why do i always have to buy milk on the day before a major ice store warning? the grocery store was fucking nuts; all the whackjobs were out in droves, buying toilet paper and bread and beer. because we all know that in case of emergency, in the case of a life-or-death weather emergency, we are all going to need toilet paper and bread and beer. enhancing my shopping experience, the token retard sacked my groceries and smashed my bread. (i also happened to be out of bread, lucky fucking me.)
have i mentioned how much i hate grocery shopping? however, i do love groceries, so i guess it's a give and take. i'll give you some money; you take your lame ass to the supermarket and buy me some damn groceries.
i met my goal for the month, my boss was pretty impressed. she was quick to point out that i tend to work harder/achieve more when we're on double bonus days. i wanted to say, "der," but i held my tongue and agreed to work at a uniform level regardless of the availability of a bonus. and then proceeded to do absolutely nothing all afternoon.
can't tell me what to do; you're not the boss of me. oh wait...
the bee is gone for the weekend: it's deer season. our agreement on this is as follows: he doesn't tell me jack shit about it and i pretend that it doesn't exist. i didn't grow up in a hunting family and i have zero interest and a barely measureable level of tolerance for such activities, but if you're going to date an iowa boy, chances are he's going to own a gun and he's going to want to shoot it at live, sometimes cute, animals. and the bee is no exception. i was home when he got home this afternoon and he was about to burst, he was so excited to get out and shoot things.
whatever. i just don't want deer jerky or deer related items in the house, that's all i ask.
did i tell you one of our goldfish died today? karl, my drag queen goldfish, was stuck to the filter intake when i got home. that's never a good sign. neither was the fact that when i "unstuck" him, he just sunk. so now it's fluffy's tank. :(
i'm going to go watch csi: miami. i'm tired.
30 November 2007
29 November 2007
it registered 7.6 on the richter scale.
i did laundry this morning as i was getting ready to go to work. i put three of the bee's pairs of work jeans in the washer as i got in the shower. and when i got out of the shower, it sounded like i was mixing paint. or trying to shake the building off it's foundation. it was like my own personal earthquake in our apartment, it was awesome. our washer and dryer is one of thsoe stackable units, small and cute and fits right in the closet. and i'm slowly learning the limits of its capacity.
see, at my mom's house you can cram a whole hamper full of filthy clothes into the washer and they still come out sparkling clean. but i learned on day one in the new abode (not adobe) that if you put too much in the mini washer, the clothes jump out of the top of the machine and the whole unit, dryer and all, shakes and shimmies its way until its bulging out the door of the closet, like it wants to break out and kick my ass for overstuffing it. like i knew, gosh.
so now when i do laundry, i have to break it down into colors, type and weight of the load. because washing two pairs of pants and two sweatshirts is acceptable. but washing three pairs of pants and two sweatshirts sounds like rapid machine gun fire. and washing three pairs of the bee's pants at one time, well, i'm not going to make that mistake again.
i'm not even going to tell you how long it took me to find the lint trap or what that looked like when i finally discovered it. let me just say this: it's in the stupidist fucking spot imaginable and i have never in my life seen so much lint at once.
it's been mutually agreed that i'll do the laundry and he'll do the man-tasks, like taking out the trash and unloading the dishwasher and killing the bugs. because i freaking HATE taking out the garbage and unloading the dishwasher and there's no way i'm killing bugs unless i'm completely alone and have to break out the bug vacuum. yup - i've got a vacuum just for killing bugs. you put the nozzle over the multi-legged offender and suck that bastard up into a tube of pesticide where he eventually dies a slow and painful death.
bugs are motherfuckers. all of them. even the "cute" ones, like ladybugs and rollie-pollie bugs. yuk, yuk, yuckity motherfucking yuk.
anyway. i'll do the laundry because i'm kind of particular about what gets washed with what - like, i don't want his work pants washed with my nice work pants, because what if they get nasty boy work pant cooties on them? and i want all of my nice shirts washed separate from his work shirts and blah blah blah... you can clearly see where this is going: i'm just a pain in the ass. i know. i'll own that statement. but our clothes are clean and they look nice. i just bet the neighbors freaking hate me for doing the laundry at all hours of the day and night. hahaha... suckers.
when i was a kid, my dad did some of the laundry. those were interesting times. like, there would be periods of time when he was unemployed (and now you see where i get THAT gene) and he'd do the laundry and some of the chores around the house and order lots and lots of magazine subscriptions all while wearing his bill cosby robe and watching reruns of little house on the prairie (he was a big michael landon fan). he once bleached our socks to the point that they disintegrated in our hands as we tried to pull them over our heels. you could practically hear the entire house groan as we put on our socks in unison that morning and the tops of our incredibly white socks ripped off and pulled up to our thighs. i'm pretty careful with the bleach these days.
so yeah. i tried really hard to go to work today. i'm serious. the bee was like, "i'm not going in, wahh, wahh, wahh... let's have an all day underwear party... i don't feel good..." and he called in. but i was all, "somebody's got to make money in this damn house, biznatch." and i got up and got in the shower and got ready for work. no joke, i was out the door at such a time that would have allowed me to be just a few minutes late, which is pretty much the norm. but i got outside and my car wouldn't start and it was cold and my head does hurt, and so i took it all as a sign. a big, glaring, flashing neon sign from god that i wasn't supposed to do much today.
so here i am. the bee is fending phone calls from work as he lies in bed and pretends to be sick. i think he's really just tired, and who am i to point fingers? i'm not at work, i'm on the damn sofa. but whatever. as soon as i can roll him out of bed and outside to jump my car, i'm headed to c-town for a new battery and to see my momma.
i'm going to go work on that.
peas out.
see, at my mom's house you can cram a whole hamper full of filthy clothes into the washer and they still come out sparkling clean. but i learned on day one in the new abode (not adobe) that if you put too much in the mini washer, the clothes jump out of the top of the machine and the whole unit, dryer and all, shakes and shimmies its way until its bulging out the door of the closet, like it wants to break out and kick my ass for overstuffing it. like i knew, gosh.
so now when i do laundry, i have to break it down into colors, type and weight of the load. because washing two pairs of pants and two sweatshirts is acceptable. but washing three pairs of pants and two sweatshirts sounds like rapid machine gun fire. and washing three pairs of the bee's pants at one time, well, i'm not going to make that mistake again.
i'm not even going to tell you how long it took me to find the lint trap or what that looked like when i finally discovered it. let me just say this: it's in the stupidist fucking spot imaginable and i have never in my life seen so much lint at once.
it's been mutually agreed that i'll do the laundry and he'll do the man-tasks, like taking out the trash and unloading the dishwasher and killing the bugs. because i freaking HATE taking out the garbage and unloading the dishwasher and there's no way i'm killing bugs unless i'm completely alone and have to break out the bug vacuum. yup - i've got a vacuum just for killing bugs. you put the nozzle over the multi-legged offender and suck that bastard up into a tube of pesticide where he eventually dies a slow and painful death.
bugs are motherfuckers. all of them. even the "cute" ones, like ladybugs and rollie-pollie bugs. yuk, yuk, yuckity motherfucking yuk.
anyway. i'll do the laundry because i'm kind of particular about what gets washed with what - like, i don't want his work pants washed with my nice work pants, because what if they get nasty boy work pant cooties on them? and i want all of my nice shirts washed separate from his work shirts and blah blah blah... you can clearly see where this is going: i'm just a pain in the ass. i know. i'll own that statement. but our clothes are clean and they look nice. i just bet the neighbors freaking hate me for doing the laundry at all hours of the day and night. hahaha... suckers.
when i was a kid, my dad did some of the laundry. those were interesting times. like, there would be periods of time when he was unemployed (and now you see where i get THAT gene) and he'd do the laundry and some of the chores around the house and order lots and lots of magazine subscriptions all while wearing his bill cosby robe and watching reruns of little house on the prairie (he was a big michael landon fan). he once bleached our socks to the point that they disintegrated in our hands as we tried to pull them over our heels. you could practically hear the entire house groan as we put on our socks in unison that morning and the tops of our incredibly white socks ripped off and pulled up to our thighs. i'm pretty careful with the bleach these days.
so yeah. i tried really hard to go to work today. i'm serious. the bee was like, "i'm not going in, wahh, wahh, wahh... let's have an all day underwear party... i don't feel good..." and he called in. but i was all, "somebody's got to make money in this damn house, biznatch." and i got up and got in the shower and got ready for work. no joke, i was out the door at such a time that would have allowed me to be just a few minutes late, which is pretty much the norm. but i got outside and my car wouldn't start and it was cold and my head does hurt, and so i took it all as a sign. a big, glaring, flashing neon sign from god that i wasn't supposed to do much today.
so here i am. the bee is fending phone calls from work as he lies in bed and pretends to be sick. i think he's really just tired, and who am i to point fingers? i'm not at work, i'm on the damn sofa. but whatever. as soon as i can roll him out of bed and outside to jump my car, i'm headed to c-town for a new battery and to see my momma.
i'm going to go work on that.
peas out.
