What's a little judgement among friends?

I'm a pretty accepting person. Seriously. If your lifestyle doesn't hamper my lifestyle, generally I could give two shits about what you do in your spare time. But I got pissed yesterday and in fact I'm still pissed today, the more I think about this. And feel free to tell me if my line of thinking is wrong; it wouldn't be the first time. After all, I put my thoughts out there on the world wide interweb-thing so people can openly argue with me... or try to sell me Chinese Viagra, there seems to be a lot of that going on lately.

Anyway.

Let me preface this with a few bits of information.

1. I'm aware that people have different beliefs. I'm no dummy; it's what makes the world go 'round. And I know that I'm not going to agree with everything everyone says; that's what makes me, me.
2. I know that when people find something that makes them happy, they want to share. It's human nature. Examples: "Mint M&M's rock my world and you should try them; you're going to love them." "The Octagon is the best movie of all time - you need to watch it." "Tyler Florence is the hottest man alive and therefore everything he cooks is AMAZING, I'm not kidding." See?
3. In spite of the fact that I publish many of the minute details of my life here and on Facebook, I'm sort of a private person. There are two things I think shouldn't come up in conversation with strangers or with casual friends: politics and religion. And not because I'm not informed (although I don't watch Fox News 24/7 nor do I attend church on a regular basis) - but because some things are just private. To me, faith is a very private thing. My relationship with God is just that - my relationship. Last time I checked, I didn't need to have to check with anyone else in order to maintain that relationship. When and if I choose to divulge that information is my prerogative.
4. And just as a side note, I have known two door-to-door vacuum salespeople, two travelling missionaries and have family that belongs to the Church of Latter Day Saints.

So taking into consideration all of the above information, read the following narrative and decide if my feelings are out of line.

The Bee and I hosted a small get-together yesterday afternoon. My youngest brother and his significant other and their new (adorable!) puppy as well as a friend of the Bee's and the friend's older brother. We grilled hamburgers, cut up a watermelon and ate too many no-bake cookies. Good times, right?

Sort of. The Bee and I are lackadaisical (at best) in our church attendance, as is my brother. We each have faith, in our own personal ways, and believe in the Lord but religion is not at the forefront of our daily lives, even though we're aware that it would provide comfort and stability to our relationships and our lives in general. We get that. I get that. However, the friend and the friend's brother are members of the Church of Latter Day Saints, have strong beliefs and convictions and, as former missionaries, are happy to spread the word of Jesus Christ into the lives and homes of their friends and even the homes of strangers.

This is where I start to get pissed.

This isn't my first encounter with the Bee's friend and it's not my first encounter with the friend's brother. However, it was my first encounter with the two of them in my home, eating the meal that we provided to them, and enjoying our hospitality. It's also not the first time that the Bee has heard their spiel - he's listened quietly and declined, he's spoken loudly and declined. Knowing that he's not interested in their message, don't you think they would have passed on offering up their message once more?

Nope. After dinner and during (too many) no-bake cookies, here it comes: "I have a gift for you that I'd like to leave here for you to peruse at your disposal. It's a gift that changed my life and I think it could change yours..."

What?! Are you serious?

Now, since it's the Bee's long-time (we're talking they shared diapers and playpens) friend, I decided to stay out of this conversation and see how he would handle it. The friend continued. "I have a book I'm going to give to you, it's 521 pages but you don't have to read all of that. I'm going to mark a few passages that I think will improve your life."

Not joking here.

In the three years that I've known the Bee, I don't think I've seen him pick up a book unless he was moving it out of his way or using it to steady a drink. He's not a literary kind of guy; I know this and accept this about him. His friend knows this too, having attended high school with him and probably assisting him in passing classes that required large amounts of reading. But the friend continued. "As the man of the house, it's your decision as to whether or not you allow your family to enjoy such happiness..."

STOP. RIGHT. THERE.

First off, "the man of the house" makes all the decisions that affect the family? Since when? The man in this house can't ever decide what we're having for dinner, much less make the decision to join a church and bring happiness into our (apparently) dismal lives. Second, who are you, friend, to make the judgement that the man of this house and his family need to be saved and you're the one to bring us to the light? By coming into our home and telling us that our lives need improved and here is the path to that improvement, isn't this friend passing judgement on the way we live our lives, the decisions we make and the relationships we have with God? Who is he to do that? What is so hard about accepting the idea that we do not need his gift, we have not asked for his gift and that we will not be acknowledging his gift into our lives? Why can't we all continue to be friends without the constant rift of religion? Knowing that God accepts all his children, sinners or saints, regardless of the path they choose - shouldn't that be enough to keep the propaganda at bay and allow friends to be friends?

