Of all the Liz Lemons in the world, you're the Liz Lemoniest.

The date of my 10 year high school reunion was announced yesterday. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, it seems super awkward to go hang out at a bar with people I haven't seen in ten years, people I only interact with on Facebook, and people who call me Jennifer like that's perfectly normal. On the other hand, it is at a bar and it seems like the majority of my Facebook HS friends have grown into people I might like to hang out with, so who knows?

I didn't have a bad high school experience, just a long one, you know? Like I was waiting and waiting to get out of there already so my real (read: fun) life could finally start rocking my face off. Which it did. I've never missed high school, I don't have any particularly nostalgic feelings toward my high school experiences, and if I want to hang out with anyone I went to high school with, I could message them on Facebook THUS IS THE POWER OF THE INTERNET. I actually don't have many lasting memories from my high school years, which leads me to believe they must not have been that bad. Surely not as bad as one of my classmates, who left the following comment on the event invite: Goddamn why wouldn't I want to see a bunch of people that I A.)never knew, B.)never liked, C.)never liked me... This sounds AWESOME!

Yeesh. Although...I see his point SUCH IS MY DILEMMA.

I don't know if I'm going to go yet. It's about a month before my wedding so I could always play the "too busy" card. Or, you know, that might be a good weekend for something bachelorette-party-like. What I'm saying is, I'm planning my escape should the Attending list get too scary.

My main source of concern is that ever since I saw that episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon goes to her high school reunion and discovers she had unintentionally been terrorizing her classmates all through high school, I've been terrified that I did the same thing and I'll go to my reunion and EVERYONE WILL HATE ON ME and there is just not enough alcohol in the world to battle that.

Blerg.

poopbutt

why isn't it 5 yet?

no poking

The opener for Ben Folds last week was Kate Miller-Heidke and I was a bit skeptical when she walked out, mostly because the last UD concert we went to was Guster and the opener was the winner of the local battle of the bands contest and...yeah, they were not great. But luckily, she was so good, you guys. She was a tiny, little blond lady with a big voice (think Kristen Chenoweth with less Broadway) from Australia (think Claire with less "Chah-lie, whea's my baybee") and she was adorable.

After a few songs, I remembered this awesome song about Facebook I'd seen months and months ago on my travels around the internet and I thought the singer had been a tiny blond woman, but couldn't remember for sure. How great would that be, I thought, and every time she went to the piano I was all, "this is it...she's going to play the Facebook song," while at the same time telling myself to STFU because what are the chances that some random person I saw on Youtube so long ago would be opening for Ben Folds on THAT VERY NIGHT? Well, it turns out the chances were pretty good because the next time she went to the piano, she sang the Facebook song and I tried not to jump out of my seat, so giddy was I with the excitement of BEING SO RIGHT. Anyway. Here's the Facebook song:

REPOST! ain't too proud to beg

Some of you may know that I volunteer with a group called Oak Tree Corner, a place for children and teens to go to when someone close to them has died. I've written about it here and here. And probably other places, too, only I can't find those other places. Anyway.

Oak Tree's big yearly fundraiser is on April 24. We are funded solely on charitable contributions from friends, family, and the community. So, if you think this sounds like a good cause or you have an extra $5 laying around, would you consider donating? Pretty please? If you donate, I'll write a post about whatever you want. Or I'll send you candy, which is probably more of an enticement than me babbling about killer zombie monkeys from space or whatever. Again, I say ANYWAY.

THIS is where you can make donations and become my best friend.

big ole FAT rain

Remember how last week I was complaining about my weekend full of all grown up activities? Maybe I wasn't complaining, necessarily, but I wasn't happy about all the productivity, that's for sure. Well, I more than made up for it this weekend because I barely did anything productive at all. Actually, that's not really true. I did a lot of productive stuff, only I balanced it out with fun stuff because it turns out I am not, in fact, an 89 year old woman but a relatively young person who can still stay up until 3 AM making bad decisions, dammit!

