this is going to sell TONS of cars.

or why white boys don't rap. i'm not sure. hehehe...

i'm looking in on the good life...

i hate hospitals. they reek of illness and death. any happiness found in a hospital is confined to a small corner of a single floor; babies and new life are kept hidden away from the general public. instead visitors are welcomed by the overwhelming stench of end-of-life services and dying flowers, sadness and stale coffee. no one ever leaves a hospital looking happy.

i hate hospitals. did i mention that?

today i drove. i drove from dubuque to iowa city (84 miles). i drove from iowa city to des moines (114 miles). i drove from des moines to pella (46 miles). but all that driving calmed my nerves temporarily. here's what i learned:

• dad: my dad has improved 110 percent from his condition yesterday. he is mobile (somewhat) and while his vision is a little blurry, he can speak and function at an almost normal level. he's eating and drinking on a regular schedule. no more morphine. tests were conducted today and with any luck will be released tomorrow to go home. yay!
• grandma: my grandma is not doing so well. her incision is still bleeding, but not as severely. she looks incredibly pale and small and is not keeping food down; she's not even keeping fluids or meds down. she's fighting an obscure staph infection and is facing a six week regimen of daily intravenous antibiotics. they hope she'll be able to go home by friday but this isn't definite.

so. while nothing is wrong with me right now, you never know when something could happen. so i want to lay out some very basic instructions and information for those that will/would take care of the arrangements and distribution of the few things i actually own.

i'm not being morbid, i'm just being prepared.

okay, arrangements. i don't want to be buried. i want to be cremated. but i don't want to be placed in an urn. big lebowski-style, let me go over the ocean over the lava rock at la perouse bay on the island of maui. i don't want a big flowery funeral. and if anyone gets one of those big ugly flower arrangements with the big ribbon that says, "granddaughter" or "friend" i will hunt them down and haunt them for the rest of their days. i hate that shit.

i have specific music i want played.

• the verve: bittersweet symphony
• green day: good riddance
• moby: porcelain
• death cab for cutie: i will follow you into the dark
• the shins: new slang
• radiohead: fake plastic trees
• smashing pumpkins: in the arms of sleep

i don't want anything weepy; if it cannot be a celebration, i don't want anything at all. i hate formal, i hate pompous, i hate traditional. buck the system and get a fucking keg. i mean it.

as far as divvying up what little i own, i want this specifically followed. there are no exceptions to this. no swapping, no white elephant.

• mom: i want my mom to have my giraffe swatch watch and all my books (except for the one i want alex to have) and my book case.
• craig: i want craig to have all my dvds and cds because he doesn't possess enough random pop culture knowledge as it is. craig can also have all my t-shirts because chances are if it's at all cool it was prolly his to begin with.
  
• jorge: i want jorge to have my computer and ipod, because he doesn't have one and thinks he doesn't need one. if he had one he'd love it.
  
• steph: i want steph to have all my jewelry. steph honestly loves pretty things.
  
• mark: i want mark to have my entertainment center and television. he can keep them or burn them or whatever he wants to do with them. he deserves them for every time he's moved them.
• alex: i have a book called the 'little prince' that i want her to have. i also want her to have my swatches (except for the one with the frog on it, i think her mom should have that one) and my tickle bunnies, because i know she understands how important they are.
  
• brent: i want my roommate to have my cats and my fish and my ugly fishtank and my playstation. but you have to promise to take both kitties, not just the gay one.
  
• misty: i want misty to have my cell phone(s) and my beanie babies. lol.
  
• eddy: i want to leave eddy my car and all my debt because he's not yet fully my ex (at least at the time of this publication... hehehe...)
• everything else... that stuff isn't important. i don't really care. i've named all the important stuff. but i retain the right to alter this document at any time.

i feel better getting this out.

i had the strangest dream last night. i dreamt that the gran massa and schmalex were standing in the kitchen with all the cheese i've purchased lately spread out on the counter, holding knives and eating as fast as they could. i wanted cheese so bad but they wouldn't let me have any. the gran massa was laughing maniacally and schmalex wasn't being mean, she just looked sad. according to this site, cheese symbolizes gains and profits. so the gran massa and my cousin are eating my gains and profits. sonsabitches.

next week is winter break at school. another week when i don't have class. but that means that no one else has class either. yay!

tonight i'm holed up in the dutch village with the blanket that really should be mine. if i get up early enough i might just take it with me but i fear the family backlash i may incur. i don't know if it's worth it because apparently my brother, in addition to having no body fat, also has no blankets.

i'm going to bed.

gnite lovelies.
love, superfreakinoverlypreparedforthewrongthingsjanel

tickle is all that remains.

family stuff. lots and lots of family stuff. i like to pretend that i'm above stuff like this bothering me and lots of times i choose not to talk/think/act about it. but today is heavy and i can't get it off my mind.

not in order of importance; this is order of events...

best gram. my grandma is important to me. she likes to say that she doesn't know that that's true anymore, but she knows otherwise. sometimes life gets in the way. one of my all time best memories ever is the summer i spent with my grandma and grandpa when i was 8 years old. i spent an entire summer as an only child, which at the time was all i ever wanted. we had the best time. everyday we would do something fun, even if it was just me going to work with her and i would draw and use the adding machine and sit behind the desk while she and grandpa worked. it was the best. and then i remember crying when i had to leave and for days afterward, i missed her so much. when i got older she sort of became the liason between my mom and i when things got ... rough. one of my favorite stories about my gram is from when i was about 10 or 11, and she was making grilled cheese for my grandpa and i one night after he got home. and all i did was make the comment, 'you guys eat a lot of grilled cheese.' and she got so mad, she threw mine away and i didn't get any. i wasn't being mean or snarky or anything, i was simply making an observation. and i still didn't get any dinner. i don't think i laughed about it then. but i laugh about it now.

my gram's in the hospital. she's not doing well. infections and bleeding. in my mind, she'll always be 58, healthy, happy. and too young for any of this.

my father. my dad and i have a special relationship. sometimes it doesn't even feel like a relationship, it's more of a respect. he doesn't interfere in my life, he hasn't since i was 12 and he decided that there were things more important to him than his family. i spent many of my teen years angry with he and his new wife for many reasons; i spent several more feeling that they owed me something. and then one day, it just sort of hit me. anger and hatred took far more energy that i was willing to expend on them and that situation. and i stopped. i accepted it for what it was: something i couldn't change. and so this has how it's been. my father kind of stopped being a father and started being a friend. a fully-grown but juvenile acting friend. and i accept him for what he is and for what he's not, faults and strengths and all, and i love him in spite of it. and i know that somewhere in that mixed up list of priorities, his kids are in there towards the top and i appreciate that. i know he loves me. and that's what matters.

my dad had another stoke today. he was unconscious for several hours. he had to be lifeflighted to iowa city. he's stable but the full extent of the damage isn't yet known. he's only 57.

i'm not ready for this yet. i'm not ready for any of this yet. i'm 27 years old and in some ways i've been blessed that i've lost very few of the important people around me. i'm not ready for that to change.

don't you have anything nice to say?

the omniscient furby strikes again. his horoscope writing skills are a tad on the terror inducing side, because i don't need/want/like any more drama in my life. but that's what he's predicting. and because he's the furby, and because he just knows, i'm in for another swell day.