But, like I said, I chose to stay out of this discussion, knowing that whatever came out of my mouth would likely be words that discouraged further barbecues, and I wanted to see how the Bee would respond to his friend. The Bee's response? Gobble, gobble, freaking gobble. After imbibing in a little bit (ha.) of Wild Turkey and Coke, he generously accepted the invitation to keep the book, read the message and see if this path could improve his life and the lives of his family members. Knowing that I was sitting just a few feet away, close to boiling over with obscenities, he quickly ushered the friend and the brother outside and bid them farewell.

So as I write this, there's a blue book in our kitchen junk drawer, mocking me, inciting me, reminding me that we're apparently not good enough and our lives will forever be lacking because we're not following the chosen path to enlightenment. If I weren't against the desecration of books as a general rule, I would have happily taken the gift outside and set it on the still-burning charcoal grill in the driveway. I'm still pissed about this little exchange; I'm pissed that his friend has the nerve to come into our home and tell us our spiritual beliefs are inadequate, the nerve to brazenly declare his path the best path, the chosen path, the only path. And to be honest, I'm a little peeved at the Bee for letting this take place in our kitchen.

Am I wrong? Am I wrong to be offended by this "invitation?" Should I be more accepting of the message and the messenger, even if the messenger is aware of our lack of interest? Should I write this off as a friend merely sharing his excitement for his passion in life or is it okay to be offended by this shameless speech and bit of propaganda left in my home?

I've given you the topic. Discuss. Get back to me. I'm curious. If I'm wrong, I'll admit it. I'll also be happy to share a gift with you, a gift that I've received that has made absolutely zero change in my life or my beliefs but might make a change in yours - and it's not even a fruitcake.

i still hate peyton manning.

but this is pretty freakin' funny.

editor's note:

this video came to me courtesy of my best-real-non-myspace-friend libbeth. she's actually a peyton manning fan (i know, wtf?, right?). she's asking for royalties and credit for my posting of this video.

okey dokey. there you go. consider yourself royaltied. (um, i don't think that's right. royaltyed? royalty-ed? royalti-ed? i give up. i'm giving you credit, damn it.)

love, superjanel
(the editor)

hook, line and sinker.

i'm not much of a fisherperson. i think it's moderately cruel to catch a fish just for one's personal enjoyment and then toss it back with a new hole in its body. not my cup of tea, really. but just as other people dislike baseball (which is a travesty in of itself) or do not enjoy a good book, i'm not going to bash on the hobbies of others. so in fact this evening i found myself watching people fish when the gran massa wanted to go fishing.

as it turns out, watching people fish is pretty boring. there's not a lot to do except constantly keep out of the way of fishing poles as they're being cast. the river isn't particularly pretty where we were fishing and it's sort of smelly. i did manage to pass the time by concentrating on not falling in the river or in the muck and i did a pretty good job - i didn't even so much as get my shoe wet. yay me. but fishing ended up not getting us anything for dinner (not that i could have brought myself to eat a smelly river fish anyway) and he lost like 25$ in fishing lures, so we went to eat at a new restaurant in town.

baxter called during dinner. just for a few minutes. as previously posted, i'd left a reader's digest version of message 3.0 just a few hours before. that was going to be my last point of contact. if message 3.0 netted no results - well, so be it. a person can only put herself out there, looking stupid, for so long. but as i hoped, the telly rang. a short discussion - he asked all the right questions and showed the proper amount of concern, which was nice of him. oddly, though, i still find myself mildly frustrated and i'm not sure why.

talked to libbeth this morning and recanted the story as to why i'm making life changes. she's always good to talk to - kind of like my mom. she just has a way of making sense to me. i don't talk to her enough.

i don't have enough sense in my life! i need things that make sense!

i had really good hair today. too bad that the only people that got to see it were my doctor and my roommate. and the people down by the river. and the waitress. seriously, this hair was so good, i wanted it to be seen by large groups of people.

tomorrow i'm going to the laundrymat. clean clothes make me happy. the laundrymat does not but it's a necessary evil.

right now, i think i'm going to go eat ice cream and watch espn.

i'm sort of hungry for coleslaw.

