I added lots of GIFs and videos for you guys because this contains all the words in the universe.

For my next trip down movie-memory lane, I’ve chosen to watch Now & Then, a movie I associate with Casper both because of the Devon Sawa connection AND because I watched both of them eleventy billion times as a kid. But, as much as I loved Casper, my heart really belongs to this coming-of-age tale featuring four best friends.

Look, it’s impossible to watch this movie and not compare it, at least a teensy bit, to Stand by Me, another coming of age story that stars four boys instead of four girls. But while both focus on friendship and the mysteries surrounding death, Stand by Me is clearly the darker of the two, both by benefit of being written by Stephen King and because the boys are taking a trip to see a DEAD BODY.

Compared to that, Now & Then seems much more light and frivolous, though there are some heavier storylines dealing with death and divorce. There’s room for both of them, though, in any child’s movie repertoire. Girls need coming of age stories just as much as boys do, and I guess they could have worse role models (i.e. a Kardashian) than the four young women featured in this movie.

ANYWAY, I’d skip this recap if you don’t have a soft spot for Devon Sawa or GIRL POWER. 

The movie opens with a game of Red Rover. All of the neighborhood children are there, it would seem, and all but four girls are on one team. Those girls are screwed. But no! They call over the nose-picking weakling and he doesn’t break through their arms, but it’s mostly because they totally cheat! They’re not just holding hands, they’re clasping elbows, creating a DOUBLE ARM BARRIER which is not authorized in Red Rover. Everyone knows that.

Yes. Yes, you do.

We find out, via raspy Demi Moore voiceover, that these four girls grew up in Shelby, Indiana, which for the movie’s purposes means: suburbs, quiet, BORING.

Look, the adult-friend parts of this movie are THE WORST so here is what you need to know. Sam is a writer who wears a lot of black, Teeny is a movie star who has been married five times, Chrissy is stuck in the past and still lives in Shelby, Roberta lives both in Shelby and in sin with her ex-boyfriend. You can tell it's been a million years since they all hung out as a group, though it seems like Roberta and Chrissy are still friends. Poor Roberta.

Eventually (blessedly), the movie flashes back to 1970, when the girls are all 12-years-old. They do things like ride bikes! And swing on swings! And take sex quizzes in Cosmo while drinking Coke floats, which are served by Janeane Garofalo, who calls them boys and is apparently a witch! Anyway, their big goal for the summer is to save enough money to buy a tree house. Remember being 12? Jesus.

(pee)wheeeeeeeeeeeee!

Later that night, they have a seance in the cemetery because SURE. I mean, actually the whole seance thing is realistic enough (my friends and I used to try to raise spirits all the time, and we also tried the “light as a feather, stiff as a board" thing from The Craft which I just decided I will be watching next) but sneaking out to do it at a cemetery in the middle of the night as a 12-years-old seems a bit much.

They try to raise the spirit of a young boy named “Dear Johnny,” and actually think they’ve done so when they see that his tombstone has been cracked in half. They also run into an old man named “Crazy Pete,” who rides around town on his bike and doesn’t talk to anyone. I don’t really think that’s weird but that could be because I try not to talk to other people unless absolutely necessary.

They decide to figure out what happened to Dear Johnny, so they take a long bike trip to the library in the next town over. Do you see how spoiled we are today? These girls rode at least 10 miles (judging by movie science...at one point they pass a sign that says Greenville: 9 miles YES I WAS PAYING VERY CLOSE ATTENTION) to discover (spoiler alert) basically nothing, which we could do in like 10 seconds of Googling.

The only thing they find out from these old newspapers is that Dear Johnny and his mother died tragically, but the rest of the pages had been torn out so they don’t know why or how. They also find out that Roberta’s mother, who died when Roberta was four, suffered a lot before she died, something that Roberta’s father had lied to her about. SAD.

YOU MOCK MY PAIN.

I forgot how much of the movie happens on this bike trip. On the way to the library, they see the Wormers (smelly boys who torture them earlier in the movie, also DEVON SAWA IS ONE) skinny-dipping, so they steal their clothes. Also, Roberta dives into some shallow water and pretends she’s dead, which really pisses off her friends. Roberta needs grief counseling. Just saying. Then LATER, on the way home, they meet Brendan Frazier who is a hippy from ‘Nam and commiserates with Sam, whose parents are divorcing (though no one knows this) about how adults don’t know shit. Speaking as an adult, I can tell you this is true.

Their next step in solving the Dear Johnny mystery is to go to Janeane Garofalo and get their tarot cards read. Sure. They find out Dear Johnny was murdered.

Later, for no reason, there’s a softball game. Roberta, who rules at all sports (she’s basically Kristy Thomas), gets in a fight with a boy (who, I might add, wasn’t even PLAYING) who says girls can’t play ball. She’s winning the fight but her friends pull her off, at which point this Malfoy ACTUALLY SAYS, “It’s too bad your mother’s dead, someone needs to teach you to act like a girl.” WHAT A DICK. Roberta goes after him again but Samantha throws her out of the way and tackles him instead. FIGHT. This is the best part of the movie, you guys. You remember that “you play ball like a girl” kid from The Sandlot? These girls would have eaten him for breakfast.

Unfortunately, Samantha’s post-fight high doesn’t last long because she goes home to find her mom on a date with Hank Azaria. She...doesn’t handle it well. She goes to Teeny’s and they decide to try out the new treehouse (which...I guess they finally got?) and talk about how their parents don’t know anything because:

Meanwhile, Roberta is getting first kissed by Devon Sawa. It’s pretty adorable and he doesn’t even turn into a ghost afterward. She threatens to kick his ass if he tells anyone.

On their way home from the treehouse, Teeny and Sam get caught in a rainstorm. Sam almost drowns in a sewer drain but DON’T WORRY she’s saved by Crazy Pete. Now they like Crazy Pete! Yay! 

The next day, the girls are painting a garage door for treehouse money, even though JUST TWO SCENES EARLIER we’d established that they’d already gotten the treehouse. SHENANIGANS. Devon Sawa walks by and makes googly eyes at Roberta. I like to think he’s the boyfriend referenced earlier in the movie.

Later that day, they go to Sam’s Grandma Cloris Leachman’s house. They ask her what happened to Dear Johnny and his mother, but she refuses to tell them anything and rushes them out of the house. They wait for her to leave so they can break in and go through all the old newspapers in the attic. Oh man, my grandma totally would have kicked my ass if I’d ever broken into her house but maybe this kind of thing was OK in the 70s.

Really?

K, fine.

They find an old newspaper that says Dear Johnny and his mother were shot to death by a robber PLUS ALSO Roberta freaks out and breaks a mirror because she has a lot of feelings re: her dead mother. Sam then finally tells the other girls that her parents are getting divorced. This glimpse into the real world, all full of evil and suffering, leads the girls to make a pact, that they’ll always be there for each other, no matter what happens.

That night, they go to the cemetery to hold another seance. The groundskeeper catches them and tells them that the graveyard isn’t a playground which...OK, good point. He was the one who knocked over Johnny’s tombstone and broke it. According to the voiceover, this was the day they stopped their make-believe games (booooo!), so they throw away their seance gear and go home.

Sam goes back to put some flowers on Johnny’s grave. She runs into Crazy Pete and realizes that he was Johnny’s dad. It’s treacly and obvious but still...oof. I always forget that coming of age stories focus so much on death and loss until I actually watch one. I guess that’s what forces us to grow up. We realize that terrible things don’t just happen to other people. Death will come to those we love. We’ll lose people throughout our lifetimes and there’s nothing we can do about it and now I’m depressed and need to go lie down.

Spot on.

With that, we are rudely forced back to the present and the mostly terrible women the girls have grown up to become (this might be the most depressing thing about the movie). Chrissy has her baby (Roberta delivers it, which is weird, right?) and they all ooh and ahh because LADIES LOVE BABIES. The movie ends with another pact, this time to see each other more often, and another game of Red Rover, which they play with a bunch of neighborhood kids who just  magically show up (maybe they came out of that field in Iowa, I don’t know).

When I decided to watch this movie for the first time in, oh, let’s say 15 years, I did not have high hopes, but I’m surprised at how much I enjoyed it. Though, the bits of the movie featuring the adults could use some work or, better yet, be cut out completely. It was as if the movie’s creators were less focused on the emotional heft of the movie than on, “ooh, look what famous actresses these girls grew up to be!"

