Did you miss me? No? Not even a little? Can you at least lie?

Oh, hiiiiiii, Internet. I just realized I haven't posted, and I mean really posted, in like...weeks. I have no good excuse, except that my talks-a-lot coworker transferred to another department and AS IF that weren't enough of a prize, I also got to take over all of her projects. I'm so lucky. She really wasn't doing much (hence the transfer), but it was enough. Once I added it to all my other duties (heh, duties), it made for very busy days.

Volunteering started again last month, and while it's only every other Tuesday, it sure seems like it takes up more time than that. Mostly, I think, because kids in my age group are actually showing up this year, which means I have to plan activities. Sometimes this is easy, sometimes not so much. Also! Each and every Tuesday that I have volunteering, I worry my way up 75, wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin' that traffic will be OK and no one will decide to crash in front of me because that's why they do it, you know. So my plans get effed up.

The past couple weekends have been pretty busy with a variety of obligations, although I hesitate to call them obligations because it's all been fun stuff, but it's been time-consuming stuff. For someone who'd rather sit at home in her pajamas with a full season of Veronica Mars and a book to keep her company than have actual human interaction, this can be a tad exhausting. Heh. It's not that I'm anti-social, I just need quiet time sometimes.

Anyway, as far as I know, this week is not supposed to be as busy as past weeks and I'm not promising to blog every day or anything (you're welcome) but I think I can manage to start blogging more than once every two weeks. Once a week, maybe. I don't know if I can do more. I mean, I'm already exhausted PLUS, I'm a farmer now.

One thing I definitely need to do this week is start running again. Or working out in some way. Walking from the sofa to the kitchen OBVIOUSLY doesn't count and OBVIOUSLY doesn't so much work on the "Let's Be Healthy!" front. My steady diet of pizza, fast food, and candy, however, are totally working on the "Jennie doesn't fit into her pants anymore," front. Last night we went to The Melting Pot for Joe's dad's birthday and I'm pretty sure I almost exploded my stomach with melty cheesy goodness. So yes. More running is called for, I think, even though every piece of me HATES IT HATES IT HATES IT. I have no excuse tonight, though. I'm marinating some chicken for a quick and easy dinner. The weather is mild and sunny. My running clothes are sitting in a neat pile on my dresser. And my iPod? Fully charged. Quick, somebody help me think of an excuse. Something good. It might involve zombies, who knows?

On second thought, if the Zombie Apocalypse should happen soon (and let's face it, it's GOING TO HAPPEN), I'd better be able to run more than a mile without wanting to die, especially if we're being attacked by some of those speedy quick zombies.

tell me again about the rabbits, George

I recently started the Couch to 5K program because I hadn't gone running since, um, way before it was even too cold to go running, and I quit the gym a long time ago so I didn't have access to a treadmill EITHER. That's sort of a lie, because Joe's apartment complex has a fitness room and he said SEVERAL TIMES that I could use it whenever I wanted but I'm far too lazy to do that. So I didn't. Anyway, I'm on Week 2 and it's going well, mostly because weeks 1 and 2 don't involve as much running as the rest of the weeks, which is awesome because sometimes running makes me want to die. Not this program, though. This program is my friend. We go to the mall together and then get ice cream. Ha, just kidding, I hate the mall. Shopping gives me hives.

Anyway. I went running yesterday because OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS, the weather was perfect. Sunny and warm and beautiful. It was a little windy but I'll take it. After I finished the program, I decided to keep walking because I wanted to see the ducks at the pond. I love the ducks. They're so cute! Sometimes when they cross the street to the pond, I get worried that they might get hit and I have conversations like this:

[in Heidi's brand new, shiny car]

Me: Look! Ducks!
Heidi: I like them.
Me: Me too.
Heidi: They're taking a long time to cross.
Me: OMG look how fast that guy is driving! He's not slowing down! He's going to hit the ducks! What if he hits the ducks? OK, he stopped. Good. Otherwise I would have to beat up his car.
Heidi: Wow.

And the day before!

