give me as little responsibility as possible.

the roommate left today and the house is mine until sunday night. what shall i do in his absence?

absolutely nothing. it will be quiet and it will be wonderful. i'm going to lounge, read my MIT tech review magazines and watch sportscenter. when i'm not working, that is... because i only have two more days of work and then i have 10 days off!

woot!

so what am i doing with my 10 days off? (because i know you really want to know...)

i've got some appointments and a job interview, i want to go see my cousins in the quad cities, i'm working one day at job #2, i'm contemplating a bit of travel (to the east coast! all you easterners best prepare for locusts and fire raining from the sky!) and of course, i'll spend some time loafing.

or i could stay busy and sling ice cream at the ice cream store during the overrated flower fesitvus in the dutch village of all that is holy, overpriced, poorly spelled and hidden in the back of the closet, although the idea of that is far from appealing.

yes, folks. i'm talking about tulip time. what? you've not heard of tulip time? that's ludicrous! (not ludacris but similar.) that's absurd! that's ... actually pretty fuckin' normal if you're not from around here.

do let me enlighten you. tulip time is a three-day festivus in the dutch village of all that is holy, overpriced, poorly spelled and hidden in the back of the closet - otherwise known as pella. i like to call those that live there pella-cans but they like to call themselves dutch. dutch people and tulips and windmills - this is the core of tulip time; it's a big festivus for the rest of us who aren't dutch and don't care to be but we want to watch a big parade and eat mini pancakes for three days straight and let the dutch bastards think we envy them and their wooden shoes and super green lawns.

it's kind of silly, unless you're dutch. they take it so seriously i could be assassinated for having said that.

i'm not particularly wanting to do that next weekend, but it is an option. i could also go to charlotte if libbeth would have me. or maybe i'll stick to my original plans, i'm not sure.

SO. today was a great day. i got my new debit card in the mail, which replaces the one i got a few weeks ago when i lost the original one in a truck. the second one i lost in a convenience store while on a drunken tirade in wisconisin about a week and half ago. it was later recovered in a rack of donuts (which is a story in of itself) but just to be safe i cancelled it. now i'm on my third one, and i plan on either drilling a hole in it and wearing it around my wrist or (b) keeping it in my bra at all times.

but what if i'm not wearing a bra? oh god. then what will i do if i have to get gas? (right now, my mom is thinking wtf would you be doing getting gas and NOT wearing a bra?) so that idea may not work so well. it's too bad i can't just have that magnetic strip just burned into my arm or something, then i could just paypass myself at the convenience store.

now that's an idea...

AND, this is exciting. this happened today. i told you this was going to be a good day!!

I GOT MY DIVORCE PAPERS IN THE MAIL! WOOT! i want to frame the sonsabitches. i'm so happy, it's just fabulous! it's final, it's over, it's done, i'm audi 5000. i called everyone i could think of to let them know - cuz i was having a martha stewart moment: 'it's a good thing.'

and what else happened today? ahh yes... the phone call. i followed grandmaster bob's (formerly snackmaster bob) advice and look what happened? i got the phone call i was wondering about. once again, my fears concerning an ebola outbreak in virginia were quelled. there were no loose and rampant mountain lions in dave matthews country. in fact, there was not so much as a tsunami, earthquake or outbreak of really contagious bubonic plague. (as opposed to the strain of bubonic plague that is not so contagious? hmm...) baxter is just ... tired. a lot. awww...

tired? wtf? tired? i'm tired a lot but bitch, if i say i'm calling you, it's a fucking event. break out the streamers and confetti cuz my bitch ass will be on the damn phone and you better say thank you sir, may i have another.

and that's how i feel about that. i'll let you know if i'm over being pissy when i see if he follows through on his assurance that he'd call tomorrow. but just so you know, i'm not holding my breath...

i have to go watch sportscenter now. i'll be back later.

love,
superfreakinhatingthesoonersjanel :)

glad it's not my bed.

that, friends, is cat puke.

that is cat puke on bed sheets.

that is cat puke on bed sheets that aren't on my bed!

great aim, kitties! :)

(i know, i shouldn't be laughing, right? this makes me evil, right? wrong! turn my cat homo and see what happens!)

okay. i'm going to go get ready for work now. it's going to be a good day.

