it's late.

and i'm tired. i have lots of thoughts but no energy to put them into words. i'm bruised but in good spirits. and i'm going to go to bed. more in the morning.

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

wake up! it's time for the ROYAL RUMBLE!

do you watch wrestling? i'm not talking about college boys in speedos, grappling each other all greco-roman style. i'm talking over the top, jumping from the rafters wwe sweaty men and half-nekkid women wrestling, the kind where chairs are thrown and hair is long and muscles are rampant.

yeah, i don't watch either. i quit watching about the time that miss elizabeth chose the macho man over hulk hogan and it was never quite the same after andre the giant died. omg, i can't believe i just told you that. oh dear. don't hold it against me, i was merely a child!

anyway, i don't [currently] watch.

but see, i don't have to. i wake up to wwe-style wrestling every day. it's like a personal private show in my bedroom. i only wish i was talking like john cena up in my shit - i'm not. every morning i wake up to wwe-style wrestling starring my kittehs, mason and mischa.

it's awesome.

in the far corner, we've got mason "heavy paws" mason and he is a big kitteh. weighing in at about 17 pounds, you don't want to mess with his heavy paws. he'll bat the holy crap out of you for no good reason.

in this corner, we've got mischa "lil piggy" mason, who on the other hand, weighs in at about 6 pounds but because she acts like a cranked up cracker kitteh, you still don't want to mess with her - you just don't know where she's going next.

and let the games begin. DING.

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. :)

i need someone to ease my mind

friday the 13th. all the wackos get on planes on friday the 13th. add that to tornadoes in dallas and we've got the makings of an interesting day at work. i purposely pissed off half a dozen people tonight just because i wasn't in the mood to be of any assistance. isn't that terrible? i was just crabby and really for no good reason.

one of my all-time top five favorite questions that a passenger will pose: why isn't my bag here? generally, i'll commiserate with them, 'i know, you were in ord for a good 26 hours and we still managed to miss your bag.' today, i had no sympathy and i flat out told someone that if i could get to the root of the problem as to why certain bags wouldn't be loaded in spite of a three hour layover i certainly wouldn't be a lowly bag agent in fucking cid taking their fucking claim. he didn't have much to say, but i thought i heard, 'what a fuckin' bitch' as he walked away. and then he came back, claiming his parking ticket was in his bag and what was i going to do about that? i told him that he was going to get in his car and drive to the parking people see what they were going to do about that because i'm not the one that packed his parking ticket in his checked luggage. fucking morons, all of them.

i hate passengers. but keep flying my airline because i need a job. a job that takes me places i want to go, i want to see...

work, work, work. i can't get used to my new schedule and the fact that i'm supposed to be sleeping semi-regular hours. i'm just not able. if i have to get a real job, i'm in real trouble. because i can't seem to fall asleep before 0100, expcept for last night and i was asleep at 2100 except for snackmaster bob calling to verbally abuse me because he's a retard. i mean really - yes, i relayed your concern and perhaps i shouldn't have, but it's not me yelling and screaming and carrying on and getting your dumb ass kicked out of your own house.

for the love.

i'm kind of tired. i'm going to bed. i have to try to be up at a "normal" hour tomorrow. ew.

canada, here i come...

i'm still at work. boys and girls, it's like, o-dark-thirty and i'd like to be home, in bed, with visions of terrance and philip and tom green in my head, but alas i'm still sitting in ops, waiting on a fucking plane full of 49 pissy people and a not so cute fo that's not worth looking at to even make up for my inconvenience.

the nerve!

so look at my horoscope for monday...

"A conversation could take place today between you and a love partner that makes you both very, very happy, Janelle. The status of your relationship is likely to step up to the next level, and you should both be more than ready. A tip, however: let your partner do most of the talking. At times like this, you're going to want to express everything you feel, but right now, it might be better to listen. "

hmmm...

the furbies have faith, more than i. or maybe they know something i don't, after all they are furbies and they do know. they know everything.

only like, 27 more minutes until the plane gets here. yahoo.