26 November 2007
look at me, i'm sandra dee...
lousy with... well, never mind. i'm in the mood to watch grease. i don't know why. i'm excited - i have internet at my home. i can blog again! woohoo!
i really don't have anything to write about, my day sort of sucked. i got chewed on by my boss, which i thought was completely undeserved, but isn't it always undeserved? we were crazy ass busy and in the middle of all of that, she wants to have a meeting to discuss ways to stay on top of our tasks and not get buried. i wanted to say that it would be most helpful if we could stop having these fucking meetings every four hours, but i didn't think that would be met with a warm reception so i just smiled and nodded a lot.
i got my car back yesterday. it still wasn't finished; there were wires not connected that had to be reconnected today at the garage at work, to the tune of 152$ that's being paid by the insurance company. i think my insurance adjuster is going to go postal on my body shop guy. i don't know who i feel more sorry for there; i'm just happy to have my car back.
when i do laundry, it gets foggy outside my front door because the vent from the dryer is just outside and the warm air gets trapped upstairs with the cold air from outside. i'm convinced that if i put a big bucket of water and a space heater out there i could make it rain on the steps.
that's power. that would be awesome. i am the janel, i can make it rain.
yeah, i'm out of stuff to talk about. going to bed now.
i really don't have anything to write about, my day sort of sucked. i got chewed on by my boss, which i thought was completely undeserved, but isn't it always undeserved? we were crazy ass busy and in the middle of all of that, she wants to have a meeting to discuss ways to stay on top of our tasks and not get buried. i wanted to say that it would be most helpful if we could stop having these fucking meetings every four hours, but i didn't think that would be met with a warm reception so i just smiled and nodded a lot.
i got my car back yesterday. it still wasn't finished; there were wires not connected that had to be reconnected today at the garage at work, to the tune of 152$ that's being paid by the insurance company. i think my insurance adjuster is going to go postal on my body shop guy. i don't know who i feel more sorry for there; i'm just happy to have my car back.
when i do laundry, it gets foggy outside my front door because the vent from the dryer is just outside and the warm air gets trapped upstairs with the cold air from outside. i'm convinced that if i put a big bucket of water and a space heater out there i could make it rain on the steps.
that's power. that would be awesome. i am the janel, i can make it rain.
yeah, i'm out of stuff to talk about. going to bed now.
21 November 2007
oh for the love.
it's only snow. we're getting three or four inches of snow and you'd think the whole fucking state was on lock-down. we're in the middle of a snow advisory, there's red alerts all over the radar, and everyone at work is in a freaking tizzy. for crying out loud - it's only snow.
and actually, it's kind of nice to look at. i know i'm the minority here, but i kind of like the snow. i like the way it looks and the way it feels, i like the way the sky smells while its snowing - it just smells clean and new. and while this isn't enough snow to 1) stick around for very long or 2) even completely cover the grass, it's pretty. well, it's pretty until it's been plowed and driven over and gets all grey and slimy and sticks to your pant legs and shoes and everything you own is covered in snow slop and salt and crap. yeah, then it's not so pretty.
it just dawned on me that i don't have a snow scraper in the car. because it's in *my* car and not the car i'm driving. motherfuckers. now i have to go buy a snow scraper.
boo hiss boo.
so the other night the bee and i got into it pretty bad. he thinks i don't want him around, i think he doesn't really want to be there and we're both pissy and being nasty and he starts packing his things to leave. and now i've remembered why i hate this living together arrangement - because it's perfectly acceptable for one (or both of us, i guess, although that would be a little extreme) to pack it up and call it quits. it's just that easy. easier for him than for me, since i'm the one with all the shit, but if our argument had continued, he could have been out the door in less than 15 minutes.
guess i'm going to have to pick and choose my arguments from here on out if i don't want that to happen. and i have been grumpy for the last few days and i don't know why. i should be thrilled - tomorrow is turkey day, and let's face it, even mediocre turkey is still pretty fucking good. i'm leery of the noodles, but i'll survive. it's just one day. i'd rather be with my family than his family, but i'm also not in the mood to drive three hours. eww... whomever decided it was a good idea to have turkey day in illinois this year obviously didn't consult these kids - because none of them are going. so tomorrow i'll be hanging with the bee's family, eating around the noodles and pretty much feeling kind of uncomfortable, because that's what the families of significant others do to me.
anyway, back to the being grumpy thing - i'm not really sure why. i don't think i'm grumpy, but i also think i'm perfect, so my line of thought perhaps is a little skewed. i think i used to use my drive home time as detox time - which was easy, when you had 85 miles to drive. now that i'm home in just about as much time as it used to take me to get to the bypass, i don't have any detox time and apparently i'm just a raging psycho bitch.
but our talk ended... okay. i got some stuff off my chest, he got some things out in the open and in general we just cleared the air. i think we're both surprised with where our path has led us thus far and that takes some adjustment. because if you remember right, just six months ago, i wanted to be preparing for work with the peace corps - i was considering volunteering nearly three years of my life in a foreign country. and instead i find myself on a familiar path with unfamiliar company.
which isn't necessarily where i saw myself six months ago, but again, how much of our lives is really ours to control? i'm asking impossible questions, i know, but i guess you have to take what life hands you and roll with it. because karma seems to kick your ass for fighting back.
i'm at work until 7 p.m. again tonight, this is the last night for a while, thank holy heavens. i'm ready to pull my hair out. it's dead fucking silent in this room, all i can hear is the sound of my typing and the dull roar of the furnace blowing through the ducts and it's still colder than crap in this room. i'm wearing two shirts, a sweater and a jacket and i'm still contemplating putting on my mittens, it's that fucking cold.
this weekend is dane cook weekend, oh how i'm looking forward to that. its been a while since i've been out with nigel and snackmaster bob - i just hope they get along well enough for everyone to enjoy the trip. four hours in the car with a spatting nigel and bob could be enough for me to just open the door and jump... after we see dane cook, of course.
i should go out and start my car, let the defrost run and melt off all the snow. that's a good idea, thanks for having it. i think i may go do that now. :)
peas out, and happy turkey day.
love,
superjanel
and actually, it's kind of nice to look at. i know i'm the minority here, but i kind of like the snow. i like the way it looks and the way it feels, i like the way the sky smells while its snowing - it just smells clean and new. and while this isn't enough snow to 1) stick around for very long or 2) even completely cover the grass, it's pretty. well, it's pretty until it's been plowed and driven over and gets all grey and slimy and sticks to your pant legs and shoes and everything you own is covered in snow slop and salt and crap. yeah, then it's not so pretty.
it just dawned on me that i don't have a snow scraper in the car. because it's in *my* car and not the car i'm driving. motherfuckers. now i have to go buy a snow scraper.
boo hiss boo.
so the other night the bee and i got into it pretty bad. he thinks i don't want him around, i think he doesn't really want to be there and we're both pissy and being nasty and he starts packing his things to leave. and now i've remembered why i hate this living together arrangement - because it's perfectly acceptable for one (or both of us, i guess, although that would be a little extreme) to pack it up and call it quits. it's just that easy. easier for him than for me, since i'm the one with all the shit, but if our argument had continued, he could have been out the door in less than 15 minutes.
guess i'm going to have to pick and choose my arguments from here on out if i don't want that to happen. and i have been grumpy for the last few days and i don't know why. i should be thrilled - tomorrow is turkey day, and let's face it, even mediocre turkey is still pretty fucking good. i'm leery of the noodles, but i'll survive. it's just one day. i'd rather be with my family than his family, but i'm also not in the mood to drive three hours. eww... whomever decided it was a good idea to have turkey day in illinois this year obviously didn't consult these kids - because none of them are going. so tomorrow i'll be hanging with the bee's family, eating around the noodles and pretty much feeling kind of uncomfortable, because that's what the families of significant others do to me.
anyway, back to the being grumpy thing - i'm not really sure why. i don't think i'm grumpy, but i also think i'm perfect, so my line of thought perhaps is a little skewed. i think i used to use my drive home time as detox time - which was easy, when you had 85 miles to drive. now that i'm home in just about as much time as it used to take me to get to the bypass, i don't have any detox time and apparently i'm just a raging psycho bitch.
but our talk ended... okay. i got some stuff off my chest, he got some things out in the open and in general we just cleared the air. i think we're both surprised with where our path has led us thus far and that takes some adjustment. because if you remember right, just six months ago, i wanted to be preparing for work with the peace corps - i was considering volunteering nearly three years of my life in a foreign country. and instead i find myself on a familiar path with unfamiliar company.
which isn't necessarily where i saw myself six months ago, but again, how much of our lives is really ours to control? i'm asking impossible questions, i know, but i guess you have to take what life hands you and roll with it. because karma seems to kick your ass for fighting back.
i'm at work until 7 p.m. again tonight, this is the last night for a while, thank holy heavens. i'm ready to pull my hair out. it's dead fucking silent in this room, all i can hear is the sound of my typing and the dull roar of the furnace blowing through the ducts and it's still colder than crap in this room. i'm wearing two shirts, a sweater and a jacket and i'm still contemplating putting on my mittens, it's that fucking cold.
this weekend is dane cook weekend, oh how i'm looking forward to that. its been a while since i've been out with nigel and snackmaster bob - i just hope they get along well enough for everyone to enjoy the trip. four hours in the car with a spatting nigel and bob could be enough for me to just open the door and jump... after we see dane cook, of course.
i should go out and start my car, let the defrost run and melt off all the snow. that's a good idea, thanks for having it. i think i may go do that now. :)
peas out, and happy turkey day.
