Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Last night, I mooched dinner off my parents and helped them pass out candy to all the tiny children. It was funny, because they took the windows out of the screen door so it was all open and every time kids would come up to the door, Ripley (the dog) would poke her head out and stick her nose into their buckets. Some of the kids were like, "eh, whatever, a dog GIMME CANDY," but other kids were all, "OH UNHOLY BEAST! REMOVE THY NOSE FROM MY PILE OF CANDY OR I SHALL CRY AND FALL DOWN AND MAYBE POO A LITTLE IN MY PANTS."
We were allowed to dress up today at work, and yesterday I came up with a BRILLIANT idea for a costume. I was going to wear my devil horns and tail and carry around my pitchfork and write "PRADA" on a shirt. Get it? GET IT? The Devil Wears Prada? Only, by the time we got home last night, after passing out candy and going to the gym, I didn't feel like getting it all together. So INSTEAD I am wearing Heidi's Peyton Manning jersey (she offered me her Bengals jersey, but if my dad found out I was wearing a Bengals jersey, he'd disown me) and jeans. See, it's better because we don't have casual Fridays so we're never allowed to wear jeans and so this is my way of rebelling. DAMN THE MAN.
BONUS: Conversation with my roommate . . .
Heidi: Here's my jersey.
Heidi: No problem.
Me: Peyton Manning is the quarterback, right?
Heidi: Sigh. Yes.
So apparently I agreed to do this thing where I post something to my blog every day in November. Why I agreed to do this, I have no idea. Maybe I was drunk. Anyway, I need to come up with a plan so I'm not posting crap like this every day. So I don't know why I'm wasting all this time talking to YOU people. That is all.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
I don't know what I'm up against, I don't know what it's all about, I've got so much to think about HEEEEEYYYYYY
Can you believe I fell asleep during a ZOMBIE movie? Me neither. Normally, I'm cowered under a blanket or behind a pillow, but I was crazy tired. Which is like the most tired of all the tireds you can be. It's true. I read it in a science book. Ha! Like I read science books.
The reason I was so tired was because we had walked around the Oregon District's Hauntfest for a couple of hours. And it was freezing and we drank some beer and that didn't really help with the freezing because we didn't drink enough of the beer and there was so much going on that I think I got overstimulated on account of all the people in funny costumes and the movies playing on the street and the bands and the circus performers swinging on ropes or something and that is why I was so tired.
Heidi and I spent a pretty long time in Goodwill on Friday night searching for our Three's Company costumes (we found terrycloth clothing YOU GUYS IT WAS SO AWESOME), and yet once we got downtown I felt like I hadn't even dressed up. Oh well. We all still looked pretty good. See:
Come and knock on our door, INDEED.
Anyway, once we got home, we drank beer and played Mario Kart (Super Nintendo version OH SNAP) but it didn't take long for Heidi and I to get tired of Steve kicking our asses so we quit. Seriously, it was embarrasing. I suck at video games and it makes my thumbs hurt to play because I press too hard and I swing the controller all around like THAT'S gonna help. Sigh. Anyway, then we watched Dawn of the Dead and all fell asleep and now the story has come full circle so you'd think I'd quit talking now but you'd be wrong.
On Sunday, Heidi and I made pumpkins. Well, we bought pumpkins and massacred them. See:
Mine is the one on the left. I like it because it reminds me of the snowmen that Calvin (of & Hobbes) would make and slaughter in various ways. Do you think Hobbes was gay? Oh never mind, didn't he have a crush on Susie Derkins? Or do you think he only had a crush on Susie Derkins because Calvin secretly loved her? And don't tell me Calvin didn't secretly love her, because why else would he have started G.R.O.S.S. (Get Rid Of Slimy girlS)? DENIAL. THAT'S WHY. Yeah, I definitely should have quit talking before now.