OH - my previously lost fish is now found. he's just antisocial. yesss...

i live ze unknown, i love ze unknown, i am ze unknown

boys and girls, it's going to be a good day. i can just tell.

reasons today will not suck:

1. the sun is shining
2. i'm in a great mood.
3. the cubs didn't lose yesterday (they also didn't play yesterday, but never mind that now).
4. i was awake early enough to eat breakfast. woot!

there are a number of things that i'm not looking at, though, in order to keep my spirits up... the yankees lost, the nationals won, my phone apparently is not taking calls from people i'm interested in hearing from, and i've lost my new fish.

let me clarify that fish thing. he's not lost as in he died, although i'm sure that's coming because i own a fish tank of doom and death, but lost as in can't find. lost as in he's in there somewhere but i'm not sure where. i'm sure you're thinking, just as i am, it's a glass box with four walls - how can you NOT FIND anything? i'm thinking the same thing. i checked behind it and as far as i can tell, he hasn't committed lil' fishie suicide but around here, nothing would surprise me.

i flipped out on the roommate this morning, good mood and all. we had this discussion just a day and a half ago about how much of a slob he is not (his opinion, not mine) and i got up this morning to find pizza, toothbrushes, empty diet pepsi cans and the remnants of science experiment on the kitchen counter. granted, most of this was there when i went to bed last night but it's twice as irritating to wake up to. i will admit that the skillet and the spatula are my responsibility so i can't say it's entirely his mess. but it's looking a little gross and it's bothering me immensely.

i figure there's two options i have in this situation. one involves me leaving my hairbrush and my vibrator and some milk cartons and porn on the coffee table or i could just ask him to clean it up. you know how i am about confrontation, so i've been perusing porn all morning looking for just the right disturbing heterosexual image to leave out for him to see... riiiight.

i refuse to clean it up so i stomped quietly entered my pajama wearing ass into his wing of the house and demanded politely asked if he would mind cleaning it up before he leaves for work tonight. that's not rude, is it? he leaves for the weekend and i'm generally left with all the dirty dishes or filthy floor or dishwasher to empty or trash to take out. wtf? just because i have boobs does not make me your housemaid. gahhh...

i do like my quiet weekends, though. it's kind of my weekly retreat from the ongoing activity and pandemonium that comes from living with the gran massa. not that activity and pandemonium is necessarily a bad thing - it's just a lot for me to deal with. weekend down time is always appreciated when the alternative is daily life with an overly excitable gay boy cracalacka.

SO. speaking of excitable, let's talk about me. i'm easily excitable but this is not the point. this really is exciting. since i've been reading blogs, i've always loved mr. poon. he's a crack up. so last night i got commented by mr. poon. oh yeah, bitches, that just happened. and he's been kind enough to link to me AND compare me to one of my other all time favorite blog reads. I SO FREAKIN' ROCK. i feel as though i have been validated in writing 402 posts now.

i now have a reason for living. :) other than boys with floppy hair and cocoa puffs and unrequited internet lovin...

another rainy (wednes)day

the gray is starting to affect my mood. and not in a good "i-love-the-rain-it-makes-me-all-sappy-and-creative" kind of way. fuck that. nope, it's making me melancholy and depressed. i need some sunshine, people!

i want sunny days! i want warm! i want a beach! i want to go here! i've been to this beach before; this is kamaole II on the south side of maui in kihei.

*sigh*

i miss hawaii. :(

someday, i'm taking off for somewhere warm and never coming back.

it's been raining for a couple days now. it poured and poured last night - it sounded like the roof was going to blow off our tiny edbq shanty. i love sleeping while it rains. the dreariness today is kind of putting me to sleep. that and a lack of food. i didn't eat breakfast this morning, and i even have breakfast food and options. i just couldn't get my big white butt out of bed early enough to forage through the cabinets.

do you know how early i have to get out of bed to get to job #2? i'm supposed to be here around 0830-ish (although i never get here before 0915), which has me leaving the house at 0500. boys and girls, i didn't get out of bed until 0506 this morning. which doesn't have me arriving at work on time. :(

so this morning on my way to job #2 (which is about 200 miles from home), the roommate called and got snippy with me because his car keys are in my car. dumbass. i'm not the one that left them there, don't get pissy with me. but this occurred after i called and got snippy with him because our electricity was about to be disconnected and i found the bill in my car. wtf? it's no wonder i'm stressed and about to pull my hair out - he's not helping this cause any. boo...

i'm contemplating a serious hair cut. i'm wondering if it's too long. any thoughts, anyone? anyone?

bueller? bueller?