(there's no joke there, it's just true.)

i hate cabbage in all forms except for coleslaw. and i'm pretty picky about the coleslaw i'll eat. like kfc? no freakin' way. that crap comes in 10 gallon buckets. but like homemade slaw they serve in country bumpkin restaraunts - yeah, that shit is yummy.

and i want some. i need to find someone to go eat coleslaw with me.

any takers?

yesterday was a good day. i attended both of my appointments and left feeling hopeful. the first was nothing more than paperwork and getting ready for the actual appointment - which will come in about two weeks - but it's almost like a weight was taken off my shoulders just admitting that there may be an issue there, you know? i feel better just getting it all out in the open. and i supposed that's part of resolution, but it's not one that i'm good at, generally speaking.

so yesterday was good.

yesterday was also practice night at the hallowed half mile. i know, i know, i hated it when i was with you - but there's something so familiar about the place and the people and the atmosphere (and that fucking smell, i can't get that out of my head) that i had to go back and see it just once more. i saw and talked to people i knew and i even dragged along the gran massa - and i still felt very alone in attending. it was a strange feeling. i don't know if i'll go back. perhaps that trip will have cured me.

but i doubt it.

see, i don't want to be one of those discarded people that are shunned from the scene. and i don't want to be a groupie. i don't really know what the purpose of the visit was except that it felt very normal.

and i'm seeking normalcy in any form right now.

i will tell you that i enjoyed it. the sights, the sounds, the smells (omg, the smell) - it just seemed right.

today, i'm posting from the raging metropolis of corydon. i'm home with the folks. while strange there is a tinge of normal to this as well. tomorrow night i'll return to dbq and regular life, but i needed a break, time to breathe, time to think.

for now i'm going to head up to the garage and see what's shakin'. there may be ice cream in my future this afternoon, i'm not sure.

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.

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

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...

my roommate is trying to kill me...

i've had a good couple of days.

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

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

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

i just wish she knew it.

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

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

in dbq.

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

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

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

ugh.

i never should have written a will.

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

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

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

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

love,
superfreakinnotsogreatatlentjanel

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

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

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

it was that nice.

and the sunset was great.

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

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

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

que sera, sera, eh?

meh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

paging captain obvious to gate c4...

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

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

and the answer is the janel.

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

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

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

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

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

i say yes, i have nothing to hide.

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

and then the fun begins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

OMFG.

complete bullshit.

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

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

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

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

i hate them. i hate all of them.

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

asshole.

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

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

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

i'm looking in on the good life...

i hate hospitals. they reek of illness and death. any happiness found in a hospital is confined to a small corner of a single floor; babies and new life are kept hidden away from the general public. instead visitors are welcomed by the overwhelming stench of end-of-life services and dying flowers, sadness and stale coffee. no one ever leaves a hospital looking happy.

i hate hospitals. did i mention that?

today i drove. i drove from dubuque to iowa city (84 miles). i drove from iowa city to des moines (114 miles). i drove from des moines to pella (46 miles). but all that driving calmed my nerves temporarily. here's what i learned:

• dad: my dad has improved 110 percent from his condition yesterday. he is mobile (somewhat) and while his vision is a little blurry, he can speak and function at an almost normal level. he's eating and drinking on a regular schedule. no more morphine. tests were conducted today and with any luck will be released tomorrow to go home. yay!
• grandma: my grandma is not doing so well. her incision is still bleeding, but not as severely. she looks incredibly pale and small and is not keeping food down; she's not even keeping fluids or meds down. she's fighting an obscure staph infection and is facing a six week regimen of daily intravenous antibiotics. they hope she'll be able to go home by friday but this isn't definite.

so. while nothing is wrong with me right now, you never know when something could happen. so i want to lay out some very basic instructions and information for those that will/would take care of the arrangements and distribution of the few things i actually own.

i'm not being morbid, i'm just being prepared.

okay, arrangements. i don't want to be buried. i want to be cremated. but i don't want to be placed in an urn. big lebowski-style, let me go over the ocean over the lava rock at la perouse bay on the island of maui. i don't want a big flowery funeral. and if anyone gets one of those big ugly flower arrangements with the big ribbon that says, "granddaughter" or "friend" i will hunt them down and haunt them for the rest of their days. i hate that shit.

i have specific music i want played.

• the verve: bittersweet symphony
• green day: good riddance
• moby: porcelain
• death cab for cutie: i will follow you into the dark
• the shins: new slang
• radiohead: fake plastic trees
• smashing pumpkins: in the arms of sleep

i don't want anything weepy; if it cannot be a celebration, i don't want anything at all. i hate formal, i hate pompous, i hate traditional. buck the system and get a fucking keg. i mean it.

as far as divvying up what little i own, i want this specifically followed. there are no exceptions to this. no swapping, no white elephant.

