how sad is my site? don't even have the gumption to write its own fairwell. so...
I will miss being Jill Matrix. I'll miss that little swimmer kid particularly. But for a lot of reasons, it's time to shut this site down.
I'd thank all the people who have helped me for the past three years by name, but I know I'd forget someone and feel terrible.
Thanks for reading me. Thanks for all the comments and emails. Thanks for helping me when my coding didn't work or my site was being held hostage by Verisign. Thanks for getting me involved in projects that brought lots of new readers to this site. Thanks most of all for rooting for me.
I'll miss everyone, but you can still get my deeply bitter take on the news of the day over at Queer Day or drop me a line. (E-mail is still jill@jillmatrix.com. AIM is JillMatrix.) See you in the funny papers.
on the whole my general disposition leans toward diplomatic – calm, weighing, understanding, with an ability to dilute the shocking with a dose of sublime reason. physically though, i am an entirely different story. i am a knot of wood. tense with thickened and gripping fibers who have tripped over themselves to create coagulated quagmires of bundled flesh – in the neck, back, chest, shins, everywhere really. now and again i pinch my shoulder blades together, stretching my chest just to hear my sternum pop, to buy a little relief.
i can’t figure out why there is this disparity between physical and mental.
is this the result of avoiding years of conflict? the depression of a truer self, a getting-medieval-on-your-ass self, a flying-off-the-handle self, a quicker tempered self? is my ferklempt body a collected manifestation of denied outbursts? there have been a few occasions when i have been off the handle, though i can’t say i recalled a calming after effect – nothing that i would associate as muscle relaxing. i did say fuck alot. however i am unsure of a more substantial answer.
recently i asked whether morgan freeman could help. i’m always looking for new ways to relax. and if i could procure his voice over for my thoughts, similar to his narration of shawshank redemption, i might be able to unwind a bit, the way i had hoped sauna’s, pilates, and massages should’ve allowed. it could work y’know. i just pray his agent will return my call.
you meet new people and it’s not long before the question congeals in to the conversation. and while i love the shinning and focused spotlight of others, it’s one question i’d ffwd right over if i could.
i'm not ashamed of my job, but i won't lie -- my work life, in terms of entertainment or impression factor, not so fascinating. i’m not exactly telling people i’m a doctor, or a lawyer, or a policeman, or a writer, or any other easily recognizable career category. and to add a pinch of confusion to the mundane, i've yet to find an elegant way of saying "i’m a copy/regulatory project manager for a health care organization."
huh? what? it doesn’t exactly roll of the tongue, does it. and it’s almost as if i didn’t answer the question, instead giving the inquirer a poke in the belly. the ensuing blank stare is predictably followed by a sympathetic courtesy nod and an “a-ha,” signaling the time to move on to someone else, hoping maybe to find a teacher, editor, or account manager to talk to.
but really, what do i do? well, i’m a sort of prophylactic editor.
the process starts when our writers and editors craft wicked cool marketing copy. the kind of copy that alters the brain’s chemical combination of want to unquestionable need. powerful, mesmerizing, can’t-say-no-to copy. for instance, say they came up with this copy here (they wouldn’t because this is taken from a bottle of juice i bought this morning. but for the example say they did):
to every man, woman & child moving 100 mph in this crazy 10-lane highway-world, with no off-ramp for nourishment, naked food-juice delivers your daily dose of vitamins, energy & yum. these are the bare essentials to satisfy your body, psyche & soul. if you eat or drink nothing else...get naked.
sounds pretty good, eh.
and it’s here where i come in.
it seems the californian state has vested interest in not letting things sound too good to be true. or simply too good, particularly when it comes to doctors and medicine. in fact they spend a decent amount of tax payer dollars on operating a department that regulates the industry and its entire allotment of persuasion used for marketing their services. it turns out the state does this because some people, members in our very own society, well they’re just not smart enough to discern on their own.
the main objective of my job is to make sure copy that eventually lands in the hands of the public doesn’t get my organization in trouble with this bureaucracy and it’s ability to fine us kagillions of dollars. we really don’t want the blame for them driving around our freeways at 100 mph. so what i do is modify the copy slightly -- a tweak here or there – transforming our example into something like this:
if you are a man, woman, or child moving no faster than 65 miles per hour on a freeway, with no off-ramp for nourishment, naked food-juice helps deliver some of your daily dose of vitamins, energy and yum. these bare essentials may satisfy your body, body psyche & soul. if you eat or drink nothing else...get naked.*
*getting naked by itself does not assure that you have the appropriate amount of daily nourishment needed to sustain a healthy diet. please consult your dietician to learn more about a healthy and balanced diet.
yeah, i know. just like a condom – it doesn’t feel quite as good. but in my line of work, you’re better off safe than sorry.
