Cleaning Out My Closet:

It's "Dirty Folk Rock Fashions" Thursday

I'm trying to clear out some of my stage fashions and since I'm getting married and all, I figured why not sell this stuff. Weddings aren't cheap, ya know. They cost like, 1 billion dollars.

I have lots of good clothes, too. I've even been celebrated for my great fashion sense, believe it or not.

Most of my clothing is for the "ladies" and I put it in parenthesis because, who knows if they are really ladies or not? Plus, it can also be for men who dress like ladies and for the new third gender too, I'm not even going to take a stab at how to refer to them because I'll probably eff it up and offend a whole generation of sexy manladypeople. If you know, please share in the comments section. And of course, "men" are totally welcome to buy some of this stuff too, to please their "ladies" or moms or grannies or wear themselves.

I think I just came up with a killer tag line:

"Dirty Folk Rock Fashions - Great for grannies and trannies."

Today on Dirty Folk Rock Fashions:

These lovely lady gloves are an NJ estate find. They are very nicely trimmed along the edge with black "waves" and are cut asymmetrically at the bottom. Great for burlesque or just wearing to look damn fine. They are brown, made of very soft synthetic fabric. They are vintage gloves, they do not smell old or musty and they have a tag inside of them that says, "Made In Germany". They are sized at 6 and 1/2 in the tag. I would call them a small to medium size.

You can buy them here and now for $15.00.

To see other items I have for sale, visit me on eBay. I am building up my eBay page and hope to have lots of stuff up there soon. As always, I'm also doing an outdoor Dirty Folk Rock Fashions sale this Saturday to clear out some of this stuff, so please feel to stop by the intersection of Ludlow and Canal if you are in NYC and check out my vintage stage wear. You'll find dresses, shoes and pretty vintage clothing, mostly ranging in size from 6-12.

If you'd like to see someone else's great finds, check out this gorgeous leather jacket on Farmhouse Garden, my sister's Etsy page. I like her style very much. She's also a great seamstress, collects and sells many sewing patterns and makes a lot of her own clothing, so if that is your thing, check out the nice little web community she is helping to build.

Delfino's Dungeon of Schwag Goodie Giveaway

+ Free Advertising

I have a giant collection of schwag such as pretty colored guitar strings, vibrators, stickers, CDs, tee shirts and more that companies, friends, sponsors and what have you have given to me over the years and it's time to do a little fall cleaning.

So I'm passing the goods onto you. I am giving away 2 schwag bags full of goodies to 2 of my readers. Who will it be? To win this schwag, it is so easy. Just do what the nice lady tells you to do:

1. Follow me on Twitter http://twitter.com/jessicadelfino and tweet: Follow @jessicadelfino for a chance to win a schwag bag including guitar strings, sexy toys and other goodies. Follow me on blogger or like my Facebook page.
2. Comment on this post with your name and email address (like this: "so and so at gmail dot com" so the spam bots don't get it, or you can post your Twitter handle).
3. Contest will run until Oct. 15th, 2011. I’ll be drawing 3 winners via electronic raffle.
4. Free advertising for you! I'll post the winner and their website here on my blog and on my Facebook page, and contact the winner via the email address left in the comment section.

Let's do this. Who wants pretty colored guitar strings and a vibrator, dammit?

10 Things I Hate About Myself

I wrote a post a few months ago about just a small sampling of the things I hate about Florida and not so surprisingly, it got the most comments I've had on a blog entry in awhile. Most of the comments were appreciative, because most people agree that Florida is the most "fart stain like" state in the 50 states and I will stand by that sentiment.

However, one anonymous person got upset enough by the post to leave this comment:

This is so dumb "wal-mart people"? What ? Lets write 10 things you hate about yourself

By Anonymous on FIVE THINGS I HATE ABOUT FLORIDA I've hated Flori... on 9/25/11

I was delighted! And I accept this challenge. Please enjoy, "10 Things I Hate About Myself",

inspired by the boner that obviously has never seen the beauty and art that is PeopleOfWalmart.com.

(I love calling people boner, it is what my dad used to call my sisters and I as kids and I've never

outgrown how hilarious I think that it is to refer to someone as a boner.)

NOTE: I'd like to add I am really playing devil's advocate here. I am all about self love, Whitney Houston style, and I am very happy, most of the time. I'm just digging around to do a little self exploration. Voila.

