural beauty of the landscape. A Google or Cingular logo plastered anywhere near the structure would negate this careful planning. How does the Board envision “enhanc[ing] the value of the Golden Gate’s ‘brand’?” Here’s an explanation, from the article quoted above (previous quotes from same):

the district’s plans follow the lead of the National Park Service’s “Proud Partners Program,” which has raised $100 million from corporations such as Discover and Ford Motor Co … signs at trailheads in some parks greet hikers with: “This trail brought to you by Ford.”

The highly amusing idea of a motor vehicle company sponsoring a hiking trail (gas-guzzler guilt, anyone?) made me wonder how the Bridge branding could be optimized humor-wise. My solution? Perhaps French Connection could be the sponsor. Here’s one possibility, with the logo modified to fit the Art Deco style:

IMPORTANT: this image is a joke and is not associated with French Connection.

Setting: A bookstore in San Francisco, the US city with the second-highest rate of higher education.

Upper-Middle-Class Woman A: I want to find this book, called, I don’t know, Lolita, or something.
Woman B: What’s it about?
Woman A: I forget. I wonder what section it’s in.

(The women walk to an information kiosk to locate the mysterious text)

Janna: (thinking to herself) This will make a killer blog post.

Too cool for words: