steve, let's go drinking...

similar to drinking with the janel...

no, literally. fruit flies.

last week, me and the roomie went to moline and ate free pizza. and then we bought fruit. four pieces of fruit. two star fruit and two mangoes. (mangoes? mangos? i think its mangoes... wtf. anyway...) when i brought said bag of fruit in the house, there were only three pieces of fruit.

i thought maybe the gran massa was hungry for a mango. whatever. i don't care.

i mean, they did look pretty good.

and everybody wants the mango, even j.lo. check that shit out. wait, that's not the right mango.

so i asked him. and he's all, nope, i may be a fruit, but i didn't eat any.

hmmm....

that means that there's a lone mango rolling around somewhere in my car.


so now i'm a little concerned. pretty soon, this mango isn't going to smell very good. it's going to get all smooshy and soft and like melt in my car (kind of like m&m's, which don't melt in your hand, but melt in your car, isn't that how the saying goes? no? well piss...) and then i'm going to have fruit flies.

in ugoff.

now i realize that i'm not an avid car washer/vacuumer/cleaner/accident-avoider (hehehe...), but i don't want a car full of fruit flies.

this is unacceptable, private pyle.

unacceptable.

i'm thinking i should call that cop from two weeks ago and be like, you found my white hot tizzies cd and my mom's beer bottle - can you do me a favor and find my missing fruit?

no? such is the mango...

i couldn't tell a difference.

this cracks me up.

i'm in love with demetri martin...

*sigh*

in the dark when there's no one listening...

today on my way to work, i passed a maroon cutlass supreme filled to the brim with senior citizens. (if you're on the up and up with pop culture, you'd have said sanka. do you remember those commercials? i must have watched a lot of television as a child. but anyway.) this car must have had eight old people in it, crazy full. crazy wack funky, it was.

old ladies, old men. all laughing and carrying on. all wearing hats with giant brims and sunglasses and scarves, windows down, living it up like they were teenagers. the rearview mirror was hanging from the windshield at an angle that was impossible to see out of.

i don't know if they were high or if the car was full of carbon monoxide, but it made me smile. well, it made me smile after i swore at them to get the hell out of my way, crazy old fuckers. and then i smiled. because they were obviously quite happy.

if i make it to senior citizen-ship, i want to be that happy. or oblivious. or high. whatever. it was pretty stinkin' cute.

although i don't understand the sunglasses. it was pouring down rain all afternoon. maybe they were blind... ?

work has been crazy. dfw has been blasted with bad weather the last couple of days and that is seriously ganking my chi. ugh. don't they know i just want to go to work and do as little as possible? seriously. stress is not good for my complexion.

monday, the gran massa and i, and possibly baxter, if he concedes to a couple days off from work/getting up at the ass crack of dawn, are driving to canada. why? what's so exciting about canada? nothing. except i've never been out of the country and i'm going to photodocument my trip across the border.

that, and i fully expect to find terrance and philip from south park waiting for me on the other side of the border. cold air, customs agents, and terrance and philip, in that order. i even have a picture of what this event will look like.see? that's me, in the background. it's obviously quite windy in canada, because my hair is all zinged out. and i'm not dressed, i'm not sure why. i guess nude is the new black up there, but don't hold me to it. and since you can see that i'm nude, i'm obviously quite tan, which is a little far from the truth, currently since i'm pretty much clear. maybe that's a picture of some other naked frizzy haired chick named superjanel... hmm. i'll have to look into that.

i guess we're driving up, going to mc donald's or something and driving back. yay for 16 hours in a car. :) it's possible that only one of us will return... hehehe...

i'm kind of tired. i think i'm going to go to bed now.

a little something just to take off the edge...

i took a quiz today. you know, one of those personality tests. i love those things. everybody loves talking about themselves. (not everyone loves "photo day" but generally most everyone loves talking about themselves...)

this was the result of my quiz:

ENFP - "Journalist". Uncanny sense of the motivations of others. Life is an exciting drama. 8.1% of total population.

but what does that mean? so i found this and this. and now i know. interesting stuff, eh?

prolly more than you ever wanted to know about the superjanel, and to that i say pshaw. :)

i'm not a failure!

i just remembered!

i gave up drinking AND arby's for lent.

and to date, i still haven't had arby's.

there's still a chance...

you don't know what you mean to me and i don't know how to help you.

there's someone in my life that's operating at mach two and not wearing her seat belt. i love her. she means the world to me. i see more of me in her than i can explain. and i fear for her safety. i know where she's coming from and yet i don't know how to stop her. i don't have the words; even though i have the experience, i can't seem to put it into a context to help her understand.

of all the times for me to lose my voice...

i don't know if relating my personal experience will help or will only give her the tools to succeed. i want to take her by the shoulders and shake her until she understands what she's doing.

i take this as a personal affront. don't you understand? didn't you learn anything by watching me fail? by watching me stumble? don't you know that this can be literally the beginning of the end and sometimes there is no one there to rescue you, to save you, to make things okay? sometimes no one can make this right, no matter how loud you shout, no matter how loud you scream.

and then you're left with the chaos you've created and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

i don't think this is how you want things to end. i really don't.

i know you're sad. i know you're angry. and most of all, i know you don't understand what's happening to you and why you feel the way you feel.

but this is not the answer. please trust me on this.

i replay the last evening we spent together in my mind, and i don't think there was anything i could have said or done differently. i don't think there was anything i missed, any signs, any clues. and yet i feel an incredible amount of guilt, which is somewhat silly, i realize. but i can't help it. i feel like there is some pressure on me to see the signs and pick up on the clues, no matter how small they may be.

but if they were there, i missed them. and i'm sorry.

i just wish you'd tell me what i can do to help. tell me what you need. tell me what you want.

i'm here for you. any time, any place, any thing.

you truly don't understand what you mean to me.

i love you.

somebody stop me.

baxter, if you're reading, consider yourself lucky. you've never been drunk dialed, or at least not by me. generally by now it's a weekly occurrence and one that i have to apologise for.

i don't know if i'm apologising for not calling or not drunk dialing. i'd love to call you and tell you what i really think and what i really want, but my conscience won't let me. trust me, you'd love to talk about what i really want...

i like to think i'm too strong, too good, too smart for that.

i don't know if that's the case. maybe it's just pride, maybe i'm just shy...

me? shy?

whatever. shut your mouth, you dirty pirate hooker.

oh well. but i would have like to have talked to you this evening. really, i was going to call you. but my roller rink/driving/drinking plans got in the way. and, not that i have to explain, but those events are all independent of one another, by the way. :P i don't believe in drinking and driving, or driving and roller skating, or drinking and roller skating, LOL! because if i lost my license the gran massa and i would have to sit here all the time and look at each other.

and that would suck.

by the way...

joel isn't anything to worry about. if anything, he's only going to teach me to reduce my road rage. which only makes me more safe to ride with if we should ever meet. and that may not ever happen now, i don't know...

and he's not nearly as cute as you are. :) so if you're still up for a couple days after easter, so am i. (you don't have any idea...) but this isn't really the place for this conversation. i'll call you tomorrow. once i recover from my current state. i need a few hours. maybe more.

