I know my name sounds like a stripper name but it is legitimately what I was given at birth and my parents made no connection to the alcoholic beverage I share a name with and thus am always introducing myself as, “Jamieson, like the Whisky,” even though it is spelled different (mine is the Scottish variant, like the word whisky (which refers to Scottish and Japanese origin) vs whiskey (which is for the Irish and everywhere else)). I have a tattoo that says ‘whisky’ on my forearm that I got when I was seeing a guy that could never not spell my name like the drink he loved. I don’t even like whisky, fernet is my drink of choice.

I’m from San Francisco (or at least that's what I say, but really I grew up across from the Golden Gate Bridge in a place called Marin County that is as beautiful as it is wealthy and all my classmates were kids of rockstars or CEOs that made me feel poor because my family didn’t have a house in Tahoe and I’ve never skied.) Now I live in Chicago (because I went to SAIC, duh) where I see how warped my sense of wealth is because no one would dare call me middle class here (but I am pretty wise with my finances and pretty frugal so don’t get it twisted that I’m living some life of ultimate luxury). I’m not afraid to admit my parents still help me out more than they should but I spend my days painting, so is it really a surprise? And I know most of you SAIC kids are in the same position so just embrace is already and stop pretending to be poor and gentrifying this city (I know you guys aren’t all rich but you’re just fooling yourself if you think we can’t tell the difference between performative and actual struggle).

Being on my phone and collecting screenshots like a squirrel and her nuts (the squirrels on my street love me and my landlord who loves me because I love the squirrels too (sometimes they sleep on my deck and I find nibbled pea pods and tracks in the snow leading up to the third floor)). I hate computers. They’re too powerful and I don't like being at war. I print everything out and hang it on my wall like a crime map until one calls to be painted with true crime podcasts echoing because music tends to bore me (I can make it a couple hours with just music but inevitably return to the comfort of slaughtered women).

It’s literally in front of you, just look, I don't have time to explain. But I will say Eve Babitz and that's all you get.    

I paint because I have an ego that needs to be fed and that's the way to be remembered, right?

Wake up

Paint

Remind myself to eat

Make an omlet

Paint

Nap

Snack

Paint

Make a trader joes meal

Paint

Wash my face (this routine is the most important to my sanity)

Listen to boat disaster videos as I fall asleep with my rabbit

(there used to be smoke weed between every other line but 2025 has been the year of building my tolerance back up and being sick of recurring bronchitis where im coughing up black soot)

Amber Heard. She is the most beautiful woman in the world and anyone who says otherwise must have a blindness to perfection or is too jealous to admit it.

Sometimes I forget to have one, but ultimately pretty cool, sexy, and average.

Dying. I think I’d like to be reborn as a tornado.

Optional?

I make and eat an omelet every day (with bacon, spinach, and feta) because it is the best way to ensure I am ticking off every notch of the food pyramid and I have become a master at cooking the perfect omelet because it is literally the only thing I know how to cook (I was a very spoiled child who never did her own laundry until I was forced to in the 162 dorms at SAIC (you can’t judge me because at least I'm honest)).