Friday, August 31, 2007

I tried to be "in it" but it didn't take

I watched Garden State earlier and I thought if anything would depress me enough to write beautifully heart wrenching stories, it would be THAT movie, but here is what happened when I tried:

I think I fell in love with you while you were gone. We weren't even talking, aside from the few lines of email we managed to trade. Eventually I stopped writing because I wanted to see if you'd write me first, but you never did. Asshole.

Strike one. Next?

Remember the day we went to the park? We held hands and walked around the pond and when we saw a dead baby bird you started crying. So then I backed away, said I had an emergency, and never talked to you again. Pussy.

OK, strike two.

On the day of our wedding, you took my hand, looked me in the eye, and told me you'd never love another. Please explain to me why I caught you loving one of my bridesmaids in the limo during the reception. By the way, I sold your dog on eBay and used the money to buy a pony, which I am training to bite off your wiener. Bastard.

I give up. I don't think I'm cut out for heart wrenching.

I can't get a life if my heart's not in it

Heidi went home for the weekend and so I am left to my own devices, which Kat! seems to think will result in me doing the following until I have to go back to work on Tuesday: drink wine, surf the Internets, watch The Office, read, and go to the pool and the gym and I would be all PSHAW whatever, my life is way more interesting than THAT but it's not so I will save my PSHAWs for another occasion.

Actually, though, we don't have any wine and based on the whole non-necessity buying plan, I can't go buy any. Don't worry about me, though, we have both beer and vodka in the apartment. Also, this 151 dark rum I got in Grand Cayman like three years ago that I'm sort of afraid to drink, because every time I have just a little bit of it I forget a large portion of the evening.

And since Abigail says I can't go buy any more books until I read the ones I have, I decided to go to the library and get books for free! So there! I beat* the system. Take THAT, system!

So, I went to the library and wandered around aimlessly for two hours because every time I go to the library I forget the name of each and every author and book I have ever wanted to read. I ended up with Kurt Vonnegut, Michael Chabon, and Jacob Braff and I only got that last one because he's Zach Braff's brother and I'm hoping funny is genetic. Anyway, Internets, this is the time when I need you to give me book recommendations.

ALSO! Did you know that you can get CDs from the library? OK, you did, everyone knows that. But I always forget. So I got some CDs so I can steal music for free and it's mostly legal. Right? Sure, why not. No one will know, especially if you all keep your mouths shut.

You guys know how I'm really lazy, right? And how I procrastinate a lot? If not, hi. My name is Jennie and I'm lazy and I procrastinate. Nice to meet you. I also say fuck a lot. And douchebag. That's enough. Remember how my coffeemaker broke? The really nice one my parents got me for Christmas? The one my mom and Heidi gave me so much shit about never exchanging? Well, Internets, I am here to tell you that IT HAS BEEN EXCHANGED. A special thanks to Heidi who boxed it up and said to me, "THERE! Now that it's in the box, you're one step closer to actually TAKING IT BACK." So that's done. Only took me eight months! That's good for me, you don't even know. Also, thank you to the lady at Walmart who allowed herself to be BAMBOOZLED because I TOTALLY DID NOT GET THE SAME MODEL I BROUGHT IN! OH SNAP!

The reason I finally took it back is because Heidi's coffeemaker broke, too, and it was either give up coffee or take a trip to Walmart. And I'm afraid no coffee would give me permanent Bitchface, so it was off to Walmart I went and if you understood just how much I hate Walmart you'd know what a big deal that is. I swear, Heidi and I have MURDERED so many household appliances. We have broken the following in our year and a half of living together: oven, freezer, dishwasher, toilet, garbage disposal (TWICE!), my old old coffeemaker, my old new coffeemaker, Heidi's coffeemaker. Wow, that looks like a lot when it's all listed like that. Oh, and also the chair in the living room, which someone broke (I don't remember who) and then Heidi's dad fixed it and then I broke it again and then my dad fixed it. And then I found five dollars.

Last night, Heidi and I just happened to be at the gym while The Office was on, so that's what we watched while we did the elliptical. Because if there is anything that could make me stay on the elliptical for 24 hours straight, it is this. OH MY GOD YOU GUYS! LOOK WHAT I JUST FOUND! JOHN KRASINSKI AND THE SHINS ON ONE COVER! WHY DIDN'T ANYONE EVER TELL ME ABOUT THIS?!? My god, what is UP with all the caps lock in this post? I had a lot of caffeine today. Lots. Lots and lots and lots.

Anyway, at one point during the show, I tapped Heidi on the shoulder and motioned for her to take her earphones off:

Me: What happened to the flat tire part?
Heidi: What?
Me: You know? When Pam changes the flat tire?

And she kind of nodded like, "shut up, fool, I'm trying to watch this," but YOU GUYS they took a whole SCENE out of the episode like no one would notice but they weren't counting on the fact that I have seen every episode at least FIVE TIMES. NO LIE. You know, I was going to try and calculate how much of my life I've devoted to The Office but I feel the number would be so large that I would be forced to never watch the show again and seriously? That is like the most depressing thing I've ever heard. Oh, so I just looked on here and apparently NBC did that on purpose. They took out other scenes and added new ones. I KNEW that line about tucking penises wasn't in the original broadcast.

Oh man. Shut up, Jennie. I bet after all that nonsense you guys wish you'd encouraged me to quit my blog.

*oh my god, you guys, true story? when I first typed that, I spelled it "beet" instead of "beat" OH MY GOD my brain is broken!

Thursday, August 30, 2007

faced with a dodo's conundrum

After nearly four years of babbling all over the Internets (seriously . . . four years . . . check it out), I fear I have run out of things to talk about. I mean, how many times do you need to hear me talk about going to the gym or spending an entire afternoon daydreaming or how I hurt myself all the time? How many different ways can I tell you that I procrastinate a lot? I'M RUNNING OUT OF WAYS.

I think I'm faced with two options. Option one? Quit my blog. Option two? Start talking more about personal stuff and my feelings and oh my god I just puked everywhere. I don't find either option particularly appealing.

I guess what I'm saying is, if you have any personal questions you've been DYING to ask me about any deep, dark secrets I have, now may be the time. Just realize that I reserve the right to deflect any question with a joke. Ha. Ha.

In the meantime, here's something new. Remember that rectangular pizza they used to serve in school lunchrooms? For some reason, they served it at Heidi's office yesterday and she brought home a piece for me and I ate it at 10 o'clock at night with a glass of wine while watching The Hills and if you try to judge me I will cut you.

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

I don't understand the numbers, but my faith is in the math

Sometimes I play this game at work. It's called How Long Can You Hold It. What I do is, I drink water all day long and then see how long I can sit at my desk without peeing my pants. Admittedly, this is a stupid game because the only loser is me. And if I lose, it means I have to walk around in pee-pants all day. And yet still I play. Whatever. I have to fill my day somehow and I can only twirl my hair, stare into space, and daydream for so many hours. OK, I could do that for all the hours, so it's a good thing I can almost pee my pants while I do all of that other stuff.

Last night, I was looking through all of my CDs, because I have a million articles to write by next Tuesday and I've run out of other ways to procrastinate. I think I even finished the Internets. True story. Anyway, I found this John Mayer mix CD I made sophomore year of college. All of the songs were downloaded illegally. Most of them are live versions or cover songs or songs that never appeared on any CDs that I know of. I think I actually have this CD somewhere full of mp3s I downloaded from Napster or AudioGalaxy or whatever it was the kids were using to download illegal music 5 years ago. I miss Napster. I mostly miss downloading things like the Rainbow Brite theme song in French because, hello . . . that's awesome. I don't know why I'm telling you all this. Do you really care that I found an old CD and have been listening to it all morning and wallowing in college-days nostalgia? I doubt it. I mean, I guess it's good that I've moved past listening to Coldplay and wallowing in self-pity, but wallowing is still wallowing, you know?

