Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Funniest guy she's ever met? I'm funny, right? What do you know, you're a door! You just like knock-knock jokes! Ha ha ha. Save it for inside.
I said I WAS having a bad day. Because then I went to check out the Hoagie (heehee, hoagie) nominees and saw my name. Whoo and hoo! And also yay!
I was nominated for Hilarious-est blog and since I've always equated laughter (with me, at me, whatever) with people liking me, I was pretty happy. I even choked down some more cranberry juice in excitement, which isn't a good idea because . . . you know, the choking and everything.
So, please. Laugh at me. Like me. Or I might cry. And they don't give you gold turkeys for crying.
Although, they might still give you candy.
Monday, November 06, 2006
I love drunk Monica! She's so much more fun than regular Monica!
Another reason I'm excited? Besides the actual voting process? The dirty, dirty ads will stop. Some lady on a recording called our apartment yesterday to tell me that she had gone undercover in Sherrod Brown's office and sold drugs to one of his employees but before she could finish I interrupted with, and I believe my exact words were, "oh, for fuck's sake," and then I hung up. True story.
Also, I believe tomorrow's election is the reason the cleaning guy felt the need to tell me all about how he's a Libertarian and how, if I really think about it, I'm probably a Libertarian, too. That's great and all, I love to have a deep, politicized conversations at 9 o'clock on a Monday morning but I don't really enjoy having to yell them over the noise of a steam cleaner. Also, don't tell me how to vote on the Issues, capital I. Maybe you are mistaking my silence for ignorance, but really I'm just wishing you would shut up and leave me alone. Really. Shh. Mama's tired.
Last night, I confessed something to my roommate and I fear she now knows just how OCD I can be. AND NOW Conversations With My Roommate:
Me: I have a confession to make.
Heidi: Uh-oh.
Me: While you were gone I alphabetized the DVDs.
Heidi: Haha, I thought I noticed that!
Me: Really?
Heidi: Well, yeah, I saw the two Zoolanders at the end of the row and thought, "I didn't know Jennie had Zoolander."
Me: That's how it started! I was just going to put our duplicate copies next to each other and then once I started that I figured why not just put them all in alphabetical order.
Heidi: Nice.
Me: I stopped myself from separating them by genre, though.
Heidi: Oh my god.
Me: That's how I have my CDs organized. And I used to separate my books into Fiction and Non-Fiction and within the Non-Fiction I'd separate them by subject matter.
Heidi: WOW, it's like we live in a bookstore.
Me: Well, I did used to work in a library.
Heidi: That explains it.
Although, to be honest, I don't think working at the library was so much a cause as it was an enabler. I'm sick, OK?
Sunday, November 05, 2006
I was thinking . . . will there ever be a boy born who can swim faster then a shark?
Luckily, my parents had an extra computer monitor that I can use until I get paid on Friday and can afford to go buy a new one. BUT, between the hours of about 5:30 last night and 2 o'clock today, I was without access to The Internets. It was rough, especially since I had already decided to stay in and be a good girl (to make up for last weekend). I was stuck all alone with my thoughts with no outlet for my word vomit (thanks, Tamara) ALL. Night. Long. Now THAT is scary.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
crazy, crazy, everybody laugh

Don't be jealous of my cute shoes or awesome roommate, OK? Unfortunately, it's too cold outside for me to wear them, but come April or May when it finally warms up again, or if I win the lottery and can afford to go on vacation? I'm totally busting these babies out.
Heidi always bought a quesadilla maker. A QUESADILLA MAKER. This will go well with the enormous amount of tortilla soup we have left from our Max & Erma's Tortilla Soup experiment.
