Monday, January 31, 2011

Adventures in Aviation, Part X

So here we are, Adventures in Aviation Part X; the mac daddy, the big kahuna, my six and seventh official flight lessons. Yes that's right. Due to unforeseen circumstances, I've neglected to write about the unofficial flying I've done with Wes as well as my six official flight lesson until now. I'm lame, I know. So let's sum it up shall we?

Scene: An unassuming Sunday in January at Camarillo Airport
The Characters: Jocelyn, struggling student of aviation, and Wes, unofficial flight instructor
The Equipment: Light sport aircraft
The Outcome:
W: Alright, let's take off.
J: Ok, walk me through it. I'm not used to you being my instructor (Excuses, excuses # 1).
W: I like to roll in the power to about 3000 and then push it all the way in to take off.
J: I've never done it like that before. I always just push the bad boy in all the way and go.
W: Really? It's better on the plane if you do it the way I suggested.
J: Oh, right.
W: Let's practice some touch and go's at Oxnard.

(10 minutes later, coming in for landing)

W: You're coming in a little high and fast.
J: Mr. Instructor and I have practiced more touch and go's at Camarillo than at Oxnard, so I'm not used to this airport. Maybe you should demonstrate the landing first (Excuses, excuses #2).

(40 minutes later, on the ground back at Camarillo)

W: Not bad. You did a great job.
J: Ya, I'm not too sure about that. I'm just not used to flying the pattern at Oxnard since it's higher than Camarillo's (Excuses, excuses #3).

It wasn't that interesting of an experience, so I'll leave it at that. And it was a couple of weeks ago, so more memorable (read: death defying) experiences have happened since then.

I decided to go all out and coordinate the color of my pants with the color of the plane for my six official flying lesson. Snazzy aren't I?

Scene: A sunny Saturday in January at Camarillo Airport
The Characters: Jocelyn, Cali Valley girl, and Mr. Instructor, official flight instructor
The Equipment: Light sport aircraft
The Outcome:
Mr. I: Let's practice some stalls.
Me (unsaid): When are we not practicing stalls! I can never get away from these damn stalls!
Mr. I: So please demonstrate a power off stall.
Me: I'm going to say it as I do it. It helps me keep it straight. Ok, let's pull some power out, give it a notch of flaps, make sure I'm on my heading and altitude, pull some more power out, and give it another notch of flaps. We're watching the airspeed drop and giving it right rudder to compensate. Alright, that feels like a stall. Now I'm giving it full power, noise down, take out a notch of flaps, watch my airspeed come alive, make sure my VSI is positive, and take out the remaining flaps.
Mr. I: Good job. Now please demonstrate a power on stall.
Me: Ok. I would …
Mr. I: Actually, I've noticed that this plane doesn't like to stall; it likes to keep flying. So I want to try a power on stall myself, and REALLY get this thing to stall. My plane.
Me: Ok, your plane.

(Mr. I pushes the power all the way in and pulls the stick all the way back so we are practically vertical. The plane stalls. HARD.)

Me: Oh my god!

(I reach for the controls and try to pull the stick back even more in an effort to correct the dip, swoosh OH MY GOD WE'RE GOING TO DIE experience. Mr. I calmly pushes the stick forward).

Mr. I: Now that was a stall! But notice how it was your natural reaction to want to pull the stick back to correct it? That's exactly what you DON'T want to do. It will continue the stall and possibly turn the stall into a spin, and spins are very dangerous.
Me: I didn't like that. That was pretty scary.
Me (unsaid): Are you crazy! Why did we need to get the plane to "really stall"? Aren't normal feels-like-they-are-going-to-kill-you-stalls enough? But no, we needed to do a I-just-crapped-my-pants-no-like-seriously-I'm-sitting-in-my-own-feces-stall. Thanks a lot. Can I go home now?

Dramatics aside, it was a good learning experience and I'm happy to report that I haven't sworn off flying. I just like practicing stalls even less.