love,
superjanel
15 November 2007
just wipe, for god's sake.
toilet paper is everywhere these days. two-square economics is taking over the world.
help, i need somebody, not just anybody...
last night i couldn't sleep. i had this giant ball of stress in my stomach that just wouldn't unwind. and i'll admit, there's a few things on my mind. some of them are of my own doing; others are things out of my control. some are just fucking absurd, things that i probably shouldn't be contemplating but i am. isn't it strange sometimes how much of your life is out of your control? its like, no matter what your life plan is, it doesn't really matter because you can't stop what comes at you 94 percent of the time anyway.
i was just thinking about this the other day. i make a million decisions everyday, from where to part my hair to whether or not to eat breakfast to moving in with the bee. and at the time, they seem insignificant, unimportant. but sometimes, hours, days, months, years down the road you turn around and say, "that day, that one day, that one decision i made, it was life changing, but i didn't know it at the time." its just interesting to think about. not that breakfast or where i part my hair are generally life altering decisions. but sometimes the things i think are nothing are acutally something and i just don't know it until it's already passed.
does this mean i just don't pay attention? is everyone like this? do i make snap judgements and not consider the consequences? or is my life out of my hands, to a certain degree? am i just following some path that's been laid out in front of me, direction and destination unknown?
i'm fully aware that some of the decisions i make are less than stellar and i make them anyway. sometimes they fit what i want at that exact moment. sometimes i'm not sure what the fuck i'm doing but i do it in spite of that fact. sometimes i just like to pretend that i know what i'm doing because i'm tired of the indecision - gotta do something even if its wrong.
sometimes i just don't know.
i was just thinking about this the other day. i make a million decisions everyday, from where to part my hair to whether or not to eat breakfast to moving in with the bee. and at the time, they seem insignificant, unimportant. but sometimes, hours, days, months, years down the road you turn around and say, "that day, that one day, that one decision i made, it was life changing, but i didn't know it at the time." its just interesting to think about. not that breakfast or where i part my hair are generally life altering decisions. but sometimes the things i think are nothing are acutally something and i just don't know it until it's already passed.
does this mean i just don't pay attention? is everyone like this? do i make snap judgements and not consider the consequences? or is my life out of my hands, to a certain degree? am i just following some path that's been laid out in front of me, direction and destination unknown?
i'm fully aware that some of the decisions i make are less than stellar and i make them anyway. sometimes they fit what i want at that exact moment. sometimes i'm not sure what the fuck i'm doing but i do it in spite of that fact. sometimes i just like to pretend that i know what i'm doing because i'm tired of the indecision - gotta do something even if its wrong.
sometimes i just don't know.
14 November 2007
wokka wokka wokka
two days in a row! aren't you a bunch of lucky duckies?!
ahh, work. work is swell. i actually like my job (hob). i like my coworkers, with one small exception and she's leaving (again) at the end of the week. actually, i hear that today may be her last day. and that, my friends, is a heartbreaker. because in her absence, i don't know who the office backstabber will be. who will steal my customers? who will snag my appointments while i'm in the bathroom? and where will i get my daily intake of chocolate and caramel if her replacement doesn't keep a candy bowl on her desk?
these are the things that i wonder about.
but no seriously, i have been rocking the casbah (or cash bar or cat box or whatever) at work so far this month. today's kind of slow, but whatever. i worked with my boss at the beginning of the month to set some goals, some actual attainable goals and i'm pretty sure i'm going to make those. that feels pretty good. it's been a while since i've enjoyed a job (hob) this much. or maybe it's just been a while since i've had a job (hob). i'm not sure.
you know what bothers me? cheap toilet paper. and toilet paper put on the roll backwards. that really peeves me. because cheap toilet paper never tears well, especially a new roll. it always shreds and rips and i can never find a good starting point. it's like clear packing tape, when the end is stuck to the roll and you can't find where it starts. omg, that's frustrating. you end up with all these little tape pieces. or toilet paper pieces, since that's what we're really talking about here. if you really want to know, the toilet paper commercials with the bears, where the dance around with two squares and sing about how that's enough for them just pisses me off. because, 1) bears don't use tp, duh 2) bears don't sing or dance, unless we're talking about fozzie bear, wokka wokka, and 3) WHO ONLY USES TWO SQUARES OF TOILET PAPER, GAHH? that's so gross. two squares? i don't have a large ass, not that the size of your ass necessarily predicates how much toilet paper you need to use, but i use way more than two squares. and i am known for having a small, conclave if you will, ass.
moving on.
so my commute has dropped from 85 minutes to 16 minutes. and that rocks my socks. because now i can sleep in. or i can drink chocolate milk in the morning. or do laundry. or watch tv. or sleep in. and with the bee already being there, there's no need for me to be awake at the crack of dawn to make sure he's awake. and that's nice. but i no longer get to honk at nigel and i worry that she's oversleeping and that the rugrats are late for school.
my momma is having surgery next month. not anything easy, not anything outpatient - she's having big scary surgery. and i for one am freaked the fuck out and i know she is too. it's called anterior cervical fusion. they're fusing cadaver bones to degenerating discs in her neck, and the funny part is, she's not even having specific neck pain. but it's part of a neurosurgeon's master plan to save her back and keep her mobile, because the weakness in her legs, arms and bladder is taking over her life. i can't imagine how that feels, especially for such a strong and independent person like my mom. i know how it feels to watch her in such pain and not be able to help, and that's awful. i felt an incredible amount of guilt in moving out and away with her in this condition because i felt like i may have been able to do something while living at home, but now i'm too far away to be of any real help to her. the surgery itself is scary: they go in through the front of the neck, pushing aside semi-important things like the voicebox and arteries and things like that, to get to her spine and vertabrae. her voice may be different when it's all said and done. she'll have a scar. but with any luck, and she's saying it will take some bit of luck, she'll be strong enough to walk. and that's all i want for her. i just want my mom back.
so have i told you i *still* don't have my uugof back yet? nope. he's still a one-eyed raznous, the poor guy. he's missing a headlight, he looks like a pirate. if cars could talk like transformers could talk, mine would say, "yarrgh...." like a pirate. only he'd say it with a german accent because uugof's mother was a volkswagon. as long as he doesn't have a headlight i want him to wear an eye patch so i can be the captain of that ship...
i managed to lose my silverware about a year ago and just recently discovered it. yeah, that sucks my (hypothethical) nut. very not cool, this whole eating with your hands thing. makes cereal a real bitch. apparently when i was moving out of the dutch village of all that is holy, overpriced and stuck in the back of the closet, i left a box in my former abode. (not adobe.) this box was then confiscated by my ex-landlords in a power struggle when my rubber rent check bounced out of their hot little hands and even though i made things right, they still claim they tossed it. bastardos! they ended up tossing my silverware and my saucepans and some good serving bowls. (yesh, i know. i'm a shitty packer. what of it, homeslice?) so the bee and i are eating off of the really nice hyvee plastic stuff for the time being. whatev. not worth wadding my panties over now.
not that i ate cereal last night. last night, the bee and i just sort of foraged. i foraged for a bottle of wine, he foraged for a bag of chips. we both fell asleep happy, i just woke up with a headache. i just get in a mood sometimes for a good bottle of merlot. so i go get one and then i want to drink the whole thing. it doesn't happen often, thank god, because i don't think my head could take it. and when i do it, i have weird ass dreams. bizarre, strange, weird ass things. like that my new landlord got mad that i wanted my screen door fixed so they took away my cell phone and gave me this shitty ass walkman-sized thing to use instead. wtf? i have no idea. anyway. i drank my dinner last night. and it was good.
i'm at work late again tonight. ugh. i'm tired of being here late. i hope the new person works out and isn't creepy and weird like the last new person. here in this department we're getting a reputation for getting people fired. okay, i'm getting a reputation for getting people fired. but i don't care. do your job and we won't have issues. well, do your job and don't comment on my personal life and then we won't have issues. copy that, keester? i thought so...
again, it's taken me all stinkin' day to write this. that sucks. i miss my puter. i have to go to the bathroom. my stomach is upset all the soda i've had to drink today. i'm suffering from adult acne. my friends are calling me a bed wetter because i'm not sure if i want to go out with them this weekend. huh, i guess i'm a little whiny.
and with that, i'm going to sign off and go pretend to find things to do. i have a lot of paper on my desk and that makes me appear to be busy even if i'm not. plus i bet i can spend four minutes in the bathroom washing my hands and then i'm four minutes closer to going home. woot!
peas out.
superireallyhavetopeejanel :)
ahh, work. work is swell. i actually like my job (hob). i like my coworkers, with one small exception and she's leaving (again) at the end of the week. actually, i hear that today may be her last day. and that, my friends, is a heartbreaker. because in her absence, i don't know who the office backstabber will be. who will steal my customers? who will snag my appointments while i'm in the bathroom? and where will i get my daily intake of chocolate and caramel if her replacement doesn't keep a candy bowl on her desk?
these are the things that i wonder about.
but no seriously, i have been rocking the casbah (or cash bar or cat box or whatever) at work so far this month. today's kind of slow, but whatever. i worked with my boss at the beginning of the month to set some goals, some actual attainable goals and i'm pretty sure i'm going to make those. that feels pretty good. it's been a while since i've enjoyed a job (hob) this much. or maybe it's just been a while since i've had a job (hob). i'm not sure.