Also, it was fitting that I watched this during the summer, because this movie really made me miss summer vacation.

Also, also, just because it's SLIGHTLY relevant:

this post brought to you by TOO MUCH COFFEE

Whenever I'm watching TV or a movie, if one of the characters is lying in bed or waking up in bed or just anywhere near a bed, really, it makes me want to go to sleep. But not in my own bed, which is only half-assedly made most of the time (unless Joe does it) and is usually covered in all manner of dog and cat hair because our animals think that our stuff = their stuff, but in a TV-bed, a fluffy kingdom of sleepfoolery, full of giant pillows and a comforter I could bury myself in. The sheets are white and pure, like fresh snow but not cold like snow because what kind of weirdo wants to go to sleep in a pile of snow? Maybe vampires? Or Jack London, probably. But no one else.

Anyway, my point is, we got a new bed this weekend. We've been talking about getting a new one since we moved into the new place. And when I say we, I mostly mean me. And by me, I mean every time I had a shitty night of sleep WHICH IS ALMOST ALWAYS, I'd complain about how we needed a new bed frame. Because the one we had felt like it was going to collapse any time one of us moved. It got to the point where I'd cringe whenever Max jumped on the bed and he weighs like 5 pounds. Plus 25 more pounds. Whatever.

So this weekend we rented a truck and drove to IKEA to pick up a shitload of boxes that would soon become furniture. We got all the right ones this time. Did I tell you guys that when we bought our dining room table at IKEA we brought home two boxes and only one of them was the right one? True story. It was really disappointing. That didn't happen this time. Good story, Jennie, tell it again.

A couple of people have asked me how my Easter was and I have stared at each one of them, dumbfounded (which, to be fair, is my default reaction to human interaction most of the time). The closest we came to talking about Easter this weekend was when we drove by the resurrection-in-process Come Unto Me Jesus (formally Terminator Jesus AND formally Touchdown Jesus) on the way home from IKEA. This weekend was not so much about Easter for us as it was constructing a beautiful, happy place that looks like this:

I want to go to there.

Don't you want to sleep there? Well, you can't. SORRY.

DO YOU WANT TO HEAR SOMETHING CRAZY? (Note: it's not actually that crazy.) We put the bed together yesterday so last night was our first night to sleep in it. And even though Max did not jump on the bed at all like he normally does after we fall to sleep and therefore can't chase him off (choosing, instead, to curl up in a pile of dirty laundry), I still slept like crap! I'm blaming it on two things: 1) it was a Sunday night and I always sleep poorly on Sunday nights because of all the Monday-morning-dread and 2) I was playing Draw Something before I went to sleep and cracked myself up with the completely idiotic and inappropriate drawing I made for Joe. Then Phoebe threw up on the floor, right by my side of the bed, and I thought about ignoring it until the morning but then I pictured my foot coming down on a pile of cat barf in a middle-of-the-night bathroom trip and I decided to clean it up, which meant running downstairs then upstairs then downstairs then upstairs and by that time I was SO AWAKE so I tried to relax by repeating the following words to myself: GO TO SLEEP GO TO SLEEP IT'S ALMOST MIDNIGHT YOU NEED TO GO TO SLEEP YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY TALK TO PEOPLE AT WORK IN THE MORNING AND NOT JUST SIT AT YOUR DESK AND STARE AT A COMPUTER SO GO TO SLEEP RIGHT NOW. This didn't really help. PLUS. I'd plugged in a new cat pheromone diffuser for Phoebe, which made her extra friendly. This was cute but also troublesome because when she's extra friendly she usually tries to make a bed on my boobs at 3 AM which is not, as those with boobs can attest, all that comfortable for the human in the situation. 

Really what I'm saying is that you should play Draw Something with me I AM OBSESSED.

Also, complete sidenote: I've been meaning to talk about this but I keep forgetting. I'm participating in Pajiba's Cannonball Read IV, meaning I'm reviewing all (or most) of the books I've been reading, and they're not like my Goodreads reviews, which are like, "I liked this book, it was good," but actual reviews with more than one paragraph. And sometimes GIFs. Anyway, here's a link to my reviews, if you're interested. Or even if you're not interested, honestly. Also! Even if you don't read my reviews (and comment! I'm a whore for comments!), please read the Junior Cannonballer reviews because YOU GUYS they are written by kids who love to read, so please read and comment on those if nothing else BECAUSE HOW CUTE IS THAT? MY OVARIES EXPLODED, THAT'S HOW CUTE IT IS.

Um, right, so here are the junior reviewer links:

Bunnybean
Joemyjoe
The Grace Hurricane

The end.

the not-so-secret circle PART TWO

Did you guys think I was done with this? Because I'm not. It's time for...The Secret Circle: THE CAPTIVE. So, enjoy, you three people who actually know what I'm talking about. Let's get THIS excited:



You may remember that in the first book, Adam and Cassie realized they were MFEO but decided to ignore it, vowing never to hurt Diana blah blah blah, and also the coven released some dark energy from a crystal skull YES I REALLY JUST TYPED THAT.

Following the release of both the dark energy AND Adam and Cassie's pent-up sexual energy, the coven decides to meet at Diana's to trace the dark energy with some crystal pendulum voodoo magic. The crystal leads them to the cemetery (of course!) and they find this giant mound of dirt busted open, which is probably not good. They find out later that SOMEHOW, their principal died in a rock slide, because that's a normal way for principals to die. Cassie is sure the dark energy had something to do with it and wonders if maybe she shouldn't get the crystal skull for Faye. DUH DOY, Cassie.

Oh! I might have forgotten to tell you that Faye told Cassie that if she didn't want Diana to find out that Cassie and Adam had a tongue party on the beach, Cassie has to find the crystal skull and give it to Faye. This is going to be difficult, however, because Diana is "purifying" it and didn't tell anyone what she did with it. 



Cassie changes her mind (again!) about giving the skull to Faye and spends the night at Diana's so she can look for it. She doesn't find it but has a dream about where to look for it. Her dream tells her that in order to purify something, it must be buried in sand, and if that's the case, then the next time Phoebe pukes on my bedspread, I'm going to bury it in sand instead of trying to shove it into the washer.

Anyway. Cassie digs holes all over the beach, looking for the skull. Just randomly. She doesn't try to devise a stratagem or anything, even though everyone knows that stratagems are the shit (see: Amelie). She somehow finds the skull but, as she holds it, she realizes she can't give it to Faye. Doesn't matter, though, because Faye was following her and snatches the skull right out of Cassie's hands. Blah blah more witchcraft. They release more dark energy. How much dark energy is in this thing? Geez.

Nothing bad happens for like a week, other than Diana coming down with a cold right before the big dance. Diana's a total idiot and insists that Cassie go as Adam's date in her place, because she doesn't want Adam to miss the dance and I guess him going by himself wasn't an option? Unfortunately for Diana, all the other girls use their witchy wiles to make Cassie look totally hot. Adam (and every other boy at the dance) is powerless to her charms and by charms I mean boobs. Adam and Cassie make out again (that vow didn't last long) on the dance floor (!!) but somehow no one sees them? What? Cassie gets flustered and runs away to find Deborah, who is playing cards in the boiler room with the Henderson brothers and Freddy Krueger.

She doesn't find them, but she does find Jeffrey Lovegood's body hanging from a pipe, so that's cool. Jeffrey is (was) this popular guy who Faye was after, I think? And he ditched her to dance with Cassie, even though he also has a girlfriend? So the girlfriend and Faye were both pretty mad.

Nick finds Cassie with the body, and soon he, Adam, Deborah, and Cassie are tracking the dark energy through town. They end up at the cemetery, where the dark energy swarms at Deb and Cassie (uh-huh) and Cassie loses the crystal necklace that Melanie had given her. She goes back to the cemetery later, to try and find the necklace, and notices the gravestones of all of the coven parents. They all died in 1976. Diana tells Cassie it was because of a hurricane. A MAGIC hurricane, I bet.