• mom: i want my mom to have my giraffe swatch watch and all my books (except for the one i want alex to have) and my book case.
• craig: i want craig to have all my dvds and cds because he doesn't possess enough random pop culture knowledge as it is. craig can also have all my t-shirts because chances are if it's at all cool it was prolly his to begin with.
  
• jorge: i want jorge to have my computer and ipod, because he doesn't have one and thinks he doesn't need one. if he had one he'd love it.
  
• steph: i want steph to have all my jewelry. steph honestly loves pretty things.
  
• mark: i want mark to have my entertainment center and television. he can keep them or burn them or whatever he wants to do with them. he deserves them for every time he's moved them.
• alex: i have a book called the 'little prince' that i want her to have. i also want her to have my swatches (except for the one with the frog on it, i think her mom should have that one) and my tickle bunnies, because i know she understands how important they are.
  
• brent: i want my roommate to have my cats and my fish and my ugly fishtank and my playstation. but you have to promise to take both kitties, not just the gay one.
  
• misty: i want misty to have my cell phone(s) and my beanie babies. lol.
  
• eddy: i want to leave eddy my car and all my debt because he's not yet fully my ex (at least at the time of this publication... hehehe...)
• everything else... that stuff isn't important. i don't really care. i've named all the important stuff. but i retain the right to alter this document at any time.

i feel better getting this out.

i had the strangest dream last night. i dreamt that the gran massa and schmalex were standing in the kitchen with all the cheese i've purchased lately spread out on the counter, holding knives and eating as fast as they could. i wanted cheese so bad but they wouldn't let me have any. the gran massa was laughing maniacally and schmalex wasn't being mean, she just looked sad. according to this site, cheese symbolizes gains and profits. so the gran massa and my cousin are eating my gains and profits. sonsabitches.

next week is winter break at school. another week when i don't have class. but that means that no one else has class either. yay!

tonight i'm holed up in the dutch village with the blanket that really should be mine. if i get up early enough i might just take it with me but i fear the family backlash i may incur. i don't know if it's worth it because apparently my brother, in addition to having no body fat, also has no blankets.

i'm going to bed.

gnite lovelies.
love, superfreakinoverlypreparedforthewrongthingsjanel

captain insano shows no mercy.

madison is the dumbest city in the world.

oh. em. gee.

i hate msn. i hate it. i hate it more than i can describe. i hate it, i hate it, i hate it! (when i make this statement, i want to talk to my grandma on the phone and wear high heels and stomp my feet like henry winkler in the waterboy... hehehe...)

anyway. here is the short version of why i hate madison, wisconsin:

• they don't believe in street signs or road markings of any variety. or lights. and all the goddamn streets look the same.
  
• apparently there is only one way to get to the airport. we did not take it. we didn't take anything close to it.
• even if there isn't a sign that says, don't make a u-turn here, i'm still supposed to fucking know that i can't make a u-turn there.
  
• the cops are assholes. (raise my right hand my ass. "do you know why i'm pulling you over?" "because you got all C's in high school?" motherfuckers. i have strong feelings about law enforcement officials. and they're not positive ones either.)
• apparently something about the polar alignment and the magnetism of the moon in msn throws off the gran massa champ's internal compass. because we were lost as shit both going into town and heading out. we suck.
• i love my gal pal. she's a 'doll', but she's sort of a flake. but i guess if i was inside the bar and watched my friend get pulled over right outside i prolly wouldn't answer my phone either, i'd be laughing so hard. thanks, doll.
  
• it's a long ass drive. period. and cow-shaped cheese does not make everything better. just some things.

are you wondering why i was in madison for the better part of the night last night? yeah, i'm still trying to figure that one out too. no, seriously, the champ had a friend come into the area. he was supposed to fly into cid, but because delta is the stellar airline that they are, he ended up in msn instead. about three hours late. YES. i thought, the champ picked me as a friend, this guy must be somewhat intelligent and/or good looking, gay or not, at least i'll have something entertaining for the next few hours.

um, no.

what the gran massa failed to mention is that the friend was abused as a child by the hairlip fairy. and that instead of a full-facial beating with the proverbial ugly stick, he opted for a half beating and a full lobotomy. this is a grown man, making the statement, "i didn't know the mississippi river was all the way up here."

