London Was Calling...

Until Ethan picked up the phone.

We're in my living room and he tells me that after he's done in Korea he's going to PCS to London. London, people!!

I get ecstatic, put my biggest OMG-I-can't-believe-this-is-really-happening smile on and say, "Can I go with you?". To which he replies, "Yeah, as long as you have your passport".

I give him the biggest squeeze I can (I'm kinda weak because I haven't been to the gym in months) and I can't stop beaming. That was two weeks ago.

Fast forward to last night when I tell him that I told Mom and Dad that I'm going to London with him. He gives me the confused face and is all, "I thought you were going to Atlanta?"

Me: I am.

Ethan: So, why are you moving to London?

Me: Because you're there and you said I could.

Ethan: But I thought Atlanta was permanent?

Me: No.

Ethan: So, why move all your stuff if it's not permanent?

Me: Where the hell else am I supposed to put it if I don't bring it with?

Ethan: But what about when I visit? I wanna come visit just you in Atlanta. I be hittin' on all your bad friends. Your friends are always fine! And you won't help but have black friends in Atlanta. I'm trying to come and get some of that.

This is where I relent. We are talking about the man that I'm hoping will gift my children their college educations or fun-filled family vacations or something else crazy that I want them to have and may not be able to afford.

I went into how it's my dream to live in Spain and London's just a temporary stop. How I've always wanted to live in Europe but was afraid to go alone. How great it would be if my big little brother - who would be getting free housing - would let me stay there for awhile. Not forever, just until I found a job and could get my own flat.

After all that, you know what he said? "Just as long as I don't hear you f*cking some dude. Walls are thin."

The Birds and The Bees and Sowing the Seeds... of Education

Ethan is over a foot taller than Mom. That's why whenever she disciplines him I giggle myself into hysterics.

Sunday, he said over and over again that he's never getting married and doesn't want kids. I told him that's fine with me as he'll have four neices and nephews to play with and teach things to. He said, "Four? That sounds expensive". I concur completely and that's why he needs to hurry up and get his degree so that he can get rank.

Right now, he's an E4. With a degree he could progress to an O2 with just the application. But he'll never achieve great heights (or be considered for a commission) without his degree. Ethan has no excuse. The military offers classes free of charge to them. All you have to do is pass.

I said that if I could work two jobs to put myself through school, he could do it for free. But he fought me on it and that's when Mom stepped in.

She made him stand in the garage because its two steps down and she could face him. (I stood behind her pointing and mocking his displeasure). But she lectured him on the mecessity of continuing education and told him how she doesn't want him to come out and flip burgers at 40.

He looked like she just killed his rabbit.

Anyways, the point of this post is to tell you that I'm really pushing my brother for selfish reasons. I intend to have four healthy children that will need clothes, shoes, food, shelter, and college educations. This would go much more smoothly if they had a regularly commissioned and therefore, seemingly wealthy uncle.

And that uncle will be Ethan.

It's not for me. It's for the children.

A Day With My Brother *UPDATED w/ Pics*

Ethan and our little cousin Noodle

Jason, Cam, Ethan, Theo, & Daddy

Sunday is family dinner day and it's always at Mom's house. This Sunday was extra special because I brought Ethan with me. One word: awesome.


A lot went on and I could spell it all out for you but I'm tired and so, you will get a bullet list. You're welcome.

• Arrival and introductions. Hugs all around. He is shy.
• Tour of the house. He is in awe of all the stuff that April and Rebecca have.
• He is in awe that April and Rebecca don't have to keep their rooms immaculately clean.
• He is given a task; learns how we earn our keep at Mom's house.
• Mom has to explain that she's joking and he can eat regardless.
• I show him pictures and notice that he is sad.
• We do a project together and he's nervous because he's never built anything before.
• We finish half of project before dinner.
• He eats at table with most of family. I eat downstairs so I can watch UFC fight.
• He never comes downstairs.
• I go up and find him talking 100 miles an hour to Mom.
• I stay for a few minutes and then go back downstairs.
• I go up for dessert and he's still talking to Mom.
• Mom comes downstairs, Ethan follows.
• I watch Platinum Weddings and get excited.
• He mocks my excitement and hand gestures.
• Pillow fight started by me.
• Pillow fight ended by his superior strength and possession of all pillows.
• I advise of appropriate wedding attire and his role in my wedding.
• He threatens to "crap on stage" or get "the BGs" aka "Bubble Gut" if forced to be an attendant.
• I pout.
• He does not concede.
• I threaten and demand.
• He does not concede.
• I punch him in the gut.
• I win.
• I use the word bedazzle.
• Ethan mocks me and makes the bedazzling motion for 2 minutes elaborating on all the colors he's going to add to my dress.
• He takes Mom's side and agrees that I should have reception in back yard.
• Then he takes my side after Mom leaves the room.
• He jokes that he will raise his hand when they ask if anyone protests the marriage.
• I turn several shades of purple.
• He's just kidding.
• He says he won't dance with me.
• I tell him I'll kill him if he doesn't get on board.
• He changes subject to kids.
• I tell him my baby names.
• He mocks my boy name.
• I give threatening look.
• He lets it go.
• We go and find Mom.
• Take our first pictures together since he's been here.
• He almost drags me down.
• I whine because it looks like I have 3 chins.
• Ethan and I leave so Mom can get sleep.
• We watch two movies together that I've never seen so I can "step [my] game up"
• I find that I actually enjoy "Stomp the Yard"
• He is proud that he could teach me something.
• He turns on his iPod.
• I laugh hysterically because R Kelly declares that he "wants to toss your salad!"
• We sing loudly and off key.
• Birds chirp so I take him to his aunts house.
• He tells me to date more black men because my body is built for them.
• I hug him and try not to cry.
• He tells me that he loves me too.

Who the Hell ARE You?

I'm sure you know this about me already but I have a rather raunchy sense of humor. I learned how to crochet a vagina and gave it to a cousin as a gift with the tagline "This is as close to pussy as you'll ever get!".

BAAAAHAHAHAHHAAAHAHAA!!!!! (That still cracks me up!)

But at the same time, I will laugh at almost anything. Doesn't even need to be appropriate. The jokes don't need to be elaborate or even well set up. I just think everything is funny. This is why I like Chuck Norris jokes.

Correction.

I fucking LOVE Chuck Norris jokes.

I peruse the internet looking for them and when I find a side buster I share it with everyone. Some people twice.

My brother and I are so alike in so many ways that I thought that he too would have a similar sense of humor. Or at the very least he would like Chuck Norris jokes.

He does not.

