I Robbed A Girl Of Her Virginity

I recently re-connected with a friend from my short stint in Boston (junior year of high school) on Facebook. Gotta love FB right? She's a quirky and energetic Egyptian girl who came from an ultra conservative family. Sad to say I have no clue what religion they practiced, I'm thinking she was Muslim? Pretty sure. Wow I sound so ignorant right now - it's embarrassing.

Anyhow - for her 17th birthday she had a party and somehow when a bunch of girls get together for longer than an hour, periods come up. ALWAYS. How conversations come to that point is beyond me, perhaps it's an instantaneous bonding topic as we all loathe the idea of menstruating, but nonetheless, it happened.

So somehow we figured out that she had never used a tampon before. Which is a damn.crying.shame. So we all felt inclined to make her try it out, well it was probably more like I felt inclined, and I'm so obnoxious and loud and crazy that everyone else felt the need to jump on the jennyeffingcrazybandwagon. She went into the bathroom alone and the rest of us crowded around the door like (insert dreamy teen idol around the summer of 2001, perhaps Heath Ledger or Freddie Prinze Jr. - oh gosh I think I just threw up in my mouth a little) was in there and we were trying to listen to him breathing. I swear she was in there for an hour or more, but perhaps my 17 year old mind lied to me and I am remembering incorrectly. Eventually everyone got tired of listening to Freddie Prinze's quiet breathing but I was the one who never gave up! I would hear Freddie fart and I would win!

So I stood outside that door explaining the mechanics over and over again (which seems so ridiculous now; I had problems when I first wore a tampon, like when I was 11, and it seems so foolish considering it's so "natural" - oh gosh, it SHOULDN'T be natural - now). I think she may have even cried a bit and that may have been when I thought to myself "maybe this is a mistake". Oh how THAT was the understatement of the century!

The next day at school she informed me her mom now hated me because I helped take her virginity away. Ooops! Sorry momma N! Note to self: don't force people to stick wads of cotton up their who-haaas, it may piss off their mothers.

Passive Aggressive-ness and Other Non-desirables

I am blunt. I tell it how it is 99.9% of the time. I am a people pleaser type, so occasionally what I'm thinking I sugar coat slightly, but usually I'm not scared just to say it how it is. Those jeans make your butt look lumpy. I don't want to hang out with you because you are emotionally draining. I think what you just said was biased and unfair and think you need to think more carefully before you speak. Get off your lazy patootie and clean the dishes before I throw a fist in the direction of your nuts. You cannot misinterpret what I mean.

I do not understand people who dance around the purple elephant squatting in the middle of the room taking a massive dump and never mention the obscene ever-growing pile of shit. I would walk into the room and start describing what was wrong with this picture down to the details of the particular stench. I like to stare my problems and issues straight in the face, tell them how I feel, maybe slap them, resolve it, and move on with my life. Passive aggressiveness never resolves anything. It will however cause mass confusion and bottled up frustrations and anger. (If you want a good laugh and also find passive aggressiveness entertaining, check out http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/.)

I remember once during a summer visit to home from college, this guy came to visit me. Yes, he was a complete ass and I know that now - but that is beside the point - and we wanted to go out and do something fun. My mother gave me two choices for activities she felt were appropriate or safe...I don't really know why I was given choices at all, I was an adult. Again, I digress. (She knew he was a penis but didn't tell me that until later AND I probably wouldn't have listened to her then anyways. Sorry Mom!) Unknown to me at the time, there was a right, and a very wrong choice in her mind. But when she gave me the choices she forgot to mention one of these choices would make her ignore and hate me for a week. Oh wait, I don't think she forgot. So I chose the activity I wanted to do, went on my merry way and for a week could not understand why my mom wouldn't look me in the eye or talk to me. (Mrs. Cellophane would have been my name....JAZZ. HANDS!!!!) Finally I confronted her and she told me all about it blah blah ....that guys a real creep....blah blah ....I didn't want you to go there....blah blah...you get the idea.

Now, there could have been a LOT of saved energy and less confusion in this situation if my mom, from the get-go, said "Jen, this guy is a creeper, I don't want you going to Miami, I'd rather you just go to the water park (the details are a bit rusty). You can choose, but just know that if you choose the former, I will breathe flames and pretend you don't exist for some length of time." Perfect. No miscommunication, no hidden messages, no passive aggressive behavior. I then could have made my choice knowing I could defy my mother and turn her into the fire breathing dragon lady, or I could chose the less fun option and make her happy. The result of the situation may have been the same, minus my immense confusion, but everything would have been out on the table. My mother would have been mad at me for a legit reason. It is not fair for people to make you feel guilty for something you didn't even know would make them feel bad in the first place. Pretty much the moral here is - no one likes to look or feel like an ass. Passive aggressive behavior tricks you into making a fool out of yourself. It's just not fair.

