an era is defined as a significant period of time!

It is my long held belief that any life event, big or small, can be related back to Friends. So a few months ago, when Heidi and I decided that we'd both be moving in with BOOOOYYYYS once our lease was up, of course I thought of Monica and Rachel. The parallels are obvious. Monica is a nutso control freak and Rachel is fun and will let you borrow her clothes. I will let you all draw your own conclusions as to who is who.

Heidi and I have lived together for four years now, which blows my mind because the time? Flew by. I know it sounds cliche, but it's true. When we were in college, and it came time for everyone to leave FOREVER, we found it too hard to acknowledge that we were all moving so far away from each other. We reveled in denial and, instead of saying anyone was leaving for good, we simply said they were going to the grocery. They'd totally be right back. It didn't always work and usually ended in tears, but we tried, you know?

So, once again, it's time for Heidi and I to go to the grocery. I'm moving out this Friday.This Friday! It's so soon. I can't really think about it without getting teary which is a problem if I'm, you know, at work. I've lived with quite a few roommates and Heidi is HANDS DOWN the best one I've ever had. Way better than the one I had freshman year, who smelled like an ashtray and used to lock me out so she could have sex with her boyfriend. Heidi will let you borrow her clothes, no questions asked. She'll happily eat cheesecake and cupcakes for dinner with you, and is always ready to watch The Office over a glass of wine. She'll even go with you to meet a stranger from the internet so you don't get axe murdered. And. And! She'll almost always be smiling, no matter how shitty her day was. She has a much better attitude than yours truly and that is a true story.

This is quickly turning into a sapfest, and we can't have that, no we can't, so instead I bring you Heidi and Jennie's Greatest Hits:

On not getting rabies

On (bravely) killing bugs

On books being true (always)

On laughter, the best medicine

On pain

On hot guys, and wasting time

On difficult choices

On roadtrips

On buttsex and Full House

On sickness

On poo

On getting accidentally drunk

On geography

On cooking

On not setting the apartment on fire

On (sister) doin' it for themselves

On engagements

On marriage and Nanomonkeys

On being different, so awfully different

On bags of semen



:-(, you guys, just :-(

STOP. Collaborate and LISTEN.

I sure wish I knew why I've had Ice Ice Baby stuck in my head all morning. Oh well.

The problem with not blogging for HOLY SHIT almost a week (other than my Dad giving me shit for not blogging) is that, by the time I get around to blogging, too much has happened and I don't know where to start. So I just don't write about any of it. No more! I mean, that's really unfair to deprive you of all the details from my every waking hour. And sometimes my non-waking hours. Anyway, this is what I did this weekend:

• went to a going away party for Lampl and Jon
• ate at McAllister's and DRANK SWEET TEA
• tried to play pool
• failed
• drank beers and ate taco dip
• went to the pool
• twice
• went out to dinner
• twice
• went to a cookout
• ate lots of mac and cheese and ribs and broccoli salad
• went to the nature reserve
• did not get eaten by bugs

And, I don't know, other stuff. Memorial Day weekend already seems so long ago. Why is that?

I forgot to tell you guys about this awesome conversation Heidi and I had the other day. It was pretty spectacular. Here is what I remember of it:

Heidi: You know how when we go over the speed bumps in the parking lot, we go sort of between them so only one side of the car goes over them?
Me: Yes.
Heidi: But if there's a car coming from the other direction, we don't do that and we just go over the speed bumps like normal so we don't block the way?
Me: Sure.
Heidi: Well. Remember that girl with the Alaska plates who blocked the dumpster that one time when she was trying to shove a bike in her trunk*?
Me: Yes!
Heidi: Well, I was coming toward a speed bump and she was coming the other way, and she was doing that thing where you go between the speed bumps even though I was there! I had to wait for her to get across.
Me: WTF?
Heidi: I know. It was so rude.
Me: To be fair, she's from Alaska and is used to just driving around igloos.
Heidi: And away from Sarah Palin.
Me: Yeah, because Sarah Palin is shooting at her. From a helicopter.
Heidi: "Oh, look at that moose! I want it for my wall!"
Me: "That sure is a shiny moose!"

Obviously, those last two statements were said in our best Sarah Palin impressions, although my Sarah Palin impression is less a Sarah Palin impression and more a Tina-Fey-as-Sarah-Palin impression, but whatever.

*I hope you have a big trunk . . . cause I'm puttin' my BIKE in it.

tell me again about the rabbits, George

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

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

[in Heidi's brand new, shiny car]

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

And the day before!

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

And SCENE.

crap and cheap wieners

This weekend was grand, it was, the only bad thing being the chilly, chilly weather. And the fact that it ended, of course. They always do, though, so it's not like it was a huge surprise to find myself getting ready for work this morning. It wasn't surprising, oh no, but that doesn't mean I liked it or anything.

It's still rather frigid, but I'm just thankful we didn't get a bunch of snow dumped on us like some other parts of the country. No, that was last year at this time. That was fun, right? No, it was not. It almost ruined Nancy's bachelorette party, but we made the most of it. Also, Mary and I made a snow penis so I can't really say the blizzard was ALL bad.

Heidi and I decided to go to Ikea yesterday because, well, it was Sunday and we had nothing else to do, except maybe watch the America's Next Top Model marathon on Oxygen. It went a little something like this:

Me: I went to some thrift stores yesterday.
Heidi: Yeah?
Me: Yeah. I found some crap. It was awesome.
Heidi: Cool. I like crap.
Me: Me too. We should look for some new crap for our apartment.
Heidi: Yeah, I want to go to that giant thrift store by the Dayton Mall.
Me: I didn't know that was there.
Heidi: It is. I saw a sign on the highway.
Me: We should also go to Ikea.
Heidi: Yes! They have lots of crap!
Me: [watches ANTM]
Heidi: [watches ANTM]
Me: You know. We could just go to Ikea right now.
Heidi: We could!
Me: What else are we going to do?
Heidi: Yeah, we might get bored if we don't go.
Me: So let's go?
Heidi: Yes.