Me: Look! Ducks!
Joe: Wow.
Me: I love ducks.
Joe: OK.
Me: Look at that one! He has a mohawk thing!
Joe: ...
Me: You know what I love best? When ducks put their little ducks butts up in the air. I love that.
Joe: Yep.
Me: Look, more ducks!
Joe: Are you retarded?
Me: I don't think so. I just love ducks, is all.

And SCENE.

Now go away or I shall taunt you a second time.

So it turns out that skipping a week of running is NOT, in fact, a good idea. I went running after work yesterday and wanted to die fifteen times. It's true. I counted. And then I thought I actually MIGHT die when I ran into the coyote.

Coyote: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Me: Um.
Coyote: Ahem. Excuse me.
Me: Can you let me pass?
Coyote: No.
Me: Please?
Coyote: Only if you can answer three questions.
Me: Sigh. Fine.
Coyote: What is your name?
Me: Jennie.
Coyote: What is your quest?
Me: Um. To go home and collapse on the floor until my heart rate returns to normal.
Coyote: What is your favorite color?
Me: Blue.
Coyote: Really?
Me: Yes.
Coyote: You're not just saying that? Cause of the movie?
Me: No. I'm not just saying that cause of the movie.
Coyote: OK, fine, go ahead.
Me: Byeeeeeeee!

He was really nice. He didn't try to eat my face once, which was nice.

The other night, I went running IN THE DARK. I got home from volunteering and saw that Heidi had been to the gym and so I shamed myself into running. I'm not going running by myself in the dark anymore. At least not around Halloween. Because . . . see . . . that's when ghosts come out and do stuff. And I don't know for sure, but I think if zombies were going to attack, it would be on Halloween because they could just hang out on someone's porch, pretending to be a Halloween decoration, and then when the owner comes out of the house they'd be all, "AAAAAAAAAAUUUURRRRRGH! I WILL BITE YOU NOW!" only not so articulate. True story. Also, it's dangerous to run at night. There are still piles of branches and crap from the windicane that happened A MONTH AGO and when I ran by a big pile, I didn't see a stick sticking out of the pile and it scratched my leg. It's OK, though. It's just a flesh wound.

Hee! I just had this conversation with one of our field agents in Georgia:

Me: HR, this is Jennie.
Her: Hey, Jennie.
Me: Good morning! How are you?
Her: Oh, god, you sound so Northern.
Me: . . .

I mean . . . I talk to her almost EVERY DAY. Hey, remember when my blog had a point? Yeah, me neither.

PS: I still need help with my Halloween costume idea. Please do my thinking for me, I'd be very appreciative. Here are the stipulations: I don't want to wear a wig, so whatever I dress up as has to have dark brown hair. I don't want to spend a lot of money. I'm lazy, so I don't want to do a lot of sewing or gluing or anything. I will be outside, so I'm not dressing as slutty anything.

they call me 'quiet girl', but I'm a riot, Mary, Jo, Lisa, always the same, THAT'S NOT MY NAME

Dear people (mostly MEN) I work with,

My name is Jennie. Not any of the following:

Amy
Claudia
Little lady
Young'un
Girl
Kid

Thank you.

In other news, I totally got up early this morning and went running. I KNOW. I had to, though. Well, I didn't HAVE to. When the alarm went off, my first thought was, "if I just turn it off, I could sleep for another hour and a half . . . that's a lot of sleep." But I did get up. And I ran. I ran so far away. I just ran. Oh my god, Amy Jennie, shut up. Anyway, the reason I got up and ran this morning instead of running after work is because I, um, DON'T run after work. Instead, I just . . . don't run. Because it's hot. So hot. And also I'm all tired after work and don't feel like moving, let alone running. Wow, this is a good story. I should tell it again, yes?

I totally got up early this morning and went running. I KNOW. I had to, though. Well, I didn't HAVE to. When the alarm went off, my first thought was, "if I just turn it off, I could sleep for another hour and a half . . . that's a lot of sleep." But I did get up. And I ran. I ran so far away. I just ran. Oh my god, Amy Jennie, shut up. Anyway, the reason I got up and ran this morning instead of running after work is because I, um, DON'T run after work. Instead, I just . . . don't run. Because it's hot. So hot. And also I'm all tired after work and don't feel like moving, let alone running.

