ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hi, I'm Illyria Jones! Welcome to The Happy Phantom weblog. I once lived in a small town in Florida which I write about frequently in this space. The names have been changed, but the people and places are real. As a Philadelphia native who found herself to be a prisoner of inertia, I've decided to stop resisting and just go with the flow. Doesn't mean I don't get a little frustrated every now and then! Here's to better days, new beginnings, making friends, and a life less ordinary in Florida.
ABOUT
Ramblin' Daze
When I was in college, I rambled with some girls who listened to Tori Amos' Little Earthquakes album from morning to night. They were such lovely lasses, too!
The one track I liked best was "The Happy Phantom," about a she-ghost who haunted the places she had been when she lived in her mortal coil. I fell in love with the idea --a phantom has freedom to do and say anything she wants, regardless of convention.
And so here is my Happy Phantom blog, a place for the posting of whatever pleases the imagination. In fact, the more it flies in the face of all things conventional, the better! The happy phantom runs naked through the catholic schoolyard without her mask on. The happy phantom wears her naughties like a jewel.
And, I believe the Happy Phantom has every right to bitch.
THE PHANTOM PLAYERS
The following are names/aliases you may come across in daily posts.
Marvinsburg: a small, small town somewhere in Florida. Once a backdrop for the Happy Phantom blog, it is now the site where life lessons were learned, hearts were broken, and the good times rolled in on two wheels every April.
Illyria Jones: Yours truly, writer of The Happy Phantom blog, once was living in Marvinsburg, once was a teacher of writing, once worked for the Marvinsburg Mafia, and now has moved onto a better town, a better job, and better days.
Sparky: Local boss of the Marvinsburg Mafia. He traffics in high class transportation (wink wink!) He mongrams the cuffs of his own shirts while partaking of whiskey and water, though these days he favors the latter straight up with a whiskey back. Also a known eavesdropper and lover of a dirty limerick. once a friend to Illyria Jones.
Archie Artifact: Once Sparky's right-hand man and once Illyria's love interest, though she moved on to better days with better people. Not only is he a paleoenthusiast, he can also trace his roots back to Coronado. When not digging through neighbors' yards for fossils, he can be found at the local watering hole attempting to channel the Spanish explorers of his ancestral past through doubles of rum and water. Also, because of his penchant for home decor and acquiring obscure kitchen utensils that he never uses, he is sometimes known as the sixth man on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.
That Mainer Wes: A man from Maine named Wes. Also in the "Marvinsburg Mafia" and a royal pain.
Lucifer: Once Sparky's left-hand man--kinda like the "Christopher" of the Marvinsburg Mafia. Defender of all that is good, which includes sin. A Mormon in exile, he turned his back on the Church of Latter Day Saints when faced with the Mormon rite of passage for men called "Mission Work." Lucifer said "HELL NO!" to the proposal that he travel to Jakarta to convert the heathens armed only with minature green bibles. Little did he know that the reward for a completed Mission would be as many wives as he would like. Now his nights are filled with Hamburger Helper.
Lady Penelope: A talented author of the "Fat Jerry" blog and great friend to Illyria, despite the physical distance between the two. Also, a fabulous sinner.
Brian: Another wonderful friend to Illyria, a film expert, and the last of the Martini Pundits, a nearly extinct race in Marvinsburg.
Parker: Once ruled the tropics with Illyria and Lady Penelope as part of the Sloshed Triumvirate, dining on onion pizzas and playing rounds of Celebrity Bowl. Now works for The Man and dines on Chinee Takee Outee.
Phoenix: A bibliophile living in England. While avoiding real responsibility, he likes to bike, hike, and safari in Africa. In fact, the Toto song "I Bless the Rains Down in Africa" was based upon real events in Phoenix' life.
SPECTRE BLOGS
More Cowbell
Keeping the Faith (archives)
Denotsko
The Far Left Coast
Every Stretch of the Imagination
Princess Wild Cow
Srah Blah Blah
The Whiskey Bar
Crooked Timber
The Right to Remain Silent
Sasha Frere-Jones
The Synchronicity of Indeterminacy
2 Blowhards
Urban Semiotic
KimchiHead
No More Mister Nice Blog
PHANTOM PHAVORITES
Fametracker: The Farmer's Almanac of Celebrity Worth
Homestar Runner, for your weekly dose of Strongbad Email
Lyrics Freak, for when you want to practice your karaoke favorites
THE LATEST SURVEY
HAPPY PHANTOM OF THE WEEK
Francesca Lia Block
Author Francesca Lia Block is the renowned writer of groundbreaking "contemporary fairy tales with an edge." The daugher of a poet and a painter, Block's writing is influenced by the visual arts and dance, as well as authors Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Isabel Allende, and Hilda Doolittle. Her settings are usually the subcultures of Los Angeles where she grew up and currently resides.