So guess what we practiced this past Saturday during my seventh official flight lesson. Stalls! Who said you're supposed to enjoy yourself on the weekend? Weekends are for testing the laws of natural selection, and I'm getting very good at beating 'em.

To be continued…

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

An Oldie but a Goodie

Have whatever opinions you may about Facebook, there's one thing for certain: it's an entertaining place. I think of it as a quaint little coffee shop where I can anonymously sit in a corner and enjoy the antics of the patrons. I don't go there often (too much Facebook, as with coffee, makes me feel crazy), but it's fun to see who's dating/marrying/getting drunk with who every now and again. One of my favorite things to do on Facebook is abuse the profile page. You know, add information that isn't exactly true but is entirely hilarious. Here's my most favorite example. A masterpiece I helped create for a college friend (without his consent). Enjoy!


Account Info
Name: Fred B.
(names have been changed to protect the innocent)
Member Since: February 7, 2006

Basic Info
School: UCLA
Status: Undergrad
Sex: Male

Personal Info
Interested In: Women
Relationship Status: In a Relationship
Political Views: Libertarian

Interests: getting steamrolled, reading InTouch in Ackerman, skipping (esp. to class), jumping rope, exercise videos, leg warmers, english muffins, flowin', wrapping presents, using my new George Foreman grill, stalking Tom Cruise, working on my tan, competitive eating, biftas, kissing my girlfriend's spine while she sleeps, going to Starbucks in Malibu for the occasional Britney (and baby Sean) sighting

Clubs and Jobs: Being Ridiculously Good Looking, Amateur Wresters of America Featherweight Division

Favorite Music: Kanye, MiMi, Diddy, JLo, JoJo, Aaron Carter, Lindsey Lohan

Favorite TV Shows: The Simple Life, WWF Raw, True Life I'm a Competitive Eater, Flavor of Love, Seinfeld

Favorite Movies: Gigli

Favorite Books: Men Are From Mars Women Are From Venus, Amateur Wrestlers of America How to Guide - Volume I

Favorite Quote:
Make a wish, take a chance, make a change, and break away - Kelly
If you aint no punk holla We Want Prenup
It's something that you need to have
Cause when she leave you ass, she gonna leave with half - Kanye

About Me:
So I just found out that I have an evil twin. When we were babies he tried to kill me, so my parents decided to keep him chained up in the attic. I only found this out yesterday. Heavy.

People underestimate the comfort and support of tidy whities. They keep me tidy and whitey.

I just finished writing a letter to UPN. They need to make an America's Next Top Model for Men. Clearly I would win, since I look like Tom Cruise. Maybe they knew that already and don't want to pay me royalties.

And as you can see, I keep my promises. Profile updates will keep flowin!


I'm a good friend aren't I!

XOXO Jelly

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

My Chi is Off – A Poem

Criticism flies toward me like lint to a coat.
My father is an acquired taste that sometimes causes me to bloat.

Broken glass shatters my day.
Man how I hate ebay.

Typos traumatize my self-esteem.
Did I really think flying was spelled without the i, n, g?

Compared to my face, any pimply 13 year old looks like Sharon Stone.
I’m 25 with a bad case of hormones.

Katy Perry really puts me in a good mood.
Until a phone call interrupts; so rude.

Something morbid is floating in the air.
Cats should live forever; life isn't fair.

But at this time of night I can never be blue.
Because I’m right where I want to be: at home with you.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Dear P MC Baby

Dear P MC Baby,

I'm not really sure how to start this, or whether I should be writing you something in the first place (considering that your mom will probably never allow you to read this provocative website of mine), but you've been on my mind lately and I wanted to write you a little note. You're kinda small at this point… let me go check the fruit chart. Holy cow! You're the size of a peach!