I don't know, either. I DO know that I wish I had waited another week to start my necessity-only spending plan. DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? Too bad, I'll tell you. ONE - The Threadless $10 sale goes until Monday and TWO - Season 3 of The Office comes out next Tuesday. And even though my Decider (Heidi) told me I'm allowed to buy The Office, I talked myself out of it because Christmas isn't that far away and also we have the majority of Season 3 saved on TiVo. If Heidi deletes them I have a tiny conniption fit because I like to watch the episodes over and over until I can know them by heart and can walk around reciting all my favorite lines. Actually, maybe that's why she deletes them. Hmm.

And just to make sure I won't go out and buy Season 3 of The Office in a moment of weakness, I went ahead and asked for it for Christmas. Yes, I sent my mom a Christmas list. Heidi made fun of me and said only 6-year-olds make Christmas lists but WHATEVER my mom ASKED for it because she likes to start Christmas shopping in January or something when everyone KNOWS you're supposed to wait until at least December 20th to buy any presents. Anyway, my Christmas list looked like this:

Season 3 of The Office
gift certificate to Threadless
gift certificate to Half-Price Books or CD Connection

and that is all because I am simple. Also, I made sure to tell my mom that I listed everything in the order of how much I wanted it. Merry Christmas, Internets. What do you want Santa to bring you?

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

You got no money for the petrol, that's what I heard

YOU GUYS. Gas went up again today. WTF? It was like, cheap yesterday and then today it was like BAM COME ONE COME ALL for some ass raping over at the gas station. I give up.

Speaking of no money, I have come up with a new experiment. We'll see how long this last but HERE IT IS. I have several upcoming events and I am very excited about all of them but they all require more money than I have at present. So I've decided that I'm only going to spend money on necessities for the next few months. This means, obviously, rent, bills, food (so I don't starve), bathroom products (so I don't smell), and clothing but ONLY if the clothing I have is falling apart at the seams. Alright, I'm not going to be that much of a hardass about it, but you know what I mean. In any case, I'm no longer allowed to run through Wendy's because I'm too lazy to cook food we have at our apartment or go to Target because I'm bored and buy a bunch of crap I don't need. Why, just today, I kept myself from buying every t-shirt on Threadless's website AND THEY ARE HAVING THEIR $10 SALE SO THAT'S SAYING A LOT. Breathe, Jennie.

Here's my dilemma. I realize that for a lot of (sad) people, books are not a necessity, but I would rather go without food than go without books so I think I'm going to say buying books is allowed but only if I do it at the used bookstore. This is OK, right?

I'm actually not allowed to make this decision on my own. Remember last year when Heidi and Mary made my decisions for me? I decided I liked that a lot better and Heidi also liked the idea so Heidi is going to make my decisions and I'm going to make her decisions. So far, no huge decisions have had to be made, but I'm totally ready to tell her NOT to tell Ross she's in love with him.

Monday, August 27, 2007

oooooo weeeeeee ooooooo weeeeeee oooooooo

Someone told me this song was about lesbians in high school and he sounded sure of himself so I believed him. Is this true or should I officially accept my title as Most Gullible Person in the World?

the worst part is over, now get back on that horse and ride

Yesterday, I had my last long day of volunteer training. I still have one more session on Wednesday, but it's not as long and all we're doing filling out paperwork and coloring. Yes, I said coloring. Yesterday's training session, though . . . oh mylanta. Because we're supposed to be helping these kids grieve, we all have to learn how to listen or whatever and this means we spend a lot of time talking about the deaths of our loved ones and our feelings and it makes me very uncomfortable. When it's my turn to talk I try to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Anyway, so I'm looking forward for the training to be over so I can stop talking about myself. Except for on here. Of course. Duh.

Saturday night Heidi's brother had a party so we hung out in the country. We drank red wine out of glass tumblers and I got to observe country boys in their natural habitat. It was interesting. They all have these trucks with giant tires on them and they'd hook them together and then play like . . . tug of war with them or something. I didn't understand the point, really, but it was entertaining, although at one point I commented that I thought they should just get a ruler, whip out their penises, and be done with it. But they just kept pulling trucks instead. Seems like a lot less work to me, but what do I know? I've never even driven a truck.

I also hurt myself playing beer pong. I'll bet you're wondering how that's possible. Well, see, here's the thing. We'd been playing cornhole before beer pong and just kind of stacked the cornhole boards right next to the beer pong table. I forgot we put them there and went running after a rogue ping pong ball and ran my knee right into one of the cornhole boards. I guess it hurt but I think my body is so used to me hurting it that it doesn't really register pain anymore.

Then I had a total Sophie's Choice moment. I was coming out of the bathroom when Heidi came running in all frantic like Patrick Oleson was chasing her. You guys, CONVERSATIONSWITHMYROOMMATE!

Heidi: Don't go back outside!
Me: Why?
Heidi: Because Scooter is going to ask you out.
Me: But my beer is out there!
Heidi: It's your call, but if you go out there, he's going to ask you out to dinner.
Me: But I barely talked to him all night!
Heidi: Yeah, well.
Me: Shit.
Heidi: Quick! Go in there and pretend to be asleep.
Me: Good call. Bye, beer.

Sigh. Poor beer. It was almost full, too.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

long story short (no, for real, you guys!)

Last night, I pretended to fall asleep/pass out in a guest room to avoid being asked out by someone named Scooter.

True story.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

what? everybody else was doing it

1. The phone rings, who do you want it to be?
It doesn't matter, I probably wouldn't answer it anyway.

2. When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart?
Yes, but only because I feel guilty when I look at the poor, scrawny cart boys standing around outside.

3. If you had to kiss the last person you kissed again, would you?
You know, I've given a lot of thought to this (lies) and I think I've come up with an answer: Shut up, Survey.

4. Do you take compliments well?
No. If someone compliments me on something, like say . . . my hair? What I really think they mean is, "oh man, your hair looks like shit but I'm going to compliment you on it because I feel sorry for you."

5. Do you play Sudoku?
I'm not even smart enough for crossword puzzles.

6. If abandoned alone in the wilderness would you survive?
I doubt it. In fact, I'd probably be the first one to be eaten by a bear or a lion or a rabid squirrel.

7. If your house were on fire, what would be the first thing you would save?
I should probably say Phoebe, right?

8. Who was the last person you slept in the bed with?
Phoebe. And now I'm incredibly depressed.

9. Who do you text the most?
Heidi? Man, this answer would have been way different like five months ago.

10. Favorite children's book?
The Giving Tree. Does A Wrinkle in Time count?

11. Eye color?
Blue. Or grey, according to Creepy IT guy at work.

12. How tall are you?
OK, here's the thing. When I went to the doctor a year ago, I was 5'2 AND THREE QUARTERS but yesterday they said I was 5'2 AND A HALF. So I'm shrinking. Already. Soon I will be 3'7.

13. If you could do it over again, start from scratch, would you?
God no.

14. Any secret admirers?
I really doubt it.

15. When was the last time you were at Olive Garden?
I don't remember, but I can't say I've missed it.

16. Favorite ex?
The eX-Files . . . wow, that was so lame. I apologize.

17. Where was the furthest place you traveled?

18. Do you like mustard?
I didn't think so, but then I found a bottle of grey poupon in the fridge and I tried it and it turns out I like it. So. There THAT is.

19. Do you prefer to sleep or eat?
Can I eat in bed?

20. Do you miss anyone?
I think I told you to shut up, Survey.

21. Can you do splits?
No, and I would probably break something if I tried.

22. What movie do you want to see right now?

23. What did you do for New Years Eve?
Went to Chicago. It was a weird night.

24. Do you think The Grudge was crappy?
I think? I don't really remember it.

25. Was your mom a cheerleader?

26. What's the last letter of your middle name?

27. Are you Hispanic?
Not that I know of.

28. Do you like Care Bears?
Let's put it this way . . . I still have a Care Bear from when I was a baby. It's the green one. I sleep with it every night. I used to call it my "Dabbledoo" because I couldn't say "bear." I'm going to stop before this gets any weirder.