While her works are usually marketed to adolescents, her novels and short stories attract the attention of all readers. My first exposure to Block was The Hanged Man. My officemate Cat left a copy on her desk, so I read it during my downtime. I was enchanted with how she used a Tarot reading to construct a novel about a young girl dealing with her father's death and sexual abuse. Her lush descriptions of LA create a haunting mood for this somber subject.
Aside from the poetic imagery which color her work, Block also draws on subtle writing devices of the masters, like listing objects as Charles Dickens often did. Check out this description of a house from the main character Laurel's point of view:
We live in a house with a tower. The man who it was a toymaker; he carved the faces over the fireplace and planted the vines that cover the walls and the oleander in the garden. It smells like cedar and eucalyptus, smoke and lavender in this house. There are things everywhere: books, shells, fossils, dried flowers, bird skulls, the antique wooden cherub, the miniature stone sphinx, ivory monkeys, the brass menorah, china dolls with little teeth, the ancient Roman tear vessel that came from a tomb -- that looks like a fossilized tear itself; the three bronze women stand erect. My father made them before I was born
It is such a simple paragraph, but it reveals much about Laurel's psyche. Block also draws upon her love of Roman and Greek mythology to rewrite fairy tales in Ecstasia, Primavera, and The Rose and the Beast. Her newest work, Necklace of Kisses comes out in less than a month. Because she mixes old world magic in modern day settings, Francesca Lia Block is the Happy Phantom of the Week!
PHANTOM QUOTE OF THE WEEK
"I accustomed myself to simple hallucination; I saw quite deliberately a mosque instead of a factory, a drummer's school conducted by angels, carriages on the highways of the sky, a salon at the bottom of a lake; monsters, mysteries, a vaudeville poster raising horrors before my eyes."
--Arthur Rimbaud
PHANTOM ANIMAL OF THE DAY
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Saturday, October 14, 2006
Because of my migraine headache accompanied by nausea, I direct you the Unclaimed Territory's editorial on Peggy Noonan's complaints about the Left's intolerance of dissent. This is one of the finest op-ed responses I have read in the Blogosphere since my return.
Before you read Glenn Greenwald's piece, remember the words of Teddy Roosevelt: "To announce that there must be no criticism of the president, or that
we are to stand by the president, right or wrong, is not only
unpatriotic and servile, but is morally treasonable to the American
public." (1918)
Seditious indeed, Mr. President! But if you were alive today, I think
the current incarnation of your party would have busted your trust, so
to speak.
Posted at 01:08 pm by IllyriaJones
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Friday, October 13, 2006
You Can Count On Me, Part II
This
week had the highest highs and the lowest lows. Sometimes, it is
difficult to find the balance when something doesn't just tip the
scale, but sends one side careening over the edge of the table.
I have a lot to be thankful for. A good job. A roof over my head. A
loving family, even if they are far away. And I am thankful for these
things. But sometimes . . . sometimes I reach out for something to make
my life a little less ordinary. And sometimes the less ordinary finds
me.
In walks The Czech.
Since I have been back in MarsVegas (after the one-and-a-half year
stint in Marvinsburg), I have met some nice, kind, sometimes kooky
people. Salut, the poet. Tad. And my Office Spouse. But The Czech . .
.The Czech may be the most interesting for his stark differences to me
and the complementary stark similarities. And the timing of The Czech
could not have been more graceful, more apropro, more perfect.
But this post isn't quite about The Czech. It's more about the Office
Spouse. Because if it wasn't for my Office Spouse, none of the business
with The Czech would have occurred. The Office Spouse is the only
office mate who has seen me cry, and --despite his southside Boston
ways-- knew exactly how to comfort and encourage me. So really, if it
wasn't for his concern and vision, I might not have had a quite
wonderful after-hours week with The Czech.