all the way up here? this is iowa. not the fucking north pole. what the fuck kind of geography are they teaching you in ohio? don't they have any sort of educational standards? will they just graduate anyone who can write their name in cursive and distinguish oranges from apples?

wow. so i distanced myself as soon as i could, even though it was *only* 0430 this morning when we finally got home. short of locking myself in my bedroom, i couldn't get away fast enough. i could feel the mean iq in the house dropping dramatically even though we'd added a third person. it scared the janel.

but thankfully, they're gone now. yay. and the house is quiet, except for the occasional ring of the phone, buzz of the im, or the splash of the kitty falling in the fish tank. i don't know who was more surpised, the kitty or the fish. i guess i'm going to have to start paying attention to that kind of stuff when i'm home.

damn you kitties, don't you know i'm busy?

i got the nicest text message today: 'i just wanted you to know i'm thinking about you.' i wore the biggest, goofiest grin for like two hours. it was great.

and now, now i think i'm going to go to bed. i'm tired. boo.

gnite, lovelies.
love, superfreakindon'tbringyourdumbassfriendsaroundmejanel

i'm hungry.

last night i thought for sure that someone was vandalizing the house but it turns out it was just really, really windy and noisy.

i had that dream with jeccers in it again, except this time i was the new kid at school and she was already at school and she was a raging bitch and a half, which if you know her is much more true to life. i really liked english class with mrs. thompson (who actually was my high school english teacher) - she let us participate in wine tastings and drink mgd while watching finding nemo. i don't know how any of this relates to english, but whatever, it's *my* dream. anyway. my guidance counselor showed me my page in the upcoming yearbook (which was a bunch of pictures i hated) and then gave me a bunch of oranges and sent me home.

i swear i'm not on any sort of hallucinogenic drugs. but i could explain why i dreamt about each and every one of those things. ready?

• jeccers: i was talking to my aunt last night and apparently jeccers is working on some sort of teaching degree, or was. anyway, she subsitute taught for my cousin and in doing so was a super-huge-mega-biotch.
• school: school in my dreams means school in life. (duh. that was hard.)
• mrs. thompson: my hs english teacher would be really upset with me if she knew how i was considering putting my writing skills to work to pay my rent this month. sorry, mrs. t. but i promise not to use run-on sentences and overuse the comma.
• wine tastings and mgd: apparently i'm coming off my sabbatical this evening in honor of a friend of the grand massa champ coming to town. subconciously, i must be a little excited about it. hehehe...
• finding nemo: i watched gilda and gene, the clownfish in the kitchen, for a ridiculously long time last night. they're so stinking cute it's pathetic. i hear they're having babies. i wonder if they're going to need a baby shower...? how does this work with fish? is it like hamsters? do they eat their babies when they get annoyed? 'shut up you little bastards...don't tell me no! come here, no i mean it come here... *GULP* ... oh hell, i just ate amy. and i sort of liked her. now we're down to all boys...'
  
• guidance counselor: i could use a guidance counselor. i could use some guidance. (couldn't we all?) but no, this directly relates to the conversation i had with my aunt about my cousin. (i worry about my schmalexandra.)
• yearbook: i fear change. period. end of story. and those were some really awful, nasty ass pictures. and that jeccers bitch was looking over her shoulder laughing. i ought to put the smack down on her. ugh.
  
• oranges: this one i don't get. i looked this one up in a book i have that's supposed to interpret your dreams. it says food means "food for thought or satisafaction, sexually". let me assure you that it's not the latter. but when i look it up online it says that oranges are a sign of health and prosperity (YAY ME!). i'm all about health and prosperity, bitches. :D

and that's how the superjanel interprets dreams. but i can't lay around and do this all day. i have things to do, phone calls to make, fish to feed (well, not anymore). and i'm hungry!

peas out, bitches. love, the superfreakinhungryjanel

ps - yay for grilled cheese!

now PRANCE... work it girl

i had the strangest dream this morning, about a long lost friend. well, she used to be a friend. i'll get into that in a little bit. when i was growing up, my best friend was jeccers. she had an annoying little brother and an even more annoying mother that very few people liked. she had a pillow that i got to sleep on that felt like it was full of jello and a basket in the hallway closet that was full of socks. i'm pretty sure she's the reason i don't wear white socks ever - i was always jealous of her stripes and dots and crazy colors. she had a closet full of clothes like nothing i'd ever seen before and since she apparently stopped growing in the fifth grade (this girl was petite with a capital T; the first T, not the second T) she could wear most of them even as a teenager.

