just because

bend me, break me, anyway you need me, all I want is you

A bit of fiction. You would think that after answering all those questions, I'd be too tired to write more, because writing is hard, y'all (I'm still all Nashville . . . sorry).

I never bit my nails before I met you. I didn't have any nervous habits. A month after knowing you, and my nails were completely ragged. You did that to me.

You said you wanted to know me. You wanted to know things no one had ever bothered to ask me before. We played twenty questions, sitting in the middle of my bed, my laptop between us. We'd been trying to figure out what movie to see but twenty questions proved more interesting than anything in the theaters. That's when I discovered you had once shaved the family dog and blamed it on your brother. That you'd never been in love. That's when I told you that the saddest day of my life was not the day my father died, but the day after, my first full day in that fatherless void.

You said you wanted to know me, and you did, despite all the times I tried to hide pieces of myself in vague remarks and sarcastic answers to your serious questions. I'd say you knew me better than I knew myself, but that's a cliche and you hated cliches.

I never bit my nails before I met you. You said you wanted to know me and I was afraid. We played twenty questions, you and I, for thirteen months. Your favorite band was Oasis. Your favorite ice cream was strawberry. You once went bungee jumping off the side of a bridge and kept your eyes closed the entire time. Maybe it was that answer that made me realize you'd never chew your nails to the quick for me. Or maybe thirteen was just our unlucky number. What a cliche.

what's the story, morning glory

Heather Anne asked me some questions! Yay, questions!

1) Which Hogwarts house would you be sorted into?

I would hope Gryffindor because I'd be all, "Ooh, put me in Oliver Wood's house!" because I get crushes on fictional characters, you see. But according to this test I'm Ravenclaw, because I am intelligent, witty, and capable (hold your laughter, please). Eh, who am I to argue?

2) If you had to wear a button with a maximum of 5 words on it describing your outlook on life, what would your button say?

"Eat, Drink, and Be Merry." Or maybe just "Drink and Be Merry." Actually, just "Drink" would suffice.

OK, for serious? Last summer, our motto was "No Regrets," something I've been trying to continue. Basically, if I'm faced with making a decision, I think, "will I regret not doing this?" and if the answer is yes, then I do it. It's very simple and quite easy to remember, actually, and best of all has been working out fairly well so far. Anyway, our motto for this summer is "I don't even know," which is still under five words. Can I have three buttons, Heather Anne?

3) Fill in the blank: I am so much smarter than _____________ .

"I used to be." Which, considering some of the stupid shit I do and say, is really very scary.

4) If you could punch one person in the face without getting in trouble, who would you punch?

Ooh, ooh, Dubya! Or this guy. Or this guy. Or basically anyone on this network, really.

5) Do you masturbate on long trips? Or do you know anyone who masturbates on long trips?

Heehee! OK, here's the thing. No, I don't. But YES, I do happen to know someone who does. How weird is that? I mean, I kind of know him. He's not like a close friend or anything, but he says he does it on long car trips (when he's by himself, I'm assuming). Seems dangerous to me, but whatever. Actually, when I found out about this I started polling people (Heather Anne being one of the lucky ones) and asking them if anyone they know does this. So far, I haven't run across any other people who masturbate on long trips. I'm kind of happy about this, really.

If anyone else feels like asking anything, I'm feeling very truthful today so I might actually answer without lying. Much. I know we've played this game before, but it's totally fun, right? Right.

My fellow nerds and I will retire to the nerdery with our calculators.

Earlier this morning, Heidi threatened to punch me in the babymaker because I told her I was declaring it WORST. DAY. EVER. Week again and she said she couldn't deal with me being mopey and "woe is me." But I'm mostly just declaring it WORST. DAY. EVER. Week because my uterus is starting a revolution and I'm pretty sure the ovaries and fallopian tubes are thinking about joining, so I really hope Heidi does NOT punch me in the babymaker because my babymaker? Already hurts.

Anyway, not the point. Today I am here to tell you all about Nashville because I'll bet y'all (I learned that there) are just DYING to know. When Nancy and I left on Friday, it was a beautiful spring day that quickly turned rainy and shitty as we drove south. But the fact that we gained an hour made up for it. I love gaining hours! More time to waste! Whahoo! Everyone else was picking people up at the airport when Nancy and I got to the hotel, so we changed and displayed the penis cake in the best light possible.

Oh my god, this is so boring, I cannot continue. Just . . . here is a list of stuff that happened and stuff that was said. Please remember that you are hearing the stuff that was said completely out of context. Not that it would have made a whole lot more sense in context, but whatever.