i'm not doing so well. at the moment. i feel like a small failure. and technically, i'm not even catholic! omg....

my lips are numb. that's not a good sign... hehehe... unless, well... nevermind. :)

and i think i said i'd sleep with somebody named irene. i was half-joking. LOL. but she is kind of hot.

and something about hair-pulling and biting. but i don't think that related to irene... well...

oh dear...

ps. i'm not even catholic. don't judge me.

love,
me and my sam hill's whore shots. YUM. i love me some pickles...

gnite.

muah!

i swear that's it.

toodles, dolls.

lovelies!

amy, it was great to finally meet you. we should party on your kid-less days.... :)

do you think i talk too much?

i know, i know.

drinking + blogging = dangerous territory.

if i've said it once, i've said it a bazillion and twelve times. "i'm not going to do that again..." yeah, that works out real well...

oh well.

work, schmork. i went, i conquered, i ROCKed that place. and now i'm going to go rock the laundrymat because that's how i roll.

i just like to roll in clean clothes, as opposed to dirty ones. so i'm taking my quarters, my powerade, my nichole ritchie best selling "novel" and my dirty grundies and i'm OUT.

love,
superfreakindoesn'tknowwhentoshutupjanel

my roommate is trying to kill me...

i've had a good couple of days.

yesterday i went to the qc (not to be confused with the oc) and spent time with the fam, being a friend to my lil cuz. i remember being a confused 16-year-old, but i don't remember my driver's ed teacher being so hot.

his name is joel. OMG. i've put in a request for private driving lessons...

but i had a good time. we shopped, we browsed, we swapped belly button rings in the parking lot, we ate at the ihop, we shared boy stories and war stories - she's amazing.

i just wish she knew it.

today was fun. gran massa and i went mushroom hunting. that lasted for all of about 17 minutes and then he got frustrated because he's never found a mushroom (or at least never found a mushroom and not stepped on it). so then we went mountain climbing.

i'm not kidding. we went climbing up the side of a damn mountain.

in dbq.

up like thousands of feet and then across the side of a miniature freakin' grand canyon and then down the side of a canyon. this bitch was not happy about this at all, especially when the "trail" ended like 7 feet from the driver's side of my car.

i truly think he was trying to kill me. because more than once i looked down and about hyperventilated myself off the side of a mountain. holy crizzap, boys and girls. superjanel does not do well with heights. unless it's in airplanes or helicopters or other contained objects. like tall buildings. anyway. that picture? that's the grand massa showing me how to get down the side of a mountain. yeah, um, i don't do so well on mountains.

you know, if he wants the damn fishtanks that bad, he should just ask. it's a whole lot cleaner than taking me up a damn mountain and watching my stupid ass fall off.

ugh.

i never should have written a will.

so much for lent. i gave that up this evening. i wish there were perfect baseball-playing driver's ed teaching boys and roller rinks in dbq. unfortunately, all the boys are gay or taken and the roller rinks close at supper time. such is my life. so i took up again and finished this morning. it feels good. i'm back to myself and back to normal... ?... yeah, i'm not sure. :)

i talk too much when i'm drunk. i wish people listened less. thank god i didn't drink and dial.

i should go to bed. i have nightmares of mountain climbing and dreams of baseball players with fantasmical shoulders to tend to.

hope your night is as superb as mine has been...

love,
superfreakinnotsogreatatlentjanel

you gave me too much room so i filled it up with chairs...

it was amazing today. it was a little on the windy side, but it was gorgeous. the kind of day where you don't really want to work, and you'd rather spend the day outside, not really doing anything, just enjoying the sunshine and the blue sky and the warmth.

i don't work ramp. and i even went outside today.

it was that nice.

and the sunset was great.

i couldn't focus on work. my mind was other places today. i don't know why. i didn't sleep very well last night; it was that restless kind of sleep where you're just seconds away from waking up all night long. do you know what i'm talking about? but i don't think that had anything to do with my lack of concentration today. sometimes i seriously think i suffer from attention deficit disorder.... and then other times i think i'm just a hypochondriac. :)

so today i think i got the first obligatory phone call. yeah, i'm not digging that. call because you want to, not because you know i want you to. there's a big difference there and i can sense it. i'm beginning to wonder if this little trip is such a good idea. ever since the topic was brought up, conversation has basically ceased. hmmm... conincidence? prolly not. so i guess if i ever get (or make) another non-obligatory phone call, this will have to be discussed. because i'm not making a trip under such ... conditions.

the thing is, i do this every time. i hold back, i pretend i'm not interested. and then when i finally decide it's okay to be interested and it's okay to be me, i've missed the window of opportunity.

que sera, sera, eh?

meh.

the doll is making plans. again. as she's finished with beauty school, i don't know what her excuse for not going will end up being this time. we're talking cun or sju late in april - sunshine and beaches and tropical drinks, all inclusive. this time, i'll sell my left kidney for such a trip. i've been so good lately, i deserve it. i'm already wondering where my slippas are...

and lent will be over... (you're not even catholic! i can hear nigel already...)

oh, tomorrow is my saturday, how i love my 'saturdays'. and i have things to do! people to see! i'm kind of excited! it's a mini road trip, it's not canada or anything, but it's out of town and that's always nice. and it's not even out of town to go to work, that's even better. :) i'm going to go see my aunt and my cousins. and i have to register my car in this god forsaken state and get a new license. which means i have to find my passport and my social security card and another form of id. and i have stuff to mail and i want to get a haircut, but that's prolly for another day because i can't bear the thought of cheating on my lovely courtney at bella...

i fear change. and i used to be so organised. what the hell happened to me?

i'm making friends at work and i find that i enjoy the company of one coworker immensely. i just wish i could change his name... if we're ever going to hang out outside of work, i'm going to have to call him by something else. that name just isn't going to cut it...

tonight on my way home i rediscovered the band belly. do you remember them? early 90s, kind of indie, alt-country-pop. i loved it then, i loved it now. some things never change.

[insert catchy title here]

i'm at work. we don't have any planes for another hour. and so i sit. i'm mentally preparing for the assload of bags that is due to arrive any time, via truck, from ord. i work for an airline - and our bags are arriving by truck. do you see the problem here? there's a big difference between planes and trucks, namely wings and wheels.

i love ord. more than words can describe. it's the end all, be all of airports in this country. and i am at its mercy more often than not, tonight included.

boys and girls, that's called sarcasm. i told you to google it last time. by now, dear reader, you should be well versed.

i didn't get my phone call last night. i was sort of bummed. i realise that my phone dials out, but i wasn't going to call that late last night. i don't like calling that late, i feel bad. so i called today and left a message; i told him i'd call tonight after work. and then i said maybe i won't.

remember that scene in 'along came polly' where polly leaves ruben the voicemail and she's like 'maybe i'll see you there. or not. i don't even know if i'm going. whatever. goodbye.' my message was sort of reminiscent of that. i laughed when i was done talking. lol...

ugh. work. i should go pretend to care for a while...