Whatever. There's another dance coming up, the HALLOWEEN dance, which is super special because did you know? They're witches. And Halloween is WITCHY. Cassie tries to ask Nick to the dance but he blows her off because he's busy working on his car because HE IS A MAN. She's embarrassed, so naturally she decides to hang out with the Weasley Henderson twins and they steal pumpkins BECAUSE THEY ARE BAD. Then they go to some Salem witch trial museum because they want to scare people (BECAUSE THEY ARE BAD) but Cassie freaks out because she realizes that all of the murders that have happened recently are JUST LIKE what happened to the people accused of being witches a million years ago. GASP!



I'm tired. Is this over yet?

Cassie finds a black rock called a hematite. It's her "working stone" which...omg, who cares. It's not important. What is important is that she found it in the ruins of a house (Number 13, oooooh) at the end of their street. Later, the Coven traces some dark energy (more?) to the same ruins, and Cassie learns that Black John (remember him?) used to live there. The house burned down years ago, right around the time all the parents died.

Cassie and Nick DO end up going to the dance together, in case you were worried. Were you worried? Don't lie, I know you were. Everyone dresses up in what I'm sure they think are totally "deep" costumes but are really just kind of obvious and sad, like, Suzan dresses up like Aphrodite and Laurel is a wood nymph (heh) or something and Diana as a good witch and Faye as a bad witch and omg all of you just dress like slutty bunnies or something, OK? You're 16.



After the dance, they go to Number 13 to perform a ceremony that will call up Black John's spirit because that's something that sounds like it will end well. They call up four circles of protection around them, earth, fire, wind air, water, (heart!) and do witchy things to pull Black John's spirit out of the crystal skull. They're successful! But oops, Black John goes after Cassie, Adam goes through the four circles of protection to save her (which is apparently a big deal), and then everything is over. OR IS IT?

No. It's not. So. Remember how Faye is blackmailing Cassie because she knows that Cassie and Adam are makeout buddies? Well, it's time for the Coven to elect a permanent leader and Faye wants Cassie's vote. This is a problem because DUH Faye is BAD and Diana is GOOD so obviously Diana should be the leader. Whatever, long story short (LIES), Cassie does as told and Faye is elected leader. Everyone is shocked (SHOCKED!) that Cassie would vote for Faye.



Faye wastes no time in fucking shit up, and takes the crystal skull and most of the Coven to the cemetery. They do some magics or something and OOPS AGAIN (this story is full of oopses) they release Black John from the skull. I guess. The skull exploded, along with some weird, old mound at the cemetery that I guess was his grave? I don't remember. I read this like a month ago.

They realize something is seriously wrong when they see a red, glowy light over Cassie's grandma's house. I guess it's never good to have red, glowy light over your house, especially if you're a witch. They go inside and there's an EVIL red light inside, causing everything to look all weird DUH. They find Cassie's mom, who is alive, but comatose, which really isn't a problem because I forgot Cassie even had a mom. It's a bit traumatizing, though, when they find Cassie's grandma in the kitchen, dying all over the floor.

Black John was there, says Grandma Howard, and he was looking for their Book of Shadows. And even though grandma is dying, she still has time for a story. YES. I LOVE STORY TIME.

Grandma tells Cassie that their family has always had the strongest sight of all the witch families, making them the best, so IN YOUR FACE, EVERYONE ELSE. A long time ago, on a street far, far away except not really because it was the same street they're on right now, all of their parents had their own Secret Circle. One day, a "man in black" showed up, not to erase their memories or sing Ring of Fire to them, but to be Head Coven Leader or something. He took charge, making sure that certain members of that Coven hooked up and had babies, which is totally gross and you have to wonder why those kids would have listened to him. Drugs? Maybe.

Anyway, they found out later that this man in black was not Johnny Cash, but Black John (omg what if Johnny Cash WAS Black John), and that the reason he hooked up certain members of the Coven is because he wanted them to all have super powerful witch babies that he could mold into evil witches so he could control them and be their leader when they grew up, yes, you read that right.

Naturally, some of the parents were like, "oh hell no," (but only the brave ones) and when they confronted Black John about it, he caused the magical hurricane that killed them. I don't remember if Black John died at that time or was, like, banished back into the crystal skull, but Grandma tells Cassie that he's BACK. As a real person, like Pinocchio, but evil. Well. Eviler.

Then Grandma Howard dies, but not before saying something super cryptic that will leave Cassie really confused for most of the next book.

Cassie's pretty upset at this point and decides she's done with Faye's blackmail bullshit. She goes to Faye and is all, "this is your fault and I hate you and this sucks, how about instead of blackmailing me, you come over this weekend to watch Dawson's Creek with me?" and Faye is all, "only if you agree that Dawson is Joey's soulmate!" because Faye is EVIL but then Cassie is like, "OMG FAYE, NO, YOU ARE THE WORST, PACEY FOREVER."

OK, none of that happened but Cassie did tell Faye that she's not going to be blackmailed any longer, so Faye is all, "OH IT IS ON NOW, TINY ONE," and she starts to speak to the rest of the Circle and that's where the book ends.

Tune in next time for...The Secret Circle: THE POWER.

Let's all go to the movies and then gouge our eyes out because that's how bad Due Date was

My love for Robert Downey Jr. runs deep, so deep that I have seen Only You MORE THAN ONCE. In fact, when I saw that Only You was available for Netflix Instant, I might have actually squeed aloud. I watched it almost immediately and I was almost able to ignore how absolutely terrible it is. Such is the power of RDJ's charm.

I've been swooning over RDJ for years now, through his stint in rehab AND on Ally McBeal, all the way to, well, today. I saw Iron Man because he was in it, I loved him in Wonder Boys, my sides ached with laughter during his bits in Tropic Thunder, and I watched Sherlock Holmes just to see the magic of the budding bromance between RDJ and Jude Law.

But this past weekend, Robert Downey Jr. almost lost my love FOREVER and I will tell you why: DUE DATE.

Oh, I was all set to love it, despite the poor reviews I'd read back when it came out, because his character's name in the movie is Peter Highman. Just...just say it out loud. See? It immediately pandered to my 13-year-old-boy level of maturity, so I was on board. But you guys, this movie is terrible. I don't know what happened. I love stupid movies as much as the next person (I own Zoolander) but there is almost nothing redeeming about this movie.

Here is the premise: Peter (RDJ) is on his way home, and needs to be there by Friday, because his wife is getting a C-section that day and I guess it's, like, important to meet your baby right away, I don't know. He meets Zach Galificleurlduskjerudl's character, Ethan, at the airport and there is some nonsense about their bags getting mixed up. Then they get in a fight on the airplane and, of course, get kicked off. Peter has this problem, I guess, that when he gets mad, he "sees red," so he never remembers the yelling and the punching or whatever, but really I think his problem is that he's just an asshole.

Anyway, so they get kicked off the plane and Peter's wallet is still ON the plane because for some reason, he put it in the seat pocket in front of him? Or something? Do people do this? So he can't rent a car because he has no money or ID. Also, he's now on the no-fly list on account of the fighting and the mixed up baggage.

Ethan, however, still has money and his ID, so he is able to rent a car and convinces Peter to come with him. Thus begins their tragic journey across the country. Oh yeah, I forgot, but Ethan is carrying his dead father's ashes around in a coffee can. This will be important later but it's gross so prepare yourselves. Also, Ethan wants to be an actor because he was inspired by Two and a Half Men. This will be important later but it's gross so prepare yourselves.

Along the way, Ethan stops to buy pot and, while there, Peter punches a child in the stomach. I mean, the kid was annoying, but you just can't punch a child. I'm pretty sure that's like a rule. Ethan spends all their money on pot, then Peter insults a war veteran at Western Union so they can't even get the money Peter's wife wired to them, so they are pretty much screwed. I think this is when they sleep at a rest stop and Peter tries to ditch Ethan there but, in his only redeeming scene in the movie, feels guilty and goes back to get him. Later, Ethan falls asleep while he's driving and DRIVES OFF OF AN OVERPASS, so maybe Peter had the right idea, what with the ditching, but don't worry, the only bad things that happen are that Peter breaks an arm and the dog now has to wear a cone of shame.

At this point, Jamie Foxx rescues them and takes them to his house. He lends them a car, but not before making them coffee out of Ethan's father's ashes. Yep, sure, why not.

