did you know?

• treatment effects are flammable.
• cute assholes in high school only get cuter and slimier with age.
• telling a girlfriend to "get bent" is not a good way to get laid.
• being cute is a good way to get free drinks.
• just because you had ear surgery doesn't mean you can hear any better, apparently.
• some people will never change.
• some places will never change.
• but the faces change.
• i still have no idea what i'm doing.
• and blogging and drinking still equals a big no-no.
• i really don't want to go to his family dinner tomorrow.
• in fact, i'm not sure that after being told to "get bent" that i want much to do with him.
• at the moment, i'm kind of nauseous.
• my phone dials people at random. like libbeth. i swear, i'm not prank calling you.
• my god, those high school assholes just get cuter with age. OMG.
• i need to go to bed and sleep this off.
• i love free drinks.
• have i ever told you that.
• i have to get out of this town. it's killing me. and my judgment.
• DUDE.
• i got kick ass tickets to see dane cook in november. and that is so fucking awesome i don't know what to do about it.
• and that one sentence just totally fucked my momentum.
• jc.
• i wish i could just go out and get shitty drunk and not have to worry about HIM for once.
• sometimes i wish there weren't a him at all.
• and sometimes i love him.
• yeah, i meant that.
• is meant really a word?
• it's not asking me to spell check that.
• aren't bullet points awesome?
• i should go to bed.
• i'm telling you, he's fucking HOT now.
• jc.
• okay.
• bed.
• no more blogging.
• i do heart bullet points.
• so i went to the bar tonight with like 66$.
• and i came home with 59$. and that's awesome.
• if it's free, it's for me.
• i had crab for dinner.
• i stabbed myself in the thumb with the crab thingy.
• i'm completely rambling now.
• DUDE. HE WAS HOT.
• okay.
• gnite.
• love,
  
• the
• super
• janel
• i
  
• love
• bullet
• points
• i'm done now. i swear.
• one more. it's not going to kill you.
  
• now i'm really done.
• vodka cranberry. YUM.
  
• gnite. :)
  

hers my nome dr. now go practice your spelling.

ugh. sunday night again? where did my weekend go? really, i should be going to bed. i have to be up at the ASS CRACK of dawn tomorrow. no really. the ASS CRACK. i have like three alarms and a wake up call request in just to make sure that my lazy ass gets out of bed in the morning. i don't know what the issue is - i just can't seem to do it. and then i stand in the shower for like 45 minutes - i don't know why. i don't know if i'm sleeping or what, but when i wake up, the whole upper half of the house is foggy and the bar of soap is gone.

so things seem to be going well - work is great, family is great, money is eh, friends are great and then the bf just like fucking freaks out on a weekly fucking basis and i have no idea what to do about it. in all my life, i've never seen anyone act the way he acts. you know how there are times when you want your significant other to show some emotion, to not act like a zombie, to show that they care and that you mean something? ladies, really, quit your complaining. because when they do show emotion, act like (immature) people, show that they care and that you mean something to them, you'll honestly be wishing that he'd just go back to watching football, putting dirty clothes in the hamper and holding the remote control like he fucking owns it.

really. i honestly think that i'd rather do his laundry than resort to the junior high fucking bullshit that came about on friday evening. ugh. rather than relive all the gory details, let me just tell you this: jealousy is all the fun you *think* someone has had (isn't that a great quote?). he doesn't trust me, and maybe with some good reason but not the reasons he has in mind, he doesn't respect my decisions (at least not the ones made in his absence) and there was no one he wouldn't have taken it out on if i, and several others, hadn't stopped him. i've spent a good portion of my weekend apologizing to those people for his behavior; he doesn't remember much of it. but i don't get it. i've never known anyone to be so jealous and really over nothing - or at least what i see as very insignificant. he apologized. i told him i can't deal with that and i won't deal with that. we'll see. in the midst of all that, i hear from mr. mittens himself that he's leaving his wife. which is all i've ever wanted him to say for the last six months. except now i'm not with him; i'm with king bee. and doesn't that just figure?