you know what bothers me? cheap toilet paper. and toilet paper put on the roll backwards. that really peeves me. because cheap toilet paper never tears well, especially a new roll. it always shreds and rips and i can never find a good starting point. it's like clear packing tape, when the end is stuck to the roll and you can't find where it starts. omg, that's frustrating. you end up with all these little tape pieces. or toilet paper pieces, since that's what we're really talking about here. if you really want to know, the toilet paper commercials with the bears, where the dance around with two squares and sing about how that's enough for them just pisses me off. because, 1) bears don't use tp, duh 2) bears don't sing or dance, unless we're talking about fozzie bear, wokka wokka, and 3) WHO ONLY USES TWO SQUARES OF TOILET PAPER, GAHH? that's so gross. two squares? i don't have a large ass, not that the size of your ass necessarily predicates how much toilet paper you need to use, but i use way more than two squares. and i am known for having a small, conclave if you will, ass.
moving on.
so my commute has dropped from 85 minutes to 16 minutes. and that rocks my socks. because now i can sleep in. or i can drink chocolate milk in the morning. or do laundry. or watch tv. or sleep in. and with the bee already being there, there's no need for me to be awake at the crack of dawn to make sure he's awake. and that's nice. but i no longer get to honk at nigel and i worry that she's oversleeping and that the rugrats are late for school.
my momma is having surgery next month. not anything easy, not anything outpatient - she's having big scary surgery. and i for one am freaked the fuck out and i know she is too. it's called anterior cervical fusion. they're fusing cadaver bones to degenerating discs in her neck, and the funny part is, she's not even having specific neck pain. but it's part of a neurosurgeon's master plan to save her back and keep her mobile, because the weakness in her legs, arms and bladder is taking over her life. i can't imagine how that feels, especially for such a strong and independent person like my mom. i know how it feels to watch her in such pain and not be able to help, and that's awful. i felt an incredible amount of guilt in moving out and away with her in this condition because i felt like i may have been able to do something while living at home, but now i'm too far away to be of any real help to her. the surgery itself is scary: they go in through the front of the neck, pushing aside semi-important things like the voicebox and arteries and things like that, to get to her spine and vertabrae. her voice may be different when it's all said and done. she'll have a scar. but with any luck, and she's saying it will take some bit of luck, she'll be strong enough to walk. and that's all i want for her. i just want my mom back.
so have i told you i *still* don't have my uugof back yet? nope. he's still a one-eyed raznous, the poor guy. he's missing a headlight, he looks like a pirate. if cars could talk like transformers could talk, mine would say, "yarrgh...." like a pirate. only he'd say it with a german accent because uugof's mother was a volkswagon. as long as he doesn't have a headlight i want him to wear an eye patch so i can be the captain of that ship...
i managed to lose my silverware about a year ago and just recently discovered it. yeah, that sucks my (hypothethical) nut. very not cool, this whole eating with your hands thing. makes cereal a real bitch. apparently when i was moving out of the dutch village of all that is holy, overpriced and stuck in the back of the closet, i left a box in my former abode. (not adobe.) this box was then confiscated by my ex-landlords in a power struggle when my rubber rent check bounced out of their hot little hands and even though i made things right, they still claim they tossed it. bastardos! they ended up tossing my silverware and my saucepans and some good serving bowls. (yesh, i know. i'm a shitty packer. what of it, homeslice?) so the bee and i are eating off of the really nice hyvee plastic stuff for the time being. whatev. not worth wadding my panties over now.
not that i ate cereal last night. last night, the bee and i just sort of foraged. i foraged for a bottle of wine, he foraged for a bag of chips. we both fell asleep happy, i just woke up with a headache. i just get in a mood sometimes for a good bottle of merlot. so i go get one and then i want to drink the whole thing. it doesn't happen often, thank god, because i don't think my head could take it. and when i do it, i have weird ass dreams. bizarre, strange, weird ass things. like that my new landlord got mad that i wanted my screen door fixed so they took away my cell phone and gave me this shitty ass walkman-sized thing to use instead. wtf? i have no idea. anyway. i drank my dinner last night. and it was good.
i'm at work late again tonight. ugh. i'm tired of being here late. i hope the new person works out and isn't creepy and weird like the last new person. here in this department we're getting a reputation for getting people fired. okay, i'm getting a reputation for getting people fired. but i don't care. do your job and we won't have issues. well, do your job and don't comment on my personal life and then we won't have issues. copy that, keester? i thought so...
again, it's taken me all stinkin' day to write this. that sucks. i miss my puter. i have to go to the bathroom. my stomach is upset all the soda i've had to drink today. i'm suffering from adult acne. my friends are calling me a bed wetter because i'm not sure if i want to go out with them this weekend. huh, i guess i'm a little whiny.
and with that, i'm going to sign off and go pretend to find things to do. i have a lot of paper on my desk and that makes me appear to be busy even if i'm not. plus i bet i can spend four minutes in the bathroom washing my hands and then i'm four minutes closer to going home. woot!
peas out.
superireallyhavetopeejanel :)
13 November 2007
admit it - you missed me
sorry boys and girls. i've been absent from the blogging world for quite a while. things have been mad crazy busy. plus, my computer like imploded on itself and that makes blogging a little bit difficult. i mean, i could blog 160 characters at a time via text message from my cell phone but we all know that since i tend to text and drive, texting and blogging and driving isn't going to end well for anyone. especially when you add in the fact that i'm still driving someone else's car because mine *still* isn't fixed - well, obviously, blogging took a seat on the back burner for a while.
i don't know when my computer will be fixed. apparently all that time without antivirus software sort of bit me in the ass. i know, me with no antivirus software - i can't believe it either. but it was either that or give up some random weekend of drinking that probably ended poorly sometime between last july and last tuesday and when have i ever passed up the chance for a little extra drama? exactly. so my computer guru pal is reformatting my hard drive, erasing two years of pictures, music and crap. at least i can say it wasn't porn. at least i hope it wasn't the porn.
(that was a joke, mom. i don't look at porn on my own computer. i do that at work. no, now i'm really kidding. i can't even check my myspace at work, are you kidding?)
so. what's new with you? not much? yeah? huh. yeah, well, it's been kind of crazy around here. you know, hitting deer, wrecking cars, moving, losing my silverware, rocking out at my job, getting somewhere with the bee - it's been a productive couple of weeks.
my new apartment, oops, i mean our new apartment is adorable. small, yes. maybe is cozy is a better word, because it is definitely cozy. but i like it. and i think the bee likes it. initially there was some discussion/argument as to whether or not it was *my* apartment or *our* apartment, considering it's just my name on the lease and i was the only one that saw it before moving in. but i'm not known for my patience and he wasn't moving at a speed that i was comfortable with (aka ludicrous speed) so i took matters into my own hands. and so here we are. worst case scenario, he hates it, i live there for six months and then we find a place we both like. but it's not going to be on the south side where i'm surrounded by non-english speaking trailer trash.
whoa. hold up. i'm not saying that all south siders don't speak english. i'm not saying that all south siders are trailer trash. nor am i saying that all non-english speakers are trailer trash. what i am saying is that there is a large population of all three on the south side of the metro (ha.) and i refuse to live among them. that's just me being a snob.
anyway. can i finish?
yeah. so. i'm finished. the apartment is adorable. everything is unpacked. and all is good in the little domestic world that we've created. cute, isn't it? :D
but i have to tell you, i felt weird leaving home. again. it's not as bad as it was the first time around. i think when i left home the first time around i cried every night for about a month. not that i've spent any time crying. but it just feels weird. because i thought for sure that moving home was going to be a huge mistake. and actually, it turned out to be kind of nice. it wasn't the all out war that i thought it may be with my mom, because, and let's face it, living together hasn't always been our strong suit. but we persevered and now it's just kind of weird not having her around.
but anyway. more to come tomorrow. i'm at work and it's taken me ALL FREAKING DAY to get this far. seriously. this is what i'm going to have to do until i get my 'puter back - rob my employer of janel time so that i can update you with my silly little insignificant life. do you see what you people are doing to me? i'm a rule breaker. breakin' the law, breakin' the law...
anyway. toodles and noodles. i'm off here in 13 minutes.
love,
the superfreakinjustmovedAGAINandnowi'mdoneforatleastsixmonthsjanel :)
i don't know when my computer will be fixed. apparently all that time without antivirus software sort of bit me in the ass. i know, me with no antivirus software - i can't believe it either. but it was either that or give up some random weekend of drinking that probably ended poorly sometime between last july and last tuesday and when have i ever passed up the chance for a little extra drama? exactly. so my computer guru pal is reformatting my hard drive, erasing two years of pictures, music and crap. at least i can say it wasn't porn. at least i hope it wasn't the porn.