"There might be someone in your immediate circle of family or friends that you like very much, Janelle, but with whom you just don't see eye to eye on certain issues. This conflict of ideas both unnerves and annoys you. In this relationship, your feelings and your ideas cannot live in harmony together. You will be very aware of this kind of contradiction in your life today..."

why can't they just write nice, happy things? like, 'today will be sunny and you're going to win the lottery and have great hair?' just once, i'd like to see that happen. nope, instead i get this kind of crap. i don't want to be aware of contradiction. maybe i'll just sleep all day.

i'm pooped, kiddos. more to come later.

love, superjanelishappytobebackatwork

wolf blitzer. boo.

i should have named my cats after islands. watch this. it's funny.

let's go to walmart! i love tater tots!

i hate wal-mart. i hate what it stands for. but right now, i'd go to wal-mart. reason being, it's highly recommended that i not go to wal-mart. or the supermarket. or the post office. or any-fucking-where. i want to go just because i know i'm not supposed to. that and because i'm one of those assholes with an all wheel drive suv that likes to pretend that i own the road in bad weather.

that's a lie. i act like i own the damn road in all weather; it's not a bad weather specific habit.

most people pride themselves on being defensive drivers - being all prepared for whatever happens out there between the solid yellow lines on the highway. not me, man. i am a 100 percent offensive driver. i'm the driver that everyone else is looking out for. and rightfully so. how does one attain double-digit accident status without being an offensive driver?

the thing is, most of those accidents weren't my fault, at least not directly. okay, so like the one with the gravel road and the fence, and the ones where hippie heater and i would rear end each other on purpose, those were sort of my fault. so was that one where i was texting and driving, i guess. but crazy ass people hitting my car on purpose don't count. and that's like... two or three of my accidents. and the rest, i swear, weren't my fault.

WOW. a transformer just blew down the street. lots of light and big noise. (i'm easily impressed, eh?) it sounded like something just blew up; maybe it was somebody's house. crazy whack funky. ...and i'm back. nope, not a house. all the neighborhood seems to be intact. i was just outside (my first time in more than 24 hours) and all the houses seem to be there, which is too bad. i wanted it to be the house of ruffians across the street. damn it! update: it's fucking cold boys and girls.

holy crizzap. i hate writing about weather, but for the love. this is pathetic. the national weather service has a bulletin titled "***LIFE-THREATENING/CRIPPLING WINTER STORM AFFECTING AREA***." no seriously. it's red and yellow and ugly and sort of scary. my mom has a theory that the national weather service is in cahoots with the supermarkets to sell more milk and toilet paper. i don't know if that's true but it's interesting to think about. 'if you put millions and millions of people into a weather related frenzy and cause them to buy us out of creamed corn, we'll give you a nice lil' kickback...' but my boy jim cantore would never do that.

i've watched the weather channel for like 10 hours straight now, with the exception of that four hours i spent sleeping earlier, and the hour and a half i spent on the phone, and the hour i spent texting, and the half an hour i spent in the shower and the 10 minutes i spent looking for the bologna in the fridge. so now, having done the math, that's only like 2 hours and 50 minutes spent watching the weather channel which makes me seem way less freakish. go me.

what else? the upside of the gran massa having company was that boxes were finally unpacked and things were put away. he even put things on the wall - including my wonderful, beautiful christmas stars. it actually looks and feels like a house, even though it doesn't necessarily look or feel like my house. at least it looks like somebody's house as opposed to someone's storage space.

so. is it weird that i'm oddly attracted to harry potter in these pictures? i dig a dude with a treasure trail. he's only 17 but he's an actor so this is not kiddie porn, okay? in some of them, his head looks a little photoshopped but maybe that's just me. hmm...

maybe that's lightning that keeps doing that. and thunder. holy shiznit. that scares the janel. yikes. am i experiencing thundersnow? thundersleet? mama likey those words. i want to be a meteorologist. maybe just date one. one that wears purple shirts and works at the weather channel...

captain insano shows no mercy.

madison is the dumbest city in the world.

oh. em. gee.

i hate msn. i hate it. i hate it more than i can describe. i hate it, i hate it, i hate it! (when i make this statement, i want to talk to my grandma on the phone and wear high heels and stomp my feet like henry winkler in the waterboy... hehehe...)

anyway. here is the short version of why i hate madison, wisconsin:

• they don't believe in street signs or road markings of any variety. or lights. and all the goddamn streets look the same.
  
• apparently there is only one way to get to the airport. we did not take it. we didn't take anything close to it.
• even if there isn't a sign that says, don't make a u-turn here, i'm still supposed to fucking know that i can't make a u-turn there.
  
• the cops are assholes. (raise my right hand my ass. "do you know why i'm pulling you over?" "because you got all C's in high school?" motherfuckers. i have strong feelings about law enforcement officials. and they're not positive ones either.)
• apparently something about the polar alignment and the magnetism of the moon in msn throws off the gran massa champ's internal compass. because we were lost as shit both going into town and heading out. we suck.
• i love my gal pal. she's a 'doll', but she's sort of a flake. but i guess if i was inside the bar and watched my friend get pulled over right outside i prolly wouldn't answer my phone either, i'd be laughing so hard. thanks, doll.
  
• it's a long ass drive. period. and cow-shaped cheese does not make everything better. just some things.

are you wondering why i was in madison for the better part of the night last night? yeah, i'm still trying to figure that one out too. no, seriously, the champ had a friend come into the area. he was supposed to fly into cid, but because delta is the stellar airline that they are, he ended up in msn instead. about three hours late. YES. i thought, the champ picked me as a friend, this guy must be somewhat intelligent and/or good looking, gay or not, at least i'll have something entertaining for the next few hours.

um, no.

what the gran massa failed to mention is that the friend was abused as a child by the hairlip fairy. and that instead of a full-facial beating with the proverbial ugly stick, he opted for a half beating and a full lobotomy. this is a grown man, making the statement, "i didn't know the mississippi river was all the way up here."

all the way up here? this is iowa. not the fucking north pole. what the fuck kind of geography are they teaching you in ohio? don't they have any sort of educational standards? will they just graduate anyone who can write their name in cursive and distinguish oranges from apples?

wow. so i distanced myself as soon as i could, even though it was *only* 0430 this morning when we finally got home. short of locking myself in my bedroom, i couldn't get away fast enough. i could feel the mean iq in the house dropping dramatically even though we'd added a third person. it scared the janel.

but thankfully, they're gone now. yay. and the house is quiet, except for the occasional ring of the phone, buzz of the im, or the splash of the kitty falling in the fish tank. i don't know who was more surpised, the kitty or the fish. i guess i'm going to have to start paying attention to that kind of stuff when i'm home.

damn you kitties, don't you know i'm busy?

i got the nicest text message today: 'i just wanted you to know i'm thinking about you.' i wore the biggest, goofiest grin for like two hours. it was great.

and now, now i think i'm going to go to bed. i'm tired. boo.

gnite, lovelies.
love, superfreakindon'tbringyourdumbassfriendsaroundmejanel

now i want dessert.

i'll agree. the grilled cheese is good. it's better on sourdough bread but it didn't stop me from eating the whole thing in like 4.3 seconds. yum. now i want dessert. are you taking requests?


the recipe is here. make it. do it. i'm still hungry. please?

i'm hungry.

last night i thought for sure that someone was vandalizing the house but it turns out it was just really, really windy and noisy.

i had that dream with jeccers in it again, except this time i was the new kid at school and she was already at school and she was a raging bitch and a half, which if you know her is much more true to life. i really liked english class with mrs. thompson (who actually was my high school english teacher) - she let us participate in wine tastings and drink mgd while watching finding nemo. i don't know how any of this relates to english, but whatever, it's *my* dream. anyway. my guidance counselor showed me my page in the upcoming yearbook (which was a bunch of pictures i hated) and then gave me a bunch of oranges and sent me home.

i swear i'm not on any sort of hallucinogenic drugs. but i could explain why i dreamt about each and every one of those things. ready?