so my mind is just a mess. the bee and i had a great week, it was awesome. i hung out with he and his family a couple of nights, he came down to see me a couple of nights - it really seemed like progress, like we were finally getting comfortable with one another. and then we have this massive ... setback? outburst? event? and here i am. i don't want to have to babysit my bf. but that's certainly what it felt like saturday morning at 0200. the rest of the weekend was great; but we hung out here, didn't go out hardly at all and avoided the entire friend scene. is that what its going to take?

but that's enough about that. let's talk about something else.

so i think i'm going through a johnny cash phase. all my clothes for work seem to be black. wtf? i'm feeling a little goth, like maybe i should paint my fingernails black and stop washing my hair. what do you think?

speaking of work, my boss wants to give the two of us that don't work on the weekends a blackberry to answer email leads. me and a blackberry on friday and saturday nights. i was telling nigel about this and didn't think much of it until she pointed out that i am one heck of a drunk texter. oh yeah... "yeah, show me your nipples and i'll sell you this car..."

so the other day i was at nigel's house, she was making me dinner. and i was talking to her 9-year-old daughter about these custom made dolls that you can buy that look just like you. they are so dead on, it's like freaky. and they're so expensive, they must be extracting dna from the paperwork you send in. but they won't make scars or cleft chins or anything like that. well i thought it said you couldn't have a doll with a cleft palette, which sort of makes sense, who wants an ugly fucking doll like that? but nigel's daughter didn't know what a cleft palette was, she'd never heard of a harelip - so i had to explain it. by drawing a diagram. where's libbeth when you need her?

i'm getting sick. another bladder infection. this pisses me off.

oh. so i bought and downloaded the new kanye cd. it's the bestest ever. i legally downloaded it because my mom doesn't like people knocking on the door, ever, so i don't think lars from metallica would be a good houseguest.

"yarrrr.... i'm lars.... and you're fucking music pirate."

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

bitches be runnin' wild, man

i hate three wise men. i hate them more than i can describe. but i got home, license, debit card and 17$ lip gloss in tow so i can't say it was a bad night.

more to come later, i have a headache and i need to take a shower.

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'm not wearing any pants. film at 11.

i didn't go. i prolly would have had a good time but i just didn't want to. the one coworker i just don't trust was going and the other coworker that i just don't trust myself with was going and my conscience tells me it just wouldn't have ended well.

but there's always next weekend.

instead, i came home and talked on the phone and took a bubble bath and watched baseball tonight. cubs won. yankees are currently tied. i love baseball. my fantasy baseball team sucks, though.

it was a nice and quiet evening. but now i can't sleep. i kind of want to play ps2 but i don't want to venture into the roommate's room.

why did i set up my playstation in there?

oh well. i'm going to go read a book and see if i can't fall asleep.

yankees won. :)

to go or not to go?

i work in a couple hours. i'd rather be sleeping. but i'm off, supposedly, at 1900 if all goes as scheduled. i'm supposed to go out with a few people from work this evening but i'm just not feeling it, i don't know why. it'd prolly be good for me but after last weekend's shenanigans, i was just sort of looking forward to a nice quiet weekend at home. besides, they go out in cid and then i have to go home to dbq, and the drive sucks sober, i can only imagine how much fun it is after a drink or two.

(mom, i'm kidding.)

it sounds like i'm looking for excuses and i probably am. to go or not to go?

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?

next week, we're going to mexico!

all right blogging world... are you ready for this? be warned, it's lengthy. but it's worth reading.