I had the day off on Friday, and I spent it drinking coffee, doing laundry, baking banana bread, and getting caught in a freak rainstorm while running. In that order. It rained two times on Friday, for maybe 20 minutes total, and of course I got caught outside one of those times. It's my own fault, really. I put it off for so long that I ignored the fact that part of the sky looked angry and dark because the other half of the sky looked like a Bob Ross painting. I should have known better. When the sky looks bipolar, YOU STAY INSIDE. Anyway. I was about halfway through my run when it started raining, meaning I was as far from the house as I was going to get. I thought maybe it wouldn't last that long, so I just kept jogging at a snail's pace, which is my normal speed, but then the rain started coming in all sideways and stinging (just like Forrest Gump said) and it freaking hurt, you guys, it really did, so I started running like Phoebe (of Friends, not my cat) does and cars were driving by and I just kept picturing them laughing and laughing at me, not that I blame them because I'm sure I looked ridiculous. So I did what any normal person would do, I found a port-a-potty by the park and hid in there until it stopped raining.

Friday night, we went out with some friends and I got a free birthday shot. I'm thinking of going back on my actual birthday to see if I can get more for free, that's how good it was.

You know what we did on Saturday, Internets? Do you? DO YOU? Well, you might, if you're my friend on Facebook. Or Flickr. Or IRL. But whatever, what we did on Saturday was drive to Columbus so Joe could dry hump meet Ben Folds. It's a pretty well known fact that Joe wants to have Ben's manbabies (I can call him Ben now that we've met), so I couldn't understand why he was hesitant at first. We had at least three conversations like this:

Joe: Ben Folds is going to be at a record store in Columbus on Saturday.
Me: OK, so then we're going to go to that.
Joe: Well, we don't have to.
Me: ...
Joe: If we've got other stuff to do.
Me: SERIOUSLY?!
Joe: Yeah, I mean, we don't have to go, it's no big deal.
Me: SERIOUSLY?!

I think he was just trying to play it cool, though, because he kept breaking into spontaneous giggles on the way to Columbus. We didn't end up having to wait in line long, which was a surprise given it was out the door and down the block. We realized once we got inside that we hadn't brought anything for him to sign (because...we're not smart, ok?) so I grabbed a copy of The 'Burbs because A) HILARIOUS and B) um, HILARIOUS. And then we had Ben Folds sign it. A copy of The 'Burbs. I'm not sure he knew what to make of that, but it's totally relevant. Later, as we were browsing for music since we were in a record store and all, Joe went all ninja and somehow got Ben Folds to sign a print without me even noticing. No word on when the manbabies are due.

Later that night, we went to Steve's housewarming party and I had planned to act like a responsible adult but someone handed me a shot as soon as I walked in the house and who am I to argue with what the universe OBVIOUSLY had planned for me?

We ended up going to a bar and staying there until almost close (I think?) and I didn't get to bed until 3 AM, because I was busy gobbling up bad-idea food (Taco Bell) while watching Ugly Betty. This meant I spent most of Sunday sleeping, which...no complaints there, and then we went to the Ben Folds concert and he was wearing the same shirt as the day before. It was this shirt right here:



Look, we're all wearing glasses! Let's all be best friends and frolic about town wearing our glasses, it'll be so fun BFFs 4-EVA!!1!11!!!!

Mom: What'd you break now? Me: NOTHING. I'm not at home yet.

When Heidi and I lived together, we broke all sorts of appliances. We broke the fridge, the garbage disposal (multiple times), several coffeemakers, not to mention things outside the kitchen like closet doors and toilets, but our most memorable was the oven. Only that wasn't really broken, the oven knob was just on upside down only WHO WOULD KNOW THAT?

Well, anyway, it turns out that all of those broken appliances may have been my fault. Things just break around me. I didn't even touch the garbage disposal at the condo but it broke after us being there NOT EVEN A WEEK. And last night, oh, last night...last night the microwave did things that no microwave is supposed to do EVER.