I'm not sure it happened anything like that, but I don't really remember so that's what you get. Anyway, so we went to Ikea and it was magical. I got this. And then I made Joe put it together. I wasn't able to convince him to buy my old desk, though. And then, instead of using my new laptop stand for, you know, my laptop, we played Scrabble on it. It works very well as a Scrabble table, actually. I got some other random crap at Ikea, too, and when I got home I couldn't really remember why I'd gotten it all. That's pretty standard, I think.

The best part about our trip to Ikea was that we got 50 cent wieners from the food area. That's pretty cheap for wieners, in case you were wondering.

and then I fell over

Oh, right, I have a blog. Hi, blog! Sorry I've been neglecting you. The thing is, I don't have time to blog at work and when I say blog at work, of course I mean during my lunch break and not when I'm supposed to be doing actual work. Because I've been spending my lunch break WORKING. Not today, though. Today I spent the first half of my lunch break going to Kroger to get wine and baking sheets (not to use together, though) and now I'm ignoring my phone and email, listening to the Dr. Horrible soundtrack, and BLOGGING. Heh, at first I wrote this: BLOGGIN. Which I think I like better. Anyway.

Heidi got a Wii Fit for Christmas, and last night we hooked it up. Well. Heidi hooked it up. I sat there and watched. To be fair, though, hooking it up meant putting in some batteries and pushing some buttons on the Wii, so I really think I'd have just been in the way if I had tried to help.

The Wii Fit started out by grunting in pain when I stepped on the board. That was nice. And then! It told me I was overweight. Ouch, Wii. That hurts. I mean, it wasn't exactly breaking news or anything, but hearing that I did, in fact, eat too many Christmas cookies and drink too much egg nog (fact: I did not drink any egg nog because . . . gross) was the opposite of fun. I watched Heidi do a balance test and dodge some soccer balls, cleats, and panda heads (what?) and then it was my turn.

Well. I did the balance test and the Wii Fit was all, "WTF? Are you 80? Do you find yourself tripping over stuff a lot?" OK, it really didn't say all that EXCEPT for that last thing BECAUSE IT TOTALLY DID ASK IF I TRIP OVER STUFF. This is when Heidi and Joe almost died laughing FOR REALSIES because the Wii knew how clumsy I am after just one test.

Then. I tried to slalom and it went about as well as it does when I try to for-real ski. I ran into more flags than anything else. Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't fall off the board (although, I did when I tried the step aerobics) and when I finished slaloming (is that a word?), the Wii Fit told me I was unbalanced. Which, duh.

I redeemed myself a bit during the hula hooping, I think. I made it all the way through and spun the shit out of some hula hoops. Sure, a couple hula hoops hit me in the head, but you know . . . baby steps. Anyway, here is something brand new. Conversations Between My Roommate and My Boyfriend:

Heidi and Joe: HAHAHAHAHA JENNIE IS UNBALANCED AND LOOKS FUNNY WHEN SHE HULA HOOPS!
Joe: My favorite part was when the hula hoop hit her in the head.
Heidi: Me too!
Joe: Because I feel like . . . if someone threw a hula hoop at her in real life, that's what would happen.
Heidi: Definitely. I also liked her granny-hula-hooping hand gestures.
Me: Thanks, guys.

Can you feel the love? I can. It's cold and hurty.

A woman shouldn’t have to be hit by a car to learn that she may have rabies.

When I got home from Cleveland on Sunday, our downstairs neighbors (Dan the Man and his daughter) were out on their porch, which is right next to our front door. I noticed something odd as I came up the walkway and that something odd was two baby raccoons. On their porch. Like . . . in a cage.

Me: Um. Are those raccoons?
Daughter: Yep!
Me: Why?
Dan the Man: Well, the mom died so we decided to raise them until we can release them.
Me: Oh. Cool.

Then we had a nice long conversation about how long it takes to raise raccoons and how smart they are and how you can domesticate them and then I got rabies and died.

Oh, wait, that didn't happen. Anyway, I emailed Heidi at work on Monday and was all, "did you know our neighbors are keeping raccoons on the porch?" and she was all, "WHAT?!" and I said, "yes, raccoons . . . on the porch . . . and they are smelly." And then Heidi sacked up and called the apartment complex. Naturally, since I was at my office and Heidi was at her office, I could not hear the conversation, but I was told it went something like this:

Heidi: Hi, I was walking by an apartment and they have raccoons on their porch.
Office Lady: Say that again?
Heidi: They have raccoons on their porch.
Office Lady: On purpose?
Heidi: Yes. In a cage.
Office Lady: Why?
Heidi: I don't know.
Office Lady: Who does that?
Heidi: Our neighbors.
Office Lady: Which apartment are you in?
Heidi: 5699*
Office Lady: Is this Heidi or Jennie?
Heidi: Heidi.
Office Lady: You guys have the weirdest stuff happen to you**.

Then she told Heidi that they'd be gone within a day. And today they are gone. I wish I knew what happened to them. I feel bad because I didn't want them killed or anything, but if anyone in the apartment complex is going to accidentally get infected with rabies, it's gonna be me or Heidi. I mean, we had to take precautions.

*note: not our actual apartment number

**see: broken garbage disposal; upside-down oven knob; broken toilet; broken front door lock

QUACK

It stormed so hard last night (this morning?) that the world ended for a few minutes, but don't worry. It was just for a few minutes, not even five minutes, and nothing really bad happens if the world only ends for a few minutes. True story. And by true I mean I don't have any idea what I'm talking about.