On the other hand, my work definitely suffered. And I love my job. But
the sleeplessness took an embarrassing toll. But it was more than just
the lack of sleep. Work was not just a little dull; it was flat out
difficult and droll this week for me. I was scattered, unfocused, and
just plain listless. It was terrible. I had this project and I just
couldn't quite make good on it. And I think part of the reason was that
my Office Spouse was away on training all week. I mean, this is the
person I have continuous contact with during the day. We speak our own
private language where simple words have two-fold meaning and a look is
immediately understood by the other. In the purest definition of office
spouses, we look out for one another. We are each other's "cone of
safety." We can vent and not be judged. But my Office Spouse even helps
in my personal life. He's kind and stoic, and funny and generous. So
was it really any surprise that I had the worst week at work the very
same week he was away?
Friday was a bottom-dweller day. It was the ultimate low point for me.
I dismayed the boss and more so, I disappointed myself. It was an
overall defeat. But when my Office Spouse returned from training at
four in the afternoon, I felt a little better. I squeezed his hand and
everything felt a little more bearable. He said he saw me in the boss'
office (the nadir of my week). He said I looked so miserable he just
wanted to give me a hug.
Let me point out that my Office Spouse and I are not touchy-feely,
shiney happy people. We don't hug. We just don't. So the fact that
after a week of separation that I squeezed his hand and he wanted to hug me
to cheer me up, I think, testifies to our deep level of friendship. And
that pure Christian kindness makes me cry just a little bit. And it
makes me feel like I have these friends, these new MarsVegas friends,
that I can count on, and they know that they can count on me.
I have wonderful friends in Marvinsburg. Just wonderful people who make
me smile and laugh and take care of me when I'm blue. And that means a
lot. I just didn't think I could find that again in my new "old" place,
but I realized today that I did. The Office Spouse, Salut the Poet,
Tad, and The Czech are all important people to me, --kind, sincere
people-- who will always be important people to me. Sometimes it takes
a high high and a low low to come together so you realize that things
are just right.
Now let's overlook the fact that these friends are all men, because I
am sure that I can be friends with women. I'm sure I can --on some
level. But, tis true, for now it is just Lady Penelope for me.
But for most of the Marvinsburg Mafia listed to the left of my blog, .
. . well, they didn't really come through for me in the end. Not Boss
Sparky, not Lucifer, certainly not the Mainer, and disappointingly, not
Archie. Who can you count on when you need to count on someone? Not
these people.
Posted at 07:41 pm by IllyriaJones
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Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Today at work, I brought in a fantastic chocolate cake! Just this big, fat decadent cake to celebrate my one year on the job. It was delicious through and through! But being that it was of such mammouth proportions, there was plenty of leftover scrumptious cake after myself and my coworkers consumed our hefty portions. We work in one of five buildings --not one much bigger than the other, but they are spread out through the campus. I placed the leftover chocolate cake in the kitchen of my building, but then I thought no one in the other buildings will know it's here, and I didn't want it to dry out. Stale cake isn't nearly so yummy. So when I got back to my desk, I crafted the following email for the campus:
Hello all! There is a delicious chocolate cake in the kitchen of Building C. Stop by and partake in a slice of scrumptious dessert. Come on, you know you want to!
It probably wasn't even a minute after I pressed the Send button that people I had never seen before started flocking through the doors of my building. I just watched all these bodies --mostly tall, hefty men-- briskly striding past my area. Like beat cops to frosted doughnuts, they rushed to the kitchen. When I went to the kitchen myself to witness the spectacle, the chocolate cake was swarmed by these six-foot men. In Lord of the Flies fashion, one had grabbed the knife and unequally divided the cake among the other natives. Within a minute, it was gone. Just one little crumb on the counter and the rest had vanished --whisked back to the other four buildings and promptly consumed.
It was more amusing and diverting than the actual party which the cake was for. In the corporate world, email advertising food produces this Pavlovian response where workers --primarily male-- respond without even thinking if they are hungry or not. It's nature, I guess, this call of the chocolate cake.
Posted at 05:51 pm by IllyriaJones
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Monday, October 09, 2006
For the last several years, I have held Kenneth Lonergan's film You Can Count on Me
in high regard. I certainly enjoyed the acting debut of Mark Ruffalo,
and I never thought the performances from Laura Linney and Matthew
Broderick were ever phoned in. The scenes between Terry (Ruffalo) and
his nephew Rudy (Rory Culkin) were certainly unexpected and touching.
