ooooooooh BARRACUDA

I went all week having pretty much jack shit to do. And now, in the last hour of work for the week (I get to leave at 3!), I have been given something that needs done RIGHT NOW OMG WTF.

Of course, I'm blogging, so I must have plenty of time to finish it. Revel in the procrastination! Revel, I say!

Ahem. Just a bit ago, I called someone to set up an interview and their ringback tone (wtf ever it's called) was Barracuda. Awesome. I have a bad habit of singing along to these songs and continuing to sing even after the person has answered (ask Heidi, her ringback is Don't Stop Believin') but I held it in this time because I am nothing if not professional. Although, who WOULDN'T want to work at a company where the employees were singing Heart?

The answer is: I don't know, why are you asking me questions, I HAVE SO MUCH TO DO.

the best things in life are free

Whenever I leave the office, spring in step and grin in place, I get to a certain point in the parking lot where I cringe in absolute horror. Not because I don't want to leave work (please), but because of the unholy stench emanating from the building next door.

It's some sort of Skyline factory. I'm not sure exactly what they're doing in there, whether they're testing new Skyline recipes or just making more of the same-old, but the smell is horrifying. You know how I feel about Skyline, right? How it's evil and disgusting and who the hell puts CINNAMON in chili? CINNAMON?! Also, I stand by my statement that the hotdogs themselves taste like they were boiled in toilet water.

Sometimes my coworkers will be all, "you have to be from here to like Skyline," whenever someone says they haven't had it. And speedy quick, I have to say, "I grew up here AND I HATE IT so that's not true." It's sort of like when someone says to me, "You like Two and a Half Men, right?" and I have to hurry and tell them, "OMG NO I HATE IT WHO IS SPREADING THESE VICIOUS, VICIOUS LIES ABOUT ME?"

Anyway, do you know how disgusting it is to smell Skyline in the morning? Well, I'll tell you. It's really disgusting. It's a good diet tool, though. When I get to work I'm usually starving because I never have time to eat before I leave the apartment, preferring instead to sleep ten more minutes because SLEEP IS AWESOME I HEART IT. Then I get out of the car and Skyline smacks me in the face and I never want to eat anything again ever.

Between that and my goal to save money and eat better, I've been packing my lunch so I don't have to leave the office. Except sometimes I HAVE to go out at lunch or I would kill all my coworkers and stab my computer with a letter opener. But most days, I prefer to pack my lunch and do important things during my lunch break, like pay bills or read the Internets.

But. Packing my lunch can be bad for the environment. I mean, yeah, everything can be bad for the environment, but packing lunch? With the little sandwich and snack baggies? Totally bad. So I went to Target one day with the hopes of finding a couple little tupperware type things to use primarily for lunches. We have some stuff at home, sort of, but our collection mostly consists of really old Gladware and Tupperware I've stolen from my parents. I ended up spending 20 dollars on a 36 piece set of Rubbermaid containers, which was probably not necessary but this is why I need to pack my lunch. So I don't go to Target and spend money.

Now if only someone could take away my ability to shop online, I'd be rich, I tell you, RICH!

Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler.

Everyone knows Milton (from Office Space, duh) is delightfully wacky. Or, you know, certifiably insane. He's a bit obsessed with his stapler (wacky!) but, um, burns down his place of employment (insane).

But is it insane? No one blames him for burning the place down, right? I think, if placed in a similar situation, many of us would be tempted to do the same thing.

It's because of Milton that I'm a bit worried about my career trajectory. You see, earlier I received some paperwork that I needed to attach to some other paperwork, because attaching paperwork to other paperwork is one of my main job duties. But then, lo and behold (lo! behold!), MY STAPLER WAS NOT TO BE FOUND.

WTF, I thought, NO SERIOUSLY, WTF. I don't ask for a lot at work. I have a modest work space and my computer works (most of the time), although currently the privacy screen is being held on by a precarious system of scotch tape, hope, and crossed fingers. I put up with all of my co-workers, including the woman who thinks I'm her therapist and the guy who I once overheard saying, "I pretend Obama isn't president," AND who shouts, "HOO-rah," every time someone mentions the Marines. I put up with them all and I do it with a smile. So the LEAST these people can do is leave me my stapler.

I hope someone brings it back. Or gives me a new one. I fear I'm but a few short steps from setting something on fire. If they move my office to the basement, I quit.

I speak over two thousand languages, including Dodo and Unicorn. I had a classical education.

The Universe is totally telling me to get a puppy. Look at this Super Exciting Opportunity that I received in my Gmail today:

From: Troye Lincoln
To: Me
Subject: Adorable Puppies Available!!

Hello, My name is Troye, I got your e-mail address from the email surfing marketing affiliated with the US chamber of commerce. Am mailing to let you know i've got some puppies am willing to adopt to a loving and caring home because I don't have the special time they need anymore due to my job. I have a female English bulldog and a male Yorkie. These puppies have got great personality and I will love to let you know that they are not just a puppy but a baby for you. These babies participate in the house jobs and we are teaching them to understand human language. They have this great personality like human. Kindly let me know if you are interested. So I can email you the pictures and more info. Thank you for taking your time to read the advert. Reply to: i_want_to_give_you_puppies@awesome.org.

