Oh, I'm really just the smart-ass you probably think I am. I'm not much of a joiner, so you won't see me doing book signings or hanging out at craft fairs. Not that there's anything wrong with that--it's just not my scene. Also, you won't see my photo out there, because I value my anonymity (I mean, look at those fools on reality TV. Ech!). Besides, it's really not about me, it's about YOU and where you take this idea and how you make it your own. That said, I'll throw in a couple of odd photos to quell the rumors that, like JT Leroy, I really don't exist. I do. Just ask my cats. They oughta know, those needy little bastards. (see how much I bore them?)

I'm the gal who lived in Rome for a semester and never once saw the Sistine Chapel because there were too many Fiorucci stores in my path (pathetic, I know). I'm the gal who goes out of her way to save small animals and give bottles of champagne to homeless people (my husband refers to this as my Imelda Marcos complex). I'm the gal who talked my way into an internship with Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood while I was stuck in Pittsburgh at grad school (weekdays were spent with Heidegger and Husserl; weekends in the Purple Panda suit at public appearances with Bob Dog and Mr. McFeely). I'm the youngest in a family of seven kids and all of our names begin with the letter "J" (even my parents). I’m the first one to remind you that self-induced hilarity is absolutely vital and if you think your GPA will matter for the rest of your life, you need a reality check (and a cocktail, sister!).

Who are you? How did you hear about Subversive? Drop me a line and say hello - isn't that what this dang ole internets is for?

disguises! wigs! rabbit ears! and cross stitch portrait from the book

Left: Two of my five brothers convincing me that I grew on an orange tree.

Below: Sometimes the people in my family are so funny I can't STAND it.