Where was I… so you're kinda small and I can't believe you're going to grow into my little niece or nephew. I haven't been around many pregnant people before, especially ones I'm related to, so this is a whole new experience for me. I'm very excited and nervous, and hope everything goes well as you cook up in Mama's oven. Maybe I should apologize at this point, since you don't get to pick who you're related to and you just so happen to be related to me. I'm not all that bad; just don't catch me when I'm hungry.

I'm probably going to have an emotional freak out one of these days (OMG I can't believe my sister is having a baby!!!), but it will be a good freak out. The kind you have when you realize Santa Claus is not real, even though you continue to get presents on Christmas. It'll be a "time to grow up" freak out (OMG I can't believe my sister is having a baby!!!). Oh, and I didn't mean that thing about Santa Claus. He's totally real. I was just using it as an example.

So basically what I'm trying to say, is that you are very loved and anticipated. You also happen to have the most awesome Mama in the world (your Dad on the other hand…). So keep on swimming and sleeping and growing in your little cocoon. We want to meet you after you're all done and plumped, and not a moment sooner.

Your Auntie J

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

A Once in a Lifetime Opportunity

If you’ve been round these parts for any length of time, then you probably know that I’m getting hitched. And let me tell you something about weddings: they ain’t cheap. Keeping this fact in mind, I’ve come up with a creative solution to offset some of these wedding expenses. I’m going to pimp out my soon-to-be husband.

Has your baby daddy skipped town and you needs him to show up in court so you can get your skrilla? Cause somebody’s gots to take care of dem damn babies! Well you’re in luck. How about hire a bounty hunter? He will track down your baby daddy, your rouge tenant, your hamster, your Aunt Mrytle, anybody! For the low starting price of $99.99. You can afford to tie up your loose ends for that price!

(Fine print: Dog comes included. Although if he has to shoot anybody, you will be charged the cost of ammunition.)

Got a bird problem? We’ve got just the exterminator for you! He does the job clean and efficiently so you don’t have to deal with the mess. Nobody likes to get pooped on when walking from the car to the house, and now you won’t have to worry about it! One session with our exterminator and we promise those birds will be gone and you will be poop free for at least one week. Just send your cash or money order in amount of $99.99 to us today! Or if you’ve got a REALLY bad bird problem, our exterminator knows other exterminators and together they are the Tres Amigos Asesinos! Three times the fire power for only double the price. That’s right! Only $199.98!

(Fine print: This service is limited to the extermination of animals only; doves are preferable. You will not be able to keep the carcasses.)

Need a redneck to show up at your work’s “Accepting Other Cultures and Ethnicities Day”? Again, you’re in luck! We’ve got a one-of-a-kind, red-in-the-neck, hick-to-the-bone brother just waiting for you to hire him! He can answer all your questions, such as: “What mullet should I get if I’m going to a wedding” and “What type of mullet is acceptable for work?” or “What is the best ammunition to use to shoot a propane tank?” Don’t trust amateurs when you can be educated by an expert! We guarantee he will not show up on time, not be sober and definitely be wearing camo. All this for the low price of $99.99.

(Fine print: It is against the law to solicit sex, so please don't try to solicit those types of services from our redneck. If it’s hot, then he is allowed to take off his shirt, but that’s it!)

So what are you folks waiting for? Time is running out and his schedule is filling up. Don’t wait, call today!

(Advertisement paid for by: Brides Who Would Rather Pimp Out Their Husband than Remove Caviar from the Wedding Menu LLC).

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

The A, b, c and d’s of Running

I run rather frequently. It’s my coping mechanism, stay sane solution and be fit formula. I highly recommended it. Since I have a rather regular running schedule (sorry for all the alliteration, I can’t help myself), I’ve been able to notice the pattern in which my thoughts develop. They consistently fall into a select number of categories. I’m calling them the “A, b, c and d’s of Running”.