So I think I should write him back, yeah? Hee. I mean, I know it's Spam, but it came to my inbox and when I first saw it, I was all, "NOOOOOO! I can't get a puppy right now, STOP TEMPTING ME!"

I don't really want an English bulldog or a Yorkie, anyway, although I am tempted now that I know they are learning to understand HUMAN LANGUAGE. I wonder which human language they're learning. It'd be cool to have a puppy that spoke French, but I don't speak French, so how would I talk to it? Plus! They participate in house jobs? Does that mean they clean the bathroom? Because I hate cleaning the bathroom.

Anyway, it would seem that the theme of this week is ANIMALS ARE CUTE AND AWESOME because you know what? Animals are cute and awesome. I need to unsubscribe from The Daily Puppy and Zooborns because my heart explodes on, like, an HOURLY basis and it takes a long time to clean that up, you know?

Still, I'm POWERLESS against animals IRL. Presented with pretty much any four-legged creature, I melt into a puddle of stupid-voiced goo and spend ten minutes telling a chipmunk how adorable it is and that, DON'T WORRY, everything will be OK, Jennie is here to take care of you OMG WHY DID YOU JUST POOP IN MY CAR.

See: chipmunk.

It's not just four-legged animals, though. Last night, while Joe and I were waiting for our Chinese food (yum), I stared at a group of ducks for SO LONG, I thought Joe might get up and leave me there.

Ducks:



Convo:

Me: Where did they all come from? Why are they out there?
Joe: I don't know.
Me: There are SO MANY.
Joe: Yep.
Me: OMG! One of the ducks? Had something hanging from its bill. And another duck ate it! Haha!
Joe: ...
Me: One of the ducks sat down. Like PLOP.
Joe: ...
Me: Another one sat down.
Joe: ...
Me: There went another one! The way they sit down looks painful. They just flop.
Joe: ...
Me: Haha! That one? The one that ate the thing off the other one's bill? The thing it ate is hanging off its bill now!
Joe: ...
Me: Now like half of them are sitting. One just peed.
Joe: ...
Me: I think that one is sitting in its pee! Gross.
Joe: ...
Me: Also, they're pooping everywhere.
Joe: That's why I'm not looking at them.
Me: Ew, I just saw one poop. I'm going to sit down now.
Joe: Good.

All of this leads me to believe that I need a pet of some kind. Phoebe is alright but she won't let me cuddle her and this one time she puked on my bed. I'm leaning toward a mini pig because OMG SO CUTE. Look. I'll wait. Heather! Anne! says I should get two, so they can be BFFs, which is a good idea because even mini pigs need BFFs. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go think of some names for my new mini pigs.

don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time

Hi, Internets. I haven't written all week because I've been sick and I'm like the whiniest sick person ever. You really lucked out because I kept my whining to Joe, my mom, and Heidi. I started not feeling good when we got back from Myrtle Beach and this week I started feeling really not good AND THEN, like the idiot I am, I went running on Tuesday because I felt guilty about not having gone running for two weeks, and then on Wednesday I stayed home from work because, duh, I was sick and needed to sleep all day. So that's what I did. I mean, I didn't sleep ALL day. I managed to watch an episode of The Golden Girls (they were all sick, too!) and go to the library (because I finished my last library book and need more, duh) and make a sensible dinner. Only not really. Mostly I watched Joe make a sensible dinner and then I ate it. We also started watching Lost FROM THE BEGINNING and I guess I forgot that the show has been a complete mind-fuck from the very start. Also, I'm not sure at what point Jack became a total douche but, upon rewatch, my feelings toward his present douchitude have totally influenced how I feel about him in early episodes. Meaning: I hate him. Every time he cries, I'm all, "oh, waaaah, I'm stuck on an island boohoo!" like, suck it up, Jack, everyone else is stuck there, too, and they don't cry all the time. They have sex in polar bear cages or play with Vincent. And I'm totally bored with Jack/Kate. Go away, Kate. Or, like, just don't talk. You're pretty, but when you open your mouth, I just want to punch you in your pretty face.

Also! It's really hard to watch the show with someone who has never seen it and not spoil everything. Like, last night, Sayid got hit in the head with a big log and Joe was all, "OMG, who did that?" and I was like, "...um, I don't know!" and he was like, "do you really not know?" and I said, "maybe I do, maybe I don't...OK, no, I really don't remember." Because I don't remember like, ANYTHING that happened on the first season because it was a long, long time ago. In a galaxy far, far away. Or something.

Right, so anyway, did you know it's Friday? Because it's Friday. I like Friday, although tonight I think I'm just going to go home, put on my pajamas, pop some Benadryl and spend the evening alternating between napping and reading and watching TV. Jealous?

