Sometimes, I’m not the brightest of people.

On a whim, I called up Anna, and as always, I got her answering machine. I haven’t heard her voice in almost a year, I think. I’m not completely certain of that timeframe, but I believe it’s accurate. So I’m talking to her answering machine, and I say something like “I’m starting a new life in Vegas. I’m saying goodbye to a lot of things that I’ll miss. But I miss you the most – and I hope that we can be friends again. If you miss me at all, please email me, or call, or text me... If not, then I’ll try to leave you alone.”

Of course, being me, there was a lot more stammering and William Shatner like pauses, but that was the gist of it. And of course, she didn’t email me, or call, or text. Which means I have to try to leave her alone.

I rarely ever give up on anybody. Though passions may fade, or friendships grow distant, I still care very much about all my friends and lovers from the past. But that’s not normal, I think. It’s perhaps not healthy, either, since I feel a responsibility to all those I care about to try to make their lives as wonderful as mine has become. And I’m coming to grips with the fact that I can’t change anybody’s life. And I’m learning that for some people, a memory is all they want me to be.

Knowing it doesn’t make me any less sad about it, though. And I still wish I had the power to make people happier, to make their lives more meaningful, and to lift the obstacles out of their paths. And I mourn for those friends who have put me behind them. I am not grieved so much for their sakes, but for my own. My life was ever the richer when Anna was a part of it, and Andrea, and Heather, and Sarah, and Melody, and all the others that have disappeared along the way. But I am trying still to learn how to give up on them.

My life is in an interesting period of transition. I’m starting to let go of the thought of becoming famous – it seems ever less likely each year that goes by. I still have every intention of trying, but I spend less of my emotional energy in that direction. Ironically, this is happening while I am expanding my abilities musically, and my career is becoming increasingly more prosperous.

I am in Vegas, and the dueling pianists here are phenomenally good. And I’m good enough to be one of them (barely). I still have a lot of work I need to do on my show, but I’m not completely and totally out-classed (just mostly). Which is reassuring. The pay here is the best I’ve encountered, and the environment wonderful. All of the sudden, though, I’m a little tiny minnow in a huge, huge freakin’ pond.

So I have every intention of growing as fast as I can.

Last year around this time, I got an emotional charge out of walking up and down Bourbon St. in New Orleans, and realizing there weren’t a whole lot of musicians that I felt were significantly better than I was. I felt like maybe I was ready for the Big Time. Well, Las Vegas is certainly the Big Time, but walking up and down the strip, I haven’t heard a whole lot of musicians that weren’t better than me. The talent pool here is just that good. But if I can make it here, then...

The other option is playing on a cruise line. I’ve gotten an offer that is hard to turn down. So I may not. But either way, it’s looking like leaving New Orleans is going to be good for my career.

Still, I miss George and Amy a lot (fellow Pat O’s players). I miss Katie immensely, and I somehow feel in my gut that our lives are unlikely to be so close again. And there’s no denying that I had something magical in New Orleans... Living on Bourbon St., playing at the world’s most famous dueling pianos bar... It was special, and worthy of many fond remembrances.

I told Anna a little over a year ago that I was going to get in shape, and I did. I told her that I was going to take dancing lessons, and become a good dancer, and I did. I told her I was going to get my finances in better shape, and I did. I told her I was going to fix up a little apartment in the French Quarter with a courtyard, and I did. But I didn’t do these things only to impress her; they were the next step in becoming the man I want to be.

And now it’s time to set new goals, and I think I know what the next steps are. I’m going to become debt-free, and start by paying off my long delayed college loans. I’m going to continue my efforts to eat healthier, and exercise well. I’m going to learn to speak Spanish, because I think it would be highly useful. I’m going to get back into the martial arts, and possibly take up sword fighting. I’m going to continue my dancing lessons. I’m not bad, but I want to be able to take a girl Salsa dancing, and just impress the hell out of her.

These seem kind of like “New Year’s Resolutions,” which I’ve never been in the habit of making. But this is truly a new year for me. Not just an arbitrary date on a calendar, but a genuinely new beginning in my life.

The older I get, the more I cherish life, and fun, and friendship, and love. No, I don’t anticipate falling in love again. But if I do, it will have to be an incredible, incredible girl to top the ones I’ve fallen for before. So I’m going to try to become the type of man that is worthy of such a girl. If she never appears, then I’m still a better man for it.

Life seems so short, and so fragile. I want to spend every second of it growing, and becoming a better person, and enjoying each breath. That seems the only decent way to repay God for the wonderful gift of life itself. I don’t ever want to have wasted it.

You only get one shot at life, and I’m going to give it everything I have.

Talk to you later,
Jess

Hey everybody! Can't write long - I'm in the airport at a layover in Denver, flying to St. Louis to see my cousin Ben get married (traitor to the Bachelor Cause!).

I can't access my blog or jessmills.com accounts at the place where I'm staying. The lady I'm staying with has internet, but something about her settings makes it to where I can only access yahoo, and nothing else.

Vegas is going exceedingly well. The pianists here are FREAKIN' INCREDIBLE. They're just awesome, and everything I did in New Orleans that made me cool - they all do, and do better.

But I managed to find plenty of work, and it looks like this is definitely going to be my new home.

I was figuring it out, and unless I was either the winner or runner-up of American Idol, I'm doing better than if I'd made it onto the show. As I've continually noticed, my life never goes where I plan it, but it always goes better than I could have dreamed.

By the way, if you've never been here, Las Vegas ROCKS.