Ethan, my hero, my big little brother, does not like Chuck Norris jokes. (Did you hear my heart breaking? Because it did. I died a little inside.)

Please believe that I tried and tried and tried.

I told him that Chuck Norris was why Waldo was hiding. That Chuck Norris doesn't use a condom because his sperm destroys fertile eggs. I told him that Chuck Norris has already been to Mars; that's why there's no life there.

He just looked at me with one raised eyebrow.

Maybe it was the way I started? What I said was, "Did you know that Chuck Norris didn't lose his virginity. He told it to get the fuck out!". And then I doubled over laughing.

I don't know what's wrong with him. These jokes are hiiiiiiiiiilarious.

But still, I'll leave you with some of my favorites:

Chuck Norris once at a whole cake before his friends could tell him there was a stripper in it.

Julius Caesar once said, "Vini, Vidi, Vici". Translation, "I came. I saw. I got roundhouse kicked in the face."

Chuck Norris was born in a log cabin that he built with his bare hands.

Crop circles are Chuck Norris' way of telling the world that sometimes corn needs to lie the fuck down.

And for extra flavor: Chuck Norris is Helen Keller's favorite color. <--- (Go ahead and laugh. We both know its funny).

Jesus Must Love Me Because I'm Not Hungover

Last night was not just rough it was rizzuff.

But it didn't start out that way. It started out going really well. And then, at the place where I stopped being in control and let others take the lead, it all fell apart. That's all I take responsibility for: letting others control a portion of the situation.

Yesterday was Ethan's last Saturday in Ohio and I have been promising to take him to the club for weeks. Maybe even months. But he's been talking about it for weeks.

I was supposed to go pick him up at 9:15p. But he wasn't ready and his aunt offered to drop him off at the club we were going to.

I was supposed to be the DD and get us all to and fro but Natalie offered to drive. Now, I don't know if you read this post but I obviously did not have the money to buy drinks. So, I was pre-gaming up a storm.

Natalie showed up at my apartment at 11:30. Ethan had been waiting for us for over an hour. And all she had to say was, "Well, if you didn't want to wait then you could have left without me". It took everything in me not to hit her, if only because she tried to whisper it thinking I wouldn't catch her backhanded remark.

But that's how she is. When she doesn't really want to do something but doesn't want to be accused of not participating, then she does everything she can to sabotage it. Like taking back roads to get to your house; turning a 15 minute drive into a 30 minute journey. Or saying she needs to go to an ATM first. Or that she hasn't eaten and is going to get food before she gets there. Or by offering to be the DD for everyone, including people who drove to my house, therefore packing the car but not even cleaning it out so that we could all fit. Or claiming that she can't read my hand-written directions. Or waiting until we are lost to pull out her GPS.

I should have known better than to trust her. I should have not taken even the tiniest drink because then I could have been on the road to my brother and perhaps saved the evening. I should have reminded myself that the reason she and I don't live together anymore is because I couldn't depend on her to give me simple things, like rent.

But, of course, this isn't her fault. I should have left without her. My directions were bad. And I knew she didn't get off work until 10p.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight...

Let me tell you what I did know, I knew that Ethan asked her personally on Friday to come and she said yes. So she knew that she would need clothes, food, and money when she got of work but she didn't have it.

And I know this too. I'm not apologizing for the things I said to her because I'm not sorry.

She says she's tired of putting up with my attitude and writing it off as me just being myself but I'm tired of being chastised for having expectations of her.

Last night was ridiculous.

Last night was bullshit.

Last night was completely embarrassing for me.

Last night I accepted that I'd be better off without Nat in my life.

Drunk.

But ser4iously cravijng
Taco
Bell.

My Brother, My Hero

When I woke up this morning, I reached out for my alarm clock and saw money.


That couldn't have been right, so I rolled back over, closed my eyes and started again.


When I opened my eyes, I saw money.

I closed them very tightly. Rubbed them a couple of times. Refocused and this time I didn't see money. I saw MONEY. A stack of twenties.

I bolted upright and looked around. It was my room. I was still dressed. My night clothes were all intact. So where in the hell did this money come from? Is there a money fairy? Because I've been praying to her for a long time and I'm not complaining 'cause the chick picked a great day to show up.

Reaching out, I grasped the money in my hands and began counting.

One, two, three, four, five,... twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

One, two, three, four, five,... twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.

Six Hundred Dollars.

SIX HUUUUUNDRED DOLLARS!

My heart leapt. I smiled. I frowned.

I can only think of one person who knew that I needed six-hundred dollars AND had the means to come up with it within twelve hours AND would be willing to give it to me.

Ethan.

I was holding his ticket to North Carolina in my hands.

I went to him, crying softly, and poked him to wake him up.

Ethan: *grumble, mumble, mumble*

Me: Wake up.

Ethan: What? No.

Me: Did you give me money?

Ethan: No.

Me: Did you give me six hundred dollars?

Ethan: Sounds like Christmas came early for you.

Me: Why?

Ethan: You said you needed it.

Me: No, I told you about my day. Take your money back. I can't take it.

Ethan: I got you. You were crying and you need it. Just take it.

Me: *shakily* I can't pay you back.

Ethan: I didn't ask you to. Just do me a favor?

Me: What?

Ethan: Next time you need something... just ask me. And if I've got it, you'll get it.

That was when I broke down into tears, wrapped my arms around my brother's neck and just cried.

The Funny Bone or My Father's Acceptance That I'm a Big Girl Now

My dad has accepted that I am all grown up and it happened in a Chipotle.

We weren't doing anything special. We weren't even having a conversation. We were sitting at the bar in the window, him noshing a burrito and me drifting in and out of twilight, when he leaned over and said, "You'll have to find a comedy club in Atlanta so we can go there when I visit".

I wasn't moved to tears, but I did sit up. The vocal acknowledgement that he was finally behind me was great to say the least. I needed him on my side, if only so I don't feel like I'm making this journey completely alone.

We didn't talk about it after that. Actually, he changed the subject and started talking to Ethan, Cam, Theo, and Jason. But that's ok. I'm slowly figuring my dad out.

And for right now, this is enough.

Simple Pleasures

I started off this day a complete wreck. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. From the snow on my car to the lost iron to the hour in traffic to the scratched up car door, I had an all-around, terrible, horrible, no good, very bad morning.

But I came to my blog and I read Cup of Jo and today she's all about simple pleasures. Seeing those wonderful pictures gave me the soothing touch I needed. And so, here are my simple pleasures.

Reading by a window, snuggling under blankets, and playing with the pups.

What are yours?

Friday Foodie

Hello Beautiful Bloggies!!