• jeccers: i was talking to my aunt last night and apparently jeccers is working on some sort of teaching degree, or was. anyway, she subsitute taught for my cousin and in doing so was a super-huge-mega-biotch.
• school: school in my dreams means school in life. (duh. that was hard.)
• mrs. thompson: my hs english teacher would be really upset with me if she knew how i was considering putting my writing skills to work to pay my rent this month. sorry, mrs. t. but i promise not to use run-on sentences and overuse the comma.
• wine tastings and mgd: apparently i'm coming off my sabbatical this evening in honor of a friend of the grand massa champ coming to town. subconciously, i must be a little excited about it. hehehe...
• finding nemo: i watched gilda and gene, the clownfish in the kitchen, for a ridiculously long time last night. they're so stinking cute it's pathetic. i hear they're having babies. i wonder if they're going to need a baby shower...? how does this work with fish? is it like hamsters? do they eat their babies when they get annoyed? 'shut up you little bastards...don't tell me no! come here, no i mean it come here... *GULP* ... oh hell, i just ate amy. and i sort of liked her. now we're down to all boys...'
  
• guidance counselor: i could use a guidance counselor. i could use some guidance. (couldn't we all?) but no, this directly relates to the conversation i had with my aunt about my cousin. (i worry about my schmalexandra.)
• yearbook: i fear change. period. end of story. and those were some really awful, nasty ass pictures. and that jeccers bitch was looking over her shoulder laughing. i ought to put the smack down on her. ugh.
  
• oranges: this one i don't get. i looked this one up in a book i have that's supposed to interpret your dreams. it says food means "food for thought or satisafaction, sexually". let me assure you that it's not the latter. but when i look it up online it says that oranges are a sign of health and prosperity (YAY ME!). i'm all about health and prosperity, bitches. :D

and that's how the superjanel interprets dreams. but i can't lay around and do this all day. i have things to do, phone calls to make, fish to feed (well, not anymore). and i'm hungry!

peas out, bitches. love, the superfreakinhungryjanel

ps - yay for grilled cheese!

is rusty still in the navy?

on any given day, i do/say/experience a number of stupid things. that's just a given. ask anyone around me. it just happens. but today... today was special. today i learned a lesson.

today i learned that before i jump down anyone's throat for changing their voicemail message to something nasty supposedly towards moi, i need to make sure i'm dialing the right person. because i dialed the wrong person with the wrong message and then i got mad about the message. so on my drive down this morning, after listening to the alleged message, i got pissed. so i called back to voice my concerns about this message. and i dialed the right person with no message and let him know what i thought. and midstream of this thought - i realized what i'd done. i have two people by the same name in my phone. and bright and early - we're talking prior to 0730 cst - i'd managed to call both of them. and irritate the holy shit out of both of them. they both thought i was crazy. and frankly, so did i.

so. i had to make reparations to two people instead of just one. one, i had to say, no, i realize that wasn't your weird ass voicemail that i was listening to AND i'm sorry i didn't call you back in 20 minutes like i said i would and i realize it's been 8 days and that's just sort of shitty. and to the other, i had to say, i know you've only prolly been asleep for like half an hour but i'm a retard and it wasn't anything important. and yes, his bf's still being a meathead but no, he still doesn't want you, sorry.

all before 0800. the drama never stops around here. hallelujah. holy shit. where's the tylenol?

coincidence? i think not.

*sigh*

apparently, 'tis the season to fall out of love. that's okay. c'mere davey boy. do let me console you.


i know. you don't want to hear anymore about it. we don't have to talk about that. we can talk about other stuff. i don't care what. i'll make it all better... :)


see? you're starting to feel better already.

me too... :D

hi, i live in the real world.

you know those people, the ones that look like they have it all together: life is going well, career is going well, personally they've got their shit together. maybe they're in a relationship and they're happy, and maybe they're single and seem to enjoy it. family and home life is good. no money issues. tons of friends and things to do. everybody knows these people. except the thing is - these people don't really exist.

these people are a farce. sure. some people may *seem* to have all that going on, but i've never really met anyone that had everything together, on the same page at the same time. it's like it's not possible. it's like no one can really have that life, or at least life that well.

people are really good at putting on that face. the one that allows people to see only what they want others to see. that's why we think that everyone else's life is so great and so wonderful. it's not necessarily a lie, but it's sort of a lie by omission, which is still a lie in definition.

for example. i give really good advice. people come to me and tell me things that a) i have no business knowing and b) i really don't care about but c) they seek my opinion on because d) i project the image that my life is somehow more goal-oriented and clear than it really is. people seem to think that i know what i'm doing and where i'm going when in reality i get up most mornings and it's a big guessing game. i just don't let on to the general public that this is what's going on in my head.

i'm not being egotistical. that's just how it happens. all the time.

so like today, when i'm confronted with a situation where the person that i think has it all together doesn't know what to do - i'm just shocked. it doesn't make the advice that person has given me shallow or any less meaningful; it doesn't make the person any less of a person. it just shocks me that a person that projects this image can feel this way.

even though i know that the image projected is just a hologram of a person she wants people to think she is.

so after that, i have to wonder, i wonder what the people who've seen me break down, who've seen me in the middle of all of this... melodramatic hullabaloo... what do they think?

and then i feel bad because not everthing is about me.

if armageddon is upon us, i choose bruce willis.

have you heard about this? this is making the rounds on some of the news sites today. i wasn't aware until the gran massa champ pointed out that i wasn't going to live past the ripe old age of 56. but i'm down with that. really, that's okay. as sporadically as i seem to be working anyway, i won't have a whole lot of retirement to collect.

so omg. there's a giant asteroid coming towards the earth. mankind as we know it is going to end. if we're going to sin, better get it out of our systems in the next 29 years cuz after that we're all going to be charbroiled chunks of charcoal, sister, floating around in the atmosphere radiating neon and carbon and glycol and magnesium and shit, glowing in the dark.

but wait... haven't we heard this story before? in fact, wasn't it a movie? wasn't it a huge hollywood blockbuster? oh yeah... that's right. remember this?

so now, apparently, the un is all up in arms about what to do about this giant ass rock the size of texas flying (really slowly, if it's going to land in 2036) at earth.

they should consult me. i know what to do. i say give bruce willis a call. dude's got experience. he knows what to do. finally. he can put some of that bad acting background to work and put us out of our misery. because armageddon fucking sucked. and what kind of man makes ben affleck cry? really. (harry! no harry, don't do it! *sob* *tear*)

strap ol' bruce to a rocket and send him up there to do the work he was born to do. because the man hasn't done shit well since moonlighting. that'll give that little punk ashton something to aspire to, now won't it?

word.