Monday, October 29, 2007
Friday, October 26, 2007
If they're not fighting, then Bo is making this horrible strangled-baby noise at like 3 AM. Why? It's the worst noise I have ever heard in my life. I hope he doesn't do it while Heidi and I are at work, otherwise our neighbors are going to call the police and tell them we've been leaving our baby home alone all day. Which is nonsense. I leave the baby in my car in the parking lot at work all day. Don't worry, I leave the trunk open a little so it gets some fresh air. I just called my baby "it." I keep doing that. The other day, this lady brought her baby in and I was telling Heidi about it and I was all, "There was this baby . . . it was cute, guess, but when I saw it I was like, what's it doing here?" and then she asked why I was calling the baby an It. I DON'T KNOW. It was a boy baby. I don't know its name, though.
What I'm trying to say is, I've been tired pretty much all week. You'd think I'd just get up the first time they wake me up, but instead I lie in bed WIDE AWAKE waiting for my alarm to go off. And then I hit snooze a couple of times. Here is a timeline:
5:18 - Cats fight on bed. Pull the covers over head to protect face.
5:45 - Phoebe takes massive dump and digs around in her litter box for like ten minutes.
6:27 - The strangled baby noises start again. They will haunt me forever.
6:30 - Heidi's alarm goes off. Church bells. Can hear them through two doors and a wall.
6:45 - My alarm goes off. Hit snooze.
6:52 - Alarm goes off again. Hit snooze.
6:59 - Alarm goes off again. Begrudgingly get out of bed.
7:00 - Brush teeth. Multi-task by feeding cat and checking email (what?) while brushing teeth. Get toothpaste all over shirt.
7:03 - Shower. Space out and forget whether I conditioned hair.
7:14 - Stand in my closet in my towel trying to figure out what to wear. Pull out first appropriate clothes I see.
7:20 - Apply lotion, deodorant, etc. Dry hair.
7:33 - Plug in hair straightener. Put on make up. Straighten hair.
7:40 - Get dressed.
7:43 - Search room frantically for shoes.
7:44 - Search room frantically for glasses.
7:45 - Grab breakfast from kitchen.
7:46 - Leave apartment.
Fascinating, yes? I'm not sure why I did that. Filler, I guess. Aaaaanyway.
Yesterday, I came home from work and saw that the sliding shelf thingie on my desk that holds my keyboard had magically fallen on the floor, knocking the keyboard and mouse and speakers and modem and router all over the place. I don't know how the hell they managed to dislodge this drawer and make such a mess, but kudos to them! I wasn't mad. I was more impressed that they'd managed to do it. They don't even have opposable thumbs. Maybe they were all strung out on whatever pills were lying around the apartment. Although, I don't know what Heidi has lying around her room, but the only pills I have in mine are birth control and ibuprofen. Also, Ecstasy.
That's a lie. I'm sorry. I don't know why I do that. I guess I just want you guys to like me and pills = love, right? That's what my parents always told me.
No, they didn't. That's a lie. I'm sorry. OK, time to stop talking.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
- t-shirt, jeans, flip-flops
- long-sleeved old navy shirt, jeans, tennis shoes
Uncle Tim would make me wear skirts! And dresses! And fancy underwear! Which, OK, that'd be a little weird. Actually, on his show, Tim Gunn doesn't help pick out the fancy underwear, Veronica does. Because not even Tim Gunn is that gay. Or women's underwear makes him uncomfortable. Or both.
Anyway, so I cleaned out my closet and now have a huge stack of clothes to give to Goodwill. Some of the clothes? I don't know why I was holding onto them. First of all, a lot of them were far too big. Second of all, I found stuff that I never even knew I had. Like this one shirt? It is the ugliest, most heinous shirt I have ever seen IN ALL MY YEARS. I'm pretty sure it was a gift because I would never spend money on something like this. It was saved from Goodwill, though, at least for a couple of days because it might be perfect for my Halloween costume. Thanks, Tim Gunn!