A: Aerobic Exercise
I believe the only REAL exercise is aerobic exercise. If it doesn’t get my heart pumping wildly and for an extended period of time, then it might as well as be called sleeping. I find that I constantly remind myself of this when I’m running. I’m reassuring myself there’s a purpose to all the pain: “You’re exercising to exercise Jocelyn, and aerobic exercise is good for you!” or “Think how much better prepared you’ll be if you have to escape from an attacking wild animal! Because of all the aerobic exercise you do!”

B: Boys
Well, there’s only one boy in my life. He’s my stud, my John Doe, my Gangsta: Wes. I find running to be a time where I can reflect on my relationship. I usually try to think back to a year or two years ago and remember what stage our relationship was in. There was definitely a time where I would think about what a dysfunctional/“this is never going to work out” relationship we had while running. Not that this was ever the case, but I was crazier two years ago than I am today (if you can believe it). As much as I try to be positive, there’s a little doomsayer who frequently takes up residence my brain. I let him loose when I run, and then leave him behind on the trail.

C: New Criteria and Creativity
As I mentioned in category A, I frequently reflect on how physically painful it is to run. My knees are sore, my feet feel cramped and my legs are exhausted. I catalog all the different acute pains I feel, and then convince myself that this is forcing my body to use new criteria to evaluate how close to death I am. Even when it gets really painful and I think I’m going to die at any minute, I don’t. I survive! And now my body knows it can too!

I also try to be creative when I run. I make up stories about the people I see or try to imagine what their daily life must be like. It makes me feel like I’m being doubly productive. I’m exercising my body and my mind!

D: Drinking
Without fail, I always think about what kind of drink I can reward myself with after having burned all those calories during my run. I don’t think about donuts or ding dongs. I think about a chilled, crisp Riesling or a salty, frothy Margarita. Maybe I think about drinking because running makes me thirsty, or maybe because I really love my wine? I usually end up doing the responsible thing and reward myself with a huge glass of water, but that’s boring. There’s no way I’d be as motivated to run if I thought about all the lame water I’d get to drink when I was done.

And there you have it. My a, b, c and d’s of running. I'd like to think I've got a mind like a maniac, but the body of a babe.

Just kidding on that last part.

Friday, January 14, 2011

About Me

I updated the About Me section of this little 'ol blog, in case you're curious to see what I have to say about myself. It's over there on the right as a separate page called About Me (duh). I’m posting it here as well, so you don’t miss out on all the juicy details.

Happy Friday!

Hi. My name is Jocelyn. Aka Jelly.
I live in the San Fernando Valley of Los Angeles, affectionately referred to as "The Valley". I'm just another Cali Valley girl trekking through her mid-twenties and trying to cause trouble, but not too much.
I'm a constantly curious, frequently emotional and occasionally funny type of gal. This is what I look like when I'm pouting:
Age 2

The angelic one on the left is my sister. The demonic one on the right is me!

Age 25


I used to work in the entertainment industry, where I scheduled meetings and greetings between the bigwigs of Hollywood. I started this blog as an outlet from my current job, working as the creative director/bookkeeper/tax planner/customer relations/photographer/administrator/everything woman for my Dad's internet marketing company. I spend most of my day on the computer.

Since I don't have access to Tom Cruise's home address and dietary restrictions like I did in my past job, I needed to explore my creativity elsewhere. Enter The Jelly Logs. Now I have a place to share the crazy little stories I used to write to myself, but now I write and share with you! The World Wide Web!

And just to clarify: No, I do not nor ever did have access to Tom Cruise's home address (he wasn't one of my boss's clients), so you're better served buying one of those star maps on Sunset if you really want to know where he lives.

I hope you don't find this site too offensive or dumb, although I can't promise anything. I'm just another Cali Valley girl after all. Stick around and we'll have some fun!

Thursday, January 13, 2011

News Flash: Blah

Things have been a little on the blah side around here. Not blah bad or blah good, just plain unexciting blah. With that in mind would you like to go for a little tour?