(that was a joke, mom. i don't look at porn on my own computer. i do that at work. no, now i'm really kidding. i can't even check my myspace at work, are you kidding?)
so. what's new with you? not much? yeah? huh. yeah, well, it's been kind of crazy around here. you know, hitting deer, wrecking cars, moving, losing my silverware, rocking out at my job, getting somewhere with the bee - it's been a productive couple of weeks.
my new apartment, oops, i mean our new apartment is adorable. small, yes. maybe is cozy is a better word, because it is definitely cozy. but i like it. and i think the bee likes it. initially there was some discussion/argument as to whether or not it was *my* apartment or *our* apartment, considering it's just my name on the lease and i was the only one that saw it before moving in. but i'm not known for my patience and he wasn't moving at a speed that i was comfortable with (aka ludicrous speed) so i took matters into my own hands. and so here we are. worst case scenario, he hates it, i live there for six months and then we find a place we both like. but it's not going to be on the south side where i'm surrounded by non-english speaking trailer trash.
whoa. hold up. i'm not saying that all south siders don't speak english. i'm not saying that all south siders are trailer trash. nor am i saying that all non-english speakers are trailer trash. what i am saying is that there is a large population of all three on the south side of the metro (ha.) and i refuse to live among them. that's just me being a snob.
anyway. can i finish?
yeah. so. i'm finished. the apartment is adorable. everything is unpacked. and all is good in the little domestic world that we've created. cute, isn't it? :D
but i have to tell you, i felt weird leaving home. again. it's not as bad as it was the first time around. i think when i left home the first time around i cried every night for about a month. not that i've spent any time crying. but it just feels weird. because i thought for sure that moving home was going to be a huge mistake. and actually, it turned out to be kind of nice. it wasn't the all out war that i thought it may be with my mom, because, and let's face it, living together hasn't always been our strong suit. but we persevered and now it's just kind of weird not having her around.
but anyway. more to come tomorrow. i'm at work and it's taken me ALL FREAKING DAY to get this far. seriously. this is what i'm going to have to do until i get my 'puter back - rob my employer of janel time so that i can update you with my silly little insignificant life. do you see what you people are doing to me? i'm a rule breaker. breakin' the law, breakin' the law...
anyway. toodles and noodles. i'm off here in 13 minutes.
love,
the superfreakinjustmovedAGAINandnowi'mdoneforatleastsixmonthsjanel :)
26 October 2007
the sheer intelligence is stunning.
so i'm sitting across the desk, watching my brother go over his retirement plan. well, it's the iowa lottery's version of a retirement plan - it's a crossword puzzle scratch ticket. and we're talking, generic stuff. and i'm watching him scratch off letters. and one of the words doesn't look like a word.
"what's copire?" i say.
"i think that's co-pier," he replies.
quiet. he continues to scratch off letters.
"oh wait," he says. "that says copier."
oh yes. we are THAT smart.
23 October 2007
i've turned off the alarm but the clock still ticks...
every time i think maybe (someday) kids wouldn't be so bad, i get a glaring sign that i am sorely mistaken. every single time. and that's okay. i'm not taking it personally anymore. it's just not meant to be.
last night i had a dream (me and the good dr. king, right? look where it got him...) that i was in charge of caring for a classroom of kids, during snack time. and i had this tray of gigantic cookies, iced with beautiful red and blue frosting - they looked wonderful. and there were enough cookies for all these kids and for me and i was so excited. (what can i say, i went to bed hungry.) but as i was getting all these kids ready for snacktime, and myself too, i noticed all these things around me that i enjoyed: a stack of my favorite t-shirts and a bottle of grey goose on the counter. and i suddenly got really sad, because i realized if i sat down to snack time with the kids, i wasn't going to fit into my favorite t-shirts any more and i wasn't going to have any place to wear them and i wasn't going to have any more grey goose-induced fun.
i could picture my life, covered in red and blue icing, full of kids, and it wasn't good.
so i didn't have any cookies. and i didn't participate in snacktime. i put on my coat and i left (which coincidentally led into another dream, this one having to do with space travel and the whole space-time continuum, which i believe has nothing to do with my whole child-bearing issue, but maybe, whatever, i don't know.)
so yeah. no kids for the superjanel. not anytime soon, anyway.
last night i had a dream (me and the good dr. king, right? look where it got him...) that i was in charge of caring for a classroom of kids, during snack time. and i had this tray of gigantic cookies, iced with beautiful red and blue frosting - they looked wonderful. and there were enough cookies for all these kids and for me and i was so excited. (what can i say, i went to bed hungry.) but as i was getting all these kids ready for snacktime, and myself too, i noticed all these things around me that i enjoyed: a stack of my favorite t-shirts and a bottle of grey goose on the counter. and i suddenly got really sad, because i realized if i sat down to snack time with the kids, i wasn't going to fit into my favorite t-shirts any more and i wasn't going to have any place to wear them and i wasn't going to have any more grey goose-induced fun.
i could picture my life, covered in red and blue icing, full of kids, and it wasn't good.
so i didn't have any cookies. and i didn't participate in snacktime. i put on my coat and i left (which coincidentally led into another dream, this one having to do with space travel and the whole space-time continuum, which i believe has nothing to do with my whole child-bearing issue, but maybe, whatever, i don't know.)
so yeah. no kids for the superjanel. not anytime soon, anyway.
21 October 2007
she believes in shooting stars
i was up early this morning - early that technically it's morning but it's darker than it's been all night. the bee is working overtime and i don't like to stay at his house when he's not there. so i went home. but the stars were incredibly bright, it was amazing. and i stepped off his porch and right in my line of sight was the little dipper, smack in the center of the southern sky. i usually have a hard time finding the small spoon but like i said, it was so bright, it was just amazing. and on my way home i saw not one, but two shooting stars. i love that, it's like it's a special event that occurs only for me. and then i wonder if anyone else was quick enough to see it, although at nearly 0500 you have to bet that most everyone else is sleeping. so i made my wishes and went home and went back to bed. but i didn't sleep nearly as well as i had before i left the bee's house. :(
so i've been asked: what the fuck is a swamp deer? do let me tell you. first off, you have to know that the great (mis)state of iowa really has two populations: one, obviously is human. this is the population that is polled for census records every ten years, pays property taxes and speeding ticket fines (sometimes) and takes the trash cans to the curbs on tuesday mornings. the second population is that of white-tailed deer and these probably out number the first population, both in number, size, and in many southern counties, sheer intelligence levels. if you're not familiar with the white-tailed deer, they are known for their big ass antlers, cute little white tails, and their japanese kamikaze attitudes towards automobiles. these are not bambis: they are fur-covered motherfuckers and they eat cars like yours and mine for breakfast, biz-natches.
oh yes.
but i digress. swamp deer are cousins of the white tailed deer. they live in lucas county, near pin oak marsh, which as i know it was just overflow from the chariton river that never went away from the big ass floods in 1993 and 1997. i could be wrong but i don't really care if i am; don't bother to correct me, it's my fucking story. ANYWAY.
swamp deer. they're directly related to elk, moose, buffalo and the now extinct mastadon and brontosaurus. they are that fucking big. and they like to hide in the ditches along the highway at mad crazy hours of the morning when it's still dark and you're half asleep, starting your commute to work, and then they like to fucking RAM the side of your car, just for fun, just to make sure you're awake. "oh, good morning, didn't see you there..."
hitting a swamp deer is similar to running your car into a giant boulder - the sound is one and the same. they are huge creatures, covered in swamp moss, making them impossible to see in the dark or in the daylight and they come at your vehicle at 4,812 miles per hour with no intention of stopping, just tearing shit up and making you wish you'd worn your brown pants to work. and after they have royally destroyed your shit and fucked up your day, they scamper off, back to their herd of swamp deer friends and lie in waiting for their next victim.
they are assholes. every last one of them. and so when i saw my poor uugof's eyeball lying on the side of the highway, i stopped to look. just broken glass and plastic - no hair, no blood, no dead fucking swamp deer. which just pisses me off. because for all the trouble this is causing for me, i want a dead fucking deer.
actually, it's causing very little trouble for me at all. life is continuing on as normal, except that my poor uugof is *again* sitting at the body shop and the estimate is over 5,000$ in repairs. holy shiznit. i am certainly getting my money's worth out of my insurance company this year. but if there is a brightside, i do get a new bumper! woot!
okay. so the yankees are out of the playoffs (again). and joe torre is NOT coming back next year (WTF?!!). i blame all of this on the cleveland indians. tonight is game seven of the alcs and if dice-k does not come through with a win, i am going to take matters into my own hands. i don't really know what that means. it prolly means i'm going to throw a little temper tantrum like i did after the yankees lost, that was so fucking adorable of me. :P
okay. i'm hungry. and bored. i'm going to go watch transformers again.
so i've been asked: what the fuck is a swamp deer? do let me tell you. first off, you have to know that the great (mis)state of iowa really has two populations: one, obviously is human. this is the population that is polled for census records every ten years, pays property taxes and speeding ticket fines (sometimes) and takes the trash cans to the curbs on tuesday mornings. the second population is that of white-tailed deer and these probably out number the first population, both in number, size, and in many southern counties, sheer intelligence levels. if you're not familiar with the white-tailed deer, they are known for their big ass antlers, cute little white tails, and their japanese kamikaze attitudes towards automobiles. these are not bambis: they are fur-covered motherfuckers and they eat cars like yours and mine for breakfast, biz-natches.
oh yes.
but i digress. swamp deer are cousins of the white tailed deer. they live in lucas county, near pin oak marsh, which as i know it was just overflow from the chariton river that never went away from the big ass floods in 1993 and 1997. i could be wrong but i don't really care if i am; don't bother to correct me, it's my fucking story. ANYWAY.