It DID storm so hard that the world ended for a couple of traffic lights this morning. What? You think traffic lights don't know they live in the world? You think they don't have feelings? Well, they do. They go red when they're angry, green when they're happy, and yellow when they're constipated. And YES constipated is a feeling. You think they turn colors for any other reason? You're wrong. Deal with it. There's something really disconcerting about a traffic light being completely dark. Mostly because I don't trust other people to not barrel through the intersection and kill me, kill me dead. No one did, though. But since there were two traffic lights that were out and I was on my way to work, I naturally assumed that my office building wouldn't have power when I got there. Because that's logical. Only not, because my office building totally had power and ALSO they expected me to work. PSHAW.

I wish it had been storming last night when Heidi and I decided to go running. But we had to run, for you see, we had Penn Station for dinner. That was the deal. We could have Penn Station, but we had to run. Right as we started, I was all, "didn't we decide not to run anymore after eating Penn Station because it makes us want to vomit?" and Heidi was all, "um, yeah, oops." Um, yeah, oops, indeed. I felt like vomiting after running about five steps, at which point I wanted to be done for the evening, but running five steps doesn't seem beneficial. Although, if I would just start with a five step run and add five steps to my run every day, that'd probably work better than my current running schedule, which is "run a couple miles four times a month and try not to pass out or throw up or die." Ah, well.

I don't think the run helped our stomachs OR our brains, because during our cool down lap around the pond, this happened:

Heidi: I've counted four tennis balls in the pond so far!
Me: Man, those people aren't very good tennis players.
Heidi: Seriously.
Me: Do you think our pink tennis ball is still down there?
Heidi: I hope so. I hope the ducks play with it.
Me: The ducks play tennis?
Heidi: Yeah, they use their bills as tennis rackets.
Me: Plus, they can fly, so that helps.
Heidi: Wanna know how they serve?
Me: YES.
Heidi: They put the ball in their mouth and just throw it.
Me: Wow. Do the ducks play doubles tennis?
Heidi: Totally. They play against the geese.
Me: The geese! I hope the ducks win, I hate the geese!
Heidi: Of course the ducks win. They're the Mighty Ducks.
Me: Awesome.
Heidi: Nine! I counted NINE tennis balls now!

And then were were all, "quack . . . quack . . . quack . . . QUACK . . . QUACK . . . QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK," only not really, but I wish that'd happened. I mean, I don't think it's possible for our neighbors to think we're any weirder. After all, there was that time we threw a spoon in the pond and Heidi's underwear in a tree. Also, that time I got chased by a zombie.

F-O-X

The greatest thing ever happened to me last night. EVER. It was amazing. After $1 burgers and $2 drafts at Bar Louie last night, Nancy dropped a bombshell. I don't remember what we were talking about, but at some point she nonchalanted, "oh, I bought Rock Band."

We were all HOLD THE PHONE (what?). Nancy bought Rock Band? Nancy bought Rock Band. For Wii. Unfortunately, it was still in the box, but once we got to Nancy's, we made quick work of that. The drums are white for Wii Rock Band, unlike the black drums for XBox (is it XBox?) because Wii is racist. Trust me. Just play Rayman and keep your eye out for all the sleeping Mexicans. I wish I was kidding BUT I'M NOT.

Aaaaaaanyway, once the game was set up and I'd put the game disc in the right way (harder than it sounds), the band tour started, with Heidi on bass. At which point this happened, and made me the happiest girl in all the land:

Heidi: It's not working . . . seriously, why isn't it showing that I hit the right color?
Me: Is the guitar on?
Heidi: Yeah!
Me: I dunno then.
Heidi: IT'S NOT WORKING. WHAT THE HELL? ARRRRRRG!
Nancy: That's weird.
Heidi: I'm hitting the right color, WHY ISN'T IT SHOWING THAT I HIT IT?
Nancy: Um, are you strumming?
Heidi: . . . no?
All: BWAAHAAHAAHAAAA!

Seriously, you guys, I don't think I've ever laughed so hard EVER EVER IN MY LIFE. Ahem. I love you, Heidi.

This morning, when I left for work, I looked in the little patch of grass next to our steps and noticed something odd. Two 40s hanging out together, because apparently I'm back at Wittenberg. I think some college kids moved into the apartment next to us. This annoys me. Now that I'm not longer in college, I find most college students and the activities they participate in to be extremely annoying. I'm all, "you kids get off my lawn!" You know. Stuff like that. It's not that I no longer like to go out and act all crazy (see: Thanksgiving Miracle, Philadelphia, St. Patrick's Day, every trip to Chicago ever, tonight's bachelorette party (probably)), it's just that the times I do go out act like a booze-soaked psychopath are few and far between. Not because I don't like to drink anymore (heh), but because I'd rather sit at home in my pajamas and drink while watching a movie or playing Wii or whatever. I'm simple. I don't like wearing real pants, what can I say?

I don't know where I was going with that. Let's move on, shall we?

I went running the other night for the first time in like a week, because I SUCK, and as I was running, I noticed a little girl tottering down the driveway a few houses in front of me. She was about two or three (I don't know), and as she walked onto the sidewalk, going the same direction I was running, her mom, about 87 months pregnant, waddled after her.

Waddler: Come back, sweetie!
Runaway Girl: Heeheeheehee!

I kept running and eventually caught up to the little girl.

Runaway: Hi!
Me: Hello!
Runaway: Hi!
Me: . . . hi!
Runaway: I'm going to run with you.
Me: OK!

So then she started running after me. Away from her mother. This child was chasing me! CHASING ME! What if it followed me home and never left? I think that's how it happens. So, when I noticed she wasn't stopping and that her mother couldn't really run after her, I turned around and ran back toward her house.