foggy nights and girl scout cookies

because i was up at an unholy hour (for me, anyway), i'm treating myself to a special breakfast of girl scout cookies and apple juice. this is truly the breakfast of champions. my day will be fantasmical because of this, i'm sure. :)

gran massa was driving to dsm this morning after oversleeping and apparently had no one to talk to so he called and woke me up at 0701, which means that he purposely waited until the clock rolled over 0700 so as not to be considered rude. and that's fine, i really don't mind. seeing 0700 is prolly good for me - not on a regular basis, but every now and then.

i think it's funny, because when i'm driving, i do the same thing. i play that game with myself, 'how long can i hold out and not talk to anyone?' and generally it's not very long because i can't stand the sound of silence, i can't bear the sound of nothingness. i require noise all day, every day. even at night. i sleep with a fan on, year round, because i like the air and i like the whirring noise. and my fishtank has been wonderful in that aspect, although every now and then i have that dream where i've peed the bed and i wake up all stressed and worried and in fact i haven't peed the bed, it's just the sound of water gurgling in the fishtank.

last night on my way home it was incredibly foggy, the kind of fog where you can't see anything in front of your headlights and everything just disappears behind you. it's an eerie feeling, driving in conditions like that, but i kind of like it. i feel as though i'm the only person on the road, i'm the only person to ever drive that stretch of road and perhaps it's being created just a few feet at a time, in front of me, as i drive along. in fog like that i lose all sense of direction and everything just feels like a giant straight line - i can't sense hills and valleys, i can't feel lows and highs. it's like a censored version of my drive home, where everything distinguishing has been removed. it's a lonely drive in good weather, but something about fog makes the loneliness seem more urgent, more desperate, more sad.

so i still barrelled along at 75 mph + and dared any law enforcement agent to find me, let alone stop me.

i wish i didn't have to work today. i'd like to be home; roberto is playing in a basketball tournament with people from job #2, including the godfather. i missed this same tournament last year and i'm a little bummed that i'm missing it again. roberto even invited me, which he never does, and that means that he really wanted me to be there. :(

oh wow. i just took a quiz. look at this...

You'll die in a Car Accident.

You are very sociable, talking on your cell when you should be paying attention to the road. Sadly, cell phones will claim yet another life...

'How will you die?' at QuizGalaxy.com

omg. how do they know that?

okay. things to do. i'll be back.

love, superineedanapjanel

paging captain obvious to gate c4...

what a day. i don't even know where to begin. with the shocking news that wasn't really so shocking or the ordeal on my way home?

jesus. sometimes, you just have to wonder, who has fucking luck like this?

and the answer is the janel.

so. a friend has come forth with a something that i sort of knew but never really wanted to fully associate with him because of my own feelings toward the situation. and i've got a mixed reaction, in all honesty. on one hand, i feel wonderful that he trusts me with this information. and on the other hand, i just wonder where i stand, where i've been standing in this entire thing, beginning (for me) several years ago and ending... i guess today. my ambivalence is quite self-centered, but what else would you expect from me, really? i guess i should be happy that i am considered such a great friend and leave it at that. but i guess i'll always wonder. beyond that, i can't help but wonder if such information was revealed due to my proximity to someone else - in which case i'll be quite upset.

now, let me tell you what has my blood boiling this evening. on my way home, i managed to get pulled over not once, but twice. twice. who does that? who does that happen to? and again, the answer is the janel.

the first time, i come up over a random hill and just follow the line of cars that is being waved to the side of the road. after i receive the fucking spanish inquisition about living in one state and working in another (come on people - this is not that hard of a concept to grasp), i'm allowed to pass without receiving a ticket.

now the second time, i come around a curve and down a small hill, and once again, i'm waved to the side of the road, as are all small suvs and trucks. wtf? i'm smiley and polite, even though my bladder is about to burst and i'm a little crabby about this delay. i show my license and registration, once again explaining that i moved and that i work in one state and live in another. (is this really that confusing? for crying out loud...)

he asks if he can search my car. i hate this question. if you say yes, they tear apart your car. if you say no, they wonder why and then the next time, they're twice as rude and suddenly saying no isn't an option anymore.

i say yes, i have nothing to hide.

he proceeds to tear apart my car. things that i haven't seen in months are removed from my glove box and my console. he even found my white hot tizzies cd.

and then the fun begins.

under the passenger seat, wedged between i don't know what and something else, he finds an empty beer bottle. that belonged to my mom. it was from last november, when we went to vegas and i drove, and she had to be moderately sedated to get on the plane.

he pulls this out like he's got wonka's fucking golden ticket. "this yours?"

"um, no, it's my mom's..." i could launch into the whole story, but i can tell from the look on his face that he's not going to care and i'm fucked either way.

"you know that an open container is illegal in the state of iowa?"

"yes sir, i do." i maintain my composure even though i'd like to take that empty bottle out of his hand and hit him across the goddamn face with it.

"come with me, i've got something i'd like you to do."

side of the fucking road, my car is in complete disarray, and i've got to recite the alphabet backwards and blow in the fucking blower.

OMFG.

complete bullshit.

but i comply. and i recite the alphabet - backwards, which i'll never be able to do again, i'm sure - and i blow a 0.00, so fucking low it should have been a negative.

he's a little disturbed by this, and i want to tell him to sniff the fucking bottle, it's so old it doesn't even smell like beer anymore. but again, i bite my tongue.

so he decides to be nice. he's gonna let the open container go, but he is going to have to give me a speeding ticket for all his trouble. yup, that's how he said it.

i was going 60 in a 55. and he's doing me a favor? unfuckingbelievable.

i hate them. i hate all of them.

so i took my ticket. i got back in my car. i put my shit away. and i drove my ass home, mad as hell. and i'm still mad as hell. i obviously had not been drinking, although now i'd really like to. he was just looking for a reason to give me a ticket.

asshole.

beyond that, the garage was robbed this week and i'm dealing with an incompetent insurance company.

but i did get a sweet lil' phone call in the middle of the day. that did make me smile.

ugh. i need blood pressure medicine. i need something. i need a drink. fucking lent. where's the ice cream?

my corndog is on fire! woohoo!

i love corndogs. i prefer my corndogs to be served at the state fair with homemade root beer, surrounded by large, hairy, sweaty overgrown men and women in t-shirts bearing their east side pride while pulling their children around on leashes. but in a pinch, i'll heat up the corndogs from the box and eat to my little heart's content.

except tonight, the gran massa decided that he was going to eat the whole box. there were like 15 corndogs in there. (i'll save my analytical dissertation on the [un]nutrition of eating 15 corndogs for another post...) so if i was going to have a corndog this week, it was every girl for herself.

so i stuck them in the oven. and 20 minutes later they were done. YUM! corndogs and lots of catsup, and i'm a happy girl! :D

but five minutes after that, you'd think the freakin house was going to explode. the smoke detectors started going off because someone that made corndogs (who could that be?!) forgot to turn off the oven and there's like a seven pound wad of burnt cheese in the bottom of it (again, i don't know who would do such a thing...). i don't know whose idea it was to put dueling smoke detectors in the living room, but one was always two beats behind the other and it was making me nuts. i like even my chaos to be orderly...

but that's not the point.

how do you think the gran massa gets a smoke detector to stop beeping?

take out the batteries? knock the thing off the ceiling? air out the oven and hope for the best?

nope.

in our house, we find it best to stand directly under the beeping smoke detector and blow on them as hard as possible.

around here, the fun never, ever stops. because we are retarded.

love, supersortofretardedandfullofcorndogsjanel

i'll admit, you're winning me over.

today was wonderful. i woke up before dinner time, which is always a good thing when it comes to accomplishing things on your to-do list. my mood has been wonderful the last few days, and that can be attributed to several things/people...