swamp deer. they're directly related to elk, moose, buffalo and the now extinct mastadon and brontosaurus. they are that fucking big. and they like to hide in the ditches along the highway at mad crazy hours of the morning when it's still dark and you're half asleep, starting your commute to work, and then they like to fucking RAM the side of your car, just for fun, just to make sure you're awake. "oh, good morning, didn't see you there..."
hitting a swamp deer is similar to running your car into a giant boulder - the sound is one and the same. they are huge creatures, covered in swamp moss, making them impossible to see in the dark or in the daylight and they come at your vehicle at 4,812 miles per hour with no intention of stopping, just tearing shit up and making you wish you'd worn your brown pants to work. and after they have royally destroyed your shit and fucked up your day, they scamper off, back to their herd of swamp deer friends and lie in waiting for their next victim.
they are assholes. every last one of them. and so when i saw my poor uugof's eyeball lying on the side of the highway, i stopped to look. just broken glass and plastic - no hair, no blood, no dead fucking swamp deer. which just pisses me off. because for all the trouble this is causing for me, i want a dead fucking deer.
actually, it's causing very little trouble for me at all. life is continuing on as normal, except that my poor uugof is *again* sitting at the body shop and the estimate is over 5,000$ in repairs. holy shiznit. i am certainly getting my money's worth out of my insurance company this year. but if there is a brightside, i do get a new bumper! woot!
okay. so the yankees are out of the playoffs (again). and joe torre is NOT coming back next year (WTF?!!). i blame all of this on the cleveland indians. tonight is game seven of the alcs and if dice-k does not come through with a win, i am going to take matters into my own hands. i don't really know what that means. it prolly means i'm going to throw a little temper tantrum like i did after the yankees lost, that was so fucking adorable of me. :P
okay. i'm hungry. and bored. i'm going to go watch transformers again.
19 October 2007
curse of the swamp deer
my poor uugof. he's fucking cursed, i swear. and i'll bet the fucking deer isn't even dead. not even injured. for all this shit, i want a dead fucking deer.
gah...
16 October 2007
damn, it feels good to be a gangsta
in spite of the fact that the bee is nearly suicidal over the fact that they (they being "the man") can take his hunting licenses this fall in conjunction with his DUI, i'm having a splendid week. i got the apartment (it has a washer and dryer AND a fireplace AND a skylight in the kitchen!) and i'm moving 10nov. woot! i've figured out a way to dig myself out of the financial black hole i've managed to put myself into, and it doesn't involve selling any body parts on the black market. woot! and i think i'm getting the asian hag fired. woot woot!
work is going well. tomorrow we get out blackberries. i always wanted a blackberry. (note to self: do not take to bar.) and now i'll have one. i rule.
i'm looking forward to moving. this apartment is adorable. i don't know where i'll put my monster of an entertainment center. part of me wants to let my brother and dad just take it out in a field and kick the holy shit out of it, office space-style. (damn it feels good to be a gangsta.) my big kitteh is going to miss my mom, though. they're all, like, besties and stuff. it's kind of cute. i think he loves her because she's stable and i'm not. that's okay. i'm not offended. i have mischa - we're both retarded and we get along just fine.
the bee may end up living with me; i'm not sure. it was my idea, if you can fathom such a thing. i just like it when he's around. i don't know; don't ask me to explain.
i'm going to bed now. i'm tired. and i'm low on gas and you need a jacket.
work is going well. tomorrow we get out blackberries. i always wanted a blackberry. (note to self: do not take to bar.) and now i'll have one. i rule.
i'm looking forward to moving. this apartment is adorable. i don't know where i'll put my monster of an entertainment center. part of me wants to let my brother and dad just take it out in a field and kick the holy shit out of it, office space-style. (damn it feels good to be a gangsta.) my big kitteh is going to miss my mom, though. they're all, like, besties and stuff. it's kind of cute. i think he loves her because she's stable and i'm not. that's okay. i'm not offended. i have mischa - we're both retarded and we get along just fine.
the bee may end up living with me; i'm not sure. it was my idea, if you can fathom such a thing. i just like it when he's around. i don't know; don't ask me to explain.
i'm going to bed now. i'm tired. and i'm low on gas and you need a jacket.
i imagine it makes a nice thud.
every time i see an orange construction cone i have to fight back a serious urge to run it over with my car.
14 October 2007
i don't mean to ignore you
it seems a weekly update is the best i can do lately. the week is so busy, all i do is drive and work and fight with the bee and cry over the yankees - i don't have time to get to my blog. besides that, this was the week that i chose to take my three day sabbatical from the web as part of my 101/1001. that obviously doesn't include web time at work, as that would probly get me fired. so i sort of altered it to include fun things like ebay, gmail, myspace and my blog. also things like the news, the weather channel and woot. i thought i was going to die until friday night, it was friggin' awful.
anyway. so here's the janel's week in review...
sunday night: yankees win. i again fall in love with johnny damon as he hits a home run, changing the momentum of the game with the indians. such a beautiful man. *sigh* the bee stays the night. it's a good night.
monday night: yankees lose but i do get to see the farns pitch and even a losing game is even a game worth watching. oh, the farns. i adore kyle farnsworth, like more than cheesecake and most of my shoes and a lot of things. he's a wonderful thing. but the yankees lose and i want to cry. the bee stays the night. it's a semi good night. would have been better if the yankees didn't suck so much.
tuesday: i'm off at noon on tuesday and i spend most of my afternoon looking at an apartment and falling in love with it. then i write my wannabe landlord a bad check so she'll hold it. i want it so bad it makes my stomach hurt. it's in johnston, which is just a 15- minute drive from work in spankeny. i take home the application and decide to think it over. talk it over with my moms and decide if its meant to be, it shall be.
wednesday: sleep in. work until seven. stop at the bee's house for a few minutes after work. go home and go to bed.
thursday: happy birthday little brother. :) take apartment application to wannabe landlord. give her another bad check in the hopes that she's not banking them anytime soon. dinner with the bee ends poorly, which is sad because we were at buzzard billy's and under the umpteen coats of lacquer on the table there are trading cards from the first season of SNL. he sits with his elbow on a trading card of john belushi in his bee suit and the irony about kills me. we end up having another public, but quiet melee, ending with a mutual(?) break up on the court ave bridge, only to make up several hours later on the phone. this shit is giving me an ulcer.
friday: dinner with the fam. the bee does not attend, out of spite? i'm not sure. i have to work in the morning, so i head home. no bee.
saturday: work. home. laundry. veg. bee calls, he's working late and then he's got to go to a bday party. do i want to go? not really, and i say so. he's pissy, i'm pissy, we're back in bickering mode. blah, blah, blah. i hang up. he calls about 12 hours later. he's about half drunk and apologetic. again, same ol' weekend routine. he wants to come down. i tell him he's been drinking, it's a bad idea. no worries, he says. he's fine. 15 minutes later, he calls, he's just a few minutes away. we're talking. he says, come downstairs, there's a car behind me, i think it's a cop.
before i can get downstairs, there are cherries illuminating every window on the north side of the house. it was so not cool - i watched my boyfriend get arrested in my own fucking driveway for DUI. they hauled him off, cuffs and all, and then released him this morning. motherfuckers. i hate them all.
i felt so bad, i couldn't do anything. it wasn't my fault. i didn't ask him to come down and i even said if you've been drinking, don't do it, but i still felt bad. so now there's all this to deal with. i told him i'd help how ever i could.
my mom's so cool though; i can wake her up in the middle of the night to tell her that the bee got arrested in the driveway and she wakes right up to commiserate with me. she rocks. she made me feel better, as much as she could. i didn't sleep much last night, i couldn't, knowing he was there. and the wayne county jail isn't like a fucking prison, it's not like the polk county drunk tank, it could have been much worse. he was safe, he wasn't injured, just a little humbled. but i realized that despite all the issues we have and all the reasons i shouldn't, i do in fact care for this guy.
so there you have it. one crappy week leads into one crappy weekend and i'm left wondering what the fuck can happen next. i'm going to head up and go see him in a few minutes. his family is going to tear him apart when he gets home; i'm going to try and diffuse a potentially nasty situation.
wish me luck.
anyway. so here's the janel's week in review...
sunday night: yankees win. i again fall in love with johnny damon as he hits a home run, changing the momentum of the game with the indians. such a beautiful man. *sigh* the bee stays the night. it's a good night.
monday night: yankees lose but i do get to see the farns pitch and even a losing game is even a game worth watching. oh, the farns. i adore kyle farnsworth, like more than cheesecake and most of my shoes and a lot of things. he's a wonderful thing. but the yankees lose and i want to cry. the bee stays the night. it's a semi good night. would have been better if the yankees didn't suck so much.
tuesday: i'm off at noon on tuesday and i spend most of my afternoon looking at an apartment and falling in love with it. then i write my wannabe landlord a bad check so she'll hold it. i want it so bad it makes my stomach hurt. it's in johnston, which is just a 15- minute drive from work in spankeny. i take home the application and decide to think it over. talk it over with my moms and decide if its meant to be, it shall be.
wednesday: sleep in. work until seven. stop at the bee's house for a few minutes after work. go home and go to bed.