Well, I'll talk to you all soon,
Jess

Well, here it is, Monday morning.

Colorado is as beautiful as they claim. The air is so fresh that I keep going outside just to smell it. The sky is beautiful, and you can see the stars at night.

The roads suck. Well, not exactly suck; they're well constructed. They're just insane, have virtually no signs, and it's hard to get to one place from another. And the maps are all really poor. So I've started adding a half-hour to my transit time for being lost. Which gives me more of a chance to see lovely Denver, and it is really lovely.

I went to see my brother and his family last night. It was great. Amy (his wife) has apparently been either exercising a lot, eating a very healthy diet, or both - she's looking great. David is (as usual) completely on top of his game - he's up for promotion to Major, is working on a PhD, and his cadets (from all accounts, not just his) love his classes. His kids are just fantastic. Energetic, enthusiastic, but well behaved. Joe (around three years old) is obsessed with "The Incredibles." At any moment, he'll look at you and proudly proclaim "I Dash!" to which you must of course confirm that yes, he is indeed Dash. His younger brother Matthew is very friendly, and thought I was the greatest thing since... Okay, he probably doesn't have any previous great things to compare me to, except milk, nipples, and a good diaper filling. But I think I'm up there.

We went out to eat, and were able to do so with the whole entourage. It was great.

It made me realize both how much I'd love to have a family, and how unlikely it is that I will.

I'm starting to get really excited about Vegas. I've never been there, so all I have is imagination. But I've got so many ideas about ways to have a great life there. One I'm thinking about is - if I play in a Casino/Hotel, could I negotiate a room as part of my contract? It would mean I'd have to go super-simplistic on the possessions, but I can handle that! All I really want is a keyboard, computer, bed, bookshelf, and a wet bar. That'd be high living for me. And at this point, everything I own fits in a suitcase.

Of course, that's just a thought.

My brother and me were having a semi-philosophical discussion about the nature of ownership. We agreed that people in general (and sometimes including us) just have too much stuff. You spend money buying it. You spend money maintaining it. You spend money upgrading it, or getting a better one, or more of whatever it is. And then you spend all your time working to make all this money, so you don't ever have time to enjoy it, or even use it as much as you thought you would.

So I'm going to try to take this opportunity to really simplify my life. If I get my stuff back, and it's okay, then GREAT. But if not, I'm not going to replace most of it. The things I'll use every day; those I'll get. The rest I'll learn to do without.

People kept expecting me to get excited about the American Idol auditions, but it just didn't excite me. It didn't seem like a real chance, just a fluke that happened to one out of about 5,000 people (just to get on the show, that is) that tries. I prefer to base my life and my hopes on things I can actually influence, where I'll be judged on talent and skill. And that's what I'm hoping to find in Vegas. I've proven that I can fill a room and rock the crowd in San Antonio, and Austin, and New Orleans. I've proven everybody wrong who said I wasn't cut out for this biz, to where now people say "You have such a natural gift for it" - which is about the highest compliment (if a completely mistaken one) that I can be paid.

Now, can I do it in the big-time? I'm about to find out, and I'm really excited.

Talk to you all soon,
Jess

Well, I'm officially NOT the next American Idol.

Everybody's trying to be consoling, but they don't realize I didn't have any hopes pinned on it.

I waited for hours in the sun, and finally got my thirty seconds of audition. I sang the hell out of my song, and was quite pleased. I didn't make it, obviously, but that's okay. I heard some UNBELIEVABLY good voices that didn't make it. And I heard some really crappy ones that did, and a lot of mediocre ones. It just reaffirmed my opinion that voice is the least important thing on AI.

I'm headed to Vegas on Wednesday - a really nice lady is letting me stay with her while I look for work. As I mentioned previously, Hurricane Katrina is bringing out some incredible generosity that simply boggles my mind...

Well, I must run. I'm visiting with my brother (Dave, AKA Jess).

Talk to you all soon,
Jesss

Hey there - waited in line today at the American Idol auditions. Woo-hoo! Okay, not so much woo. Or hoo, for that matter. More like a big yawn, as I had to get up at 4:30 to get there on time.

The rules said that under no circumstance would anybody be allowed to line up before 6:00 am. Well, we got there at about 5:45, and there were at least a thousand people already in line, if not more.

So much for following the rules.

But I got my nifty wristband, and my ticket for a seat in the auditorium. And I also got a firsthand look at just how many people are doing this thing. It's got to be incredible luck, in addition to everything else. I've never been surrounded by so many pretty people all at once - so even with my postulate concerning the "look" of it, I still have no idea what they'll do to narrow the competition.

But I'm sure I'll find out tomorrow.

I'm hoping to get past the first round. That's as far as my hopes go. But I'm not counting on it.

Talk to you all soon, with more details. Or to be more precise, with some details.

Jess

Well, I'm about finished with my time in Nacogdoches (affectionately known here as "Nac-o-nowhere").

It's been great hanging with my friend Herb (www.herbertmidgley.com), and he's been unbelievably helpful, as well as encouraging and even inspirational (and a few other adjectives). Due to his help, I went ahead and recorded a rough version of a song I wrote a month or two ago, called "One Shot at Life."

It was inspired by a friend of mine who seemed to live life to its fullest, until she suddenly changed all of her dreams and ambitions, and settled down with a rich doctor. Not that there's anything wrong with being married to a rich doctor; I may even do that someday. It's just that she gave up all her plans and everything she'd told me she wanted out of life.

Of course, in the process of writing the song, that went from being the focus of it to being a side-story. I can't be held responsible for what happens when I try to write songs, can I?