HAHAHAHAHA. Wow. I think I got too much oxygen this morning or something. Yikes.

So. I had volunteering last night, and there are three different age groups, and I lead the group of the wee, little ones. Which is fine, but some of these wee, little ones tend to have about a ten minute attention span (at best), so that means I'd better bring a lot of activities for them. I was so, so prepared last night. I'd gone to the library to get picture books about dead people (or picture books about GRIEVING, whatever), and I'd come up with this sweet activity BASED on one of the books, and I even ran out on my lunch hour yesterday to pick up extra supplies so it'd be super awesome. And then I got to volunteering early and set everything up in my room so it was all ready when the kids got there.

And then none of the wee, little ones showed up. Bastards. Just kidding. But seriously! I had so much fun stuff, plus M&Ms, because I'm always afraid the kids won't like me, so I bribe them with candy. Sigh.

And now I have deja vu. GREAT. That's going to throw off my whole day.

listenin' too long, to one song

QUESTION: What do you guys listen to when you're running? I think I need some new running music. My most favorite song EVER to run to is Sing Me Spanish Techno. If that helps. With the recommending. PLEASE RECOMMEND SOMETHING. If you don't, I fear that soon I will stop running and fall to my knees on the sidewalk and just cry.

Speaking of music (wow, nice segue, Jennie), I went to a concert this weekend and it rocked my face off. My whole face. Fell off. Onto the floor. And then I picked it up and washed it off, because gross, it fell on the floor at a concert. Anyway, We Are Scientists were the ones responsible for my face falling on the floor. I'd be upset, but it was a really good show.

You know what happened, though? I spilled my beer. I mean, this is not unusual. It happens a lot, actually. But this time, it so wasn't my fault. I was just sitting there, minding my own business, when all the sudden my beer bottle was upside down, trapped between my leg and the wall. And I was all, "What the hell? No one was even touching the table! UNFAIR UNFAIR I WANT MY BEER WAAAAAAAAAH." Then I noticed that all of the bottles kept slowly inching toward me and no one was even touching them, because the music was so loud that the table was vibrating, which was making the bottles move AND IT WAS CRAZY. Like Poltergeist crazy, but not really, because no one got sucked into the TV. Anyway. So that happened. Also, we saw this girl slump over a table and throw up on the floor. Amateur. Also also, Kat, they had PBR in cans.

Also also also, this was written in one of the bathroom stalls:



and I didn't even write it.

I felt a great disturbance in The Force

I have some bad news. Really bad. You should probably sit down. I got to work today at the same time I always do, checked my work email, and then went to see if it was my turn on Scrabulous. And . . . oh god . . . it was GONE. JUST GONE. NO MORE SCRABULOUS. I guess it's because Hasbro hates me and wants me to cry all day long.

You guys, I am a mess and not just because of the Scrabulous loss. I came back from Put-in-Bay with a wicked sunburn, a huge bruise on my knee and no recollection of obtaining it, and a blister on my hand from burning it on the oven. This is why I shouldn't try to cook. People only get hurt, and by people, I mean ME. Also all the people who get food poisoning. Then yesterday, I tried to tune my guitar and a string broke and whipped me on the wrist. It hurt. You may be asking yourself, "why is Jennie tuning a guitar?" or maybe even, "Jennie has a guitar?" and the answers are, "because an out of tune guitar sounds like shit," and, "yes, I do have a guitar." I bought it my senior year of high school because I thought teaching myself to play would be easier than it was. Also because it was blue. It turns out, teaching yourself how to play the guitar is NOT easy. I think I was hoping I would just pick up the guitar and magically know how to play. Like I'd be the Rainman of singer-songwriting. Alas, I am not. So, recently, I got a book to help teach me and yesterday was the first day I actually TRIED to do anything and then a stupid string broke. AND THEN (no and then!) I realized that I haven't changed the strings since I got the guitar. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it wasn't like I was playing it or anything. So. Moral of the story? I need new strings.

After I broke my guitar, I decided to go running and I almost died. I know I say that every time, but a combination of very little sleep this weekend, spending too much time in the sun, the HOT HOT HEAT and HUMID HUMID, um, HUMIDITY, and the fact that I haven't run in weeks meant I seriously for real almost fell on the sidewalk and died. I know this means I need to start running in the morning before work, but waking up that early makes me die, too. This is really a losing situation any way you look at it.