1. I hate my face. I have had a lot of time to get used to my face. I know every crooked crevice, I

know about my weird teeth that are exactly like my grandfather's teeth, I know about the little

irritating chicken pock scars that disguise themselves as "character" and the various moles

which if I were just one point uglier on the ugly scale would be brutally held against me. I am okay with

myself as a human, but I am so tired of my own face. One angry weirdo on Facebook recently

described me in a vicious rant as "plain looking" and I agree so much my neck is about to make

believe fall off from metaphorically nodding. Why couldn't I be born with a nose like a dirt road in

Italy or eyes like shimmering compact discs? A chiseled chin or aggressive eyebrows? Anything

at all would be better than the utter normalcy I've come to find disgusted comfort in.

2. I hate my fear of flying. I've heard of these people who do this thing where they get on planes

without incident and go places. I sweat and shake for weeks up to the departure date, I can't enjoy

my trip for the entirety of the trip because I'm fearing the return flight, and then I wheeze and

nervously look around for cracks in the fuselage until I'm running down the tarmac screaming,

"We did it!" after landing. I just can't help but internally insist that fate has something very special and extra

horrific planned for me and I really don't want any part of it.

3. I hate how I little I've achieved in my life. I look around and I see failure in everything

I do. My friends and family and peers are constantly reminding me how much I've done but all I see is the

black void where mountains of success should be. "But you make people laugh, that is so important" some shit head

says to me from time to time, and I respond by sitting hard on the fist that is urgently pursuing the

fleshiest part of their face. Me making people laugh is the absolutely least I could have done with

my life. And I'm not broke but I sure ain't rich. But at least I've done slightly more than nothing at all.

4. I hate how negative I am deep down inside, and not so deep inside. Underneath this

excruciatingly plain face and hair and these cornflower blue eyes lies a dark and twisted person full

of hazardous thoughts. I self-medicate with yoga, salad, creativity, love, therapy and work addiction, so I

manage to avoid falling into those emotional tar pits for the most part. But they're still there. Where

do you think those dark, demented songs and jokes come from? A happy life and a chipper childhood?

5. I am too aware of my faults. I wish I could go back to being 4 years old when climbing trees was

the most important agenda of the day. But I can't. And I will die at some point, never having been

able to go back to that time. It's gone. And I hate that. And that is a flaw. And there are a million

others where that one came from. For example:

6. I can't cook. I was recently going to try out for the show "America's Worst Cooks" because I am

bad at cooking. Everything I cook tastes like cereal and toast and undercooked eggs, because that's

what it is. I can make peanut butter and jelly with some skill, and I don't burn pasta anymore, but I

will add spirulina to everything I eat until the day I die and if I could blend and eat every meal in

smoothie form I would.

7. I am a terrible sick person. When I am sick, I cry and whimper, and I am helpless and baby like.

I make everyone around me wait on me and help me. I reduce my voice to a whine and really ham it

up so that my boss and anyone else I come in contact with will hear the cold in my voice and will

immediately send me home to have some chicken soup. When other people around me are sick though

and try those tricks, I get mad and selfish for my own health. I grumble and say, "Why aren't you

home? You're going to make everyone sick." And by "everyone" I mean "me".

8. I am selfish and exhibit myriad other flaws of humanity. Is this getting too deep? Should

I be writing funnier flaws?

9. I have an ethnic fro. Everyone always says to me, "Your hair is so beautiful!" and that punching

fist starts getting ornery again. You want my hair, I want your hair. I have pubic hair hair. I have

literally pulled out a hair from my head and it was a foot long pubic hair. That is the opposite of

beautiful to anyone except perhaps Larry Flynt. Big, wiry, thick, curly, weed-like, naturally dreading

bird's nest hair is my lot in life, along with issues 1-8, and many, many more.

10. I'm too nice. I just wanted to throw that one in because that's the one that women always

say. "I'm too nice," they say, after their boyfriend broke up with them and they left his man parts

in tact. I don't think that's anyone's real life problem, ever. I think that is a problem that you say

when a boss asks you to outline your short comings.

And there you have it, "anonymous", if that's your real name - 10 Things I Hate About Myself. Now it's your turn!