I have a special treat for you today. I'm sure you know how much I love food, especially snacky food. That's why I feel a need to share another fantastic, low-calorie snack with you.

Have you ever had a ridiculous craving that was almost impossible to satiate? Do you find yourself wanting sweet, salty, crunchy and chewy all in one? Have you ever been on the brink of setting fire to your kitchen because it couldn't meet your need? Ok. Well maybe that last one is just me.

But if you answered yes to any of these questions, then I have the perfect snack for you.

It's the Special K Cholcolatey Pretzel Bar.

Yes, it tastes as good as it looks.

Yes, it has the perfect balance of crisp and salty pretzels to chewy granola and semi-sweet chocolate.

Yes, it's only 90 calories!

Yes, I bought two boxes and put a security system around them. I won't share.

Trust me, peeps. I know what I'm talking about here. Even if you can't get down with the comedic stylings of Allie at Hyperbole and a Half, I'm sure we can come to an agreement on this fantastic little snack.

My Brother the Alarm Clock

Follow this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=znKdI9VJCao

It is an approximation of Ethan's outlook on life. He is, in essence, so hood. He didn't go into the military because of his love for country. And it definitely wasn't in support of the war. He went in because he was terrible at school and refused to live at home anymore.

Welcome to the Army.

I always thought that maybe, just maybe, it would change him. Do the things my father didn't do, like teach him how to be a man. I was not wrong.

Last night, I was exhausted. Work took a lot from me and then there was the drive across town to pick him and Cam up. Cleaning happened. (Especially in their bathroom, I can't explain what some of that stuff looked like but it had to go).

Oddly enough, I am a night owl. I could stay awake for days if properly stimulated. But last night, I dozed off in the living room. Ethan told me to go to bed. Twice. I dragged myself to my room and he asked if I already had my alarm set. I told him its on my phone and he could just come get me when it went off. That was my first mistake.

Thursday, March 25
5:30 am: *POUND, POUND, POUND*
Ethan: J-Bird! Get Up! It's 5:30 and your alarm is going off.

Me (to my ears): Ok, gruuuummmmblllee mummblee, get out my room.
Me (to Ethan's ears): Ok, I'll get up in half an hour.

6:14am: *POUND, POUND, POUND* creeeeeaaaaakkkkyyyyy swing. CRASH!!
Ethan: Jenifer! Get Up! It's 6:14.
Me(shooting straight up): What!! What is it! Is something wrong?
Ethan: Only that you said you'd be up in half an hour and it's been forty-five minutes. I'm just saying.

He's lucky that he's 6'4", 250 pounds and around 2% body fat. Otherwise, a fight would've broken out this morning around 6:16. I'm just saying.

Thankful Thursday

Alright Peeps! It's time to be Thankful on this magnificent day!!

Firstly, I'm thankful that my vacation is over. Getting back to work never felt so good.

And then...

• my new shirts from Buckle.


• my shiatsu massager -- OMG, it is that good.


• and, all of you for allowing me to exercise both, my inner gossip and my inner voyeur.

Sharing vs. Gloating: Where's the Line?

Over the past few years that I've been reconnecting with my father, I never truly opened up to him. I talked to him about inane things like work, boys, Mom, but never anything that matters. And so on his visit here last week, I took the opportunity that fate had provided me. I showed him everything. *

*Except for my cheerleading video and the 6th grade school picture. Those have been mysteriously misplaced.

It wasn't something that I wanted to do; it's something Mom wanted to do. (Dad and I were bored to tears one day and it turns out Mom was off work and I did what I always do... go to her house).

The three of us are sitting in her basement and then she just bolts up and away up the stairs. When she came back with three humongous photo albums and a box of miscellaneous items, I knew I was in trouble. She laid the first book on his lap and that's when the memories started pouring out.

It was weird having to tell my dad about my life.

I felt like he was supposed to know that my cheer squad went to Nationals, that I was such a bad volleyball player that I was the only Junior on the JV team, and that soccer was more of a chore than a hobby. I couldn't help myself from grabbing the 24" x 36" portrait of my Senior photo. That picture is my pride and joy. It's the prettiest I've ever felt and I wanted him to see me that way.

I couldn't stop rambling about my debate and speech trophies. Or showing him the trips I went on with the OFEA (Ohio Future Educators of America) and the Recycling Club (I'm such a dork!). Or how I was an editor of "The Matrix" a.k.a. The Coolest High School Literary Magazine This Side of the Mississippi, Sucka!

It wasn't until we got to the bottom of the box of trophies that I realized that he hadn't made a sound. Not one.

He didn't ask one question.

He didn't comment on one picture.

And even though Mom didn't say anything either, I knew she had picked up on it, too.

I was disheartened to say the least. I wanted him to be proud of me. I wanted him to fawn over my accomplishments. I wanted him to look into the face of a Salutatorian who was granted a Presidential Scholarship and tell her that he was proud. I wanted him to at least pretend like he gave a damn.

The realization that his approval was not forthcoming hurt me to the core.
I didn't do these things for him, I did them for me. But what would it hurt for him to notice, right?

This is where I have trouble drawing the line. Because even though I knew I wasn't getting a reaction from him, I didn't stop. I kept telling him about my adventures to other countries and my dreams for bigger places. The verbal diarrhea was overwhelming but I didn't care.

It stopped being about sharing my past with him and started being about every father-daughter dance, every boy who broke my heart, every argument I had with Mom, every game he didn't attend, every phone call he didn't make, and the day I finally called him. I had turned it into a contrived effort to force him in to wanting to stick around for my future. Even when I could see the sadness in his face I didn't stop. I didn't stop because I didn't care.

I love my dad. I really do. But there are some deep-seated issues that need to be resolved and until they are, I'm not sure I'll ever give a damn about how he feels because for so many years, he didn't give a damn about me.

I'm Baaaaacckkkkk!

I've got lots of posts coming to you every day. Most of them are scheduled in advance so that I can actually do something productive here at work.

So, check in regularly.

What am I saying?

I'm sure you already do. :)

Delays

I know I haven't posted in days and I apologize.

But I have been using this time to spend with my brother while he's in town. It's weird to realize that you have to "re-discover" who people are when they've been gone for two years.

Also, I went back to work today.

And I'm dog tired.

But there are tens of posts coming your way. I'll probably schedule them out in advance.

So stayed tuned, Bloggies. Some of these are too good to miss!

Because I'm in the Mood

I've never had a "Best Friend".

Wait. That's a lie.

I haven't had a best friend since 1989. Her name was Melanie and she lived next door. I thought we were going to be best friends forever. I was six. What did I know?

I knew that she was the only person I could tell all my secrets to. I knew that she was better than a sister because I was never bored with her. I knew that we were going to be friends forever.