i thought as much. the rain has you all in bed today, doesn't it? i'm jealous...

popeye's chicken is fucking awesome.

this is the grossest thing i've seen in a long time. therefore, i must share.

this last weekend before the gran massa and i came back to dbq, we stopped at popeye's on merle hay road in dsm. because their chicken really is fucking awesome. we bought a dozen biscuits to take home, because they are that good.

that was sunday, mid-day.

this is tuesday. this morning i got up and was going to eat a biscuit, but they were gross. so i threw mine away. when i got home this afternoon from errands and gran massa-driving-around, i wadded up some trash and cleaned off the counter with 409 and a paper towel and but it in the box of biscuits - there were two or three left - and put the entire mess in the trash.

you think when you put something in the trash that it's sort of gone and you don't have to worry about it anymore? i would but i have been proven wrong.

because the gran massa picked through the trash to get to the biscuits to EAT them.

how gross is that?

his defense? 'i was hungry for a biscuit.'

ewww...

i always knew i was important.

ask and you shall receive, boys and girls.

no really.

yesterday i was complaining about word verification on my blog. a little more research and i found out this wasn't standard for all blogger users. it's only for those that are suspected of splogging (spam blogging).

how rude is that? i mean, i've published some crap in my day but i'm not spam!

so this evening i find a nice little message from blogger in my inbox.

"Hello, Your blog has been reviewed, verified, and cleared for regular use so that it will no longer appear as potential spam. If you sign out of Blogger and sign back in again, you should be able to post as normal. Thanks for your patience, and we apologize for any inconvenience this has caused.

Sincerely, The Blogger Team"

well isn't that special? i didn't even request that they do this. it just happened. i heart you, blogger. superjanel will be sticking around for a while longer. :)

today was non-productive. it's like because i got up so early and got stuff done yesterday i was not allowed to arise before 1100 or accomplish anything. i went to best buy and got a sd micro card for my phone, that makes me happy. and then i had lunch at jimmy john's and that always makes me happy. i took the roommate to his appointment and then we bought stuff for the new giant fishtank in the living room, which at the moment has a very odd layer of snot floating on the top. but he's not concerned about it and there's no fish in there yet so nothing is dying, it's just kind of gross.

we ended up in prairie du chien this evening. i don't even really know why, just something to do i guess. they have a cabela's there, which i highly recommend for those of you that are into dead and stuffed and mounted animals. there are lots of them there and they're even propped up all lifelike and in attack mode, picking on other dead, stuffed and mounted animals. it's special. i found the tent i want to buy if i ever have a need to buy a tent. (that's not likely to happen but i guess it's good to be prepared.) this tent has cupholders attached to the inside! and a place to put a heater. it's practically a house but it should be for the bargain basement price of 649$. wtf? that's like a months' rent. cabela's, you can suck my nut.

but i bought a crapload of cheese for like 9$. i love cheese. and they have lots of cheese in wisconsin. don't tell anyone i said this, but i kind of like wisconsin. but all you madison-ites can still suck it. :P

didn't get to have the conversation i wanted to have this evening - at least not with the person i wanted to talk to. isn't it funny how the person you don't want to talk to is the one that always calls? it's like they know they're not wanted so they put themselves in front of you as often as possible and either force you to converse or force you to tell them they're not wanted. except i've made it really hard to actually reject this person so i kind of feel bad just not responding at all. and i've stopped feeling guilty about it. i talked to libbeth about this and she pointed out that it's not my responsibility to make other people's relationships work. while i'm not necessarily an innocent bystander (LOL!) i'm also not 100 percent at fault either.

but anyway. tomorrow's another day. and another phone call made/received/ignored...

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

does drinking dr. pepper make you a doctor? i don't think so!

there is no food in the house and i am hungry. don't go thinking i'm a hog because the food is gone, either - i'm not the one who ate it all. nope. the gran massa ate all the food in the house. all of it. gone. empty. no more. nada. this morning, i was like, okay, i'm out of milk so i'll have one of those granola bars i stuck in the way far back of the cabinet. nope. those are gone too. bastard ate my granola bars! ugh. so tonight i eat cheese. it's either cheese or ucky leftover taco pizza.

maybe i'll start fasting, i'm not sure.