***

my first trip out of the country... an hour by hour, play by play analysis of the fantasmical adventures of the gran massa and the superjanel...

day one: hour one

we took a six hour delay, coded to cough syrup and ord. don't eat at blimpies. it's not good car food. the cows are big but they're not buffalo. my bank sucks and i don't know juanita and eduardo - they're not my children.

day one: hour two

second stop at the kickapoo kwik stop. in the bathroom, the tampon machine is chained and padlocked to the wall. no joke. i heard a grown man say the word n****r in a public place (and we're only in wisconsin!) and my atm card FINALLY works! i've decided what i'm getting the gran massa for his birthday - i'm going to take out a billboard that will advertise the following: BRENT - AVAILABLE - SINGLE, GAY & LOOKING - 555.555.5555. he's not pleased with this idea. (but yet he said i could advertise his phone number... what's up with that?)

day one: hour three

in the grand state of wisconsin, there is a city named cataract. it's not just an eye disease. also in wisconsin, all roads lead to madison. it's hell. all sorts signs pointing to madison, yet there are no signs IN madison. i still hate madison. we entered trempealeu-pepe-le-peeu county - pronounced "fuck that", according to the all-knowing gran massa of everything, who "is not a judge" (rewind) "is not a judge." lots of contruction. boo. it's brr here. i toungued a trucker and he liked it. there's a barn where you can buy any or all of the following: cheese, artwork, antiques, lattes and liquor and that's AWESOME.

day one: hour four

i really want a map; i can't access the one in brent's head. but i do know i want to stop at exit 52 and i want access to the money - we're going to the adult superstore, baby! okay. so i learned the hard way why i shouldn't keep my phone in my pocket - i just made a completely random phone call from the potty and left gran massa a 6 minute voice mail. you can hear me flushing. omg. maps! yay! and coloring books and crayons! double yay! except kari (who was wearing a bandaid on her nose from covering a nose piercing) tried to suck me into the conveyor belt - she scared me! gran massa wants to steal babies from random folk at walmart and keep them for a lil' while, just to see if people notice. i told him i think that's a little weird and that if that's really true, he should conspire with my mom. it's officially more brr now. and i cried over homeless people and brent said that they didn't need money they just needed razors. apparently that karma thing is starting tomorrow...

day one: hour five

not much to report here. lots of janis joplin, lots of therapy. i'm sending you a bill. or you can take it off my rent.

day one: hour six

word of the day: totagatic. it's similar to deltamatic and used to described totally ignorant and ganked up things in wisconsin. i'll give you an example: the city of madison is totagatic and i fucking hate it. in solon springs you can get liqoured up and buy sports equipment, i'm not sure if those two activities should be completed at the same time but i hope they have a first aid kit. we almost ran over a deer head. just the head. ew. and we might run out of petrol. that's AWESOME. gran massa is making me feel bad for not calling baxter - it's kind of late and he's been kinda sleepy and not very talkative lately. maybe i'll call. up here they have signs for reindeer in the road. i need to reformat my internal hard drive, i could be a god damn doctor. format drive j:? yes. so i made the call. and i talked to sheena, she still sounds hot. we're in superior, wisconsin. well, well - big head much? what the fuck are you so superior to, except maybe madison. have i mentioned how much i hate madison? my camera isn't working. and brent's is on crack, holy crizzap. there are billion cows here and milk costs a freakin' fortune. "live deeper, love bigger, leave wider..." it's gran massa's new slogan, and thank god it's dark, that's all i have to say.

day one: hour seven

baxter called, i adore that ringtone. :) plans have been made and my horoscope came true. how rockstar is that? time for granny's onion (ring) boobs and gran massa's friend pat rice, who makes kiddie car bombs for pre-adolescents and advises against actually ordering a car bomb while in ireland, apparently the outcome is different than that while in the states.

day one: hour eight

more granny's onion boobs and i played with the food. more pat rice. florida won the ncaa tourney and my bracket was officially fucked (but that's been going on for a while now). i was having flashbacks to the 2006 ncaa tourney and chocolate martinis and ord and ramp training... LOL. i heart joakim noah. we're exercising tomorrow but only for four minutes. granny's onion rings have my guts in dismay. and it's fucking cold.

day one: hour nine

it's dark. and it doesn't look much like east dubuque. minnesotans are racist bastards, much like wisconsinites (unless you're from madison, and then you're just dumb), they have a river called paleface and another one called whiteface. nice. brent's not tired but his ass is. i think we should find a bar. midnight: we are officially in bum fuck egypt. brent's phone has no service, mine has five bars. woot! the deer are friendly here. they wave their little hoofs and say "hi" while standing so close to the damn road they ought to be in the damn car.