Anyway, Herb recorded a video of me playing and singing it in the Recital Hall of SFA, and put the video on the web. You can find it at www.jessmills.com/Movies/oneshotatlife.mov, or www.jessmills.com/Movies/oneshotatlife2.mov - the first is faster, the second is better quality.

It's very much a ROUGH draft. The vocals are a first take (you know how that usually turns out). I'm still not completely happy with all the lyrics. And it's just currently piano, drums, bass, and fake strings. So a few months from now, I should have a polished version of it. But hey, it's something, right?

Other than that, I'm not doing too much.

I'm still just in awe of how willing everybody is to help me out. I'm trying really hard not to be a burden on anyone, but my sister and parents have sent massive amounts of help my way. My other sister and my brother have offered help. The Parrs have just put me up without complaint for two weeks. Almost everybody I know has offered to let me sleep on his or her couch until I get settled. One professor offered to buy me a new wardrobe. Strangers buy my drinks when I go to the bars (which close at FREAKIN' MIDNIGHT here!).

I'm pretty laid back and optomistic about life, but I tend to be very cynical and disbelieving when it comes to other people. But this is truly proving me wrong - it's bringing out all of the best traits of humanity. It's a wonderful, amazing thing to witness. I just wish I could be on the giving end of things, rather than the receiving.

Well, I'll let you all know what happens with American Idol (nothing, I'm sure), and Vegas (a few STDs, probably).

Take care, and I'll talk to you all soon,
Jess

Not a whole lot of new stuff to report. Still living on Dr. Parr's couch. People are still offering incredible amounts of generosity. So far I haven't had to accept that much help, but it may change. Still flying out to American Idol auditions in a week. Should be most amusing. And after that I'm flying to Vegas to try to get a job.

My cousin is getting married in a couple of weeks - I really, really, really want to go, but I'm not sure if I can. You know, Katrina just paid no attention to my schedule. Most inconvenient.

The weird thing is that people seem to be waiting for me to break down. Maybe I should, but it doesn't seem that bad to me. I'm alive, and so is everybody I love. I'm completely healthy, and have possibilities for employment. The rest just doesn't seem like a tragedy, just a minor annoyance.

Please keep in mind; I'm not speaking for everybody who went through it, just myself. Some people are facing incredible tragedy.

And life still seems wonderful. I'm practicing Beethoven for hours every day on Dr. Parr's Steinway, and falling in love with music all over again as a result. I'd forgotten how wonderful and rich a piano could sound. It's almost better than sex. Now if only I could combine the two somehow...

I saw a game show on one of the Spanish channels, and though I have no idea why, there was a guy dressed like an evil power ranger that would do a funky dance whenever a contestant got a right answer (when they got it wrong, their parents - locking in a glass jar - would have water poured higher and higher around them). I had no idea what the show was, or what it's point was. But I couldn't help but laugh.

My family and friends have been so incredibly supportive. One of my former professors tried to buy me a new wardrobe, 'cause he felt like he should help! I couldn't take him up on it, but it was so sweet.

Anna emailed me for the first time since my birthday. I wrote her back a snarky note, wondering why it took a natural disaster to hear from her. On the one hand, it was quite immature. On the other, it felt pretty good. So she may not ever write me again - at this point, it's kinda hard to tell the difference.

So anyway, all of you please keep emailing me, if you don't mind - it's great to know you care! I can't answer all of them (I got 42 today, and I only get to be on the internet for about 30 minutes every other day), but I still like to read them!

talk to you later,
Jess

Hey there to everybody -

My apologies to all that I've talked to in the last couple of days... I wasn't exactly depressed, I just wanted to be left alone while I figured everything out.

Having said that, it's amazing how many have called. I had no idea that many people cared about me. Being all emotional, it gave me the sniffles thinking about it. I know, it makes no sense that I wanted to be left alone, but I'm glad they all called. Oh well, it's a time of crisis; I'm allowed to be inconsistent.

For those who don't know, I lost everything. My car, my clothes, my job, my apartment... If there's anything salvagable, I won't even know for a few months, since they're not letting anyone in for (last I heard) 16 weeks.

Mainly, I'll miss my job. How I loved that job.

The rest, though... It's just stuff. And I'm realizing just how unimportant stuff is. I have my family, and they're so wonderful. And I have all my friends (that called even though I was rather surly). I have people that care about me, and people I care about. So the stuff is just stuff.

On the plus side, I'm living on Dr. Parr's couch at the moment, and he has a Steinway that I've been playing about eight hours a day, and I'm in love again. I forgot how wonderful a piano can sound, and there's nothing I can feel that the piano can't make better. I love music.

I'll talk to you all soon,

Jess

Hey there, everybody!

I'm alive, and well, and in Nacogdoches of all places. That's Nacogdoches, TX, if you have no idea what I'm talking about.

I'm hoping that I'm not homeless, but I won't know for certain for awhile... I'm hoping the same for Katie.

Katie and I decided to carpool, which is of course why I'm in Nac - I'm staying with Dr. Parr (her dad). I've been wandering around the SFA campus, feeling extremely old.

I may not be at a computer again for awhile - but thanks for all your emails... And I couldn't believe the calls - almost every single person in my cell phone phonebook called. Thanks. And this time, your concern was not only appreciated, but it was also matched by my own. This was a scary one, and I'm glad that we got enough warning to get the hell out of Dodge.

Take care, all, and as soon as I can, I'll be back online. I'm just hoping it will be from home, and not from a shelter!

