brrrr and windy

it's so windy outside it sounds like it's tornado-ing. for real. it sounds like my windows are blowing in. leaves are all over the place - in the air, on the ground, stuck in my windshield wipers - but not where they're supposed to be and that's on the tree. poor naked trees. kingsley likes leaves, to a point, but when they're blowing around like this he gets all freaked out and refuses to pee in the grass (maybe they tickle, i don't know) and instead pees on the sidewalk. my neighbors have to love that.

but i know they don't hate me as much as my "i watch hardcore porn with the windows open, volume all the way up and the tv facing the world" neighbor downstairs. he's gotta be the most popular guy here, especially with all the parents and little kids running around.

so anyway. yesterday was three dog bakery's dog-o-ween celebration and since i love the three dog bakery and kingsley loves the treats, mom and i thought it would be fun to take the pootie for free goodies. O. M. G. i realized just how unreasonable my dog can be sometimes after we fought with him in the car on the 20 minute ride over there and then had to load him back in the car after walking for 10 minutes when he bit my mom on the knee and ripped her favorite jeans. the little bastard! no, not really - he was really freaked out, being out of his element and especially being surrounded by little kids in costumes. kingsley had a rough day. :( but it was made better when his grandma bought him new food (and bones!) so he persevered. :) he's okay now. i just have to teach him how to sew so he can put a patch on grandma's jeans...

it's a long weekend for me - i haven't had to work all weekend, plus i'm off tomorrow because wal-mart and i have a doctor's appointment with dr. mahone. she's going to want to talk to us about having an nt scan (which i think is a good idea) and doing the quad screen (which i'm not really sold on having done). i wouldn't do anything different even if anything were wrong - so if something were wrong, i'm only going to worry more for the next 7 months. and if something isn't wrong, i'm going to worry myself sick until the test results come back. and in a lot of cases there are lots of false positives, which means i'd be worrying myself for no good reason because there's a chance things would be just fine.

and i really don't need help in the worry department, i do well enough on my own, thank you very much.

i think we're alone now

when i was a kid i had no idea that some artists would remake older (and better) artists' music. so when i first heard this song - "i think we're alone now" - i thought tiffany, in all her red-haired glory, was a musical genius.

it's no wonder my parents laughed at me like they did.

but it's sort of a fitting title, given the situation.

last thursday, i asked the bee to leave.

again.

and he obliged.

again.

there's a lot of hurt feelings on my end and a lot of anger on his end. it's a concoction that doesn't go down easy for anyone. we've talked, and we can talk and talk and talk until we literally are out of words, but nothing is being resolved. sometimes i wonder if the differences are too big and if caring isn't enough.

and so for now, anyway, this is the way it needs to be.

so it's me and wal-mart and kinglsey. and fluffy the goldfish. and we're going to be okay. in spite of my fits of hormones and/or loneliness, we're going to be okay.

it's the only way to be.

civic duty complete

i went and voted this evening. there was satellite voting at the library in town and i decided to go and do my patriotic duty. voting early is a little less exciting - i was the youngest one there by several decades and there's no cute little "i voted" sticker. :( but now i can sit home and watch the coverage on november 4 instead of waiting in line.

i like to watch the election coverage. the first time i could vote was the 2000 election, bush/gore, and i sat up for hours waiting to see how it turned out. yeah. i could have sat there on the sofa for two weeks and it wouldn't have made any difference. but i'd voted and that's what counts.

so the ballot had two sides - the first was all the big names that everyone's familiar with, the second side was city/county stuff that i didn't know much about. my mom always taught me that voting is a private matter and you don't tell who you voted for, but i have to say on like the judges and stuff, when asked "do you think so and so should remain in office?" i had to say yes. i don't want to be the one to put somebody out of a job, not in this climate.

so anyway. yay me. yay for wal-mart, it was baby's first election too.

did i tell you the wal-mart story? lol...

so the day after i had the ultrasound done, i took the photos to my mom's, handed them to her and said, "the baby looks something like a walnut."

she says, "did you say wal-mart?"

"no, a walnut."

"wal-mart?!"