*sigh*

you know that wonderful feeling when you've met somebody new, and they're spectacular and you can't wait to talk to them and find out everything about them and when they call you just smile like a retard on free balloon day at the supermarket?

yeah, that's me.

i can't wait for easter.

the bang and the clatter

i slept until 1430 today. at first i looked at my kit cat clock and tried to figure out what time it was, but i think the hands are suspiciously close in size and i'm forever trying to read the damn thing, that and it was running about 36 minutes behind when i could read it, so i gave up and just looked for the alarm clock which was not on the bedside table where i thought it should have been. ugh. regardless. 1430. i don't think i've ever slept so late in all my life. and i'm not even medicated. i think i was just run down from being sick and working this weekend, because i never really felt caught up on sleep. but when i got up today, i felt wonderful, let me tell you. won-der-ful.

i didn't get through my list of things to do today. i did get my fish tanks cleaned, which makes me feel like a decent fish parent. my goldfish are happier; their light is on and they can see. plus they're back on regular food and not antibacterial food, which never really turned them on. roger is back to sleeping in the corner next to the filter and i guess fish life is good...? it must be good to be a goldfish, having a three second memory and chasing bubbles out of the mouth of a fake alligator all day. did i tell you that my algae eater died? the gran massa thinks that it starved to death, which makes me feel bad, obviously that's never my intention but with the light off in the tank there's no way to make algae grow and the light's been off for over two weeks now. poor thing. i was never that attached to him, what was his name again? he was kind of gross and he got in otto's way all the time. i don't like anyone that gets in otto's way, otto's my homeboy. homefish? whatev.

but there were other, non-fish related things i wanted to do that i didn't get done. letters to write, paperwork to fax, phone calls to make and laundry to do - omg, the laundry is taking over one end of my bedoom. i thought i lost a cat today but i realized she was just under a giant pile of towels. oh well... tomorrow's another day. although, as i finish writing this, it's already tomorrow and i should be asleep, preparing for the day ahead.

OMG. something just dawned on me and boy, do i feel like a dork. i deserve a kick in the shins for that one. i am such a dumbass sometimes.

how do i get by, day to day? i'm not even sure...

oh, take me to foggy london town...

... because i want to experience this festival of fantastic proportions ...

the janel may be calling in sick late in august. calling in sick and using her travel benefits. now that's not suspicious.

hehehe...

in there like swimwear.

because he called when he said he would, he got a ringtone.

this had better turn into a regular occurrence.

you hear me, baxter? because i love this song. don't ruin that for me.

it's friday!

yay me! just a few more hours and then i don't have to work for a couple days...

i'm happy dancing all the way to the shower this morning...

i will come at you like a spider monkey, old man.

people never fail to amaze me. just in general. they come to the airport, they've packed everything but the fucking kitchen sink and their common sense because they ask some of the stupidest fucking questions ever.

and their behavior? only acceptable at the airport. how many other public places do people yell at the top of their lungs and curse and carry on? and group mentality sets in if you have more than two people. if you have two people and one of them is being an ass, then generally the second person will commiserate with me, the berated employee. but if you have two people that are being asses they can sway the opinion of the whole group and then you've got a mob scene on your hands.

and a mob scene that's missing bags can quickly turn into a mêlée. now i enjoy a good mêlée from time to time. but tonight i was in no mood. so when i was confronted with a screaming man and his two bottles of broken rum and his "what are you going to do about it? and where's my fucking luggage?" attitude, i prolly went about answering in the wrong way. and for that, i was called every name in the book and will probably get a nice letter of commendation in the mail, addressed to my supervisor and detailing my compassion and helpfulness.

that's fine. go ahead. i don't care. fuck you. don't come at me like a gorilla in heat holding a box full of broken glass dripping rum on my fucking shoes and maybe, just maybe, we can converse like adults. until then, back the fuck up and watch your fucking mouth, you overgrown heathen motherfucker.

now, as far as your lost luggage? i'm going to smile so sweetly and tell you that it will most likely arrive on the next flight and we'll get it out for delivery just as soon as possible. i'm lying. don't listen to a word i say. because your shit is on the fast track to guam, bitches, and it's going to take weeks to get it back.

oh? you packed all your souvenirs in that bag? and your car keys? oh no... that's really too bad.

i'm here to help you. so don't fuck with me, dickhead.

ugh. somedays i just hate people.

tomorrow is my friday. and only 20 more days until good friday.

bark twice if you're in milwaukee.

i feel normal again. i feel like me.

(was that ever normal? i'm sure that's debatable...)

i'm not dying. yay! and i'm not fired. yay!

i didn't even realise what a giant wad of stress that was until after i had "the talk" with my manager. and the talk wasn't that bad. it didn't really make a lot of sense, but it wasn't bad. it came right as i was eating dinner, so any appetite i had formed was quickly lost when i was asked if i had a moment to "chat."

no. i don't have any moments. i'm insanely busy and this will have to wait until i'm not busy, which by the looks of my calendar, is going to be about 2014.

on my way mike. be right there mike. can i finish my banana?

but it wasn't bad. i left the office with as much of an ass as i've ever had.

planes were late. and i can't even blame ord, which is my favorite place to blame. they were on time. the sweet ord fo brought us cinnabon (aww!) and asked me to go drinking with him, but i had to pass. i gave up drinking for lent and i have 21 more days to go.

i should have given up working for lent. i hear my manager is catholic; i wonder how that would have gone over...

21 days! that's like, forever! i may not make it!

so in our efforts to get out of work on time, me and the (temporary) fearless leader last night took it upon ourselves to clean a plane, ghetto style, with the ghetto equipment that we're allowed to have on the ramp (which i still think is a bunch of hullaballoo and is someone else's excuse not to have to clean but whatever). it was true ghetto style. short of spraying 409 on the damn floor, i've never seen such mad cleaning skillz.

that's called sarcasm, boys and girls, google that shit.

and i remember why i hate cleaning planes. people are slobs. freakin slobs. you know, keep your shit with you. don't leave your shit for someone else to pick up, that's just rude. and people leave a lot of shit. gross shit. ugh. it makes me want to go take another shower just thinking about it.

