damn, it feels good to be a gangsta

in spite of the fact that the bee is nearly suicidal over the fact that they (they being "the man") can take his hunting licenses this fall in conjunction with his DUI, i'm having a splendid week. i got the apartment (it has a washer and dryer AND a fireplace AND a skylight in the kitchen!) and i'm moving 10nov. woot! i've figured out a way to dig myself out of the financial black hole i've managed to put myself into, and it doesn't involve selling any body parts on the black market. woot! and i think i'm getting the asian hag fired. woot woot!

work is going well. tomorrow we get out blackberries. i always wanted a blackberry. (note to self: do not take to bar.) and now i'll have one. i rule.

i'm looking forward to moving. this apartment is adorable. i don't know where i'll put my monster of an entertainment center. part of me wants to let my brother and dad just take it out in a field and kick the holy shit out of it, office space-style. (damn it feels good to be a gangsta.) my big kitteh is going to miss my mom, though. they're all, like, besties and stuff. it's kind of cute. i think he loves her because she's stable and i'm not. that's okay. i'm not offended. i have mischa - we're both retarded and we get along just fine.

the bee may end up living with me; i'm not sure. it was my idea, if you can fathom such a thing. i just like it when he's around. i don't know; don't ask me to explain.

i'm going to bed now. i'm tired. and i'm low on gas and you need a jacket.

will somebody answer the phone?

i'm tired of listening to it ring. my phone rings a lot. i mean, seriously - a lot. i don't answer the calls that i don't know. and even when some people i know call, i don't answer. i really, truly dislike talking on the phone... with most people. i'm a much better communicator in person or via text message. and i don't text like a 12 year old either. i can spell.

i just can't capitalize.

no work for me today. well, no work at the whippy dip. i spent the afternoon at job #2 (which isn't even my job anymore and certainly not job #2 because technically there isn't a job #1 or even a job #only) taking pictures for ebay and answering the phones, making spreadsheets and just causing trouble. it's been a pretty good day.

i have sad news for you. well, it was sad for me, anyway. roger, my all-time favorite goldfish and my first ever goldfish and the entire reason i bought that godforsaken tank and all the shit that goes with it - well, roger died on sunday. roger had dropsy and i couldn't cure it. and it's not for a lack of trying, let me assure you. i spent more money on medicine and treatments and salt and filters and airstones for that fish - and he still ended up dying on me. now i am left only with norman, who sort of has a fu manchu moustache thing going. he's cute but he's no roger. if and when i decide to purchase a new fish it will be named fluffy because the idea of a fish named fluffy just cracks me up.

so this last weekend i dropped my phone in a cup of captain morgan and dr. pepper. now it shuts itself off if i set it down too hard and some of my ringtones are corrupted. and it even sort of smells like dr. pepper. i've cleaned it out; i've taken it apart and let it dry (as much as dr. pepper ever dries); i'm considering reporting this damage to my cell phone insurance company for a new one. they're going to be all, "didn't we just replace a phone for you?" and i'll be all, "you have no idea how often i lose things. talk to my bank: i've lost 5 debit cards in 3 months." and that will be the end of that.

yeah, that debit card thing is not a joke. i don't do well with debit cards, licenses or cell phones. maybe i should wear a fanny pack where ever i go...

ooh, that would be hot.

talk less, say more.

dear readers,
i have a problem. i need some advice.

i've been posing this conversation in my mind for the last few days. not quite sure how to broach the subject, don't even know if the other party is willing. but i've got to get it out or it's going to explode out, like vocal vomit.

and that won't be pretty.

so, since my options for communication are somewhat limited, i have to have this conversation via the telly. and i hate the telly. i really do. i don't know when this change occurred, but i'd much rather have this conversation in person. even over im or email.

when did my life become so personal? or impersonal?

but that's a topic for another day...

so here's the way it's playing out in my head. are you interested? you don't have to be. nothing like reading someone else's internal conversations. good lord, that makes me sound a bit psychotic or melodramatic or something, doesn't it?

hmmm....

version 1.0
"hello, crackhead. do you remember me? yup, me. i'm the one that named your voicemail and talked to you all hours of the night about all sorts of crazy things. i'm the one that you said you wanted to see, to meet - so on and so forth. it's been awhile since i've heard from you. at this point, i'm kind of hoping you've fallen in a river or gotten struck by lightening. i'd almost feel sorry for you if that were the case, almost. it would be easier to feel sorry for you if i'd received some sort of communication, letting me know that you were barely alive, hanging on by a thread, a shard of life still coursing through your veins - a message, a telegraph, whatever. but nope. not a word. but anyway. thanks for getting me all that vacation time in may. i'm going to fill it up with people that are interested in seeing me. have a great day, life, eternity. love, the superjanel"

i don't think that will produce anything positive, though. and i'm not really looking to be mean. let's try again...