"NO! a waaallllnnuuuttttt."

and as such, the baby is now affectionately referred to as "wal-mart" - everyone's favorite supercenter.

as i promised...

some of the many photographs taken over our vacay... (i'm the cute one with the curly hair, hehehe...)

yup, that's me. i like this picture because my giant-in-real-life head looks crazy small.

et tu, brutus? caesar, doing his thing.

the bee. once again in parole stripes. i swear he owns more shirts than this.

look! i'm not a liar! a different shirt. all that we're lacking is robert loggia. and the piano lessons.

we're world travelers. we hit paris on the way back from vegas.

baby bump or too much bacon? i'm not telling.

the view from the hoover dam. it's NOT a god damn, btw. (sorry mom.)

look at those teeth! god i have beautiful teeth.

my favorite hotel (that i've never stayed at): the venetian. gorgeous.

venice. (as provided by the venetian.)

aww, aren't we cute?

i love to travel buzz buzz buzz...

for those of you not familiar with one of my all time favorite commercials (how could you not remember this classic?!), here you go.

i do love to travel. but the best part of any vacation is coming home to happy doggies and my own bed - there's just no feeling in the world like it.

ahh, vacation. it was a blast. the bee and i got along 94 percent of the time (which has to be a record for us, really) and we spent the majority of our time together. we walked up and down fremont street, we walked up and down the strip, we walked everywhere. it was crazy, the amount of walking we did. this was his first trip to vegas and watching his reactions to the city was fun - he's like a little kid with new toys: "look at that! did you see that one? omg, look at that!" it was cute.

and i do have pictures, but they're still on the camera and i'm at work. check back later.

but vegas is definitely a city for the un-pg. no drinks, limited fish, no hot tubs - ugh. but the bee didn't make too much of an issue about it - the only thing that really caused an argument was my urge for massive amounts of cheese one morning around 2am. room service (because i was *not* getting out of my jammies) didn't have a cheese plate for 1; it was a cheese plate for 12. and it cost $50, once you add in a tip and my ginger ale. so yeah. i sat up, watched some old school montel and ate my $50 worth of cheese and crackers and grapes. it was awesome. (no for real. it was really good cheese.)

one of the coolest things we did (i thought, anyway) was make the trip to see the hoover dam. (is this a god dam? sorry, mom. i couldn't resist.) it was incredible. (again, pictures yet to come.) it's one of those places that makes you realize that there are bigger things in the world than you (and i don't mean literally, duh). when you think about the time, effort, ingenuity, the foresight that went into such a massive project, it's pretty amazing.

pictures would probably help here, but i'm blogging at work. deal.

other things that happened in vegas (that aren't staying in vegas, lol):

• i had my first experience with a stranger rubbing my stomach. yes, i'm pregnant but no, i don't really look it yet. i just look fat. so basically she could have been rubbing a fat person's stomach, i think she just lucked out and got me and i am actually con bebe.
• thanks to the bee (and i will *never* let him live this down), we had the timeshare experience from hell. FO SHO. we had a pitbull in lipstick for a sales rep and she sunk her teeth in and would not let go until we signed on the dotted line. no, we didn't buy a timeshare. however, we were so blatantly rude that if i hadn't been so freaking frustrated i would have been embarrassed. as it was, she was lucky i didn't cold cock her and steal her freaking car just to get away. ugh. and all in the name of $50 in food and magician tickets? um, no. my advice to you: walk on by the attractive stand and fast talking salespeople. just walk on by.
• PLUS! this timeshare-hocking-biznatch kept telling the bee and i that we look alike. wtf? NO. ugh.

so anyway. yes, it was a good time. but yes, i'm happy to be home. and since i don't have any pictures to entertain you, here's a couple more completely hilarious discovery channel commercials.

clean up in aisle three

i threw up at my desk this morning. usually i get some sort of warning - some something that says, leave what you're doing and head east towards the bathroom immediately. nope. not today. and so i puked in my hand, on my sweatshirt and in the trashcan before i made it to the potty. in light of that, there is nothing more convincing of the fact that you're actually sick than tossing cookies in your cube - the boss doesn't argue when you say "i need to go home."

except i didn't go to my home. i'm at my mom's home. if i go to my home, i'm obligated to let the dogs out of their houses and take them outside. i guess i'm not really obligated, i mean, they're dogs, right? but kingsley is the master of puppy dog eyes (especially since he's a puppy dog) and i can't be in the same room with him while he's penned up, it just makes me feel so guilty. i'm a sucker, i know. i'm okay with it. but anyway. this being sick thing sucks.

and from what i hear, it may not go away anytime soon. i haven't said anything about it thus far, i'm kind of nervous and stressed and anxious, truth be told, to say too much or to get too excited about it, but if you look to the right you'll see that (once again) we're pregnant.

surprise.