Chah-lie bit me.

I used the lotion I won at the tea party this morning. Now I smell like pink grapefruit. JEALOUS?

Last night, a bug flew in my eye while I was running. IT REALLY HURT. It's since been evicted, but my eyeball still hurts and now I'm worried I have a weird bug-eye disease.

Also, last night, Heidi and I went downtown to scope out some venues for Tamara's bachelorette party. One place serves wine and LOTS OF IT. I really hope we go there. Mostly, because it's within walking distance of a bunch of other bars and junk and bars and junk are really what you want for a bachelorette party. I don't know why we don't go downtown more often. It's not like downtown Dayton can compete with, um, any other cities, but there's stuff to do. FOR INSTANCE, Uno's pizza is down there and while that's not really something to DO, it's something to EAT, and that's almost as good. I don't know what I'm saying, so I'm going to stop now.

So we ate some Uno's pizza last night, which is why we felt compelled to go running, because there are approximately 800 calories in one bite of Uno's pizza. But it's worth it because it's SO GOOD, you guys. You know what, though? There are some freaky ass statues downtown. Like, they're made of bronze or whatever you make statues out of (not chocolate), but they're wearing REAL CLOTHES. They are, and I quote, "creepy as fuck." I just quoted myself. Is that weird?

Tomorrow, I'm dog-sitting for my aunt and uncle FOR OVER A WEEK. Dude, Jennie, lay off the Caps Lock. Anyway, they're going to California or something, and since dog's aren't self-sufficient like cats and babies, they need someone to feed them. So prepare for this blog to explode with crazy for the next week and a half, because I won't be able to spew my verbal diarrhea at Heidi. Wow, that's a disgusting image. I'm sorry.

fuck wank bugger shitting arse head and hole!*

I realize I probably say this every week, but this is the LONGEST. WEEK. EVER. The LONGEST. WEEK. EVER. is similar to WORST. DAY. EVER. Week, in that it lasts forever, but the days aren't as bad. My days haven't been bad at all. I mean, we've had ice cream at work the past two days and we have a luncheon with MASHED POTATOES tomorrow. Any day that includes MASHED POTATOES can't be all bad. I don't know why I keep abusing CAPS LOCK. I'm sorry. I'll stop.

I don't know if you've noticed, but it's summer now. I can tell it's summer because every time I go outside, my face melts off, which feels just as weird as you might imagine. Anyway, since it's hot as balls (what?) outside, I can't run immediately after work anymore. Well, I COULD, but I don't want to because, even though my face is nothing special, I've sort of gotten used to it so I try to avoid the "face melting" thing as much as possible. I don't want to look like that guy from Raiders of the Lost Ark. You know the one I mean. Don't pretend you haven't seen that movie 80 times. Everyone has.

Um. Right. So, I've been going running later in the evening, like around 9. Because it's still not dark yet at 9. But it's dim enough (what?) that the lightening bugs are out. I love lightening bugs. I'm a pretty simple person, really, and if I could just see lightening bugs all day long, I'd probably be in a much better mood than I normally am.

The only bad part about running this late is there are bugs EVERYWHERE. I mean, they're probably EVERYWHERE all day long, but they're worse at night. Last night, I accidentally swallowed one, because I can't run with my mouth closed because if I tried to run with my mouth closed, I wouldn't be able to breathe and then I'd fall over and die.

SIDENOTE: Right now, on the radio, THIS VERY MINUTE, they are playing "Summer Nights," from Grease. I am fighting the urge to jump on my desk and sing. I know all the words to every song in that movie AND I AM NOT ASHAMED. We all had to do something with our childhoods and I spent mine watching the same movies over and over. The end.

I could keep writing, I suppose, but I really have nothing else to tell you, Internets. Clearly. I mean, I just wrote about swallowing a bug. So I'll stop now. YOU'RE WELCOME.

(In completely unrelated news, people can be so fucking stupid. SIGH.)

(In completely awesome news, UNICORN DEER!)