So now I just have to work on collecting Tim Gunn's 10 essentials, WHICH ARE:
- Basic black dress (check!)
- Trench coat (no check)
- Classic dress pants (check!)
- White shirt (check, but I don't like it and it doesn't look very good on me, so UNCHECK)
- Jeans (oh, CHECK)
- Cashmere sweater (are you kidding?)
- Skirt (eh)
- Day dress (yeah right)
- Blazer (check!)
- Sweat suit alternative (who even still buys sweat suits?)
I think Tim Gunn and I differ a lot on what constitutes a sweat suit alternative. Because a lot of the time these women end up wearing a dress as a sweat suit alternative. Um, what? No. Would you wear a dress to go grocery shopping? Or take out the trash? Or give your dog a bath? I hope not. Otherwise, you've got bigger problems than the fact that you own a SWEAT SUIT.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
and I was the one who put it there. Not sure if you can see it, but it says "Hello, my fellow Americans. I am a douchebag," at the bottom. My cousins may already be familiar with the word "douchebag," but if they're not, I really think their parents should be the ones to tell them.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
I don't remember who said this: Did you break that shot glass?
Me: I was making a tower.
Me: . . . I dunno.
Then, to get rid of the evidence, I threw the broken shot glass away in the bathroom. I thought this would be the biggest mishap of the evening, but THEN my parents decided to stop by and that's when all hell broke loose.
Hokay. So. If the bouncers hadn't stepped in, this would have been the statement I gave the police, because I'm pretty sure someone would have gotten their ass kicked or thrown in jail:
Slutty Girl who had been dancing like a stripper all night approaches our table. She asks my dad what time it is, but she has her cell phone out.
Mom: Just look at your phone.
Slutty Girl: [indecipherable screeching and yelling at my mom]
Mom: Go away!
Slutty Girl yells more. Mom yells more. I start yelling. Slutty Girl starts waving finger around in Mom's face. Mom gets up. Slutty Girl shoves Mom. I stand up and approach Slutty Girl, put my hand on her chest and push her back.
Me: That's my mom!
Slutty Girl: [more screeching]
Slutty Girl pushes me. Mary gets up. Mary pushes Slutty Girl. Dad grabs my arm and tells me to sit down. I do not.
Slutty Girl to Mary: I'm gonna kick your ass!
Mary: Bring it on, bitch!*
Bouncers break in and push Slutty Girl toward the door. Mary follows. I try and follow Mary, but another bouncer grabs my arm and won't let me.
Me: Let me go, that's my friend.
Bouncer: It's OK, they're kicking that girl out.
Me: . . . I just want to go over there.
Me: But . . .
Bouncers kick Slutty Girl and her (slutty) friend out of the bar. Victory! Later, Slutty Girl and her friend try to come back into the bar and are immediately kicked out again. As she was leaving (again!), she pointed at our table all "I am going to slash your tires or your throat, I'M NOT SURE WHICH YET," and later, as the bar was closing, a bouncer came over and told us that Slutty Girl was waiting outside for us. We had a shot, stood around talking about what a moron she was because THERE WERE SIX OF US and also the bouncers and also some HUGE tall guy we were suddenly friends with. But when we went outside, she was gone. Too bad. We were ready. I mean, Kate had even taken her rings off so Slutty Girl's face wouldn't break them.
So . . . I think that's mostly how it happened. It escalated quickly because THAT BITCH WAS CRAZY. I think I dropped more f-bombs than I've ever dropped, especially in front of my parents. Also, at some point Slutty Girl's friend tried to swing at my mom, but my mom caught her fist and wouldn't let go.
Moral of the story: Do not fuck with my mom. Also? DO NOT ask my dad what time it is.
*this phrase was repeated A LOT over the course of the weekend
Friday, October 19, 2007
Mary and Janna are driving in from the faraway lands of Chicago and Michigan and once they arrive, I fully expect insanity to start raining from the sky. Or something. They are crazy. Especially Janna. I mean this in a good way. I may not live for the weekend. Or maybe just my liver might not live through the weekend. Although my liver has survived worse. Probably.