Thanks again,
Jess

So, I'm on the schedule to work at 7:00 tonight, and 8:00 tomorrow night.

I was feeling unexpectedly tired, so I crawled into bed at 5:00 am.

Woke up, looked at the clock, and it said 7:24. I had no recollection of when I'd gone to bed, all I knew is that it was monday. I panic; I've never been late to work here. And I've never been 24 minutes late to work ANYWHERE. In showbiz, that's usually an automatic firing.

So, in full panic mode, I'm out the door with my bag, fully dressed at 7:27. That's when I realize; it's 7:27 am, not pm.

Can you say "dumbass"?

In other news, I now have my tickets, car reservation, and hotel reservation for my American Idol audition. It's a whole lotta money for nothing, but hey, it's always worth a shot. At this point, I'm still trying to find several different songs that are right for my voice. I don't think they'll let me audition with "The Itsy Bitsy Spider," though. Or if I do, I doubt I'll get very far at all.

Of course, if it wasn't my only year to try to audition, I'd probably do it anyway, just to see the judges faces...

Well, I'm going to try to go back to bed. Good morning, everybody!

Jess

Tonight I was missing my South Texas roots, so I made some enchiladas and spanish rice. Well, the rice I didn't really cook - I just opened up a box of "Goya Spanish Rice" and poured it in boiling water, with a little onion, pepper, and cilantro added. So I more heated it than made it. But that's beside the point.

After I was through eating, I went online to read the news. I'm a news junkie. And there was an article about Texas now being a "Majority Minority" state.

Well, first off - the U.S. of A. is going to be a "Majority Minority" country in a few years. I'm wondering - can I get minority protection then?

In some ways, the whole issue seems idiotic to me. Why does it matter? It should be about equality and fairness for everybody. What does it matter whether you're minority, or majority, or white, or black, or hispanic, or Asian-American, or Scandinavian-American, or Irish-American, or Jamaican-American, or Asian-Pacific-Islander American, or whatever? Legally speaking, I think we should all be considered American, and let the issue die there. Let culture and heritage stand on their own, with no legal prejudice in any direction.

On the other hand, I have always found Latina and Asian girls really hot.

So the hispanic population is booming. Why is this a surprise? It's a culture that celebrates large families. That's how we Irish got to be a majority in the US - we used to keep on popping out kid after kid!

It's not so common now, since we've been taught by society to limit the number of children so we can buy them more education, fancier clothes, lots and lots of electronic junk...

As I get older, it seems less and less likely I'll have a family (it would be helpful to at least get a girlfriend first, and I'm having no luck with that!), and if I do, it will probably be a small one. Unless of course, I've got dozens of illegimate kids running around out there. If so, good luck! Look me up someday, and wonder how you got such a deadbeat dad!

But growing up, I remember being the youngest of five. And yeah, it was tough. And yeah, our house was way too small (seven people in less space than my current apartment... Yikes!). And we wore crappy worn-out hand-me-downs (which were REALLY worn out by the time I got to wear them).

But still, I remember the love I got from my brothers and sisters. I remember thinking that my older brother David knew everything, and was the smartest person ever (okay, so I still think that, and he continues to prove me right). I remember my sister trying desperately to make me less of a nerd (it finally kinda worked, Amy! I mean Jes!). It's no secret I hated my childhood, and have very few good memories of it. But the ones I have are all of the love and support I got from my family. Well, that, and the first time I saw a naked woman. Which, now that I think about it, was on a video my sister had. Damn, I love my family!

Small families have a lot of advantages, But sometimes, I think the mainstream culture has forgotten the beauty of large families. And if it takes another culture to come in and remind us - so much the better!

Besides, though I do love Oriental food, and Italian food, is there anything better tasting than good mexican food?

Talk to you all later,
Jester

Anybody who knows me knows my Joss Whedon obsession. I have the complete collection of Angel, Buffy, and Firefly on DVD. I can't wait to see "Serenity," and I'm really excited (I never thought I'd say THIS) about the possibilities for "Wonder Woman."

There are certain hallmarks to his style that I love; the incredibly clever dialogue. The mix of genres, to where you're not sure if you're watching comedy, horror, sci-fi, drama, romance... The fact that sometimes your favorite characters get killed off when doing something dangerous, so you never feel completely secure about what's going to happen. For that matter, the complete disregard for where plots are SUPPOSED to go, in favor of where Joss thinks they SHOULD go. I even love the flaws in the characters. Buffy was an arrogant, lying girl, who wasn't always that bright. Willow had confidence and self-esteem issues that weren't solved in thirty minutes and a pep talk. Angel was way too depressed. And I think the doctor on "Firefly" was equally attracted to his sister and to Jayne (Adam Baldwin's character).

Okay, now that I think about it, the last one is just really ooky.

But anyway, I was watching an episode of "Firefly" a few minutes ago, and I realized what I loved the best about Joss Whedon. His characters come together to form a dysfunctional, messed-up family unit that is both utterly believable and wholly endearing.

And it makes me realize how much I miss my family.

I do have the coolest family of anyone I know. We've all gone in such disparate directions, but all pursued our dreams. And my siblings and I have one other thing in common; at one time or another, we've all been Jess.

Okay, you're wondering what the hell I'm talking about. It's not the crack, I tell you. I've got that under control, and I can quit any time I want.

First there was my oldest brother, Michael Jess. He got the name fair and square. And then I was named Jess Tandy, so I got it fair and square, too.

Then a few years ago, my brother got bored with being named "David." But while he wanted to change his name, he wanted to have something familiar. So he called me up and asked how I felt. I loved the concept. Having a brother with the same name as me - how awesome is that? Besides, he's the eccentric genius of the family, he's allowed such things.