day one: hour ten

vermillion motel, cook, mn. off to the cook muni, which is the local term for bar. brent's hot for the guy in the white shirt but he stands no chance because i'm the only one with tits for miles. (that and i'm not on meth.) six drinks and four shots for a grand total of 22$. rock on. and the bartender goes to knoxville every summer AND he's not a race fan. he makes a great drink called a southern hospitality (red bull, watermelon schnapps, and so co... you've got to try it) AND he knows what a sam hill's whore is! woot! we get invited to an afterparty. we're both quite buzzed, but it sounds like fun. we're there.

day one: hour eleven

afterparty at rachel's. she's a recovering meth addict and the way we find this out is by watching her play her tivo-ed news reports for us, as well as her "don't do meth" commercials where she looks like a cracked-out meth head. she's interesting. she has vodka somewhere in the house but i can't find it. mikey and white shirt boy are entertaining but the gran massa is ready to go after one cheap beer. so much for the afterparty. it's time to go back to the motel. we should have walked.

day one: hour twelve

(at this point, i have no idea what hour it really is.) motel. bed. sleep sounds good. brent can't remember the name of the guy in the white shirt and thus has started referring to him as "fuck me hard." i've made a mental note not to touch the gran massa's bedding in the a.m. while getting up to turn off the light in the room, i went to get into bed and missed it entirely, landing on the floor after bouncing off the corner. this makes me laugh for a long, long time. gnite...

day two: hour 19

daylight. awake. phone ringing. we're in a room paneled from floor to ceiling in knotty pine, not naughty as in bad, but knotty. however the idea of naughty, naughty pine makes us giggle. then we're sort of weirded out when we realize that we have the same toothbrush. how bizarro is that? in minnesota, they have spiders that don't die, even if you flush them down the drain with scalding hot water for a long, long time. they just crawl back up. we've been given a coupon for a free breakfast, consisting of coffee, milk or soda BUT NO JUICE, under any circumstances, no matter what, ever, even if i'm dying and the only cure is juice. suffer, bitch. no juice for you.

day two: hour 20

mcdonald's in cook is hiring. but they only want happy people. so neither of us can apply. our breakfast order consisted of the following: two sausage biscuits (mine), one steak and egg bagel (his), three milks (two white and one chocolate - all mine) and one bottle of water (his). do you think i ate a lot? take into consideration that the gran massa ate 1.5 creme filled chocolate covered long johns and can of soda ten minutes prior. i look like i'm on a damn diet. plus i needed some grease to soak up the beer. i'm not good at beer. i'm driving and we're not mad, we're just in the city of cusson and we have nothing much to write aboot.

day two: hour 21

we're in coochie county and i kissed a giant ass fish. brent has vowed to flirt with the customs agent in the hopes to get a body cavity search because he's not getting much lovin' these days. in hind sight, this may have been a poor decision. a revelation has occurred in the 01 gold alero: we're not as smart as we thought we were and i quickly prove this when i once again run my head into the ceiling of the car. this is like the third time i've done this over the course of the trip so far and i may be mildly concussed. it all started when i decided i wanted to take snow to home to send to baxter. international falls. is this how we get to canada? i have to give the lady 6$ before she'll answer me, which i think is a rip off but they call it a toll bridge.

day two: hour 22

this hour is spent in the canadian customs office. we already cleared customs, but we voluntarily went in because i wanted a stamp in my virgin passport. so we voluntarily hand over our documents to a very angry looking and unpolite canandian gun toting fuckhead customs officer, who takes his time thumbing through the gran massa's last two years of travel history. again, we answer their questions and watch as he takes the passports to someone else for stamps. we have to answer questions again. and then we're ordered to sit. forever. then brent gets called back into an office where's he's chained to a desk and flogged by a large man in leather pants... no, not really. they ran a background check on him and found his owi, which apparently is a big deal in canada. big deal enough they don't allow owi offenders to enter. or leave. i guess they could have kept him if he'd committed the crime there. but since he has one, they (politely, i'm sure) asked him if he'd like to voluntarily leave the country. as the other option was deportation, he opted for the former and was promptly issued a neat-o piece of paper that said "brent garbett is not allowed in canada. ever. again. ya you betcha. love, canada. now get the hell out." or something to that effect. but i did get my passport stamp. next stop, us border patrol.
they're way nicer. they laughed about him getting rejected by canada and said it's like being rejected by an ugly boyfriend you never really liked in the fist place... at this point, we are officially no longer friends with canada and i say fuck that bacon. this concludes the janel's journey onto foreign soil, except the fun keeps going...