(if you would like less-slanted information on this asteroid, click here. or here. or here. don't be one of those spoon-fed assholes that gets all your news from aol for god's sake.)

and the superjanel's OUT.

where's olive?

the other day, it was the day after v-day, i was in hy-vee. and there were these two dudes standing in front of the clearance v-day flower display. and one dude said to the other dude, "look how much fucking money i wasted!"

ahh, love.

is there a statute of limitations on not calling someone back within a reasonable amount of time? last week, i told someone i would call on thursday. and now, officially, it's monday of a different week and i haven't called. is it rude to call now? is it rude to call and not have an excuse as to why i didn't call? or do i need to have an excuse? what constitutes reasonable, anyway? a week? a month? six months? a year? a decade? um, yeah. i lost your number....?

i discussed this with a friend, whom i'm going to leave un-named for my wellbeing as well as his, and he said that yes, i need to have an excuse and that excuse had better well be death. that seemed a little harsh. i asked if that death should be mine or someone else's and apparently that part doesn't matter. death is a reasonable excuse for not calling for five days when i said that i would.

hmmm... so this has the little wheels in my brain turning. i'm obviously not dead. and no one close to me is dead. honest to god, i just didn't feel like picking up the phone and talking to him. isn't that reason enough? the thing is, there's no nice way to say that. 'so, yeah. i'm sorry i didn't call. yeah, i don't know what happened. i was um... tired. and my hair was really dirty. and i got stuck in traffic. and i had to go buy eggs. and the cheese was moldy. fuck it man, i just didn't feel like talking to you, okay?'

but the thing is, i kind of like this guy. right now, in a completely platonic, um, you're-interesting-to-talk-to-but... i-really-don't-want-anything-else-from-you... at-least-not-right-now... kind of way. that's not such a bad thing, is it? we have a lot in common. we both have very twisted senses of humor and we both think i'm the funniest person we know. :D

but in all seriousness, i do like this guy. he's just too serious too fast. i don't want anything long term or committed and while i've indicated in every way that i know how, short of hiring an airplane towing a banner, it hasn't stopped him from coming on just a little too strong for my liking.

so there you have it. there's the real reason i haven't called him back. so now what?

don't you wish you could go back to like seventh grade when all you had to do was check yes, no or maybe? i do. i was a big fan of maybe. always keep 'em guessing...

roger needs a therapist.

i have five goldfish now: roger, adolf, petey, otto and bruiser. (this is roger.) i think they're pretty normal goldfish: they swim and splash and sleep and eat (a lot). they don't seem to remember much, which i hear is pretty normal for a goldfish. they all have their own little personalities, which is kind of cute. and day to day, the seem to exhibit pretty standard goldfish behavior. except for roger. he likes to stick his head to the filter for extended periods of time. i'm really not sure why. i have several theories on this. one, he meditates. two, it just plain feels good. three, he's just a dumb goldfish and doesn't know any better. i have attempted to take a picture of this, but when ever i go near the tank, they assume it's feeding time and act like big fat fatties. i'll keep working on this.

i'm like a fart in a skillet

and i still don't even fully understand what that means. because really, who farts in a skillet?

it's not like i'm lacking for things to do today, i have plenty of things to do today. compound the things i need to do today with the things that i didn't accomplish yesterday - because i didn't accomplish jack yesterday - and my list of things to do is rather long. i'm not going to bore you with it because if i take the time to type it out i'm prolly going to get all depressed and just go back to bed. it's big. (just take my word for it.) i'm just lacking for motivation and i don't know why. i slept til noon because i was up until 0400 because slept most of the day yesterday... i am such a slacker. i'm happy the roommate is gone. if he had gonged at 0704 i would have been pissed. although the cats had me up early, but i was so out of it i was confused by the fact it was dark and i thought maybe i'd slept all day and missed all the daylight and could just stay in bed until monday. nope, it was just 0634 and i just went back to sleep. i am such a dumbass. thank god i go back to work this week.

♥ hurry up april! ♥

this is what's so great about baseball season: kyle farnsworth. look at those arms.

*sigh*

happy go lucky! osu! osu! osu!

and they wonder why the suicide rate is so high?

now PRANCE... work it girl

i had the strangest dream this morning, about a long lost friend. well, she used to be a friend. i'll get into that in a little bit. when i was growing up, my best friend was jeccers. she had an annoying little brother and an even more annoying mother that very few people liked. she had a pillow that i got to sleep on that felt like it was full of jello and a basket in the hallway closet that was full of socks. i'm pretty sure she's the reason i don't wear white socks ever - i was always jealous of her stripes and dots and crazy colors. she had a closet full of clothes like nothing i'd ever seen before and since she apparently stopped growing in the fifth grade (this girl was petite with a capital T; the first T, not the second T) she could wear most of them even as a teenager.

but about this dream. you have to know that i haven't seen her in about six years. and it's my own doing.

i dreamt i was in a wedding. i was shopping for white satin pants (OMG.) which i found at banana republic (so if i'm going to look like a giant dairy cow, i guess i'm going to be a stylish dairy cow). anyway. i get my pants and i drive to centerville. it's a long drive. i drive to a modified version of my parents house and she's there - jeccers. i'm so excited to see her i start to cry. but i don't say anything to her except that if i'm going to be in her wedding she has to do my hair - which, by the way is short and straight and absolutely adorable (gahhh).

the wedding is at night. i can't find any shoes; apparently i didn't bring any. i wear tennis shoes and these mega-expensive, mega-unflattering *white satin pants* (i'm feeling like a member of abba here or something) and i go tell jeccers she has to fix my hair. we're in the basement of this house that is supposedly my parents except it doesn't look anything like my parents and it smells like stale water so i tell her it's from the floods and hurricane katrina and she just nods. (we're in iowa.) she tells me she's missed me and she begins to cry. we hug. i spill something on those god awful pants. i freak out because now i can't wear them and she says its okay. which if you knew jeccers at all, it would not be okay. she also tells me that instead of my current (blue) tennis shoes, i should just go barefoot.

okay.

wedding time. i'm standing up there, all ex-matronly of honour, or something like that and i'm the tallest person in the room. it's an odd feeling. i'm searching for people i know but her family isn't there and while that's no heartbreaker, it's kind of weird. here she comes, also wearing white satin pants. odd. so we're all standing up there and there's no groom. i'm sort of waiting for her jackass of a husband to arrive - maybe this is some rededication of the vows ceremony i've been tricked into attending. but she says no, she dumped that loser years ago.

maybe she got smarter.

instead, here comes this mexican guy and his entourage of like 14 people, all with their no shirts on. this was the most fucked up wedding i've ever been too. i completely expected to hear bone thugs-n-harmony after the matrimonial kiss but it was barry manilow.

and somehow that's okay. and then i woke up.

isn't that weird?

so why aren't i friends with this girl today? well, mostly it has to do with her mom. her mom is a psycho turbo mega bitch and a half. about six years ago they lied to my landlord and convinced him that they were family members so he'd let them into my apartment. for what, i don't remember now. and they left me the nastiest letter. so i told them to fuck off and i haven't spoken to them since.

and what's with the drag queen? well, you'd have to ask her. it was one of those inside jokes. sometimes i do miss her.

it's a fine line between stupid and crazy

there are few calm days here. with the introduction of the gong into the household, one can only assume that there will be fewer days of calm and more days of mass calamity as the gran massa champ has made a pact (with whom, i'm not sure) to bang the gong each morning at 0704, providing that the temperature inside the house is above freezing. i didn't get up until about 0930 this morning, so it must have been pretty cold.