(OK, I'm done)

*thank you, Heather . . . and, of course, Billy Mack

I hope my Wii knee will be OK

I'm going to a sleepover tonight. That's right, I said a sleepover. My friend Nancy (you know Nancy . . . Nancy of Dinosaur World! Nancy of the Penis Cake! OK, that's enough) got married in the Caribbean last month and she's FINALLY back and done with crazy stuff (until, you know, her reception in May . . . where there will be a hot dog bar . . . don't be jealous) and since her HUSBAND (yikes) is out of town tonight, she's invited us over for wine and Wii and, I'm assuming, boy talk and pillow fights and prank phone calls. That? Was the longest sentence ever.

She also has about a billion pictures for us to look at, including pictures from the bachelorette party that almost got snowed out (snowed in?) and, I'm just guessing here, but I think there may be some incriminating pictures I need to steal and burn so no one ever sees them. Apparently she and her HUSBAND (yikes) got a new grill (what is with you married people and your weirdo, grown-up purchases?) and so we're all going to attempt to grill hot dogs and hamburgers without burning their house down. The back up plan is pizza. I think it's good that we have a back up plan, seeing as how Heidi once set herself on fire with a marshmallow.

Last night, I went running because . . . well, I'm trying this new thing where I don't sit around reading and surfing the Internets 24 hours a day. It's . . . different. Anyway, the geese, they are everywhere and they are so mean! I was walking down the path by the pond and this lady goose (I guess?) was sitting right in the middle of the path. And this mean boy goose (I guess?) was like . . . I don't know, guarding her or something and I just tried to walk by them and he started hissing at me. I think he was hissing anyway. I had my music up pretty loud so I couldn't really hear him, but he had his mouth open and was flapping his wings at me and you guys? I'm not going to lie to you. I thought I might die.

Also, a little show called The Office came back to television last night, and the world made sense again. Heh.

So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.

The half a pot of coffee I drank earlier has started to wear off, and thank goodness for that, because I was being far too productive for my own good, what with the vacuuming and the writing and whatnot. Alright, I didn't really do that much writing, but that's only because . . . yeah, I have no good reason.

But, you know, I gathered all the trash together, which I find exhausting. I haven't actually taken it out to the dumpster yet because I'm still in my pajamas (yes, I'm aware it's 1:30 in the afternoon) and CALL ME CRAZY, but I'm just not comfortable walking around the apartment complex in Strawberry Shortcake pajama pants. Not sure why.

Anyway, so my laptop and I are getting along really well. I think he/she needs a name, though. Suggestions? The best part about having a laptop now is that NOT ONLY can I spend half the weekend lounging around in bed reading, but I can also read the internet from bed. Heidi thinks I'm more obsessed with the internet than books, but I told her that, if given the choice, I'd give up the internet in a heartbeat. Sorry, guys. At Tamara's suggestion, Heidi is going to get this tattooed on her ass. I'm not sure why, but hopefully I'll have pictures to share soon. Only I hope not, because . . . yikes.

So now I'm sitting here contemplating whether I should crawl under the covers and finish my book or go outside for a run. I'm leaning toward the run, because I was out on the balcony earlier and it's so nice outside. I'm a little worried about the geese, though. You see, I like to run around the pond, but the geese are nesting and the boy geese are getting a little mean. I understand that they're only trying to protect their lady geese, but it's not like I'm poking around their eggs and trying to steal them. I don't even like goose eggs. I'm guessing here, since I've never actually HAD a goose egg. Do you think they're golden goose eggs, like in Willy Wonka? Oh wait. Those were swans. No, it was a goose, right? I need to brush up on my Wonka knowledge.

I think the run would be better for me. I need to get rid of all this nervous energy I have on account of I'M SEEING SPOON TONIGHT. At least, I'm supposed to see Spoon tonight. I'm excited, but mostly nervous since last year I was supposed to see them and they decided to go on SNL instead. Remember that? I almost cried. Don't you feel sorry for me?