And I was soooo wrong. Just about the third part though. Because the rest of it is still true to this day. But when my family moved away from Panama, I thought that Melanie was coming too. I was wrong again. And it hurt so badly that I promised myself that I would never have another best friend.

I was right that time. It totally made sense for me to not let anyone else in because after the 3 years in California my family moved every year. Every year!!

Can you imagine if I'd spread my secrets all over the globe like that?!? Ay Carumba!

Most people think that I'm cold. Some call me elitest. Others go straight for the heart and say that I'm prejudiced. And I'm not going to say that any of them are wrong. But they left out the part about being changed.

I never knew, or rather had forgotten, what it would be like to have a best friend. That person that you tell your secrets to. The one that accepts you for 100% of yourself. Someone who forgives you your trespasses even if you dont know you trespassed. The friend whose house you can walk into and have a meal or raid the fridge. The first person you call when things are going bad AND when they're good.

I forgot that until today at 5pm on the dot. That's when Mrs. G called me. She called because when everything about this week became too much and went to hell I told her. And she called at the first opportunity.

It occured to me after I hung up the phone that she weaseled her way into my measly little heart. Mrs. G, I just wish you'd told me that you were a ninja. We could've used your skills for profit. =)

As I strolled through the mall with my fresh-from-the-oven peacn Cinnabon and on my BFF high, I passed Panera Bread and said to myself "this would be way better than Taco Bell".

I stroll in and break away from my normal meal of pick two-ness and decide on a cafe sandwich. I just want the turkey one without mustard. She takes my order, she picked the wrong bread. We fix that and I pay. The kid on the assembly line says, "How do you make a Sierra Turkey without mustard".

Got damn that prick!!

Prick: How do you make a Sierra Turkey without mustard? *teenage boy snicker*

Me: I don't like mustard. Don't put mustard on it.

Prick: How am I supposed to do that? heh. heh.

Me: Just don't. It's a fresh-made sandwich. How hard can it be?

Nice Girl at Register: I would think it'd be easier with fewer ingredients.

Nice boy beginning my sandwich: Dude, just stop.

Prick: Well then what are we supposed to put on it.

NB: Do you want mayo still? And lettuce?

Me: Yes, please. Whatever comes on it just not mustard.

Prick: Where'd you even get mustard?

Me (ready to punch his mustachioed face): It says it comes with mayo, mustard, lettuce, tomato, onion, salt and pepper. I don't want mustard.

NB: I can add tomato if you'd like.

Me: That's fine.

Prick: Only the ham and swiss and the country turkey come with that stuff. You got the Sierra Turkey.

Me: IS MY DISDAIN FOR MUSTARD GOING TO BE A PROBLEM!!!!!! BECAUSE I AM MORE THAN WILLING TO TELL YOUR MANAGER HOW MY CONDIMENT PREFERENCE IS AN ISSUE FOR YOU.

Prick: *heavy teenage boy sigh* I'm just saying you were wrong.

Greg (the only person in a Panera shirt over 21 and therefore the likely Shift Manager): Hello Ma'am. Is everything alright with your sandwich.

Me: Yes. Nice Boy made my sandwich perfectly. But Prick... he has a thing about mustard.

Yup. It happened just like that.

The Battle of the Smells

I am out of candles.

This is an important revelation because I sell candles to make extra money and I am out of candles.

I am out of candles because I am fighting a war, ladies. I'm sure you're all familiar with this battle. It is the Battle of Man Smells.

Everything for men is just so effing strong!

Body wash, body lotion, after shave, cologne. All of it is just so strong.

When I wash, I wash with a skin-softening, yogurt and honey blend that gives my skin a slight shimmer and a light perfume. Then I spritz on a nice perfume and voila! I am delicately fragranced for my day.

Not so with man smells. And my poor little apartment is as overpowering as a Yankee Candle. I've been burning day and night, home and away, fruity and musky fragrances and I'm still losing.

I wouldn't complain if it was something awesome that I had to inhale all day like any of the Axe fragrances but it's not. Instead, I'm getting Vaseline for Men and Suave and some other store brands. Ick!

My nasal passages are in revolt!

So, today while Dad and Cam are visiting D's dad, I'm going to scrub the guest bath because, at this point, I'd rather smell Comet and Clorox than whatever it is that they are washing with.

Thankful Thursday

Today is Thursday and I desperately need to tell you all of the things that I am thankful for:

• having a dad and brothers. The run-in with the trainer was slightly embarrassing, a bit comical and very reassuring.
• spinach -- because we've been eating out all week and you know what happens to your digestive tract when you make that mistake.
• family fun time. Including board games, ice skating sessions, and window shopping at the mall.
• my parents relationship with me and each other.
• Noodle's diagnosis. It's pnuemonia but we caught it early and she'll be ok.
• my brother, Ethan. He always makes me feel like I'm number one to him. And my ego really needs that reassurance.
• passports. I'm really excited that I might get to use mine soon.
• my parents understanding.
• the awesome family photos we've taken these last few days.
• having my dad's ears, my mom's temperment and my own sense of adventure.
• the good night's sleep I got last night. It was very much needed.
• the smell of sausage and pancakes coming from the kitchen. This is going to be a good day. =)
  

Handymen

I want one that looks just like this

I have lived with men before. Boyfriends, step-dads, brothers but its honestly been about 5 years. So needless to say, I've forgotten some things like the meaning of the phrase "I'm going to bed".

Last night, I was dog tired. I fell asleep on the couch watching television. When they woke me and demanded that I go to bed I said, "In a minute" because everywhere I looked something needed to be picked up. Cups, snack bowls, laptops, shoes, coats, the whole nine. They assured me that they'd do it. That I could go to sleep knowing that it would be done and to just relax a bit.

When I woke up there were cups, snack bowls, laptops, and shoes all over my living room. But they had turned out the lights. So, that's a win for me, right? If not, I'm going to take it as one because life is too short. And I'd bet money that they were patting each other on the back for a job well done.

Also, I have t.v. in my living room now! Holla!! This is another bonus to having guys in the house. I gave them the DTV kit and in about 10 minutes I was watching all my fav shows on my big ass screen.

The Rotator

When you say 'rotator', most people think of that muscle in the back/shoulder area: the rotator cuff. But when you say rotator to someone in the military, they get a knowing and slightly horrified look on their face. Everyone of them at some point has been on a rotator.

For those that don't know, a rotator is a military flight that transports troops from one destination to another. And they are bitches to be on. Rotators are horribly uncomfortable, probably don't have seatbelts and leave at the most inconvenient times. Like this Friday.