So, last night, I had my pajamas on by the time Heidi got home from her flat tire debacle (8:30, nice), I was ignoring my phone (even calls from a boy), and I was watching Center Stage. Why, yes, it was an exciting night, thank you. Then she suggested we go see a movie. Namely, Borat. Who would turn that down? Not me. Especially when the movie theater is two minutes from our apartment. So, even though it meant changing from my pajamas to regular clothes, we went to the movies. And even though it was a 9:50 showing, the theater was packed. AND worst of all? When we tried to go to the little kiosk where you can just swipe your credit card and it prints you a ticket? It wasn't working! Oh, no! We always buy our tickets there, because you can totally buy them for the senior citizen price and the 15-year-old boys never say anything when they rip your ticket. My dad gave me a disapproving look when I told him we did this, but I'm sorry, most movies are not worth 9 dollars or however much they cost now. I don't know, because senior citizens only have to pay $6.75. Anyway, so we had to buy our tickets through the regular line and I was really happy that I never take anything out of my purse/wallet because the guy asked if I had a military or student ID for the discount and I TOTALLY DID. He must have overlooked that my student ID said "2004" on it, or he just assumed I was really dumb and still in college.
I forget where I was going with this. Oh well. Anyway, the movie was HILARIOUS. I laughed til I cried. And I actually missed pieces of the dialogue because the theater was so loud. With the laughter. And people peeing themselves. Which can be loud. Also smelly. I really feel like there should have been some kind of warning at the beginning of the movie. Something like, "there is male nudity in this movie, fat and hairy male nudity, that may cause the viewer to laugh hysterically and then want to pour bleach onto their brain . . . watch at your own risk."
It would have been helpful, is what I'm saying.
When we got out of the theater, I saw that one of my friends had called but hadn't left a message. And when I called her back, she said she was calling to tell me she was engaged. Another one bites the dust. RIP. Ha, just kidding, congratulations, Nancy!
Seriously, though, that is five, count them FIVE, of my friends who are at this very moment engaged. One, two, tree, four, five! Yeah, counting them like The Count doesn't make it any less scary. If Heidi gets engaged soon, I'm going to Vegas and marrying the first guy I see there.
OK, not really. Maybe the second guy.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Indians do not eat monkey brains. And if they do, sign me up. Because I am sure they are very tasty. And nutritional.
So, anyway, Heidi's making fun of me and we're both laughing and waving our arms around all "danger, danger Will Robinson!" and it's not until the light changes that I realize there is a guy in the lane next to us LAUGHING HIS ASS OFF. He hadn't even noticed that the light changed at first because he was too busy laughing at us. I was not embarrassed, just happy to bring a little bit of joy to someone in this cold, hard world. Then, at the grocery some old guy told us not to buy Kroger hamburger buns because he bought them once and they went bad in one day. I got a little offended that he was implying our buns were rotten, but I know he meant well. Also, at the grocery store Heidi was very proud of me because our total came to 69 dollars and I didn't yell, "HAHA 69!" or giggle even a little bit. Until we left the store, anyway.
On the way home, we totally solved some marriage problems, too. AND NOW, Conversations With My Roommate That My Family May Want to Never, Ever Read:
Heidi: I heard this lady on the radio today talking about how to talk to guys like a guy.
Me: Oh, yeah?
Heidi: Yeah, she said it works, too. Like, she stopped nagging her husband to do stuff and she'd just ask him once? And if he didn't do it, she'd be all, "Hey, stop being lazy and do this."
Me: So, basically, you just have to be mean to him?
Heidi: Yeah.
Me: That doesn't sound healthy.
Heidi: No, but I guess it works.
Me: I think when I get married I'm going to trade sexual favors for chores.
Heidi: Haha, what, like one chore is worth two blowjobs?
Me: Well, it would depend on the chore. Like, mowing the lawn is three blowjobs, to be given at the recipient's convenience.
Heidi: Only, not consecutively.
Me: Obviously.
Heidi: You need resting time.
Me: Right. And if it's a small chore, like emptying the dishwasher? You get a handjob.
Heidi: I thought you were gonna say handshake.
Me: No, that's for something like, I don't know, opening the car door.
Heidi: Nice.
Me: Yeah, and for other small chores . . . I don't know.
Heidi: He could watch you undress!
Me: Haha, yeah . . . "ok, honey, I won't wear flannel pajamas tonight, I'll wear a nightie."
Heidi: This will help so many people.