Last night, even though Heidi had a traumatic experience with Red Lobster (long story) and I had a belly full of Penn Station, we went running and I seriously wanted to die at the end. The only reason I decided not to die was because we hadn't watched Ugly Betty or The Office yet. Then Henry and Dwight went and broke my shriveled little heart into itty bitty pieces and I wanted to die again.
Speaking of Penn Station (Nice segue, Jennie. Why thank you, Jennie), I told Heidi that we're not allowed to go there for at least a month because last night I went without her and the boy at the cash register asked me where my sidekick was. Another boy there knows both of our names. So. Yeah. It's time to give Penn Station a rest for a while. And now I want to die again. But only a little because I need to be sort of alive for this weekend. And now we have come full circle. DUN DUN DUUUUUN! I don't know.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Discovered by the Germans in 1904, they named it San Diego, which of course in German means a whale's vagina.
part of the 365 project
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
part of the 365 project
WHAT THE HELL DO I KNOW*?
*enough to know I don't know much
On Monday, I half-heartedly declared it WORST. DAY. EVER. Week, but my heart's not in it. Not even half my heart. Too many not-worst things have happened; good news from the doctor, secret projects, friends making plans to come visit. It's not a shitty week, really. It's just blah enough to make me wish it was over.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
part of the 365 project
Monday, October 15, 2007
part of the 365 project
Please take the chairs away. I don't like them. The big one is staring at me and that short one is being very droll.
It was a good weekend, although I did absolutely nothing productive. On Friday, Heidi and I watched Knocked Up and a bunch of episodes of Ugly Betty and got drunk off of four beers. WTF? I'm ashamed of myself.
We were all good on Saturday and went to the library and then we decided that since it was such a nice day we shouldn't waste it because it's Ohio and soon the weather will be so shitty that I will want to cry, cry, cry all day long. True story. So we went to the Nature Reserve and accidentally ended up hiking 3 miles.
Later that night, Steve came over and we all went to this bar. I think it might be a good one. We've only been twice but it's been fun both times. Let's break it down, shall we?
$4 pitchers of beer
lots of tables
buffalo head on wall
only one Oasis song on the jukebox (Lyla)
I think the $4 pitchers win. Somehow we ended up polishing off a good four of them and also a Washington Apple. We also poured some money into the jukebox, took a cab home ($6!!!), and lit something on fire and threw it into the pond. What? It was for HEIDI!!! I think she found it very cathartic. Am I right, Heidi? Then we called Heidi's brother and told him we were lost in Kalamazoo. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot? (I totally stole that from someone).
Also, at this bar, when I was coming back from the bathroom some guy told me I was hot. I was really flattered until I realized he was the same guy who had been shouting so loudly along to Say it Ain't So* that I could HEAR HIM IN THE BATHROOM. Seriously, it sounded like he was in the stall next to me. Still, it was flattering, even though he was clearly so shitfaced that he thought it would be a good idea to ruin a Weezer song for the entire bar.
All I managed to do yesterday was watch more Ugly Betty and mooch dinner off of my parents. So . . . yeah. Good times.
*I have absolutely no idea if that is a link to the right video because I can't watch Youtube right now because Big Brother is watching.
WAH WAH WAAAAAAAAAH!
OK, I'll stop.
Friday, October 12, 2007
I know this is weird because we work together, and because up until and possibly including now, I’ve repulsed you, but I like you.
Last night. Heidi and I went to Target. And I bought . . . NOTHING. Not one thing. Not even more $1 spot crap. I mean, sure, at one point I was holding both a DVD (Sense & Sensibility . . . $5.50!) and a CD (Iron & Wine . . . $9.99!) but I guilted myself into putting them down. Because it doesn't matter how incredibly cheap they both were, I DON'T NEED THEM. Whatever. That's $15.49 more I have to spend in DC, right? Right. Bah. Being responsible sucks hardcore.