Ethan's been told that they will not pay for him to take a commercial flight and that if he wants to be on one he will have to pay for it himself. Now, please don't fool yourself into believing that there are special military discounts on commercial airlines. The most you will get is an upgrade.

Back to Ethan, he was supposed to be on the 3/6 rotator but you know how that went and then they told him he would leave today but on Japanese time (so our yesterday). However, that didn't happen so they are putting him on the next rotator, which leaves Friday... and won't get here until Saturday morning.

Ethan's so upset. So much so that if given the opportunity he'd take his frustrations out on an ex-boyfriend of mine... or three.

He's frustrated because the whole family is gathered in Ohio just to see him and he's the only one not here. We'll have to squeeze an entire week's worth of family fun time into two days. Everyone's going home on Sunday or Monday except for me but that's because I live here. I do have to go back to work though. And he'll be sitting in my apartment with no cable, no internet, and no vehicle until the end of the month.

That boy is a true soldier.

Double Penetration

This is my first drunk post. And I need to be drunk because the alternative is to be livid. Maybe I can still be slightly entertaining when I'm drunk.

Here's how it all went down:

Cam was on my nerves. Disability or no (and yes, he has one) he was restless and worst, he was rude. The 'rents - and the rest of the family for that matter - have been using his disability as an excuse for a long time. And I'm sick of it because even if he is progressing later than others he is at a point in his development that he knows right from wrong and knows how to be polite.

Anyways, I was walking through the mall completely flanked with 6 foot plus men ('cause that's how I roll) and I get my shoulder grabbed. Everybody stops doing what they're doling and my name comes out of his lips -- the trainer's lips. Yes, it was an ex boyfriend. And he was there looking so good and buff and attached to some other chick. Do I want him back? No. Would I have sex with him in front of her? Heeeelllllllllllllllllsssssssssss yeah!

Me: Trainer, this is my dad. Dad, this is Trainer.

Trainer: Nice to meet you, Sir.

Dad: Trainer, huh?

*pause*

*pause*

*pause*

Trainer: Uh, I guess you've heard about me? You're looking like you've heard about me.

Dad: *death stare with pulled back fist*

Me: Good things! All good things, I swear. Right, dad?

Then Trainer hands me a business card, gives me a very dirty (I still feel violated) once over, and tells me that he'll call me. In front of her and my dad and my brothers and even my cousin. And I stare and think about all the dirty things we used to do and that I'd be game for right now if my dad wasn't sitting next to me on the couch. Sigh.

Then, there was the phone call from hell that really was the voicemail from hell because he called while I was keeping dad from punching Trainer.

Yes, it was another ex. And yes. It was the African.

I put it like that becuase you may or may not know him as the man who 1.Told me that I was not marriage material. 2. Told me that I would learn to obey him. and 3. Is the only man, to this day, to put his hands on me violently.

He called and worse, he left a message. And then he called again and I picked up. I'm such a fucking idiot. He wants me to have dinner with him. I'm floored. Because aft3er all that we went through I still can't tell him to go fucking jump off a bridge. What I did say was, "I can't. I don't eat". I'm sure he's not believing that right now.

Now, it's important that you know that Dad and Ethan are the ones who packed my belongings when I was ready to leave. And had he shown his face when they were looking, he probably would've died in the mall tonight.

So, I'm sitting here trying not to close my eyes because I'm afraid to relive this day.

Instead, I'm putting vodka in my bloodstream and Chex Mix in my belly.

Pray for me y'all. This midwestern girl really needs it.

The Woman She Cant Bee

D called me. She asked for a favor. You see, I don't owe her any favors. None. My dad married her and not my mom. But to put it in her own words, "Anything that belongs to your dad belongs to me too. And you belong to him so...". I didn't bother to tell her that I'm a grown woman that belongs to no one. I figured all of that was beside the point because this bitch MUST be crazy.

She wants... *deep breath*

She wants me to take my brothers, her siblings and their children to go see her father. You know that man she met just three months ago. I just don't understand it. This is something that she really really wants (according to her) but she can't get the rest of them to understand it and to want the same thing. So she's asking me to plead her case and maybe... when we're out... just detour to his side of town and stop by... you know, ambush the whole god damned family.

But the thing is, he's not my family and I dont consider her my family and I dont give a shit if none of them ever see the poor piece of shit bastard. Because the really fucked up part is that even though D is 46 years old and is just meeting this old coot, he lives 8 minutes from the house she grew up in, literally. At least my dad was out fighting wars and being dragged around the globe, ya know?

I know Ethan's not going. He'll probably set me on fire just for bringing it up. *more sighing*

And it's not over. D wants me to go to Lawton, OK to visit her. Because she never had any daughters and would love to do all that girl stuff she missed out on like getting our hair and nails done, mall walking, we might even go to Dallas! *feign excitement*

I don't want to hang out with D. I don't want to know D. I have a mom. She hasn't always been the greatest but she's mine. I just don't understand how I became the official liason for that family. They all have my phone number now and are expecting me at "family gatherings". They want me to call when Ethan gets here because they know he wont make the effort. They want me to come around more often. They want me to replace D as their only connection to dad, Ethan, and Cam. And all I wanna do is live life the way I did before - without them.

Alright peeps! That's all I've got in me today. I'm kinda tired and I lost a container of blackberries. It's driving me nucking futs. But I will be back on here soon and when I do come back I'm going to tell you about the official Atlanta convo with my parents and how they double teamed me and have decided that my foot is not down but just hovering slightly.

OMG. LOL. ICK. IDK. WTF. WOW. and HOW

Hello Bloggies!

I know I didn't post for you over the weekend and that's because this weekend has been filled with family and with my family you know that will bring TONS of WTF stories.

I'll start from the beginning. I could start from the end but that would involve telling you that the last thing I heard my brother say was "You need to get internet access". And that's just not funny enough to start with. So Friday, my dad showed up with just 30 minutes left in the work week. It was the.best.surprise.ever. period. It was really great and even though I've told everyone that my dad is a 6 foot 4 black man, they were all surprised to actually see a 6 foot 4 black man. My boss even made a joke about being careful of the fork lift drivers because they like to pimp lean when they drive. ehhhh... He just proved himself to be the tool I've been declaring him to be. Bravo Boss, bravo.

Found out that Ethan will be here on Wednesday which is still cause for celebration. I don't want to say that those damned Jap cops waited until he bought his plane ticket to file the police report from the car accident in the fall. But that is what happened and I've already said it.