I started this post about four hours ago and just now remembered that I never published it. Oops. I just went outside to get lunch (hello, Subway, my healthy friend) and OH MY GOD YOU GUYS, it is so hot! WTF happened? It's been all warm-but-OK temperatures so far but TODAY when I walked outside, Humidity smacked me in the face and called me its bitch. Rude. Anyway, I eventually came back inside and made out with the AC and I feel better now.

just as you are

I'm still not entirely sure why I decided to join Match last year. Boredom, loneliness, curiosity, all of the above. I was just getting over a looooong angsty period as a result of A Boy who made me feel angsty in the way only A Boy can. Once that was over (you know, mostly), I tried being set up. That didn't work, even though he was very funny, had an extensive book collection, AND looked like a grownup Harry Potter minus the lightning bolt scar.

Still, I've always been skeptical of Match (and all internet dating) and made fun of the winking, but now that I think about it, wouldn't real-life dating be a lot easier if we all employed this winking system? You see someone cute across the bar, you wink, he (hopefully) winks back and BOOM, instant love. Or something.

So join I did, after watching Heidi and her coworker giggling over profiles. Oh, I thought, it's like Myspace, only I have to pay for it and I might get axe-murdered. I was still skeptical about internet dating, although I really didn't have a reason to be. A friend from college met her husband on some Yahoo dating site PLUS there are all those happy couples in the commercials and commercials never lie, right?

(tea, not coffee)

A year ago (yesterday), I went to meet a boy for coffee, after a week of emailing and talking and making sure the other wasn't (too) crazy. I wasn't nervous to meet him, not at all. I was excited. All week, I'd been thinking, "why are we waiting til the weekend to meet?" but the weekend finally came, and we met, and I don't remember what we talked about but we hogged two of the best chairs in Boston Stoker for over four hours.

I didn't join Match with any expectations, except that maybe I'd get some entertaining blog posts out of it. Bad dates make good stories, but I never had any bad Match dates because, while I'd exchanged emails with a few people, Joe was the first person from Match that I actually met. And THANK GOD because if I'd gone on any bad dates, I would have quit immediately because, duh, I'm a quitter. And then I might never even have met Joe because we're both shut-ins who would rather stay in and read/watch movies/play with the Internets (in pajamas) than go out into the real world. Joe knows me better than anyone ('cept Heidi), he thinks the ridiculous and inappropriate things I say are cute, and he tells me I'm pretty even when I've spent the entire day all fevery and barfy and unshowered. There's nothing in the world I wouldn't want to do with Joe, even if that something is doing nothing.

I was never all that interested in falling in love because it seemed too messy. I knew what I wanted and could size up a boy and rule him out in an instant as NOT IT. Joe threw me off. I was instantly comfortable with him, which is unlike me. Normally I'm quiet and just generally socially awkward around new people, but not with Joe. I told him once that I'd built a wall around myself so no one could see that, yes, I have feelings and yes, they could be hurt. He just replied that it's a good thing he's tall enough to see over the wall.

(see, tall)

There's plenty to worry about in the future. Money, car, job, housing, etc. But something clicked when I met Joe. A piece of my life that I didn't even know was missing was suddenly there and now I don't have to worry about things so much. And if you knew what a chronic worrier I am, you'd see what special kind of miracle Joe worked.

Here's to a great year.

out, damned spot!

I just spent about thirty seconds trying to wipe a crumb off of my lip and then I realized it wasn't a crumb. It was a freckle. I didn't even know you could get freckles on your lips but APPARENTLY you can. Or at least I can. Jealous? You shouldn't be. My face is an explosion of freckles right now. I'd show you, but I haven't put my Myrtle Beach pictures on my computer yet. Sorry.

Anyway, I'm back. We got back late last night, which means I'm tired and whiny today. Whinier than usual, even, which is pretty whiny. I called Joe earlier and was all, "I'm tiiiiiiired," until finally he said he was going to hang up and I should call back when I was an adult again. I'm afraid, though, that I'll never really be an adult, mwaahaahaa.

I don't know. I'm tiiiiiired! I couldn't sleep last night because, in an effort to stay awake until I got home, I drank a shitload of caffeine (truth: I got a drink from Starbucks just because I was bored and had a gift card). The reason I couldn't stay awake is because we went to the beach for four hours before flying home and being at the beach is hard! It's true! It's really warm and the sand is all hot and you get sand all over EVERYTHING, no matter how hard you try not to, and then you get in the ocean and the waves try to beat you up and steal your swimsuit. Plus also, you might have to save a little girl's life like I did one day. There I was, just sitting and relaxing and reading my book, when I looked over to the umbrella next to ours and saw a little girl clutching the umbrella stand, crying, and shifting from foot to foot.

I was all, "are you OK?" and she emphatically shook her head no. "Are you lost?" I asked and she replied, "My feet hurt!" so I motioned for her to come under our umbrella. I asked where her adult was and noticed she wasn't wearing any shoes so her feet were probably burning off of her body. Because that is how hot the sand was that day. TRUE STORY. Anyway. I picked her up and we went walking down the beach, looking for her particular blue umbrella in a sea of blue umbrellas. Luckily, a lady eventually ran up to us and claimed her, which was good because I was tempted to keep her. She was almost as cute as a puppy.

So maybe I am an adult, after all. Even though a stewardess on one of our flights asked if I was old enough to sit next to the emergency exit because she claims I look 12*. I blame the freckles.

*Just . . . what? That lady was crazypants.