thursday: happy birthday little brother. :) take apartment application to wannabe landlord. give her another bad check in the hopes that she's not banking them anytime soon. dinner with the bee ends poorly, which is sad because we were at buzzard billy's and under the umpteen coats of lacquer on the table there are trading cards from the first season of SNL. he sits with his elbow on a trading card of john belushi in his bee suit and the irony about kills me. we end up having another public, but quiet melee, ending with a mutual(?) break up on the court ave bridge, only to make up several hours later on the phone. this shit is giving me an ulcer.
friday: dinner with the fam. the bee does not attend, out of spite? i'm not sure. i have to work in the morning, so i head home. no bee.
saturday: work. home. laundry. veg. bee calls, he's working late and then he's got to go to a bday party. do i want to go? not really, and i say so. he's pissy, i'm pissy, we're back in bickering mode. blah, blah, blah. i hang up. he calls about 12 hours later. he's about half drunk and apologetic. again, same ol' weekend routine. he wants to come down. i tell him he's been drinking, it's a bad idea. no worries, he says. he's fine. 15 minutes later, he calls, he's just a few minutes away. we're talking. he says, come downstairs, there's a car behind me, i think it's a cop.
before i can get downstairs, there are cherries illuminating every window on the north side of the house. it was so not cool - i watched my boyfriend get arrested in my own fucking driveway for DUI. they hauled him off, cuffs and all, and then released him this morning. motherfuckers. i hate them all.
i felt so bad, i couldn't do anything. it wasn't my fault. i didn't ask him to come down and i even said if you've been drinking, don't do it, but i still felt bad. so now there's all this to deal with. i told him i'd help how ever i could.
my mom's so cool though; i can wake her up in the middle of the night to tell her that the bee got arrested in the driveway and she wakes right up to commiserate with me. she rocks. she made me feel better, as much as she could. i didn't sleep much last night, i couldn't, knowing he was there. and the wayne county jail isn't like a fucking prison, it's not like the polk county drunk tank, it could have been much worse. he was safe, he wasn't injured, just a little humbled. but i realized that despite all the issues we have and all the reasons i shouldn't, i do in fact care for this guy.
so there you have it. one crappy week leads into one crappy weekend and i'm left wondering what the fuck can happen next. i'm going to head up and go see him in a few minutes. his family is going to tear him apart when he gets home; i'm going to try and diffuse a potentially nasty situation.
wish me luck.
07 October 2007
dualing banjos, dualing personalities
have i ever told you how tired i get of drama? i swear, i instigate very little of it. maybe some of it. maybe it's the people i choose to hang out with. i don't know. but it's giving me a fucking ulcer and it's got to stop.
king bee and i had plans last night, as concrete as they ever are, which is not saying much because i'm honestly not one for making plans. nigel got sick, snackmaster bob got pissy and they went home. i ended up hanging out with some other pals and my arrival at our meeting point was late, i'll admit - but when am i ever NOT late? but the scene was horrific inside and it only got worse outside. i was so embarrassed by the way he acted and by the things he said, i just left. i was going to go home. i wasn't going to say anything more, i wasn't going to say anything at all because i knew if i started i wasn't going to be able to stop. but he called and told me to fuck off, he's done with me and my bullshit. and then he hung up.
i didn't call him back.
instead i called mr. mittens. and drove south of town to a place i've been avoiding since i've been in this hellhole of a town. i knew it was a bad decision; i knew the whole thing was wrong. it was so wrong i sat outside in my car and discussed with myself the poor decision i was making. but i still went inside. and mr. mittens was there. and so were some others that i haven't seen in years.
it's strange how time doesn't really age some people - it's like they'll look the same until the end of time. maybe that's my memory playing with me, i'm not sure. but they're still the same people, living the same lives with the same goals they had 10 years ago. and perhaps its my own dissatisfaction with my own life, but i couldn't help but think that some of it was just sad. their own personal expectations aside, these people were and are capable of much more. but it's like they get sucked into this trap, this area, and they're here. and i'm spouting off here, because i can't say for sure that this wasn't their life goal, their life expectation. but it's just shocking to find the personality and intelligence (hard to discern at 0130 on a saturday night, i know, but i know these people) in this location, living these lives. but i shouldn't judge, should i?
mr. mittens tried to talk to me. he wanted to talk to me but i really wanted nothing of it. i just wanted to be away from the constant argument that becomes my relationship with the bee on most days that end in "y". and i said that i just don't want anything at the moment. i want my space and i need some time. because i really don't know what i'm doing. and as far as mr. mittens, that's all i know. i have no confirmation on his home life. i don't even want to talk about it. i don't want to know.
king bee started calling in the middle of the night last night. i told him where i was, where i'd been. i didn't have to tell him who i was with. his apologies were trite and while i think he's sorry for what he said and how he treated me, i don't think he understands why i'm upset. we talked several times in the middle of the night. he wanted me to come to his family dinner this afternoon; i had mixed emotions about it but finally declined the invitation because it dawned on me where the drama stems from: there are two sides to the bee. i get one side when it's just the two of us, alone, chilling, doing our thing. i get another side when he's touched any sort of alcohol or he's in public. and that's not right.
i am who i am, what i am, everyday. there's little flux in my personality from day to day, albeit it's fair to say that random is a accurate adjective. i'm the same person at home that i am when i'm out. my friends don't have a lot of impact on my personality - in fact, i make it a point to try not to let my friends opinions influence me too greatly. i don't want to be that kind of person - i like who i am and what i do and i'm nowhere near perfect. i'll own that statement.
but i want to be with someone who is the same way - i don't want to have to wonder who i'm going to see or talk to or be with and then adjust my actions accordingly. it's not fair to me. it's really not even fair to him, if you think about it.
but i don't know that i can make him understand that. i don't know if it's worth the time to continue trying. i can't wrap my mind around it at the moment; it's making my head hurt. do you know, is the application process for the nunnery complicated? can i just show up and get my habit? send me your address, i'll send you some pottery.
signing off.
love and kisses,
superjanel
king bee and i had plans last night, as concrete as they ever are, which is not saying much because i'm honestly not one for making plans. nigel got sick, snackmaster bob got pissy and they went home. i ended up hanging out with some other pals and my arrival at our meeting point was late, i'll admit - but when am i ever NOT late? but the scene was horrific inside and it only got worse outside. i was so embarrassed by the way he acted and by the things he said, i just left. i was going to go home. i wasn't going to say anything more, i wasn't going to say anything at all because i knew if i started i wasn't going to be able to stop. but he called and told me to fuck off, he's done with me and my bullshit. and then he hung up.
i didn't call him back.
instead i called mr. mittens. and drove south of town to a place i've been avoiding since i've been in this hellhole of a town. i knew it was a bad decision; i knew the whole thing was wrong. it was so wrong i sat outside in my car and discussed with myself the poor decision i was making. but i still went inside. and mr. mittens was there. and so were some others that i haven't seen in years.
it's strange how time doesn't really age some people - it's like they'll look the same until the end of time. maybe that's my memory playing with me, i'm not sure. but they're still the same people, living the same lives with the same goals they had 10 years ago. and perhaps its my own dissatisfaction with my own life, but i couldn't help but think that some of it was just sad. their own personal expectations aside, these people were and are capable of much more. but it's like they get sucked into this trap, this area, and they're here. and i'm spouting off here, because i can't say for sure that this wasn't their life goal, their life expectation. but it's just shocking to find the personality and intelligence (hard to discern at 0130 on a saturday night, i know, but i know these people) in this location, living these lives. but i shouldn't judge, should i?
mr. mittens tried to talk to me. he wanted to talk to me but i really wanted nothing of it. i just wanted to be away from the constant argument that becomes my relationship with the bee on most days that end in "y". and i said that i just don't want anything at the moment. i want my space and i need some time. because i really don't know what i'm doing. and as far as mr. mittens, that's all i know. i have no confirmation on his home life. i don't even want to talk about it. i don't want to know.
king bee started calling in the middle of the night last night. i told him where i was, where i'd been. i didn't have to tell him who i was with. his apologies were trite and while i think he's sorry for what he said and how he treated me, i don't think he understands why i'm upset. we talked several times in the middle of the night. he wanted me to come to his family dinner this afternoon; i had mixed emotions about it but finally declined the invitation because it dawned on me where the drama stems from: there are two sides to the bee. i get one side when it's just the two of us, alone, chilling, doing our thing. i get another side when he's touched any sort of alcohol or he's in public. and that's not right.
i am who i am, what i am, everyday. there's little flux in my personality from day to day, albeit it's fair to say that random is a accurate adjective. i'm the same person at home that i am when i'm out. my friends don't have a lot of impact on my personality - in fact, i make it a point to try not to let my friends opinions influence me too greatly. i don't want to be that kind of person - i like who i am and what i do and i'm nowhere near perfect. i'll own that statement.
but i want to be with someone who is the same way - i don't want to have to wonder who i'm going to see or talk to or be with and then adjust my actions accordingly. it's not fair to me. it's really not even fair to him, if you think about it.
but i don't know that i can make him understand that. i don't know if it's worth the time to continue trying. i can't wrap my mind around it at the moment; it's making my head hurt. do you know, is the application process for the nunnery complicated? can i just show up and get my habit? send me your address, i'll send you some pottery.
signing off.
love and kisses,
superjanel
did you know?