I also have a deep respect for people's lives. I do not like to impose on people, unless I know they want me to because I'm so fabulous, and I don't force myself into people’s lives. My friend Lindsay's in-laws just called her and her husband up and basically invited themselves to their home for Thanksgiving AND told her she needed to cook for the entire family (I think about 10 people) every day. There was no asking, there was only telling.

Back up the mother flippin truck - where do people get off thinking this is kosher? When did people lose all sense of propriety and waltz unannounced and unwanted all up in your face spitting out commands like you volunteered to join the armed forces or something? I think it's funny that older generations tell us our generation doesn't respects their elders, whilst our elders are treating us like door mats on a overly muddy day. What happened to being polite? What if my friends had unannounced plans for Thanksgiving or what if they just wanted to enjoy peace and QUIET?! Or heaven forbid they were fighting and needed to work some stuff out without a gawking audience! Their options were snatched out from underneath them with no warning. How unfair! People have the right to deny or accept anything. The outside party has no clue, none at all, why you are doing what you are doing, but you deserve that right.

I also cannot stand ignorant people, people with hair so large there could be a family of pigeons living in there - it is just offensive, people who like to put people down, people who have such annoying and grating laughs that mid-pee my body simultaneously stops peeing and jumps 2 inches off the toilet seat, people who don't cover their mouths when they cough or sneeze, people who think they are better than everyone, people who insult your intelligence and there own to sell you shomething, bad drivers, the existence of spam, and butt-crack in public. I also think when I'm on my period I should be able to wear sweatpants 24-7 and not get any weird looks or fired. Or better yet, just get a free pass from life and never get out of bed.

Nuff said.

Baby Questions And My Intense Spite

Ok, you can tell it's been a slow day at work considering I have like, 23 new bog posts. But I just was compelled to write about this.

So as most of you know, I live in Utah, land of jello salad, words like fetch and flip, 99% white people, and couples my age that already have more than 5 kids. I got married when I was 23 after dating Micah for about a year and a half. That flabbergasted most people. It boggled their minds that instead of rushing into marriage I was getting to know Micah and making some money. Why the only options for a post-undergraduate life here are marriage or grad school are beyond me. Heaven forbid I like working. Because everyone knows women that actually enjoy working will never have children and climb the corporate ladder until they poop 100 dollar bills.

Well sorry to blow all your minds, but this is simply not true.

It took me a whopping YEAR to even mention marriage to Micah - which he quickly dodged until I forced him to choose between me and eternal loneliness, probably because a year is still not that much time to really make an educated and sure decision to be with someone forever. But at some point you throw your fears under the bus and say, what the hell, you're 85% of what I need and want. You'll do.

So why is it SO hard for people to understand that I want to establish a sound relationship with my husband before bringing another tiny person into our lives? Heaven forbid I hit 28 and haven't had a child yet. Not to mention I don't want to be ridiculously poor when the tiny one comes. I mean, we can barely feed our two cats! Babies are expensive little bundles.

So you can see why I absolutely hate it when people ask me, "so, aren't you going to have kids?" Or "why don't you want kids?" Especially from people that are basically strangers. The undertone of your question is really saying, well hm. You have been married for 2 years, you're 25 (times a ticking sweetheart!), have a good job - ooooooooo I see. You don't want kids. You aren't going to have kids, or you would have already started. You terrible terrible satan-loving woman. What good are you unless you have children?

I want to come back and tell them a number of many things.

- My uterus is broken

- Micah's sperm don't have tails

- I have ovarian cancer

- Back off bi-atch or I will punch you in the baby maker!

- I want to have children how dare you use that undertone to make yourself feel superior to me!

- I can have children and a career. (Oh no she DIH - INT)

- What makes you think it is even remotely appropriate to ask me about something so personal?

And I have never said anything like this in response to those horrid questions before until now. I swear I will never back down from really giving people a little slice of my mind. Take today for example. Here is a thread from facebook. Not super slap in your face, but I thought it got my point across.

Me: You're pregnant! AH! Congrats!

Friend (note this is not a close friend): Thank you! It's kinda exciting. We find out what we are having next thursday. What about you? You guys thinking about any children yet?

Me: Not yet. I want to make it as awkward for myself as possible. But probably in the next 1-2 years! Until then I'm sure people will give me strange looks and wonder if my ovaries are broken.

Kid you not. That is word for word what I said. I think it is absolutely asinine that people have the gall to even ask questions like this and it's asinine that I feel ostracized and awkward for not having children yet. So like before, I will just turn the awkwardness back onto them.

Note - just to makes things clear: I love Micah and I didn't "settle". I just love sarcasm. Also I am extremely excited to become a mother (I was "for fun" looking at maternity clothes yesterday for Pete's sake!) but it's not anyone else's damn decision but mine and Micah's.

Amendment 2 - I don't hate everyone from Utah! I just hate being asked intimate questions from people who aren't that close to me.

