cognitive fiction.

sometimes, but not always, i miss the days of my restless childhood. the days when all i yearned for was to break away, and be free. run away to a city. so big no one could ever find me and i wouldn't have to answer to anyone. thrillseeking. breaking out. making that name for myself, defining who is and what would become, miss jodi robin root, born may 26th, 1983 and raised in south western rural wisconsin.

the days of swinging on gnarled ropes in flea infested hay mows. cuddling half feral, fur matted, eye gunked kittens against their will. tip toeing the makeshift balance beam aisle between the rotating shit belt and mawing cows, subconsciously etching the sounds of swishing cowtails and R.E.M's 1991 hit "Losing My Religion" in my self, so that anytime I would remember my days of girlhood at the Richland Center family farm, the nasally vocals of Michael Stipe would linger on.

wearing breadbags over my shoes instead of boots in the wet winters. oversized glasses. many a puff paint t-shirt, sporting my squiggly 4-letter name. way too many troll dolls, eventually transitioning into way too many lip gloss kits. poorly plucked eyebrows. angst teen journals, shoved into broken shoe boxes, tearing at the creases, secretly jammed under my full bed. only available social activities consisting of strolls to the duckpond on the outskirt of village limits, soaring as high as my pumping chicken legs would allow on the rusty swingset at the town park, daydreaming of first kisses under the baseball diamond bleachers, walks to the bj petro for a mountain dew and icecream cookie sandwich, flavorful chocolate malts and deepfried cheese curds at irma's kitchen. getting the mail at the post office. throwing rocks off the dam in the pecatonica river. fantasizing about first kisses on the merry go round. wishing my glasses weren't so big. and finally, when they weren't, wishing i would grow into my body. hoping my mind would someday soon be appeased. find some sort of something for me in the rural quiet madness.

always writing, always waiting.

i'm no longer in small town wisconsin. nor do i think i ever will be again, at least for the longhaul. my mother has since moved residences, two times in the past ten years. my childhood companion callie has long since passed. my backyard tree fort was sawed to the ground before i reached 20. classmates remain, although ironically enough, their cold shouldered tendencies still manage to haunt my dreams, with dream jodi still vying for nothing more than simple inclusion and friendship. yet regardless of no dreams or aspirations lingering in my past hometown, the skeletons within my subconscious still yearn for my return.

it's been nearly 2 years since i have had a real visit home. there was a 36 hour stint over christmas 2010, in which i sluggishly and slack jawed caved in to a freaks and geeks and law and order svu television marathons on TNT with my stoned 60 year old mother, eating cheeses and slurping box wine all the while. but there was no exploring. no writing. nor has there been in my  now, really.

my life has taken off, found its launch pad. its center orbit. meaning, match, purpose.

the skeletons can finally sleep. yet it's still not enough. i no longer need to wait, but the hidden desire and drive to write, to pen it all down for the record, remains.

i wrote a blog the other night while a bit too tipsy for my own good, but never hit publish post. it was a tangent rant of sorts about the plus/minuses of new year's resolutions. i pretty much bashed it since i was too lazy to come up with one for myself in 2012. i figure, what's the point in annual goals? I already have to do that shit at my job, why force myself to commit to ideals for a mere 365 days for self betterment? can't i just do me and live my life how i want, guilt-free if i eat too many calories? i don't commit to tedious objectives, but rather make life long commitments instead. to friends, family, and my husband. i don't need Cosmopolitan telling me to do more ab crunches and what breakfast snacks are sexy. thanks, but no thanks.

i do think, however, that i should make it a point, (note how i'm not saying resolve or make a resolution, here, due to stubbornness alone), to try and write more this year. the desire to describe, and sew a tale of details with words is strong, yet i always seem to stop myself because i never have a solid story to tell. more of glimmers and glimpses into my perspective or ideas that haunt my thoughts. i read a story my husband wrote about a past love the other day. it was really, really good. i got jealous, even, of his ability to craft prose. i caught myself gazing at him while he fake slept in the late morning hours, daydreaming of how happy of a life it would be, if neither one of us had to worry about financial responsibilities, and could rent ourselves a small and simple apartment, big enough for the 2 of us (and our cats), but with separate spaces reserved for writing. 2 desks, and maybe even a typewriter for sport. if we didn't have to work, but instead, were disciplined enough to set time apart each day for our writings. meeting every couple of hours for a lemonade/iced tea break, to chat over ideas and discuss inspiration. collaborating, even, and blending our mutual passion for fiction and non-fiction alike.

