I was able to be on the scene so quickly because I was in the car that hit her.

I think I watched more TV last night than I have in like a month. Truly. Also, I think I ate more junk food than I have in the past month, too. Pizza! Cookies! OK, that was it, but whatever.

Heidi and I got pizza for dinner and settled down to watch a bunch of TV. We started with America's Next Top Model, moved onto The Real World, and then took a break to go buy cookies because I wouldn't stop talking about CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES and we sure as hell weren't going to MAKE them. Anyway, we didn't have milk so we had to go to the store. You see the logic? Good.

So on the way home from the store, there was the craziest conversation with my roommate ever. So crazy, in fact, that I'm not even going to try to recreate it because there's no way I can do it justice. We did talk about the fact that Heidi writes down everything that I say in a secret diary to use against me later. Because I kept talking about how I don't want kids and she said that in 10 years when I'm pregnant with my 18th child (ok?), she's going to pull it out and be all, "Remember when we were 25 and you said you didn't want kids? Well, I have it right here." And I am telling you RIGHT NOW that the only way I'm going to end up with 18 kids is if I go the Angelina Jolie route and just adopt one from every country or something. They are not coming out of my vagina. No way. Did you know you poop in front of people while you're in labor? NO THANK YOU TO THAT.

Also, she told me she hopes I marry someone with the last name "Dixon" so she can call me "Dix." That statement would probably make more sense if I tell you that almost every one of my friends call me "Bax." Which is short for my last name. I have had so many nicknames in my lifetime that I sometimes forget my real name. True story.

Also, other stuff happened, but I can't remember it right now. When we got home, we made cookies (duh) and they were delicious, especially because we ate them while they were still warm and gooey. Then we watched Ugly Betty. I've seen like two episodes total of that show and I don't know that Heidi has ever seen it so we really had no idea what was going on, but it was SO GOOD you guys. So good! I forget why I never watched it before. Oh, right, because it was on at the same time as The Office. I would talk about The Office now, but it made me so happy that I think if I talk about it too much my head might explode so I'll just say I liked it a whole lot and also I love PB&J and that is all.

Then we watched Grey's Anatomy. Eh.

I have decided that I'm going to listen to The Shins all day today. All Shins All Day! Chutes too Narrow, Oh Inverted World, Wincing the Night Away, MAYBE even the Garden State soundtrack. CAN YOU FEEL THE EXCITEMENT? Actually, I'm starting with Wincing the Night Away so I may not get to the rest of them. And that's OK. Dear self, stop babbling.

Oh, and Mom? I was thinking about it and I figured out that it isn't The Shins you don't like, because I remembered you said the song you didn't like was called "everybody something," and I'm fairly certain The Shins don't sing a song called "everybody something" and also if they do sing a song called "everybody something" I'm pretty sure I've never linked to it on my blog, so even though YOU SAID you don't like The Shins, I think in IN FACT what you meant was you don't like REM. So you might like The Shins (this is them) but if you don't like REM, I still might have to disown you. Sorry, but you brought this on yourself. Although, I haven't disowned you and dad for liking Two and a Half Men, so I might be able to overlook this.

Dear self, I believe I told you to stop babbling. Because WOW.

Dwight, you ignorant slut.

I just got back from a very traumatic run. A bug. Flew in. My eye. MY EYE. THE THING I USE TO SEE. It was gross. Like, I was concentrating so hard on the bugs not flying in my mouth that I didn't even see it coming. Get it? SEE IT coming? Anyway, it was sort of good because I think it made me run faster because I just wanted to get home and make sure all the bug pieces were out of my eye.

Before I left, I called my mom to tell her I was going running by myself in the dark because, while I am borderline retarded, I am not so stupid to run off into the night without telling someone where I'm going.

When I got home, I called to tell her I was still alive, which led to this:

Mom: Are you back?
Me: Yes.
Mom: Did you run into Sexy Man or whatever you call him?
Me: Hot Guy*?
Mom: Yeah, him.
Me: No, Mom, I did not run into Hot Guy.
Mom: Too bad.
Me: Sorry.
Mom: Well, a mother can hope.
Me: You hope I meet a strange boy while running in the dark?
Mom: No, not a boy. A MAN.
Me: OK.
Mom: Although, I'd hope he wouldn't live in an apartment complex. He should have a house.
Me: Why?
Mom: Because that means he's established.
Me: I don't have a house. Why should I expect him to have a house if I don't have one?
Mom: Because that means he's mature. One of you needs to be.
Me: Thanks.