YOU GUYS, I broke the microwave. Or my brain did. Here is what happened (imagine this is a dramatic reenactment, sort of like the ones they did on Rescue 911...or the ones they do on that I pooped my baby into the toilet show):

Joe and I got home from work.

We started dinner (lemon chicken) in the oven and then settled down to watch an episode of The West Wing while it cooked.

Once the chicken was ready, I put a thing of Uncle Ben's rice in the microwave (You know, the kind where you're supposed to tear the top and then it steams the rice in the bag or whatever? The venting thing will be important later).

It's later. I went to the bathroom and as I walked back out to the kitchen, I heard a big POP and Joe's face was all, "...the hell?" and I was all, "what did you do?" and he was like, "um, the rice exploded and the microwave turned off by itself."

And then we opened the microwave to see that one side of the rice bag had exploded rice all over.

LUCKILY, the rice only had like 9 seconds left to go, so it was totally done WHOOHOO all is not lost!

Except, then we (ok, Joe) cleaned up the exploded rice and tested to make sure the microwave still worked. And it did. We were all WHOOHOO all is not lost! except then the microwave went dark and started sparking inside so we turned it off speedy quick.

We stared at each other, mouths agape. I said, "try it again." Yeah, more sparks. Scary! It was like we had forgotten to push the button in the hatch and the world was about to end only not quite that dramatic.

So, yeah, the microwave was definitely broken. We unplugged it and then ate dinner (since it was ready and all) and then I called my parents (since my dad is our landlord) and explained that the microwave was sparking and could we maybe come over and pick up my microwave from college? I didn't tell them about the rice exploding thing until we got over there but my mom said she's done that, too, and their microwave was JUST FINE thank you and I guess being easily distracted and forgetting to do things like venting the rice SO IT WON'T EXPLODE is genetic.

But whatever. My point is, you should keep all electronic devices away from me, unless you want me to break them with my (unintentional) mind powers.

Yeah, well, you know, that's just, like, your opinion, man.

I feel like I'm suffering from some sort of time traveling sickness, which is weird because I don't remember time traveling. But maybe a side effect of the time traveling sickness is that you can't remember actually time traveling. That'd be a pain in the ass, yeah? I mean, it's not like time traveling is confusing enough, what with trying to make sure you don't run into your past or future self and give yourself a brain hemorrhage and you have to make sure you find your constant and what if you run into wackadoo Faraday and you can't get away from him because he's spouting physics at you in a whisper yell? What then? Anyway, my point is, time traveling is confusing and might also be sickness-inducing so you should probably take your time traveling dinosaur with you just in cases.

Where was I? Right, I was about to tell you about my weekend only you don't know that because I started talking about time travel instead of what I did this weekend which is actually probably good because all I did was grown up stuff. It would have sucked, but Joe was there so that made it better. But like, Friday night I came home and went running right away. Who does that? Oh, I do. And do you know what? Now I don't even remember what else I did Friday night except I know I fell asleep on the sofa watching Joe vs. the Volcano but between the running and the packing...I don't know. I think there might have been some Penn Station involved at some point but OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS HAVE I REALLY BEEN TIME TRAVELING?! This is so cool. Other than the memory loss, but whatever.

OK, so Saturday was the really grown up day because here is what we did, you guys, just wait until you hear this: got up way too early for a Saturday, loaded the car with boxes, went to Budget to rent a truck, picked up my washer and dryer from the old apartment storage unit, dropped them off at the new storage unit, took the truck back, ate some lunch, took stuff to Goodwill, went to Ikea, went to Target, got some dinner, went home, Joe put Ikea stuff together, I addressed Save the Dates, watched The Big Lebowski, drank beer OMG aren't you tired? I am. Also, that was boring, let's talk more about time travel, OK?

but the children love the books

Some of you may know that I volunteer with a group called Oak Tree Corner, a place for children and teens to go to when someone close to them has died. I've written about it here and here. And probably other places, too, only I can't find those other places. Anyway.