but about this dream. you have to know that i haven't seen her in about six years. and it's my own doing.

i dreamt i was in a wedding. i was shopping for white satin pants (OMG.) which i found at banana republic (so if i'm going to look like a giant dairy cow, i guess i'm going to be a stylish dairy cow). anyway. i get my pants and i drive to centerville. it's a long drive. i drive to a modified version of my parents house and she's there - jeccers. i'm so excited to see her i start to cry. but i don't say anything to her except that if i'm going to be in her wedding she has to do my hair - which, by the way is short and straight and absolutely adorable (gahhh).

the wedding is at night. i can't find any shoes; apparently i didn't bring any. i wear tennis shoes and these mega-expensive, mega-unflattering *white satin pants* (i'm feeling like a member of abba here or something) and i go tell jeccers she has to fix my hair. we're in the basement of this house that is supposedly my parents except it doesn't look anything like my parents and it smells like stale water so i tell her it's from the floods and hurricane katrina and she just nods. (we're in iowa.) she tells me she's missed me and she begins to cry. we hug. i spill something on those god awful pants. i freak out because now i can't wear them and she says its okay. which if you knew jeccers at all, it would not be okay. she also tells me that instead of my current (blue) tennis shoes, i should just go barefoot.

okay.

wedding time. i'm standing up there, all ex-matronly of honour, or something like that and i'm the tallest person in the room. it's an odd feeling. i'm searching for people i know but her family isn't there and while that's no heartbreaker, it's kind of weird. here she comes, also wearing white satin pants. odd. so we're all standing up there and there's no groom. i'm sort of waiting for her jackass of a husband to arrive - maybe this is some rededication of the vows ceremony i've been tricked into attending. but she says no, she dumped that loser years ago.

maybe she got smarter.

instead, here comes this mexican guy and his entourage of like 14 people, all with their no shirts on. this was the most fucked up wedding i've ever been too. i completely expected to hear bone thugs-n-harmony after the matrimonial kiss but it was barry manilow.

and somehow that's okay. and then i woke up.

isn't that weird?

so why aren't i friends with this girl today? well, mostly it has to do with her mom. her mom is a psycho turbo mega bitch and a half. about six years ago they lied to my landlord and convinced him that they were family members so he'd let them into my apartment. for what, i don't remember now. and they left me the nastiest letter. so i told them to fuck off and i haven't spoken to them since.

and what's with the drag queen? well, you'd have to ask her. it was one of those inside jokes. sometimes i do miss her.

i wonder if you know what you're in for?

the sun is actually shining here today. i was beginning to think that never happened here. i wonder if i suffer from seasonal affective disorder? maybe i'm just a hypochondriac. maybe i should go tan. hmmm... so yesterday was a long day. drive, work, drive. i'm good at driving long distances and getting better every week. the drive is getting shorter - does that mean i'm getting used to it or i'm falling asleep in the middle of it? i'm not sure. but it doesn't seem to take as long as it used to. i could have stayed in the dutch village but i just didn't want to. i ate dinner with nigel and snackmaster bob and the chil'ens. they're adorable and funny and sweet but they're the absolute best form of birth control ever. nigel's little boy looks like a short little eminem but acts like the rain man, for reasons unknown he'll just yell out numbers, like 19. ha. no kids for me, not anytime soon. so today i'm going to go to the bank and do some homework and soak up some sunshine and maybe wash my car and get rid of all the fast food bags inside and go to the supermarket because i'm out of milk and i'm hungry for cheese. those are my big plans. i know - pretty exciting. i rock.

hiking is just walking where its okay to pee

ugh. according to msn health, today is the most depressing day of the year. all the more reason to stay in bed where it's warm. it's not that cold in the house, it's just not as warm as my bed. i love my bed. it's big and comfy and soft and covered in blankets and pillows and it's just awesome. i had two really awesome pillows to go with my bed, but one is out on loan. for some reason, i don't think i'll ever see it again. i will collect on that someday.

i miss my job. i'm bored as hell with nothing to do and in a few weeks i'm going to be feeling the repercussions of this small "vacation" when i don't have any dollars to pay rent. (readers, feel free to fill the tip jar. i'll even hand make thank you cards with construction paper and markers.) i never thought i'd miss a job; that's so out of character for me. how bizaare. but true. i actually liked my job, i loved the people i worked with - all except a select few i guess.