today is 7 weeks and 5 days. and tomorrow is the first ob/gyn appointment and i gotta say, i'm this close -><- to freaking out. it's really hard for me not to compare one to another and we all remember what happened last time. i can't go through that again. i don't want to put my family and my friends through that again. but, as several people have told me, there's no reason to think that things will end badly - i'm as normal as can be up to this point. in fact, my doctor said to me that there's no reason i can't have healthy and happy babies. and i heard her say that, i can hear her saying that (it's burned in my brain) but i sort of feel like i just have to get through the next few weeks and i'll feel better about this, you know? then i won't be so scared and it'll feel okay to be excited. until then, i'm sort of holding my breath, trying to take things one day at a time.

it's harder than it sounds.

i have some mixed emotions right now and the bee, well, i don't think he knows what to think. we have happy days and days filled with worry and i guess that's to be expected. we try to joke that "the bean" likes mexican food and doesn't really care for frosted mini wheats but it always feels a little weird. last night when i told him that by the time this is over i'll have 50 percent more blood in my body than the average bear and he just found that fascinating (i think it's because he's a guy and guys appreciate gory things like that) but other times i feel like i'm force feeding him information with a crap-flavored spoon.

who knows.

we've both decided that it is a second chance - to do all the things that we didn't do last time, to appreciate all the things that we didn't get to appreciate last time and to not take each other for granted as we have in the past. and we both subscribe to that program... sometimes. it's another thing that's easier said than done. but we're going to persevere.

and so that is that. we're holding off on telling some people; others already know. i told my dad yesterday when he called and i think he was crying when we got off the phone. good or bad, i'm not sure, i didn't have the heart to ask.

this does sort of put a damper on the vegas vacation we have planned for next week. so much for spending three days drunk as a skunk in the neon jungle. nope. now i get to sip virgin drinks and be the dth, which would be the designated taxicab hailer, and put up with everyone else's antics. it's kind of payback for all those times... well, if you were there, then you know. and if you weren't, you can only imagine. i must say that the buffets are far more important now than they ever were before, and bitches, there better be some crab legs.

speaking of buffets: i am eating like a horse. for real. and it's really strange, because i'll be all starving for a particular thing (like this carmel dip that a friend's mom used to make in the fifth grade) and then i'll make it or i'll go buy it and all i can stand is ONE BITE. what's up with that? i'm so happy to have whatever it is that i'm craving in my hand and then i have one bite and then i'm done. it doesn't taste good anymore and i don't want anything to do with it. lucky for me, the bee is usually around when this happens and he's all about free food and/or leftovers, so maybe it's really lucky for him. by this is all over, i'm going to weigh nine tons...

chubby kids, save my seat.

and there's not even anything on tv!

i can't sleep. this is getting ridiculous. i can't sleep because i can't breathe. i can't breathe because i've got a cold that apparently is the "super cold" of all colds and is immune to all typical cold treatments, not that i'm taking any cold medicines, because, well, because i'm just not. anyway. the point of this is that i'm not sleeping while everyone else in the house IS sleeping, quite soundly - the bee and both the puddies are snoring and it sounds like i have motorcycle races going on in my apartment.

so far, buddha is winning and the bee is a close second.

score!

i just found a junior mint under my keyboard.

the day is looking up.

keep your pants on if you're working with me

i wake up some mornings and things just *bug* me. some of these things bug me all the time, some of these things have never bugged me before, and some things are everyday things that i've decided just piss me off.

like the parking lot at work. just an example. there are like 4,000 people that work in this particular building of giant conglomerate "we are taking over the world six city blocks at a time" bank. and for those 4,000 employees there are three parking lots - two close to the building that hold about 12 vehicles each and one across the street that holds the remaining 3,976 vehicles. and in this parking lot, this vast see of shiny metal and glass and plastic, there are about 1,400 handicapped spots. now i'm not picking on handicapped people. AT ALL. and it's never really (seriously, anyway) crossed my mind to use my (fake) handicap tag at work. what bothers me is that these are handicapped spots across the street from the building. for real, they're about 26,000 feet from the front of the building and only 500 feet from the back of the parking lot - so how is that any help for anyone who may be physically disabled? explain that to me.