I heart Google

You need to try this. Go google 'why' or 'why not' - don't press enter - just type it in the search box and check out what it suggests. It is freakin' hilarious. I will get some screen schots once I'm home and can photoshop the pictures. hahahahah

NetFlix Insta-Play

If ANY of you have netflix and have not taken advantage of the insta play option, you are MISSING out BIG time! I think Micah and I have saved literally at least a hundred dollars since we have reduced our renting and buying habits to nearly zero.
There are some pretty good movies on the insta play list, but the real gems are the shows. The Office, Lost, we just started Dexter and The IT Crowd, there is 30 Rock, and on and on and on. And it's all FREE (well included in ANY Netflix plan that is), streaming to your computer. Best. thing. EVER!

So - check it out and get addicted to shows so that you stay up til 2 am on a "school" night. So much more fun than sleeping. PLUS you get to have real tripped up bloody dreams when you watch Dexter. Yay for modern twisted TV shows!

Utah Bites

I haven't delved into this topic because usually when I start, I can't stop. Word vomit to a T. So I will try to keep this to what is on my mind right now and not all the reasons why I dislike Utah so much.

There are two movies I want to see REALLY, really, REALLY bad. #1 is Fantastic Mr. Fox



and #2 is Precious.



I went online to see where and when it is playing and oh...guess the freak what? Here are the two closest locations:

Kimball's Twin Peak Theatre (376.5 mi)
115 East Pikes Peak Avenue btwn Nevada and Tejon
Colorado Springs, CO 80903

OR

ArcLight Cinemas Hollywood (550.2 mi)
6360 W Sunset Blvd
Hollywood, CA 90028 (323) 464-4226

I love how moviefone.com tells me how far away they are. Micah, feel like a road trip? Psh. SO INFURIATING!

So thanks Utah for making the decision for me that these movies are not appropriate. I'd like to make that decision on my own. The real hilarious part about this is that Fantastic Mr. Fox is a kids movie. WHAT?!? I don't get it. I really don't get it at all. It makes me want to punch a hole through something or scream profanities out loud and wait for people to give me looks that scream "That young lady is seriously disturbed! Who raised her!"

Screw you Utahans. Once I leave this place I hope to never return.

Brain Fart Illness

Let me start this by saying I NEVER. EVER. EVER. get sick. So when I do get sick (which never happens, remember) I am a big fat baby. Friday I woke up feeling like I got hit by a big semi truck full of ninja turtle slime that somehow made it's way inside my brain.




It occasionally will make an appearance when I bend over too low or sneeze, but most of it must still be in my brain because something is causing the intense pressure in there. Unless it's my unborn tumor twin trying to get out. That's the only other thing I can think of.

The worst part about it all is that it won't go away. Talk about stubborn! I took Friday off work and slept on and off all day and watched 3 movies and took it way easy. I have since been taking it easy and yet the slime will not leave me. I wonder if it's feeding off my brain because since the truck wreck I can't seem to think very clearly. Or maybe that's due to the fact that reading, looking at anything brighter than death, seeing, just basically using my eyes for anything useful, feels like the slime has grown legs and is ever so politely kicking the backs of my eyeballs to make more room for its lazy ass. Also I think it's sitting in the fetal position with its little slimy bum crouched over my left inner ear. I can't hear a damn thing on that side. Maybe I'm pregnant and instead of being in my uterus, the baby is in my head. I have no idea how that could happen, but it would explain why I feel the way I do.

No matter what is going on in there, I want it to stop. I want it to go away. Sitting at work staring at this bright screen feels like someone is torturing me and about every 45 minutes I want to burst out crying. The time in between my emotional break downs consists of blankness. Usually my mind won't stop buzzing with ideas and things to do and errands to run, but now I just have a giant never ending string of brain farting poofs. I guess I could be grateful for the lack of busyness in my brain, except that the stillness just makes me want to go to sleep. I wonder if I could fool my co-workers into thinking I'm awake when I'm really not...

The Day I Met Micah My Inner Diva Was Born

My mother may disagree with the title of this post, but I guess that may hinge on the definition of the word Diva. Some people take diva to mean a brat, a showoff, a fabulous performer, and I was a little bit of all of those in my earlier years.

Even though I refused to answer the door when it rang because "a stranger is behind the door", once I was wearing sequins and some kind of mockery of a headband adorned with plastic pieces cut to look like flowers that may have sliced my cornea, luckily it never got too close to my eyes, and was placed on a stage; I was unstoppable. I was that little girl center stage never missing a beat and doing those booty thrusts a little too well. Also, when my mom busted out the video camera, I was either trying to hog all the attention by making her focus all on me and my attempts to do the middle splits or touch my nose to the ground whilst spread-legged; or I was belittling my little brother for doing something terrible like making too much noise as he innocently sipped, I mean SLURPED, his ramen noodles. So, I guess I was a mini diva back in the day - but I didn't KNOW I was a diva.