i talked to mrs robinson last night. we're still planning a trip to cancun sometime soon. it needs to be sooner rather than later because i'm going to lose my flight benefits here pretty quick when my work paperwork gets all processed. that's one downfall to this leave thing that i'm on. the gran massa champ seems to think that i can just call sue and say 'i want to go to cun for a four day drunken fuck fest' and she'll just approve that. i tend to think otherwise. anyway. mrs robinson is in hpn for tdy and she's drinking up a storm and i'm jealous. it sounds like fun. she says all the pax are botoxed to the hilt and wearing fur and that makes me laugh. botoxed, fur wearing uppity women that look perpetually surprised flying eagle. nice. :D

today is best gram's surgery. i called and talked to her last night. she didn't want to talk about it, she wanted to talk about me instead. i think she was anxious about it but she never really said so. i know she just wants it to be over. the entire clan (and i do mean clan; i think there's like 10 or 12 people at the hospital) is in the waiting room right now. she goes in at noon. i'm going to call momma in a few minutos and check in. i'm nervous for her.

so me and nigel talked this morning. i was having an issue with ... life? she cracks me up. only a truly wonderful friend would offer to drive four hours with a roll of 'date' tape and a stack of pornos. i love her more than words can describe, she's the bestest. she wants to go drunken sledding this weekend. that could be fun. :)

okay. there has to be something more productive i can be doing.

peas out.
love,
superfreakinawesomejanel

historically, this should be an all-nighter

this is school-eve-eve. when i was still in school, and even up into high school, i would stay up all night on school-eve-eve because on school-eve i would be so freakin nervous i wouldn't be able to sleep at all. but staying up all night on school-eve-eve meant that i would not only sleep all night school-eve but i'd generally oversleep on the first day of school and even yawn all day. in high school libbeth and i used to stay up all night and listen to her mom swear and threaten bodily harm. she once made us get up and wax her car in the middle of the night in an effort to shut us up. she was weird. anyway. i was a really uptight child, very nervous, very anxious. i used to cry if i thought i was awake too late because i didn't think i could get through the next day being tired and i was always afraid that i was the only person in the world that was still awake. i used to cry all the time. wtf? i still cry a lot. but now i don't care if i don't get any sleep at night. i just take a pill. and if that doesn't work, i'll just take another. :D but the point of this is that it's school-eve-eve. meaning that tomorrow night is school-eve and that they day after that is school. yikes.

i'm really good at school. but i'm really bad at going to school. attendance in anything has never been my strong point, you know? this is going to sound conceited but i don't really care because this is my fucking blog, but i haven't ever cared about attendance because i know i can pass, score very well, bullshit my way through whatever better than the average person. doesn't that sound awful? yeah, i know. i don't care. you don't like it, don't read it. i don't think i'm better than everyone else, i know i'm better than everyone else. riiight... anyway, i was discussing attendance because that's really my only weakness. i have really good intentions, like i'll get up one day and plan on going somewhere and then i'll get all distracted by whatever (perkins, the today show, messenger, whatever) and not make it anywhere. or i'll make it where ever i'm going but i'll be way late. i'm not a very timely person. but the people that know me are aware of this and love me in spite of it.

i didn't do a single thing this afternoon. it was awesome. i think i napped, because i started watching a movie and i looked up and it wasn't on anymore. i surfed online for awhile and updated my blog and flickr and my myspace. i played with the kitties and drank milk (which really does taste better out of a glass bottle but what's with the 1.50$ deposit?) and ate bread and watched the snow come down. it's snowing a lot. there's some ice down there too. awesome. i went to the little storage unit today and about fell on my head when i got out of the car. i was going to make brownies but that didn't go far because i packed all my pans. so i ate some brownie mix and got a little sick and threw 94 percent of it away. ick. napoleon dynamite was on comedy central and then some semi-cute comedian and then a couple hours of south park... i am so bored but i just can't bring myself to pack right now.

but the next week will be busy:
mondizzay: send that big ass box to ft dodge. pack kitchen stuff. take to storage unit. pack dresser. take to storage unit. go to the big city. make a bank deposit.
tuesdizzay: assemble a crew of saintly family members/friends to assist in packing/moving on wednesdizzay. pack up uugof with clothes and shoes and shit and drive to dbq to my house which i cannot find. pay landlord a deposit which i hope does not bounce. get a key. unpack clothes and shoes and shit. go to school. drive home.
wednesdizzay: get up early. complain about how tired i am. pack heavy things in a truck of make/model yet to be determined. load uugof with kitties and breakables. lead the convoy to dbq. unpack. put sheets on bed. crash.
thursdizzay: [still asleep]
fridizzay: wake up. drink some milk. feed the kitties. take a shower. get a job. homework.
saturdizzay: do i have to work this dizzay? i'm not sure.
sundizzay: family dinner?

ugh. that makes me tired just thinking about it. i'm going to think about going to bed now. g'nite.

how to tell if you have good friends.