day two: hour 23

back down the road and we're officially cusson (the city, that is) at canada. gran massa doesn't want to talk about it but my point of view is that it could have been worse, like he could have been rejected by canada and the us and then he would have to live on that bridge in one of the blue buildings that he claims is prolly full of isrealis. i have to give the canadians credit; must keep the pakistanis in a separate building because it's pretty quiet up there, the little that i saw of it. it's snowing like a mother. i'm still driving for fear of being followed by the canadian mounted police. really good burgers; my tummy is in dismay. again. in the car on the way to buy magnets i watched him kick his own ass with the passenger seat of his car. classic brent. you should have been there. if his jaw's all swollen tomorrow, it wasn't a bar fight, it was his own damn fault.

day two: hour 24

brent is thowing a hissy fit. i'm not sure why. we've figured out a way to make money in minnesota: we're going to buy a plow and attach it to the front of the alero and drive really fast down the road and i'm going to roll down the window and throw sand because these assholes don't know how to plow. grr. and that's not grand rapids. roads in town = okay. roads out of town = okay so far. gran massa is not making scared faces or noises. 1514: goodbye cook.

day two: hour 25

gran massa has discovered a new way to blow... his nose that is. sort of like a farmer's blow but with a twizzler. use your imagination. it happened too quickly for me to get a picture. in minnesota they worship heavy equipment. they just don't use it because the road sucks. still. i was angry and sort of snapped because the gran massa is quite melancholy. brent discovered the way to make a woman happy, even though that's sort of useless knowledge for him. it involves not making the wife angry in the bedroom and popcorn shrimp from long john silvers everywhere, if you know what i mean, dude.

day two: hour 26

i'm in a tizzy over the cubbies being sold and mark cuban as a prospective buyer. we recapped the last 26 hours and cracked ourselves up because that's how we roll. drove through the raging metropolis that is twig, mn... twigs are not just small sticks, apparently. but there are no berries in sight. it's really snowing now and i've decided that i want to dictate things for the gran massa to write down; he takes that to mean that i want a dick-ta phone - he apparently thinks i want a penis shaped phone, even though i don't like penises anywhere near my ears. i defined the meteorlogical term of blizzard in the hopes of getting brent to understand that not all snow equals a blizzard and i got him to admit that we are not driving in a blizzard.

day two: hour 27

in duluth they know how to plow. we followed three plows in a synchronized swimming routine for several miles. it was great. brent was all zinged out, thinking he was hearing shakira and as it turned out, she was along for the ride (on his old cell phone which shouldn't have been working. how bizaare). as an apology for being snarky, i bought him a present from a high-class machine in the bathroom as we left duluth. neither of us knew what it was and i was a little afraid to find out. turns out it was a genuine imitation spanish fly. funny stuff. i twizzler slapped that bitch for screaming like a little girl as we went down a cliff. we couldn't find the four minute gym. or the pleasure palace. :( no super work outs, no new toys.

day two: hour 28

captain's log (neener, neener, neener): we've got scared faces and noises. the roads suck. it's our luck to travel to canada and through minnesota on the only day this year they've had snow. we ROCK.

day two: hour 29

it's sleeting, which is rock star cool. my mom called to remind me how dumb this entire idea was. cars in the ditch... and another one. i accused the gran massa of being dramatic. he emphatically and dramatically denied such allegations and wondered why on earth i would ever say such things, as he threw both hands in the air and made that super melodramatic face like no one loves him and someone just ran over his dog. exactly.