When I met Micah he opened my eyes to a world that was not all sweat pants, stud earrings, and pony tails. He opened my eyes to becoming the fashionista diva that was dying to escape. I had started gaining some fashion sense by the time I was 21, but he inspired me to totally go off the deep end. I mean, I would not allow him to look more fabulous than me in public. I'm glad my hubby is one sexy, suave, well-dressed man with impeccable style, but I will not be subjected to peoples thoughts (that you can obviously read on their faces) that are saying, "What the hell is that scrubby ginger-headed girl doing with that rock star?" I would and will not stand for it.

Micah also likes to tell me that people as beautiful as me (he's so sweet) can get away with more crazy fashion. Like the BCBG hat he helped me pick out that is definitely funky and I totally love, but cannot get over the fact that I look like a naughty police officer or train conductor when adorned. I'm glad he thinks I can get away with this, but I still struggle with the totality of confidence it takes to really go all out. But I'm getting there.

I wear crazy dramatic makeup, and that's no big deal to me, I've always been into "you're going to stare at my face NOW" kind of attention, but the clothes are different. I have to be 100% confident in the outfit, plus the body beneath it. So I went out on a limb today and wore my hair with a pretty high and mighty ratted "front-poof" (hopefully you all know what I mean) with a slicked back pony tail, leggings, with black leg warmers, patent leather pumps, and a cute black sweater and black dangly earrings. My Asian co-worker said I should go into fashion, which rocked, but then again who knows what that means. Have you seen Gwen Stefani's Harajuku girls?! There is some crazy shit going on in Asian countries.

But, where else can I try out my new Diva-ness if not at work! I want to rock that lime green eyeshadow and the hoop earrings so large they could fit around my thighs - yes plural - and those funky pants and Beyonce heels! Because after work = pajama time; the weekend = pajama time + occasional outings...but I want to have my look solidified before taken somewhere in PUBLIC! So for now my co-workers will have to come to terms with the Diva in the corner cubicle who envies Drag Queens.

Look A Like

I want to take a vote. I have been told I look like some different celebrities and want to know who you think I look the most like. All these choices are women I have been told I look like before. Honest. (They are all such a compliment but I can't believe some of the ones I have gotten.) So cast your votes!

A) Angelina Jolie

B) Julia Roberts

C) Jennifer Aniston

D) One of my personal favorites, Carmen Electra!

E) Jennifer Lopez (look at the second picture - more in the booty region...)

F) The newest addition and what sparked the idea for this blog; Amy Adams

What I find really interesting is that these women either share my name, share a love for dramatic eye makeup, or share my hair color or high cheek bones.


Ok, so I got a new one yesterday and this killed me. An asian girl looked at me and said, you look like Cinderella. I didn't even thank her right away because I was so boggled by this statement. Was it a subtle way for her to say I looked like a scrub? Or was it just meant as, wow, you look like a classic white person. Or, you glow like a disney princess? Regardless, I thought it was awesome and I'd add it to the list for kicks.

Halloween Fanatic

'm obsessed with Halloween. Or maybe I'm just obsessed with dressing up, looking over the top and creating a scene...but regardless I love this holiday. I think I need therapy I love it that much. I spent two hours on Friday dressing up for my work's Halloween Costume Contest - I won $50! and another two hours on Saturday to scare the living shit out of small children. You may think I am mean, but you should have seen how the adults thought it was hilarious when their child ran away, jumped, screamed or started crying. It made me feel like a much less terrible person when the adults seemed to enjoy it. Maybe it's some sort of twisted enjoyment for payback from all the terror their children have bestowed upon them. I'm not really sure what it was, I am sure one day when I have kids I will, but it sure did egg me on.

Micah and I went up to Twin Falls, ID to spend Halloween with his sisters and kids. Halloween is always more fun when around kids. They get so excited about all the candy while the adults are recovering from sugar hangovers and dreading cleanup of candy wrappers for the next eternity. I finished doing my makeup and got dressed and surprisingly my nieces and nephews only freaked out slightly when they saw me all decked out, but I was nice to them - I don't want to scar them for life and have them blame me for it later. Kids not related to me...I have no problem scarring. So I walked them around the neighborhood out of zombie character for 45 minutes before the "Trunk-Or-Treat" started.

My church does their own version of Halloween and it's the smartest thing ever, in my opinion. All the adults park their cars in the church parking lot and give candy out of their trunks. I like it because all the kids are in one area and this decreases chances of lost kids and creep-os handing out penis shaped candy corns. It also was a perfect scenario for my spooky character to have some fun. I stayed in my sister and brother-in-laws trunk for the first hour crouched down and breathing heavy and staring at kids until they ran away. I threw in some hisses and then started screaming outbursts. That really made a lot of them look like they just peed their pants.