So earlier this week it was like 90 degrees. I am not exaggerating. Monday was effing hot. So hot, that after my doctor's appointment I went to the library to get some movies (because they're free there) and I sat on the sofa all day watching them. Because it was 600 degrees in our apartment. No joke. I checked the thermostat and that's what it said.
Clearly, since it was 90 degrees on Monday, it makes perfect sense that on Wednesday it was only like 55. I mean, that makes total sense, right? I came home from work and all of our windows were still open and our apartment was FREEZING. OK, the thermostat said it was like 62 degrees, but it felt freezing. Why is it that 62 degrees feels so good when you're outside but when you're inside it makes you feel like your toes are going to fall off? Anyway, so it's fall now. Awesome. I'm glad it's no longer so hot outside that after I finish getting ready in the morning, I need another shower, but why the drastic change? We had one day where it was beautiful and sunny and 70 degrees. ONE DAY. Although, since this is Ohio, I suppose I should be glad we got even one day. Oh my god, I have been talking about the weather for a looooong time now. Stop. Seriously.
Did you know they make Halloween cards now? They do. Why? Because card companies are greedy. Also? Suddenly everyone has those giant inflatable pumpkin decorations in their lawn. Heidi and I saw about a million of them last night when we went running. True story.
Remember how last Halloween I fucked around so long with deciding what costume I wanted that I ended up having to go as a slutty devil? WELL NOT THIS YEAR. Because Heidi, Steve and I are going as Three's Company. Not the show itself, but the people. You know what I mean. If you know what we all look like, it makes perfect sense. PERFECT. Try not to get too excited. I know we are MIND-BLOWINGLY AWESOME but don't worry, one day you can be mind-blowingly awesome, too.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Anyway, so here is what I learned:
- People really don't like it when you stare at them
- They are (most of the time) not singing
I don't understand this. I am ALWAYS singing in my car. I don't see the point of having a radio/CD player in your car if it's not there to help you sing. I cannot tell you how many times I've humiliated myself by belting out Journey or Kelly Clarkson or Boyz II Men (oh yes) and then realized my windows were all open and people were staring. But it happens a lot.
Who ARE you people who don't sing in the car? You are completely missing out on that feeling you get when you're driving down the road on a warm, sunny day, and the windows are all down and the wind is blowing through your hair and the perfect song comes on the radio and you think, "this is it . . . if my life were a movie, this song would be on the soundtrack." How can you not sing along?
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Do movies I make up in my head have trailers*? I don't think so.
Also, the trailer doesn't say anything about the paintbrush thing. But you can watch the entire movie on Google video if you're really, really bored.
*sometimes, but only I can see them
Anyway, when we were at the Renaissance Festival the other weekend, we were walking around looking for a bathroom or something and this was after I'd had a couple of beers but before I'd had anything to eat, so I start rambling on and on about some movie I watched when I was a kid and I believe it went a little something like this:
Did you guys ever see that movie where the kid goes bald? And he makes this concoction out of peanut butter and all this other crap and rubs it on his head? But he uses too much of something and it makes his hair grow crazy fast? OK, and then? Since his hair is growing so fast, some evil dude kidnaps him so they can use his crazy fast growing hair to make magic paintbrushes. But then he might have gone bald again. I'm not sure why he was bald, but I think at one point he tried to superglue a wig to his head. Why are you guys looking at me like that? Didn't you ever watch that movie?
They so did not believe that this was a real movie, but thanks to the power of Google, I can tell you that IT IS a real movie and it's called The Peanut Butter Solution . And now I really want to see it. And I also want a peanut butter sandwich.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
"We saw something abnormal on your test and need you to come in for a biopsy," is what I heard about a month ago. I made my biopsy appointment, freaked out for a couple of days and then forgot about it until Friday, when I started freaking out again. My appointment was yesterday, which means I spent part of my precious day off with my legs up in stirrups while my doctor poked around my lady parts.
things you don't want to hear from your lady doctor PART 2:
"Basically this will be like a 20 minute pap smear."