Anyhow, Saturday started with a big pancake breakfast at Scrambler Marie's. For my dad. All I had was eggs and toast. He had pancakes, a country skillet, toast, juice and heartburn. Hahahahha!!! And I laugh only because I said "Are you sure you're going to eat all that?" and he assured me that he would. He didn't and therefore had to buy breakfast. One for J-Bird. We had some time to kill before seeing more family and that meant... Mall Time, Bitches!! Yes, I dragged him to Easton so that I could try on jeans. (Very Important Side Note: I now wear a 34. Holla!!)

After he refused to buy me new jeans or shoes, I bought myself these shoes. Are you jealous? Good because they are fucking fab-u-lous!

We then went to Aunt Freddie's house. She doesn't like me. It's not a secret. I don't care because she's not my family. Unless you ask Daddy. Because everything changed when she saw him behind me. Apparently, they wish he would remarry my ex-stepmom, D. There seems to be a general feeling that they care for my dad more than they care for her. It's funny and sad all at the same time.

But that's when daddy took me to a KMart. On. The. East Side. The East Side! Where guns are ubiquitous and teeth are gold plated. I wanted to cry but I was too afraid to show fear. Instead I bought a hair conditioner and body lotion and got ma'amed by the punk at the register.

All that was just filler so that I could tell you about today. You see, today was the day that my mother now refers to as "Mom's Lovers Reunion". I told dad to go without me to see D's family. I've never met them and don't feel a need to have them around. But he wouldn't listen. Instead he said he wanted to do what I was doing. And what I was doing was mundane. I was just going to buy groceries with my mom and Nat like we always do. (And mom totally fought me on this job thing but you can see the difference in her already. The freedom that comes with not having to worry about money is staggering).

Anyway, I was told to give mom a 12 hr notice for when dad was coming over to clean and such. I gave her about 45 minutes and then she wasn't even home to get the message. So when we got there, her husband was there and I ignored him like I always do and she attacked me with a dust mop. You know. Standard family stuff. Dressed for church, she went to change and no sooner was she gone then dad said, "Damn your mom looks good in that dress". Whhhhhaaaaauuuuutttt!!!

I went upstairs to her room and to clear out my mind's eye. No sooner do I get up there then she says, "Gosh, your dad looks good". What the hell! What is going on here!?! What did I miss? How is it that two people who were together for years, never had a fight, and didn't stay together for the child they produced can see each other for the first time in FOURTEEN YEARS and think "I'd hit that"?

I managed to not throw up (personal pat on the back) and we went to the grocery store. But it wasn't the normal trip. Like, he helped mom out tons. He pushed carts. Guarded purses. Bagged items in the little veggie bags and it was... fun?... enjoyable?... family. I felt, for the first time in years, that I was part of a normal, functional family. Nat felt it too. But the crazy part is that we are not a normal, functional family. We are two half sisters, a married woman and a divorcee'. It was just creepy. And then Nat wondered out loud if mom ever looked at her life and where it is now and wished that she had just married my dad, her best friend. She joked that she wouldn't be around if they had. I assured her that she would, we'd just look more alike.

When all the shopping was done and groceries loaded in the car, we went back to Mom's to do the split. That's when April and Becca's dad showed up to bring them back from their weekend. And then her current husband showed up. And suddenly, 3 of the 4 men she'd been married to were standing in her driveway, talking to each other and shooting the shit. I'm sure the only reason that Nat's dad didn't show is because he's dead.

So I'm home now. Wondering how in the hell I'm going to feed three men all over 6 foot 3 for the next week. I don't roll like that. I'm a baller when it's just me. I'm not a baller when it takes a dozen freaking eggs to make one meal.

Dear Baby Jesus,

What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Missing Pieces

I am a rule follower.

It's what I do. And I'm damn good at it.

I don't make exceptions and I don't make excuses; for myself or anyone else.

So when I'm told that I didn't do something right I am always confused. Because I followed the rules. Your rules.

What I had to explain to my boss this morning (even after 5 years of working here) is that if you want me to make an exception for someone that you think is super awesome and above the rules that you made then you need to make a rule that usurps your original rule. Otherwise? He's screwed.

And EH4 stiiiiillll hasn't emailed me. I feel like I'm walking through the Romance Sahara and he was an icey glass of water in an oasis. I feel like I should have parents that are still madly in love and not just amicably co-existing on this planet. I feel like I should have left out the part about bug squishing being a requirement. I feel like I slept with him on the first date because I was overwhelmed by passion even though all the rules were saying I shouldn't. I feel like... crying.

Panic Sets In

I've been emailing/writing/getting to know EH4 all day. And while I should be working, I've only been doing that in between my emails to him. Somehow, this has made the day worth living through although I'm sure I'll pay for my indiscretions later.

Is it possible to have a crush on a person you've never even met?

Thankful Thursday

Today is the day for which I give thanks for all the things that I usually take for granted. And so, I am thankful for:

• fitting comfortably into my jeans again.
• my ridiculous sense of humor (my favorite joke is "Interrupting Cow")
• that spring has sprung in Ohio
• that it is almost time for spring training and football will soon be on t.v. again
• EH4. We were just matched today and (SAPPY ALERT) I really really like him already. *fingers crossed*
• vacation days
• my mom's frenchy-english dialect "His is ... how do you say? Good to look at. And very outdoors-y ... yes??" hahahahaha!!!!

Doooooin' The Bus

Oh yeah! We're taking it back. But this post is less about a fantastic 80's song and more about how some of my "partners" are trying to throw me under the bus in regards to said project. They can suck it. Because if there's one thing my mom has been preaching to me lately it's to CYA or cover my ass. And I've got paperwork coming out my bung hole that proves I've been working when they haven't. So, Ha, Bitches! Ha!

But Why Do I Need Twwwwoooo of Them?

Saturday, I told my Mom about my plans to escape to Atlanta. (Escape – you have to say it with the accent mark. It’s much more fun that way. And drag out the e’ at the end so when you say it in your head it’s like “escahpaaaaay”. Yeah. Like that.)

Anyhow, I told her on Saturday and I guess it’s my fault for not making it sound like a definitive decision. Here’s how the conversation went:

Me: Mom, do you remember Palmer?

Mom: Sure, the one with the crazy girlfriend who cheated on him.

Me: Yeah. He asked me if I wanted to move in with him. I talked to some of my friends about it and they’re split.

Mom: Really?

Me: Yeah. But I’m seriously considering it. I need the change of pace and it would answer a lot of questions I’ve been mulling over for awhile. You know I’ve never liked Ohio and I’m ready to make some changes.

Mom: But you’re not his girlfriend.

Me: Of course I’m not his girlfriend. We talked about it and there are some major boundaries. We even hashed out a couple of major issues but we still don’t agree about overnight guests.