Then with some of the older ones I actually started jumping out at them and then following them around the parking lot - never breaking character mind you. I actually had some adults freak out and throw stuff at me. It was awesome. Micah was especially grateful for my theatrics as he was 100% entertained the entire night. I had so much fun that when the "Trunk-Or-Treat" was over I continued to scare kids in their neighborhood.


Call me crazy, weird, mean, whatever; but scaring those kids was the most fun I've had in years.

Shout out to Thai Kitchen

I <3 this stuff.

Not only is it cheap and easy to take to work and make, but it only has 250 calories and is warm (which I crave in the bitter cold-ness of Utah winters), it's yummy, and they have several varieties that are VEGAN! What?! I know. There isn't anything quick and easy pre-packaged that's vegan. It's heaven in a bowl.

A Few of My Not So Favorite Things

Fashion faux-pas! I see these babies all the time and it is like nails on a chalkboard. Gives me the willies.

• Boys wearing "sagged" skinny jeans. (I don't mind boys in skinny jeans when they are fitted right, but really? The sagging just doesn't work here boys.)
• Sweat pants tucked into Uggs. I see this EVERYWHERE!!!!!!!!
• This is a new one : knee high boots and capris! I mean, it's one thing if your capris are long enough that they tuck into the boots and no one is the wiser, but when you are walking and I can see skin?! It's like wearing knee high nylons with a skirt not quite long enough to meet. It's called thigh-highs ladies!
• CROCS. The ONLY place these are appropriate are outdoors in the garden. That is it.
• Socks and sandals in any way, shape, or form.
• Workout shoes with jeans. They make cute sneakers for a reason.
• Pleated pants. Never flattering, never cute, never acceptable.
• Muffin tops. Come on, find jeans that fit.
• Bumpits - I enjoy some volume and back-combing as much as the next girl, but beehives haven't come back into style for a reason.
• Eye shadow that matches your eye color. Like, blue and blue. Oh yes ma'am, I am a dirty tramp from the 80's.
• Cameltoe. Nuff said.
• High water pants - get a better tailor.
• Jean on jean. You can only rock denim as one item.
• Throw your Bedazzler away. Gems are only appropriate on little beauty queen girls that have fake teeth and are slave driven.
• Leggings on larger people. Sorry, but it's just one of those things.
• Thongs/g-strings hanging out of the back of pants. Trashy!
• Spandex shorts - should have been left in the 80's. Underarmor is a different story.
• Slippers in public. I know they're comfortable...
• Curlers in public.
• Pajamas in public. (Minus the Pharmacy. That's legit.)
• Mullets are never cool anywhere or anytime. Unless it's part of a costume.
• Anything adorned with the Muppets, Looney Toons, or Winny the Pooh after the age of ten; max.
• Dark lip liner with no lipstick. Frightening.
• Fake nails so long that I ponder the mechanics of going to the bathroom.

That's all I can think of now. Stay tuned for updates!

Party Buses

I need to out loud discuss party buses. First of all, I have never been on one but have seen many a picture of people drunken off the "heezy" doing I don't want to know what. So fine, get one for a bachelor/bachelorette party, get one for some fun outing with your friends or that time you hung out with a bunch of strippers; but DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT get one when you are in a fancy dress. Prom or a wedding is what I am specifically hinting at. I mean, come on. Those buses are designed for fornication and lowering yourself to do things you wouldn't normally do when sober.

It is NOT classy.

I guess if you are having a trashy wedding and wearing a white velor J-Lo outfit to get married in it may be appropriate. But I just witnessed pictures of a girl, covered in Swarovski crystals with a tiara and the whole works - workin' it on a stripper pole in a party bus. This was before the wedding took place. I'm sorry but lay the "fun" aside and embrace your "princess-ness" by riding in a limo and drinking nice champagne - not having your wedding party drinking Bud Lite and eating Rice Krispy Treat squares in their tuxes and nice dresses on the way to the chapel.

You could have done better.

Photoshop - My New True Love

I wish I had 12 hours a day just to devote to photoshop. The things you can create with it are incredible and amazing and will be helpful in my endevors as a "designeer" (a word I stole from a photoshop site). I'm married to an artist that can render amazing pictures with a pencil and his hands. I am not so lucky so I want to try my way through the digital world.

Funny story, Micah and I visited my grandparents a few weekends ago (we are still eating the apples we helped picked - it's never ending but a delicious eternal task) and my grandpa just could not grasp what digital art/media/anything is and how you create it. It's funny how fast what we use to design changes. He couldn't even comprehend it. So crazy!

Anyways moral of this post is: I want to become a photoshop designeer extraordinaire! Look out world - here I come! (As soon as I discover 12 disposable hours in my day.)

YOGA

My new obsession. I saw this picture -->

and thought to myself...I NEED to be able to do that. First of all, I want my flexibility back. Secondly, I just want to be able to bust this out at family gatherings and parties just to show off and make a scene. Third, I want to be that strong. Fourth I want to be able to break dance, and pretty sure if I master all the difficult yoga positions, I'll be able to be the most kick-A break dancer ever.