Me: Let's run this way now!
Runaway: OK!
Me: Good job! Keep going!
Runaway: Hi, mommy!

And that's when her mom grabbed her and the runaway started crying. I totally tricked her, which is sort of comforting because sometimes I get worried that I might be stupider than a toddler.

nobody ever told her it's the wrong way

Last night, a while after Heidi had gone to get her manicure (I was invited, but (and I know this will surprise you) I decided not to go), my phone rang.

Heidi: Hi.
Me: Hi.
Heidi: Do you want meet us at Bar Louie?
Me: Bar Louie?
Heidi: Yeah, we're gonna get dinner and drinks.
Me: Awesome, I'll be right up.

And up I went, because not only had I written my 300 words for the day, but I'd ALSO written an article. I mean, I would have gone up there anyway, but I felt far less guilty since I'd actually done some work. And you guys? If you thought the 123 GoBox was good, just HOLD ONTO YOUR MINDS BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO BLOW THEM. Wow, that is like the poorest choice of words EVER and you'd think I'd delete them and write something else but YOU'D BE WRONG. Get used to it. Um, right. So, Bar Louie was having a special. One. Dollar. Hamburgers. And not like those pussy, little sliders from White Castle, either. Real-sized hamburgers. The toppings all cost like 50 cents extra but who cares? The hamburger (plus bun) was only $1. Which made up for the fact that our beers cost $6. But whatever, who cares, that beer was delicious.

I have no idea what my point is, except that if your friends call and ask if you want to come to the bar, you always say yes. Because you will be rewarded in hamburgers. Cheap, delicious hamburgers.

Also, beer.

It’s so watery. And yet there’s a smack of ham to it.

Yesterday afternoon, while I was sitting around at work, waiting for someone to tell me I could go home early, I opened Google Reader to find that Kat had shared a recipe.

Sidenote: if that sentence didn't make sense, it's because you're not using Google Reader and if you're not using Google Reader, I have to ask, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

Anyway, this is the recipe: Wiener Water Soup. Yes, you read that correctly. Wiener Water Soup. It gets even funnier when you read the ingredients:

1 pkg. wieners
3 c. water

And it gets even FUNNIER when you read the instructions:

Combine wieners and water in a two quart saucepan. Bring to a boil until wieners are cooked. Throw the wieners in the garbage. Serve soup. Serves 3.

You guys, I'm not kidding, when I read this, I had to take a moment. I laughed so hard, I was crying and I was terrified, TERRIFIED, that someone would walk past my office, because I had my head down on my desk and I was clutching my stomach because OH, THE LAUGHTER, IT HURTS! Even now, as I sit here by myself on the sofa, I am laughing SO HARD. Every time I think of it, I start laughing. WIENER WATER SOUP. Something about the combination of those words makes me LOSE MY FREAKING MIND. AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Ahem. I'm going to try to compose myself. So, soon after the Wiener Water Soup (HAHAHAHAHA) episode, someone came around and was all, "you guys can leave at 4," and that's all I needed to hear. I called Heidi on my way out, because I am an asshole who likes to rub my good fortune RIGHT IN YOUR FACE. We talked a while about the Wiener Water Soup, but the topic soon shifted quite a bit:

Me: I have to go pick up my anti-baby pills.
Heidi: Yeah, that's important.
Me: Do you think if I talked to the doctor, she'd give me a hysterectomy?
Heidi: Um, no, I don't think if you talked to the doctor, she'd give you a hysterectomy.
Me: Fine, then I'll go get one in Mexico.
Heidi: Good idea. But what happens in ten years when you decide you want kids?
Me: Ew. And anyway, I'll just freeze some eggs.
Heidi: OK. Are you just gonna go down there and be like, "hey, you on the side of the road, are you a doctor?"
Me: Yes. As long as he has a van.
Heidi: Hahaha.
Me: "His van was so clean!"
Heidi: "He used Purell!"
Me: "And I saw him wash his hands, WHAT MORE DO I NEED?"
Heidi: This is foolproof.
Me: Indeed. On that note, I'm gonna go.

True story. Only I probably won't go to Mexico to get a hysterectomy. Because, duh, I'd go to Canada.

Don’t hurt that bat, Creed! It’s a living thing with feelings and a family!

Last night, after a lovely (but spicy) dinner at Chipotle, I came home and decided to write articles for the rest of the evening. Then I looked at my bed and thought, "I should change my sheets." And then changing my sheets led to starting some laundry and that led to putting my pajamas on (I don't know) and THAT led to watching TV with Heidi. I don't know how these things happen, they just do. After TV, I was all, "I'm going to go to my room," and that's when I saw IT. On the wall, right outside my bedroom door. A giant bug that had a million legs. A MILLION.

Now. I'm OK with most bugs. I usually let spiders live if I see one in the apartment (because spiders eat bugs) and if I see any other bugs, I smoosh the crap out of them with a tissue. And then I flush them down the toilet just in case they're zombie bugs and they're going to come back to life. One time, at my old apartment, Phoebe killed a cricket (while I freaked out and cowered on the couch . . . from a cricket . . . not my proudest moment) and I ran it down the garbage disposal.

But, you guys? This bug was monstrous and creepy. Did I mention all the legs? Bugs with millions of legs freak me out. OK, Google tells me that this bug was a common house centipede, but WHATEVER, Google, you didn't see it! Ahem. So, I clutched the wall and stared at the bug and said, "Heidi! COME HERE THERE'S A BUG OH MY GOD," and she was all, "OH MY GOD WHAT IS IT?" and I was like, "I DON'T KNOW I NEED A SHOE GIVE ME A SHOE SO I CAN SMASH IT!" and she was like, "We need a stick! A long stick!" and I was all, "that's what she said!" only not really, really I said, "GET. ME. A. SHOE!" Because I couldn't go in my ROOM to get one of MY shoes because THE BUG WAS RIGHT NEXT TO MY DOOR AND WHAT IF IT ATTACKED ME AS I WALKED BY AHHHHH!