that would be nice, is all. but the fact that i even have a husband, career, apartment, and 2 cats is enough for me. but i do think 2012 is my time to discard all baggage. emotional, physical, and ideals. let it all go, and move forward focusing on only my loves and passions. literature, included. penned by others, and possibly even me.

something tells me a trip to wisconsin is in the works. perhaps a trip down nostalgia lane will uproot my humble beginnings and will light that wick, that's been patiently waiting and waivering, inside my creative being for far too long.

moving forward.

totally fell in love with adele about 1 year too late. this song is intense, reminds me of my days former, when brooding over a man wasn't only make believe. her lyrics are poignant, and an accurate portrayal of a female done wrong in love. brings back the sour taste of past turbulent times. days of weakness and naivety. in that regard, she is a success, and creates the ultimate pop song. girls, just try to not hit repeat on this jam, it's the most addictive chickshit since aimee mann's 'save me.'

music for married people.

digging through the closet in a half drunken attempt to clean, i came across the shoebox of wedding cards and left-over wedding favors - vin and my mix cd  'vincent and jodi: songs to give you cavities"

here's the tracklisting, we have plenty left-over, so if you want one for xmas, maybe santa can slip one under the sheets? its' a good journey thru vin/my sappy jamz.

(or not). regardless, it's a fun lesson - i think even singlez could enjoy.

1) the flamingos- i only have eyes for you
2) jose gonzalez - heartbeats
3) pixies -gigantic
4) wolf parade - this heart's on fire
5) wild flag - romance
6) beck - think i'm in love
7) robyn - indestructible
8) cut copy - hearts on fire
9) handsome furs - i'm confused
10) hall & oates - you make my dreams
11) mates of state - like u crazy
12) the cure -friday i'm in love
13) bloc party - this modern love
14) yeah yeah yeahs - maps
15) thee oh sees - if i stay too long
16) nouvelle vague - i melt with you

2011's hits & misses

so it's that time again. the time where jodi is finally de-stressed enough, with a night to herself with no immediate chores/objectives, and just the comfort of her sweat pants, a bottle of yellow tail merlot, the opportunity to run around the empty apartment flashing her tits at the dumbstruck felines, and do whatever the hell she wants. and comes back ashamed to her long term neglected poor excuse for a blog. (hell, it beats folding laundry). just realized it happens to be november, as in the END of november. it's hard to realize this, given i just biked to the radio station after slumming the day off away, wearing only a track jacket hoodie to boot, but eff it, who needs to complain about the mysterious pleasantries? digging the new m83 album, contemplating if there are any additional purchase worth scavenging for at reckless before family burb holiday time tomorrow while the spouse slumbers, but instead i'm focusing on what worked vs. what didn't, this past year in music.

was a pretty nuts year for me. didn't focus so much on the regular rigamarol of musics in 2011. but that doesn't mean there weren't some solid beats slapped on the ole iPod. here's my list so far. perhaps if i get motivated enough before year's end i'll provide summaries of explanation, but without further ado - here's miss jodi robin (root) sassana's top o' the pops.

what i've been listening to (this past week):
1) M83 - hurry up, we're dreaming
2) doomtree - no kings
3) mike & the censations (michael james kirkland) - don't sell your soul
4) dead presidents soundtrack - (yeah, i know it's been around forever, but i'm finally getting my flirt on with my crucial soul roots)

what's made an impact (this past year)
1) jay-z & kanye west - watch the throne

2) pj harvey - let england shake
3) sims - bad time zoo
4) mike & the censations - don't sell your soul5) thao & mirah - self-titled
6) lady gaga - born this way
7) yacht - shangri-la
8) doomtree- no kings
9) lykke li - youth novels
10) wild flag - self-titled