*shudder*

the only highlight of cleaning the damn plane came when my pocket started to vibrate. because the janel does love her vibrating phone, almost to the point where she doesn't love to answer... but i did. why? it was baxter.

i wrongfully assumed there were problems with the earth's gravitational pull on the east coast. i thought maybe half the united states just fell off the planet. i don't know, it could happen. i haven't watched the news in months. i just assumed that baxter, living on the eastern seaboard, would be among the unlucky victims of a change in gravity and he'd gotten sucked off the planet and into the dark rubicon of space.

actually not the case, as it turns out. alive and well, just busy. as we all are.

one returned phone call turned into nearly two hours of conversation. everything from top five movies of all time to matt damon's shoulders. turns out we're both pretty arrogant, which is only fitting. me? attracted to someone who feels that they're superior to most of the population? never.

but it was good. the conversation is always good.

good enough, in fact, that i'm considering making a day trip to meet baxter. not anytime soon, like today or anything crazy whack funky like that. no, i have to go to work today or i think i would get fired. but sometime soon.

and that's all i have to say about that.

now i have to get ready to go to work. because i have a job. that i'm not (currently) fired from.

toodles, lovelies.

congratulations, universe... you win.

i'm having one of those days. you know, where it's like every sentence is taken out of context and nothing comes out right. i've been an absolute bitch for the last week and i'm not sure why. i can't think of any one person that i've been nice to, except maybe my mom, and if i were a snarky bitch to her she'd take me out of this world, since she brought me into it and all.

she's said that line since i was old enough to listen. 'i brought you into this world and i can take you out of it.' i've heard other people say it since then and it just cracks me up... i mean, other people don't say it to me, necessarily, but i hear them say it to their kids, and it makes me laugh.

the really sad thing is my mood is better today, or at least it is right now. i'm feeling better, even though my stomach is not. i'm not hungry, and i haven't been for days. part of this is stress. much is going on now, and much i'd rather not talk about, so i won't.

a couple of good things did happen today. today was the beginning of the ncaa tournament. i love bracket season. i have brackets all over the place; so many that i can't remember my logins to most of them; the one that i can remember isn't doing so well; i'm currently in 219,199th position and that just cracks me up. it's been decided that the medal for this position is either made of tin foil or nerf foam. (i'm voting for nerf foam. that stuff is awesome. all bendy and shape shifting and just plain awesome.)

i went and saw my family today. i've been missing out on human contact lately. human contact and common sense. i miss my brother, why, i'm not sure, because he's a dickhead, but he cracks me up. he's moving to an apartment on the third floor of this new building so he can look at this beautiful shit creek/culvert thing and he's excited about it. i don't know if it's dawned on him yet that it's on the third floorand that's three flights of stairs. he doesn't have any heavy furniture. that's a plus. he just has exercise equipment and weights. sucker... he's not really a dickhead, not generally, he just acts like one (he just plays one on tv).

i heard from i-know-who today. (ha ha... i know who and you don't!) i think he was just attempting to play my game with me. little does he know that i don't really have a game, my game is just called being an absolute fucking genius and there is no way he will ever win at that in spite of his best efforts. however, i will continue to allow him to amuse me until such time as i tire of his efforts and/or i travel to meet this person face to face and i decide that he is not tall as i think he should be or his ties just don't do it for me since he doesn't have floppy hair and he doesn't have an accent, even though he rightfully could have an accent and chooses not to. is there anything else i'd like to say about that? just two things, really. damn you duke and illinois, don't fail me now!

i'm tired now. i think i may go to bed. i have to be up early so i can look supercute (yes, that is a word. google that shit.) and attempt to fool my doctor into thinking i'm superwell and can go to work and retain my job so i can have a paycheck so i can pay my rent and start being a non-money-grubbing member of society.

i'll let you know how that works out.

toodles.

ps - does anyone know when the office is coming out of reruns? it's enough to make a girl pick up drinking again. thank god lent ends in like 18 days. that's going to be a great friday. :D

the chuck norris of advice giving.

i call because every now and then i need a good verbal ass kicking. granted, it's followed up with "i love you" and that's not very chuck norris, but i call because i need a good dose of common sense that i'm not able to provide myself at the moment.

sadly, i'm usually really good at giving advice.

i just suck at taking it.

so tonight i called because i was down. and i'm contemplating a few things - a few changes - and i just needed to hear someone with a voice of reason. it's nice to know that i can always go home, no matter what, even though i don't really know what i want to do. and i don't know what i should do...

i'm feeling a little better. if i could just get rid of my cough and this stomach ... thing ... i'd be a bazillion percent better. i went back to the doctor this morning and she said no work until at least friday and then i get to recheck on friday morning for my weekend work status, which is going to make me really popular at my place of employment...

i'm kind of tired. i'm going to go zone out in front of the tv, since i'm under house arrest...

all is well in clock-dom.

on the back of my clock there is a switch for dst.

i turned it on.

i almost want a hamster.

almost.



so sweet. i used to have a hamster. but that's why mason's last name is manson.

overload and then some

this is officially the cutest thing ever.

omg.

you're a slacker, mcfly!

just how do the japanese know about our super secret clock in the rock in colorado, anyway? if they know about it, it can't be that classified, can it? maybe that's why my clock's not sync-ing... this is the beginning of the end and it all started with a super (not-so) sophisticated seiko alarm clock and the president oversleeping. bastards!

boys and girls, superjanel just unraveled a major world wide space time continuum flux capacitor mystery. de nada, de nada.

now just hand me the nobel peace prize and some chicken nuggets and we'll call it a day. that's scooby doo type ending, isn't it?

stupid japanese clock

here we are, like three days into daylight savings or something, and my super expensive, super advanced, super "you never have to set this clock it will forever set itself because it syncs with the atomic clock hidden in the mountains in colorado" smart clock has yet to realize that it's not right. since this is supposed to sync with the super hidden, super classifed clock in the rock in colorado, does this mean that the government is also running one hour behind? is the president running one hour late as well?

you'd think that if microsoft could get their shit together and get my laptop clock running correctly, which they did, the fucking government could sync my alarm clock.

you know, you steal a nice clock from a nice hotel and this is what happens. if i'd have paid for this, i'd take it back. but since i didn't, and since taking it back would only admit to the dfw grand hyatt that i did take their bedside alarm clock, well... i'll just live with it.

maybe if i take the batteries out and put them back in it'll reset itself.

fucking stolen technology anyway.

desperation doesn't wear well...

being sick brings out the worst in people. it makes depressing people more depressed, it makes dramatic people more dramatic. if you happen to be a depressed dramatic sick person, chances are, you're just fucked. because you're sinking into a deep dark hole of theatrics that no powerade-cough-syrup-antibiotic-mixture will quickly bring you out of. and generally, that should leave you feeling sorry for those around you. except in my case, i live with another one of these people so we just feed off one another.

i guess the mature thing is that i can realize this? my baby steps have brought me to realization? i don't know if i should be proud of this accomplishment or hang my head in shame, not knowing how to overcome this level of patheticness that i come across when my fever surges above 101-degrees...

i think i tend to remember an alternate life in the house on the eternal return... blurring out the events that angered, saddened, upset me on a regular basis and looking for those that made my garden churn roses. it's interesting how the brain works, especially when you're sick, to make you think that you gave up the life of the marvelous when in fact it was humdrum at best.

i know i'm happier now. i can see it in myself. but every now and then i have fits of lugubriousness, seemingly brought on by things i'm unable to control, like this. i don't want my old life back, i really don't. i was a pretty miserable person. i like me, i like me now.