So, Heidi picked up one of her (brand new) running shoes. I said, "Are you sure you don't want me to use an old shoe?" She looked at the shoe and then looked at me and then looked back at the shoe and said, "I'll get an old shoe." She gave me an old ballet flat, when what I really wanted was a giant combat boot. Something with some weight to it, you know? But I took the ballet flat and I crouched next to the bug.

Me: Oh my god.
Heidi: Smash it!
Me: Oh my god oh my god oh my god.
Heidi: Do you want me to do it?
Me: No . . . I'll do it.

And then I SMASHED the shoe into the wall! And missed! And the bug ran behind the hallway mirror!

[cue loud, girlish screaming]

Me: I MISSED!
Heidi: WHERE IS IT? IS IT ON THE SHOE? IT'S ON THE SHOE!
Me: IT'S NOT ON THE SHOE! [looks at shoe in horror] IT'S NOT ON THE SHOE, it's behind the mirror.

So I walked closer to the mirror and waited. And waited. And then it came out! And I smashed it! And I missed again! AND THEN, YOU GUYS, IT RAN INTO MY ROOM!

Heidi: It ran in your room!
Me: I KNOW!
Heidi: GET IT, GET IT!

I went in my room and started stabbing the bug with the toe of the shoe.

Me: DIE, BUG, DIE DIE DIE!
Heidi: Is it dead?
Me: AHHHHHH!!
Heidi: Is it dead?
Me: WHY. WON'T. IT. DIE???
Heidi: Is it dead?
Me: . . .
Heidi: Is it dead?
Me: Yeah.
Heidi: I'll get the vacuum and you can sweep it up.
Me: Good idea.

So the bug is now inside our vacuum. Hopefully it's dead. Otherwise, I'm afraid it'll attack me the next time I empty the vacuum cleaner. I feel a lot closer to Heidi now. Like we've been through battle together. Because that WAS a battle and don't you argue because YOU WEREN'T THERE. You didn't see the evil look on that nefarious bug's face.

(To be continued? DUN DUN DUUUUUUUN!)

Children cannot lie. They are innocent, and they speak the truth. And out of the mouths of babes, Michael Scott is freaking cool.

Today, as I mentioned, is Take Your Child to Work Day, and so there are adorable children wandering the halls. I ran into one of them, a charming little four-year-old named Dora (not her real name), who was on her way to another department with her dad.

"Look!" she said and held up a box of Timbits. "I'm taking these to my co-workers!"

And then I was all, "ow, my ovaries," and also, "I'm so going to steal you later." Later she told us all about how her dad has a Storm Trooper costume (true story: he wore it for Halloween and it was all kinds of awesome) and ALSO that sometimes he beatboxes at home. They left before I could ask him to demonstrate.

DRAMATIC SUBJECT CHANGE

A couple days ago, I had the following conversation with my parents.

Me: Oh! Heidi and I are running a race again. Will you guys come watch us this time?
Mom: I don't know, IS IT ON THANKSGIVING again?
Me: No. And it's not at 8 in the morning, it's at noon.
Dad: Where?
Me: . . . Columbus.
Dad: Jennie . . .
Me: It's at noon!
Mom: What day is it?
Me: May 25th. A Sunday, I think.
Dad: You can't do that.
Me: Um. Why?
Dad: That's your grandmother's 70th birthday party?
Me: Who-to-the-what-now?
Mom: I told you about this.
Me: You did not!
Mom: I did. I told you to leave that day open.
Me: This is the first I've heard about it!
Dad: Your mom told me she told you.
Me: Well, she didn't.
Mom: I did.
Me: Nuh-uh! I'm always the last to know EVERYTHING. [cue four-year-old-style tantrum]

Anyway, NO ONE EVER TOLD ME. Until like two days later, my aunt called and told me about it. Whatever. THEN! This morning, I found out that not only is my cousin in Kuwait, on his way to Iraq (making him the second person to leave for Iraq WITHOUT TELLING ME), but apparently his mom (my aunt, duh) is having some sort of surgery. No idea what kind, just surgery. At least this time, I'm barely the last to know, because my mom just found out, too. Somehow, that doesn't make me feel better. In any case, I'm going to change the subject now.

When I got my laptop, Heidi was really excited. I believe her exact words were, "now we can sit on the sofa with our laptops and work and it'll be just like we're in school again!"

So last night we were sitting on the sofa working. Well, "working." I don't know what she was doing, but I was playing Free Rice. As research, though, because I'm writing an article called, "How to Help Africa," which I realize is a very, very broad subject and I'll probably do a terrible job, but I'm using Free Rice as a source. Because playing Free Rice means some rice might be sent to Africa, and I think you'll agree that Rice + Africa = Helping Africa. Math!

Anyway, while we were sitting there, I thought, "heehee, I will message her on Google Talk and it will be hilarious because we are sitting next to each other." So I did. And we had the following conversation:

Me: butt
Heidi: erection
Me: phalanges
Heidi: penis
Me: vas deferens
Heidi: moist
Me: panties
Heidi: bajenga

So it really is like we're back in school. Only not college. More like 4th grade. Except I don't think I knew what "vas deferens" meant in 4th grade.

heartache to heartache, we stand

I think I come across as a pretty laid back person, but the truth is, no matter what time of day it is, something is going on that I am silently freaking out about. It could be something as simple as what to have for dinner or something big like, you know, what the hell I'm doing with my life. I've come to the conclusion that if I didn't have something to worry about 24 hours of the day, I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

Sometimes, dear Internets, I have so much to tell you. Nothing important, mind you, because to be honest? I don't really talk about the important stuff on here. Because A) I'm not good at talking about feelings (yuck), B) I'm already silently freaking out about it (see above), so I don't want to talk about it too, and C) mind your business! Hee. But mundane stuff? I tell you all of it. You're so lucky. Sometimes I have to stop myself from posting like 18 times a day because HELLO that's a little Crazy McPsycho right there. I have no idea where I'm going with this. Is it obvious? Moving on.