I think it's soon after they leave Jamie Foxx that Ethan accidentally drives them to Mexico. Yeah. Peter gets arrested by border patrol because...I don't remember why, and is locked up in a trailer, which Ethan then STEALS and then they are in the most ridiculous car chase ever and it was at this point that I wondered why I was still watching the movie.

They become friends at this point, sort of, even though Peter is still a total asshole. They go to the Grand Canyon and I wish Ethan would push Peter over the side. They OBVIOUSLY make it to California in time for Peter to see his baby's birth...well, sort of, because I forgot that Ethan accidentally shoots Peter at some point so I think Peter passes out during the actual birth but who cares because he was an asshole anyway and assholes shouldn't get to see their babies get borned. Actually, wait, scratch that, the birthing process is way disgusting so assholes should have to watch that shit, like, 24/7, right? Right.

OK, but here is where I felt completely betrayed. Ethan and Peter apparently become BFF, although reluctantly on Peter's part because of the asshole thing. Peter and his wife and baby are lying in bed one night, watching TV, and you guys, THEY ARE WATCHING TWO AND A HALF MEN. Because Ethan was a guest actor on it or something. But WHATEVER WHO CARES. The point is, this movie tricked me into watching part of Two and a Half Men and I don't care that it was maybe only a minute or two, it was still a minute or two of Two and a Half Men that I never, ever wanted to see. And, I don't know, you guys, as much as I hate to say it, I think it's going to take a lot of shirtless wrestling before I can ever trust RDJ again.

Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?

If you don't live in Ohio or North Carolina, you probably don't realize that the states totally hate each other. Want to know why? It's because of airplanes. And all the license plates. Allow me to explain.

Ohio license plates say, "Birthplace of Aviation."

North Carolina plates say, "First in Flight."

I say, "North Carolina can suck it."

When Heather and Abigail came to Ohio for the wedding, we were driving around one afternoon and the subject of flight came up. No, I don't remember how that happened, but it did. One of them mentioned something about North Carolina license plates saying "first in flight" and THEN they wondered why Ohio got all bent out of shape about it and that is when I HAD TO DROP SOME KNOWLEDGE ALL OVER THEIR ASSES.

I very rationally explained that North Carolina is wrong. It used to be cute that they thought flight was all theirs, but it's not funny anymore. Then I explained about the Wright Brothers and it soon became clear to me that this was not common knowledge unless maybe you grew up in Dayton and took yearly school field trips to the Air Force Museum. (The only other thing I remember from those field trips is that there is a plane at the museum named Strawberry Bitch, which we all thought was hilarious...probably because it's hilarious.)

So here, dear internet, is a faithful narrative of all things Wright Brothers. Well, maybe not all things. But some things! Things I could remember! Or that I found on Wackopedia. Anyway.

Once upon a time there were two brothers, Wilbur and Orville Wright. Neither technically graduated from high school, so think of that the next time you're on a plane. Wilbur was supposed to go to Yale, but he got his front teeth knocked out by a hockey puck so he stayed home because he was afraid none of the Yale ladies would want to make out with him. Ha. Just kidding, there were no ladies at Yale, it was 1885.

Anyway, instead of going to Yale, Wilbur stayed in Dayton and went to work with Orville at his print shop. Interesting (?) sidenote: Paul Laurence Dunbar was one of their customers, and had also been a classmate of Orville's. I like to imagine that they were BFFs. Also, that they invented a time machine so they could go to the future and find out if they ever became famous, which THEY TOTALLY DID. Well, Dayton-famous. Wah wah.

Later, the Wrights opened a bicycle shop called the Wright Cycle Exchange, and used all the crazy cash money they made to pay for their silly flight endeavors. They were mostly focused on how to control an aircraft, so the pilot wouldn't go careening off of a cliff and, like, die and stuff. Other flight-inventing-wannabes were more focused on strapping the biggest engines they could find on planes but the Wrights were all, "size isn't everything, duh."

Then Wilbur and Orville did a bunch of science to figure out how to make an awesome plane that wouldn't kill people. They did this and in 1903, they took the Wright Flyer I to Kitty Hawk, North Carolina and flew the shit out of it. The only reason the first flight took place in North Carolina was because the winds there were more conducive to flying than the winds in Dayton (plus it was December, which equals ice and snow in Ohio). Also, going to North Carolina was cheaper than going to California or Florida. So, congratulations, North Carolina! You get the bronze medal in wind.

But seriously. Stay away from The Wright Brothers. THEY'RE OURS.

(Indiana tries to butt in sometimes, too, just because Wilbur Wright was born there, which is sort of adorable but no, Indiana. Just...no. You get to claim Vonnegut and Letterman, WHY ISN'T THAT ENOUGH FOR YOU?)

PS: If you're ever in Dayton and you have some time to kill, I highly recommend going to Carillon Park. You can see a replica of the Wright bicycle shop (whoo?) and the Wright Flyer III, which is, I think, three times as awesome as the Wright Flyer I. Plus! There is a little replica schoolhouse from the olden days and you get to sit at the desks or in the corner and wear the Dunce hat. It's awesome. Or at least I thought it was awesome when we went there on field trips. You know, when I was 10.

9. What would your Boggart be?

My boggart would be someone telling me that I had to plan a wedding again. Oh, zing! Just kidding, it really wasn't that terrible. But seriously (folks), I had a really good time planning certain things (mustaches!) and even the not-so-fun things (assembling the invites!) weren't that bad because I got to watch terrible movies while doing it. WIN WIN WIN.

Anyway, I don't know if anyone has any interest in this BUT it might be helpful if you ever plan on planning a wedding and you're lazy like I am. So, here is what we did and how we planned (I would like to apologize for the length...that's what he said) and I'm sorry if it's really boring because OMG how boring is talking about wedding planning? Also, how long was that sentence? Damn, Gina.

1. Ceremony Venue

We almost got married in a tiny park that has a dinosaur in it, surrounded by immediate family and wedding party only. Then we almost got married in a tiny church, surrounded by immediate family and wedding party only. In the end, we got married in the tiny church, surrounded by EFFING EVERYONE, because we obviously loved everyone we invited and wanted them to be there for the ceremony. I still don't know how we squeezed so many people in such a teeny tiny church. It was sort of like how the Weasleys and Harry and Hermione all fit in a teeny tiny tent when they went to the Quidditch World Cup.

2. Reception Venue

We vacillated on the reception hall for a while, but eventually settled on the only place we visited, which is where almost everyone in Dayton has their wedding reception. Which...whatever, we probably could have tried harder to find somewhere a bit more creative, but in the end, I didn't really care so much about the where, I was more interested in the who (as in, WHO would be there) and the what (as in, WHAT food/drinks will we serve and WHAT will we do to make this a super crazy awesome fun time).

3. Food/Drinks/Cake

We served an appetizer buffet instead of a sit down dinner, thinking it would be faster. I'm not sure it was, but I was so happy we went that route because appetizers are my favorite food group (what?) and the jalapeno poppers were SO GOOD. Also, there were teeny pie things that had pizza toppings inside and OMG. My parents had everyone over after the reception and they served the leftover reception food, and I have a very fuzzy memory of standing next to all the food, shoving the pizza pie things in my mouth, like, until they were gone.

Since we didn't serve a big dinner, we worried that people would be feeling peckish toward the end of the night, so we served a soft pretzel bar (with nacho cheese and various mustards) as a late night snack. I didn't eat any (sad face) because I was too busy dancing around Hogwarts on the dance floor, but they sure looked good.

In the early planning stages, I think we were most excited to go cake tasting, but we only ended up going to one place because THAT WAS ALL IT TOOK. Seriously. We got our cupcakes from The Bombshell Bakeshop, which is a local Dayton business, and the proprietors couldn't have been nicer. Joe and I totally have a couple crush on them (whatever that means). We got about 200 cupcakes, in various flavors, and left the rest up to them. I can safely say that they went above and beyond and if you're getting married in Dayton, please hire them. You will not be disappointed.

4. Flowers

I honestly did not give two shits about the flowers, but my mom (hi, Mom!) really wanted us to have real bouquets because they smell nice. And they did smell nice. We got them from The Flowerman, another local business. My only complaint is that my bouquet was so heavy that I thought my arm was going to fall off during the ceremony, but that's not their fault, that's my fault for being such a wuss.