29. What do you buy at the movies?
Duh, popcorn.

30. Do you know how to play poker?
Not at all. One time, I tried to learn and it did not sink in. Also, I suck at lying so I'm guessing I don't have much of a poker face.

31. Do you wear your seatbelt?
If I'm in the front seat.

32. What do you wear to sleep?
Shorts and a t-shirt.

33. Anything big ever happen in your CITY?
I don't know. One time they had these peace talks for Bosnia here and everyone was all "why are they doing that HERE? oh, right, cause there's nothing else to do except talk about peace."

34. Is your hair straight or curly?
Mostly straight. Sometimes annoyingly wavy.

35. Is your tongue pierced?
No. Ow!

36. Do you like Liver and Onions?
Never tried it, but I'm gonna guess NO.

37. Do you like funny or serious people better?
I dislike all people equally.

38. Ever been to L.A.?
I think? When I was in 3rd grade?

39. Who is on your mind right now?
Jim Halpert, but that's pretty much a given.

40. Any plans 4 tonight?
No, I'm grounded and have to stay in and write articles. WAH WAH WAAAAAH.

41. What are your favorite songs at the moment?

42. Do you hate chocolate?
I the opposite of hate chocolate. I want to have chocolate's babies and then eat them because they'd be made of chocolate.

43. What do you and your parents fight about the most?
Nothing, really, because I have grown up into a responsible adult (Bwaahaahaa!)

44. Are you a gullible person?
Well, this one time my dad convinced me that Vulcans were real. So I went to school and my 3rd grade teacher asked us what color blood is and someone answered "red," of course, and then I raised my hand and said, "except Vulcans . . . my dad says that Vulcans have black blood." So what does that tell you?

45. Do you need a boyfriend/girlfriend to be happy?
Not at all. Good thing, too.

46. If you could have any job what would it be?
Beer taste-tester.

47. Are you easy to get along with?
So easy. Hahaha.

48. What is your favorite time of day?
When I'm asleep. Is that sad? It sounds sad.

49. Are you generally a happy person?
For the most part.

Friday, August 24, 2007

and now a little something . . . for the ladies

DISCLAIMER: I used the words "speculum," "birth control," "periods," and "lube," in the following post. If you do not have a vagina, you may not want to read this. Actually, if you HAVE a vagina, you may not want to read this. You know what? Probably you should just run far, far away.

So I went to the hooha doctor this morning. It was as awesome as I expected it to be. It had actually been a long time since I'd gone. So long, in fact, that I had to call my mom and ask her what side of the street the was on because I couldn't remember. Although, that's not really a good indicator because I forget where everything is no matter how long it's been since I've been there. Like, sometimes I forget how to get to work even though I drive there every day. That is untrue. I'm sorry I lied. No, I'm not. My point is, I am crap with directions.

ANYWAY. My doctor was being all funny today. Like, there I am . . . in the stirrups, staring up at the ceiling and preparing myself for what comes next and all the sudden she holds up the speculum and is all, "See! It's not even as big as a penis!" Um, great? It's still made of METAL.

Also? I'm not really sure why I had to fill out that questionnaire because she asked me most of the questions again anyway. AND NOW I BRING YOU . . . Conversations with my Gynecologist*:

Dr: So, how's life?
Me: Good?
Dr: Good, good. And how are your periods?
Me: Good?
Dr: Good, good. They'll probably get worse when you're in your 30's.
Me: Great.
Dr: Or if you have a baby.
Me: OK.
Dr: What are your thoughts about babies?
Me: Oh god, I don't want them.
Dr: Haha! Ever or just right now?
Me: Um, definitely NOT right now. I haven't decided about ever.
Dr: Have you ever been on birth control?
Me: Yes, a couple of years ago.
Dr: Are you interested in going back on it?
Me: Yes. No babies.
Dr: Great.

So then she gave me a sample of birth control pills until I can pick up my prescription. Now. I did not have time to run home after my appointment and so I carried birth control pills around in my purse ALL DAY at work. Heidi said she thought only whores did that but what ELSE was I supposed to do with them? Leave them in the car? It's like 800 degrees outside! I was afraid they'd melt!

OK and then? I called my mom and I believe her exact words were, "So how was your lube job?" I'm not telling you this JUST to be crass, I think it's really important that you all see why I am the way I am. It's not my fault, I was RAISED this way.

*this blog has reached a new low

check it out, my phone will take 15 seconds worth of video

I am the one with the loudest voice (go figure). This was on the way back from the Reds game the other weekend and I was trying to get a video of this guy dancing but that black car got in the way. He was a dancing machine! So good! Anyway. I wish you could have seen his sweet moves, but I guess you'll have to settle for the interior of Heidi's car.

Okay, people, it's August a.k.a. the month when you're most likely to burn your face off.

This is FULL of useful information.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

Hi, I'm Chandler and I make jokes when I'm uncomfortable

YOU GUYS. Check this out:

Book Inscriptions

I'm totally published.

ALSO. It's hot outside. I don't like to sweat in my work clothes. Those clothes are not for sweating. These are the clothes for sweating: shorts, tank tops, t-shirts, sports bra, no clothes. That is all.

AND ALSO. When I got home from work just now, there was a hot guy in our apartment parking lot. I've never seen Hot Guy before, but he was hot and he was wearing a suit and he was carrying a man bag, but not like a girly man bag, like a Jim Halpert man bag. I felt like I should have asked Hot Guy in for a cold beverage, because wearing a suit must have been miserable, but he was on the phone. Actually, he was standing next to his car with the door open and when I pulled into the parking spot, I almost hit him and took his door off. Oops, but it was his fault, really, for standing there with his door open being all hot and distracting me. I mean, he almost made me forget the wine in my car and that would have been a tragedy indeed. I got wine because of this cellular phone device Conversation With My Roommate:

Heidi: Yes?
Me: I have several important questions for you.
Heidi: OK.
Me: One! Do you want to skip the gym tonight?
Heidi: Haha, YES.
Me: OK, good. Two! Do you want me to stop and get a bottle of wine on the way home?
Heidi: Um, of course.
Me: Awesome, because I am feeling the need to drink and drink until I never wake up.
Heidi: Wow, that's not good.
Me: Today was the LONGEST. DAY. EVER. Anyway, QUESTION THREE, do you want to have Papa Murphy's for dinner?
Heidi: YES.

So that happened. Do you all have Papa Murphy's? If not, then I feel sorry for you. It's take and bake (and I helped hahahahaha oh god, sorry). Anyway, you go there, they make the pizza while you watch and then you take it home and cook it. It's delicious and even better? It's so cheap. Cheap and easy. Just like your mom. Hahahahaha oh god, sorry.

But seriously, wtf, this is the longest week I have ever been a part of. It could be because we've had visitors in our office all week and I have to be nice to them and being nice is hard. Or that we had training yesterday and today. Or MAYBE it's because I'm so fucking tired. And the REASON I'm so fucking tired is because I have inexplicably woken up an hour before my alarm EACH AND EVERY DAY THIS WEEK and then I just lie there NOT SLEEPING. Until like three minutes before my alarm goes off so I hit snooze 19 times and then I'm late for work. Only I haven't been late to work, which is odd, because sometimes when I get up early and have all the time in the world, I'm still late to work. I don't know.

So I have to go to the lady doctor tomorrow. What a GREAT way to start my weekend. I'm really, really looking forward to having my vagina put on display and being poked and prodded with metal instruments. It's awesome. Those of you with vaginas know what I'm talking about. If this paragraph is offending you then you're probably not going to want to read what I write after tomorrow's appointment. Don't say I didn't warn you.

oh, balls

Is this week over yet?