I think in the back of my mind, I'm expecting to get down there and someone will come onstage and be like, "sorry, suckers, Spoon decided they'd rather take a nap on their tour bus than come inside and play for you all, so . . . go home." If this happens, obviously the only course of action will be for me to break onto their tour bus and kidnap them until they agree to play. Logic. Anyway, I hope to make the local news, but if I'm really lucky, maybe CNN. Fingers crossed!

she's a maniac, maniac, on the floor

Heidi and I went running a little bit ago, because the weather has gotten a teeny bit nicer and we're trying this new thing where we don't sit like useless blobs on the sofa when the sun is shining. However. When we left for our run, it was overcast and windy and just a little bit cold. But then! As we hopscotched over goose poop on the sidewalk, the clouds parted and the sun came out and was all, "hey, bitches, how you been?" The sun is not very polite, you see.

So, we ran. We ran so far away. We just ran. We ran both night and day. Jennie, stop. Anyway. We got to a point and stopped to walk and that's when we almost passed out from heat exhaustion. Heidi had a t-shirt underneath her long-sleeved shirt, so she simply took off her long-sleeved shirt. And wrapped it around her neck like a cape, I might add. But I thought I was a goner, because I was wearing my long-sleeved shirt UNDER my t-shirt. I figured I'd have to leave it on, unless I wanted to take both shirts off and flash the entire neighborhood and I really didn't want to do that. But then I remembered Flashdance and thought maybe, just maybe, I could pull the bra trick with my long-sleeved t-shirt and like two years later, I did it! Wow. That story was lame. Sorry.

I have more impressive news. Today is March 31st, which means I have posted random crap for all of you to read EVERY DAY for THREE STRAIGHT MONTHS. And if you don't think that's some sort of accomplishment, then I don't want to know you anymore.

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:

Hummus, I got the hummus.

You know how sometimes they (who is they?) say that a really smart person doesn't have any common sense? Well, if you changed "really smart person" to "someone of average intelligence," then that could totally apply to me.

For instance! Feast your eyes on my stupidity! Earlier this week, I caught the plague from someone. Either Heidi or one of the 800 people at work who were walking around sneezing and coughing on everything and everyone. I seriously considered wearing a surgical mask to work and the only reason I didn't was because I didn't have one. I began to miss working at the orthodontist's office, where I could regularly wipe my phone and computer and self down with antibacterial wipes. Or at the very least, walk around wearing latex gloves. But I can't do that anymore, because there IS no latex in my new office building. Unless you count the condom dispenser in the bathroom, but it's not like I can walk around with condoms on my hands. I kid, I kid. I'd never put condoms on my hands. Zing! Yeah, I don't know.

Anyway, so I started to feel not good Tuesday night. So not good that I ended up staying home from work on Wednesday, where I sat around in my pajamas and watched half a season of Arrested Development and slept for, oh, about 18 hours. True story. No, it's not. I only slept 17 hours. I did watch half a season of Arrested Development, though. Season one. The middle half. True story. Oh my god, Jennie, stop it.

I went back to work yesterday (booooo!), but I still felt like poo for the majority of the day. Yet, FOR SOME REASON, when I got home from work I was all, "I should go running." What? No. But in my head, I kept telling myself not to be a pussy, that I didn't feel THAT bad, and GODDAMN IT GET YOUR RUNNING SHOES ON AND GET YOUR ASS OUTSIDE.

So I went running and it wasn't terrible, other that it was really fucking cold outside and by the end I couldn't really feel my ears. Oh, and also my chest hurt for the rest of the night but it feels alright now. I mean, sure, I'm a little more ADD than usual (I put deodorant on no fewer than three times this morning because I couldn't remember if I'd done it or not) and I'm sort of (really) sleepy, but it's Friday and I'm ADD and sleepy on Fridays ANYWAY. I guess the moral of the story is that I'm stupid and have no common sense but it's OK because it hasn't killed me.

Yet.

_____

Today on The Collective, who would you do?

maybe I'm unbreakable, just like Bruce Willis

Because I (wanna) quit the gym (!), I decided I need to start running again. Outside. In the elements. Luckily, the weather this week is supposed to be freakishly warm. Well, not freakishly warm as in it's going to be 800,000 degrees because CLEARLY if it was that hot, I wouldn't be sitting here typing. I might be incredibly awesome, but I'm not immortal. That I know of. I've never really tested it, other than consistently trying to drink all the alcohol in a three mile radius. I guess I COULD be immortal. I mean, I'm still here despite all the times I've fallen over and hit my head on stuff. Oh my god, you guys, what if I AM immortal? That would be amazing. Except that I'm totally wasting it. Oh well.