version 2.0
"hello, it's the superjanel. i haven't heard from you in six days and 12 hours - is everything okay? are you alright? i've been worried. you should call, write, fax, visit. i'd still like to see you, or at least hear from you. you can call whenever, where ever - i'll always answer. i miss you. okay. call later if you want. or not. i'll prolly call you back later anyway. okay. i'm going now. love, the superjanel"

i think i hear a tinge of desperation in that one. let's try again. third time is the charm, right?

version 3.0
"hi, it's superjanel. i'm not sure what's going on here but i haven't heard from you in a while. i don't know whether to be concerned or what i'm doing with all this vacation time i have coming up. i guess it would be nice to hear from you either way. hope you're doing well and maybe i'll talk to you later? we can discuss what a bitch barry bonds is, if you'd like. no pressure. love, the superjanel"

that may be the best one yet. version 3.0 is scheduled for release this afternoon, i do believe.

thanks for all your support, readers.
love,
superjanel

should i bend over? should i look older?

i was up at the ass crack of dawn this morning.

dawn for the superiorjanel, that is, which arrives promptly anytime before noon and when my alarm goes off.

bitches, that was 0648 this morning. holy crizzap.

and i got shit done. laundry. car wash. room cleaning. i even vacuumed my car. i don't even vacuum my house - for real. i despise vacuuming. the noise makes me crazy.

anyway. i so got shit done. then the roommate and i went to peoria because my lil star was getting out of the hospital and i want to be supportive.

if you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter.

i'm not 100 percent sold on the idea of her being home but the decision isn't mine to make. so i can only hope that things get better for her.

gran massa and i went out for dinner number two with amy, the resident twatwaffle. that word cracks me up. i think it means queef but only with more letters. i had drinks with dinner. i didn't even eat dinner, i just drank. and i got a hello kitty charm for my phone. it's adorable. i feel like a genuine imitation ling ling.

got back to the raging metropolis that is dbq and went drinking some more. this post is coming at you fully loaded, people. i promised myself i wouldn't drink and dial but i know i did it anyway. baxter, i miss talking to you.

and now i'm home and in bed and i'm a little buzzed and a whole lot tired. i should go to bed before things get crazy around here.

word.

love,
superfreakinnoselfcontrolindrinkinganddialingjanel

i want to wear the gold medal... naked.

welcome back, boys and girls. it's been a while. have you missed me? don't lie. you know you missed me. i've missed me and i've been with me all weekend. and what a weird weekend it was. i could tell you about it, but i don't want to harm innocent parties. i don't even really want to harm the guilty parties...

but it was fun. so did i tell you that my schedule at work got changed? yeah, it did. and i was fully aware of it but for some reason it didn't sink in that it was taking effect last saturday. so last saturday i was three hours late for work. after the warning my adorable boss gave me that one more occurrance would be my last occurance and most likely my last day, i was happy to learn that ignorance and illiteracy are not cause for an unexcused absence and i'm still employed. at least i think i am. i guess i'll know for sure when i try to go to work on thursday.

so saturday, i worked for three hours, drove back to so. iowa for three hours and got my drink on... a little more than usual, even. it was a messy, messy evening. but it was a fun evening. bacardi and cola and (a few too many) southern hospitality make the janel an interesting girl. interesting to hang out with, interesting to talk to, and definitely interesting to find in a truck at 0400 in the morning. but such is my life and the lives of those that choose to hang out with me...

sunday, i woke up to like 17 missed phone calls because my phone had been on silent and so had my alarm, which means that i also overslept and woke up in a panic. got to work, napped in the parking lot and woke up realizing that i'd lost my license and my debit card the night before, but retracing my steps i remembered where they were and who to contact to get them back, even though that's a little weird because he's got a wifey that answers the phone. ('yeah, hi, i'm the superjanel, and i used to go to school with you and i hated you then and i still don't really like you, but can i talk to your husband? i think he has something of mine that i left in his truck last night when we were out drinking until dawn and i'd like to get them back...') yeah. that makes for good conversation. in southern iowa, those are grounds for murder. i've prolly got a hit out on me. damn it. thanks reent.