now a logical person would ask, who brought home a gong and why? and generally, i would say, you're correct, that *is* a logical question and thanks for asking. but here, in the house with rubber walls, there are no logical questions and truly, you should know better than to ask. but i'll answer. yesterday was gran massa's birthday. he's officially entered the land of the upper-twenties and there's no turning back. beyond that, he's kind of having a shitty week, month, what have you and i felt the need to attempt to cheer him up. so when the brothers and i went to target to look for a yard gnome i actually left with a house gong instead.

it is the coolest thing ever. it's one of those things you almost want to buy for yourself but feel stupid doing so, so instead you buy it for someone else that you spend a lot of time with so you can use it too. :) i know, i rock, right? right on.

yesterday i had belated bday lunch with roberto and jorge. i miss them. i'm not that far away but we all have lives to lead and that makes it hard. they totally make me laugh. i had such a good time. we ate lunch and played bongos and gongs and discussed how no one really needs five pounds of valentine candy but no one really wants to turn it away and looked at shoes. we all have an unhealthy shoe addiction; apparently it's genetic.

today i got the results of my fantasy baseball draft. it wasn't bad. i have some tweaks to make but overall i'm pretty pleased. i cannot wait for the beginning of baseball season - it's like it officially marks the beginning of spring and warm days, green grass and allergies, hot dogs and beer. even if it is 20 degrees and snowing at wrigley field. we're only 42 days out, kiddos. that's wonderful.

work. i start work next friday in cid. i have a job. yay me. yay for dollars. because right now, i don't have any. and you know what i'm most excited about? it's not the actual work or travel benefits or interaction with people or anything like that. nope. my boss is fucking hot. OMG. and that one thing that i was sort of worried about, that one thing, with that one guy from that one time? yeah. no worries. not a concern. i so rock.

what else? today i had to take the gran massa champ to the hospital because his toes were numb and white and ice cold. he thought maybe he was having a stroke until the lady at the admissions desk at the er told him how much an er visit cost and then he realised what a stroke really felt like. cuz after that he apparently got well enough to walk out and recover in the car on the way to lunch as he swore about the cost of healthcare and the lack of compassion given by those in the healthcare industry. it would have been kind of funny except his toes were really gross looking. i pulled one of dr. friedgood's tricks and got out the pin and stuck him in the toe. it wasn't nearly as fun as i thought it might be.

ummm... oh yeah. i'm on a drinking sabbatical. i'm pretty sure it's only temporary, until i get a good invitation. but it sounds good.

i think that's it for now. i'm going to go watch the office and check the radar. it's snowing again (surprise fucking surprise) - it only snows when i have somewhere to be in the morning, you know it? ugh.

happy thoughts. 42 days 'til baseball season. spring training. kyle farnsworth. oh my... :D

you hold him down, i'll shoot him with his own bow and arrow...

yay! its 0005, meaning that vd is over and i can move on with my life. a friend turned me on to calling it 'single awareness day' but when you abbreviate that, it's still 'sad.' fuck that.

so. i acted on the previous incident. would you like the grisly details? i guess if you don't, you can just skip to the next section. last night, out and about in the raging metropolis that is east dbq, i was with a group of people that included the gran massa and one of his friends, justine and a couple other people i don't know, which doesn't really mean anything because i only know like five people here and i think four of them hate me. but that's not the point of this.

drinks were consumed. i was sitting by this really interesting fellow who thought i was amazing. at least he didn't talk about my eyes. barf. anyway. more drinks. fun to be had by all. the sad thing is, i don't even remember any of this - i'm telling this story as a collection of stories told to me by innocent bystanders. anyway, as the story goes, horseplay at the bar. my finger, justine's eye. his contact falls out.

his perfectly reasonable response to this?

he hauls off and slaps the holy shit out of me.

no kidding. his hand, the left side of my face, direct fucking contact. i was so fucking shocked i couldn't even move. and then i guess i sort of came to and i heard a bit of a commotion as he was asked to leave. or maybe he volunteered, i'm really not sure.

i know people asked if i was okay. i wasn't, but i wasn't going to admit that. it was more of a blow to my ego at the time. i've never been hit - by a guy - in public like that. so naturally, what do i do? i completely come to my senses and decide i'm going to take him on and anyone else who gets in my way. except he's nowhere to be found and this is prolly a good thing.

i get taken home. i sleep. i get up. i have a knot in my stomach all day. ALL DAY. i haven't eaten. my hands are still shaking. i'm disgusted with the entire situation.

really - what kind of person does that? who does he think he is? what makes it alright for someone to assault me? and honest to god, if i'd been spastic at the mouth or mocking him, i could at least understand it. just a little bit - it wouldn't make it better, but it would *almost* make sense.

so tonight. after my drive to msn and half a cheeseburger and a fish purchase (bruiser, how fucking appropriate), i decided to file a police report. i go to the edbq pd and let them photograph my face and this nice blue streak along my jaw about 47 different ways.i have to fill out paperwork. i have to write a formal statement. i have to actually write the statement, 'i am filing this complaint because justine assaulted me. i would like him prosecuted for this action.'

humiliating.

so where does this go from here? investigation (their words, not mine. it's csi: edbq!), paperwork, warrant. look out buddy. :)

i'm tired and i need to ice my face. do we have any peas?

welcome to town. friend count: -5

i've suffered a setback. my ego - etc. - is bruised and i'm not sure how to handle my reaction. ideally, i'd like to murder this motherfucker but the six percent of me that's rational from time to time knows that's not the best solution. but i'm not sure of the right way to handle this. what kind of person does that, really? was he raised by wolves? aliens? gorillas? sloths? assholes? all of the above, none of the above? any harm inflicted by me certainly was not intentional, especially given my state of mind at the time, but i guess that's how some people handle that sort of situation. i still find it to be an asinine reaction to what can honestly be coined an accident. which is why i won't find myself in that particular situation with that particular person again. and honestly, it's not the act that has me so upset, although that's pretty upsetting. what is eating at me is was the fact that there was no one there for me, to defend me, to fight for me. i was alone. and that's the way that it's going to be from now on. that's what i'm having trouble dealing with. but i guess if i had someone to look out for me i probably wouldn't have been in this less-than-desirable locale to begin with, would i?

so today my mind just wandered. i talked on the phone for hours with libbeth, which was wonderful, but i've only retained bits and pieces of the conversation. i probably should have gotten out of town when i had the chance - i have a feeling the drama-meter will be astronomical around here the next few days. and i'm just nausesous about the entire thing. so today i, once i found my car, just drove. for hours. i ended up about 100 miles away, in wisconsin (of all places, really), in gridlock traffic, which i found frustrating and calming all at the same time. and then when i got tired, i just turned around and came home. my mind is still racing and i can't put it to bed. i'm just not sure of what to do here. actually, i'm not sure what i'm doing here. this is a miserable city full of bitter and miserable people. i'm four weeks into this project and i'm already considering making a countdown calendar to the day i can get out.

happy fucking valentine's day, eh?

ugh.

editor's note: i don't generally edit a post once it's published, it sort of defeats the purpose. but i need to clarify that this was not a direct threat of any sort, this was me sorting out my anger. i can't even kill spiders. thank you for reading. and now back to our regularly scheduled programming...

question: did my shoes come off in the plane crash?