Wednesday, August 22, 2007


I'm not sure if you guys knew this, but today was the longest day in the history of the world. True story. See, the thing is . . . I don't know. I don't know what the thing is. I just don't. Sorry.

So, we had this all day training thing at work today. It's for other people, actually, but our department is running it and even though my boss said it was optional I felt obligated to be there because, um, everyone else went. Which meant I was away from both my computer and cell phone for the majority of the day and my head might have exploded a little. Seriously. My brain kind of oozed out one of my ears. Not all of my brain, though. Obviously. Then I had to ask my boss if I could come in late on Friday because I have to go to the hooha doctor that morning and after I asked her I kept thinking, "say no, say no, I want to reschedule, I hate the hooha doctor," because, um, I DO hate the hooha doctor. Who likes the hooha doctor? If you do, there is something wrong with you. QUESTION. Why is the speculum made out of ice cold metal? Why not plastic? Or . . . um . . . silk? I don't know, but what I DO KNOW is that may be the first time I've ever written speculum on this blog, proving that after almost FOUR YEARS, there are still places I have not ventured. Good to know.

The problem with all this training today is that I already know how to do most of the stuff we were talking about. This is both good and bad. Good because if I want to sound smart, I can answer a question or throw in my two cents. But bad because since I already knew what they were talking about, I was finding it harder than usual to pay attention. At one point, I heard, "Jennie? Jennie . . . . . . . . JENNIE," and then I realized that everyone was staring at me and I had no idea why so I just sat there with a stupid grin on my face because in my head I had totally been flying around in a hot air balloon or some crazy nonsense. I think I have a problem. Maybe it's just ADD, but I'm pretty sure it's something they don't make a pill for.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

you give me that funny feeling in my tummy

Is it normal to be all bruised and beaten after a day of riding roller coasters? Because after Kings Island on Saturday, I had about a gazillion bruises, especially on my legs, but I think that was the fault of one ride in particular.

You guys, I was so (!) excited (!) to go to Kings Island. I hadn't been in years. And years. Years. Anyway. When we got there, I started to get a little too excited because of all the ROLLER COASTERS OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS DO YOU SEE THEM ALL THEY GO UPSIDE DOWN AND FAST. It was decided that if I got too excited, I would be taken to the merry-go-round until I calmed down. For the record, we only had to ride the merry-go-round once and I may have been more excited about that than anything else because every time I ride a merry-go-round, I hope that the horses will jump off just like in Mary Poppins. That didn't happen, though. We all named our horses. Kate's was McGillicutty. Heidi's was Lightning Jack (I think? It was Lightning something) and mine was Sandy. Sandy Vagina. Steve did not ride the merry-go-round because he is not secure in his manhood. Heh.

You wanna know what else? NO ONE, not ONE of my friends, would ride Delirium with me. APPARENTLY they didn't like the fact that it spins you in circles while swinging you back and forth like a pendulum but CLEARLY that is the best part. I wonder what it is that makes some people look at a roller coaster and think, "OH MY GOD I NEED TO RIDE THAT NOW," and others think, "Yes, I do believe I may die if I step onto that deathcar, so I will be staying here." Hmm. I've never really been scared to ride roller coasters, but I think in my case it has more to do with the fact that I'm sort of dumb and it's harder to scare dumb people. I think? I haven't put a lot of thought into this theory so POINT PROVEN, in my opinion.

I do have a bone to pick with Kings Island, though. Several bones, actually. What the hell does that even mean? Anyway.

FIRST OF ALL, they got rid of the antique cars! WHY GOD WHY?! I loved the antique cars! Sure, they replaced it with The Italian Job ride, which was awesome, but . . . antique cars. So fun.

Speaking of cars, we rode the bumper cars and they yelled at you if you didn't all go the same direction. What's that about? What fun are bumper cars if they're not flying around all wily-nily? Also, I don't know how this happened, but when we left the bumper car track, one of my feet was all black. I had to go to the bathroom to wash my foot off and let me tell you, you've never lived until you've cleaned off your foot in a public restroom. This one lady gave me a dirty look, but I refuse to be judged by someone wearing hot pink Crocs.

OH! Then! We went on this log water ride and it didn't look like everyone was getting THAT wet. I am wary of water rides because this one time? We went to Kings Island and I went on White Water Canyon and walked around for the rest of the day soaking wet with my shorts chafing. And then we went to Cracker Barrel and I was freezing but no one cared because, in my dad's words, they told me not to go on that damn water ride. Also, I didn't want to get my stuff wet. I'm very protective of my stuff. So, while we were in line, we tried to figure out the physics of the ride. Like, should the weight be in the back? The middle? Spread out? I wasn't paying much attention because physics = hard, and I ended up sitting in the very front. Which . . . bad idea. Not only did my pants end up soaking wet, but my thighs were all sore because I had been using them to clutch the wood thingie in front of me. Heh. Um, yeah. Luckily, my pants dried really quickly and were black so it didn't even look like I'd peed myself. I hardly ever do that anymore, anyway.

Oh, I took some pictures, too.

This was some clever graffiti in line for Top Gun. We totally rode into the danger zone.

This kid was throwing a monster temper tantrum. I have never seen anything like it. So I took a picture. I'm thinking that by taking pictures I bought myself some really bad karma and my kids will make this kid look like an angel.

I saw this sign in line for The Italian Job and started giggling until someone explained that it meant "No Chickens" and not, as I was thinking, "No Cocks." Who knew?

Monday, August 20, 2007


I heart Steve Martin.

conversations that never happened between people who don't exist


"Do you ever take bubble baths?"


"C'mon. You're telling me you've never taken one?"



"Never. Why, have you?"

"Oh yeah, all the time."




"You do take bubble baths!"

" . . . yeah."

"I knew it!"

"So do you use, like, that lavender smelling bubble stuff? That stuff's the best."

"Man, I have no idea. I was fucking around. I've never taken a bubble bath."



"Hey, I'm home."

"Wow, you look hot."

"Shut up."

"No, seriously, what happened to you?"

"Um, did you notice the storm outside?"

"Well, you look like a drowned rat."

"You're so charming."

"You love it."

"Why are you lighting all those candles?"

"Power's out."

"Fantastic. What are you doing?"

"Um . . . do you like . . . wanna get married?"

" . . . "


"Hold on, I'm just basking in the pure romance of this moment."

"Well, I didn't expect you to come home all . . . soggy . . . and irritated. I mean, irritated I expected but --"

"Wow, this just keeps getting better and better."

" . . . "

" . . . "


"OK, I guess."

"Awesome, what's for dinner."

" . . . "


"Let's go over this again."

"I don't see what's so hard to understand, but OK."

"You weren't pregnant when I left."


"But you're pregnant now?"

"Yes. What is the problem here?"

"I left a year ago."


"I'm gonna go now."

nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard, I'm going back to the start

Are you there, Internets? It's me, Jennie. I feel blue. I was on the verge of declaring it WORST. DAY. EVER. Week, but I don't think I can blame it on the week.

I started volunteer training at Oak Tree Corner again. Oak Tree Corner is a center for grieving children. The kids range from ages 3 to 18 and they've all lost a parent or a close family member. I know it sounds completely depressing, but it's really not. When you walk into a meeting, you'd never guess these were all grieving children. There are no tears, just general kid-type activities such as running jumping climbing trees only not really climbing trees because there are no trees inside the building.

While the actual group meetings aren't really somber affairs, the training can get a little weepy. Mostly because they make you talk about all these times you've experienced loss and you have to get in touch with your feelings and I don't know about you, but I try to avoid my feelings as much as possible. I'm like the Cristina Yang of . . . southwestern Ohio. It's true. Ask anyone.

