Jessica Schein

I used to live in New York City. Now I don't. I used to be in my twenties. Now I'm not. I used to blog a lot more. Now I'm trying to do so more often. All opinions are my own.
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I was all ready to settle into post-vacation Tuesday blues when I got to work this morning and found the above on my desk chair.

[Insert major squeeing here]

I am normally not one for Internet bragging but in this case I sorta have to because JOHN GREEN SIGNED MY COPY OF THE FAULT IN OUR STARS! (Thank you, awesome co-workers)

If you’re somehow not familiar with this book (how? how could you not be?), here’s where I talk about how much I loved it. I was limited in what I could say because I read it early and therefore had to sign an embargo agreement with the publisher. Despite this I think I still got my point across: The Fault In Our Stars is the best book I’ve read in years. YEARS.

If you don’t want to go by my opinion alone, Kate, Joy, and Kevin—all of whom are great readers with excellent taste—have shared why they love it, too.

Now I just need to figure out where in my apartment I should put this so that I can stare at it forever. Is taping it to the front door really weird?

So these people are now following me on Twitter.

Obvs.

Post Runyon Canyon hike smoothie.

I will never say anything bad about LA again.

Mitt Romney and his wife, Ann, made $27 million in 2010. They held millions of dollars in a Swiss bank account and millions more in partnerships in the Cayman Islands. His family’s trusts sold thousands of shares in Goldman Sachs that were offered to favored clients when the storied investment house first went public…

The New York Times

For a second I thought I was reading the intro to a Hollywood script not unlike The Firm, in which millions of dollars are funneled to offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands.

But then I remembered that no, this isn’t the movies. It’s just politics and business as usual.

thedailyfeed:

Has Ani DiFranco, the oft-labeled “angry” singer-songwriter, has finally found contentment? Now 41 and married with an almost 5-year-old daughter, DiFranco just released her 17th studio album, “¿Which Side Are You on?” She sat down with The Daily to talk about being a happier, healthier rebel.

In your song “J,” you continue your open discussion of pot smoking. Was there any debate over whether or not you’d remain a smoker after having your child?
Well, sure. You worry about things when you’re pregnant and breastfeeding and every woman finds their own balance with that. Now my kid is pushing 5, as she becomes more aware, you’re like, “OK, now do I have to hide it from her?” It’s ridiculously illegal in our society. But I don’t think it’s wrong. I think of all the mood-altering substances that we partake in legally all day long, this is far less offensive. 

You say, “If you’re not getting happier as you get older, you’re f***in’ up.” Are you getting happier?
Thankfully, I am, and therefore healthier. I used to consider myself very susceptible, almost sickly. And now I realize that I was just stressed out. As I’ve become happier and calmer, I’m way healthier, stronger, I sleep better. It’s amazing stuff, happiness.

Does the old Ani ever creep in and say, “What are you doing? Work faster!”?
There’s something about driven people, artists, pounding away on the road and spitting albums into the world and furiously creating songs. People who do that are broken. They have huge, gaping holes inside of them, and they’re trying to fill them with something. That’s what I was doing.

If one were to consider the rabid consumption of an artist’s records over the course of his or her lifetime a relationship, then I have been seeing Ani DiFranco since 1995.

Like any long term love, we’ve had our ups (Dilate, Living in Clip, Not a Pretty Girl) and downs (Red Letter Year) but I am still loyal because, to me, Ani DiFranco is much more than just a singer/songwriter.

Listening to her on my Discman with my bedroom door closed, Ani put to words the teenage angst I couldn’t yet understand or express. Moreover, I admired how proudly she presented her shaved head, nose ring, and bisexuality. In my tiny Manhattan private school she would have been an outcast, and I imagined she’d be okay with that. I couldn’t claim such courage. If anything, I was her opposite. I spent much of my time trying to keep my own colors within the lines drawn by the popular crowd.

Eventually I got older and moved past my fear of not being exactly like everyone else. Around the same time Ani started to calm down, too. At 41 she may not be angry anymore, but she’s still every bit the righteous babe—the namesake of the record company she founded at the age of twenty—she was two decades ago.

In “Gravel,” my favorite single off of her 1998 album Little Plastic Castle, Ani admits to taking back an insensitive lover because as she says, “What can I say? I adore you.”

I know the feeling, Ani.

fromnewyorkwithlove:

first snow of 2012 hit new york last night.

There are very few moments when NYC is completely quiet. During and right after a snowstorm are two of them. I think it’s because the weather forces the city’s residents to temporarily accept staying inside as opposed to doing what New Yorkers normally do: get all up in the middle of things.

I miss my hometown.

I spent a lot of time wallowing in my own sorrow today. In addition to the fact that I’m currently struggling with insomnia, I experienced yet more writerly rejection, learned that three running races I wanted to enter this year are already full, stepped in a deceptively deep puddle that resulted in my shoe flooding with slush, and struggled up three slippery hills home. In the rain.

Today was not my finest Friday.

I was all set to accept defeat and proclaim the day ruined until I passed a blind man trying to walk on the icy street. I mean, what the hell is scarier than not being able to see where you’re going on an extremely slick surface? Not only that, for all his current troubles this man hadn’t even gotten to enjoy watching yesterday’s beautiful snowfall.

I asked him if he needed help and he graciously declined, telling me he would prefer to get home on his own. Although it was a quick exchange it was long enough for me to be struck by his strength—a virtue, I realized, I was lacking. Because, really, apart from a couple of minor grievances nothing is truly wrong. What was I so distressed about all day? I even had a few movies and a homemade pizza courtesy of my wonderful boyfriend to look forward to.

Enough, Jess, enough, I thought.

As we parted ways I told the man to have a good evening and he wished me the same.

And now here I sit, a glass of red wine in hand, doing just that: enjoying my night.

I hope he is, too.

Does anyone else dip their eggs in ketchup, or is it just me?

Wondering why these four books are shown here together?

Oh just ‘cause they represent #1, #2, #3, and #4 on this week’s USA Today bestseller list.

Basically, they’re a really big deal and yeah, young adult books rock.