something else? we have badges at this job - badges that id us as cogs in the machine, building blocks forming the foundation of this giant corporation, human batteries in the matrix. these badges allow us entry into the building, right? we have to swipe at like three different doors before we can get to our desks, and then we're subjected to retinal scans, fingerprinting, blood tests and trivial pursuit "graduate school" edition trivia questions before we can logon to the system. and i'm not even going to tell you what that entails (not because i don't want to, but it's classified and they'll come over and kill me, leaving my dead body at my desk as an example to all the others that may be attempting contact with the outside world).

what? what happened? i think i blacked out...

right. badges. back on track. so then, at the end of the day or any other time you try to escape these walls, there are red "exit" buttons on the inside of the doors that you have to press before you can actually leave. hmmm... so everyday, right, EVERY FREAKING DAY, when it's time for me to leave, i'm all walking out in a stream of people. and if i happen to be first, it ends up like that visa check card commercial where one person throws off the entire machine due to stupidity. yeah, that's me. because i never remember to push the button. i want to sue just based on the fact that this is a fire hazard. or because if i were at the front of a very long line i could completely be killed in a riot/stampede of angry bank workers.

for real.

and wouldn't that be embarassing, killed in a sea of business casual khaki and polo shirts? that's not how i envisioned myself going out of this world, you know? and what if i were color blind and couldn't see that the button is red? then what? what if no one were around and i stood there pushing on the door until my body gave way from weakness and dehydration. because i KNOW none of these khaki-clad sonsabitches is going to help me out, the bastards.

solution? at the end of the day i make sure that i'm one of several employees in a line out the door, which brings up another problem - how long is too long to stand and wait and hold the door for someone?

gahh...

so while camping i got a bit of sun, right? quite a bit, actually. i was beet-freaking-red for a while - forehead and all, it was hot. i was hot. literally, hot to the touch. just hot in general. my organs were baking, that's how hot.

anyway. so too much sun gives way to sunburn which eventually gives way to peeling skin. gross, isn't it? in fact, that was what, more than 10 days ago and i'm *still* peeling. which i don't really mind, it gives me something to do while watching tv. i leave little bits o' skin all over the place, sometimes i try to see just how big the chunks can get, right, and so i hold them up and i'm all, "BEE! look at this! that's the biggest one EVER!" and he gets a little grossed out with me. i got to thinking the other day, if giant conglomeration bank ever turns into the movie "gattaca" (which if you've not seen it, it's a weird movie with jude law in a wheelchair, which i tend to think is a huge waste of jude law, but whatever. i'd take that guy wrapped in aluminum foil soaked in rotten potato salad, he is that yummy.) i am fucked hardcore, man. not kidding. there are little pieces of my dna all over the place.

not that i've done anything wrong, but...

whatever. what was i talking about? oh yeah. so the reason that this one spot on my leg won't heal (other than the fact that i'm constantly picking at it) is because my jeans rub on it all day and it's actually physically impossible for it to grow back. at this rate, my knees will be skinless until i'm in my late 40s. so i propose, in addition to an ice cream day next friday, that we at giant conglomeration bank, have a pants off work day. similar to pants off dance off, but hopefully not as sweaty.

because sweat + work = not good. actually, the more i think about a pants-free day at the office, the more i think i might call in sick that day. work - pants = not good.

well, hell.

yeah, so i really should be working. more laters, taters.

buy them books, they eat the covers. and the pages.

no toy, no matter how precious, is exempt from the wrath of the puddies. for example, this last weekend at the dog show (clap clap, clap clap clap-ap-ap-ap-ap-ap-ap DOG SHOW!) we purchased a new puppy toy. a couple of them actually, but one was immediately taken to as a puddie "favorite." his name was long squawk silver and he was a pirate rubber chicken with an awful, moaning squeaker. and the puddies LOVED long squawk silver, so much that they ripped the squeaker out of him yesterday, which made me happy because everytime they'd step on it i'd just about have a heart attack, that's how much it sounded like someone dying in my living room.

but today, long squawk silver met his demise. i'm not sure of the exact time of death but i can tell you it was quick and painless.

poor long squawk. he will be missed.

my puddies are not murderers, they are just misunderstood. yes, that is the rubber chicken's HEAD.

speaking of puddies, here are some recent mugs:

kingsley, my baby :)

buddha, the barking wonder-dog

don't be fooled. they're both going through the terrible twos. i say "lay down" they just stand there and bark. they co-conspire in making awful messes, destroying furniture and eating us out of house and home and pretty much the neighbor's house too.

for real.

and for those of you that don't believe that the janel can camp (because it *is* hard to believe, i know), here is photogenic proof:

the janel knows how to rock a tent, biznatches.