So my yoga journey has begun. Once I master some awesomeness I will post some pics, but don't get too excited because I'm pretty sure this one may take me a good year to master.

Advice for the day: pick up yoga so you can be awesome like this chick.

Outfit Frustration

I meticulously pick out my outfits most days of the week to express myself and use clothes as a way to create something new and fun. Some days I could give a flying care what I wear; all I desire is comfort. But, on the majority of days in which I DO care, what is the point of it if I have to wear my coat all flippin' day! Good thing I have fabulous coats...

But seriously...why can't a medium temperature be decided for thermostat settings? Why do men get to choose? They are usually wearing thicker, warmer clothes than women in the work place and in my experience are just warmer all the time. Why do they get optimal comfort whilst I huddle in my cubicle trying to absorb as much heat from my tiny space heater as possible, sometimes even wearing my mittens that fold back into fingerless gloves to keep my tiny baby fingers warm as I type? My baby fingers may fall off! I have seen them get very blue before and I'm sorry, but I like my baby fingers! I want to keep them as long as possible please.

So dear men, please for once stop being so selfish and let it be slightly warmer at work. Suck it up that you may feel a bit "warm" and will need to take time out of your oh so busy schedule to take your suit jacket off. But don't worry too much, I'll be here to hand you tissues to wipe up your tears.

Ridiculous Illnesses

I understand getting sick and contracting viruses is all part of the "circle of life" if you will. But some illnesses are stupid. For instance, UTIs (urinary tract infections). Why on earth do we need an illness that makes your pee hurt. YOUR PEE! Peeing is already a pain - not literally - and takes too much time and frankly I wish I could just not go, or have a little baggie attached to me (but you still have to empty that...), or wear depends or...anyways, you get my drift.

The reason I complain you ask? I get them. ALL. THE. TIME. I get them when I use the wrong soap in the shower, when I go swimming, sometimes after sex, when I take a bath, when I don't drink enough water, when I think about cranberries, when I think about sex, or just for no damn reason at all. I tend to think my body hates me, or maybe it's trying to remind me that generally I am 100% healthy and I need a kick in the crotch - that is literal - to remind me to be grateful for my body. But I'd rather throw up once in a while or get a cold or a fever or anything other than pain like a hot curling iron searing my insides.

Alas, tis my lot in life to wrestle with these little beasts. I probably shouldn't really complain, it's not like it's cancer, nor will it kill me. Eventhough I feel like I would like to die sometimes. The end.

The Nobel Peace Prize

Everyone has been ragging on Obama since day one of his presidency, and now it has just gotten worse. I have a few points I want to make about Obama and the fact that he just won the Nobel Peace Prize.

#1 - I love Obama. I may not know every intricacy about what he is doing in office, and call me old fashioned or crazy, but I just have a good feeling about him. Every time I have heard him speak or read a speech of his, it feels and sounds sincere and honest. I do not believe he intends to take America down in flames. His intentions are solid and good.

#2 - He is trying. Why does everyone feel the need to pick him apart so early on? Lets give this man a chance!

#3 - Other countries LOVE him. That is something we need right now. We should be grateful.

#4 - Have we all forgotten what R-E-S-P-E-C-T means?! (I feel like singing now...) It's hard enough to gain respect in my life let alone being in the public eye 24-7 like he is. Lets be decent for once and have some respect for our PRESIDENT!

#5 - Lets pick apart this whole Nobel Peace Prize bit. First of all, I can see where people are a tad bit frustrated and flabbergasted that 11 days or whatever it was after his election he was nominated for the Peace Prize. Well people, he didn't nominate himself and when he was awarded the Prize he stated he didn't deserve it. Now lets not all be sassy and sarcastic and say we all deserve a Nobel Peace Prize. He IS the first black president after all! Maybe it's not even necessarily HIS ideas alone or what he plans to do with his presidency but more of the symbolism of him being in office. Maybe it means America is ready for change. Ready for more peace and tolerance. Maybe the idea of President Barack Obama gives people hope and he has a strong will and desire to make that hope a reality. Maybe because he is such an honorable, sound man his plans and ideas will work! And when they do, I hope all you nay-sayers are put in your place.

Because I don't know about you, but I am definitely ready for change. BIG change.

I'm Jealous of my Husband

So today I went to an art supply store to get Micah some new fancy pencils. (Yes fancy pencils exist and are important dammit!) The entire time I'm there, I'm first off, desperately trying to not buy the whole store, and secondly, quickly burning up with jealousy. Micah's degree gives him presents. YES PRESENTS. What the hell? All I got from my schooling experience was classmates pinching my fat with skin calipers day in and day out and the permanent smell of formaldehyde wafting from my clothes for an entire semester.