5. Favors

MUSTACHES! I ordered the mustaches from MaroDesigns on etsy. I almost didn't, because I thought it would be way too expensive to order 160 mustaches at something like $3 each. I ended up emailing her, though, and I'm so glad I did because she gave me a much cheaper price for ordering them in bulk.

You guys. This was the best wedding purchase I made. Way better than the flowers, better than my dress, better than EVERYTHING. Joe was a little worried that I became so fixated on getting fake mustaches for the reception, but that's because he had no idea I'd found such awesome mustaches. I am so, so glad I got them, if only for the pictures. OH THE PICTURES.

6. Photographer

Speaking of pictures, my cousin, Dana, is a wedding photographer and she gave us a great deal. Which is awesome, otherwise we never would have been able to afford her. Heh. Her website is here: Dana Grant Photography and some of our wedding photos are here: Joe and Jennie's DAY OF FUN.

7. Music/DJ

Joe's friend DJed for us, which was awesome because she took care of getting the equipment and everything. Our first/mother/father songs were:

First Dance: Falling Slowly by The Swell Season
Father/Daughter: Gracie by Ben Folds
Mother/Son: Let it Be by The Beatles

8. Centerpieces

BOARD GAMES. Seriously, it was so easy and fun and no one I talked to had ever been to a wedding with board game centerpieces. What made it even better was that the reception hall took care of setting all of them up at the tables. Even Twister, which was set up right next to the dance floor. Plus, it was cheap since we already had a lot of the games.

9. Invites

This was another thing I didn't really care about. I mean, I wanted them to look nice but I didn't want to spend a bajillion dollars on them. So, Joe drew the design and I figured out what they should say and we printed and assembled them ourselves.

10. Dress

This was my biggest headache, I think, but it wasn't even that bad. It's just that I hate shopping and there's so much pressure for your wedding dress to be, like, the prettiest dress you'll ever own. To which I say BULLSHIT because I plan on buying lots of pretty dresses for the rest of my life, so suck it.

That's not to say I didn't like my wedding dress. I loved it. It was way more comfortable than any dress has a right to be and I got it for only $200 (SCORE). Joe's mom used to alter wedding dresses for a living, so did all of my alterations. The dress came with a long train, which she hemmed completely off so I wouldn't trip over it. The biggest pain in the ass, really, was finding a strapless bra that was supportive but that didn't cut off my air supply.

11. Thank You Notes

Um, we are still working on these. Sorry, everyone who sent us gifts, but we are both procrastinators. So, those will hopefully go out before the end of the year. Or before our first wedding anniversary. Heh.

TMI? Too much information. Uh, it's just easier to say TMI. I used to say don't go there, but that's lame.

It's been a while since I've shared too much information with the internet, I think, but HOLD ONTO YOUR BUTTS because I went to the lady doctor on Monday.

That's right. I scheduled an appointment with the lady doctor on a Monday morning, because apparently there's no better way to start your week than having someone poke around your girly parts with cold, metal instruments.

So in I went and when the nurse took my blood pressure she was all, "why is your blood pressure so high," and I was like, "because I'm at the doctor's office, duh," and then the doctor took it again later and was all, "why is your blood pressure so high" and I was all, "gee, I don't know, maybe because this one time I came in here and you forcibly ripped out a piece of my body so this place doesn't really give me CUDDLY, WARM FUZZIES."

Long story short (ha!), I have to start watching my sodium, because sodium is an evil bitchmonster, hell-bent on making my heart explode before I'm 30. JK, it's not that bad, but did you know there's a shitload of sodium in everything? Like, that water you're drinking probably has 5000 mgs of sodium in it. OK, it doesn't, unless you dumped four teaspoons of salt in there but why would you do that? That's disgusting.

It turns out lots of foods I thought were healthy are NOT healthy, sodium-wise, because they've been processed out the wazoo (what a fun word) and processed food, while delicious, is a big bad. Not THE big bad, though, otherwise Buffy could just smack it around for a while and all would be well. I wish I could shrink Buffy real tiny like and shoot her into my bloodstream to stake all of the sodium molecules before they could eff up my body. That would be awesome. It could be an Innerspace sequel which OMG I love that movie so much.

Right. So. Here is where the TMI comes in. This may not be common knowledge to those of you with penises, but when you go to the lady doctor, she spends a lot of time feeling you up. This is also when she yells at you for not doing monthly breast exams. The whole thing is less uncomfortable than it sounds, at least with my doctor, because she's really good at carrying on a conversation while she's doing all of that. Do you think they teach that in med school? I think so because I'm pretty sure that's what Karev failed on Grey's Anatomy, and that's where I get all my doctor knowledge. That and WebMD but I'm not allowed to look at WebMD anymore because doctors don't like it when you diagnose yourself.

Anyway, the doctor was rounding second base and there was a break in the conversation where she was all like, "...hmm," and that's not a good noise for a doctor to make while she's kneading your boob like a lump of dough.

"Your boobs are dense," she said (RUDE) and I told her that I TRIED to tell them to pay more attention in school, but would they listen? No. She didn't laugh, though, because she never gets my jokes.

Long story short again (ha!), I have to get an ultrasound next week. On my boobs. Because, according to my doctor, boobs are supposed to feel like cottage cheese and if she feels something pea-like IN the cottage cheese, that's a problem. WELL. APPARENTLY, my boobs feel like cottage cheese that's been left on the counter for too long (her words), so she couldn't tell if she'd found something weird or just, like, even older cottage cheese.

It's really nothing to worry about, and I wasn't even going to say anything on here, but I'm guessing that the experience of getting my boobs ultrasounded is something I'm going to want to blog about and it would be weird if next week I was like, "I got my boobs ultrasounded today," with no explanation beforehand so that's what this is. An explanation. In the meantime, I'm going to get my boobs a therapist because after being called dense and being compared to old cottage cheese, they're having some self-esteem issues.

This is the Seinfeld of posts.

I've started to notice lately that it doesn't take much to affect my mood one way or the other. I'll be smiling my way down the hallway at work and then I'll hear Annoying Coworker #5 talking about how he heard Glenn Beck say the funniest thing the other day, and he doesn't mean funny like, "wow, I didn't know someone with so few brain cells could speak," he means funny like, "that Glenn Beck sure knows what he's talking about," because if this guy lived in Phoenix, he probably would have been one of those idiots who brought a gun to hear Obama speak because THAT'S TOTALLY SANE AND NORMAL and what was I saying? I don't remember, really, but I think it had something to do with the fact that my mood can be ruined by the smallest things.

However. It can also be buoyed by the smallest things, like YUMMY FOOD or hearing The Final Countdown on the radio and picturing GOB dancing around before he makes a boat DISAPPEAR. You know what other Arrested Development-related activity makes me happy? Imitating the Bluths imitating chickens. Chaw-chee-chaw-chee-chaw! If you don't understand that, then maybe you should go watch some Arrested Development already.

Here is why: I am right about everything and I say Arrested Development is hilarious. Other shows that are hilarious: How I Met Your Mother, 30 Rock, The Office, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, Flight of the Conchords. Sometimes people try to watch things like Two and a Half Men and I have to tell them how not funny it is. Sometimes they don't believe me and watch it anyway and I feel sorry for their brains. It's sad.

I can also tell you what movies you should see in the theater, what movies you should wait to see on DVD, and what movies you should never, ever see because they will be so awful that they will melt your face, sort of like that time the Ark of the Covenant, um, melted that guy's face and it was way gross, especially for that guy, probably.

For your reference, here are the movies that are out right now (at least where I am) and what category they fall into:

(500) Days of Summer: THEATER

Aliens in the Attic: DVD

Bandslam: Face-Melter

District 9: THEATER

Funny People: DVD

G.I. Joe: Face-Melter

G-Force: Face-Melter, but could be DVD b/c of Tracy Morgan/Jordan

The Goods: DVD/possible Face-Melter

The Hangover: DVD

Harry Potter: THEATER

Julie & Julia: THEATER

Orphan: DVD

A Perfect Getaway: Face-Melter/DVD

Ponyo: THEATER/DVD

The Proposal: DVD

The Time-Traveler's Wife: DVD

Transformers: Face-Melter

The Ugly Truth: Face-Melter

YOU'RE WELCOME. Please note that I have only actually seen three of these movies, but I feel strongly that I am right about the rest of them.