Mom: Well, you need to see it first.

Me: Yeah. (Side note: I say “yeah” to my mom A LOT and ON PURPOSE. When we were growing up, if you answered “yeah” to her question, you would get “YEAH? YEAH? Who are you talking to?” as a response. So now, I say yeah whenever the opportunity arises and sometimes when it doesn’t even apply. Passive aggressive? Yeah.) I was thinking about going in June and I want you to go with me.

Mom: Sure. We can go and then head to the conference*

*”The conference” is something that, according to her, I promised to go to last summer. I don’t believe it but I guess I’m going anyway.

Me: Yeeeeaaaahhh. Fuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkk! What the hell conference are you talking about?**

**Italics represent the thoughts in my head.

Mom: Great. We’ll do that then.

Flash forward to last night. Mom called and we had this conversation.

Mom: I told April and Rebecca that you’re thinking of moving. Becca’s not happy about it.

Me: Oh. I didn’t think you would tell them already. It’s not until the end of the summer. Why would you do that?

Mom: Yeah, but I wanted them to be prepared.

Me: For what? I hate you right now.

Mom: For you not being around.

Me: Hmmm… well, there’s the whole summer. And don’t act like you don’t like Atlanta. I’m sure you’ll visit. And now I have to spend the whole summer kissing little kid ass. Thanks Mom.

Mom: Besides, just because he made the offer doesn’t mean you have to accept it. As far as I’m concerned this is just Plan B.

Me: Plan B? What’s Plan A? What the eff?!?

Mom: We don’t know yet. Who’s to say you won’t find something better? You have the whole summer, you know.

Me: Yeeeeeaaaahhhhh.

You see? I blame myself. I’m not a planner but, I’m also not one to just let life happen to me. The problem with that combination is that I usually jump head first into my endeavors. The good part is my parents have never had to rescue me. The down side is that I’ll usually be ‘stuck’ in something long term just because I don’t have the motivation to change it. I’m lazy like that.

My parents know that I am not a planner. I don’t plan. It’s just not something I do. I’ve never actually managed to save money because I just think of all the things I can do with it right now. When I want something, I want it NOW. If I take time to think about it, it won’t get done. The procrastinator in me will put it off until either the opportunity has passed or I have 8.5 minutes to complete the project.

So, knowing this, why would she expect me to have two whole plans? I didn’t even have one real plan until Palmer called. My “plan” looked like this. See, I disguised them that way so that no one could really hold me accountable for failure. Isn’t that why we make resolutions in the first place? If I was really going to do those things, I would just do them instead of writing them down and procrastinating on them.

Now, I have two choices. I can come up with a Plan A to make her happy or I can tell her that her Plan B is my Plan A and she’ll have to deal with it. Honestly, I think I’ll go with 3. which is to pretend like I’m working on getting a Plan A knowing that Plan B is the only plan and hoping that Palmer doesn’t change his mind because I’ll still be going to Atlanta there’s just the added possibility that I’ll be living out of my car. Yeah, we’ll go with that.

Kick in the Pants

Ethan and I have a very loving relationship. We also have a very honest one. That's why when he wasn't on his plane on Saturday and hadn't spoken to anyone in over a week to advise that he wouldn't be on his plane, I felt comfortable enough to send this email:

"Subject: WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU

No one has heard from you in over a week. Is everything ok? Are you still coming? Write or call me (or somebody) as soon as you get this. Mom thinks you're in prison! And if you're not in prison, Dad's gonna kick your ass!

I Love You.

[J-Bird]"

What I got back was one sentence, "I'm sorry but I'm still waiting"

Which is good to know. Would have been better to know last Friday when family started to arrive in town, but good to know nonetheless.

Chats with a Roomie

28 called me yesterday...

Wait! I think it's time we gave him a real name. Not that I use the real name of anyone I know on this blog. That's right. I use fake names, if only because none of them have given me permission to post about them on my blog. Anyways, we're going to give him a name and it will be Palmer. I love the name Palmer. And I particularly like it as a "last name first name". You know, like Smith. Or Harrison.

Back to the story.

Palmer called me yesterday. He called me to say, "Did you find a job yet?" and I had to remind him that I will find a job even if it's at the CVS by the house. That's right ya'll. I google mapped that sucka! To make it short, we had a long discussion about how he shouldn't worry because I will find something. There's a mall filled with shops and restaurants.

During our conversation I got hungry and set my little heart on some french toast. Mmmmm... So I said, "Don't you wish I was living there right now so you could have french toast, too?".
Palmer: "You would cook for me?"
Me: "I'm not gonna play like your girlfriend or homemaking bitch but, if I'm having french toast and you want french toast then it's just as easy to make some for you because I'm already cooking."
Palmer: "I like that you'll cook for me."
Me: "Wow."

This is gonna be rough

I had forgotten how hard it is to live with boys/guys/men. It's been awhile. But I'm rediscovering, already, how they only hear "key words". You know? Like, cook, clean, and the like.

We talked about pets again. He laughed when I told him about my guinea pig. And we decided that there will be a cat-free zone (also, known as the spaces I rent) and a dog-free zone (known as the upstairs excluding the spaces I rent).

And he doesn't currently pay for trash pick up. I know! I know! That's what I said! How is it that you don't wanna pay the $13 a month to have them come and get your garbage? But he doesn't. Instead he puts it in his car and takes it to work and puts it in their dumpster. Whatever. As long as he takes it out and the house doesn't smell like road kill.

Folks, I'm getting super excited. Mom and I are going down there the first week of June to take a look around and so she can put her stamp on it. I'm really amped. It's all happening for real.

99 Things You Should Definitely Know About Me But Really Should Never Ask

I “borrowed” this from Crystal’s blog. How many of these 99 things have you done? My amazing feats are in bold. Read on and be ah-mazed.

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars – when I went camping that one time
3. Played in a band – I played the flute! Holla!
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo – 6th grade Christmas play, Bitches!
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a thunder and lightning storm
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill.
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping (or in my case… chunky dunking)
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run (yes, the Wii counts)
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant (I once was nice but now am jaded)
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class (I can turn you into a flamingo)
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies (Hells yeah!)
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason (those were the good ol’ days)
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check (this is one I’m not proud of)
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been a passenger on a motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Kissed a stranger at midnight on New Year’s Eve
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Got a tattoo
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

49/99 equals a hearty 49.4%! Not as good as I wanted but I’ve still got lotsa life to live. Keep your fingers crossed that one day soon I’ll play myself in a movie based on the book I wrote about that time I went into labor while saving a fellow juror’s life.