so i'm sort of happy about the fact that this trip to ric didn't pan out this week. lil star is being released from the hospital and she wants me to be there to see her. if i'd been in ric i wouldn't have been able to go - not that i would have ever made to ric, they're getting like feet of rain and floods and hail and locusts and headless horsemen. yup, it's apocolypsing on the east coast, didn't you hear? and would you like to know why? it has nothing to do with sinners - it's because i had a trip planned and god didn't get the memo that i wasn't really going in time to call the whole thing off. sorry east coast. next time i'll try to go somewhere else or at least keep my plans to myself until the very last minute. otherwise you're likely to fall off the edge of the country and become your own little nation because there will prolly be a giant earthquake or something equally awful, like the nationals will win a world series or something.

and that's no gouda.

but this is gouda. i wish i had some gouda. and some apples. and some bread. and some milk. holy crap i'm hungry.

okay, fellow bloggers - i'm curious. is this word verification crap that blogger is putting me through pissing off anyone else or am i the only one? because i'm seriously honked about it and i'm considering giving blogger the official janel heave-ho. i guess i understand the whole concept of word verification but this is what upsets me: they're not words and i can never read them. like right now, the word verification word is "jhundfs." yeah, i'm smart. i know THAT'S NOT A WORD. wtf? and to top it all off, i can never read those stupid things anyway. so it takes me like seven tries just to get my post actually posted. gahhh. stupid blogger. how does that import thing work over at wordpress, anyway? anyone care to tell me? i'm taking it under consideration.

so. boys are also honking me off this evening. and not in a good way, if there even is a good way to be honked. i guess it's possible that with all the apocolypsing out there on the coast that baxter got flooded out of his home or eaten by a giant locust or galloped over by a headless horseman. but i'm putting my money on the idea that his phone just stopped dialing out, for whatever reason. now i know what you're thinking - superjanel, we've been through this before and phones work both ways - like a two way street, you know, it goes both ways? well, not today it doesn't. and tomorrow it won't either. i was the last one to make the effort. now it's his turn.

game on.

so tomorrow i have to get up at the ass crack of dawn so i can go do laundry so i'm not driving naked to go see family. that's just not cool. i've been naked in enough vehicles lately to last me for awhile.

but anyway. i'm going to go gnaw on the entertainment center to take the edge off my appetite before i go to bed.

if you keep talking i'll tell you what you want to hear.

what a weird day. i've been plagued by weird days lately. a zinged out weekend followed by a whacked out monday and tuesday and now wednesday? what on earth could the rest of the week hold?

a couple of things are keeping me from sleeping this evening. my star is in trouble, she's not doing well, her life is completely turned upside down and she's not coping. i'd expect as much from someone in her position at her age, to me it seems normal and maybe only because i've walked in those shoes before. her home life lacks the stability she needs to make any sort of sound decision and the availability of excuses provided by her parents is astounding - why is it that her parent can't be a parent - she can only be a friend? and not even a friend that takes care of you - it's one of those toxic friendships based on jealousy and insecurity. but i'm concerned about her. and my personal experience lends itself to something a little different but i can still relate. i just don't know if she wants me to. i don't know if she wants to hear. i don't want to be a toxic relationship - i don't want to tell her for sympathy, i'm not trying to outdo her and her current situation. i just want her to understand that these feelings, the bleak and cold, the darkness and the loneliness - they pass. they fade. and things get better. she's just got to give it time. that's the only thing that heals those feelings.

i watch situations like this unfold with those around me and i don't think i should have kids. i can't guarantee that i'd be a normal parent. i'm a little too self-involved to be responsible for the welfare of someone else, a little person, someone who would depend on me for life and sustenance.

i mean, some days, i forget to feed the cats...

so last night, after all that i went through yesterday personally, i went to see my lil star in the hospital. i didn't do anything drastic, i was just there to give her an ear, to let her know that i care. that she means the world to me - i mean, for god's sake, i loaned her a tickle bunny. for those of you that know me, you know that there is no other symbol of trust and love that could ever mean more to me. i gave her one of the things in my life that is made of pure happiness - rainbows and sunshine and puppies - and i wanted her to have it, just to know that someone loves her. it's one of the most comforting things in my life and i wanted to share it with her because she means so much to me. i hope she knows that.

and then i reminded her that it was only a loan... but i got her to smile.

i took the gran massa with me last night. he's often misguided but he's nothing if not loyal and last night was no difference. he's a good friend to me. he lets me cry and carry on and be dramatic and stupid and all the while he tries to comfort me as best he knows how. he doesn't always understand but he tries and that's all i can ask. i'm lucky to have him as a friend.