Ukuleles Are Fun (with Mermaids)

I wrote a new ukulele theme song for the re-generation of uke lovers out there, keeping in mind the old timey uke sounds of yesteryear. It's called, "Ukuleles Are Fun (with Mermaids), and it's jaunty, fun, and PG clean, because I have lots of little new friends now who hear me on podcasts and then ask why I say bad words (Insert Kirstie Alley style bang blow here). I tell them it's because there's no Santa, and then I sip whiskey out of a flask, all Krusty the Clown like, that I keep hidden in a carved out bible.

Enjoyyeeeee!

I'm leaving tomorrow for a 5 day retreat in my home town in Maine to sit, write, drink wine, relax, swim, hang out in a boat or on a beach, get the crud eaten out of me by the skeeters, catch up with some old high school pals and write a ton of new songs and jokes. Well, that's the plan, anyway. I'll end off the ordeal with my sister's weekend Maine wedding, and then I'll scurry back to the city all refreshed and loose for two weeks until I need another vacation.

So if you don't see me online for a few days, I didn't quit social media, I'm just, like, in the woods, man, and I don't have modern devices like internet stations and cell phone operations. I can't wait. It gets so dark and quiet there it's like you're in outer space. Except you're not. You're in Maine.

Freeze Dried Pets

Here, Cisco listens to his favorite Huey Lewis and the News jam for ever.

Yesterday, I went to TriBeCa, one of the coolest parts of town to teach a ukulele lesson to these really cool artsy women who are, well, let's just say doing pretty well in life, who live in those huge fantasy lofts that are sorta unheard of nowadays unless you want to pay like, 10 gs a month on them, with those giant windows that drench everything with that golden yellow sunlight, brimming full of gorgeous antique furniture and objects d'art, like velvet couches and polished wardrobes and a freeze dried cat...wait, what?

Yes, you read correctly, freeze. dried. cat.

I noticed it when we first sat down but I refused to let my brain believe what I was seeing, so I just ignored it and chirped all smily about getting our ukes out and tuning them up. However, my eye line kept returning to the cozy kitty in an eternal sleeping position atop a table. Finally, my brain said, "Believe it, bitch" and I did. I actually stopped the lesson in a somewhat comical way, something like this...

"Now, you may find the Bb chord is kind of tricky at first, but with practice, your fingers will be able to easily find their way to it, and um, I'm sorry, but is that a dead cat on top of your table?"

My student stopped, smiled slightly and nodded her head lightly, as if she'd been asked that question a million times.

"Everyone always comments on the cat," she said, "but no one ever seems to care about the armadillo." I looked around the room for this armadillo, and found it way up high on top of a 14 foot tall china cabinet, turned around so you could only see part of it. Hey, maybe if Armi the armadillo was curled up into a bowl shape with pretzels in it a stone's throw away, I might have noticed him. But he's not and the cat is, so here we are.

"Mr. Lucky," she said, indicating the cat had a name. "He's freeze dried." I mean, I'm weird and wacky, but this was even beyond my odd mentality in some ways. I do have plans to have myself mummified at my own funeral so that I'm wearing my favorite red suit holding my guitar in one hand with a "rock" hand symbol raised above my head with the other. And I get and even appreciate taxidermy to a certain extent. But freeze drying your pet cat? I'd just never heard of anything like it before.

"Is it your cat?" I asked. "No," she said. "It was someone's cat," she explained. I didn't want to suck up too much time as I was being paid by the hour and paid well, so I just let it go at that.

When I got home, I googled "freeze dried pets" and I came up with this. You must click to see, because words can't describe the feeling it gives you in your "oh my" part of your brain.

One thing I love about life is that every day we have the chance to see and learn and do something different and new. Sometimes it's something kinda weird, illegal or just plain wild. But it's always something new.

*New*

Dirty Folk Rock Fashions Lilac Dress

I've been selling my vintage stage outfits (and pieces I collected for the stage but never wore for some reason or another) and it's been a lot of fun. I've got the "sell" in my soul, my mother used to sell vintage items, antiques and what not to take care of us when we were kids.

She'd find a dresser in the garbage of a friend of mine's house and pull up in front of it, humiliatingly shining the headlights onto it and through their kitchen window as they watched in wonder. "Grab the other end of this," she'd command, and I'd obediently slink out of the car and help, utterly mortified.