Since it's gotten warmer, I've taken to driving around with my windows down (naturally). The problem with this is I forget the windows are down. Which means, when a song I really like comes on the radio, I start singing it as loudly as possible and I'm just not sure, but I don't think the people in the next car really want to hear my version of Love Is a Battlefield.

BECAUSE it's gotten warmer, Heidi and I have been running more. I don't know if you know this, but it's a lot nicer to run when it's sunny and warm and you don't have to dodge patches of ice every five feet. In any case . . . Conversations With My Roommate: Running Edition!

Day 1:

Me: I have to pee.
Heidi: Um. There's a bush over there.
Me: I'll wait. I don't want to wipe with a pinecone.
Heidi: Yeah, that would hurt.
Me: Are pinecones made out of wood?
Heidi: I think so. They look like wood.
Me: Or are they made out of some wood/leaf hybrid?
Heidi: I don't know.
Me: I'm going ask Google when we get home.
Heidi: OK. Let me know what you find out.

Day 2:

Me: Oh man, I forgot to Google pinecones!
Heidi: I was going to ask you.
Me: Don't let me forget later.
Heidi: OK.
Me: Can you eat dandelions? Or are they poisonous?
Heidi: Poisonous.
Me: Do you know that for sure?
Heidi: Not really.
Me: Well, because there's this Ray Bradbury story?
Heidi: . . . go on.
Me: Called Dandelion Wine?
Heidi: . . .
Me: And the boy in the story? His grandfather makes dandelion wine.
Heidi: . . .
Me: So I don't think dandelions are poisonous.
Heidi: You realize that not everything you read in a book is true, right?
Me: I can't believe you just said that.
Heidi: Is this book in the fiction section or the non-fiction section?
Me: . . .
Heidi: I rest my case.
Me: Just . . . stop.

Day 3 (confession: this was not while running):

Me: So apparently birds don't have penises.
Heidi: Oh yeah?
Me: Yeah. Tamara said they have these winky butthole things that they just rub together to fertilize stuff.
Heidi: So. Birds don't have penises.
Me: Nope.
Heidi: So your book was wrong?
Me: . . . well, yes. But that doesn't mean anything.
Heidi: What was the other thing you were trying to tell me?
Me: That you can make wine out of dandelions?
Heidi: Yeah.
Me: That's true!
Heidi: OK.
Me: It is! That book is semi-autobiographical!
Heidi: Uh-huh.
Me: I'll prove it. I'm going to make some dandelion wine!
Heidi: You do that.
Me: And you will drink it and you will be SO. DRUNK.
Heidi: I look forward to it.
Me [muttering]: Just you wait.

I'm beginning to think one of the reasons Heidi and I make such good roommates is because we both think the stupidest things are funny. Like, we made a fake Mii on Wii (wow) named Gladys. She has a pig nose and a side half-ponytail and jowls. Heidi bowled as Gladys the other night, left-handed no less, and kicked my ass. Then we had Gladys take the fitness test to see how old we could make her. She ended up being 80 and Heidi and I laughed and laughed until we couldn't breathe. During the test, we made up a fake history for Gladys, like that she enjoys hanging out at the bowling alley every night, and she's a smoker, and she's not afraid to share bowling shoes with her closest bowling alley friends, and the REASON she wasn't very good at tennis is because, hello, she's 80. And a smoker. I keep telling Heidi we should really think about taking our comedy act on the road, but I'm pretty sure we'd be the only ones laughing.

PS: Have you hugged the Earth today?

I can ride my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars, no handlebars

I'm taking a break from article writing. Normally, I'd just, you know, not write any articles before taking a break, but today I've already written TWO. I know. Who am I? The thing is, they weren't exactly mentally taxing. One of them was "How to Play Beer Pong Overtime," which . . . yeah, doesn't require that many brain cells.

It finally got warm enough to turn the heat off, but I think I've gotten a little overzealous with the windows. Just because it's semi-warm outside does not mean I need to open every window in the apartment, and yet . . . that's what I keep doing. And then suddenly it's like 10 degrees in the apartment and I have to crawl under my comforter to get warm. This story has no point, really. I'm just typing.

At dinner last night, I told Heidi that when I'm in a restaurant, I like to make up stories for each of the waiters and waitresses. I know the stories I come up with aren't accurate, but I like to pretend they are. It's just that I want to know which employees are secretly in love and which ones are strippers on the side and which ones bang in the storage room when their shifts are over.

Conversations With My Roommate!

Heidi: Um, they just put their baby carrier on the floor. And there's a baby in it.
Me: Is that allowed?
Heidi: I don't think so.
Me: Eh, just slide it under the table out of the way.

And then, you guys? This baby at the next table puked all over the place. I was all, "Heidi, don't turn around," but she did. Luckily, I am immune to sympathy puking because this one time when I was babysitting, the kid I was watching puked in a bucket while he was sitting on my lap. I think he got some puke on my pants. You see? This is why I maintain that the most effective method of birth control when you're a teenager is babysitting.

So I've pretty much given up on trying to make this post make sense at all. Could you tell? Meh, whatever, let's keep going, shall we?