Sadly, he ended up changing it back about a year ago. I mourned. I think his wife still calls him "Jess" though - that's what he was named when they met.

So then my sister Amy called me a few weeks (months?) ago, and asked how I felt. Again, loving the concept here. So she legally changed her name to Jes Mills. In full, it's either Jes Amy Elizabeth Mills, or Jes Elizabeth Amy Mills. I can't remember. (Elizabeth was my grandmother's name, and we both miss her immensely)

She's the one who just graduated college (Jes, not my dead grandmother). She just started working in the publishing industry, and just got a divorce, and in general, is just starting a completely different chapter in her life. And she wanted to start it with a new name. I think she picked a great one.

Now we've just got to talk my sister Tammy into thinking about her name...

I love my family, and when I become a millionaire, I'm building a giant mansion where we can all live close together. With our own wing each, so we don't have to live THAT close together.

Talk atcha later,
Jester

I have a T-Shirt that says "Never Underestimate the Power of Stupid People in Large Groups."

In a way, I find stupidity amusing - it's one of the reasons I love my job. Drunk people get really stupid, and it's an endless source of fun for me to watch and be amazed by.

On the other hand, sober stupidity is less fun.

We live in a democracy (kinda - technically, it's a republic; a representative democracy, and even that's somewhat questionable these days). Which means if the masses are stupid, they put stupid people in power. Not that our choices have been all that great the last few years; Gore, Kerry, Bush... I wouldn't really vote for any of these guys for President of the Bingo Club, much less of the United States (is there a President of the Bingo Club? I need to look into that).

In fact, I didn't vote for any of them. I vote Libertarian, which means I will never, ever see anybody I vote for get into office. But at least I vote for what I believe, not "the lesser of two evils," which I think means you need to find another choice.

However, the majority of the United States put Bush into office. And every time I think I can like him less, I find myself to be mistaken. I've seen bumper stickers that say "He's not MY president," but that's bullshit. I'm American, and I'm proud to be so, even when we're doing something really, really stupid. So he's my president. And he's a moron.

Now he's pushing for "Intelligent Design" to be taught in the classrooms. Bad enough that "Abstinence Only" education has made strides; we all know that teenagers only want to have sex if they're well-educated about it. Keep 'em ignorant, and there won't be ANY premarital sex! And we'll win this War On Drugs any day now, too.

But "Intelligent Design" is worse - it's faith masquerading as science. It's completely lacking in objectivity and rational thought. It's taking a foregone conclusion, and altering the facts (and ignoring others) to achieve that conclusion. It's the opposite of science. It's the opposite of logical and critical thinking, and it's exactly what we SHOULDN'T be teaching in schools.

If your faith requires you to lie to yourself and your children, to ignore what truth is, you need to find another faith. The God I believe in said "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free."

I don't need to believe that Noah put 5,000 species of mammal onto a boat to believe that God saves us. I don't need to believe that you have to pluck out your eye and cut off your hand if you need to stop sinning. There are stories in the Bible meant to prove a point. And if you take them and try to force reality around them, you're in for a world of confusion, and ultimately, deception. And I can't handle a religion that seeks truth through deceiving yourself. That's not the God I believe in.

For more info on the whole Bush and "Intelligent Design" topic, visit
http://pharyngula.org/index/weblog/comments/bush_endorses_intelligent_design_creationism/

It's much like Astrology. Everybody down here believes in and swears by Astrology. I've already offended one friend by saying in my blog I don't believe in it. It's hard not to email Phil Plait's complete debunking of it to everybody I've met since moving here
( http://www.badastronomy.com/bad/misc/astrology.html )
It's hard not to challenge them to come up with one credible shred of evidence for it, or to give them a complete description of one of my siblings, down to every personality trait, and tell them to come up with his or her sign. It should be obvious, right?

But critical thinking is not taught anywhere. I don't know whether that's new, or it's always been this bad. I'm not old enough to know. I know it seems as bad with the people in their 50s as it does with the people in their 20s. Everybody seems to go for the easy answer. His/her/my flaws are all based on my Astrological Sign. I can't help it.

Bullshit. My flaws are mine. Not my sign's. Not my parents'. Not my upbringing's.

Your faults are yours. You have no excuses, and neither do I.

Unless you're drunk. In which case, hey, I understand. It's how I make my living, and how I get most of my fun.

But if you're sober; I challenge you to do what I've been struggling all my life to do (and often failing) - think about it. Whatever it is. Don't go with the easy answer. Really, really, really think about it.

I'm going to go think about lunch now.

Jester

So, I walk into Pat O'Brien's for my last set last night. They announced my name, and that I was coming back onto the stage - and I got a standing ovation.

It was both exhilarating and terrifying - it definitely made me feel like I'm better than I've ever been before. On the other hand, what if this is it? As good as it gets? I'm at the top, and I'll never go farther?

American Idol auditions are coming up, and I'm trying out this year. Like everybody else, I have the dream of making it onto the television. But I know I have no chance. My voice, although far better than it's ever been, is just mediocre. My stage presence, which is the hallmark of my show, is based on the piano. My experience working a crowd, at which I've become exceedingly good, is based on them being drunk. My repertoire of songs - not needed.

So I'm going to audition, and get turned down, and figure out where to go with my career from there.

But what a great training ground and career move the piano bar has been! I've learned more about music and showmanship in the last three years than I did in the 25 years of my life before that. Of course, that's not saying too much.