Here we go!
Where you're going, you may never know!

Look there's a cow!
Now I need to go find my plow!

Two houses on a hill!
This tour is such a thrill!

And the runway's up ahead!
There's plenty of room for airplanes on this homestead!

Also on my mind: lawyers. This is because as we were lying in bed last night, Wes got a call from a lawyer… at 9:45 at night. Let me tell you how much I know about lawyers:

1) They practice something called law.
2) Law has three letters.
3) I like to break laws (not really).
4) Lawyers work late.
5) There are tons of jokes about lawyers. My soon-to-be brother-in-law knows a lot of them. He also happens to be a lawyer. Since he’s not here, let me find an example for you...

Q: What do you have when a lawyer is buried up to his neck in sand?
A: Not enough sand.


Q: What’s wrong with lawyer jokes?
A: Lawyers don’t think they’re funny, and nobody else thinks they’re jokes.

As for Wes’s conversation with the lawyer, I wasn’t really listening, but it sounded like a jolly good time. I am therefore anticipating the bill we’re going to receive. It was about a 22 minute convo (I might have to get a second job).

So there we have it. Just a good ‘ol blah week. But I have high hopes for the rest of the week! Some sweet potato muffins may be in my near future.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Adventures in Aviation, Part Neuf

Saturday marked my fifth official flight lesson after not being in any plane for almost a month. All the hustle and bustle of the holidays kept us grounded. Wes had left early Saturday morning and I was commissioned with getting to the airport by myself. Speaking of Wes, the gangster got his multi engine rating this weekend (he can fly planes with two engines! Wait, we don’t have a plane with two engines… oh well!). He impressed his FAA examiner by completing the practical test faster and more competently than any other student the examiner had seen. What a show off.

Anyhoodle, this post is about me, not my strong, capable, handsome chunk of a man who possesses unparalleled problem solving and time management skills. So I arrive at the airport and am tying my shoes just as Mr. Instructor shows up, destroying my plans to have the airplane checked and ready before Mr. Instructor showed up. Guess I need to work on my time management skills. I’ll ask Wes about that. We pull the plane out of the hangar and I remind Mr. I that this is only my fifth lesson and that I haven’t done any flying since our last lesson. I was feeling a little nervous, but didn’t want to say it outright. I believe you shouldn’t let anybody smell your fear. It’s counterproductive.

It was a cloudy day, so Mr. Instructor decided we’d stick to flying the pattern as opposed to practicing ground reference maneuvers, which would have been the day’s curriculum. For whatever reason, pulling up to the runway threshold and getting ready for takeoff wasn’t as overwhelming as it had seemed before. Maybe it was because there were no other planes waiting to takeoff behind us, or because the skies were releasing good vibes, but the checklist then lights, camera, action and full throttle went off without a hitch. We were airborne and setting up to fly the pattern.

Flying the pattern is basically circling around the airport in an established route and altitude. Each airport will have their own specific traffic pattern and altitude requirements. The altitude for Camarillo’s pattern 875 ft. I’m not sure if 875 ft. seems high or low to you, but climbing out at full throttle, we were hitting 500 ft. within 30 seconds, at which point I would have to turn left crosswind and reduce the throttle, then 10 seconds later make another left turn to fly upwind and reduce the throttle even more because BAMN we were already at 875 ft. To sum it up: flying the pattern happens fast! Which is why we made at least 15 loops in the pattern. And you know what that means: 15 loops = 15 landings. Sweet lordy, there is nothing more fun than landing.

Mr. I: You’re coming in a little fast. Reduce the throttle a bit.
Me: Ok.
Mr. I: Aim for the numbers. No, pull your noise up a little bit.
Me: Ok.
Mr. I: Now you need more throttle. Just a little.
Me: Ok.
Mr. I: Steady, steady, steady. Whoa your sink rate is too high.
Me (unsaid): I have no idea what you’re talking about! This plane is landing itself!
Mr. I: Good, good. Now let it come into ground effect. Down nice and easy.
Me (unsaid): Seriously. Who is landing this plane? I don’t know what I’m doing! It’s not listening to me!
Mr. I: Nice. You landed that one yourself!
Me (unsaid): Landed it myself? Wow, this is dangerous.