I almost talked myself out of going running because it looked like it might rain. Other excuses I have used to not go running: it's too cold, it's too hot, it's too sunny, it's too windy, my toe kind of hurts, I don't feel like putting on a sports bra, I can't find my shoes, it's too dark and I don't want to get assraped, there's an America's Next Top Model marathon on TV and Tyra isn't going to watch herself. Except she totally would because she's an attention whore. Anyway, irrelevant. What IS relevant is that it wasn't raining when I got home from work. It was somewhat cloudy and MSN told me that it was supposed to rain. I know because it had a little picture of a cloud with rain drops coming out. That either means rain or the cloud is crying and why would the cloud be crying? Maybe because he embarrassed himself in front of his cloud friends, I guess. In which case, he should stop crying because they're going to make fun of him even MORE if he keeps up the pussy baby whining. Did I ever tell you guys about the children's book I wrote in high school? WELL. We had to write and illustrate a children's book and so I wrote this story about how all the colors in the world were arguing with each other. Red was all, "I'm the best!" and then green was like, "uh-uh, untrue!" and yellow was all, "try having sunlight without ME, suckers!" and then this cloud came out and was like, "you kids be quiet, I'm trying to sleep!" and then she got angry and started shooting lightning and pissing rain on everything. THEN all the colors made a rainbow. Barf. I'm pretty sure I have this "book" at the apartment somewhere. That would be phenomenal. I think it might be even worse than The Evil Summer. Oh wait, that would be impossible.

_____

Today on The Collective, Abigail loves a LOT of people.

I don't care if Monday's blue

Yesterday, I spent the majority of the afternoon trying work up the energy to go for a run. This is standard. When I do eventually make myself go running, I make up arbitrary rules, like "don't look down," and "stop counting your footsteps," and "you have to run until the end of the next song," and it's all fine until I'm at the end of my run and I keep almost running through goose poop that is seemingly EVERYWHERE around the apartment complex and also my mp3 player keeps playing Coldplay and making me want to just lie down in the grass and die already, but then suddenly everything is OK because the next song is Champagne Supernova and the next thing I know, I'm not tired anymore and I'm practically hopscotching through the goose poop.

the turkey trot?

Trotted.

Now I am going to go eat 27 helpings of mashed potatoes.

Yeah, there were horses, and a man on fire, and I killed a guy with a trident.

Yesterday, I spent the majority of the morning and early afternoon arguing with myself. It went something like this:

Me: You should go running.
Me: I don't want to.
Me: But the race is on Thursday!
Me: Like skipping one day of running is going to matter.
Me: GET UP, FATTY!

So, I finally guilted myself into going running, even though it was -20 degrees outside (no, it wasn't) and all this running has made my knees age like 80 years. And while I was out running, I decided that HEY! wouldn't it be funny to run to mom and dad's house? HILARIOUS! If by hilarious you mean mildly amusing but not even. Do you find it strange that I live within running distance of my parents' house? Well, I do. Although, if Forrest Gump taught us anything, it's that ANYWHERE is within running distance. Except somewhere that's across the ocean. BUT I suppose you could build a raft and sail it across the ocean and run in place or something the whole time, but that seems a little illogical. So don't do that, OK? I don't want you to get eaten by a shark or a whale or the Loch Ness Monster. I'm just kidding. Nessie would never eat anyone. Oh my god.

ANYWAY. I ran to my parents' house to say hi and it was a huge, huge mistake. Not because I don't like seeing my parents (because, hi, my parents are awesome), but because I shouldn't have stopped. When I went back outside to run home, I so didn't want to. But I did. Sigh. Wow, good story, Jennie. TELL IT AGAIN.