Katie is now in her own place, and though I miss her company, it's nice to be able to walk around my house naked when I want. Or to bring home dates and not say "No, Katie's not my girlfriend. No, I'm serious. Where are you going? Come back!"

But getting that apartment finished for her has dominated my life for the last few months. Hence the lack of Blog posting. Also a lack of songwriting, piano practicing, and new-songs-for-work learning. But life is settling back into its routines, and that's good.

Now if I can just get back to work on my CDs!

Jess

My communication skills are getting worse, apparently. I'm still having people ask me why their pictures aren't up in my "friends" page, but only one person has sent me her photo since the last time I ranted about this.

Aarrggghhh!!!! I can't put up photos I don't have! And I mainly associate with highly intelligent people, too!

Okay, that's enough exclamation points for one paragraph.

I've been hearing that RobThomas song "Lonely No More" a lot, and there's one section that I just couldn't believe the lyrics. It's all cheesy pop/rock music and words, but right after he says
"Now it's hard for me when my heart's still on the mend
Open up to me..."

And all the music cuts out, and clear as day, I'd swear he said "And I could do your girlfriends."

Which, hey, I can understand the sentiment, but I couldn't believe it was in the song. But no matter how many times I listened to it, I couldn't hear anything else.

But then Katie just had to ruin it for me. She informed me that it's "Like you do your girlfriends."

I liked my version better. And it's still what I hear.

Speaking of Katie, she's the best roommate ever. If any of you all are looking for a roommate, I suggest finding one like her. The only possible improvement would be if I could hypnotize her and convince her she's a nymphomaniac that really wants only Jess Mills.

Can't have everything, though, you know? Well, not until I take over the world.

My CDs have started selling again. I guess I'm getting a good enough name at Pat O's that people are getting interested. But it's scary, though. I don't think "Right Out of the Blue" is a good representation of who I am, and what I can do now. But that's just incentive to get back to hardcore working on my next CD.

And Jonathan sent me the refined product of the songs we did last summer. The man is a freakin' GENIUS. I am so giving him as much credit as I can on the CD.

One year of living in New Orleans, and I'm still not a vampire. Crap. But I do completely live the hours of one, though.

Well, it's almost dawn, so I'll crawl back into my coffin. Vote early, vote often!

Jess

Well, I've been in a weird mood today... I've been pondering all my failed relationships, yet though I'm somewhat nostalgic, I'm not depressed.

I don't hate any of my exes. I'm not mad at any of them. And in virtually every case (there are an exception or two), I know exactly why we're not together. And it's usually a good thing. For one thing, few of the girls I've been with would really able to handle my current lifestyle. And I'm capable of taking chances with my career that I simply couldn't, otherwise.

But still, I miss hearing Andrea sing. I miss getting into philosophical debates with Jolie, and losing. Damn, that girl is smart. I miss Sarah's good heart. I miss the other Sarah's wit, and mastery of everthing that I prided myself on... I miss most everything about Anna, during the time when I was important to her.

I think of them, and get warm fuzzies. I wish I could have them back, if just for a little while. But life is not about backwards motion. No matter how wonderful something is, you can never return to it. And if you can accept that, the future is a better place. There's always something in the horizon that is better than what is left in your wake. All those girls I just mentioned are married now. It would be arrogant to think I could possibly make them happier than their husbands do. And I've never been accused of arrogance. Or sarcasm.

I really want this to be the year I get my career going. And to do so, I can't afford to be worried about the toll it will take on a relationship. Luckily, there aren't exactly any girls lining up to try to change my mind. Although, if there are any girls reading this that might want to try - here's a hint; it's all about plentiful sex. Lots and lots of it. Possibly with some of your female friends involved.

Okay, it was worth a shot.

Some of my exes, I remain very close friends with. I can't imagine not being close to Lynnette, for instance. It would be weird to go too long without touching base with her. I wish that were the case in all of them. But as a good friend of mine told me tonight, "part of the human condition is that it is sometimes necessary to shut someone out to get over them. They leave you in their wake, or you leave them in yours... It's part of being human."

I want to be a superhero. I want to save the world. Unfortunately, my superpower is the ability to play "Brown-Eyed Girl" and "Margaritaville." There's really not an arch-nemesis for that. Maybe the sound system at "Pat O'Brien's" - if so, I'm so getting my ass kicked on a regular basis. Besides, how do you draw a comic book around that plot?

But I'm so happy with my life that I want to fix all the problems in my friend's lives. And I can't do that. It's very hard to accept that I can't make everybody happy. I can't save the world for anybody but myself. I'm my own superman, and my own kryptonite. And we're all that way, when it comes down to it.

And to all you superman fanatics out there - I know what green kryptonite does. I know what red kryptonite does. But what does the gold kryptonite do? I always forget. And doesn't "Kryptonite" by "3 Doors Down" have great drumwork?

Well, to all the people left in my wake, and in whose wake I am drifting. I miss you guys. I hope our paths cross again, and if not, I hope your path has a lot of happiness, and very little kryptonite.

Jester

Well, I may have met my match.

Not in a love interest kind of way, just in case you're thinking that.

I was riding in the car with Katie, and though she is FAR more aggressive a driver than me, she's also at least as aware of everything and everyone on the road as I am... Usually I'm biting my tongue trying not to point out all the things I see. She's reacting to them faster than I could say anything, even if I wanted to. So then, we get to our destination, and she parallel parks her car with all the ease and accuracy I use.

But to top it off, she was singing in the car, and she's a lot better singer than I am, both lead and harmony.