Regarding the above movies, you should all go see District 9 like, ASAP. Except for you, Heather Anne, because it might be too scary. And Kat, you maybe shouldn't see it on account of it's full of aliens. But the humans are scarier, I promise. Anyway. It's really good and the main guy has an accent and it sounds funny when he says The Eff Word.

This week, Heidi and Tam are in Mexico burning their skin off and drinking tequila, so I am checking in on Harleigh, Tam's smooshed-face cat. Here is a picture of Harleigh. She is adorable and right now she is wearing one of those cone things so she doesn't lick her tummy rash and it only makes her more adorable. Also, she's nice and will let me pet her and pick her up without threatening to bite my face off, unlike some cats, PHOEBE.

Anyway, I guess my point is, I'm in a good mood today because of A) GOB Bluth, B) quesadillas for dinner, C) smooshed-faced cats, and D) Flight of the Conchords. If you'd been paying attention, I think that was all pretty obvious.

Je m'appelle Claude

It's snowing in Chicago. Sort of. We just went to Starbucks and for some reason I saw snow and thought, "hmm, I will wear my Chuck Taylors." Bad idea. Bad. Kat was smart and brought snow boots and luckily Abigail gave us all sweet hats to wear because it is cold here, you guys. So cold. Actually, that's a lie because it's 31 degrees right now and it feels really warm. Because last night it was 8. If that. Anyway, these hats have animal faces on them. Mine is a monkey. I'll show you later because the batteries in my camera died and I haven't gotten any new ones yet. Although, the apartment/suite thing has Ikea batteries but they're the wrong size. Did you know Ikea batteries are yellow? Because they are yellow. Wow, do you want to hear more about the batteries? Cause I could talk more about the batteries.

Right now, Heather is making cinnamon rolls, while WALL-E watches over her from the counter. She is also speaking in a British accent and Abigail is researching for Kat's crossword so Kat can cheat. Also, we are taking a Slang Flashcard test.

I sort of can't believe I'm finally in Chicago, because the trip to Rockville was such a disaster and I will tell you why. One - I was working. Two - the car broke down. Three - I'm pretty sure I didn't sleep at all. Four - I was working. The disaster didn't end once I landed in Dayton, oh no. There were parking lot shenanigans. I will get to that in a minute.

The BEST thing happened as I was walking to baggage claim. I walked out of the secured area and all of these people were there greeting their loved ones. I was all, "aww, that is so sweet and boo, none of them are for me." And then. I walked around the corner and saw this guy who looked just like Joe and GUESS WHAT. It was Joe. And THANK GOD because I was way tired of carrying my bags. Hee. Also, it was really very sweet because pretty much all I did the entire trip was text/email Joe and Heidi and tell them what an awful time I was having. And it turned out to be a really good thing that he was there and NOW I will tell you why.

OK. So when I parked my car on Tuesday, I parked in economy. And they were doing a buttload of construction and APPARENTLY I ended up in the wrong lot. Somehow, there was no barrier between the economy lot and the credit card lot (which is way closer to the airport) and I drove into the credit card lot by mistake WHICH SHOULD NOT BE POSSIBLE. Anyway, so I tried to get out of the lot with my credit card, but since I didn't use my credit card to get in, the thing wouldn't let me out. So I called the guy on the intercom and he was really rude and told me I couldn't get out and I'd just have to find the way I got in, and get out that way, and when I tried to explain to him that THERE WAS NO OTHER WAY OUT because apparently they'd put the barrier back, he was all, "eff you, B, sorry about your luck." If Joe hadn't been there to calmly ask me if I wanted him to drive, I definitely would have just driven through the barrier to FREEDOM SWEET FREEEEEEEEEEEDOM. And, you know, then I would have gotten arrested and there goes my newfound freedom.

So. We drove around for a while, found a movable barrier, moved it, and drove out of the economy lot. And then I went home and slept. And then I got up and packed. And then I drove to Chicago, and picked up Abigail, and we went to the airport to get Kat and Heather, and then we found the apartment Abigail had rented for us (which WOW I need to take pictures once I find batteries) and then we went to the grocery and bought wine and food and 30 cans of PBR (25 are left . . . can we finish them? I don't know) and then we ate cheese and drank wine and then we played the Harry Potter game I gave Heather for her birthday and then we watched Heather's new WALL-E dance away and then we had dinner and that's it. Except THEN this morning we got up and got Starbucks and whatever happens after that, I will have to tell you at a later time. Hold, please.

Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I did an original sin. I poked a badger with a spoon.

Heidi and I break a lot of stuff in our apartment. There was the oven knob incident, and the garbage disposal (twice), my toilet, our refrigerator, various light bulbs, our recliner, several coffeemakers, the dryer, the time I threw a coaster at the wall, and, very recently, Heidi's closet door, the patio door blinds, and our kitchen light. The beauty of renting, however, is that the apartment complex had to pay to fix most of this.

With our history of breaking shit, I wasn't too surprised yesterday evening when I broke the front door. I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Jennie, whatever, you did not break the front door." Well, shut up, yes I did. You see, for the past several weeks, Heidi and I have noticed that the lock on our front door was getting harder and harder to lock and unlock. So what did we do? We mostly ignored it. And when we weren't ignoring it, we complained about it. This was working well for us, you know, until yesterday.

So there I am, all tired from work and shivering on the front stoop, and I stuck my key in the hole, like I always do, but this time? When I tried to pull the key out? Part of the lock came with it. You know, the little cylinder part that has all the pins and crap in it? That little cylinder was just hanging there. A bit was still in the hole, but most was hanging out in the cold, cold, winter air.

"Hmm," I thought. "Perhaps I can shove it back in." So. I tried to shove it back in. Nothing.

"Hmm," I thought. "Perhaps I can simply turn the cylinder with the key and, even though it's not even connected to the door anymore, the door will unlock." So. I tried to turning the key. Nothing.

"Hmm," I thought. "Perhaps this is something I cannot fix myself and I should stop messing with it before I make it much, much worse and Heidi and I can never get back into the apartment and we have to live in an igloo next to the front porch." And so I got in my car and drove up to the apartment complex office.

Things were looking up as I walked into the office, for who should be working but Hot Guy Who Works In Our Apartment Complex Office (who I will now call . . . Bartleby). He is the one I have a tiny, baby, little crush on. Not in a real way, but in the junior high way where every time he talks to me, I start stuttering and my face gets red and I say stupid things. Well. Stupider than usual.

Bartleby: Hi, there. What can I do for you?
Me: I'm having a problem!
Bartleby: OK?
Me: I broke our front door and now the door won't unlock.
Bartleby: Um . . .
Me: Allow me to demonstrate.

And this is when I got my keys out and walked him over to the lock on his office door and imitated the whole lock coming out of the door while attached to my key thing.

Bartleby: Wow, I've never heard of that happening before.
Me: Super.
Bartleby: I'll call the maintenance guy.

While I waited, I was just going to sit in the lobby and read my book (after calling Heidi to tell her if she tried to go home, it would be a fruitless journey that would only end in tears and frustration), but Bartleby came out to talk to me! Yay!

Bartleby: Talk talk talk.
Me: Reply reply reply.
Bartleby: Ha ha ha!
Me: Ha ha ha! Oh, we are laughing!

And the whole time, I'm thinking, "Is he gay? I can't tell if he's gay. He seems sort of gay. It would totally be just my luck if he were gay," but then I said, "I hope I'm not keeping you," and he said, "No, I'm here til 6 anyway," and I said, "Oh, OK," and he said, "I really don't mind staying after 6, though," and I thought, "Score!" but then he said, "My fiance and I were just going to get some wings later anyway," and then I thought, "Fuuuuuuuuck you." True story.

So, apparently Bartleby and I are not meant to be. Unless he and his fiance break up, but it feels wrong to hope for such a thing. Luckily, Heidi and I still have Bernard and Sebastian, who may or may not be gay and who may or may not have another Hot Guy now living with them. New Hot Guy has glasses (heart) and a black car (irrelevant) and a purple lunchbox (um) and now all he needs is a name. And so I shall christen him . . . THADDEUS.

Oh, we eventually got back into our apartment. Like THAT'S the important part of the story. Sheesh.

_____

Today on The Collective, it's your turn to tell us our business.

I love you sweeeeatshirt. RED HOODED sweeeeeeeeeatshirt. DIP DIP DIP.