Oak Tree's big yearly fundraiser is on April 24. We are funded solely on charitable contributions from friends, family, and the community. So, if you think this sounds like a good cause or you have an extra $5 laying around, would you consider donating? Pretty please? If you donate, I'll write a post about whatever you want. Or I'll send you candy, which is probably more of an enticement than me babbling about killer zombie monkeys from space or whatever. Again, I say ANYWAY.

THIS is where you can make donations and become my best friend.

this is what happens when you feed yourself nothing but caffeine and junk food for a week straight

Guess what, y'all? Yes, I just said y'all. Sometimes I pretend I'm from the South because accents are fun. Anyway, guess what? I'M MOVING TOMORROW. I keep switching from rabid excitement that I get to live with Joe (JEALOUS?) and crippling sadness that Heidi and I won't be roommates anymore (SAD FACE) and it's exhausting, y'all. EXHAUSTING. I'm so tired! It's making me not make much sense. I will show you. Here is an excerpt from the email I sent Joe this morning:

I'm just responding to your email from yesterday because I'm lazy, that's why! Hee. I've had a tense morning so far. I got up late (naturally) so I was running late (what is wrong with me?) and then I couldn't find my badge in my purse. So I was freaking out because I need it to get into the parking lot AND the building. Anyway, I grabbed my coat on the way out the door as an afterthought, because it was already pretty warm out, and good thing I did because about halfway to work, I thought, "Hmm, I wonder if I put my badge in my coat pocket yesterday at work," and wouldn't you know it? I did. Whew. Crisis averted. But then I got an eyelash in my eye! While I was driving! And I couldn't get it out! Because of the driving! It was so dangerous. Don't worry, though, when I got to work, I got it out. With a twisted up corner of a tissue because I AM A GENIUS. Also, that's what my grandma used to do when I'd get an eyelash in my eye when I was little. Which happened a lot for some reason. And she'd come at me with the tissue and I'd freak out like she was trying to get the eyelash out with a machete instead of a tissue. I was a little pussy when I was a kid.

It's true, though, I was totally a little pussy when I was a kid. There is video evidence. I graduated from Safety Village when I was 5. Did you guys have Safety Village? Safety Village was so awesome, you guys, way better than Oregon Trail even. Basically, you learned about traffic lights and how to cross the street safely and I know that sounds boring but this one day they brought in a real life traffic light and put it on a desk and we got to play with it. It was bigger than I am now, I'm pretty sure.

But the best part was the actual SAFETY VILLAGE that was outside on the playground. Like, it was this tiny city with crosswalks and streets and sidewalks and it was all little child sized. AND THERE WERE CARS! Little cars you could drive around the tiny village! I mean, they didn't have little engines, they were like Flintstones cars and you had to propel them forward with your feet but WHO CARES it was still awesome because the difference between me and the Flintstones is that (most of the time) I wear shoes.

Anyway, the video evidence was from my Safety Village graduation, and my mom was recording me looking both ways before crossing the tiny fake streets because that is obviously something you want to document. What if you're at a job interview someday and they're all, "she's great, but can she obey traffic laws?" and then you can be like, "BOOM! Check this shit out, btw, do you have a VCR up in this bitch?" and then they'll hire you in spite of the cursing because you are SO GOOD at looking both ways and that's what this country needs right now! People who can look both ways, not just ONLY left or ONLY right. See what I did there?

OK, now that we've covered how to ace an interview, let's move on. So I finished crossing all the streets in the village and decided to get in one of the little cars. But as I was waiting my turn some other kid raced right in front of me and got in my car! That's when I started crying and my mom was all, "Jenny (cause that's how I spelled my name back then), there's another car right there." I'm a little ashamed that my reaction at that time was to run away crying to my mommy (um, Jennie, you were 5) but I guess it taught me a valuable lesson about standing up for yourself because now if that happened I'd straight up PUNCH THAT LITTLE KID IN THE FACE.