day two: hour 30

i've heard the same two songs for two days straight now and if i ever hear natasha bedfuckingfield again i'm going to start kicking babies. meanwhile, the superfly gran massa just continues to shake his ass to the same two songs. how is that possible? i'd ask this outloud, but the answer is probably long and dramatic. mother nature is a jerk. the gran massa is driving and everytime we get passed by anything - a semi, a car, a goddamn horse and buggy - his knuckles go white and he starts whimpering. south of spooner (not spooning, get your mind out of the gutter!) the snow stopped. thank god. the wisconsin deer are not as polite as the minnesota deer, but they're prolly from madison where everyone is an asshole. i accused brent of being argumentative; his response? "NO I'M NOT!" i love it.

day two: hour 31

is that a beat? i think i hear a beat...

day two: hour 32

i've officially been ordered out of the car, and i'm not talking fast food style. nope, i was ordered out of the car in a stop, drop and roll, bitch, fashion and even got called kunt with a "k". RUDE. brent's macking on some dude from tol whom he wants to carry his baby via text message, it's the new and improved version of safe sex.

and you're now officially up to date. everything written from this point forward is written as it happens...

2039: i'm wondering if i should call baxter. we're pondering the sanity of this trip. it cost a little more than we expected and the results were not as splendiferous as they should have been. he almost got deported and i only got two magnets. however, we did meet a bunch of really nice meth heads in a cute little town, i got to swear at madison-ites which is my new favorite hobby and neither of us have showered yet today, which if you consider it, are the makings of a great vacation.

brent's top five highlights of trip to canada:

• seeing pat rice
• being back up north
• the cook muni
• hearing janel fall out of the bed (tha-thump, tha-thump)
• being allowed back into the usa

janel's top five highlights of trip to canada:

• falling off the bed in the middle of the night
• phone call from baxter
• i'm not a passport virgin!
• hearing the us border patrol make fun of brent about getting the body cavity search
• cook muni and the afterparty

janel's top five lowlights of trip to canada:

• inconsistent cell phone service and brent's damn beep-beeping cell phone
• my fucking bank sucks
• getting to canada and seeing only the inside of the customs office
• knowing that getting to see only the inside of the customs office is technically my fault :(
• i don't have that accent!

brent's top five lowlights of trip to canada:

• lots and lots of white (snow). he doesn't think white is the new pink.
• gas prices.
• blimpies. not a good way to start a trip.
• us border patrol making fun of him possibly being anally probed.
• gas from granny's onion boobs.

2103: brent just made the most annoying sound in the world because he has five cell phone bars and i only have two. he just broke up with his text message baby carrying internet boyfriend, but the make up text sex will be great, if toledo timmy ever writes back.

2205: i talked to baxter. so sweet, i know he’s tired and has to get up early but he had time for my crazy ass “my roommate got rejected by nine million canadians” story. he asked why i didn't call him when i was drunk. oh honey. you think you know me, but you have no idea. a drunk superjanel with a phone in her hand is a dangerous, dangerous thing.

brent’s driving all over the road like a crazy ass crack whore, i don’t really know what that means but it can’t be good. we’re in leon, and i’m not talking france, there’s a town in wisconsin called leon. and they have a muni. i’m going to start saying muni instead of bar, it’s kind of cute.

2208: the gran massa didn’t break up with his baby daddy from tol. they’re just on a break because baby daddy was up past his curfew and had to go to bed and brent’s cell phone has no service. woot! but I do! woot!

2214: we’re still not home yet, i don’t think we’ll ever get home.

this is especially true because i got us lost on the detour. we ended up 15 miles north of the road we needed to be on, and while it was curvy and fun, i had to pee and he was pissy that we were lost. but now we're home. no fish have died and the cats are okay. all is well in the house of vehemence.

next week... MEXICO!

photos to come tomorrow. :)

steve, let's go drinking...

similar to drinking with the janel...

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

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

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.

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

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...

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.

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

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.

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.

no more drinking and blogging.

OMG. when i drink, someone needs to take this shit away from me. i am a melodramatic little whiny sucky baby. ugh.