I can't wait to pass memories like this on to my kids. Hopefully they'll be better kids and more understanding than my sisters and I were.

My mom used to also have barrels of vintage clothes. I don't know why she kept them in barrels, but she did. Every so often, she'd bust out a barrel, dust it off and crack open the top. Inside were flapper dresses, high heels, furs, hats with lace and rhinestones on them, long gloves and more. We would dress up and goof off for hours as my mom took pictures and helped us try things on.

Still to this day, I love dressing up. I was wearing a regular old pair of pants and a normal shirt the other day and I ran into a friend at a show. He said, "You look so plain I didn't recognize you!" Guess I better start stepping up my game.

Come check out the things I have on eBay. While on tour, during my spare time, I'd peruse shops and collect great vintage finds at estate sales, thrift stores, yard sales, some of them were gifts, such as a pair of red roller skates I'll probably post soon. I have a purse that Tyra Banks gave me which I may sell soon, as well. I had two, I gave one away to Julie Atlas Muz.

I don't have to sell this stuff, but I want to make room for new things, get rid of some older items and clear out the closet. I'm purging, one might say.

Here's a pretty flowered Laura Ashley "Pretty In Pink" style dress. I love this one, it's so delicate and lovely. But it's too small for me in the middle. I thought I might lose enough weight to wear it in some temporary anorexic spell, but it never happened. I just like eating too much.

Most recently, I posted this purple 70s princess coming out gown. Bidding starts at $3. Enjoy!

Next week I'll be in Maine on a writing retreat / home town visit / sister's wedding. I promise to bring back some new goodies to share!

A Visit To The 9/11 Memorial on 9/12

It was a beautiful day today. The weather was almost exactly as perfect as it was on 9/11/01. A friend called me yesterday to ask if I wanted to go to the 9/11 Memorial opening today. He said his party of friends had an extra ticket. So of course, I went, partially out of curiosity, and partially because I was here in NYC when 9/11 went down and I have seen all the changes that have taken place in the city since then. I wanted to pay my respects to those who suffered, as well.

I got there early and waited, and while I was standing around, I got interviewed by about half a dozen camera crews, as I had a rare 9/11 memorial ticket. They are "free" (they ask for a donation, and who will refuse?), but they are hard to get, as so many people are visiting the memorial right now, they are booked up for well into October, according to the website at www.911memorial.org. I know with some certainty that I will be on Channel 11 news tonight at 5 PM, and Fox 5 borrowed some of the video footage I shot, which should be aired as well. I will upload the video to my YouTube channel soon.

On the morning of 9/11, my sister had flown into JFK to visit me for the weekend. When I saw the smoldering tower and heard a plane had hit the building, I immediately thought of my sister, who I was taking the above ground 7 train to meet at the airport, and began to get nervous. I had my video camera with me so I could record her arrival, but I instead used it to film footage of the 2nd plane hitting the building.

At the airport, my sister's plane was unaccounted for, and so was she. I couldn't get her on the phone and I had no idea where she was. I began to panic. I couldn't get in touch with my boyfriend, I couldn't get in touch with my family, the subways were closed and taxis were impossible to catch. I finally made it back to my apartment where I worried and feared for my sister's life for hours. I remember the gut wrenching agony I went through, hoping she was OK. Later, I learned her plane had been rerouted to Maryland and I finally was able to breathe again. I was so fortunate that day to have been able to reconnect with a loved one I thought was gone. So many others weren't as fortunate.

As I walked around the memorial, I found myself become overwhelmed with tears. I had a video camera rolling and filmed my whole visit, which I'll put up on YouTube soon. The site is beautiful, and it is very sad to see two large gaping holes there; two wounds our city will never heal from. They are metaphors for the scars so many of us still have. I was definitely traumatized by those events. I had horrifying nightmares for weeks. I'm a sensitive person, (also known as a "baby" in certain circles) and I was petrified to ride the subway, take public transportation, etc. I'd jump at loud noises or hissing sounds. I couldn't look away from the posters of victims and lost loved ones hanging on almost literally every wall downtown.

Ten years later, I am not fearful of the area anymore. I'm a braver person who has experienced a decade of rejection, betrayal, trauma and pain, and it has served me well. What won't kill you will make you stronger, "they" say, and I bet "they" learned that from experience, too.