i didn't get to bed until nearly 0700. late dinner, early drinks and bizarre cartoons made for a late, late night.

i didn't accomplish much today. i had a list of things i wanted to do today and it just didn't happen.

i got a disappointing phone call this evening. baxter has to cancel next week's trip. i won't lie, i was a little upset. i found the entire thing a little concerning and i took it a little personally. not necessarily the correct way to take it, but it was my first response. after being coerced into calling him back, i find that i feel much better. although it could completely be his wife and seven children that are keeping me from seeing him this coming week, i have a feeling it's prolly work related and not his fault. i mean, he did sound quite apologetic. unless maybe i'm just a sucker and completely falling for this line of crap. but my gut says otherwise. and so i'm going to go with it. we're going to try to find a weekend that works for both of us... sooner hopefully than later. it's an interesting feeling to be so attracted to someone that technically i've never met - only to know personality-wise makes things interesting to say the least.

and the conversation is always good...

but if the next meeting goes awry, i may begin to think otherwise.

have you ever seen a 4,500$ stuffed animal? gran massa and i went to dinner tonight on his casino points. averaging about 1 point for every 3 dollars played/transacted in the casino, our dinner and my stuffed dog ended up costing about $26,000. it was good and the dog is cute, but when you break down the actual amount of money that essentially changed hands, it's a little sad. but it didn't stop me from gorging on orange roughy and lobster corndogs.

mmm. corndogs. :)

tomorrow i will post photos of my new 4,500$ dog. he's cute. his name is skeez and he requires no baths. woot!

so now i'm going to bed, visions of upcoming vacation in my head. what shall i do with my two days next week? perhaps i'll stay home and be responsible, catch up on work i need to do.

we'll see. gnite.

love,
superfreakindisappointedbutunderstandingjanel

stay home pajama day

so what do e-dbq-er's do on a stay home pajama day?

why, they give the kitties baths!

lil' kitty bath day!






i'm just happy it wasn't my bathtub.

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

sunshine i'm just bored, i'm just checkin' out...

i'm tired of driving. it's all i do anymore. drive, drive, drive. it's a bad thing when you're so used to being in a car that you have to really put energy into concentrating on the road - shouldn't that be the first concern of someone behind the wheel of a car? not for me lately. i talk, i sing, i dance, i read, i eat, i drink - everything but pay attention to the road. i am a menace in a rendezvous. look out, fellow highway cruisers.

today was job #2 today. i enjoy job #2 because it gives me a chance to spend time with my mom and generally other family members. like today i saw jordy laforge and steph, i haven't seen them in a while. and nigel, i got to spend time with nigel. i miss these people! i get my minimum recommended weekly dose and no more. i fully expected to be in trouble, as much as a 27-year-old human can be in trouble, i guess, by my mom for going to canada in the middle of a snowstorm in april in a car with no insurance. yeah, that sort of happened. and then we had a talk. a good talk. she wonders why her children have no common sense, but i think most of that comes with life experience and the rest is bullshit and timing. it's something you can't self-apply - kind of like self tan lotion. you need someone to tell you if you have any glaring white spots that you just can't see yourself. common sense is the same thing - while you have the basic comments, you need someone to come along and fill in the holes and even things out. for me, that's my mom.

finally got my taxes done. i procrastinate even on things that could potentially benefit me. not that it did, but it could have...

do people ever surprise you? because sometimes they surprise the holy shit out of me. i'm talking about several situations/conversations that have occurred over the last few days, all revolving around people in my life.

one... i tried to do something really nice for someone today; i tried to make a dent in a hurt that this person had indicated had bothered them for a long time. i was met with no enthusiasm or response and now my feelings are hurt. isn't that dumb? my feelings are hurt because my friend can be insensitive? there's something not right about that.

two... i came clean in the proverbial sense to another friend today about a situation that lingers over my head for just a little bit longer. i feel better about airing this but i feel bad for dumping it onto an unsuspecting person's shoulders. i guess that's one way to find out how big one's shoulders really are... the nice thing was that my friend didn't get all zinged out, didn't call me names and actually related that he is somewhat of a normal person as well. it's good to know.

three... it's nice to be trusted. it's a nice feeling when someone seeks you out to share their day and their experience and lets you know that they trust you.

i need to go to bed. i'm considering turning over a new leaf and i tend to think that this happens before the afternoon newscast. i've set an alarm. i'll let you know how this goes...