i'd like me better if i weren't sick, but hey, what do you do?

ugh. maybe it's just the medicine talking.

so the gran massa's condition is not improving either. together, we're quite a pair. the main difference between us at this point is that he's been issued a nebulizer and i have not. his nebulizer (that word just makes me laugh) sounds funny when in use... so when he closes the bedroom door to "nebulize" it makes me think of other things. and then of course god strikes me down with a gigantic coughing fit for thinking such ludicrous thoughts.

but if you should hear such a funny noise coming from behind my bedroom door, no worries, dearies. i'm just vibrulzing... oops, nebulizing, i'm sure of it. :D

i know that's just the medicine talking.

give me a pill, let's call it a day.

i'm not patient. and i'm not a good patient. i'm at my wits end with being sick. i cough, i puke, i cough, i hack, i cough, i sleep, i cough, i puke, i cough, i hack... you can see where this is going. i'm dying. i'm convinced of it. i'm officially not supposed to leave the house for work, school, anything until at least wednesday for my next doctor's appointment. i'm bored and i'm crabby. gahhh...

i'm going to go back to bed. or watch tv. or something that requries very little thought until i can take some more medicine.

i'm going to be one of the x-men. the one with gills.

i'm growing gills. my lungs are full of water and i'm making the transition to fishdom.

actually, no. i have pneumonia. thanks, roomie. this has to be the second greatest gift i've ever received from you. one, the swatch watch. two, pneumonia. this is awesome.

yay me.

i went to the hospital and they made me wear a sars mask. check this shit out...


so hot.

okay. so i'm going to go take a gran massa sized dose of cough syrup and pass out in the living room.

word.

don't touch me, you giant beverage.

i'm sad. i lost another fish today. not in the sense that i set him down somewhere and can't find him. i lost him to ich. or fin rot. or scale bulge. or something. whatever it was, adolf was not a healthy fellow. so the gran massa went in with the pasta spoon and hauled him out.

i cried.

i know. it's a fish. how does one get so emotionally attached to a fish? well, honestly, if you know me at all, this is nothing new. i cry when i trade in my cars, put holes in my socks or use the last sheet of a pad of post it notes. it's borderline ridiculous. anyway. the appropriateness of the situation, if there is any, is that german looking adolf succumbed to a german sounding disease: ich. ich. ich. ichy.

i'm tired tonight. last night was one of those all night ordeals that the roommate and i seem to get ourselves into once every 10 days or so. this time it was in oma. mind you, we live in the opposite side of the state. i drove for like 15 hours yesterday. that was awesome. that's okay though. i got the cutest swatch watch ever. :) next week i think we're driving to canada.

i'm going to bed.

adolf
20jan07 - 08mar07

i see the appeal of pet rocks.

tonight i came home from errands and i could only find one cat. i thought this was swell; i've already killed two fish and sickened about a baker's dozen more, now what have i done with an entire freakin' cat?

i'm not too stressed about it; i figure she's hiding somewhere. i sit down with my dinner and look for the tv remote.

mischa comes tearing out of the gran massa's room, spinning in circles with this blue ... thing stuck to her butt. i about choked on my orange chicken, i was laughing so hard. she's spinning and running into furniture, tables and sofas and i can't catch her and whatever's stuck to her butt is not going anywhere. and considering where she came from - the roommate's room - i'm almost hesitant to find out what it is.

but i feel bad leaving her like that and she's looking a little dizzy. so i grab her and hold her down. seems the champ spent some time at the meadows and the bracelet color of that particular day was azul. i don't know where mischa found this bracelet or how she stuck it to her butt, but i had to dislodge it. yay me.

the fun never stops around here.

on fish tanks and water

because i know you're completely interested...

this morning brought the death of one poor little fish. i flushed my own bruiser. and i didn't even use the pasta spoon. i did a 70 percent water change. i cleaned my own gravel and changed my own water and fixed my own tina the alligator.

it's a sad day for the superjanel. boohoo...

*sob*

bruiser
14feb07 - 06mar07
:(

...and then one day, israeli intelligence comes to the door.

i am jacked up on cold medicine and mt. dew. i will not sleep for days. i am a rockstar. i am invincible. i will come at you like a spider monkey. i am going to see how many episodes of the office i can watch in a row. and then i will watch the entire godfather series. and then i don't know what will do. maybe by then the post office will be open.

i'm sick. i don't have ich, but i'm feeling icky. i have a cold. i can't find my driver's license, i'm sure it's around here somewhere, but until it surfaces i can't buy any advil cold and sinus. why? because the state of iowa won't let me buy it without presenting my driver's license because it has pseudoephedrine in it. and pseudoephedrine is one of the many ingredients that goes into making methamphetamine.

now, if the state of iowa had their wits about them, they would know that i can't even bake fucking brownies and i sure as hell can't make meth and would realize that i, of all people, am harmless to the drug czar as any sort of drug producing threat. i'm not even a breakfast producing threat. but they don't know that. perhaps if i sent drug czar van haaften a batch of brownies or an omelet he would allow me to buy cold medicine without having id? hmmm... do we have any eggs?

anyway. what was i talking about? ah yes. cold medicine. so i had to buy second rate cold medicine. this stuff sucks. its got me on pins and fucking needles, my friends. i can't compelte a thought even if i wanted to, i am random and all over the place. i have watched like seven hours of television and i don't know what i've been watching.

however, i have seen a couple of really disturbing commercials.

• there's a new quizno's commercial for some sort of sandwich, some prime rib something or other. that's not the point. the point is, the last part of the commericial features two girls talking about how girls love meat. this one chick, she says, 'it has a lot of meat. that's what a girl needs, a lot of meat.' omg. and then she laughs like she's choking or she's like part donkey, i'm not sure. girls, we may need meat, but we don't need to advertise it. dumb bitches.
  
• clearblue preggers tests advertises on mtv (yeah, i know. i'm regressing. HUSH.) but the tagline for their newest test cracks me up: 'the most advanced piece of technology you will ever pee on.' my first issue with this commercial? they say the word pee. i don't think i've ever heard that on tv, at least on a commercial. that's just weird. and second, how do they know i'm not wizzing on flat screen tvs? ipods? handheld gps units? cell phones? that's just it. they don't. they're assuming a lot. and you know what happens when you go assuming things? it makes an ass out of u and ming, who ever the hell ming is, i don't know.

i'm so sad that my fish are sick. i'm such a bad fish parent. :( roger's affect is improving, and adolf is moving around a bit more, but petey and bruiser are covered in 'salt' and i'm sure that otto is as well, but he's mostly white and therefore it's harder to see on him. i feel so bad. tomorrow i'm going to change out some of their water, and then on wednesday and again on friday they get more blue treatment. poor, poor fishies.

i think i'm tired. i'm going to bed. maybe not. i don't know. i'm bored. and my medicine is wearing off. where's the nyquil?

gnite. love, superhasasorethroatandrunnynosejanel... boohoo :(

my poor fishies. :(

i figured out what's wrong with roger. and now adolf too. ich. they've got ich.