I loved my major, I did. And I cannot wait to be doing by dream job. But I still am jealous. Micah gets massive amounts of new art supplies every semester, and little gifties throughout. Then he goes to "class" where he gets to draw, paint, design, and PLAY! Ok...I know art is a tough field, but seriously, the major sounds like a complete blast.

On top of all that...I'm his sugar momma. I work 40 hours and cook 99% of what we eat, do the finances, and I could just go on and on and on. All he has to do is walk to school, scribble some doodles for a couple hours, and come home and clean up the apartment. Um...what the hell was I thinking when I was in school? I'm sure I could have strung some silly man along long enough for him to put me through school, right?

Jealous. One of these days I'm going to make him make it all up to me...

Sweden

Ok, so I'm officially obsessed with Sweden. I randomly spit out the thought of moving there over gmail chat to a friend and then the rest of the day I couldn't shake it. It was like I knew what I wanted before I knew I wanted it.

First I started with jobs, perused around to see what things were available. (Found this awesome game design job...um sounds like Micah's dream job. I think it's a sign.) Then I moved onto apartments. I've never seen such modern sexy 1 bedroom apartments before in my life. Then I moved onto houses. All I have to say is - shut the front door! There are these amazing cottage style homes with huge gardens and stunning views with 3 -4 bedrooms for under $100,000 USD. THEN I look at the climate there - and it's amazing. The winters hover around freezing (32 degrees) and the snow is beautiful then the summers hover around 75 degrees. I think Sweden is my heaven. Add all that up, then the fact that Sweden is all about energy conservation (a lot of the houses have solar panels lining the roof that provide all the electricity you need), they have strict laws on the care of farm animals, universal health care, a year long paid maternity AND paternity leave not to mention the home of IKEA!!!!!!!!!! Oh and so much more (Those of you reading this - no worries, this won't happen til Micah is done with school .) But...Ah! I don't care about the details all I know is...

I want to go to there.

Now.

And never ever leave!

I am a double standard

I am a proud rule breaker. I am a proud rule breaker of stupid rules. And yes, they definitely exist.

I think the fact that I-15 is 65 mph is ridiculous. I think all freeways that have more then 3 lanes should be at least 75 mph. So - that's how fast I drive. OK, I drive about 80, but that's what I would do if the speed limit was 75; it all makes perfect sense.

I think the fact that you can't walk on GRASS in certain areas of my alma mater is asinine. It's grass! Do people understand that grass is a WEED that we have immortalized into some sort of god that we worship by watering and trimming obsessively? Grass was made to be walked on and laid in. Whenever I see those signs I'm like the north pole of a magnet drawn to the south pole; I have no control. The cosmos force me. I crave to immediately stomp all over it, smother it, lay down and roll all over it. Kind of like the impulse I ALWAYS have when I'm in a elevator all by myself to push all the buttons upon my departure of the elevator. Why oh WHY is it so funny? Yes, I think I am still 7 years old. I also adore blowing bubbles and puppies and kittens and headbands. So sue me.

But there are rules I think aren't stupid like, drunk driving. Come on now, seriously? I think everyone should have Breathalyzers in their car that are required for engine turn over. However, they are not required and I'm sure the offenders of this rule feel the same way I do about the rules I like to break. Granted killing someone in a car wreck and deadening some grass are obviously quite different consequences, but still. It makes you think.

What about us crazy affection needing mammals makes us want to incessantly break rules? Why do I feel soooooo good defying that sign that says please stay off the grass? Is it because I feel like I am better than the person who decided these signs were a good idea and necessary? Is it because I feel like my opinions and knowledge matter more then theirs?

Yes. And to quote my new friend Lindsay "Life would be a lot easier if everyone would just think like me."

The Invisible Stall Mate

OK, I know this is my third post today. I wish I didn't have weird outbursts of thoughts timed perfectly with boring ruts at work, but I do - so deal with it. I just start writing and then everything that happens to me makes me think. This just happened a few hours ago when I went to take a tinkle.

Why do women (I can't say men cause I've never tinkled in a men's bathroom) pretend no one else is in the ladies room with them? First of all, it's old school to think women don't fart - or poop for that matter. Secondly, the acoustics in a bathroom are phenomenal, so the noises that are made in there are multiplied by 80 million in an effort to remind us that no one is perfect. I believe they were designed that way to humble us. No one's shit doesn't stink 100% of the time, so stop being all high and mighty. Thirdly, it makes it MORE awkward when you pretend no one is sitting right next to you listening to all the sound and fury, when they obviously are.