sunday was a long day. hungover, tired as crap, couldn't wait to go home and go to bed. but i did make it through my downloaded episode of the office, which was great, because how often do you really get to hear someone say 'i accidentally cross-dressed today.' i'm going to try that out on someone.

monday. monday morning i drove back down to c-town to work job #2. not a very interesting day, pretty slow. gran massa and i managed to piss off my mom beyond recognition and i realized that not every one appreciates my sense of humor. and i know not everyone appreciates the gran massa's. (just apologize, dude. just do it.) so i'm still feeling bad about that. monday afternoon i drove to the dutch village of all that is holy, misspelled, hidden back in the back of the closet and fucking overpriced, with nigel and her crew. ate ice cream and cheese with snackmaster bob and then went to see roberto and his new pad, which is adorable and i cannot wait to sleep on his sofa! monday night i talked to baxter and told him about the dream of the century i had the night before. holy crap, i can't even think about it right now because i'm supposed to be all presentable and stuff... LOL. just a few more days. i'm so excited! :D

tuesday. today. got a phone call from my momma at quarter after one this morning. she wanted to know where i was, she was worried. i don't generally laugh at this type of thing, it's not good to worry my mom, but it cracked me up because i was upstairs sleeping in my old room. got phone calls at 0300, 0330, 0415, 0500, 0600, 0630 and 0700. not even phone calls i wanted (there are some people i'd talk to at any hour - sleeping or not, but this is not one of them). someone wants to know where i am - at that hour? are you kidding me? dumbass, i'm sleeping and i wish you were too so you'd quit drunk dialing me in the middle of the damn night. gahhh! go home and beat your wife, isn't that what you're supposed to be doing after you've been out all night - not calling me to tell me weirdo things... i just want my driver's license back.

spent some of the morning on the phone with my attorney. boys and girls, i've got an announcement to make, are you ready for this?

~*~*~*~i'm officially single.~*~*~*~

yup. done. over. no more. i'm keeping the last name because no one can pronounce or spell my old one, but sistas, i'm out. i'm done. i'm free. and it feels good. it feels really good. on my way home from work tonight i have to stop and sign one piece of paper and then i'm finished. it's been a long time coming but it's for the best. do i harbor bad feelings? meh. not really worth it. takes to much energy to hate someone and i'd rather spend that energy on other things and other people. i feel great about this. and then after i get home tonight me and the roommate are tying one on in honor of my newfound freedom. woohoo!

and then i'm going home and drunk dialing my .... friend. :)

what do you call someone in a situation like this? friend is the only thing that seems to make sense and even then, it feels a little.... weird. i don't like my friends this way, you know? i'm leaving in a few days for the big "meeting" and i'm nervous as a whore in church about the whole thing. but it'll be fun... i'm really looking forward to this. it's time to meet new people, try new things, see new places.

except for canada. fuck those canadians and their bacon.

i'm out kiddos. off to find things to do.

love,

superfreakinfinallysingleandi'mheadedtovirginiajanel

xoxoxoxo

i'm [not] lovin' it. at least i don't think i am.

who knew a car ride and free breakfast could lead to such lofty goals? really. what are the chances that the one morning i'm awake before 0800 (0723 to be exact) and i ride along to take willie to work that i end up with a job offer? how weird. i don't know what to do. i think if i take it i'll have to become a morning person. we all know how well that works for the superjanel...

my cell phone like froze last night. just locked up and looked all ganked up. i was not happy. my cell phone is my life. what would i do without a cell phone? i would be so bored...

there's a goldfish at petsmart i want so bad. he's yellow and i think he weighs about six pounds, he's that big. i'd need another tank for him if i got him. but i'm poor at the moment so i'm going to have to hold off.

next week, i got mids at work. ew. what's up with that? i barely have the seniority to work here, much less work mids here. i'd prefer to work nights.

boys and girls, i need to go to lbb. the station idiot has come back from a small vacation and she's got the mouth of a sailor and the stories to go with. anyone up for a trip to lbb? :D she cracks me up. she's a genius i tell you. smart things the station idiot has said this evening:

• that can't be a penis. that looks like cauliflower.
• you know barbara streisand has never had sex, right?
• i don't think i want to get married. my husband might get injured and become impotent and then i'd have to cheat. but i'm going to marry a rich doctor, so i guess it would have to be an accident with a scalpel.
• if i lost 15 pounds i'd work at a strip club. (you'd have to see her to truly appreciate this. 15 pounds off her left foot, maybe.)

call or don't call...? these are the things that i ponder as i sit and rot and wait for my last ord flight.

i can't get anyone to go drinking with me tonight. anyone up for cocktails?