Mr. Moses rocks!


I like CTOs like Dean Moses of who search Blogger to see what people are saying about their company. Here’s what Mr. Moses had to say about my post on

“Jessica, thanks for the most entertaining constructive criticism we’ve heard all year.

We get a lot of feedback that ‘blidget’ sounds like bludger, the ball Harry Potter uses in Quidditch matches.

I like your take on it better.

Dean Moses

I think has a future my friends!

Don’t call it a “blidget”

Free Image Hosting at
I like, a site for listing and making widgets. I even have one of my boyfriend’s blog on my page–see Pacific Pelican.

As a member marketer (one of my many roles at my job), I write most of the communication to members, including naming new features. I always try not to be too cutesy because I think it undermines the member. Also, if I am going to name something, I don’t want to feel like an idiot (if you’re a Simpsons fan, you’ll get it) when I say the term in public.

I feel like an idiot when using the word “blidget,”‘s name for a blog widget. A widget’s a widget. Let’s not get fancy just because we want to coin a new term. When my boyfriend used the term, I thought he sounded like a 14-year-old white boy in Cincinnati who’d smoked some weed and was being stupid with his friends: “Yo I got this blidget and I smoke weed with my cridget and my mom she’s a bidget.” You get my drift?

Please, just call it a widget.

P.S. widgetizing the web?! I hope you make it to Web 2.1, WidgetBox!

Brooklyn Industries


I just got my white Brooklyn Industries hoodie today! It’s on sale for $15 so go get one while they last.

I first found the store a few years back when my friend Les and I went to Brooklyn for the day. I adored the clothes in the shop, plus everyone working there was so nice and helpful. I am glad they have an online store now!

If you’re in the NYC area, go check ’em out.

I hope I’m not addicted to coffee…

coffee heart

I used to live in this typical San Francisco apartment–it had a long hallway with all the rooms off to the right–on Hayes and Lyon with two guys, Tom and Adam, who were in different punk rock bands. How I ended up there is a story for another time, but I remember one Saturday morning we were having a casual roommate meeting in the kitchen (our only common room as Adam’s room was the living room) because we all happened to be home at the same time.

One issue was Adam’s compost–we have a compost, I thought? Cool! Of course, I had no idea how to use it, but still, I liked the idea that my grungy rockers were eco-friendly. I think Adam also had a lot of organic, homemade food in jars in the fridge, but my memory fails me, so Adam, no offense.

Anyway, before the discussion really got going, Adam stopped us and put his hand to his head. I could see a bulging vein and hear the strain in his voice: “Before we do this, I really need coffee.” I thought he was trying to cop out of the meeting–and having had many a pointless “roommate meetings,” I couldn’t blame him, especially since the focus seemed to be on him.

So, I joked that we’d be done soon and let’s just get this over with. Big mistake. He flashed his eyes up at me and looked at me with a mix of pain and anger. “No, I NEED coffee!” And with that, he was up and out the door, probably going to our local shop, which has nice coffee and the best bagels, plus a really chill staff.

I looked at Tom in disbelief. “He’s addicted to coffee.” What? Now, I’ve heard of people who can’t “function” in the morning without their first cup, but is this what they meant? I was still in college at the time and hadn’t yet experience the 9 to 5 grind, so I thought I still had time to save myself from this horrible affliction.

I have started my mornings with a nice cup of coffee ever since I started my new job–at my old job, I would have it a few times a week thing, but Adam’s bulging vein would remind me to have tea or water once in a while so as not to get addicted.

But alas, the fog is hanging heavy in San Francisco this morning (I was up early to move the car), and I have just made a cup of Peet’s House Blend in the French Press with some soy milk and Splenda. It is SOOOOO good. I can see why people get addicted, but I hope I am not addicted to coffee.

P.S. Thanks to Webshots member dhwanisharshi for the awesome photo!

What should I blog about?

I started a blog before 2007–I made the media’s cutoff.

The person of the year is…you!

My secret affair with Nancy Pelosy.

More 38 Geary buses, please! (to the tune of “More Ovalatine, please!)

Drinking red wine that’s been open waaaaay too long.

Eating the orange slices that come with Thai food.

MyCokeRewards points–it’s a scam! You can only enter 9 codes at a time. 9? 9! 9?!?!

Eating the orange slices that come with your eggs–“[They’re] the best part of the meal…especially if they fuck up the eggs.”

Talking about restaurants with funny names in other parts of the country that you’ve never been to:

  • Bill Napps
  • Tim Hortons
  • Bob Evans

Why are they all named after bowling-league captians?

Why I can’t spell captain.

Captains I like:


Playing the Mc game with my boyfriend:

Stupid McStupidson over there…

Snoopy McDooopy is a real bonehead…

Snarly McSnarlerson needs to brush his teeth…

Watching Couplings on the BBC DVD and thinking Brits do have shoddy teeth.

British slang words!

Rebelling against spellcheck