And then! She told me she didn't like The Shins! I might have to disown her. She said she'd rather listen to Spoon, which . . . fine, but that brought up another sore subject. Yesterday I found out that the Spoon concert I was going to go to was CANCELED. Because the band is going to be on SNL instead. I mean, come ON. Ohio vs. Saturday Night Live . . . OK, never mind, they did the right thing. I'm still pretty devastated, though. Stupid crap ass Ohio.

*although I DID see him earlier tonight . . . twice, even! Hey, wouldn't it be funny if Hot Guy found my blog? He'd be all, "oh my god, am I Hot Guy?" and then he'd get creeped out and move away. So I really hope he doesn't know about The Internets.

heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey LYLA

The past couple nights I haven't slept, um, at all? Mostly because it decided to get all hot again and we turned off our air conditioning and we REFUSE TO TURN IT ON AGAIN BECAUSE SUMMER IS OVER DAMMIT.

Not only does the hot hot heat make sleeping difficult, but it makes getting ready in the morning hell on earth. Because, you know, it doesn't matter how not-hot I make my shower, by the time I've finished blow-drying my hair, I want to die. So I stand in front of the fan, swaying back and forth with it in an unholy dance of sweat and misery.

IT'S HOT. And it's making me whiny. Whinier. Actually, I think today it's only supposed to be 80.

So anyway, since I haven't really been sleeping, I was pretty tired last night. I got in bed at 9:30 (DON'T YOU JUDGE ME) with a book and I think I fell asleep around 10:30 or 11, but the problem was I kept waking up. Stupid brain. Go to sleep. Also, the book was really good. I'm reading Catch-22 because instead of buying new books I've decided to check out old books from the library that I probably should have read by this point of my life. Which is why I read this*. And also why I've read three Vonnegut books in the past month and I have another one sitting on my shelf waiting to be read. Books! Yay! Also, my mom wants to read Pride & Prejudice. Welcome to the dark side, Mom. Only it's not really dark. Kind of light, actually. Maybe a bit cloudy. It is England, after all.

*please bury me with this book

Almighty TiVo, we thank you for all the gifts you have given us. The power to freeze live TV to go take a leak* is nothing short of god-like.

I don't know what to write. Um. Conversation With My Roommate!

[in my car, aka "Sasha"]

Heidi: What CD are you putting in?
Me: Death Cab for Cutie.
Heidi: I think you should change your car's name to Death Cab.
Me: Um.
Heidi: Because you're the cutie . . .
Me: Aww, thanks!
Heidi: Sure. And so the car would be your Death Cab.
Me: Are you sure you're not just saying I'm a bad driver?
Heidi: Haha, no!
Me: OK then.

But I am sort of a bad driver. Not a REALLY bad driver, but I just get distracted really easily. So Death Cab is probably a really fitting name for my car, minus the cutie part.

Oh my god, what am I even talking about.

So last night, Heidi and I were watching How I Met Your Mother (thank you, TiVo) and I heard this weird, liquidy noise (ew) and I looked down the hallway and Phoebe had just projectile vomited all over the place. It was disgusting, but also impressive because of the sheer VOLUME of puke. Clearly, she's got a problem. She had just eaten so we think she might be bulimic. Heidi and I stared at the pile of puke for a couple minutes and exclaimed "OH MY GOD! LOOK HOW MUCH PUKE THERE IS!" a few times because YOU GUYS! This pile of puke had to have weighed more than Phoebe! It took me like half a roll of paper towels to clean it all up. Also, it was still warm and I made sure to tell Heidi all about how warm and gooey it was while I cleaned it up. Gross. I think I just threw up in my mouth a little. Why am I still talking about this? Clearly, I have a problem, too.