as i'm sure you've gathered, it snowed again today. in some way, measureable or not, it has snowed every day since i moved to this god forsaken city. i think it will snow all the way up until july, when we will be blessed with 17 216-degree days, after which it will begin to snow again. the glory of living in god's country, yes?

to celebrate the fact that it was cold and i was cold and there was no getting warm no matter what, i made snow angels in the yard today. well, do let me clarify. our backyard lies at a small angle. so, when i thought i was just walking along, i actually sank into a snow drift that's about 10 inches deep. so my first snow angel actually fell on her ass, all completely-ungraceful like. once i recovered from that and pulled some of the snow out of my pants, i then made a real snow angel. but the angle of the back yard makes it hard to get up. so it looks like my beautiful snow angel actually crapped her pants. but whatever. but because there was no way to take pictures of this event, and it was such fun it needed to be documented, i have drawn you a picture. much like simon, the small boy in the bathtub, these are high quality "drarings" indeed.

look....

that's my house. and those aren't real bars on the window, but i wish they were, to keep the neighborhood ruffian children at bay. look at the angle of the yard. it's no wonder this little snow angel can't keep her footing (and no, she hadn't been drinking, it was barely noon.) - it drops off, like a little mini cliff in the backyard. no, not really, it just makes for a better story. see the snow blowing around? look at the detail in my hair? and i'm wearing that obnoxiously green coat (but it is warm) and my snowboots (one of which is sliding down my foot and filling with snow).

my little snow adventure lasted about 11 minutes before i had to come in and take a really hot - like scalding hot - shower. it's really freakin' cold outside, sister. brrr.

i am a kick ass artist, don't you think? i can print you a copy of this picture and sign it and mail it to you, if you'd like. for a small fee. :D

that's all i want to talk about right now.

it's okay, really.

i didn't want to go anywhere this week. c'mon. keep fucking snowing. i really wanted to stay home all week and not visit anyone.

I LOVE SNOW. BRING IT ON.

(reverse psychology is an awesome tool, i don't know if you guys have heard of it, but basically you can make someone think the opposite of what you believe, and that tricks them into doing something stupid. works like a charm.)

michael scott in '08.

word.

this gets real old. real fast.

Badgers (Badger, badger, badger, badger. Mushroom, mushroom! Snake!)

five minutes, tops. then you'll want to kill me. :)

no more weekends at bernie's.

well, i'm one fish down. he wasn't dead but he was on his way. poor bernie. the gran massa spooned him out with a pasta spoon - the remainder of my fish will forever fear spaghetti night in east dbq - and flushed him.

this is the reenactment:

i can only hope that bernie didn't face this creepy-ass grin in his last moments. if i'd have had a trumpet, i'd have played taps. poor lil' fishie. :(

but then i had a turkey sandwich and now i'm better. when i get back from where ever i end up going this week, i'll get another fish for my tank. i only have four and i have a serious dislike for even numbers.

X1/2... no hpn today, kiddos.

fucking snow. i hate winter. actually, i don't hate winter. i just hate winter when it gets in the way of the things that i want to do. like see my friends. it was all set up that i was heading out first thing monday morning to go to hpn to see sue and dolly. well, not anymore. the snow is creating a major headache for moi and sue's regional manager is staying right down the hall from her and the entire tdy crew has been warned not to allow freeloaders (such as me, but not specifically named) in their rooms. rude! so she wants to test the water before she gets the party reputation, which honestly i'm sort of surprised she doesn't already have. has my sue undergone a serious attitude adjustment? are the days of danger and trouble long gone?

so tuesday is the plan now, but if it gets anymore complex and resorts to sneaking me in and out of a hotel, i may just say fuck it and head to charlotte where i can have my own room and not have to share a bed with a woman who snores like a dying water buffalo. we'll just have to see.

in the meantime, this is just further proof that i should have done my homework. because now i have to go to school tomorrow night.

piss.

dude, this is hot.

i want his shoes.

wah, wah, wah... bundt pan

sometimes mixing friends and family is bad. i mean, i've heard people talk about how their parents hate their friends or vice versa and any interaction ends in verbal warfare or bloodshed. see, i've never really had that experience. well, not since the sixth grade the time my grandma attacked alyssa king with a lint roller because the chick was covered in cat hair and gram wasn't about to let her sit at the dinner table looking all hairy and gorilla like. but anyway. i've never really had that experience. my friends all love my mother. they always say things like, 'i wish my own mom could be like that.' and i'm all, 'like what?' and they all say the same thing here: 'i don't know. like that.'

friday, yesterday, momma and markus came up to see my new abode (a word that makes me think of alyssa king...always) and school and city and me and celebrate the fact that i am thirty minus three. they took me and the grand massa champ to dinner at a local mexican eatery. i guess to understand things fully, you're going to need a little bit of background. let me give you a 13-second update, just to get you all sorts of caught up. one: the gran massa champ is gay. we're all aware of this; this is not anything new. two: markus believes that he is cute enough that not only gay men want him, but all straight men do too. three: markus has a very quick wit, a sharp tongue. people either get him right off the bat or they never understand him. mumbling doesn't help. so, these factors plus margaritas make for an interesting evening.

you know, i don't even remember how the actual exchange started. i don't even know where it came from. but it ended with the gran massa asking markus to go camping. and i've known markus for almost 15 years. but the look on his face was priceless - not to mention the fact that his steak fajita just about fell out of his mouth (which if you know markus at all - that never happens). his quick-witted comeback, after about 15 seconds?

'i saw deliverance.'

i have never laughed so hard in my entire life. this was funnier than anything i have ever seen. i choked on chips and salsa and margarita and snotted on my coat and my drink and my shirt. i was in tears. OMG.

so. what else is new? i am addicted to lily allen, almost in a bad way. she's adorable. i want to talk out of the side of my mouth and say men'al health. fun.



i bought a new fishtank. it was a steal of a deal. ha. i got two new fish, too. bernadette and otto. i can't decide if bernadette is dead or just lazy. she's a celestial eye goldfish, and she was lazy in the tank at the fish store, but there was a bit of an accident with the fish on the way home. i'm okay, uugof's okay, but i had to brake really fast to avoid hitting this dumb bitch from (of all places) WISCONSIN (i swear those people can't drive) in a white grand prix and the fish bag slid off the passenger seat and on to the floor at sixty miles an hour. fish don't have airbags and i didn't think to use their seatbelt. i know. i'm a bad fish mom. :( so i don't know. i'll give her a few more hours and then go poking around and see if she's dead. but yesterday i thought she was a blackhawk down and then she just perked up. so i don't know. my first fish death will traumatic, i'm sure.

last night i got up at the ASS CRACK of dawn - fuck, it wasn't even dawn, it was the middle of the fucking night - to drive the roommate to work. now you're probably saying, 'that was nice, why are you complaining? that couldn't have taken that long.' well, you don't even know so shut up and let me finish. the gran massa champ doesn't work in this city. he doesn't even work in this county. he works 8 counties away - he works in dsm. that's a three hour drive. (...just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip...that started from this tropic port, aboard this tiny ship...). i got back into town in time to eat breakfast with momma and markus (where no food fell out of his mouth) and then i went to bed at like 1100 and didn't get up until 1800. i'm not going to sleep tonight. which is too bad. that also means that i didn't make it to the laundromat - and i'm not going at night because that place is scary enough during the day. so i'll have to find other things to do tonight.