• Bridal shower - no games (!!!), delicious food, I accidentally drank half of a bottle of wine (oops)
• Back to the hotel to change and then shopping, although I didn't buy anything
• At the shoe store, Mary, Katie, and I took pictures of ourselves wearing HIDEOUS HIDEOUS CROCS
• "Help me follow her! It's hard when you only have one eye!"
• We brought the sexy back every time we got in the car . . . sometimes twice
• "Have I mentioned I love Justin Timberlake?"
• Dinner at the Bound'ry. SO GOOD. Also! They played the entire Amy Winehouse CD while we were there!
• Irish pub - drank cider, listened to the band, played I Never, even though we all already know everything anyway
• I invented the term "sexual repertoire" and no, I will not tell you the conversation that led up to THAT
• "You can't be naked in Ohio without alcohol!"
• "What's the name of that movie? Batman Retires?"
• Mary and I made friends with some German guys. They told us they were from Germany and the first words out of my mouth were, "No, you're not!"
• I slept in a chair because all the beds were taken. My neck still hurts.
• The next day at lunch, Mary and I were oversharing until Nancy told us to stop because she kept hearing bits and pieces of our conversation and she was trying to eat.

OK, and this was the best part and gets more than a bullet because it is SO paragraph-worthy. On the way home, Nancy and I stopped . . . at DINOSAUR WORLD.

We had seen it on our way to Nashville on Friday and vowed to stop on our way back to Ohio. I am so glad we did. You guys! There were dinosaurs everywhere! Not real ones, unfortunately, but statues. Lots of statues. Even baby dinosaur statues! Of course, I wanted to get my picture taken on top of one of them, but unfortunately there were signs up that said "Please do not sit on the dinosaurs." See:
Well, OK, you can't really see it but that's what it said. Luckily, there was a playground, so I could do this:ROOOOOAAAAAARRRRRR!

Alright. I'm gonna go now. Nerd, out.

Dear you guys,

I'm still pretty tired from Nashville, so instead of writing anything, here is some spam I received while I was gone:

To: me
From: Irusik N
Subject: hello and smiles, dear

Hi, my friend

I believe that you are my soul mate and I am even more confident that you are kind, bright, well-behaved person with wonderful manners and polite sense of humor. Indeed I am a wise lady and I will not stand living with a fool or a cry-baby. I know that I am worth thousands of women; my intelligence is far more advanced than it is of an average lady my age; my sexuality is million times stronger than it is of a young, inexperienced girls. I am worth a fortune and I am happy for you, because from now on you can write to me at http://inetfeelings.com/reliability and we will learn each other better. You will never regret that you've finally met me!

Later
Irusik

I have to admit, I was a bit surprised to find out my soulmate is a woman. Although, going by the second part of that first sentence, I'm not sure I trust Irusik's judgement. She obviously doesn't know me very well, and if your soulmate doesn't know you, who does? WHO?

Anyway, lot of stuff happened this weekend but until I get around to remembering all of it, here is a taste (so to speak):

Also this:

Yeah.

It was never my intention to ruin a life. But you know what? Sometimes, you just gots to get your freak on.

So, I was going to write this elaborate post that made sense, but I don't feel like it so making sense will have to just wait for another day. Last night, although I did manage to catch The Office (Pam is my new hero . . . she joins Kermit the Frog and Johnny Cash . . . I'm totally kidding . . . I love Johnny Cash, but he's not my hero) . . . what was I talking about? Oh, TV. Right. Oh my gosh, so did anyone watch Lost? Is Locke going to die?! I'm thinking no, but you never can tell. And who knew Ben was so batshit crazy? I mean, we knew he was a tiny bit crazy but he is totally and completely pitch-a-tent-on-the-front-lawn-stalk-you-and-boil-bunnies-in-your-kitchen crazy. And that's really crazy.

Anyway, I skipped Grey's Anatomy so I could pack for Nashville. I know that sounds extreme, but you have no idea how long it takes me to pack. First, I pulled out every possible article of clothing I might want to wear this weekend and threw it all on my bed. Then Heidi and I went for a walk. When I came back into my room, I was disappointed to find that my clothes had not magically folded themselves and placed them neatly in the suitcase. Not. Cool. So, I had a mini-fashion show (Fashion show! Fashion show! Fashion show in my room! is the song I sang) to figure out what I wanted to pack. The purpose of the fashion show was to ensure that I did not just throw a bunch of random clothes into my suitcase in the hopes that some of them would make outfits once I got down to Nashville, but even after trying everything on that's pretty much what I ended up doing. I suck at packing. I suck at fashion, too. I have a friend (not a very nice one, apparently) who told me she wanted to nominate me for What Not To Wear. At first I was offended, but then I remembered that you get like $5000 to go shopping. Also, I'd get to meet Stacy and Clinton. I love Stacy and Clinton! OK, I'm still a tiny bit offended but I prefer to think she's not nominating me because I dress like a complete and total slob, but because I'm way more likely to throw on a pair of jeans, some Threadless, and flip-flops than to mess around with trying to put together an "outfit." Clothes are stupid. Well, not all clothes. I do enjoy t-shirts. And pajamas. Also, shoes of any kind.

I managed to fit everything (including shoes!) into one bag. OK, that's a lie, I have one big bag and one very, very, tiny, practically-not-even-there bag. I hope I didn't forget anything. The last time I went on a trip, I forgot my toothbrush. Did you know that you can buy a toothbrush at most gas stations? Well, you can.