*also to clean up cat puke

lacking active conscious knowledge or awareness

Last night, Heidi and I were talking about the Springfield Mall. I don't know why. I worked there my junior year of college because it's like five minutes away from campus. I worked at Vitamin World. It was as glamorous as you can imagine. Anyway, I'm not sure how we got to talking about that mall, but who cares because CONVERSATION WITH MY ROOMMATE:

Me: That was such a good job. We were only busy on like two days of the month when we had a giant sale, but other than that hardly anyone came in.
Heidi: Oh really? [what she should have said: Jennie, you are boring, shut up]
Me: Yeah. This one guy? He worked at Lazarus. And he'd come in every night and buy one of those gross protein bars.
Heidi: Haha. Ew.
Me: This one night he came in and I was working alone and he handed me this wad of cash but didn't wait for his change. And when I looked down, there was a slip of paper with the money and it had a phone number on it.
Heidi: Oooh!
Me: Heh, yeah, wait. Anyway, when I saw it, I was like, "Weird! This piece of paper has a phone number on it. I wonder why? Oh well," and then I threw it away.
Heidi: You did not.
Me: I did. And it wasn't until I was telling the story to someone later that they were all, "Jennie, he gave you his phone number. And you threw it away."
Heidi: Wow.
Me: I know. I am an asshole. But it didn't even occur to me! I just thought he handed me garbage!
Heidi: Was he cute?
Me: Yes.
Heidi: You are so special.
Me: Tell me about it.
Heidi: And this is why Jennie is single.
Me: Seriously, though.

Also, this one time an old man came in and hit on me for like an hour. He was wearing a cowboy hat and boots, eating an ice cream cone, and was shorter than I am. I turned down his offer (several times) but sadly, this is how obvious men have to be before I realize that they might like me. I mostly wander through the world with my head in the clouds, so not only do I run into stuff all the time, I am pretty much oblivious to things that may seem obvious to everyone else. Lazarus boy, if you're out there, I'm sorry. I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. I thought you were very cute and totally would have let you buy me dinner, and not just because I was in college and poor.

someone on the radio is trying to get me to drive into oncoming traffic

Monday + no sleep last night + Everybody Hurts on the radio = bleh

don't wake me, I plan on sleeping in

Last night, I was coming out of a restaurant where I had just been treated to a lovely dinner by my lovely parents, and I noticed I had a voicemail from Heidi. It started like this:

Hello, JENNIE, this is Heidi. Your roommate. I was just calling because there's this situation at the apartment . . .

and at this moment, I started visualizing all sorts of things. Like Phoebe had somehow turned on the fireplace or the stove and caught the apartment on fire or had gotten herself locked in the microwave with a rabid monkey or SOMETHING WORSE. Then, after I had a mini-heart attack, I kept listening:

I just thought you should know that Hot Guy is outside playing football. And he has Hot Friends. So you should get home ASAP so you can see Hot Guy and his Hot Friends playing Hot Football.

Unfortunately by the time I got home, the Hotness was over. So sad. There are actually two Hot Guys in our apartment complex that Heidi and I have been keeping an eye on recently. One has dark hair and one has light hair and I almost hit the one with light hair with my car in the parking lot one day. I've only had one run in with the dark-haired guy. It was at the very end of my run and I passed him on the sidewalk. He was running the other way and looked like he was just getting started. WHY I couldn't have seen him before my face was beet red and my hair was sweat-plastered to my face, I don't know. Anyway, I told Heidi it reminds me a lot of high school, like when you have a crush on the captain of the football team (I don't get this particular cliche . . . I don't remember having a crush on the captain of any team) and you walk by his locker between classes so you can giggle and tell your friends about it later. Because whenever one of us sees Hot Guy 1 or Hot Guy 2 we have to tell the other. In fact, the reason we were sitting on the balcony last night drinking beer and playing Truth or Dare was because we were spying on Hot Guy and his friends. WHAT? What did YOU do last night that was so exciting?

Our game of Truth or Dare escalated quickly. Truths suddenly jumped from "did you ever have a crush on a teacher in high school" to "would you ever get back together with [name has been deleted]?" and "how do you really feel about [oh you'd better BELIEVE name has been deleted]." And then the dares went from "I dare you to tell the Internets that you're a lesbian" to "I dare you to throw your underwear in that tree." By the way, the underwear stayed up there until about an hour ago, when Heidi found it on the front stoop. Heh.

Anyway, Heidi left a little while ago so I have nothing else to do but sit here and write these damn How To articles. Actually, it is about 800 degrees in our apartment right now so really what I've been doing is lying on the floor in front of the fan and whining about how hot it is even though no one can hear me, unless of course Hot Guy is outside exacting his revenge by spying on our apartment. Which I'm actually totally fine with, SO TAKE THAT, HOT GUY!