okay. i'm bored. peas out for now.
love, superfreakinwhydon'twehaveanym&msjanel

the new object of my affections...

this is daisuke matsuzaka, the new right-handed pitcher for the red sox. two words: yum-my. i want to *know* him. i mean, he's no kyle farnsworth, but still... :D

only 51 days. hell yes.

it's a small world after all...

it's a funny thing when you realise that your lives are more enmeshed with those of your friends than you first thought. it's like six degrees of kevin bacon, but on a far more local and ...ahem... personal scale and in my house. weird. but not vomit inducing. it wasn't directly making out with my friend, it was making out by proxy. this kind of stuff only happens to me, i swear to god. really.

last night was my birthday celebration. the gran massa champ and i went out for yummy bday pizza and birthday drinks. birthday drinks everywhere. i can't always find the walmart but i can always find the bar. lol. i'm slowly but surely becoming an alcoholic. i don't remember if that was our third or fourth night out in a row but at that point it probably doesn't matter much, does it? my stomach is developing a strong iron coating and i don't know if i need to be proud of this or if i need to be afraid. but i feel fine today. granted, i didn't wake up until 1100 but i still feel really good. i'm going to go eat cold pizza here in a little bit.

shit. i need a job.

this is a new one.

i just got spammed by jesus. the subject line was "and on the tabernacle of the city, bring me a lamb." wow. i've not been spammed by the holy one himself before. i guess that means we're all sitting pretty well if jesus has time to send out spam? or do you think he has someone to help him out with that?

i want my boss to do this.

can't you see the godfather rapping?

it was kathy bates for me.

this is the house that beetlejuice built. the doors all have two inch gaps underneath, at some point, it's two and a half inches, at some points it's three. all the doorways are cockeyed, making it impossible to move a sofa. i'm not sure what happened here, perhaps half of the house sank. i don't think we live on top of a sinkhole but i guess it's likely. i always heard that illinois was susceptible to sinkholes but i didn't see any in the neighborhood. just like the level of crime, i don't think that's something our landlord would tell us about.

anyway - the gaps under the doors. there are gaps under all the doors, bathroom doors included. now you have to know that the cats find closed doors quite offensive - they don't like it when you shut them out of anything. so this morning, and every morning and every time i'm in the bathroom i shut the door (you're welcome), and every time, i'm greeted to cat paws and cat faces in the gap under the door. it cracks me up. big kitty isn't small enough to wedge his entire head in the gap, but he can reach pretty far. lil kitty can squeeze about half her body under the door before she gets stuck and i have to rescue her. she's retarded. this was my early (0900) morning comedy.

yesterday was new fish day. her name was harriet but she kind of looks like a pirate so i changed her name to petey. a girl named petey, i know, i'm stupid. whatever. shit, they're prolly all girls. she's a little hyper for this teenie-weenie tank. she annoys adolf and roger with her childish antics. that's why i like her. i'm going to have to spend my birthday dollars on a new fish home. which means that i can have another fish for my lil fishie tank. yay me. :D

the music in the house is getting more light hearted. are things looking up? maybe.

my mom wrote the most amazing blog about me. it made me cry. but in a good way. they're coming up for dinner and stuff on friday. i need to clean. i'm the only one in the house that's able. lol.

what am i going to do today? i have no idea. i'm waiting on the ups man. he's bringing me a box from my father. i need to go to the post office and do some other dumb stuff.

busy now. toodles, lovelies.

happy bday to me, happy bday to me...

it's my birthday. i'm now officially 27. it's interesting to consider the differences in where i am now compared to where i was a year ago. and i don't mean geographically. but my mood is too good to dwell on that crap now. mentally, i'm in a better place than i was a year ago and that's what matters.

next week, assuming i still don't have a job, i'm going to new york for a couple days to catch up with mrs robinson and the doll. then i'm going to head to charlotte to see libbeth and the kids. i think that's a good birthday present from me to me. and then when i get home i'm going to have to get a job. because being cute is great but i can't figure out a way for it to pay the bills.

i'm tired. and full of mushroom soup. i'll talk more in the a.m.

love, superfreakinhappybirthdayjanel

it's not gay. cuz it's my own mouth.

he does do a nice tree. lol.

but this makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

i want this job.

only 54 days, baby. rock.

pitchers♥ and catchers report to spring training in nine days.

it's so cold, they've shut down dbq.

i'm not joking. they've shut down like all of dbq's 113 colleges. except for mine. i still have to go to school. but all those other lucky bastards that attend the other 112 schools in town - they get a day off. it's a conspiracy, of jfk proportions, i tell you. it's a plot, against me, to get me to freeze my (conclave) ass off tonight when i have to go to school. hehehehe...

want to talk about school? okay, let's do. so last night i did my homework. (my mom is reading this and she's letting out a sigh of relief. 'my daughter is a procrastinator but not a complete slacker...') and it was good. i did exactly what was asked of me and i produced an outline that brought tears to my ears. i mean eyes. this is for two reasons: one, it was late and the reading was boring and i was bored and i wanted to be finished; and two, it was a nice piece of work, if i do say so myself. (excuse me, i need to do self high five.) so i emailed it to my partner, because apparently in the mac program which is modeled after the 'real' world, we have to work with partners - no project or thought is completed alone. anyway. i emailed it to my partner so she'll merge it with her outline, which i'm sure is inferior and incomplete, because no one is as smart as me and no one will ever be as smart as me and i've long resigned to this fact.

but i digress. this morning i wake up, on my own schedule and not by my crazy landlord, thank you, and go through my morning routine: pee, logon, check my myspace and my email. ooh! partner has already merged our outlines. there may be hope for her yet. so what do i find upon opening this document? a fucking mess. she slaughtered my outline. completely and totally. this snarky little beast trashed three hours of my work and my words. i just about choked. i'm kind of pissed except it won't do me any good to rant to her about it - it's a little too late to make many changes now. so tonight when we present i'll read from my outline while holding ours. and then maybe i'll trip her after class.

things to do. toodles, lovelies.

i hate peyton manning.

i have a lot of respect for tony dungy. but peyton manning is a big whiny sucky baby. and now that he's won a super bowl, la-de-fucking-da, i'm going to have to put up with seeing his ugly buck tooth mug all over everywhere. i'm not okay with this.

look at him. smug bastard. i say no more. i say we stand strong and boycott. for no other reason than because he already has more money than god and he's already in like 59 percent of all television commercials. this is going to get ugly folks. but we have the power to stop it.

and i'm not even an over the top bears fan. i say go 'boys. but i tend to root for the underdogs and there are no bigger underdogs than the chicago bizzears. plus i think lovie smith is just an all around swell guy.

in other news...


somewhere, under this pile of boxes is the gran massa champ's bed. i'm not sure where. unpack your shit, man. i'm tired of looking at it. ugh.

i still have homework to do. toodles!

hi janice

in honor of the super bowl - go bears - here is one of the janel's all time favorite commercials. i wish i had 10 terry tates.



it makes me laugh so hard my uterus could fall out.

i can categorically say you are not a bigger bananahead.

my brother's couch was comfortable but nothing is as comfortable as my bed. i love my bed. i love my comforter and my sheets and my pillows and my blankets. my cats are currently making me crazy but i think that's because they missed me and they had to spend time with the roommate if they wanted any human attention. not that that's such a bad thing, but he plays a little rough with the kitties - he's a dog person more than a cat person and he sort of freaks them out. ha. some days he sort of freaks me out, no lie. but whatever.