Conversation With My Roommate From Like An Hour Ago:

Me: Hey! The birds are back on the porch, maybe they'll do it again.
Heidi: I hope so.
Me: Watch as the male bird's feathers get all big and fluffy.
Heidi: And the female just sits there like, "will you get on with it already?"
Me: Seriously, she's got stuff to do. She can't wait around all day for his tiny bird penis.
Heidi: She's busy.
Me: Did you know that birds keep their bird penises tucked up inside their bird bodies until they use them?
Heidi: Really?
Me: Yes, it's so they're more aerodynamic when they're flying.
Heidi: Are you making this up?
Me: I don't think so, I read it in a book once.

I could go Google it, I guess, but I'm pretty sure it's true. Even though the book I read it in was a VC Andrews book. Which I read when I was like 12. Why I was allowed to read these books at ANY age, I have no idea. Um. Anyway. Happy Sunday.

today will be better, I swear

There's this lady at work who, every Friday, stops by my office to ask what I'm doing that weekend. She must think I live this super exciting life because she calls me "the social butterfly" of the office. I don't know what they all think I'm doing. I mean, yeah, sometimes I have something fun and exciting to tell them about, like a concert or a date or a trip to Dinosaur World (true story), but like . . . last night? Heidi and I went running and then managed to eat dinner AND go to Target to buy a nunchuck (a Wii nunchuck, not a ninja nunchuck, although that would have been awesome) AND we went to Meijer to look for this flavored beer we had at Nancy's last weekend AND then we went home to play Wii. Then. Oh, then, Internets, my parents called and asked if they could stop by with some friends. Which is how our living room ended up with six adults in it, trying to bowl without breaking anything or hitting anyone in the face. I know it's really sad that my parents came over to find us hanging out in our apartment on a Friday playing Wii with each other (hahaha) but THIS IS MY LIFE and I will not be ashamed.

When they left, Heidi and I tried to play this cracked-out rabbit game, and we were doing pretty well until it came time to throw cows (yeah, I know), and we had to give up because our arms got tired. You try throwing a cow 147 feet. It's tiring. Then Dwight Schrute and Jim Halpert played tennis together. I think they had fun.

At the beginning of our run yesterday (I call it "walking"), this little old lady in a scooter was coming down the sidewalk and Heidi was all, "she's going to run us over," and I said, "no, she's not, she's nice," and Heidi said, "nuh-uh, she's jealous that we have legs that work," and I said, "WOW, you are going to Hell." And then the little old lady stopped us to ask if we'd tell her how much battery power her scooter had left. We told her she had plenty and she kept going. Once she was gone, I said, "ha, it would have been funny if she didn't have any battery power left and we told her she was fine, and then she ran out," so maybe I'm going to Hell, too. Because LATER at Target, this little boy in Crocs (sigh) was running around the movie section playing with his ball (like, a bouncy ball, not one of the balls in his pants) and then he fell down.

I turned to Heidi and was all, "I have special powers. I wished for it to fall down and it fell down!" and she was like, "what fell down?" and I said, "the baby!" and why do I keep calling babies "it?" Anyway. Now seems like a good time to stop talking.

you shook me all night long*

So apparently there was an earthquake this morning? I got to work and someone was all, "did you feel the earthquake?" and I said, " . . . huh?" I'm not so eloquent first thing in the morning, you see. But I guess around 5:30 this morning, while I was sleeping, the earth moved. I still find it hard to believe, because I'm a really light sleeper (seriously, I will wake up if you even think about looking at me), and I felt nothing. It's all anyone will talk about today, which makes sense because, I don't know if you know this**, but we don't really get that many earthquakes in Ohio. I think they suspected we might get one when I was in like 3rd grade, because I vaguely remember having earthquake drills where we got to hide under our desk. They were either earthquake drills or bomb drills, I don't know. This was during the war in Iraq (you know, the first one), so it really could have been either.

Last night, when I got home from work, the spirit of Monica Geller inhabited my body and I raced around the apartment, cleaning like a madwoman. I don't know why, but don't worry. This burst of productivity only lasted until Heidi got home and we decided to get Papa Murphy's for dinner. Then we watched A LOT of TV. Like . . . a lot. And drank wine. But not a lot of wine. A normal amount. Wow, Jennie, good story. Um. How about a Conversation With My Roommate? A short one, though, because I'm sleepy.

Me: TiVo, PAUSED. I have to pee.
Heidi: OK. Do you want more wine?
Me: Do you have to ask?
Heidi: True.
Me: That's like asking a woodpecker if he wants to peck some more wood.
Heidi: Nice.
Me: Thanks.

*lame
**but I'm KIND OF a big deal

Charlie Bucket was the luckiest boy in the entire world. He just didn't know it yet.

I give up. Every Sunday night I try to go to bed at a (somewhat) reasonable hour, and every Sunday night I lie there, staring at the ceiling and wishing I was asleep. Last night, I tried so hard, you guys! That's a lie. I was watching Willy Wonka (the new one) on TV. Even though I prefer the old one, that doesn't mean I'm gonna just TURN OFF THE TV when there are Oompa Loompa shenanigans to watch. That's crazy talk.

Hey! How about a Conversation With My Roommate? Sound good? I don't care!

Me: Why are there starving Africans on the front of the coupons this week?
Heidi: They're not starving, they're drinking Pur water.
Me: I didn't realize starving Africans were so into name brands.
Heidi: Duh. Anyway, those aren't starving Africans. That baby is Angelina Jolie's kid.
Me: WOW. I can't talk to you anymore.

LATER

Heidi: Guess what I watched earlier?
Me: What?
Heidi: The Prince and Me.
Me: . . .
Heidi: 2.
Me: Oh my god.
Heidi: I know.
Me: It was bad enough before you added the 2.
Heidi: Yeah, well.
Me: It's OK, I watched part of The Cutting Edge 3 the other day.
Heidi: Wow.
Me: I know.