The group I was with last year was not very weepy, but this group? This one lady cried like three times. The number one thing that makes me cry is other people crying. It doesn't matter why they're crying. It's kind of like how some people puke if they see someone else puke. I think that analogy is perfect because I feel the same about crying as I do about puking (psst, I hate them both).

One of the activities we had to do was create a Loss Line, which is basically a timeline where you write down every loss you've experienced. It doesn't have to be a death, it can also be something like your parents getting divorced, a difficult break up, moving away, blah blah sadface. So, after we did this, we all had to hold them up and explain it to the rest of the group. And as I'm going through mine, and talking about John dying and watching my friend struggle with the death of her brother and how I just wanted to hug her until all the bad feelings just left forever and while I was talking I started thinking, "Oh shit . . . oh no . . . voice thickening . . . eyes burning . . . you're gonna cry, aren't you? Well you can just FORGET ABOUT THAT. Seriously. You stop it this instant, young lady! THERE'S NO CRYING IN BASEBALL heehee, I love that movie OK stop talking before you start cry-laughing." It was a close call, is what I'm saying.

Anyway. If you really feel like crying today, draw a quick Loss Line and talk about it in front of a group of strangers. Or you could just listen to Coldplay all day like I've been doing. It's really your call.

Friday, August 17, 2007

It's like I'm perched on the handle bars of a blind man's bike

I have a problem concentrating when people are talking to me. I know this. I'm reminded of it almost every day. OK, every hour. Apparently, I need to work on my listening skills. Sometimes I'm in a meeting and I don't realize I haven't been listening until someone is all, "does anyone have any ideas or suggestions?" and I'm like, "yes, I have an idea about how we only really need to work four days a week . . . what's that you say? That has nothing to do with what we were talking about? Oh, sorry." I wish I could say I'm thinking about something important but I'm probably not. Like the other day, my boss was explaining something to me and I was making sure to make eye contact so she'd know I was really paying attention and then I noticed that she has brown eyes and I started wondering if it's harder to see out of brown eyes than out of blue eyes, because blue eyes are clear. I swear the reason I can't lie is because I have blue eyes. You can't hide lies behind blue eyes. Everything is on display. It's both scary and annoying. I would say it's also the reason I can't keep secrets, but I don't think that's it. Really it's because I get drunk and tell everyone everything. Whether they want to hear it or not. Unless it's a big secret, then I don't tell anyone ever. Like how I'm pregnant? No one knows! Not even the father!

Haha, JK. I totally told the father. HAHA JK AGAIN. Oh the laughter, it hurts. Although, speaking of unplanned pregnancy, I freaked my mom out the other day with the following exchange:

Mom: I was really nauseous the other day and your dad kept joking that I was pregnant.
Me: Is that even possible?
Mom: Not anymore.
Me [patting my stomach]: Maybe you were just experiencing sympathy morning sickness.

Man, you should have seen the look of horror on my mom's face. It was priceless.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, right, getting distracted. My problem (one of many) is that I live too much in my own head and forget to pay attention to real life. When I was a tiny freshman in high school, I started talking to this boy. He kept talking about this upcoming dance and how he didn't have a date. It was one of those dances where the girl asks the boy. I think he even sent me a flower. It didn't occur to me until after the dance was over that he'd been trying to get me to ask him to be my date. I think he ended up going with someone else. Oops. Oh well. Story of my life.

I am just no good with subtlety. I need to be smacked over the head with something before it finally sinks in. And even then, I may be too busy thinking about this:

Maybe if I concentrate hard enough I might be able to actually astrally project myself to the moon and if I could I should probably buy a spacesuit just in case, even though I'm pretty sure when you astrally project yourself somewhere, it's not actually your BODY that goes so I might not need a spacesuit after all which is good because those sound expensive

to pay much attention. Also, I'm probably gonna be pretty pissed that you're smacking me in the head and might pretend not to know what you're talking about just out of spite.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

if I wanna take a GUY home with me TONIGHT, IT'S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS

I will tell almost anyone almost anything. Especially if I've been drinking. See, normal people have a filter between their brain and their mouth that stops them from saying certain things. Things like jokes about abortion or comments about drowning babies or just saying the word penis over and over. I'm pretty sure I was born without this filter. I mean, fine, whatever, I've learned to live with it and so have the people around me.

I have to go to the lady doctor next week and they sent me this packet telling me how to log into my chart online. Ooh la la, technology . . . too sexy, too sexy! Basically, they just want you to fill out your medical history before you come in. My guess is, they're tired of patients coming in late and then having to wait for them to fill out their medical history, find their insurance card, blah blah blah, and then the asshole, I mean patient throws their whole schedule off. I used to work in a doctor's office so I know how annoying patients can be.

I find it very, very difficult to be honest with doctors. I don't know why. You go to the doctor so they can find a problem with you right? Or tell you that you're problem-free? But I want to lie to them. About everything. I'm so afraid they'll tell me I'm not normal and let's face it, at this point in my life, shouldn't that be obvious? I also always worry that they're going to judge me. Like with the questions about if you've ever smoked? I wish I could write in my own answers because I'd write, "yes, but only when completely shitfaced," but then I'd have to explain how many beers equals completely shitfaced and that would probably get me into a brand new shiny mess. So I just lie and say I've never smoked. Drunk smoking doesn't count anyway. It's true. Ask anyone.

So, fine. I can fill this out. And in the privacy of my own home! Beautiful. No nosey, judgy women peeking over my shoulder in the waiting room, trying to see if my family has a history of heart disease, or worse, THE CRAZY. But still, even in the privacy of my own home, I was having trouble answering these questions. Like, when was your first period? OK, I didn't mind answering that one. I would have elaborated on my answer if I could have, because I was 12 and it was Mother's Day. Hahaha! Happy Mother's Day, Mom! But some of the other ones? I didn't want to answer nuh-uh no how even though some of it is information I will share with people who didn't even ask. I don't know. I guess I just have a problem filling out a survey in which my vagina plays such a large role.

Maybe the reason they're making people fill out their vajayjay history online is so they CAN'T write their own answers. Because if I had been allowed to? It would have looked like this:

Have you ever used a contraceptive method?

Birth Control Pills?
You should know, you gave them to me and also NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS


Contraceptive foam?


I don't have a penis, as you will soon find out

Are you married?
What's THAT supposed to mean? Are you calling me a slut?

Have you ever been married?
Oh, what? So now I'm a failed slut?

Are you in a relationship?

Have you ever had an STD?
Not unless you count The Clap. Haha, JK!

How old were you when you first had sexual intercourse?

How many partners have you had within the last 12 months?

Any new partners in the last 12 months?

Is your partner preference male or female?
Depends on how much tequila I've had haha JK NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, OK, male

Do you take steps to prevent sexually transmitted disease?
What, like praying?

Do you have any special needs that we should be aware of?
see above

Monday, August 13, 2007

I keep on talking trash but never say anything

I have a severe case of Bitchface today. I could blame the heat, but it's not even as hot today as it was yesterday and yesterday I was fine. Of course, yesterday I spent the day a) brunching, b) shopping at the bookstore, c) reading Salinger, and d) passing out from heat exhaustion at the pool. Whereas today, you see, I was at work. That might have something to do with the Bitchface. I don't know. I'm still looking into it.

I feel stupid complaining about the heat, because it's August and it's always hot in August but I HATE IT I HATE IT I WANT AUGUST TO DIE.

Anyway, we went to a Reds game on Saturday and luckily there were a shit ton of empty seats in the bleachers so we sat all the way at the top because that's where the shade was. Beer cost more than our tickets. And that's all I have to say about that.