This morning, when my alarm went off, the DJs were doing the weather forecast for the week. I got all excited when they started talking about a warm front coming in. SIXTY DEGREE WEATHER, PEOPLE! IN NOVEMBER! But, unfortunately, the warm front is only staying until Wednesday and it's supposed to be really cold and rainy and disgusting by Thursday morning JUST IN TIME FOR THE RACE. Now. THAT is hilarious. Caps lock off.

Michael, 5K means five kilometers, not five thousand miles.

The other day, Heidi and I were watching live TV, which doesn't happen very often because we TiVo everything. Not like, everything in the whole world, but like everything that we watch. You know? YOU know.

Anyway, so this meant we saw commercials. Which hardly ever happens. And there was this one commercial where this kid is playing in a pool and it starts raining and his mom or dad (don't remember which and NOT IMPORTANT) comes out and is all, "get inside, Timmy, before the lightening gets you." I may be embellishing. And then this lady comes on and is all . . . 1 in every 150,000 people is struck by lightening. BUT one in every 150 children will be diagnosed with autism. And I was all . . . what? I mean, I sort of get what they were trying to say. Like, your kid probably won't get struck by lightening but he might get autism. OK. But what's with just comparing random statistics like that? It's like, um, 1 in every 150,000 people will have accidental butt sex but 1 in every 150 people will eat mediocre ice cream this year. Yeah, I realize I'm not proving my point very well, but what you DON'T know is . . . I don't care.

Anyway, so Heidi and I tried to go running earlier. We were going to go up to the track at the high school, because it's flat and made of rubber and doesn't make my shins want to fall off. When we left, it had started raining but we decided to drive up to the high school anyway. Because . . . we thought that like five miles away it wouldn't be raining? OK. But it was. And then we saw lightening.

Heidi: Uh oh, lightening.
Me: Well, don't worry. You're much more likely to come down with autism than get struck by lightening.

We didn't end up running outside because we decided that we didn't feel like getting struck by lightening today. We went to the gym instead and ran on the treadmill. And I didn't fall off and hurt myself. And we avoided getting struck by lightening. So it's been a pretty good day, I guess.

Can you tell me why you have been so sad?

Heidi and I are about to go attempt to run (slash walk, heh) 5 miles in preparation for the Turkey Trot EVEN THOUGH it's Sunday and Sundays are made for sitting around in your pajamas. We're so dedicated. Yeesh. It's been raining all morning. I am still full of pancakes and coffee. I hope we live through this endeavor.

Godspeed, Internets.

The big brain am winning again! I am the greetest! Mwahahaha! Now I am leaving Earth for no raisin!

Last night, because of a combination of annoying/bitchy coworkers and flu shots, Heidi and I decided we didn't feel like going running. Or cooking dinner. Or not drinking wine. So Heidi stopped for wine, I stopped for Papa Murphy's (oh my god, thin crust veggie pizza . . . so good, you guys, I'm not even lying ONE LITTLE BIT), and we both immediately changed into pajamas when we got home. Then we watched like 18 hours of TV (not really).

At some point, we both realized that it's really nice to just come home and do nothing. Screw this working out business! Only not really, because the race? It is 15 days away. That is not so many. So I said, "hey, why don't we get up early tomorrow and go running before work," half hoping that Heidi would say, "hey, why don't you go fuck yourself, crazy person!" But she didn't! So last night, I set my alarm for 5:23 (I don't know) and this morning when it went off, I actually got up immediately, put on my running clothes, brushed my teeth, and ate a banana. And then we went running. The sun wasn't even up yet. And I didn't die! Which is sort of what I always thought might happen if I tried to go running that early. Like, my body would kill me for dragging it out of bed before it needed to be awake and THEN MAKING IT EXERCISE.

The bad part is, I can't use this excuse anymore: If I go running before work, I will be incredibly, incredibly tired once I get there and then I'll be absolutely WORTHLESS, more so than usual.

Because here's the thing. I'm not any sleepier than I normally am. In fact, I think I may have been more productive than usual this morning. This is bad. I fear that soon I will be one of those people who likes to work out and eats more fruit than candy and doesn't drink and gets up at the asscrack of dawn on the weekends FOR NO RAISIN. If that happens, will one of you stage an intervention? Because, seriously, I don't want to know that girl. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like her.