and speaking of mug shots, here's the bee rocking his (prisoner) polo shirt:

just released on parole.

this is one that i do think is cute:

the bee and his nephew kooper. cute!

and this one's just for fun, because my legs look nineteen feet long here...

one day, i'm going to be six feet tall like cindy crawford.

that's about all i have for today. i'm tired and it sounds like the dogs are eating the laundry basket. peas out.

old people logic

in trying to remember the saying, "if you've nothing good to say, best to say nothing at all," all i could come up with was "loose lips sink ships."

sort of the same premise, but not really. either way, i'm not feeling too talkative.

laters.

your metaphor is digging into my cankles

have you seen that commercial? that old lady cracks me up. i don't really care about the wireless printer so much (as i sit here with a 35-foot ethernet cable draped across the entertainment center and the doggie kennels and the floor, up to the sofa where i blog) but the old lady in the commercial is hil-freakin-arious, folks.

it's some funny stuff.

my hands smelled like hot dogs all day and i couldn't figure out why. it was a long-ass day today at work; time couldn't go fast enough for me. i can tell you it wasn't much of a day for working - i finished two crossword puzzles and three sudokus while harassing the non-bill-paying bastards that are my customers.

"hi, is mrs. fill-in-the-blank there? hi, this is superjanel from giant conglomerate bank and i'm calling in regards to your -- hey, i think 28-down is "THE UN!" which, if you were completing the ny times crossword today, 28-down really was "the UN" - the clue being a n.y. country club.

tricky, tricky.

so since i've been home i've been watching the weather channel and all the coverage that tropical storm gustav brings with it. i made tuna casserole for dinner and ate broccoli and cauliflower and drank about a pitcher and a half of ice tea, i'm so very thirsty today. i cleaned house, did laundry, walked the pooties until they were tired (which is a long freaking haul, my friends) - it's been a productive evening. and that's how exciting my life has been today - how about yours?

i'm working my way towards a loooong weekend and generally i look forward to not working but the bee and i have turned a relaxing camping trip into a giant freaking circus production, much like we do with just about anything. first off, you have to realize that i haven't been camping in about 16 years. that's not a joke. the last time i went camping was with my entire family, before my parents split up and life got weird, each of us kids got to pick out our own cans of shasta soda (which was available in about 73 different flavors) and i wasn't afraid of large bodies of water or the shit that swims/floats/rots in it.

i can't say that those are my favorite memories - i was a snotty, bratty, shithead of a kid and i thought i was too good for all that jazz - but at least i can look back at them now and laugh.

ha.

so anyway. we're planning a camping trip. it started out as me and the bee and the puddies. then it was me and the bee and the puddies and his sister on saturday night. then it was me and the bee and the puddies and his sister and my brothers and my brother's girlfriend. now add about (what seems like) 12 belligerent alcoholic 23-year-old jack off guys - friends of the bee. to me, this sounds like a recipe for getting kicked out of a campground and/or arrested. to him, it's a raging good time and what camping is all about.

um, i think i'd rather get kicked out of an applebee's and call it good. let's take the tent back and just go eat dinner.

but it's not to be. instead i'll spend my holiday surrounded by assholes (i'm surrounded by assholes!) and eating hot dogs and sweating. a lot. (i didn't mean you, steph. you're not an asshole.)

good times.

oh well. at least i'll have the puddies.

i rented movies last night and haven't watched a one of them. i usually love scary/freaky/gory movies (what can i say, they've grown on me) and so i rented a couple weirdo looking ones. but i have to say, when i'm home alone, those things are far less funny and far more frightening. now obviously, i'm 28 and i'm old enough to know there's not a monster under my bed. BUT... as previously mentioned, i'm going camping this weekend and who's to say there's not crazy perverted psychopaths in the woods with machetes and axes, waiting to cut off my arms and legs and leave me flopping and squirting blood in the woods in the middle of the night? i mean, i'll be the chubby girl there - they always get clobbered first in the movies.

diet pills, stat! and some good running shoes, i won't be one of those biz-natches that's running around in the great outdoors in 8-inch hooker heels.