After the game we went to dinner and while I was in the bathroom everyone started a rousing game of Would You Rather. When I got back, the question was, "would you rather your spouse was addicted to meth or prostitutes," and when someone shouted "PROSTITUTES PROSTITUTES" the old man at the table behind us turned around and gave us such a look of disgust I thought his face might melt off. I don't want to say it wasn't me who yelled "PROSTITUTES PROSTITUTES," but only because I don't really remember if it was me or not. It sure SOUNDS like me. Whatever. Heidi was the one who was all, "prostitutes, because they're cheaper," like . . . what kind of cheap ass prostitutes is your husband going to, Heidi?

LATER I accidentally got everyone's hopes up that the meteor shower was that night and we had all these plans to get a blanket and some beers and watch it fly by but then I Googled it and it turns out the meteor shower WAS NOT Saturday night, but Sunday night. Stupid meteors. Then I got called a nerd for the following reasons:
  • I've read Harry Potter way more than once
  • Heidi was telling a story about a transvestite named Larry who wanted to be called Laurie and how she couldn't call him Laurie because Laurie is a girl's name and I was all, "nuh uh, in Little Women there is a character named Laurie and he is a boy who falls in love with Jo and Amy, and if you can take on two of the March sisters in one lifetime, especially those two, you are pretty damn manly," and they just stared at me like I'd grown two heads but I went inside and checked and it turns out I had NOT grown two heads, I guess they just apparently hadn't read Little Women 800 times as a tiny child like I did.
  • I used the word "unwieldy" when talking about what objects in our apartment would be too difficult to use as weapons against zombies.

I'm sure there were more reasons. It's just that I get called a nerd so often, I barely notice it anymore. BUT WHATEVER. Everyone else was JUST AS EXCITED ABOUT THE METEOR SHOWER AS I WAS and if that doesn't make you a nerd, I don't know what does.

Please pray for it to get a little cooler. At least by this weekend. We're going to Kings Island (please don't stalk me) and if it's hot, it will be smelly and ALSO there will be way more fat, dimpled flesh everywhere if it's 100 degrees and not, say, 80. Truly. It's science. Heidi got tickets through work and I was all excited because they were so cheap until Heidi told me she probably wouldn't ride all the roller coasters and I think my exact words were, "WELL, THEN, YOU'D BETTER INVITE MORE PEOPLE," because my response to someone doing something nice for me is apparently to yell at them and berate them for not wanting to fly upside-down at 50 miles per hour.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

things I worry about when I'm running out of things to worry about

What if zombies attacked and I couldn't drive away because I was so drunk I couldn't see straight? Or what if I didn't hear them break into the apartment because I was PTFO*?

I may need to stop drinking. Especially since last night we discussed it and we have no good weapons in the apartment to use against zombies. So I'm pretty sure I'm going to need to be able to use my car as a weapon.

*passed the fuck out

let's end this, shall we?

Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

The Evil Summer: Final installment (OR IS IT?)

I couldn't move or talk. All I could remember were the words on the floor. It said it would be back. When? 10 years, 10 days, 10 minutes? I didn't know what was real anymore. The next thing I knew I was over by Randy, looking down on him.

"Did I kill him?" I managed to choke out.

"I don't know!" said Chris.

I dropped to my knees and put my ear on his chest. I couldn't hear anything. I sat up and said "I can't hear a heartbeat."

"Well, try gain. He can't be dead!" shouted Chris.

I put my ear back to his chest. After a few seconds I whispered, "He's gone. I killed him."

"No, he's not!" Chris yelled. "Move!"

She pushed me away and put her ear to his chest*. She stayed there almost 5 minutes.

"Hey, I - I hear something!" she said.

"Let me see!" I told her.

She moved away and I listened. She was right. I could hear something, too. I sat up, to happy to speak. I just shook my head yes, realizing that he wasn't dead, I hadn't killed him.

"He's not dead. I told you!" Chris yelled as Randy continued to wake up. By now he was fully concious.**

"What's going on. I told you that stupid game wouldn't work!" he said. We all stared at him.

"You mean, you don't remember?" I asked.

"Remember what?"

We told him what had happened. Just as we finished we heard a door slam. We ran upstairs. It was our parents.

"Where the heck*** were you guys?" Chris asked.

"We were next door. Didn't Bret and Josh tell you?" Chris's mom said.

We looked at Bret and Josh. "Sorry." they said.

"Nothing happened did it?" my mom asked.

"Oh, nothing unusual." I replied.

Later, the next day Randy came to me, looking guilty and asked, "I didn't hurt anyone did I."

"Well, you cut me in the side when you threw a knife at us. Then you threatened us with a gun." I said. "Does your head and neck still hurt? I kind of slammed your head on the washer." Now it was my turn to look guilty.

"A little, but I'm glad you did what you did."

"Oh glad to do it. Anytime you need to be strangled and beat up, call me!" I joked.

It's almost 8 months later and I've about forgotten the whole thing. Or at least stopped thinking about it all the time. Until I found a note on my bed one day. It said:


(or is it?)

OK. So that's over. I see several plotholes here. One, I think everyone's parents may notice the bloody towels all over the upstairs bathroom. Two, there is probably a bloody knife lying there, too. Three, um, where did the gun go? And four, was I really planning to write a sequel? I'm so happy that does not exist. Also? I still have no idea who half the people in this story are.

*It's called CPR, you 12-year-old morons. Look into it.
**I still can't spell this word
***see? I didn't always have such a goddamn dirty mouth

Friday, August 10, 2007

But you ain't got no legs, Lieutenant Dan.

If you guys think I blabber a lot of nonsense on my blog, you should just be glad you don't live with me. I tell the Internets a lot of crazy, but Heidi has to listen to it ALL THE TIME. She knows the grossest thing I have ever done. That is not a link to the grossest thing I have ever done because I am NEVER WRITING ABOUT THAT (on here anyway) but it is a link to when I told Heidi the grossest thing I've ever done and she didn't blink an eye. She also has to hear about me worry about the fate of NOT ONLY Harry Potter, but Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood and LUPIN AND TONKS and she has NO IDEA who any of these people are.

If you lived with me, Internets, you would have had to listen to me ramble on and on about the following:
  • Last night, I watched My Super Ex-Girlfriend and when Heidi came home from working late, she had to listen to me bitch about how you just KNOW that movie was written by a man because Uma Thurman goes crazy on Luke Wilson for NO REASON other than he breaks up with her, because women are nutso and become unhinged even when the guy is completely nice about it and ALSO how the misogynistic subtext made me want to hurl because Eddie Izzard was trying to strip Uma of all her superpowers and really I thought the entire movie was just an excuse to have two hot women have a superpower catfight over some schlub like Luke Wilson. And I LIKE Luke Wilson but COME ON.
  • One of our employees has a child named Destiny, and I told Heidi it's going to be awesome when Destiny has a kid so someone can be all, "Who is that kid? Oh, that's Destiny's child."
  • One night I was talking about how I would rather gouge out my eyes than do something (go to the gym?) and went on to explain that I would do so by taking a spoon and inserting it into my eye socket and then POP goes my eyeball.
  • I told you guys about how I think Hey There Delilah is stalking me, but Heidi is the one who has to hear me rant about it every time I hear the song on the radio.
  • I got something from my OB/GYN the other day saying I have to fill out my health history online before my appointment. I thought about doing it at work but then I realized that the IT department has access to everything we do on our computers and I'm just not sure I'm comfortable with any of them knowing that much about my lady parts.
  • Last night at the gym, the movie in the Cardio Cinema was Forrest Gump which . . . awesome, I love that movie. And it took me a long time to love that movie because my name is Jennie and I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard "me and Jenny was like peas and carrots," because I would be RICH. Anyway, when we got home I made a point to tell Heidi I really like movies about mentally handicapped people. Rainman, Forrest Gump, and What's Eating Gilbert Grape are all in my top 10 favorite movies. OK, maybe top 20. Whatever.

See, aren't you glad you don't have to listen to any of that? I mean, you can stop reading it at any time, but until Heidi tears her ears off, she's stuck with it. And unlike eyeballs, I don't know of a quick and efficient way to remove ears.