Oh, that's it? That sounds like so much fun! I love pap smears! Um. 20 minutes? 20 minutes?!? I could watch an episode of The Daily Show in that amount of time! I just wish they'd told me beforehand. I would have taken a book to read.
things you don't want to hear from your lady doctor PART 3:
Me: Um . . . everything OK down there?
Dr: Fine. You just won't stop bleeding.
Me: Oh god.
Actually, the whole procedure wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Except for when they told me it was actually THREE biopsies and not just one. I like how they didn't tell me until after I was already in the exam room and had taken my pants off. It's hard to run away if all you're wearing over your bottom half is a thin, white, paper sheet. Trust me, I tried.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
It was pretty much one of the best weddings ever. For several reasons. Which I will list. In list format. With numbers. For your perusal. OK.
- Dinner = Steak, shrimp, green beans, roasted potatoes. OH MY GOD YOU GUYS IT WAS SO GOOD. I don't think I've ever finished a meal at a wedding before but I totally ate everything on my plate, except for the flower even though Heidi told me it was edible.
- There was so much dancing. Which I'm not usually a big fan of, but I'd had enough to drink, I'd swapped my high heels for flip flops, and Leah's now-husband Paul is a DJ. He's also a rocket scientist. Now. I'm not sure how good of a rocket scientist he is, but if he is as good a rocket scientist as he is a DJ then we will be landing on the moon any day now. What's that? We've already landed on the moon, you say? Then we shall be LIVING on the moon any day now. True story. It's science. I'll prove it to you. Only not right now because I'm very tired.
- Did I mention the drinks? Leah and Paul picked a drink special (appletinis), which were basically just vodka. Fine with me. My theory is they ran out of . . . whatever else they put in appletinis to make them apple-y so they just used vodka and a tiny bit of green food coloring. Also, after dinner they served cordials? Which were like . . . Kahlua type drinks or something? I really have no idea, but they were really good. Paul and Leah live in Huntsville now so I thought maybe it was a Southern thing? Cordials? A little help?
- BEST OF ALL. There was a COOKIE BAR. And they were so good. And they had take home boxes so you could . . . um, take cookies home. Someone told me that's a Northern Ohio thing to do and since Paul is from Buffalo and Leah is from Cleveland, I am giving all the credit to Leah.
Oh and also? There was no bouquet toss or chicken dancing so I didn't have to hide in the bathroom at all. Also, I was pretty smart for once, because after the reception we were told there would be beer pong in room 414 and I DIDN'T EVEN GO. Instead Heidi and I went back to our room and caught Spoon's second act on SNL (sad face) and gossiped about the wedding. I'm not saying I was completely smart. I managed to remember the gift but I forgot the card, which is why I wrote this note:
Paul and Leah, Happy Wedding! I (Jennie) forgot your card at home so I'll mail it when we get back. Oops! Congrats! Love, Jennie and Heidi
on a piece of Sheraton notepad paper and slipped it in the gift bag. CLASSY.*nothing was light on the tini last night
Friday, October 05, 2007
So tonight was supposed to be the Spoon concert. Sad face. Can we have a moment of silence?
Thank you. Heidi offered to lip sync and dance along to a Spoon CD so I would feel better about missing the concert, which was very nice of her, but I declined. I mean, to be honest, it certainly wasn't a SMART idea to plan on going to a concert tonight since we have to get up early tomorrow and drive to Cleveland for a wedding. Yes, another one. My friends? They need to stop it with the matrimony. I realize you get a lot of presents but stop being so greedy. Geez. Heh. Presents . . . that's why people get married, right? I can't think of any other reason.