11) tennis - cape dory
12) panda bear - tomboy

honorable mentions (as in, wasn't really expecting much but wound up listening more than i realized)
 1) cut copy - zonoscope

2) shabazz palaces - black up


the second date slump
(anticipated top tens of the year, but alas, sadly admitted long-term let-downs, but still solid b/c i heart these guys so much, but let's be honest here, after forcing myself on repeat for 2-3 weeks post-release, i kinda forgot they dropped; just lost that first impression spark :( - (aka 2010's - spoon transference )
1) lil wayne - tha carter iv
2) bon iver - bon iver

3) atmosphere - the family sign
4) tv on the radio - nine types of light
5) bright eyes - the people's key
6) the go team! - rolling blackouts
7) radiohead - the king of limbs
8) the decemberists - the king is dead


downright terrible (and mad at myself for buying into the hype)
1) tyler the creater - goblin

the dream: carrion crawler (empty bottle, thee oh sees remix)

got plans pre-blackfriday/thursday/wednesday? you know, the nite the real kewl kids come out to play? now you do. empty bottle still has tix on sale. come hither, bitches, and see what miss jodi missed out on in a drunken stupid three quarters into what should have/would have been a super stellar solid set some 5 months prior. thee oh sees are scheduled to rock the empty bottle for two sets, one at 7 for ya'll nerds, and another at 10 for the super kewl dudez (such as yrs truly).

like cool-io, i'll c u when u get thurrr. shit will be bananas.

no kings.

ok, so maybe 'ye & jay got my top vote for numero uno for 2011. but fuck if doomtree don't give this egotistical duo a run for their money. (& i just downloaded this noise approx. 1.5 hrs ago, post lame work happy hour).

doomtree 4ever.

my last day as a single lady.

it rained today. kinda, a lot. i know cuz i was stuck walking in it in a pretty soaked jacket. i really need to get windshield wipers on my glasses, i think - couldn't see a damn thing.

it was my first of 14 days off of work. pretty intense, because that job of mine has consumed 99% of my existence for the past 6 months, and i was pretty nervous to transition the madness on my recently hired soon to be sister in law. don't want her hating me when i come back. she's a tough cookie, though, and can take it.

last night some colleagues from the office took me out for a 'bachelorette' party (although my real one with penis paraphanalia and justin bieber goodies def was waaaaay better and raunchier) at some overpriced irish pub downtown after work. kind of awkward, but also kind of awesome. dr. perlman bought me a shot of citron, and several martinis were consumed, which led to an urgent affair with the porcelain throne soon after my arrival back to the apartment, around 8:30 or so last night. (i'm old, lame, whatever).

the warm wishes and presents from my work acquaintences has been so incredible. i never thought i'd get as much loot as we did from co-workers, but it's definitely helping. turns out planning and implementing a last minute move across neighborhoods and maintaining a comfortable lifestyle in lakeview east isn't the cheapest. but fuck it, we live on the lakefront now. and have furniture. and vinyl. and big tvs. and color coordinated toothbrush holders/soap dispensers/bathroom garbage can sets.

life is comfortable. and sexy. i'm marrying a pretty good catch, tomorrow. his name is vincent. i met him almost 2 years ago, when i began dating a friend of his. this friend, wasn't the fit i wanted in my life at the time. took me on a bumpy emotional rollercoaster of a journey for an entire year. then, as i finally jumped off that dizzying ride, emotionally drained, there was vincent. full of affection and mentally, emotionally and physically, the partner i'd been seeking for all that time. without realizing it. i was very aloof at first, not really ready to break the whole 'bro's b4 ho's' code, but no matter how much i tried to pretend we didn't have an immediate spark, we both knew we did. things got messy for a little while, but after an 'anonymous' love letter, some mystery flowers delivered at my office, and a handful of semi-regular reoccuring 'team friendship' hangout seshes, we inevitably succumbed to our previously denied (by me) romance one liquid courage fueled ridiculous non-date fun night.