I have taken up a hobby of studying people's footwear/toes to see if I can identify my poop buddy whilst chilling on the toilet. Too bad I started a new position and moved buildings and had to start all over - I was getting pretty good. Because the best thing to break the awkwardness (for me) is to actually talk to whoever is in there! *GASP* But it seems like if it's someone you don't know well, they get embarrassed and shuffle out real quick. So like usual, I have to try to think before I blurt something out that could embarrass someone else. Remember Jen, just because you don't get embarrassed and think that awkward situations are funny, 95% of the world does not, and so forcing my weirdness on them is not fair. Like today, I went to tinkle and my stall buddy sneezed. It took everything in me to not say "Bless You!" cause what if we came out at the same time and she was all embarrassed because I recognized she was next to me tinkling too.

I am very curious as to why this phenomenon began and why it hasn't been remedied since the book "Everyone Poops" was published. I thought that pretty much took care of everything right there.

I <3 This Picture

Words cannot describe how much I love this picture. I mean, a tiny fluffy kitten hugging Jesus? How could the adorable awesomeness get any better?

New Age Hippie

That is what I have decided to title myself as - a "new age hippie". Not that I particularly want to be or like being generalized into ANY kind of category, but I feel like that is the best way to describe myself and lifestyle in as few words as possible. Recently at work, I have taken the time I am not busy to explore ways to be more green, healthy, and consequently more liberal. (My grandfather, father of 7, college professor, faithful church goer and lover of all goodness - who also calls horse poo shit and is married to a woman who doesn't like the word "darn" - just recently proclaimed that God is a liberal and it makes me feel much better about life. I also discovered that my grandparents, whom I always figured were super conservative, have voted democrat their whole lives and don't like people that don't like/voted for Obama. My grandparents rock.)

So, I already am vegan, plan on using cloth diapers and making my own baby food, having non-medicated births, maybe even home births, am pro-gay rights and marriage, and I use Tupperware over plastic baggies and screw in my little High Efficient light bulbs. I also like to yell at my husband when he lets the shower run for 10 minutes before he gets in it. OK, so some of that makes me a little hippie-ish, right?


Well now I am onto a whole new level of craziness. I started looking at how much paper we waste on napkins, paper towels, toilet paper etc., and these are not JUST tree hating products, but the resources and pollution that go into packaging these products makes me a little ill. So, here is my resolution: switch to all cloth. You heard me cloth. Cloth napkins, cloth towels, cloth TOILET PAPER! So probably right now most of you have just made a silent oath to never come over to my house ever in my existence - however, I will keep some "guest rolls" of the regular stuff tucked away for such occasions. Please don't let me scare you away.


Side note: I am not the type of person to force my lifestyle and beliefs on anyone else. I do however hope to make people re-think some of their beliefs, re-evaluate, and maybe make some changes for the better. Hence the "new-age" in my self proclaimed title; I'm not going to sit on your porch with daisies in my hair singing Kum-bi-yah waiting for you to switch to cloth toilet paper and squeeze your babies out in your backyard.

However I have come into a small dilemma because to fulfill my dream of cloth toilet paper I also want to install a bidet. I have always loved the idea of really getting clean with a bidet, plus it would make the whole process much more clean and less smelly. My dilemma is a) we live in a tiny apartment with two cats and we can't attach any kind of permanent fixtures and b) we only have like, 3 rolls of paper left and I don't have a sewing machine to make little square cloth toilet wipes. This gives me very little time to make the change. So what does a girl do?! Do I wait for another 6 months until we are out of this shoebox apartment whilst every day agonizing over the waste I am creating as I wipe my bum? Well regardless I'm sure I'll figure it all out - and definitely make sure to include you all in this fantastic new adventure!

Fortune Cookies

It has been a while since I got a real "good" fortune cookie. The definition of a fortune is (thank to m-w.com): a hypothetical force or personified power that unpredictably determines events and issues favorably or unfavorably.

• Your friends are near by when you need them. - duh, that's why they're my friends
• You are wearing a hat. - um, that is not a fortune.
• Tomorrow, take a moment to do something just for yourself. - That is a good goal, but no, not a fortune.
• Take it easy.

Seriously?

BUT - I got two great ones in a row at our favorite Chinese restaurant that has delicious vegan food.

#1 - Your luck is about to change. Whammo. That's awesome
#2 - Luck is the by-product of busting your fanny. Ok, I will admit, this is more like parental advice, or more like advice from your really cool uncle, but I thought the fact that I got these two in a row really meant something. My luck is about to change, but to have that happen, BUST YOUR FANNY!

So this spurred a quick conversation with me, our waiter Brandon (who totally has a thing for me, Micah and I both agree), and Micah about us writing very specific saucy/scary fortunes. See my examples:

• You will contract an illness of major significance in the next 6 weeks.
• You will meet a drag queen named Peachy Cream sometime in the next year. Do whatever she tells you to.
• On September 17, 2015 you will find $200,000 dollars lying in the streets.
• Next time you go shopping, buy a purple polka-dotted item that costs $10-20. It will always bring you good luck.
• The next dark haired blue eyed man/woman that winks at you is your future spouse.

Now those would be awesome!