(ain't that a pretty picture?)

and why am i all alone, you may be asking? (and if you're not, too bad.) the bee is back on the road in waterloo - doing manly jobs and getting dirty and working long hours. when jobs like this come about i'm glad he doesn't have time to come home. he gets tired and whiny and jackassy and it's probably a good thing that there's 130 miles in between us - there's only room for one tired, whiny and jackassy baby in the house and i (as the elder and the girl) take priority.

neener, neener, neener...

i'm putting the puddies in their houses and going to bed. i'm pooped. peas out.

my angel

i'm not going to be sad today.

okay, that's a lie. i can't help but be sad today. if things had gone the way i wanted, today would have been my due date. in my mind, today's the day my life would have changed forever. a friend told me that this week is a major hurdle in healing and i know she's right - i've been carrying this weight around since february. maybe now i can begin to let it go.

i hurt every day for the might have beens, the should have beens and the what ifs. my heart hurts every day for that one little person that i don't get to meet. that one amazing little person i'll never get to hold, i'll never get to comfort when he cries, i'll never get to see him smile.

but that doesn't mean i can't - or don't - love him with all that i have.

the day i found out i was pregnant - i cried. i cried because i was scared that i wouldn't be able to support a child - i was scared that i wouldn't be good enough, that i wouldn't be able to give him what he needed, that my patience would be too short, that i wouldn't know what to do. but the moment i learned i was with a child, my entire point of view changed. i learned that it's not all about me anymore - i learned that i could love deeper than i'd ever loved anyone or anything before. and furthermore, i wanted to give every ounce of energy, time, every little piece of me to making sure my baby's life was fulfilling. i'd never felt that sort of unselfishness toward another person before.

that was the most amazing feeling in the world.

when i first saw him on the ultrasound, i was amazed. he looked perfect. he was beautiful. that was the happiest day of my life - i couldn't breathe, i couldn't speak - i was just in awe of this incredible little person inside of me. i felt like a mother that day and i couldn't wait to meet my child. i felt like i'd finally found my purpose - it all just felt right.

but it just wasn't meant to be. none of it was meant to be. life would not have been liveable for my child and i couldn't continue just for my own selfish reasons, no matter how much i wanted to. my baby was sick - he wouldn't have survived - and i couldn't put him through the pain and suffering. i did what i had to do and while i regret that decision every single day - i hate myself for that decision - i hate that i had to make such a decision - deep down, i know it was the right thing, the only thing, that could be done.

and so it was. it was hard. it was so, so hard. and it continues to be hard. i have good days and i have terrible days. sometimes i can smile and sometimes i just cry. i miss that person, i miss that feeling in ways i can't even begin to describe. i feel like i was robbed, like a part of me was stolen and there is no way to recover it. i try to console myself with the knowledge that he's up there, he's waiting for me, and someday, i'll get to see him. someday i will get to meet that amazing little person that changed my life and my outlook in ways i never imagined.

i find consolation in the fact that i gave him back to God before he could suffer, before he had experienced pain but not before he knew love.

and so today i'm having a small ceremony of sorts. my momma and i are releasing balloons near the river today in celebration of the life that changed mine. i'm hoping that releasing balloons to the sky will release some of the guilt i feel about the entire situation. i know it's just a day - and technically, it's no different than yesterday was or tomorrow will be - but it's the day. and i can't just let it pass. so let the release escort out the remorse and the negativity and usher in a welcoming of a new page, an ongoing life and the remembrance of a child. an amazing, beautiful child that i will always love and always remember.

so today i am a little sad. and that's okay. because i'm healing. i'm recovering. i'm shedding the blame that i've shouldered and i'm appreciating the person that changed my life forever.

i'm going to be okay.

nothing good happens after midnight.

it's past my bedtime but i can't sleep. my day at work sucked - my attention span is nil. not to mention i have the headache from hell (and have had all day) and i have 47 people wanting me to do 47 different things when all i want to do is sit down and cry. scream, even. and when i'm done with all that, i'd just like to try to find my focus.

i'm stressed about the bee and things completely out of my control. i don't even really want to talk about it except to say that the closer i get the more he pushes me away. and then i feel like the idiot for putting myself out there in the first place.

two little steps forward, fourteen giant steps back. all in the name of love, right?

whatever.

everybody gets a free pass. some people even get two. but when is the time to draw the line? when is the time to step back and reevaluate, to figure out what's healthy for me and what's not?

i keep finding myself coming back to this internal argument i've been having for years - distinguishing love from comfort and want from need.

the words are the same; only the faces are changing.

i don't know. the more i think i know, the more i get my ass kicked for being presumptuous. i do believe it's time to fold and admit that in the grand scheme of life, i know nothing. and everything i thought i knew probably isn't right.