And the relationship between Sammi (Linney) and her pedantic boss were
crackling with the undercurrent of bizarre attraction and humor. But
all this has been cast into doubt by a filmhound friend who claims the
dialogue and scenes between these characters is all at the surface
level with no depth underneath. I was amazed that was the charge,
considering I thought the exact opposite. I could understand charges of
a weak plot that unravels a bit at the end, some cliched editing, or
even a pace that moves like a snail, but I always though the subtext of
the conversations in the film was its centerpiece. How will I ever be
able to identify with a melancholy Sammi when she laments that the
reason she sleeps with a mama's boy like accountant Bob and a
wife-whipped boy like bank officer manager Brian is because she feels
sorry for them?
Posted at 07:31 pm by IllyriaJones
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Saturday, October 07, 2006
Life
is sweet! Why wouldn't it be? Plenty of sunshine and cool weather
outside! I'm happy and healthy with a good job, good friends, and good
times that just keep rolling in. And now the office is sweet, too!
This week, our friends in business services, which is everybody,
received bags and bags of sweet, sweet candy. Why? For being such
sweet, sweet employees. But this was no ordinary candy! This candy was
accompanied by puns. And who doesn't love a good pun? Really? I never
tire of someone telling me how great Ernest Hemingway's The Pun Also Rises is. So if you want to make a point about how much you appreciate your employees --if you want them to know just how very special they are to the company-- say it with puns.
Contents of candy bag:
1 Fruit Roll-up
1 Life Saver candies pack
1 roll of Smarties
1 generic mint
1 generic granola bar weighing in at 0.84 ounces
1 list of puns
Contents of list of puns:
Fruit Roll-up: "You play a vital roll in the lives of our business."
Life Savers: "Because you are appreciated hole-heartedly by customers."
Smarties: "For your smart way of doing business."
Mint: "The enjoy-mint you provide to others during your intern-mint here."
Granola Bar: "Because you raise the bar for business standards across the country."
 Tom Kennedy is no sucker! He's the head cook of Kendon Candies.
Picture courtesy of http://www.exploratorium.edu/cooking/candy/kendon.html
Want to feel loved? Say it with flowers, candy, and puns!
Posted at 09:27 am by IllyriaJones
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Tuesday, October 03, 2006
"And Just Like That . . .
.
. . life descended from the sky and landed on my humble doorstep.
Nothing alien, nothing strange, but something with a beating heart and
a will so strong and so wonderful. Kindness, gentleness, and stunning
intelligence all wrapped with a checkered ribbon. A slight pout, a
shadowy softness, and a mysterious sparkle. Not quite foreign, not
quite native, not quite like anything I had ever witnessed, but there
it is, on my doorstep." I
feel very much alive today --much more so than I have felt in months.
Alive and for once I think I am happy. I'm told by peers and friends
that I am "smiling" much more often then makes them comfortable. Gone
is the dry ennui that so finely dusted my days, I was barely aware that
I wasn't quite living in synchronicity with the roulette wheel. But I
guess my lucky number finally appeared and here I am seeing the
world and life with crystal clear vision. I wasn't looking
for it, but it found me, perhaps just in time.
Posted at 09:16 pm by IllyriaJones
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Saturday, September 30, 2006
Someone's back in Marvinsburg, but I'm not saying who just yet.
Posted at 03:25 pm by IllyriaJones
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Sunday, August 21, 2005
Enough with the Comments Spam from BigNews.Com! Am I the only blogger getting these lame posts?
Why do I even
bother posting about people who can't even be bothered to read this
damn blog? Yep, I think this blog may be heading for the scrapheap of
rejected journals. Comment spammers, don't even bother. No one's
reading.
Posted at 03:17 pm by IllyriaJones
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Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Oh,
life has been difficult lately, and I haven't been posting regularly
because the neverending job search has taken precedence. Yesterday, I
dumbed down my resume and wrote a great cover letter about how I want
to be a mortgage shipper for a retirement community. I'm not really
sure what a mortgage shipper is, but I thought I could sort of get
enthused by it.
So, I've been
trying to conserve my pennies and live on the cheap without looking
like it. The other day I had a migraine and had to take some special
medicine for it. Well this special medicine always gives me bursts of
creative inspiration between the bursts of sheer pain. So I wrote my
own set of jokes. They all begin the same way (think of the "yo' mama"
series of jokes), but the answers . . . .while being funny are also
true, and therefore sad. So here it goes!