i woke up this morning, well, this afternoon, i guess (1209), and roger looks like he lost a fight with a salt shaker. thanks to google and koko's goldfish world i learned all about ich. and it's icky.

so after a trip to a fish store, it looks like a smurf exploded in the tank (and on the wall... oops) and i had to change the filter. i hope it helps. :(

poor feeshies.

wish me luck.

i love being a turtle.

today i was reminded why i love my job. mr. gardener in the green tie from cmh, i'd cheer for ohio state for you. oh my goodness. i'd even cheer for the indians for you... and that's saying a lot. *sigh*

the gran massa is on his way to ...bulgaria? no, that's not right. budapest. that's it. i wanted him to go to bulgaria because they have a swatch store there. but anyway. he's gone for the week (and i'm home alone! yay!) and i'm on fish duty and one fish has already gone mia and two more are sick. i'm either a pathetic fish parent or the fish have awful timing. that and the tank in the kitchen is having a splendid algae bloom, i don't know what's up with that. roger watch: roger seems to be doing fine, thanks for asking. but now i'm a little concerned about adolf, but maybe he's just got a cold. i wonder... do fish sneeze?

borat comes out on dvd this week. wawaweewa! i cannot wait. i may not buy milk and instead buy borat. and then i will watch it over and over and over as i dehydrate from eating dry grape nuts and not having any milk. what a way to go. if that's the case, i want it to say so in the paper. i want people to read that in the paper.

there's a concert i want to go to next weekend in dsm. i need to find someone to work for me next sunday night. takers? say hi to your mom is going to be at the vaudeville mews and i want to go. :)

okay. time to go to bed. one can only take so much viva la bam.

viva la janel!

someone has to pay for all these labels.

and now you know why it costs so much to fly. i work for this company.

and we know why you fly. the side of our planes prolly says 'airplane.'

hehehe....

all present and accounted for...

1308. home. all fish present and accounted for. all kitties present and accounted for. me. i'm home. i'm present and accounted for. and i'm pooped. i worked today, yay me. i decided to go, i didn't have anything better to do and i guess dollars are good.

so i pulled myself away from the 12-hour 'america's next top model' marathon and took my dumb ass to work. have you ever watched that show? sadly for me, it's kind of addicting. because that's like three hours of my life i'll never get back. i'm ashamed to admit it. it's kind of like talking about watching 'mean girls'. the first time i talked about that i just wanted to vomit, it was so embarrassing.

my throat is sore. who knew when you googled for sore throat you'd get this cute lil' bugger (available for purchase for just 5.99£)? apparently he is a giant microbe of streptococcus bacteria which causes 15 percent of sore throats. i think he looks more like a liver or a kidney, which i think prolly has very little to do with sore throats, but sounds more interesting, i think. 'superjanel, you don't sound very good? what's wrong? do you have a sore throat?' 'why yes, yes i do. i think my kidney is inflamed from all the screaming i did at the chili peppers concert last night...' hehehe...

i work with a giant group of idiot mongoloids. each and every one of them, i swear. i'm not saying that our agents in dsm were rocket scientists, by any means, but come on. when the guy working ops has to ask what 'dcn' means and how it affects him, i think we've got some issues. there were five of us tonight: me, the tall emo kid with the speech impediment, the short bald kid that makes up his own language, the chubby beaner with one ball, and the sweet but retarded southern chica who will believe anything you tell her, kid you not. the entertainment for the evening, between flights, obviously, was a spread of old naked women in oprah magazine and an ultimate fighting thing on tv. good times.

as long as we're on the topic, let's talk about oprah magazine. excuse me. the oprah magazine. do you realize that for the last seven years, she's been on like every cover of every issue of her own damn magazine? how fucking conceited is that? i mean, it's already got her name on it. don't we already know that it's oprah? do we really need to see it? and then you get inside, and like every other ad is for oprah this and oprah that. and the stories, like they're all about oprah. and then you get to read about what's on the fucking oprah show. OMFG. get over it. get over yourself. yes, you're rich. and yes, you're important and you've done important things for women and for blacks and for the impoverished and blah, blah, blah... but come on. i'm sick to death of oprah and her ever changing hair and waist size and hearing how amazing she is. and while i hate dr. phil, i hate even more hearing like how she discovered dr. phil.

and in this month's oprah, this one pictured right here to the left, there are pictures of old lady hoohaa. and you know, i'm generally not offended by hoohaa. but i was just all flipping through the pages, and i'm already pissed off because there was nothing else to read and i have to read the oprah magazine and my plane is delayed (because that's what dcn means, motherfuckers, it means i have to stay late... grr) and i'm just flipping away and suddenly i'm confronted with like full frontal old lady hoohaa nakedness. AAAACKK! i about spit my soda all over it. i was not okay. oprah, if you're reading this, and you know you are, i was not okay with the old lady hoohaa. nor was i okay with the old lady and the pancake boobs. i know i'm going to get old. i don't need to see what it's going to look like. ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew... EW. not impressed, oprah, not impressed.

so i think i'm going to bed now. i'm tired. and sort of cranky. i need some nyquil or something. i need a beer. how many days until lent is over?

gnite, lovelies.
love, superfreakindoesn'tevenknowwhatchanneltheoprahshowisoninthiscityjanel

roger watch: day 3

i'm on fish patrol. especially since the gran massa is attempting to leave the country today. i get to feed all the fishies. and the kitties. and me. i don't know if i can handle all this responsibility.

roger seems to be doing better. i put aquarium salt in the tank last night; it's supposed to help reduce stress on feeshies. maybe he's stressed. maybe he's upset about something. maybe he and adolf had a tiff. who knows?

new fish update. gouramis in the goldfish tank. they're happier there. so what's in the ugly tank? i got the cutest little spotted puffer fish! his name is helmut. but you have to say in three and with a fake accent, 'helmut, helmut, helmut!' and the ugly tank isn't so ugly any more, i took out the nasty plants and put in green plants, still fake but not as bad. helmut is adorable. but apparently they're kind of mean so i can't have other fish in there with him.

i work today. i think i may actually go.

i've been watching america's next top model for the last three hours. i can feel myself getting stupider but i can't bring myself to turn it off.

me love you long time.

janel loves pretty things. janel needs pretty things. and you want to make the janel happy, don't you? don't you? i'm sure it's a holiday somewhere. i'll send you a clever thank you card, i promise.

love, superjanel

ps- simon, thank you cards are a-comin'. i just found the construction paper. now i'm working on getting a cat/fish/human family picture. i think we're all going to have to get in the fish tank cuz the fish get a little pissy when i set them on the sofa for a photo op.

roger watch: day 2

the mood is tense; i have been on some serious, serious reports but nothing quite like this. i uh... roger is inside right now. i tried to get an interview with him, but they said no, you can't do that he's a live fish, he will literally rip your face off.

hehehe...

no, really. stupid fish is still sleeping UPSIDE DOWN. wtf? then then i poke him with a chopstick and he just wakes up and looks all cute and hungry. so i feed him and he eats and swims around.