So, I just saw this shirt and for some reason it makes me giggle every time I look at it. Hee. Sometimes I wish I could buy all of those shirts and just wear a different one every day. Even to work. Until I got fired, which probably wouldn't take long if I wore this one (but come on . . . hee!)

I'm working ("working") through lunch today so I can leave early and I think I'm the only one in the office right now. It's a bit creepy. I always worry at times like this that the world is going to end and no one will come tell me. And I won't know until no one comes back from lunch and it'll be like 3 o'clock and I'll be all, "where is everyone?" and then I'll worry that, hey, maybe the world really did end or WORSE everyone turned into zombies and I'm pretty sure there isn't anything I can use as a weapon in this office. So, until that happens, I guess I'll just sit here with The Shins and The Internets and worry about zombies later.

Conversations Extravaganza; or, Why My Mother is Grosser Than Yours

Last night, I went over to Nancy's to make a penis cake. It wasn't very hard (heh) because all we had to do was mix up all the ingredients and pour it in the mold, but I felt confident that if anyone could mess up cake from a box, I could. I didn't, though. So there. On the way home, I talked to my mom and NOW I BRING YOU a Conversation with My Mother:

Me: Hi, Mom.
Mom: Hey, what are you doing?
Me: Driving.
Mom: Oh, where are you going?
Me: I was at Nancy's.
Mom: Doing what?
Me: Making a penis cake.
Mom: Okaaaay.
Me: It's for Erin's bachelorette party this weekend.
Mom: Oh, I see. You just made the penis?
Me: Um, yes?
Mom: . . .
Me: Why?
Mom: Oh, no reason, I was just going to say something very crass.
Me: Well, thank you for keeping it to yourself.
Mom: It was going to be something about testicles.
Me: Mom! And anyway, the penis had balls attached.
Mom: Oh, OK.
Me: Also, we made pubic hair.
Mom: OK, Jennie, I didn't need to know that.
Me: It's just coconut shavings and food coloring.
Mom: You could have been like the guys from Jackass and used real pubic hair.
Me: OH MY GOD.

Later, I told Heidi about it and we laughed and laughed because is there anything funnier than moms saying "pubic hair?" I don't think so.

Heidi: I can't believe your mom said that.
Me: I know. Although, now I know where I get it from.
Heidi: That's true.
Me: I always thought it was from my dad, but it turns out it's my mom.
Heidi: Who knew?
Me: Or maybe it's from both of them.
Heidi: That would explain a lot.
Me: Man, I'm screwed.

When I got home from making the penis cake, I changed and put my gym clothes on. I had my mp3 player, membership card, and keys in my hand and then decided I didn't want to go. I took my shoes and socks off and sat down at the computer and then had this crazy mess of thoughts: You should go to the gym. Just go. You're already wearing your gym clothes. JUST GO. But if you go, you won't be home until almost 10 and you might miss some of Lost. Who cares, you're TiVoing it. Yeah, but you still have to fold some laundry and iron. Or you could not wear that shirt you were planning on wearing and you wouldn't have to iron. But you'd still have to fold laundry. Just go. Go. You went to all that trouble of putting a sports bra on, seriously just go. Plus, if you don't go, Heidi is going to come home and ask what you did tonight and all you'll have to tell her is 'made a penis cake and sat around playing on the Internets' and then she'll make fun of you, do you want that? No. Get off your ass and go.

So, I went. And almost immediately regretted it because all the elliptical machines with the TVs attached were taken, so I had to go into the Cardio Cinema and the movie they were playing was Employee of the Month. Starring Dane Cook and Jessica Simpson. I don't know if you know how I feel about them but if I were stuck on a deserted island and had to decide which one to eat for survival or sacrifice to appease the Volcano Gods? I would volunteer to jump into the Volcano myself because I wouldn't want to spend the rest of my life with either one of them. Luckily, when I went in, it was toward the end of the movie so the credits took up a lot of the time I was in there. But could they have assembled any more annoying people to star in that movie? Dane Cook, Jessica Simpson, Dax Shepard, ANDY DICK, and that guy from Half-Baked who gets throw in jail. You know the one I mean? He was in Sorority Boys, too. Also There's Something About Mary, talking about seven being the key number and chipmunks on a branch. Oh man, why do I know this? I watch too much TV. Also, too many movies. I will HANDS DOWN KICK YOUR ASS at Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon.

Anyway. Did I tell you the other night we broke our garbage disposal? Well, I say WE broke it but really it was all Heidi. Hee. Sorry, Heidi. This is the fourth kitchen appliance we have broken (it goes: stove, dishwasher, freezer, garbage disposal, and also my toilet). Heidi said when she called the apartment complex lady to tell her it was broken, the lady asked how we knew and when Heidi told her I had Googled "clogged garbage disposal" and Google said never, ever put celery in the garbage disposal, she laughed and laughed for the rest of the phone call. I don't know why. I thought everyone Googled everything and if you don't believe me I'll Google you RIGHT NOW I swear I will.