At the memorial, I saw none other than one Mr. Dick Cheney. I felt a lot of emotion well up inside of me when I saw him. I thought about yelling something out to him about having a lot of nerve showing his face there, or some other 1950s-type insult, but that was the me of a decade ago, who I guess I briefly met up with, as being there allowed me to time travel in a sense, back to 2011. Plus, if I'd yelled at him, I wouldn't have been able to snap his photo for my evil political henchmen photo collection. He is now officially #2, alongside Dominic Strauss-Kahn.

Instead of casting hate his way, I pitied him. He looked worn and haggard. He looked old and sad. He was thin from going through his many health problems and he is surely not far from meeting those souls he was paying some sort of respects to, in his own way. He must have profound amounts of sadness and regret in his heart, or what's left of it, in ways many of us can't even relate to, and hopefully will never have to relate to. How can a human go through the kinds of ordeals and make the types of decisions he had to make and not feel remorse and regret?

So, no, I didn't "spit on him" as one Facebook commenter suggested. One can only hope that through this tragedy, the world is a kinder, more tolerant place. Who am I to hope for those changes if I can't offer that kind of tolerance and compassion myself?

And I tell people I'm not a hippie.

Do You Guys Do This?

Photo borrowed without permission from

SocialAnxietyRelief.Blogspot.Com

I find that I change my "style" to fit specifically what I'm targeting, instead of "just being myself" all the time, aka, I'm living a bit of a chameleon lifestyle. Unfortunately, just being myself gets me in trouble and alienates people sometimes, and I don't really love getting into trouble and alienating people. Sure, it's impossible to please everybody, but I sure do try. I don't know why I have such a hard time with people disliking me or my work, and over the years it doesn't sting as much as it used to, but I would rather have friends than enemies, where it seems so many people I meet are ready to do battle first.

I like being playful and sassy and saying whatever crazy thing I want to say, but when I do that, people treat me like I'm some kind of social r*ta?d. I feel like I can't even really swear these days without someone getting p!$$3d off about it.

I mean, don't get me wrong - I can totally talk to people! I have friends! Or, at least I think I do. (Do the voices in my head count?) I can interact with people of the opposite sex in romantical ways (sometimes more than one at a time, even), and I like animals (often more than humans, is that bad?). I have compassion, and I can cook (spaghetti and toast) and I enjoy hosting parties (of 2-5 people max) and I can deal with crowds (10 people max) and the only real phobias I have are spiders and flying, (and home invasions). But still, something is clearly awry.

Just about the only places I've found where I feel really comfortable, where I feel like it is 100% ok to completely be myself are in the faraway sexually liberated land of the UK, or on stage, or around my family. In every work place, in every formal or semi-formal setting, around groups of people talking (especially when there's one funny unfunny a-hole making bad jokes, I mean besides me), every where else, I feel I have to "button up" a bit or else someone is going to take something I said in a very wrong way. I've read that this could be described as a social disorder, perhaps a light touch of Hamburger's Disease or whatever it's called, but I have been going to therapy for a long time, and I have asked several different therapists to pin point all the things that are wrong with me, and they all say that I appear to be normal.

So there.

But then, wait a minute -- is "being normal" feeling out of place in 80% of social situations? Do you guys do that?

"The Lower East Side Queen of Obscene"

...and Short Notice

+ Ukuleles Are Fun mp3

I have a few friends who often give me guff about always inviting them to shows at the last minute. "Why can't you give me a few days notice?", they ask. Well, it's because a few days ago, I was telling someone else about some other thing at the last minute, obviously. The Village Voice once called me the "Lower East Side Queen of Obscene" but what they meant to call me was the "Lower East Side Queen of Obscene and Short Notice". Ba-dump bump.

That being said, TONIGHT I am doing a few shows that I wanted to talk about. One is called "Forbidden Kiss" and it's a sex themed show at a lovely little theater in midtown. A nice woman runs it, it's kind of a "mom and pop" theater, but without the pop. She's a very interesting lady and the theater is quite nice. If you like to see how ambitious some people can be, come check out this theater, and of course, this show, tonight at 8 PM.