You guys know how sometimes I don't sleep, right? Um, well, sometimes I don't sleep. And there are some weeks where Heidi doesn't really sleep either and when these weeks collide I call it . . . well, I don't really call it anything.

But this week is one of those weeks. I bet my mom is reading this right now all "You're STILL NOT SLEEPING? I thought I told you to go to the doctor!" but I don't LIKE to go to the doctor and I feel like I've been at the doctor way too much lately. I prefer when there are years between doctor visits, not weeks. IT'S UNNATURAL AND WRONG AND I WON'T DO IT ANYMORE.

Anyway, um, what? Oh, right, not sleeping. I can tell when the not-sleeping is starting to become a problem because I start acting drunk when in reality I have not had a drop of alcohol since like . . . Tuesday. Like, last night we were watching Ugly Betty and I got really bored and on Halloween Steve left his big, giant, yellow 70's glasses at our apartment and they were sitting right next to me on the end table. So I put them on. Over my regular glasses. And then I was all, "excuse me, Heidi, I have something urgent and important to tell you" and she ripped her attention away from Ugly Betty and then she died laughing. I swear. Then she came back to life and took a picture of me in my two pairs of glasses reading some F. Scott Fitzgerald. We laughed so hard you guys. It was like the time we drank a bottle of wine and then looked at lolcats. Only we had no wine last night. None. Also, I told Heidi that someone found my blog by Googling "accidental butt sex," and then WE Googled "accidental butt sex" (I'm on page 2 of the results, btw) and it turns out this one girl really did have accidental butt sex. I won't go into details. YOU'RE WELCOME.

And then this happened:

Me: I love you sweeaaaaatSHIRT. RED HOODED sweeeeeaaaatSHIRT. DIP DIP DIP.
Heidi: Um, what are you singing?
Me: HELLO. The red-hooded sweatshirt song?
Heidi: . . .
Me: BY ADAM SANDLER.
Heidi: Oh.
Me: Oh, THAT IS IT, you need to see this.

And then we watched it. It was as awesome as I remember.

Also, last week, Heidi was just sitting on the couch reading a magazine and I was all, "who do you think would win in a fight . . . Han Solo or Indiana Jones?" and she gave me this look like . . . what? She answered and half-heartedly debated the subject for a couple of minutes, but I could tell she really wanted to go back to her magazine. I mean, I think the answer is obviously Han Solo. Indiana Jones may be handy with a whip, but Han Solo has a blaster and CHEWBACCA. So. You do the math.

And earlier today? One of our employees called me from Iraq and it was really hard to talk to him because there was a weird delay after anything either of us said. So I had him repeat his email address like 87 times and he was like "blah blah at echo echo charlie dot mil," and I almost stopped him and asked him what the hell kind of email address is blahblah@echoechocharlie.mil? But then I got what he was doing. Do you see why I need to start sleeping? Insomnia is making me stupider than I already am and I cannot function like that.

This has nothing to do with not sleeping, but you guys, I am seriously about to go crazy. This girl in my office has been listening to Christmas music for like two weeks now. I swear. And it's so loud. And one day she listened to " The 12 Pains of Christmas" on repeat for like an hour. IT'S TOO EARLY FOR CHRISTMAS MUSIC. And someone put up a tiny Christmas tree! IT'S TOO EARLY FOR CHRISTMAS TREES, I DON'T CARE HOW WEE IT IS. Do you remember that episode of Grey's Anatomy where Cristina Yang goes all Grinchy and takes that little kid's Christmas tree out of his room? And Burke got all that sand in his vagina because she didn't buy into his "spirituality" and happy Christmas bullshit? I'm totally on her side.

Surprise, surprise.

Discovered by the Germans in 1904, they named it San Diego, which of course in German means a whale's vagina.

I don't know why, but I have been super productive lately. It's like I don't even know who I am anymore. Yesterday, on my lunch break, instead of staring at the Internet for an hour ( which is what I normally do), I wrote an article, balanced my checkbook, and went to the bank, CVS and the gas station. ALL IN AN HOUR. I know you're impressed, don't pretend you're not.

And last night, once I got home from work, I did two TWO! loads of laundry, wrote an article, cleaned my bathroom, changed the shower curtain liner, vacuumed my bedroom and took out the trash. NOW who is impressed?

I feel like I had more to say but now I can't remember what any of it was. Oh well.

Here's something. Every time I'm about to go running, I get Tiffany's "I Think We're Alone Now," stuck in my head because of when she's all, "running just as fast as we can . . . holding onto one another's hands . . . trying to get away, into the night, and then you put your arms around me as we tumble to the ground and then you say . . . I THINK WE'RE ALONE NOW, there doesn't seem to be anyone around." I will have you know I didn't have to look up any of those lyrics. Impressed?

COME ON! What do I have to do to impress you people? Jerks.

So you want to hear how I almost pantsed myself in the apartment complex parking lot? Too bad. Well, I have this pair of gym shorts that I wear all the time. I don't know why I still wear them because they are far, far too big. They barely stay up. But they're so comfortable. So I went outside to take the trash out and I had to put the trash down so I could lock the door behind me. Here is why I had to lock the door: the dumpster is behind our building so I can't see our door the entire time, and I'm always paranoid that if I leave it unlocked, some miscreant (not a zombie, though, because they are not smart enough to think of these kinds of shenanigans) is going to run into our apartment and hide somewhere (like UNDER MY BED!) until I come back in and then he'll ATTACK ME WHEN I'M LEAST EXPECTING IT. You can tell me this is completely irrational, and you wouldn't be wrong, but Heidi thinks the same thing so at least I'm not alone in my irrationality. So. Anyway. As I put the trash down so I could lock the door, some pokey thing sticking out of the trash bag got snagged on my shorts and pulled them down. Not all the way. Just like one butt cheek. Also I was wearing underwear. And it was dark outside on account of all the nighttime in the air.

I bet you're at impressed now. Sure, maybe you're only impressed with how stupid I am, but I'll take it.

If I run uphill I'm outta breath, if I spend all of my money, then I've got no money left. If I place all of my chips on only one bet, I'm all in.

Good morning, Internets. How is everyone this morning? I woke up and my room was FREEZING. FREE-ZING. I slept with my window wide open last night and apparently it snowed or something because my room felt like an icebox. I had to put pants on, it was so cold. I mean, I was already wearing shorts. But I had to dig my pajama pants out of the drawer. That's how cold it was. Oh my god. This is so boring I want to jump out the window.

[sidebar: this is going to be a long one (that's what she said) so good luck making it all the way through . . . do you have some water? a map? mind-altering drugs? good]

Anyway, so that's why I'm drinking coffee right now. Well, that and coffee is my bitch mistress lover. I don't know. Also, I'm drinking it out of this:


Siiiiiiiigh. Yeah, um, I'm pretty happy I can drink out of it at home because I can't take it to work and I'd hate for that $1 to go to waste. Here is why I cannot take it to work. The head of our IT department is named Jim and he would tease me mercilessly if he saw that sitting on my desk. Although, he pretty much teases me mercilessly anyway, so maybe it wouldn't matter all that much. Eh. Whatever.

Last night, I went running and a turkey buzzard DIVEBOMBED MY HEAD! I thought I was going to die. Seriously, it was like half my size and it could fly so I think it had the advantage. I'm not sure why it divebombed my head. Maybe it thought I was a squirrel? But I'm pretty sure turkey buzzards only eat dead animals. Oh my god, you guys, do I look like a dead squirrel? You'd tell me if I looked like a dead squirrel, right? Anyway, then a couple of blocks later I almost got hit by a police car because I didn't look before I crossed the street and also I can't hear cars when I'm running on account of the loud music blasting in my ears. But if you're going to get hit by a vehicle and it's NOT an ambulance, I really think a police car is the way to go.