After all that pattern work, Mr. I and I decided to take a nice flight along the coast for the last 30 minutes of our lesson. I was curious if we could see the remains of the landslide which has closed portions of PCH for the past couple of weeks. That little flight along the coast really changed my perspective on flying. I felt in total control: I was keeping our altitude at a steady 500 ft., monitoring airspeed and plotting our course. It was the first time where I felt that Mr. I was my passenger and I was his pilot, not the other way around. I could go anywhere I wanted! The freedom! The independence! It was awesome. Mr. I just sat there and pointed out the houses along PCH he would buy if he had that kind of money. He didn’t correct me or tamper with my flying. He also took my picture.

It’s nice to end a flying lesson on a good note. Oh, wait. I did taxi the plane up to the hangar “too close to my brand new Mercedes! Now it’s going to have a bunch of pebble scratches and marks on it and it’s brand new! That’s not how we do things here at Camarillo. You need to try to be considerate.” That’s what the old man in the hangar across the way told us of after our flight. Can you imagine? A car getting scratched? That’s quite positively the worst thing that could happen in the whole world! Butthead.

The End.

Friday, January 7, 2011


It’s Friday, the end of the first week of the Nmoo Year, and I’m mooverjoyed that it’s over with. It’s just been one of those weeks. I’ve been somewhat moofficient. I’ve gotten the year’s W-moos and 1099-moos finished and I’m well on moo way into tax preparation. Isn’t that moognificient? I think because it’s Friday, and because I’m such an amoozing person, I’m going to treat mooself to a cocktail. But I’m going to be very mooture and do something I’ve moover done before: I’m going to buy a remoosable champagne cork! You see, I mooght have a problem. I am unable to let champagne go to waste once the bottle’s been moopened, which means I usually end up moorinking the whole thing. That all changes moonight!

And finally, I should tell you that I spent at least 2 hours today drawing that cow in Illustrator. It probably explains why I have moo on the brain.

And no, I haven’t been drinking.


XOXO Jelly

Wednesday, January 5, 2011


I hereby resolve to continue to be an imperfect human being. I shall accept that my left eyelid droops lower than my right eyelid due to years of squinting with my left when taking photos. I will discard the thought that plastic surgery could fix this deformity and give me a perfectly symmetrical face, because 1) I can’t afford it and 2) I’m too chicken to ever get any plastic surgery, oh and yes 3) Wes says no plastic surgery to the face (but he says I can get my boobs plumped to the size of watermelons if I want! What a nice guy!)

I hereby resolve to consider every day an adventure. Our trip to Mammoth wouldn’t have been the same if the power didn’t go out on a blizzardy night. Who needs electricity when you can have a romantic dinner by fire light? And shoveling snow is much more fun if you consider yourself a great explorer like Lewis and Clark; trekking your way through the unpredictable terrain of undiscovered America.

And lastly, I hereby resolve to take more photos and write more crazy stories about this imperfect adventure I'm on: life.

Monday, January 3, 2011


If you live where I do, that means sunshine and sandy beaches on Christmas.

It means indulging in sweets and snacks. Or maybe a 6.5 lb. USDA prime cut of Prime Rib at $26.99/lb. (you do the math), and being able to share this once-in-a-lifetime meal with your loving family.

It means presents and surprises. Some come wrapped in festive paper, while others come wrapped in a fleshy womb. Don’t they look thrilled?

I hope everyone’s holidays were as special as mine were, and here’s to an awesome 2011!
I’ve just had a great little break from my normal work/blog/run/fly/read routine, and it’s made me reflect on how special the time around the holidays is.