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm soooooo poor, I have to buy generic brand nondairy powdered creamer to go in my generic brand powdered instant coffee.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo poor, I go to the bar on dollar beer night and drink water.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm soooooo poor, I do my laundry at the same time I go swimming in the complex pool.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo poor, I've been clipping coupons from the morning paper --my neighbor's morning paper.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo
poor, that even though I have a few Border's gift cards, I have to go
to the library to read a book. There are no Border's in Marvinsburg.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo poor, ditto with Barnes and Noble.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo
poor, that when I go to the library, I have to read the book in-house
because I haven't paid the fines from last month.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo poor, I don't even turn on my cellphone until after 9:00 pm.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo poor, I ignore all job ads that require postage via mail or local long distance charges via fax.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo poor, I've gone through all my hurricane food and water supply --from last year.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo poor, I blog browse all day out of sheer boredom.
Illyria, how poor are you?
I'm sooooo poor, I watch I Wanna Be a Hilton and cry out "Why can't that be me? Why! Why!"
Posted at 09:24 am by IllyriaJones
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Tuesday, August 02, 2005
The People That You Meet in Marvinsburg
A
couple of weeks ago, Archie Artifact and I stopped at The Hamhock
Tavern to see Chris Merrell, a vocalist and guitarist who has been
touring with The Grass Roots for the last ten years or so --but when he
isn't touring the urban cities of the nation, he's here in Marvinsburg.
Oh yeah, we're just that cool.
So I guess you're wondering who Chris Merrell is. Well, I'm not lying
about him being in The Grass Roots . . . oh, you want to know who The
Grass Roots are!!! Good question. I asked it myself. I mean, I always
heard of them and knew they were one of those Allman-esque bands of the
1960s who every now and then get together to tour with The Union Gap
band or Herman's Hermits or Journey or 3 Dog Night. But I really don't
listen to any of those bands and can't name a single song except for 3
Dog's Night's "Eli's Coming."
(Chris is on the left, but he looks much younger here.)
So, like all post-Gen X-ers, I googled him, and did indeed produce some
fantastic photos. I took some of him with my cellphone, but these from The Grass Roots Fan Page
are much better quality. The solo one of Chris playing the guitar is
what he looks like now. Indeed, no matter how hot or humid the Florida
weather, I have never seen him not
clad in a longsleeve collar shirt and cowboy boots. In fact, Archie
Artifact now wants to buy some cowboy boots and take electric guitar
lessons! So cute!
But what makes Chris better than those other aging rock stars is, well,
he's not aging! You see unlike lead singer Rob Grille, Chris is not one
of the founding members of the band! So he couldn't possibly be that
old! Indeed, his youthful vim and vigor shine through in his excellent
guitar playing and loose lyrics of classic songs. On his own, Chris has
a whole catalog of familiar tunes he plays, from The Beatles to Bowie
to Tom Petty, though not enough of the Gainesville native, which he
rues and promises to correct.
Actually, watching Chris play the Hamhock, or any bar in Marvinsburg,
is like being a part of an inside joke. None of the patrons quite
understand him. They think he stands up on the dais and sings the
lyrics straight, which is actually really rare. He has a much more
playful personality, like when he does his schizophrenic duet of "To
All the Girls I Loved Before" with a Willie Nelson wig. Or on extra
special occassions, his brother joins him to sing "I Am the Walrus" or
Bowie's "Let's Dance." And then he makes these arch observations and
arcane references to literature and film and culture that sail over the
local barstool warmers' heads. So sad. But so funny because Archie and
I get the jokes --because we aren't from Marvinsburg either!
So I like it when Chris plays the Hamhock or the Red Neck Saloon or the
Missed Street Taphouse because then I know I might actually find some
intellectual stimulation in person instead of online at Blog Explosion.
I'm sure that Chris will stop by my blog when he isn't busy singing or
changing nappies or giving Archie guitar lessons, and in that case let
me put in a few song requests: 3 Dog Night's "Eli's Coming" and Tom
Petty's "American Girl." Anyone else want to get on the Song Request
Train? Oh, how about some Tom Waits?
Posted at 09:39 am by IllyriaJones
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