see? this is roger, sleeping upside down next to the plant, all belly up with his butt against the glass. see his little white belly? the little jerk. and now, i'm looking at him right now and he's scouring for food like there's no tomorrow and nothing's wrong. ugh.

it's a mexican standoff. and i don't have a gun.

slowly but surely i'm losing my fucking mind, folks. i mean it. if this is a sign of things to come, i'm going to be one of those blue hairs in the home, not knowing my own name and calling every one bobby with my sleeves full of kleenex and food hanging off my chin laughing at my own jokes and they're going to be tying me back into my wheelchair because i'm going to keep setting off the alarm when i keep running outside to show off my shuffleboard skills in the courtyard in my velcro s.a.s. shoes to all the other bitches in the cafeteria, tryin' to pick up a sugar daddy to pay off my student loans that are still prolly past due 'cuz that's how i roll.

sadly, some days i can't remember my own name and i'm already laughing at my own jokes. it's not looking good for the home team. like today, today i threw away my debit card and i had to dig through the trash to find it. it was at the bottom, mixed in with the swedish meatballs the gran massa champ made for dinner. that was awesome. combine that with the fact that he recorded the entire episode and plans to put it on youtube, i felt like a goddamn genius, gump.

while i was looking for my debit card, i found that i'd thrown away the gas bill and the insurance bill. and i swear, that wasn't on purpose. that just sort of happened. not that i threw away my debit card on purpose, that was a complete accident too. i'm a retard. but it sort of explains maybe why i don't pay my bills? maybe...?

and then tonight i went to plug in my phone so it would stop beeping at me and i couldn't find my phone charger. which was weird because i spent a good 20 minutes looking for it yesterday and finally found it in a perfectly logical spot, which is always the last spot to look. so tonight i ripped apart my room and the sofa, again, for the third time today, and still couldn't find it. and as it turns out, it was in the roommate's room. why? i don't know. because i'm retarded. i just walk around and set stuff down and leave it.

thank god i don't have children. can you imagine? i'd get all sidetracked at target or best buy or something and just set the little fucker down and leave him there, get home and be like, 'oh hell, i left tommy at target... again. but look at this new food processor i bought!'

new fish today. i got an algae eater for the goldfish tank. i think i'll call him hoover. he's not very cute but hopefully he's effective. i also got two gourami to go in the ugly tank but after i put them in there i just want to apologize to them; what an awful place to live. boring and ugly; they'll prolly commit little fish suicide by morning, hold their breath or drown or something.

speaking of fish, i think i may have another sickie. i think roger is ill. he's either taken a liking to playing dead or he's dying. he's starting sleeping upside down, like belly up. i don't think this is normal fish behavior. and to the non-believers, to those who say fish don't have feelings, i say meh! fish have feelings; as roger lies belly up, dying or proving a point in peaceful protest or whatever it is he's doing, the other fish try to console him. or maybe they're paying their last respects, i'm not sure. maybe they're like, 'yeah man, i remember how this went down with bernie, so when the pasta spoon comes for you, i want to be prepared. you were my best friend, man. remember that night, when we got all crunked up with that sheila chick and took my mom's car out to the lake and drove it off the pier? that was totally out of that risky business movie except sheila totally didn't look like rebecca demornay and i can't dance like tom cruise, cuz i have sponge bob hips. but you were there for me man, god, roger, i'm going to miss you...'

fish totally have feelings.

what am i going to do if roger kicks it? and i don't mean like old school, beastie boy style, so-whatcha-whatcha-whatcha-want. roger is the reason i bought the fish tank in the first place. i had to have a fish i could name roger. omg. i think i'm going to cry.

wahhh.

big kitty is sick. i had to find a kitty doctor today and we got kitty medicine. he's such a trooper. his new doctor is dr. riley, she has great hair. she was all, 'has he suffered any trauma lately?' and i was all, 'well, his father abandoned him and we moved to this god forsaken city and he's living with a homo who makes him do tricks and tries to make him wear a collar.' no really, i didn't say that. i thought about it though. that would have been hilarious.

but my poor kitty! he comes from a broken home! he's a product of divorce. he'll never have a normal relationship. hehehe...

i need to go to bed. i'm dumb.

peas out.

love,
superfreakinsleepysillyjanel

*muah*

did you see the teeth on that sucker?

this is the roommate's fish, happy. happy is an undulate triggerfish. do you know anything about these kinds of fish? they are agressive. supposedly they can be taught to eat from your hands; this one hasn't yet learned NOT to eat your hand. so this afternoon i stuck my finger in the tank to tease him like i often do and the little fucker bit me.

bit me. like with teeth. this little jerk has massive teeth. he actually has quite an overbite. and he's not venomous, he's just a jerk. it didn't break the skin, it just sort of scared me. a lot. so much i screamed. like a little girl.

stupid fish. grr...

obviously, you're not a golfer.

i woke up this morning to the sound of running water. not the usual fishtank sound, because i wasn't at home. i stayed in the dutch village last night and i slept on roberto's hideous, yet oddly comfortable seafoam green sofa. no, this morning, i woke up to the running of the toilet. (not at all similar to the running of the bulls.) apparently it ran all night long. so as soon as i got up and peed and flushed, his landlord came running down the steps to see if she could wake him up to check on his toilet. and she did. she checked on his toilet and overtook his bathroom. i was lucky i got to brush my teeth before i left for job #2. she's scary. i'd want to move too if i were him. nothing like a big scary wannabe bull-dyke in sweatpants at your door bright and early before you can put in your contacts. yikes.

job #2. it's back to being job #2 again. that's kind of nice. now if i could only get paid, not by job #2, but just in general. but that seems to go hand in hand with working and i guess i need to do more of that before they want to give me a paycheck.

dad. my dad got out of the hospital today. he's home now. test results came back inconclusive, which is sort of what he expected. he says he's feeling a little better, not quite as woozy. he's eating, drinking, walking, talking - full range of motion. i feel better about this, i just wish he didn't live so far out in bfe and so far away from civilization and his hospital.

gram. my gram's not doing so well. she has to have survery again tomorrow, i'm not sure what time, to repair the artery and the surrounding muscle. again. she's been so severely mistreated by the doctor, he's refused to see her on several occasions, which i think is completely asinine. she looked perfectly awful last night, it just makes me sad. i worry about her.

as far as my bar fight... i called the edbq pd this evening and spoke with the officer handling my case. justine has two more days to return the officer's voicemails and then the case goes to the illinois state attorney without any sort of statement from him, which is just another plus in my column. aggravated battery in the state of illinois is a class 3 felony, which is punishable by a fine up to 25,000$ and 2 to 5 years in a state penitentary.

sucks to be him. hehehe...

what else? we're smack dab in the middle of lent, boys and girls. and even though i'm not a practicing catholic (hell, technically, i'm not even catholic - yet), i'm observing lent this year. so what have i given up for 40 days and 40 nights? drinking. and maybe arbys, i'm not sure. but definitely drinking. so i have 36 more days of this. lent doesn't include sundays (sonsabitches!) and ends on maundy thursday, which is the day before good friday. i'm going to have a maundy thursday and a great friday. :D

but not now, because now i'm going to bed.

i'm tired.