- treatment effects are flammable.
- cute assholes in high school only get cuter and slimier with age.
- telling a girlfriend to "get bent" is not a good way to get laid.
- being cute is a good way to get free drinks.
- just because you had ear surgery doesn't mean you can hear any better, apparently.
- some people will never change.
- some places will never change.
- but the faces change.
- i still have no idea what i'm doing.
- and blogging and drinking still equals a big no-no.
- i really don't want to go to his family dinner tomorrow.
- in fact, i'm not sure that after being told to "get bent" that i want much to do with him.
- at the moment, i'm kind of nauseous.
- my phone dials people at random. like libbeth. i swear, i'm not prank calling you.
- my god, those high school assholes just get cuter with age. OMG.
- i need to go to bed and sleep this off.
- i love free drinks.
- have i ever told you that.
- i have to get out of this town. it's killing me. and my judgment.
- DUDE.
- i got kick ass tickets to see dane cook in november. and that is so fucking awesome i don't know what to do about it.
- and that one sentence just totally fucked my momentum.
- jc.
- i wish i could just go out and get shitty drunk and not have to worry about HIM for once.
- sometimes i wish there weren't a him at all.
- and sometimes i love him.
- yeah, i meant that.
- is meant really a word?
- it's not asking me to spell check that.
- aren't bullet points awesome?
- i should go to bed.
- i'm telling you, he's fucking HOT now.
- jc.
- okay.
- bed.
- no more blogging.
- i do heart bullet points.
- so i went to the bar tonight with like 66$.
- and i came home with 59$. and that's awesome.
- if it's free, it's for me.
- i had crab for dinner.
- i stabbed myself in the thumb with the crab thingy.
- i'm completely rambling now.
- DUDE. HE WAS HOT.
- okay.
- gnite.
- love,
- the
- super
- janel
- i
- love
- bullet
- points
- i'm done now. i swear.
- one more. it's not going to kill you.
- now i'm really done.
- vodka cranberry. YUM.
- gnite. :)
04 October 2007
30 September 2007
hers my nome dr. now go practice your spelling.
ugh. sunday night again? where did my weekend go? really, i should be going to bed. i have to be up at the ASS CRACK of dawn tomorrow. no really. the ASS CRACK. i have like three alarms and a wake up call request in just to make sure that my lazy ass gets out of bed in the morning. i don't know what the issue is - i just can't seem to do it. and then i stand in the shower for like 45 minutes - i don't know why. i don't know if i'm sleeping or what, but when i wake up, the whole upper half of the house is foggy and the bar of soap is gone.
so things seem to be going well - work is great, family is great, money is eh, friends are great and then the bf just like fucking freaks out on a weekly fucking basis and i have no idea what to do about it. in all my life, i've never seen anyone act the way he acts. you know how there are times when you want your significant other to show some emotion, to not act like a zombie, to show that they care and that you mean something? ladies, really, quit your complaining. because when they do show emotion, act like (immature) people, show that they care and that you mean something to them, you'll honestly be wishing that he'd just go back to watching football, putting dirty clothes in the hamper and holding the remote control like he fucking owns it.
really. i honestly think that i'd rather do his laundry than resort to the junior high fucking bullshit that came about on friday evening. ugh. rather than relive all the gory details, let me just tell you this: jealousy is all the fun you *think* someone has had (isn't that a great quote?). he doesn't trust me, and maybe with some good reason but not the reasons he has in mind, he doesn't respect my decisions (at least not the ones made in his absence) and there was no one he wouldn't have taken it out on if i, and several others, hadn't stopped him. i've spent a good portion of my weekend apologizing to those people for his behavior; he doesn't remember much of it. but i don't get it. i've never known anyone to be so jealous and really over nothing - or at least what i see as very insignificant. he apologized. i told him i can't deal with that and i won't deal with that. we'll see. in the midst of all that, i hear from mr. mittens himself that he's leaving his wife. which is all i've ever wanted him to say for the last six months. except now i'm not with him; i'm with king bee. and doesn't that just figure?
so my mind is just a mess. the bee and i had a great week, it was awesome. i hung out with he and his family a couple of nights, he came down to see me a couple of nights - it really seemed like progress, like we were finally getting comfortable with one another. and then we have this massive ... setback? outburst? event? and here i am. i don't want to have to babysit my bf. but that's certainly what it felt like saturday morning at 0200. the rest of the weekend was great; but we hung out here, didn't go out hardly at all and avoided the entire friend scene. is that what its going to take?
but that's enough about that. let's talk about something else.
so i think i'm going through a johnny cash phase. all my clothes for work seem to be black. wtf? i'm feeling a little goth, like maybe i should paint my fingernails black and stop washing my hair. what do you think?
speaking of work, my boss wants to give the two of us that don't work on the weekends a blackberry to answer email leads. me and a blackberry on friday and saturday nights. i was telling nigel about this and didn't think much of it until she pointed out that i am one heck of a drunk texter. oh yeah... "yeah, show me your nipples and i'll sell you this car..."
so the other day i was at nigel's house, she was making me dinner. and i was talking to her 9-year-old daughter about these custom made dolls that you can buy that look just like you. they are so dead on, it's like freaky. and they're so expensive, they must be extracting dna from the paperwork you send in. but they won't make scars or cleft chins or anything like that. well i thought it said you couldn't have a doll with a cleft palette, which sort of makes sense, who wants an ugly fucking doll like that? but nigel's daughter didn't know what a cleft palette was, she'd never heard of a harelip - so i had to explain it. by drawing a diagram. where's libbeth when you need her?
i'm getting sick. another bladder infection. this pisses me off.
oh. so i bought and downloaded the new kanye cd. it's the bestest ever. i legally downloaded it because my mom doesn't like people knocking on the door, ever, so i don't think lars from metallica would be a good houseguest.
"yarrrr.... i'm lars.... and you're fucking music pirate."
i need to go to bed. i'm tired.
so things seem to be going well - work is great, family is great, money is eh, friends are great and then the bf just like fucking freaks out on a weekly fucking basis and i have no idea what to do about it. in all my life, i've never seen anyone act the way he acts. you know how there are times when you want your significant other to show some emotion, to not act like a zombie, to show that they care and that you mean something? ladies, really, quit your complaining. because when they do show emotion, act like (immature) people, show that they care and that you mean something to them, you'll honestly be wishing that he'd just go back to watching football, putting dirty clothes in the hamper and holding the remote control like he fucking owns it.
really. i honestly think that i'd rather do his laundry than resort to the junior high fucking bullshit that came about on friday evening. ugh. rather than relive all the gory details, let me just tell you this: jealousy is all the fun you *think* someone has had (isn't that a great quote?). he doesn't trust me, and maybe with some good reason but not the reasons he has in mind, he doesn't respect my decisions (at least not the ones made in his absence) and there was no one he wouldn't have taken it out on if i, and several others, hadn't stopped him. i've spent a good portion of my weekend apologizing to those people for his behavior; he doesn't remember much of it. but i don't get it. i've never known anyone to be so jealous and really over nothing - or at least what i see as very insignificant. he apologized. i told him i can't deal with that and i won't deal with that. we'll see. in the midst of all that, i hear from mr. mittens himself that he's leaving his wife. which is all i've ever wanted him to say for the last six months. except now i'm not with him; i'm with king bee. and doesn't that just figure?
so my mind is just a mess. the bee and i had a great week, it was awesome. i hung out with he and his family a couple of nights, he came down to see me a couple of nights - it really seemed like progress, like we were finally getting comfortable with one another. and then we have this massive ... setback? outburst? event? and here i am. i don't want to have to babysit my bf. but that's certainly what it felt like saturday morning at 0200. the rest of the weekend was great; but we hung out here, didn't go out hardly at all and avoided the entire friend scene. is that what its going to take?
but that's enough about that. let's talk about something else.
so i think i'm going through a johnny cash phase. all my clothes for work seem to be black. wtf? i'm feeling a little goth, like maybe i should paint my fingernails black and stop washing my hair. what do you think?
speaking of work, my boss wants to give the two of us that don't work on the weekends a blackberry to answer email leads. me and a blackberry on friday and saturday nights. i was telling nigel about this and didn't think much of it until she pointed out that i am one heck of a drunk texter. oh yeah... "yeah, show me your nipples and i'll sell you this car..."
so the other day i was at nigel's house, she was making me dinner. and i was talking to her 9-year-old daughter about these custom made dolls that you can buy that look just like you. they are so dead on, it's like freaky. and they're so expensive, they must be extracting dna from the paperwork you send in. but they won't make scars or cleft chins or anything like that. well i thought it said you couldn't have a doll with a cleft palette, which sort of makes sense, who wants an ugly fucking doll like that? but nigel's daughter didn't know what a cleft palette was, she'd never heard of a harelip - so i had to explain it. by drawing a diagram. where's libbeth when you need her?
i'm getting sick. another bladder infection. this pisses me off.
oh. so i bought and downloaded the new kanye cd. it's the bestest ever. i legally downloaded it because my mom doesn't like people knocking on the door, ever, so i don't think lars from metallica would be a good houseguest.
"yarrrr.... i'm lars.... and you're fucking music pirate."
i need to go to bed. i'm tired.
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