Why is your family ROSS?

You guys, I'm telling you, when she runs, she looks like a cross between Kermit The Frog and The Six Million Dollar Man.

I think I need to master the Phoebe Buffay method of running, because it looks like a hell of a lot more fun than the way I run now:

It's not us, it's THEM! Them and their stupid boy . . . penises!

Me: Heidi . . .
Heidi: What?
Me: Do you wanna skip the gym and not go running and get shitfaced instead?
Heidi: God, yes.

Last night, for absolutely no reason whatsoever (heh), Heidi and I had a "Boys are Stupid Night." Obviously, we don't think ALL boys are stupid. Just some of them. OK, a lot of them. Also, they're smelly.

Anyway. Boys are Stupid (and sometimes Smelly) Night included Friends, margaritas, and chips and salsa. And best of all, Nancy! I don't know if you guys remember Nancy, but she is the one who went to Dinosaur World with me so that automatically makes her awesome but you guys have NO IDEA.

Obviously, before we could start Boys are Stupid Night, we had to go to the liquor store. We bought stuff for margaritas and also wine from the clearance section. I refuse to spend more than $10 on a bottle of wine because I can't tell the difference between good wine and cheap wine anyway and also I'm poor. If I can get away with it, I'd spend less than $5 on wine. It's not like I'm buying Boone's Farm, though, I mean, HELLO. There is this place called Trader Joe's (duh) that sells 3 buck Chuck so it's not like we're suffering. Oh, Charles Shaw. How can I show my appreciation for your cheap, cheap wine? I would offer to have your babies, but if I did that, then I couldn't drink your wine and that is a lose-lose situation, if you think about it. I prefer my situations win-win (win).

Where was I? Oh, right. Boys are Stupid Night. I mean, really, we didn't even talk that much about how Boys are Stupid. We spent more time going over the stupid shit we did in college (which obviously took up the majority of the evening) and then the rest of the time we spent gossiping about our friends which kind of defeats the purpose of Boys are Stupid Night, but whatever. Considering I got the idea for Boys are Stupid Night from this episode of Friends, you're lucky we didn't accidentally burn our apartment down.

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.

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]
Me: HOOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEENNNNNNKKK!
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.

I don't need a nicotine patch. I smoke cigarettes.

Last night, I was sitting around watching Friends (season 3 disc one, home of my favorite episode, like, EVER . . . Look at me. I'm Chandler. Could I BE wearing any more clothes?) um, anyway. So I was sitting around watching Friends and thinking I should do something productive. But instead of doing that, I played Super Mario Brothers for a while. Not very long though because I SUCK SO HARD at it. Seriously. I'm terrible. And I get mad and throw the controller down and pout, only no one was home to see my world-class pouting last night so it was pointless. After I got angry because I used up my four lives within like five minutes (I am not exaggerating), I decided to do something really productive and clean.

It started with just cleaning my bathroom. I don't want to gross you out or anything, but it had been a really, really long time since I cleaned my bathroom. It's not my fault, though! I never feel like cleaning when I get home from work so I usually wait until the weekend. But the past couple of weekends have been so incredibly busy (or, you know, I was too hungover to be around cleaning products for fear of passing out and hitting my head on the edge of the bathtub and bleeding to death in my dirty, dirty hole of a bathroom) and I DIDN'T HAVE TIME. Also, I just really hate cleaning the bathroom.

Cleaning the bathroom led to changing Phoebe's litter box which led to vacuuming my room which led to changing my sheets which led to dusting the living room which led to vacuuming the living room which led to taking out all the trash which led to washing my hands because . . . ew, which led to Febrezing the entire apartment. Mmm. I also went through my drawers (heh) and picked out some t-shirts and pajama pants to get rid of. Because I don't think I need pajama pants that I've had as long as my high school diploma. True story.

By the time I was finished Monica Gellering everything, it was time to go to bed. And when I say go to bed, I mean lie in bed and stare at the ceiling (or Futuruma) until I sigh, give up, and get up and check my e-mail. I have trouble sleeping most nights, but Sunday nights are the worst. What with the sleeping til noon and all. I'll have to admit, though, it was really nice to get up this morning and not trip over the five pairs of shoes I normally have littering the floor around my bed. I only tripped over Phoebe. And that's normal. Because she hates me and is trying to kill me. Evil whore. Oh god, I think she heard me. You guys, I'm scared.

Hey, just so you know, it's NOT that common, it DOESN'T happen to every guy, and it IS a big deal!

As you might have gathered from my roommate's comment to my last post (Too busy to go look at it? Here: "I almost quit reading this because I was bored. How do we live together? We couldn't be more different. Except for the Friends obsession thing." That's what she said hahahahahahaha um, anyway), we are very different. She likes country music. I like . . . well, pretty much anything else, but namely whiny indie rock. She thinks Kenny Chesney is the epitome of hotness, I think he looks like George Costanza. WHAT? That's not that harsh, she calls John Mayer "Fugs." It's pretty safe to say that we will never fight over the same man, because we have very different requirements for how a guy might get invited to our pants party. Which is good, because it means my claims on Jake Gyllenhaal and John Krasinski are safe.

We differ on more than just music and men. Given the chance, I could easily become one of those hermit-type cat ladies who stays inside all the time so she won't have to talk to anyone, unless it's through text messaging or The Internets. It's not that I dislike people as a whole . . . oh wait, that's exactly what it is. Heidi actually likes to go out and do stuff, but the majority of the time I'd be perfectly happy to sit at home by myself drinking wine and watching the same movies over and over.

Also? Heidi is in a four-year-old, committed relationship and I . . . have no idea what it is I'm doing, but it sure as hell doesn't involve commitment. Or four-year-olds, for that matter, because that would be wrong and very, very gross. I'm sure one day I might be able to trick someone into marrying me, but until then I will wander the Earth alone just like the Incredible Hulk. And Carrot Top.

Heidi likes to shop. OK, loves to shop. I find it a pain in the ass to shop and the only things I really like buying are shoes and t-shirts, and even then I'd rather do it over The Internets. She's never seen or read Pride & Prejudice. I've never listened to a Kenny Chesney song all the way through on purpose. She's a little bit country. I'm a little bit rock & roll. Well, she LIKES country and is FROM the country and if I'm a little bit rock & roll, it's the really nerdy kind. Like Weezer. ANOTHER THING I love that she does not.

You know how I procrastinate? Oh, OK, well, I procrastinate. A lot. Heidi does not. I don't think she understands just why I procrastinate so much and I certainly don't understand the inclination to get things done right away. What would I worry about if I didn't have all of those self-inflicted deadlines hanging over my head? Seriously. If I didn't have stuff to worry about, I'd have to invent stuff to worry about and I DO THAT ANYWAY so I really don't have time to argue about this right now, OK?!

We do agree on the important things, though. Miller Lite over Bud Light. Bridal showers are icky and boring, unless they serve alcohol. Cooking is hard*. But most important? We both know WITHOUT A DOUBT that absolutely anything in life can be related back to Friends. Amazing? I KNOW!

*bonus to this link: it's The One With the Bag of Semen (not a real Friends episode)