Crap. I am going to have to kill her.

Anyway, I'll kill her later, because she's also a much better cook than I am, and has been cooking incredible meals for me the last few days. On my birthday, she made "Blackened Shrimp Fajitas" for me. Then I went over to George's, where he had made some sort of Curry sauce over rice, and Amy had made me a birthday cake.

I got cards from Kristen, George, Amy, and Vicki (all co-workers). Everybody from my family called, except my sister Tammy, who probably doesn't have my phone number. But she mailed me a card with a very sweet message. I heard from a couple of college friends, as well.

And then I got to go to work, which I love. And I realized what a damn lucky guy I am. Best. Birthday. Ever.

My step-dad Robbie decided, in lieu of a regular present, to spend a week of his vacation doing construction work and renovations on my apartment. Talk about a present! I love my family. I love my job. I love my friends. In fact, I love my life, and I'm not even drunk.

The former "Love of My Life" did indeed forget my birthday. She either remembered the next day, or read my blog. So she emailed me saying I probably hated her for missing my birthday, which I found rather amusing. After all the shit she put me through, a missed birthday is nothing. I only mentioned it before because she'd told me last year it was easy to remember, and she'd never forget it. Of course, at this time last year, there were a lot of "never"s and "always" that didn't quite make it to now. Not that I'm bitter.

Christine did not forget, though... She called, wished me a Happy Birthday. Is having a rough time, but she just got her first modeling gig at her new place, so things are starting to look up. Now if her life would just settle down long enough for her to be able to spend a day or two in New Orleans...

My dance teacher has quit teaching. I'm rather bummed about that. It's the one downside to my life right now. There are other teachers there, but none of them are as analytically minded, and capable of explaining the mechanics of everything as my last teacher. I just hope Katie gets really good really quickly, so I can take from her. But I'll still miss Ashley like hell.

I got a new refrigerator. The one I had could hold about two days worth of food, at best. And I couldn't keep all my liquor as cold as I like. The new one is HUGE. I spent two hundred dollars on food at Wal-Mart after I got it, and I didn't even fill it up. Some of that may be because I ate a lot of it as I was putting it up, but still... It's AWESOME. And very cold.

Well, on that note, I'm going to go make some more food. I'm hungry. Just want to say it again:

Best.
Birthday.
Ever.

Jester

So, here it is.

28.

27 is gone, never to return. I'm not just in my late 20s - I'm in my very late 20s.

On the one hand, I'm starting to accept that I'm no longer a teenager. I feel more confident about myself than I ever did in my teens, and I feel more in control of myself and my environment.

But late, late 20s? When the hell did that happen?

I wonder - is there a point where I'll actually feel like an adult? 'Cause I really don't, right now.

27 was by far and away the best year of my life, and not just because it's 3 to the 3rd power... I've been living in New Orleans for one year now. When I moved here, I had no idea what a change to my life it would be.

I'm accepted here in a way that I never was, and never could be in Texas. It's very, very rare that people ask me if I'm gay. And if they do, they seem to accept that I'm not. Now, it's much more common for them to assume I'm arrogant. And of the two, I much, much, much prefer to be assumed arrogant.

I'm considered attractive to women now. All my life, I've been the guy who watches all the other guys get dates. I've been the "friend" who listens as the girls bitch about their asshole boyfriends, and then tell me how they need a guy like me (right before they return to their asshole boyfriends). I never got the chance to be the asshole boyfriend. I think I could've done it well, but that's another matter. Now, I can get a date anytime I want one. Admittedly, it's with tourists, so there's no chance for a relationship.

But there's a certain appeal to that, as well.

During my 27th year, I got to be in love with a girl I thought was in love with me. I got shot down, of course. This is the life of Jess Mills, after all. But still, to have had it for a little while was a gift that I had given up on long before. Of course, I've gone from being "the most important man in her life" to an occasional "how are you," and I'll give you 20 to 1 odds she's forgotten my birthday. But still, as cynical as I sound about it, I'm okay with it. The fact that it didn't work out leaves me with my freedom, which I cherish more and more every day.

This is the year I became a good singer. I'm not a great singer. But people that I really respect and admire respect me as a vocalist now. That's a change. I'm mostly a good entertainer - I put on a great show. I think of myself as a great pianist (though George Rossi, my co-worker, is a better pianist than me). But a good singer? That's new. I always put up a front of being able to sing, and I always thought that I was adequate. But I wasn't, and I sucked, and deep down, I knew it. I'm still nothing special - but I'm good. And for now, I'm cool with that. If I'm no better when I hit thirty, I'm going to be pissed.

This is the year my sister graduated college. Talk about proud - nobody from my family was expected to go to college, except possibly my brother. Well, he did, and then I did, and then Amy did... And we all did well, in different ways. David was commencement speaker at his graduation, was a legend in his math department, went on to a full ride at the Air Force Institute of Technology, where he got his Master's degree on a thesis that I can't even spell. I did pretty well in college - I didn't flunk out, and I didn't burn out. Amy got a 4.0 - which is even MORE incredible when you consider she's raising four kids, and works full-time. And she graduated during my 27th year.

This is the year that I paid off my car, and most of my credit cards. I'm behind - I was supposed to be mostly out of debt by now. But I'm paying it off rapidly, and look forward to the day when I owe no money to anybody. That way I can rack up some more!

This is the year I became the life of the party. You come to see me at Pat O'Brien's, and I can almost guarantee that you're going to have a great time. I'm not up there in a supporting role anymore. I'm not hoping for a good crowd. I make it happen. And what a privileged position that is!