we never really turned back, after that. we courted (does that still happen?) for a couple weeks to which point we crossed the official bf/gf bridge. had a lot of fun continuing to get to know one another. butterflies. late night talks. really delicious (too much so) co-cooking dates. a ton of really bad redbox movies. family introductions. a trip to mexico. then, come june 19, 2011, one random bike ride to budacki's turned into a marriage proposal. (in our underpants on a mattress in a bedroom decorated with only a ratted russian doll and a bloody jesus crucifix and a calligraphy poster which read SILENCE). i said yes.

one month post engagement, mr. sassana moved into my dungeon of a garden apartment in the dirty, less hip side of wicker park. we went to jewel a lot. played mario kart. (after we co-invested in a wii together, there was 'no turning back now'). then we purchased a 40 inch flat screen television (now we're definitely in this for the long run). adopted a second cat, the notoriously naughty and awful biter, elliott. we continued to grow and evolve, and became the bestest of friends. had an engagement party that went quite well, thanks to our warm and caring friends and family, and their endless support.

then one day, i woke up and couldn't breathe. not because of my bff 4 lyfe, but literally. and neither could vincent. our apartment had turned into an ant infested dust trap, and living with a 3rd roommate just wasn't working out anymore. i branched out on one of my infamous instant gratification desires to do something new and NOW. 'let's move out,' i said. he said, 'yeah, sure, i can't wait.' but didn't realize i already had a plan in mind. in less than a week, i had arranged for my cousin to relocate from wisconsin, take over my lease in the garden unit, moved to chicago and started a job with my company. vincent got us our dream apartment through his employer, and we now live in a nicer home i've ever had. we have nice things. we clean our apartment together. but shit, was stressful. between moving, working, and barely having a day and half together, we didn't have the time we wanted to prepare for our life together, but we made it work somehow anyway. thanks to friends, family for helping us with our move and planning our wedding on our behalf.

and now here it is, 6:49pm. the night before go-time. vin's in the bedroom, reading a book. the kitties are jingling with their collar bells, and i'm wrapped up in a beautiful granny shawl just presented to me by my good friend sarah, hand knitted just in time for the wedding tomorrow. my nails are freshly manicured, hair dyed, eyebrows waxed, house cleaned, everything except our honeymoon luggage packed.

i'm getting married, tomorrow. to the love of my life - who yes i admit, i haven't known all that long. but even though we may not have met in person years ago, i feel like i've known him (or at least knew of him) my entire life. i wrote about him in my childhood journals, wrote wretched poetry in my highschool years yearning of an intellectual and physical counterpart, and here he is.

tomorrow, i become mrs. jodi robin root sassana. (shit ain't hyphenated, though, just keeping root as a middle name). we're going to celebrate with our friends and family, and then jet off to jamaiaca for a whole week. although i'll miss my babies, i'm pretty sure caroline/renee will take good care of miss mols and els in our absence.

here's to the ending of one chapter, and beginning to a new one - the start to my long overdue and much anticipated, happy ending.

i love you, vincent.

fall is my favorite.

while it seems impossible for me to evade stress longer than quarter hour intervals, i'm really fucking happy its finally autumn. i guess i never really realized that this is my favorite season. being a bratty spoiled lil piglet, i always presumed summer was the best - school was out, then it was tommy bartlett time, then it was suntanning on the rooftop, unemployed benders with the crew. . . but after this past summer, my energies of youthful regrets went ignored. instead i complained about the heat and cursed the upstairs neighbor with control of the central air thermostat. hid in my dungeon basement unit, only crawling out for the occassional free show or pitchfork. but now that it's autumn, man oh man.

something about the cool breeze at night. the smell of the rain. the chill up my spine in the morning when i finally crawl my lazy ass out of bed. not to mention that nothing makes me feel sexier or more confident than wearing a pair of comfortable skinny jeans, sneakers and a cozy zip up hoodie. for a while i tried to fight this boring ass girl-boy style, but now i relish in it. too bad i cant get hitched in my acid washed forever 21 jeans and my pixies hoodie. . . oh well, the pin-up bride motif i got rockin will have to do, i spose. . .