Me: Yes, although they probably shouldn't take my advice, since I've never been married.
Heidi: So?
Me: By the way, this is so Conversations With My Roommate material.
Heidi: Yessssss.
Me: Maybe one day I'll have enough to publish a book of Conversations With My Roommate.
Heidi: Hey, that can be your whatever it's called novel.
Me: Huh?
Heidi: What did Beau call it? Your NanoMonkey thing?
Me: It's not NanoMonkey!
Heidi: Whatever, at first I thought you were talking about some place in New York.
Me: What?
Heidi: Because of all the capital letters? Like SOHO?
Me: Oh my god. You did not just say that.
Heidi: Ha. Yeah, I did.
Me: I can't wait to tell the Internets.
For the record, I am not doing NaNoWriMo (it's not Nanomonkey, BEAU) or NaBloPoMo or NaNoPOOmo or whatever they're called. Not because I'm lazy, because I'm REALISTIC. What, stop laughing.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
if I had a million dollars (if I had a million dollars), I'd buy you a green dress (but not a real green dress, that's cruel)
Anyway, so while at Kroger I had to call my mom because I couldn't find the tortilla crunchies and if there is anyone who knows that particular Kroger better than me, it is my mom. She pointed me in the right direction, thankfully. They're above the salads, FYI, and maybe if I wasn't so goddamn short I would have noticed them during my ten minute stint of staring at the different packages, looking for the Lite Caesar Salad kits. Have you had those? They're phenomenal and since you have to mix it all together in a bowl I tell myself it's almost like I'm cooking. So, I got what I needed and headed to the checkout AKA Hell. Since every regular line was really long, and the 15 items or less lines were closed (seriously, wtf?), I went to the self checkout. OK, I normally go through the self checkout if I only have a few items, even if all the other lines are empty, because I really try to limit the amount of human interaction I have each day. Of course, I had to wait for the following Self-Checkout Monsters to finish before it was my turn:
Old Slowy Slowerson - She spent approximately 30 seconds examining each item before scanning it and placing it very gingerly in one of the plastic bags.
McBeersALot Lady - She bought a lot of beer. I'm not judging, it just takes extra time for her to show her ID to the cashier on duty (heh, DOODY) even though she is clearly 107 years old.
Guy with Full Cart - Look, Guy, you have approximately 73 items in your cart, you should not be in this line. Look at me. I am holding a package of salad, tortilla crunchies, and kitty litter. Who do you think is more appropriate for this line? Oh, good. You're paying in change, too. Die, please.
Two Girls Who Are Obviously High School Students and My God I Hope I Was Never That Annoying - Oh, wait for this. They rang their stuff up separately and while the second one was ringing her stuff up? She realized she forgot something so she sent her friend to go fetch it while a line of people formed behind her. I think I should be allowed to kill someone in situations like this.
So, finally, when McBeersALot Lady left to have a very pleasant and hazy evening, it was my turn. I scanned, bagged, and paid for my items in record time and even finished before Guy with Full Cart and Old Slowy Slowerson. I was even halfway home before I realized I'd forgotten the coffee creamer.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
oh sweet alluring Baby Ruth, why must you tempt me so? but look yonder! it is frothy 3 Muskateers, come to rid me of your tempty tempting temptingness
But, seeing as how we had one trick-or-treater before we gave up on our apartment and went to poach trick-or-treaters at my parent's house, we still have a shit ton of candy. Which means lots of tummyaches to come. Oh, happy happy. Joy joy.
AND NOW . . . Conversations with my Roommate and Also the Cutest Little Spiderman in All the Land:
Spiderman: Trick-or-treat!
Me: Aww, you have been our only trick-or-treater tonight.
Spiderman: Oh.
Me: Wait, don't leave!
Heidi: Yeah, that just means you get a TON of candy!
Spiderman: Ok!
Me: Here you go.
Spiderman: WOW that is a ton!
Me: I know.
Spiderman: Have a happy Halloween!
Heidi: Oh my god, let's steal him.
And then we did. Did you know they let you post to your blog in jail? True story.