This is the year I learned to let go. When I'm frustrated, but can't change things, I can let it go now. When I'm mad, but can't express it in a constructive way, I can just let it go. When I want something (or occasionally someone), but I realize that I just can't have it, I can let it go. I let go of so many things to come here, and once I was here, I had to keep letting go of things. And I've learned that it's not bad to do that. That holding on to things can be unhealthy at times.

So now, whether I wanted to or not, I've got to let go of 27.

I'm not ready for my 30s. The 20s have been so good to me. But this was such an incredible year that I can't help but be hopeful about 28. If it's half as good as 27, I'm in for a helluva ride.

Happy Birthday to me!
Jester

P.S. No, I have no idea why I'm awake at 9:00 in the morning.

Well, I'm back from Texas.

Some of the things that I missed, man, I understand why I missed them. Texas skies at night are still the most beautiful. The Texas highways are wonders of modern engineering. I could talk to strangers on the street without them asking me for spare change. You still see guys in cowboy hats tipping their hats to girls as they walk by.

And the mexican food. The most divine culinary creation ever. Oh, do I miss that. I'm sure anybody who had to ride in the car with me wasn't as enthused, but...

They say you can never go home again. So in a way, I was expecting a huge change when I went back. Well, San Antonio hadn't changed. The grass was still brown. North Star Mall was still overcrowded. Pat O'Brien's San Antonio was still fun. The Blanco Cafe is still incredible.

Pleasanton? Well, the run-down Plestex 3 Theatre that I used to run is now the rather posh Plestex 4 Theatre, with great parking, new concession stands, a new Box Office, new bathrooms... It looks great. It doesn't feel quite like the place that consumed 9 years of my life. Still, I guess it's rather telling that I stopped by there before I did anything else. And other than that, Pleasanton is exactly the same as when I left.

My family is still much the same. My sister Amy still looks like a teenager. She's now a College Graduate (4.0, baby! You ROCK, Ames!), but she's the same bubbly girl that I've always looked up to. My brother David is now a father of two, but he was always the mature adult among us, anyway. My Dad is starting to look a little older, but he's also gotten really fit. So now he's got the suave older man thing going. Mom and Robbie look the same. June Hurley is still obsessed with Clay Aiken. Yeah, the family is changing, but they're still the same. My friends Caleb, Maggie, and Jacob haven't changed (though Maggie insists she's gotten fatter. Women).

So was it home? Yes, and no. I realized that it hadn't been completely home for a long time. I'd grown beyond Pleasanton years before, and I think everybody but me knew it. Not that it's hard to grow beyond Pleasanton, but still...

When I got back, I wondered, is New Orleans home now? Not Texas? And I had one of those moments where you realize something about yourself that is maybe obvious to everybody else, but not to you. I am never at home, and I am always at home, because for me, home is a state of mind, not a location. It's where you feel comfortable, and in place. And to a certain degree, I carry that wherever I am. On the other hand, I'll never have all my family with me, and all my friends with me, and it would take that to be completely at home. But wherever I am, whether it's in a hotel room, or my bedroom, or onstage, or walking down the street in a strange town, I'm at home, and I'm not. There is no Fortress of Solitude for me; what home I have, I carry with me.

And that's a very freeing thing. Now when I go visit someplace, it's not for the location (unless it's some location I've never been, like Ireland, or Brazil). It's just for the people. I don't have to go somewhere to remember my home. And when I'm there, I don't have to miss my home. If I go to St. Louis to see my Dad and Step-Mom, or Colorado Springs to see David, or Pleasanton to see Mom and Robbie - it's all home.

One thing I did love about the trip - my sister got to see me onstage for the first time since my Senior Recital in college. She got to see me play, sing, entertain, and just rock the crowd. And though my brother had seen me before, I'm much, much better now.

Well, as you can tell, I'm in a kinda serious mood, and I know all three of you who read this do so for the humor. So I'll leave you until I'm in a more entertaining mood. Talk to you soon, and keep writing!

Jester

I'm not a big fan of Playboy pictorials. As porn goes, it's incredibly lame. And as the for selection of women - it's usually fake blondes with fake tits staring blankly at the camera hoping someday they'll either have a thought or a sugardaddy to make sure they never need one. Their turn-offs are rudeness and bad breath, and they all love puppies. Who gives a shit? I sure don't. I've dated several girls who were prettier than 99% of those cookie-cutter clones. And I've never dated a girl as vacuous as most of them seem to be.

Having said that, a friend of mine just gave me the June 2004 Playboy, which is now my favorite edition of all time, for five reasons:

1) Charisma Carpenter naked (Cordelia, from "Buffy" and "Angel")
2) The Playmate of the Month was Asian (ever since falling for a Filipino girl last year, I'm totally entranced with asian girls. And Hiromi Oshima? Damn hot)
3) Charisma Carpenter naked
4) Playmate of the Year Carmella DeCesare - totally shaves. I'm all about the shave.
5) Did I mention Charisma Carpenter naked?

Of course, I tried to express how wonderful this edition was to Christine, and for some reason, she thought I was being a typical male pig. What gave her that impression?

In other news, I'm getting ready for my trip to Texas. Man, I'm so excited. Of course, I probably won't be getting any during the trip, and that sucks. But still, overall - it's going to be great. I get to see my family, and I've missed them a lot. Plus, some of them haven't seen the new short haired and clean-shaven Jess.

Well, I'll talk to you all soon (if you're not so disgusted by this rant that you never want to speak to me again)...

Jester