I forgot to tell you guys this, and I can't believe I did because it was HILARIOUS. Saturday night, we were standing outside (next to a sex shop, no less), waiting to get into Bogarts and this guy was going down the line asking for change. He's not important, though. I'm not sure why I even told you about him. Forget I said anything. Anyway, there was another guy in a wheelchair and he has a sign that said, "Give me some change or I'll kick you in the face," and at first I was like, "well, that's rude," but it turns out he didn't have any legs.

And now for some sad news. Remember a long time ago when I bought all that crap at Target that had The Office all over it? Here. Let me show you it. Well. They frisked us as we went into Bogarts (I felt violated) and then this lady went through my purse. She found a pen and she was like, "you can take this back to your car or we can throw it away." At first I was all, "throw it away," but then I saw it was my Michael Scott pen and I had to think about it. In the end, I told her to throw it away because the car was far away and I just wanted to go inside and get a beer and see Spoon. I cried a little. On the inside, though, where no one can see your tears. Apparently you can use a pen as a weapon, I guess, which I wasn't aware of. Until this (tall) douchebag in front of me started dancing around bumping into people and then I realized if I had my pen I probably would have stabbed him in the neck. So really that lady who threw my pen away saved me from 7-10 years in prison. Thanks, lady.

today (so far) in email

1. Sharks and

My mom sent me a forward this morning about this family that went on vacation in Australia. The mom, dad, and son all go scuba diving and right as the son is taking a picture of his loving parents, he FREAKS OUT and swims as fast as his little body can carry him back to the boat. His parents follow him because they're all, "wtf, why is our kid such a crybaby loser?" and he's like, "whatever, parents, there was a giant shark behind you!" And they don't believe him (because kids = liars) but when they get the pictures developed they see THIS:



And my mom called me a party pooper just because I looked it up on Snopes and told her it wasn't true. I said, "WHATEVER, if you want to go around believing false information, go ahead, but it feels much better to be right." And then she told me I was starting to sound like my dad and to be careful. Meh.

2. Eggs and

Around 8:30 this morning, a company-wide e-mail went out. It said something to the effect of: Hey, suckers. There are a dozen Easter eggs hidden around the building. Whoever is willing to degrade themselves by running around like a 5-year-old wins $20 if they find an egg.

And since, of course, I will degrade myself for a lot less than $20, I immediately jumped up and ran out of my office. I wasn't the only one, though. Everyone else poured out of their offices and for every step closer they got to an egg, they shed about 2 - 5 years (math). Luckily, I found an egg by the water cooler as soon as I walked into the hallway, but other people were reduced to sprinting down the hall and stairs just to win their $20. Yay! I am $20 richer. Also, I got to keep the egg so . . . SCORE, I guess.

3. Books (oh my!)

Last night, I finished the book I was (re)reading. Because I am bossy and like to tell people which books to read, I emailed Heidi and was all, "I finished this really good book I think you'd like, so you should read it. It's called The Girl's Guide to Hunting and Fishing (it's not about hunting or fishing.)"

I know I read this book years ago, but I'd forgotten most of it. Actually, I think what I did was banish it to the deepest recesses of my brain, because the whole time I was reading it, I kept thinking, "this girl is me, oh dear god." I don't really enjoy that kind of self-awareness.

And when I read this, which someone says (sort of) to the main character: Making jokes is your way of saying "Do you love me?" and when someone laughs you think they've said yes.

I had to put the book down for a minute because WHOA never in my life has a book known me so well.

Your dentist’s name is Crentist?

Yesterday, Heidi went to the dentist for the first time. Not the first time ever, because . . . gross. But for the first time with this dentist. This particular dentist is also my dentist and he has known me since I was but a wee, little girl with wee, little teeth. He is the best dentist ever in the history of the world. Anyway, I emailed Heidi IMMEDIATELY to see how it went, because . . . work is boring? Yes, it is. And now! Conversations with my Roommate! Email edition!

Me: How was the dentist?

Heidi: The dentist was magical . . . you are a legend there. They all thought you were sweet and nice?!?! Wow, you have them fooled! I have to go back to have my jaw checked out. It clicks and pops when I chew so I have to have something made for my mouth.

Me: I am sweet and nice! Maybe your jaw wouldn’t click and pop if you’d stop with all the BJs.

Heidi: Haha, but I just can't stop!

Me: I understand. That's how I feel about crack.

Anyway, so I'm pretty sure I proved Heidi's point.

These are my awards, Mother. From Army. The seal is for marksmanship, and the gorilla is for sand racing.

Last night, while I was playing Scrabble writing articles, my phone rang! I know! People call me! And sometimes I answer! Anyway, it was Heidi, so I answered, even though I was all, "WTF is she doing calling me from vacation? Shouldn't she be knee deep in cabana boys right now? Do they have cabana boys in Vegas? What's a cabana anyway?" and then I noticed that it was almost 9.

I answered all, "don't worry, I'm recording Big Brother." No hello or anything because Heidi and I have progressed past hellos. They are unnecessary. Superfluous, if you will, sort of like this sentence. After we'd discussed the importance of recording Big Brother, she asked how the weather was here and I tried to put a positive spin on it, but how do you put a positive spin on, "it's icy and snowy and pissing tiny ice cubes?" You don't. I hope she'll forgive me for not asking how the weather was in Vegas, but I thought if I heard her talking about the sun and the warmth I'd crush her face through the phone with the sheer force of my jealousy. And I don't want to crush her face because she needs it, for talking and picking up men and stuff. Finally, I let her go because she had to rest so she could be energized for all the drinking and partying she had scheduled later and now I bring you the shortest Conversation With My Roommate EVER:

Me: OK, bye. Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do.
Heidi: Oooh, so it's wide open, then.
Me: Exactly.

_____

Today on The Collective, Kat says "seamen." Hee.