All info is in my calendar, I'll put it again here, now:

Saturday, Sept. 10
Forbidden Kiss
"A theatrical erotica show" aka
a naughty show about naughty stuff
Stage Left Studio
214 W. 30th St. 6 Fl.
8 PM

I'm also really excited to be part of this very interesting event called the "Manhattan Wonder Walk" that is a 14 hour long walk around the city of NY. I'll be surprising the walking crowd around 11 PM tonight somewhere downtown with a spontaneous performance. You can find more information about that here:

Saturday, Sept. 10
Wonder Walk NYC
All Day Sat, Various Locations
Check Website

So I guess that's about it for now. For those of you who read down this far, I'd like to reward you with a new song I wrote and uploaded to my ReverbNation page. It's PG rated!! What? Yes. But that's no reason for you not to enjoy it. I insist.

Dirty Folk Rock Fashions

There are those people out there who try to do it all. There is an expression about them. It goes, "Jack of all trades, master of none". I am one of those jacks.

I love to do a lot of different things, due to an acute case of ADD, and one hobby I enjoy is collecting vintage finds at thrift stores. I often wear them on stage, or just swoop them up to add to my massive collection. Call me a hoarder if you like, names don't hurt me. The truth is, my family has a touch of the 'horde', but somehow I manage to keep my dis(h)order under control.

One thing I like to do is have little "yard sales" in front of my apartment building in NYC. Every so often, the cops come and kick me back inside, but not before I've sold off literal arm loads and bags full of clothing to my bargain hunting neighbors. This summer I did pretty well, but I was gone a lot, so I didn't get as much wheeling and dealing in as I'd hoped to.

Another such way I like to relieve myself of my various thrift store gems is eBay. Recently, I started posting some of my wares, and I'd like to share the lot with you. Feast your eyes on this large 60s navy blue swiss dot dress, this cowboy hat, and a couple of floral vintage 80s dresses.

The clothes and shoes I choose have some interesting story to them; most are vintage, all are unique in some way. Many of them I wear or have worn on stage somewhere in the US or overseas. I call them "Dirty Folk Rock Fashions" and even have made a cute label for them.

I must admit I have a pretty impressive closet / collection of vintage finds. And now I want to get rid of them, please. Thanks for looking.

NOT SO LABORIOUS LABOR DAY WEEKEND

+ JD on Curb Your Enthusiasm (huzzah)

I spent the weekend in PA and NJ doing family stuffs. I saw my mom and some other family members. One fun thing I did was drive to the 'burbs with my friend in his rickety Jeep that he's had for about 15 years (since high school) for a family birthday party. Once there, I played ukulele and guitar with some family friends and we all sang together cumbaya style, for hours. It was actually a lot of fun, as corny or nerdy as it may sound.

We also went to a flea market and I tried to buy a ukulele off a guy who I think was a Vietnam vet, or at least he had that look in his eye and in his facial hair. He was talking to himself with fervor and angst when I arrived at his table, and tried to sell me one of his ukuleles for $70 which are sold on Amazon.com for $40 a piece. When I offered him $100 for all three, he went all POW MIA on me and I evacuated the premises with a swiftness normally reserved for emergency situations. I almost felt sorry for him for being such a lunatic, I mean, crazy people have to make a living too, right? Except that he yelled at me with such zest, a man nearby had to actually intervene, probably because he wouldn't sleep well after seeing a woman get punched by a demented ex-soldier. Who would? Besides, say, one of those Gaddafi-esque world leaders out there.

I also met a cool looking 92 year old woman who didn't look a day over 65. I tasted some ghost pepper chocolate which nearly made me crap myself, and I found a pair of vintage gloves in a garbage pile.

A friend tagged me in a photo he took from his TV last night of me in the background of Curb Your Enthusiasm. I normally don't do background work but I couldn't say no to CYE. They paid us really well, fed us lobster and I got to meet Larry David in an encounter that was even more awkward than I always imagined it would be. The camera people seemed to mess a thing or two up, because Larry is looking in one direction and the rest of the crowd is looking in another. Oopsies.

I've been watching this great TV show "Peep Show" at night before bed for the past few weeks. It's responsible for my poor performance at work and for my renewed devil-may-care attitude. I strongly suggest you all watch it on Hulu.com this instant.

In other news, I have about 15 mosquito bites on my legs after my recent Jersey trip, and I ate Thai food for dinner for what I think makes the third time in 6 days. It's been a good week.