i'm taking my negative attitude and going to bed. or at least trying to sleep. i'll try to make better choices tomorrow.

no more milk cartons

i forgot to tell you.

i found my punctuation.

there's a chance that it was never missing in the first place.

whatever. all is now well in *that* department.

productivity is for pussies.

i have to admit, i nearly skipped work today. it's a stupid day to work anyway - a five hour shift starting at 5pm - wtf? and it would have been just as easy to call in - a fake cough here, a little sniffle there generally does the trick. or my personal favorite, the mysterious, "i can't come in" and then hang up. then i have more time to come up with something important/weird/life altering to excuse my absence.

can you tell i've done this a lot in the past? i am the queen of missing work. not that great a title, i realize, but we all have to be good at something, right? i just happen to be good at doing nothing, during which i come up more excuses to keep me idle, so really while i'm doing "nothing" i'm really doing "something" even though it's not particularly productive.

did you get that?

so anyway. i'm at work. i'm actually working - no, for real. they (they being "the man" that looks over my shoulder at my place of work) can't complain that i have not been completing my job duties. because i am rocking this joint this evening. i just happen to be rocking this joint while also doing things that don't really pertain to work: texting, blogging, playing games online. it's a rough life i lead...

boo-yah.

i have noticed a trend, and this makes me laugh. when i come to work crabby - i'm better at my job. i'm more argumentative and more likely to harass people into giving me money. which sort of makes sense but then when i leave here, after being crabby all day and crabbing and arguing with customers - then i go home and be crabby too. and *that* sort of defeats the purpose of the whole work as therapy theory.

whatever.

so my new phone is wonderful. i adore it. the battery doesn't last very long but i can deal. the really great thing is the texting: based on the words that i put in - my phone tries to complete my thoughts and my sentences. like, my phone guessed the word "retarded," which was awesome. but then when i put in "we shouldn't ..." it suggested "drink" when i really was thinking "argue." does my phone think i have a drinking problem? i've never lost it in platteville, dropped it in a toilet or subject it to any of the abuse that i've made other phones suffer on my nights out. this phone is a big whiny sucky baby.

wahh, wahh, wahh...

ugh. i have to pee. i never have to pee as much as i do when i'm at work. only at work do i have to pee every thirty minutes. everywhere else i can hold it like a camel. for real. and at work, i'm really weird about this - but i can't use the first two stalls. i think i watched a 60 minutes or something when i was like 7 years old that said that the first two stalls are the germiest everywhere you go. so i use the third stall. every time. or i don't go.

which is funny, because i'm sure everyone that watched that also avoids the first and second stall and so now we're all using the first stall and now it's the germiest and grimiest of the bunch. but whatever. i chalk it up to my ocd. and that makes me feel better.

i'm going to go pee now.

pee's out.

corey feldman, pootie beds and missing punctuation, oh my.

i've mentioned before that we're big blockbuster users. all hail the blue and gold logo that causes us to open our wallets and our homes to so many awful, horrible films. conservatively, i'd guess that i enjoy about 3.7256 movies we rent out of every 10.

why so few, you ask? because i'm only half of the movie-renting-population in this apartment and the other 50 percent of the population has terrible taste in movies. (and television and food and lots of things, but for right now, we're only talking about movies.) movies like b-grade slasher films and self-produced bounty hunter films.

my horizons have certainly been expanded, but not in any way that i'd want to discuss in front of people.

would you like an example? right now - literally - right now, we're watching "the lost boys: the tribe". it's the anxiously-awaited sequel (that was sarcasm) to the 1987 vampire classic (that was not sarcasm, i love that movie) "the lost boys". the only common denominator between the two (beyond the setting, the cinematography, the theme song, blah, blah, blah) is corey feldman.

now i don't know how much tv you watch, i watch more than the recommended daily allowance, but corey feldman can be found on the internet (or encyclopedia britannica if you're old school, and i'm down with that) under all. washed. up. i've watched bits and pieces of that show on a&e "the two coreys" and i've seen firsthand, from my sofa, that dude is at the end of his career.

official janel rating: three thumbs way down. way, way down. like, down, on the floor, down. (btw, the janel does *not* have three thumbs, she's borrowing the thumb of the bee, sitting next to her because this movie is that bad. for real.)

moving on.

so last week i went to lunch with my dad. not that exciting, we talked about same ol' boring stuff: his farm, the barn, the weather, his knack for spending money he doesn't have (I TOLD YOU PEOPLE IT WAS GENETIC!). and then we went to costco. where, in his constant attempts to purchase forgiveness for not being around for the majority of my teenage years, he bought me a giant bed for the pooties.