• they will offer to let you sleep on their sofa.
• they will offer to let you sleep on their sofa two nights a week for the rest of your eagle career.
• they'll take your pathetic ass to perkins and let you eat pancakes and steal cookies.
• they'll drive you around when you're not able.
• they'll educate you on time zones so you can plan out your drunk dialing episodes.
• they put the trash can next to the bed and offer to hold your hair.
• they let you cry.
• they hate your ex too.
• they change the last couple numbers of your digits when weird guys ask for your number.

i have awesome friends.

at least my toe's not bleeding anymore.

what a fucking day. today i sought closure. i got nothing. i still don't know if i'm employed, if i'm on leave, if i'm among the dregs of the earth, longing to collect state aid and searching for work. my boss, the dragon lady, is a weak piece of shit. and if i ever find myself with her in a dark alley with a sharp object (or even a dull one, i'm not picky) i'm going to bludgeon her to death. or if she falls off a curb in front of my car, she's out of luck. i don't brake for ineffective managers. ugh. i'm off now until the middle of next week, at least, and i'm going to work on this educational leave thing. if not, i'm done. i think i said this yesterday and i was so frustrated today i almost took my keys and stuck them in between her eyes and told her i was finished (except she snuck out the side door and called me from her cell phone to tell me she was no longer in the building). so i'm going to take some time, calm down and see what happens. gahh.

but the day didn't start off well. the landlord-to-be called to tell me that her fax machine ate all the pages with my name on them so they would need to be refaxed. not an issue, as i was at home with my 47-in-one print-scan-fax-blend-wash-dry-iron-sweep-microwave-400-pound machine at my disposal. so i haul it out of the bedroom and set it up on the breakfast bar so i can plug it in to the phone jack in the kitchen. this thing has 14 cords and they're all 27 feet long so already you know this isn't going to be good. and it does weigh 400 pounds. so i walk around to get it all plugged in, wrap the cord around my foot and pull the entire piece of shit down on my big toe.

my big toe basically explodes. it's all bloody. the printer is making this weird "ehhhhhh, ehhhhhhh, ehhhhhhhh" noise because while my toe has broken it's fall, the power cord has broken off inside the little hole in the back. nice, right? it's fucking great. so i'm bleeding all over the place, trying really hard not to bleed on the shit i need to fax to the landlord-to-be when i hear this awful hairball-yakking sound from the bedroom. the cat is barfing. everywhere. i mean, my toe is really gross looking and i wanted to vomit too, but come on. this is getting ridiculous. so i'm bleeding. the cat's barfing. nothing is being faxed. the phone's ringing. my mom wants to talk about cheap impalas and i'm trying to fish the broken pieces of this power cord out of the hole in the back of my printer with my 50$ tweezerman tweezers when my tweezers spring.

come on. how much worse can this day get? let's review: big fucking bloody toe. big fucking bloody broken printer. bloody carpet. vomiting cat. sprung 50$ tweezers. unibrow. shoes that go squish, squish, squish because i threw away all my bandaids in a fit of rage because my friends can't stay out of my medicine cabinet. (you know you were snooping!)

and to top it all off, i still don't know if i'm (un)employed. holy hell.

there were some good things though. once the papers were faxed, landlord-to-be called and she's now our landlord. we got the house. yay! we have a garage (with no opener but the gran massa champ seems to think he can install that... lol) and i have two bedrooms. i also sold two more longaberger baskets today. i went out tonight with pals and didn't get completely inebriated for once but instead held a nice buzz. i love my friends. i love them so much i think i may come back down next wednesday night just to see them. :) i met bob's girlfriend, she's the sweetest thing ever. i think i'm going to go home to acapulco with ernie in march. i'm going to have to start saving my dollars. or get a job or something. i got to touch shane's butt and that was really nice. if it weren't completely unsanitary i'd restrain from washing my hand for a while. *sigh*

so i have to be at work in c-town in about six hours or so. i think i may see if i can push that back. i'm going to be tired. i'm tired right now.

peas out.
love,
superfreakinadorablejanel