Thursday, August 09, 2007

Deep Thoughts . . . by Consuelo Westbrook

This is the greatest piece of spam I have ever received:

To: Me
From: Consuelo Westbrook
Subject: Hello Jennifer!

I have a piece of great and sad news to tell you: I am dead. We will burn that bridge when we come to it.

Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.

Predicting the future is easy. It's trying to figure out what's going on now that's hard.

It seems essential, in relationships and all tasks, that we concentrate only on what is most significant and important.

Injustice is relatively easy to bear, what stings is justice.

Whenever the cause of the people is entrusted to professors, it is lost.

It is with our judgments as with our watches: no two go just alike, yet each believes his own.

Hesitancy in judgment is the only true mark of the thinker.

I don't set trends. I just find out what they are and exploit them.

I get up in the morning with an idea for a three-volume novel and by nightfall it's a paragraph in my column.

Idleness is only a coarse name for my infinite capacity for living in the present.

The fly that does not want to be swatted is safest if it sits on the fly-swatter.

Wednesday, August 08, 2007

who ya gonna call?

You guys already know that I'm borderline (?) crazy, so I'm not afraid to tell you this. Aside from spending the majority of my time daydreaming and making up different scenarios, I am also prone to moments where my imagination just runs completely wild. Usually, I am home alone when this happens. Which is good because no one actually SEES me acting like a crazy person, but then I go and tell everyone the stupid shit I do so it's not like it would matter if they saw it with their own eyes or not. Whatever. I'M NOT PROUD. Or prejudiced. Heh.

Anyway. Heidi was gone all weekend and has been working late every night this week, so I have been home by myself a lot. Friday and Saturday night, I was so exhausted that I immediately fell to sleep, but I can never sleep on Sunday night and it was made even worse because I was home all alone and every time I closed my eyes, I imagined a dark figure slinking into my room, standing over my bed, and slowly raising an axe over my poor, sleeping, oblivious body. You know, I blame Heidi for this. When I lived alone, I never really freaked out about stuff like that, even though there was that one time someone tried to get into my apartment at 4 AM. But now? I can't even be home alone in the DAYTIME without having a mini-freakout.

Last night after work, I was sitting at my computer. I had some music on, but not very loud. That's when I heard it! A rustling noise coming from the bathroom! I knew it wasn't Murray (formerly Phoebe) because she was lying next to my feet. Until the rustling noise! When we heard the rustling noise (!) both of our heads shot toward the bathroom. She stood up and crept slowly to the bathroom door and then ran far, far away to hide. I stood up as quietly as I could and stared at the shower curtain for a couple minutes, trying to make out the shadow of the psychotic killer (or WORSE, a zombie!!!!) I KNEW was hiding in the bathtub. I prepared to open the shower curtain, but first I put on some flip flops and grabbed my cell phone in case I had to run outside from the zombie serial killer. I couldn't bring myself to open the shower curtain with my own hand, though, because then I'd be too close in case a knife or an axe or dirty zombie teeth came swinging down. So I went to the laundry room and grabbed the broom. I stood in the doorway of the bathroom and slooooowly brought the broom handle closer and closer to the shower curtain . . . finally it reached its destination, I ripped the shower curtain open and . . .


OK, just kidding, there was nothing there. BUT THERE COULD HAVE BEEN. And I was totally prepared to fight for my life, you know, with the broom and my flip flops.

I don't know. There was definitely a noise coming from the bathroom and it sounded like something brushing up against the shower curtain. I heard it. Murray heard it. I don't suffer from hallucinations (that I know of). There's only one logical explanation. My bathroom is haunted.

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

THE EVIL SUMMER (or The Devil's Free Hot Chocolate)

Part One
Part Two
Part Three

by 12-year-old Jennie (I feel I need to keep reiterating this)

I fell down. Chris and Justin helped me up. They took me to the bathroom. I used a wet towel to clean up the blood. It was just a small cut and didn't hurt to much. I put a bandage on it. I stood up. I could still walk. We ran down to the basement. Josh, Bret, Mandy, and Melanie* were down there. We grabbed them and told them what happened. Then we heard the basement door slam and lock.

"Oh, my God. Someone locked us in!" cried Chris. "How do we get out now?"

I ran up the stairs. It had to be Randy, or Patrick, or whoever he was.

"Randy?" I yelled. "Randy please, let us out!"

"I'm not Randy, who's Randy," it was Patrick's voice. I don't think anyone thought Randy was kidding now. Actually it isn't Randy.

"Patrick, please let us out?" Chris yelled.

"I can't, you'll try to stop me." he said.

"Stop you from what?" I asked.

"From killing you, of course!" he said. I ran back down the stairs.

"How are we gonna get out?" asked Bret.

"We could climb out the window." Chris told us. "But there** kinda small."

"Well you and I could fit through." I said to Chris. "But how do we reach them?"

"We could push the shelves up to the window." Chris said.

Justin and I agreed, because Justin and Bret could hold it while Chris and I climbed out the window. It took us an hour to take everything off the shelves and move them under the window. We used a screwdriver to break the glass.

Chris went first. She started climbing. It only took her about 2 minutes to get up there. Then Justin handed her two wodden bats. My turn. I put my foot on the bottom shelf. The whole thing felt like it fell over. I think it took me about 2 minutes to get otu the window. I looked at my watch and Chris gave me a bat. Good, only 8 o'clock***. It should be light for at least another hour. Chris and I started walking toward the garage. Nobody was in the garage so we went into the house and unlocked the basement door. We told everyone to go upstairs.

"Where should we go?" Justin asked.

"Um, lock yourself in the bathroom." I said.

"I don't think so!" It was Patrick. "Randy is gone now."

He had a gun pointed at us^. Where he got it, I don't know. He told us to go down to the basement. Chris went first then Mandy, Justin, Josh, Melanie, Bret, me and Patrick, holding the gun against my back. I noticed Chris had her hands behind her. I knew she was up to something. I just hoped Patrick didn't know that. We were almost down the stairs. As I stepped onto the floor Justin grabbed my arm and yanked me away from Patrick. Before he could shoot, Chris smacked his arm with her bat. He dropped the gun and I picked it up. He soon recovered and paid no attention to the gun in my hands. I guess he figured I wouldn't use it, and he was right, I didn't want to hurt Randy. He glanced at Chris and Justin who had triumphant looks on their faces until he tackled me and the gun flew out of my hands and across the room. I saw Justin run and pick it up, aiming it at us, but we were rolling around. I put my hands around Randy's neck and slammed his head against the washing machine. He easily threw me across the room. I hit the wall so hard I thought I would pass out. Then I felt 2 hands slide around my neck. Randy was trying to choke me! I pried his hands off my neck and I tried strangling him. He tried pushing me away but before he could I tightened my grip. He hit me hard on the head and kneed me in the stomach. I don't know how but I held on. I could hear Justin and Chris shouting and Mandy, Melanie, and Josh were crying and screaming. I think Chris was talking to someone on the phone, but I couldn't understand her. Everybody and everything was hazy. All I could concentrate on was Randy, and it wasn't hard since he was hitting me with more strength than one human could have. Finally he stopped struggling and a black, thick liquid oozed out of his mouth. He started shaking and making gagging noises as a black liquid formed an odd shape on the floor, from Randy's mouth. Then Randy dropped his head to the floor and stopped moving. The shape on the floor changed and formed the words I'LL BE BACK. Then it dissolved into the air. For a few minutes everyone was dead silent, all of us looking and Randy and the place where the words had been. Then everyone was talking at once.

"Is he dead?"

"I want my mom!"

"Call 911!"

"Help, help, somebody get help!"

[ok, so believe it or not, there is still more of this crap . . . but I'm tired of typing so it'll have to wait.]