something about the season takes me back to being 14-15 in argyle. god, i actually kind of miss that place. i would love to go home for a 3 day weekend, but with all the upcoming events and life changes, don't think i can swing it. maybe in january. . . i miss kicking dirty ass moldy wet leaves in my cara beth burnside signature skater vans. drawstring brown baggy jeans from maurice's, and my red and black zip up flannel. blue lipstick. unplucked eyebrows. flat chest. infinity angst and burning scorn. writing desperate letters of desire and affection for an escape and a love in my 9th grade journal. the days when i swore that sublime, beastie boys and blink 182 all tied for best band ever award. (not drinking, ever). pretending to be a skateboarder. working nearly every single highschool football game concession stand to raise funds for whatever miscellaneous nerd club i was involved with happened to be sponsoring that week. going to the goetz theater in monroe. wal-mart.

it seems as if my life finally began in fall. in the year of 1998, was it? 1997? not sure. it was one of those, though. and then suddenly i blinked and all of highschool was ancient history. and then college. and now here i am in chicago, 5 years plus going strong. about to get married. working a big girl job. wondering what will come next. already got a new cat. (thank god). cats are awesome. ANIMALS RULE. i wish i could still pull off blue lipstick (or maybe begin to pull off, not sure i rocked it right the first time around). i wish my fashion sense still consisted of oversized bad alterna-band t-shirts ordered from music mail catalogues, vans sneakers, feather boas, super tight bra-less camisoles, plastic vests and baggy jeans. i was a fashionista.

and i didn't give a damn. i worked my little ass off bussing tables. writing poetry. yearning for more.

now i do give a damn. still working my (no longer) little ass off, but this time in politics. at least politics of the office sort. not really writing poetry. not really yearning for more. i mean, sure i want - but my wants have changed. instead of dreaming some big bold aspiration of moving across the world and becoming super famous and rubbing it in every asshole hater/hateress's faces - i now just want a kitty/boyfriend snuggle party. and maybe some bubblebaths every now and then. (and a new apartment!!!)

but anyway. fall is my favorite. i better enjoy it while it's here. i only have a month before it's time to hang up the rooty ways and settle on down for good. and then it's jamaica. who the hell wants to come back to chicago in november after a week at a tropical getaway honeymoon? not this girl.

man, i wish i had some apple cider and a good ass book and my dude to cuddle up to right now. oh well, this rain fragrant breeze and holey ass rainbow afghan and biting kitten are a second win, i spose.

done rambles. sleep now.

35 Days Until. . . .

these things dj at my wedding reception. if any ya'll heart me, YOU WILL MAKE THIS HAPPEN. 11/4/11, happy village. KITTIES ON DEXXX. they be playin me some hall & oates on da real.

introducing miss elliott root-sassana

reason number i-lost-count why i wanna (and will, in 55 days to be exact, at least according to our target wedding registry) marry mr. v. sassana - he asked if we could get a 2nd cat. while our initial plans and dreams of adopting a white tiny fluffball male kitten named lyle were diminished (he didn't exist), we did find a 2nd best option--a tiny, 10 month old grey tabby girl by some lame ass name of 'feist'. b/c she was like, feisty, or something. whatever. we adopted that kitten cuz she cuddled the shit outta us and was cute as hell. took her home, and she drools everywhere and refuses to leave the comforts of our bed or her grey kitty bed (that looks like her! ps - i know what ya'll are thinking, mols is mos def not feeling any sort of reverse favoritism, she too got an orange cat bed that looks like her from walgreens - i'm a very considerate cat lady like that).

anyway. this kat is super kewl. mols and elliott don't even h8 each other. (not like creepy cousin kronos). and she's our baby. so that's pretty kewl. getting married. adopting cats. contemplating futures. planning weddings/receptions in dive wicker park bars. life could be worse--(you could find a string in your hoagie).

CATSCATSCATS