no, really, giant. big mc large HUGE. it's like 36 inches by 42 inches or something like that. i'd get you the exact measurements but the pooties ate the tag. and that right there is the point of this blurb. it's a nice, comfy, well-upholstered rectangle of a doggie bed and the only thing they're interested in doing is eating the "do not remove" tag and the zippers.

they won't lay on it, they'll only lay beside it. especially kingsley, because the first time that he did stand on it, buddha decided he wanted to move the bed from one end of the living room to the other and kingsley got a nice ride. (funny to watch, not so funny for the pootie, i'm sure.)

good times. it's just that much more crap on the floor that i get to clean up every day.

woot.

and finally: missing punctuation. you may or may not know what that means, and if you don't, well, you should try harder to keep up. no new developments - nothing. nada. zip. zilch. zero. and it's not like i could have missed it - or misplaced it. i have the kind of punctuation that you know when you're having it. and i haven't had it. i'm frustrated. and i can't get into the doctor for a few more days.

ugh.

stupid back-to-schoolers having all their stupid back-to-school physicals. don't they know they're dicking up my schedule?

there are things i need to KNOW, man. your vaccinations can wait.

and on that note, i'm going to go watch stupid movie number two, "the bank job." however, this movie employs the talent of one jason statham, who i will never tire of listening to or watching.

*sigh*

peas out, ninjas.

for the record...

that last post had nothing to do with underpants.

GO ME.

me & axl, we just need some patience

i'm pretty sure i am the biggest loser in my fantasy racing league this week. i haven't even checked but i'm pretty darn sure. i'll even go out on a limb here and confirm it - i am the biggest loser in my fantasy racing league. and that would be because i didn't even change my weekly picks. that makes what - four weeks in a row now?

am i really *that* busy? (no.)

is my life *that* hectic? (no.)

nope. i'm just that much of a space case anymore - i have no idea what my problem is. i can't focus on much of anything without seriously straining myself. (ow, i just pulled my brain.)

that, and i'm really, really tired all of the time. right now even - and i slept in until well past 8 o'clock.

it's like an adult case of adhd - self diagnosed, because we all know that self diagnosed disorders are the most fun, right? when i was 9 years old, i read about restless leg syndrome in seventeen magazine. (and what the hell was i doing reading seventeen magazine at age 9, but that's for another day...) and for years i was convinced that i had rls. in fact, sometimes when i can't sleep at night and my feet are all fidgety i *still* think it's my rls kicking in.

hypochondriac much? eh, maybe.

but back to that adhd thing - for real, i might want to look into that. (in fact, reading this makes me worry just a little bit more.)

or it could just be the fact that i'm stressing about things that i have NO control over, none whatsoever. and that just pisses me off because i fear what i can't control. and the more i think about it - it, this thing that's stressing me out - well, it'll either happen or it won't. and either way, it's a good thing if it does and after a while, it's a good thing if it doesn't. so maybe i should just relax and wait and see - which is the advice that i've been given.

(easy advice to give.)

patience, grasshopper, patience.

too bad when god was handing out patience i jumped out of line because the wait was too long...

(i also missed the butt line, but again, that's for another post.)

i have to go to work today. blecch... but my adhd (hehehe...) may be to blame for my inability to get anywhere on time. seriously - "if you have ADD/ADHD, you may be chronically late to work" - it's right there in black and white.

and we all know that everything on the internet is true, right?

indeed.

are you looking at my underpants?

"you probably hear this all the time, but you have beautiful boxers."

um, no.

a middle age woman said this to me from her car window this evening. i couldn't figure out what in the hell she was talking about until it dawned on me - she was referring to the dogs and not my underwear. not that i was wearing boxers - not that i ever wear boxers - but for some reason, i couldn't get it out of my mind that she was talking about my underpants until she went on to say that she has a brindle at home. brindle and underpants just don't mix - that's when i realized she was talking about the puddies.

duh.

it's just me and the puddies at home tonight. the bee is working overnight this evening. it's weird and quiet here without him - although, i can watch what i want to watch and that's pretty neat-o.
not that there's anything good on tv right now...

so i got a new phone. it's amazing. i'm in love.

this phone is pretty much the coolest thing ever. and it's GREEN, which is the best color ever.

*sigh*

i'm tired. and i can't think of anything else to write at the moment.

peas out.