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. :)

i've got nothing to do today but smile...

holy crap, batman. it's april. where did march go? it should come back, because i spaced off getting my tags renewed and now i'm officially driving on expired tags. now i have to drive like a normal person, at normal person speeds and pray that i don't get pulled over and if i do i have to play female and dumb. wtf?

so today, because i'm unable to get my lazy ass out of bed at a decent time and get ready for work, i was running around like crazy trying to get out the door on time. it didn't happen. so when i got in the car and hit the button for the garage door, i apparently didn't give it enough time to fully open. because i put ugoff in reverse and promptly ran right into door.

i am so cool.

yup. it made quite a clamor, which kind of made me laugh. the door continued up, i continued out, and i got out to assess the damage. my poor ugoff is short a few parts - i tend to think they're mostly cosmetic - which i found in the driveway. i even put one of them back on, that's how much i rock. and i played with the door and made sure that it goes up and down.

and it does. it kind of shimmies a little bit, but it's fine. so i got back in the car and threw it in reverse, because this whole driveway-cleaning-garage-door-assessing-ugoff-reassembling ordeal took about 10 minutes and i was already late from watching the weather channel because i heart the words thunderhead and low level moisture (shut up, i don't even want to hear it) - anyway, i threw it in reverse and backed my little buick ass right out of the driveway and into the path of an edbq police officer, who was patrolling the neighborhood for rampant ruffians, hopefully the ones who stole the shit out of the garage, the little bastards.

omg. i think that's all one sentence.

he slammed on his brakes, i slammed on my brakes. i got the finger wag and he flashed the cherries, so if the neighbors didn't already know that i'm retarded from watching me run into the garage door, they now know i'm an idiot from watching me almost hit a cop.

and all this happened before work even started.

oh. em. gee.

and think, my day only gets better from here.

i get to work and it's like, tornado-ing outside. it was great. so me and my compadres, the ones i like, anyway, all pile into an empty (metal) bag cart to watch the storm. wind, lightning, thunder - it was great. until we got blasted with a 70 mph wind gust that lifted all the leftover sand from last winter into the air. until today, i'd never experienced a sand storm. but it sucks. it sucks a lot. in fact, i'm still picking sand out of my freaking scalp. and then the sideways rain. and then the lightning so close it made all our hair stand on end and we sort of realized that we were sitting in a metal bag cart, and rubber wheels or not, we trucked our stupid butts indoors.

and left three planes full of people to sit. because we're not going to work flights with lightning in the area. it was great. two flights were supposed to be there, the third was an okc diversion, trying to get to ord. and the captain was a bitch ass bitch. and if i hear the phrase, 'i don't want to end up on the cover of usa today' anytime in the near future i'm going to freak out and punch a goddman baby, you hear me?

so our tornado-producing storms moved east, and sat in ord for hours which delayed our last fight and i got home at 0300. no april fools, sistas. that's the god's honest truth.

i love my job.

so. i'm feeling a little better now, getting that out.

now for the fun stuff.

baxter's voicemail cracks me up. the chick that gives me options (which is a rant in of itself, options on voicemail. i just want to leave a message. shut the hell up) i have named sheena. and she sounds hot. i talk to sheena a lot, almost as much as i talk to baxter, really...

i doubt he'll be accompanying me and the gran massa to the visit our neighbors to the north. i think he feels more responsibility towards his work/life than i do and therefore doesn't call in sick to do fun things. and that's cool. i've not known too many people like that, but i've heard they exist... they're a rare breed.

now me? i call in sick every chance i get. ooh, is that a twinge of a headache? yeah, um, mike, i'm not feeling so well. oops, i stubbed my toe. yeah, um, mike... except that this gm has a serious hard-on for perfect attendance. little does he know that i have never had perfect attendance anywhere, anytime. so he and his perfect attendance can suck my nut.

...if i had one.

but it'd sure be fun to have baxter along for the ride...

canada: that's like only 29 hours away. we better get there when it's light outside and i can see shit. if i get there and it's dark and looks like here when it's all dark, i'm going to be upset. because i can stay home and experience dark, damn it. this had better be exciting. i want to see something canadian. i don't know what. maybe tom green. isn't he canadian?

yessss.......

okay. i'm going to bed now. i have to work tomorrow. it's my friday! yahoo!

oh, if you're interested, i found the mango. it wasn't smooshy. and some socks, that i don't think were mine, that was a little weird.

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...

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.

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

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

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

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.