only three days until i'm officially thirty minus three. icky. i love birthdays but i think they were more fun when i was a kid and they involved lots of cake and ice cream and slumber parties and roller rinks and board games and horror movies and truth or dare and 11 screaming girls in the basement of my house and my mom threatening to use benadryl to shut us up if we didn't go to sleep. now, birthdays are just friends that want to take me out and feed me drinks, which is not birthday specific but not necessarily unappreciated. but since 99.9 percent of my friends live hours from me, i have to figure out how to get my stupid ass back home or find a place to sleep it off. and then it just becomes a chore. so this week i'm considering traveling - as my benefits have not been taken away just yet - to see a couple of friends doing tdy. so we can all drink until we're retarded in a new city and then crash at the hotel. that sounds like birthday fun to me. :)

as long as i'm back early enough on friday to clean house and prepare for my parents weekend visit. i don't think roommate is much in the cleaning department. or the unpacking department. i'm tired of looking at boxes. i'm going to put all his unpacked boxes on his bed today. that will be fun. hehehe...

i wish itunes would ask me a couple more times if i'm really sure i want to purchase a song before they download it for me. right now, they ask, 'are you sure?' and that's it. when i say yes, it's all, BANG. download city. i want them to say, 'are you really sure?' and then 'are you really, really sure?' and then 'are you really fucking sure?' because this week i spent an awful amount of dollars on itunes and i didn't even realise i was doing it because it's just too easy. yes, click, yes, click, yes, click. OMG. i spent how much? and they don't take returns.

things to do. i've been putting off homework for like two weeks now. old habits die hard.

back off.

this is my horoscope (gah!) for today. i say all y'all just need to back off and let the jobs come to the janel... ahh, yes, the jobs will come...

If you have made some strong resolutions lately, most notably concerning your professional life, wait a little bit before putting them into action, Janelle. Your resolutions may have been made when you were in a panic and not when you were feeling particularly wise. Take the time to look over your objectives. Contrary to what people may have been advising, there is no need for you to be in a hurry...

what's with today today?

i had a long, beautiful eloquent post written. but ie crashed and took my unpublished post with it. fucking whores. so rather than rewrite the entire thing, because 1) words of such a poetic nature could never be rewritten and 2) i don't really remember everything i wrote about, i'll just give you a highlights paragraph and go from there...

• it's fucking cold.
• i'm fucking cold.
• it's fucking cold outside.
• it's fucking cold inside too.
• it's not going to warm up any time soon.
• i hate winter.
• my brother's sofa is absolutely hideous.
• but it's really comfy.
• i slept well.
• no naps behind the country kitchen for me today. :)
• and i didn't stab him.
• i don't even know what a shank is.
• my nose ring doesn't hurt today.
• and it's fucking cold.

i think that about covers it. there was some other stuff too, some whining about work and blah, blah, blah, but that's pretty typical and i can dish that shit out anytime, anywhere.

going on 1400. only one more hour of work and then i'm going shopping. shopping warms the soul, doesn't it? maybe that was soup. shit, i don't know. i have an asston of homework to do and i'm not going to get it done until absolute last minute because that's how i roll.

word.

i wore my starfish shoes the other day and my toe's all still broken, right? yeah, not a good idea. but my feet looked really cute. never mind that i couldn't walk upright, i was limping so bad. my shoes were cute and that's the main idea.

i have a friend that wants to set me up. i don't know if this is a good idea. ugh. i'm just now getting over my last blind date... that was about seven years ago.

61 minutes until shopping. 56 days until opening day. rock.

peas out.

love, superfreakinshortattentionspanjanel

i love jesus but i drink a little.

omg. hilarious.

not everything i say is nice.

this is an easy concept. really. if you don't like my opinion, stop asking for it. if you don't like my outlook, stop asking what i think. stop asking for my advice, what i think, how i interpret this particular conversation, line, what have you - because you're not listening anyway and anything that i have to say is obviously not relevant nor useful. i have never wasted so much time or breath as i have in the last 120 hours. but. it's not my life, decision, or my lack of self respect that i have to face each and every morning. see, i'm not any one's bitch and that's a nice feeling. maybe someday you'll be able to relate.

and that's all i'm going to say about that.

get off my property, you bastard

ahh. job # only. it's that time of the week where i pretend to be among the ranks of the employed. except this week i'm pretending to be employed for two days instead of my usual one so this is extra taxing on the janel. (i love talking about myself in the third person.)

i'm already tired. i was up at the ass crack of the ass crack of pre-dawn this morning. it was fucking early, kiddos. there was a full moon - it was beautiful, reflecting off the clouds and the snow, it almost seemed like daylight, only darker. i was so tired i stopped and slept for half an hour behind the country kitchen in newton. i just couldn't keep my eyes awake. and i woke up starving for pancakes. the janel is always hungry for pancakes. always.

i'm in the midst of a heated debate: are goldfish really supposed to eat oranges? they certainly like them. the research i have conducted leads me to believe that goldfish will eat just about anything that's placed in their tank, including bananas and peas and shrimpies. weird, huh? who knew goldfish were cannibalistic?

so right now, its going on 1730 and there are people here trying to buy a car. at 1730. that's closing time, dickheads. i have places to be. compound that with the fact that i've missed my 1600 feeding time and i'm none to happy to be working at this moment. grrr... i'm supposed to be on my way to the dutch village for mexican and margaritas (well, i may be the only one drinking margaritas, i'm not sure) with the fam. good times are to be had by all. or at least by me. i'm going to have the one that's as big as my head. with two straws. mango if they have it. yum. bring on the salsa, bitches. i wonder how you say that in espanola.

no, not really. i really don't care. i'm just hungry. hurry this shit up.

ba-dum-bum-bum

only six days until my birthday. not planning anything spectacular. i'm going to be 27. that's 30 minus three. ugh. it's on a wednesday. what a dumb day for a birthday. that's okay. i still love my birthday. 07feb. i expect gifts. or at least good birthday wishes. :)

i went to the laundromat today. that's an experience. i used to think that it was expensive - paying to wash and dry my clothes. but i've realised that i'm paying to use not just the facilities, i'm paying for the visceral experience of being at the laundromat with some of dbq's finest. there was a middle aged retarded man washing his scooby doo bed sheets and comforter. several college age people with lots of smelly clothes. business people on lunch. mothers with small children. a hawaiian couple in flip flops and shorts - it was 8 degrees today. many people talk to themselves as they do laundry; is laundry a lonely activity or does the laundromat just bring out the crazy in all of us? i'm not sure. i just wash and dry and fold and get the hell out of dodge without laughing too loud.

at the insistance of the gran massa champ, i watched amélie today. i think we all remember what happened the last time i took roomie up on a cinematic recommendation? right. anyway. amélie was quite enjoyable. it's a wonderful story and very well acted with an incredible soundtrack - and it leaves you feeling so incredibly happy, it's just bizaare. slowly, he's redeeming himself from the tragedy that was kill bill vol. two.

i know i said i wasn't going to do it. i'm still not sure why i did. i got my nose pierced. again. i know. i like it. i'm a sucker. i could have had a nice tattoo for what i've spent on putting holes in my nose. but this time i'll be more careful. i swear.

i have to be up early. dbq to pella to chariton. ugh. sleepytime for me.