SO! Internets. Spoon is coming to Cincinnati soon and I knew this a couple of weeks ago but I talked myself out of going because Heidi and I have to get up early the next morning and drive to Cleveland for another freaking wedding and I thought it'd be irresponsible to go to a concert and come home late the night before but then I realized I DON'T CARE because GODDAMMIT, I'M ONLY 25 AND I'LL DO WHAT I WANT AND WHAT I WANT TO DO IS GO SEE SPOON IN CINCINNATI, SLEEP BE DAMNED! DAMNED, I SAY! Ahem. Anyway. So I'm going to that. The best part is, I don't have to go by myself because Three-hole-punch Steve likes Spoon, too, and I might even be able to talk Heidi into going if I tell her she'll get to make Spoon and Fork and Knife jokes all night. Spoon! Heidi makes fun of all the music I like. See:

Heidi: What CD do you have there?
Me: Shiny Toy Guns.
Heidi: Your music is so violent.
Me: No, it's not.
Heidi: Yes, it is. Shiny Toy Guns are dangerous.
Me: They're toys. And what about The Postal Service. That's not dangerous.
Heidi: Yeah-huh, cause Shiny Toy Guns are what The Postal Service uses to shoot people when they go crazy.
Me: Oh yeah? How about Rilo Kiley? Do something with that I DARE YOU.
Heidi: OK, fine.
Me: Hey. You know what kind of cab you'd ride in if you were a cutie?
Heidi: Heh. What?
Me: A DEATH CAB.

This took place in Target because Heidi and I like to put on short, one act plays for the other Target patrons. I think they like it. Later, we caught the tail end of The Office (not at Target) and had this conversation (with my roommate, duh):

Heidi: I haven't seen the season finale since it was on back in May.
Me: Um, yeah, me neither.
Heidi: Yeah, right. How many times have you watched it since then?
Me: I don't know. Only a couple.
Heidi: More than five times?
Me: No!
Heidi: More than four?
Me: . . .
Heidi: Ha!

And anyway, I think I accidentally lied because I may have seen it way more than five times but who can keep track of that sort of thing?

Since I've veered into conversation territory, let's just keep going, shall we? I called my mom last night because we're supposed to go to my aunt's today to have a party for my cousin. And no one ever tells me anything so I needed to know what time to be there and why were even having it in the first place. And now! CONVERSATION WITH MY MOTHER:

Mom: I got Cousin a card.
Me: A card for what?
Mom: You know, just to show our support for his decision and everything.
Me: What? What decision?
Mom: Oh, he joined the army.
Me: HE DID WHAT?!
Mom: He joined the army.
Me: IS HE RETARDED?!
Mom: Jesus, Jennie, your dad can hear you through the phone.
Me: Sorry. But seriously. What?
Mom: Yeah, your aunt isn't too happy about it, but we should be supportive.
Me: I guess. I'm glad you told me now and not tomorrow in front of everyone.
Mom: Yes, I don't think they would have appreciated your reaction.

True story. I don't ACTUALLY think my cousin is retarded for joining the army DURING WAR TIME. I gave my brain some time to think about it and my brain decided that the only reason I had that reaction was because, um, the army is dangerous? Did I mention war time? And I'm just worried. The army and I are totally fighting right now. AND I don't care if they have tanks and bazookas and nunchucks, I CAN TAKE THEM. Anyway, if you're thinking of joining the army and someone in your life calls you a retard, don't worry, it's only because they love you.

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!

hurry boy, she's waiting there for you

I had a strange weekend, Internets. On Friday, Heidi and I bought beer and pizza. Which is not at all strange or important to the story but I told you anyway so deal with it. Then we came home, ate our pizza, and drank our beer while watching Bring It On and then Elf and while we drank beer and watched these movie classics we made posters. Posters! With markers! And stickers! Also! Thank you, Kat, for the fun poster stuff you sent! We used almost all of it! On the posters!

Oh my god. So I probably should have mentioned that I didn't really sleep last night. I just kind of stared at the ceiling (I tried counting stars on the ceiling but it turns out there aren't any stars on my ceiling . . . a situation I believe should be rectified AS SOON AS POSSIBLE . . . does anyone else think the word "rectified" sounds kind of dirty?) . . . OK, what was I saying? Oh, right, so I didn't really sleep last night. Which is really nothing new, but it should explain why nothing I am about to say is going to make any sense. Are we all clear on that? OK, good.

Anyway, we were making posters because Kate got back from MALAWI AFRICA on Saturday and CLEARLY the first thing she needed to see was her obnoxious friends holding some huge posters.

Did you just hear what I said? KATE IS BACK. FROM MALAWI AFRICA. That's where Madonna tried to steal a baby. Heidi and I got up at 8 o'clock ON A SATURDAY in order to get to the Columbus airport on time, but it turned out we didn't need to leave as early as we did because, go figure, Kate's flight was delayed. I thought maybe it was because a giraffe tried to get on the plane with her in Africa, but I guess it got delayed in Georgia. So, I don't know, maybe a peach tree tried to get on the plane or something.

When we left for the airport, I walked out to my car and noticed something unusual on the ground.

Me: Heidi.
Heidi: Yes?
Me: Heidi.
Heidi: What?
Me: There is a condom on the ground over here.
Heidi: . . .
Me: And it's used.
Heidi: Ew!
Me: I know.
Heidi: I did not need to see that.
Me: It is far too early for used condoms.

I mean, I'm pretty sure there's never a good time to see a used condom. But especially not at 9 AM ON A SATURDAY after you've just inhaled an english muffin and a huge glass of chocolate milk. In case you're interested (and really, why wouldn't you be?), it was still there when I left for work today.

So that was an eventful start to the trip. We got to the airport and sat at McDonald's drinking the largest iced coffees known to mankind and also womankind and probably alienkind, too. Then we decided to go look for a Target, because we had like three hours to kill and ALSO I needed to find an ATM so I could get some cash to pay for parking because I didn't even have enough cash to pay for my Sausage McMuffin and that was less than TWO DOLLARS. Cash is stupid, I hate carrying it. So we got back on the highway and pulled off at a random exit.

Me: OK. So now we need to find a Target.
Heidi: I think we can do it.
Me: Me too. You know how Spiderman has spidey sense? I think we have Target sense.
Heidi: Indeed.
Me: If we actually find a Target I will poop my pants.
Heidi: Then I'll laugh at you because your pants will have poop on them.
Me: Whatever, we'll be at Target, I'll buy new, poopless pants.

And do you know, Internets? We DID find a Target! I did not poop my pants, though. I bought some music instead. It was on sale and there is nothing I like more than discounted music. Unless it's free music. I sometimes wish I didn't have to buy food because then I could spend all my money on music and books. Anyway. More conversations, because they are easier than whole paragraphs and I am lazy.

Heidi: Did you buy a band called Spoon?
Me: Yes, I did.
Heidi: Where are Knife and Fork?
Me: Oh ha ha.
Heidi: I am going to use your Spoon and hit you in The Shins.
Me: You are so clever. How did you get to be so clever?
Heidi: Well, one day I thought I needed to be clever. So I decided to be clever and then I was.
Me: Fair enough.

The point of this entire ball of nonsense is that we finally went to the airport and met Kate! From MALAWI AFRICA! By way of Georgia. Who knew Georgia was a hub for Africa? I didn't. Georgia has more going for it than I thought it did. Also there's a song about it. More than one, actually.

Speaking of songs . . . I have a bone to pick with The Plain White T's. You know that song Hey There, Delilah? I really, really liked it like . . . three or four months ago when I first heard it. At that time, just My Favorite Radio Station Ever was playing it. I was going to buy the CD but I heard from NOT ONE but TWO people that the rest of the CD sucked huge, ginormous donkey balls. My words. Not theirs. I don't think they said anything about huge, ginormous donkey balls and that's something you'd remember, you know? YOU know. I was content to just catch the song on the radio every now or then or listen to it on myspace or youtube or whatever. But now. NOW I can't flip through the goddamn radio stations without hearing it two or three times EVERY TIME I'M IN THE CAR. And that's all well and good, because I still like the song, but if I'm in a certain mood or feeling particularly angsty and thinky? Hearing that song makes me want to rip out my heart and throw it on the ground and stomp up and down on it because THAT'S WHAT IT FEELS LIKE ANYWAY. You know, I'm pretty sure I abused Caps Lock in this post. Oh well. Anyway. Crazy, out.

Other stuff happened this weekend, too. I bought some new bras. We saw some comedians and the laughter? It was plentiful indeed. Heidi and I went to a Mexican restaurant and forgot to order margaritas. And one of our beers exploded all over our kitchen counter! EXPLODED! It was so weird. I took a picture. I'll show you later. Promise.