*I'll be honest, even I don't remember who all these people are
**Confession: I had a problem with there/they're/their until like 9th grade
^this made me LOL^^
^^I should really stop Mystery-Science-Theatering my own story

Oh, the dashboard melted, but we still have the radio.

Every morning, I drive though this busy intersection. It just so happens that once you go through this intersection, the right lane almost immediately ends. Everyone knows this. And every morning, I get in the left lane and wait patiently in line while self-important assholes speed by in the right lane so they can get in front of the long line of cars. I used to stick close to the bumper of the car in front of me so these assholes couldn't get in, because I am a mean and hateful person and pissing people off sometimes makes me happier than it should. I didn't care if they got in front of the car in FRONT of me as long as they weren't directly in front of me. And it made me giggle inside to watch them slam on their brakes and swerve into line behind me. But then I realized I just didn't care. There are so many other things I could be worrying about. And anyway. Carma's a bitch. I'm sorry. That was lame and I'm pretty sure that's not even the first time I've said it. Sad.

I used to be one of you crazy, swerving, speeding assholes. But I don't drive like a crazy person anymore because I've decided I like living. ALSO I've discovered that it's much more fun to piss people off by driving the speed limit. And then? When they can't pass you? Turn right somewhere as slooooowly as you can. I think I almost made a lady's head explode one day. Best. Day. Ever.

The other reason I decided to start going the speed limit is that I can't really afford to pay for a ticket. I mean, sure, it'd be super fun to blow $50 on something I don't need, but I'd rather blow it on shoes or liquor or black market babies. I still have my fingers crossed that I won't get a ticket in the mail from the state of Illinois because of those tollbooths I accidentally ran through the last time I went to Chicago. Oops.

I'm not saying I'm always a perfect angel while driving. On my bad days, I can be as road-ragey as the next person. And, for the sake of my own sanity (what's left of it), I lift all non-speeding, non-swerving, non-crazy rules when I'm driving in downtown Chicago, where obviously the only way to drive is with your fingers crossed and your eyes closed.

Monday, August 06, 2007

oh what a world, what a world

Dear Internets, I was going to write this whole long post about the engagement party I went to this weekend, and how it ended with pizza and beer pong, but then I went outside for lunch and my brain melted. Sorry!

Friday, August 03, 2007

nonsensical: lacking intelligible meaning; foolish; absurd

You guys are going to be so proud of me. I just had this conversation with a coworker:

Coworker: I so don't want what I brought for lunch.
Me: What is it?
CW: A Smart Ones pizza.
Me: Those aren't too bad. But I usually cook them in the oven, not the microwave.
CW: I'm a microwave person. I don't like it when the crust is hard.
Me: Oh, I see.
CW: Yeah, I like it softer.
Me: See, I like it hard.

And I didn't even giggle! Well, until I got back to my desk. And also right now. Heh.

Also this:

Heidi: Hey, so you know how I have that cheesecake from The Cheesecake Factory?
Me: Yes?
Heidi: I decided I don't need to eat all of it, so do you want half?
Me: Um, YEAH.
Heidi: Good. If I have to get fat, so do you.
Me: That's so nice.
Heidi: Hey, never say I don't look out for you.

Oh and also this happened last night, in Heidi's car, on the way to the gym:

Heidi: There are geese at the road.
Me: I'll take care of that.
[I roll down my window]
Heidi: Hahahaha!
Me: Oh my god, there's a lady over there by the geese.
Heidi: I know, I saw her!
Me: Why didn't you tell me before I screamed out the window?
Heidi: Because I thought it was funnier this way.
Me: Wow. Way to look out for me!

So our gym is right across the street from the fancy, outdoor mall. Sometimes they play live music there and you can hear it from the gym parking lot. Last night, someone was singing Champagne Supernova. I just keep hoping it wasn't really Oasis playing. Otherwise, I totally blew what may be my ONLY CHANCE to see Oasis live. Instead, I spent that time on the elliptical watching THAT STUPID HILARY DUFF MOVIE AGAIN. WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO ME?! WHY GOD WHY???

Lest you think me crazy for wondering if Oasis might be playing at The Greene, you should know that just the other week, Mandy Moore put on a free concert there. I mean, I know it's a giant leap from Mandy Moore to Oasis, but stranger things have happened. I'm sorry, that link was all kinds of depressing. I looked at it the other day at work and almost started crying. I might cry right now. Shit. Speaking of crying, we were looking at the movie schedule for the gym this month and next Saturday they're playing Hotel Rwanda. Um. OK. That was a really good movie. Really, really good. But it's not very work-out-y. It's more sit-on-your-couch-with-a-box-of-tissues-and-a-half-empty-bottle-of-wine-and-try-not-to-slit-your-wrists-y.

Anyway, did I tell you that Heidi and I walked up to see Mandy Moore's free concert the other night? It was lamer than I thought it would be and BELIEVE ME I thought it was going to be pretty lame. Oh, it was terrible. We stayed for two songs maybe. We couldn't see her and couldn't really hear her and none of her co-stars were there so we said SCREW IT and went home. The best part was that the route we walked was the same one we took that night we drank all the vodka and walked to Waffle House. Did I tell you we did that? Oh, I did. Anyway, it turns out that path is a lot easier to walk sober and in daylight. Go figure.

Last night, after the gym, Heidi and I drank wine and ate cheesecake while watching Big Brother. And after Big Brother was over, we continued our new project, about which I AM CONFIDENT I have not told you. It was Heidi's idea but I quickly jumped on board because, um, it's awesome. We have started watching Friends from the very beginning and we're not stopping until the last episode. We're about halfway through the first season and we're hoping to be done by 2009. Hey, shut up. It's important to have goals.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

shotgun BANG what's up with that thang?

I'm going to talk about the gym now. Because my life is so boring that I have nothing better to talk about. I have a bone to pick with our gym. They keep playing these crappy teenybopper movies and I'm getting SO SICK OF THEM. One night? They were playing A Cinderella Story. Last night? She's the Man. Tonight? I forget the name of it, but it's that movie with Hilary Duff and Big and Heather Locklear and it's actually not that bad, but I don't want to watch it at the gym, you know?

She's the Man just MIGHT be the worst movie I have ever seen. And I didn't even watch all of it. Thank god. I might have died. Because I would have thrown myself under the treadmill. Would that kill you, do you think? Anyway. Amanda Bynes is terrible. Just terrible. Although, if I go in tomorrow and they're playing What a Girl Wants, I'll be OK with it but only because Colin Firth is in it. Mr. Darcy makes everything better. Oh hush, I know he's not Mr. Darcy in that movie, but if I listen to my mp3 player while watching it, I can pretend he is.

So tonight I got on the elliptical and did a bit of warm up, but I thought the resistance on the machine seemed a little weird. Like . . . grindy. I don't know. Most of the machines were empty because, um, they were playing a Hilary Duff movie, so I got on the elliptical next to me. I wasn't on it more than a minute when I noticed it was making this loud, obnoxious squeaking noise with every rotation. I could even hear it over The Fratellis. Yes, I was listening to music while watching the movie. Did you not hear me? Hilary Duff. Enough said. Finally, after I'd had enough squeaking, I got on a third machine. And that one was juuuust right. You know, I always hated Goldilocks when I was a kid. What a whore. I'd be so pissed if some bitch came in and ate all my porridge (I mean, theoretically, because I don't think I even like porridge) AND she broke a bunch of furniture. She broke a chair, right? And one of the beds? Did the bears eat her in the end, because they totally should have.

The word you're looking for is . . . ANYWAY (trademark: Ross Geller). I'm not sure if all this extra gym time is even working. I can't tell a difference. Maybe my insides are totally healthy now. My heart is all buff and showing off for the other organs. And bragging about how many ladies he's gonna score (apparently my heart is a man? That explains a lot) and making my liver feel like shit because of how badly I treat it. Poor liver. You never stood a chance.