The bride-to-be is my friend Leah from Wittenberg and she's marrying a rocket scientist. For serious. He works for NASA. WITH ROCKETS. He's also a DJ. A rocket scientist DJ. This may be the best wedding ever. I promise to take lots of pictures. I hope there are rockets there.
Thursday, October 04, 2007
What was I talking about? Right, babbling. So last night I went running. And I was going to shave my legs because . . . wow, seriously, they were gross, but then I figured that since it was dark outside and no one would be able to see anything, I'd just say "screw it" and go anyway. I suppose I could have worn pants instead of shorts but it was too hot for pants. And did I mention? It was dark? Really dark. So dark that when I was running around the pond I'd hate to know what I looked like because I was trying to dodge the huge piles of goose poop but BECAUSE OF THE DARKNESS I couldn't see the huge piles of goose poop until the very last minute so I was weaving around them like a drunk person who just got spun around in one of those things the astronauts train in. You know the ones I mean. The spinny thing. That like . . . makes their faces smush backwards? You know? Whatever.
So the other day I saw this picture of President Douche and he was wearing Crocs. Hold on, I will try to find it. Here it is. Not only is he wearing the ugliest shoes known to mankind, HE IS WEARING THEM WITH SOCKS. As much as I absolutely hate these shoes (and don't even find them that comfortable . . . and I know this because we tried them on and made fun of them in a shoe store in Nashville), I do find it somewhat comforting that, in addition to pretty much everything else in the world, the President and I also disagree on what shoes are acceptable to WEAR IN PUBLIC WHEN YOU ARE THE LEADER OF THE FREE WORLD. He should not be encouraging people to wear these. Kids look up to him, right? I mean, because he's the President. Not because he's George W. Bush. Even kids know enough not to look up to Dubya. Ha! I kid, I kid. No, I don't.
Do you see what I mean about the babbling?
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Do you see the red thing? It's kind of small (that's what she said) so I drew a picture of what it is:
He had balls hanging from his truck. BALLS! HANGING BALLS! Also, Ohio license plates are way fugly.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Well, I’m going to start fast. Then I’m going to run fast in the middle. Then I’m going to end fast.
I was telling my parents about the race last night and I don't think my dad believes we're actually going to do it. Not just because I have never run a five mile race before IN MY LIFE, but also because I say I'm going to do a lot of things that I never end up doing (see: play the guitar, write a novel, develop a time machine). But this race costs money so if I don't end up doing it, I'm out $17 and I don't know about you but I'm not in any position to wipe my ass with 17 dollars and throw it in the toilet and flush it away to China or anywhere else, for that matter.
Heidi and I went running last night and I told her that if anyone gets in my way during the Turkey Trot, I'm going to push them over. Or trip them. Or kick them in the babymaker. This was after I grabbed my boobs and jumped up and down to demonstrate how much they DIDN'T EVEN MOVE because I was wearing two sports bras. Apparently SOMEONE needs to work on her race etiquette before Thanksgiving.
Monday, October 01, 2007
Anyway, my life is now complete because I have seen a RENAISSANCE FESTIVAL WEDDING. Or at least part of one. OK, really just the end. But whatever, close enough. I hope I didn't ruin their day by trailing along after the wedding party taking pictures of them on their way to the reception hall, but really I don't care. No joke.
You know what else isn't a good idea? Drinking a bunch of beer out in the hot, hot heat. I did have some chicken fingers, curly fries and like one sip of Heidi's water, though. That ALMOST balanced out all the beer. You'd think after walking around in the sun drinking all day, I would have been able to sleep last night, but you'd be wrong. Because my body or my brain or both hate me and want me to wake up at least 87 times a night OR NOT FALL ASLEEP AT ALL. Also? Everyone in the complex has their windows open and last night some stupid baby was crying so loud for like . . . EVER and I swear to the little baby Jesus that at one point I heard its mom yell, "SHUT UP!" and I don't blame her one bit because SERIOUSLY BABY SHUT UP.