Happy Sunday Ya’ll!!

Weekend Plans

I'm going to tell you about all of the awesome things I have planned for this weekend. As you may or may not already know that my dad is coming to visit and when he does arrive he will be staying with me. Yaaaaaaayyyyy! FAIL.

My dad, God love him, is prior military. And I have been resisting the siren call of disciplined living since I was conceived. For instance, my bathroom currently has, on its floor, used cotton swabs that the dogs "rescued" from the bin, hair, dust, dog hair, and some other random items like bobby pins and hair ties. On my dad's bathroom floor is tile, pristine and clean. I remember going into his bathroom when he was changing apartments and whispering "Wow." You wanna guess what he said? "Yeah, I gotta clean it before we leave". WHAAAAA? His bathroom was cleaner at that moment than mine was on the day I moved in to any apartment.

All that aside, my house smells rank and dank and filled with stank. I can hardly wait until this we get in to the high 40s. I'm opening the windows and letting the sunshine in. Aaaaahhhh!!

Back to reality!

I'll be cleaning everything. Including my room. *long, high-pitched wail*. I can't let my dad see my house like this! Especially my room. He would probably spank me. Or worse, offer to help me clean it.

Plus, I have to go my mom's and do laundry. Can you believe it's been a month? And I'm out of frozen fruits and veggies. And rice. Her deep freezer is calling out to me.

So, where last weekend I got down with my bad self and watched the Olympic hockey team lose to Canada, I'll be knee deep in cleaning products, my poor hands rubbed raw from all the chemicals. =(

Feel bad for me yet?

Our Kind of Love

Today, Mrs. G and I were going through my eHarmony matches and I've got to say that the pickin's... they were slim.

However, it occured to me that only she and CBS111 were getting the pleasure of knowing how bad it really is. And that's why I'm going to post for you: "Best of eHarmony Rejects".

Now, I'm going to do this on my eHarmony one month anniversary. This will give me enough time to rifle through the dozens of matches I've closed for whatever reason. I promise it will be complete with pictures, spelling errors and chihuahuas in t-shirts.

So get ready, Bloggies. It's gonna be as good as you think.

I Will Punch Your Face!

Today is shaping up to be one hellofamotherfuckingday.

For MONTHS we've been working on the same damn project. And for MONTHS I've been saying that she's not been updating The Bosses correctly. In January, they assured me that I was just that far behind and not carrying my weight. In February, I was warned about my subpar performance. And now, in MARCH, it turns out I WAS RIGHT AND THAT BITCH WAS NOT JUST WRONG BUT SUPERDUPERI'MASLACKERANDONLYDOHALFMYJOBBUTMANAGETOSTILLWORKHERE wrong.

I had to go to a secret place and practice some TaeBo moves because the only other alternative was to punch her face.

Thankful Thursday

Today, I am thankful for:

Mom: Who never talked down to us as children so that one day we would be intelligent adults.

Dad: For loving all of my dreams, no matter how wild, and giving me the hand to achieve them.

Ethan: For saying stuff like, "Beyonce' fugged it up for all women. You're so independent, buy your own damned dinner".

Natalie: A little light-headed, a touch bohemian, always tactful and forever stylish.

April: For being just like me but better because you actually take others' advice.

Rebecca: For passing out hugs like a Pez dispenser.

Gramma Dot: My sounding board and my constant cheerleader.

Gramma S: For secretly keeping tabs on me throughout my life. I would have never guessed that you knew that much.

Cheerleading Squads: There's no better picker-upper for your self esteem (Way to go April!!)

Without all of you, I'd be a hot mess.

Some Beach

I broke a head band today. That was at like 0730. Set the tone, ya know?

I am sick... a.gain. Just sore throat and runny nose this time. But now I need to go get more cough syrup.

My flow started today. Pissing me off. Messing with my mind and such. Mostly because it's not acting normally. And also because its a reminder that I have no reason to not expect it because I'm not having sex because I don't have a boyfriend. Bastard.

Emergency Fatigue

Lately, there have been grumblings across the internet about the amount of aid being raised for foreign countries. Some have taken issue with the fact that America offers aid to others when we still have homeless, hungry, and uninsured people living within our own borders.

The reality of it is that we have the means and resources to give help to those individuals within our borders. There are food banks, shelters, and medicare just to name a few programs. But aside from all of that, when we needed help, other countries were there for us.

I'll be the first to say that I am suffering from Emergency Fatigue. I'm not sure if this is an actual term but it accurately describes the way I feel everytime I turn on the t.v. and see another telethon. I can't afford my cell phone bill as it is, why would I text you $10?

For me, it's not just about Haiti. It's about the tsunami, Katrina, the housing bubble, the stock slide, Haiti, Chile, and all the other emergencies that have occured. It seems to me that one of two things has take place. Either a) no one thought that it would be a good idea to have a reserve a.k.a. "rainy day fund" for occasions such as this or b) we've got an effing monsoon on our hands. In my opinion, it hasn't stopped raining since 2005.

I think that most of the Americans that are being vocal about their frustrations are just tired. Tired of the unemployment. Tired of the BS going on in Congress. Tired of people with their hands out. Tired of feeling The Man's hands in our pockets. Tired of not having the answers or having that little extra to give.

You might say, "But it's just $10". The reality of it is that I don't have $10. I over spent by $10 last night at the grocery store and now I have to figure out which one of my bills I'm going to short. My mom? She doesn't have $10 either. She'll work a whole month before she sees her first paycheck.

I'm not saying this to make excuses but when you think about it. How many times can you see a starving face before it doesnt affect you anymore? How many refugee camps does it take for you to become callous? Now, for me, it's like seeing panhandlers on the street. I just keep walking.

Inspiration?

I have none. Instead, I am sitting at my desk calculating how hard I'll have to work the rest of the week to make up for today (which equals FAIL, by the way). I was going to tell you all how I've gained back all but .8 pounds.

Yup, I'm sitting here at a pleasingly plump 235. But I'm ok with it for two reasons. One, I don't have the money to eat better. I've been cramming my face full of cheap food for weeks now. I mean, bags of Chex Mix because they were only $1 at the store. And anything free I can get from my Mom's freezer. Two, I'm so much closer to being out of debt it's not even funny. I'm down to three cards with balances. Discover will be paid off on March 12 to the tune of $414.70. Is it crazy? Yes. Stupid? Quite possibly. Freeing? Absolutely.

Sometimes, I wonder what to do to make myself better and I made the mistake of saying this to my Dad. What he said to me was, "Just be thankful". And I was all, "For what?" [sarcastic tone]. And he said, "For everything".

I won't bore you with a tangent on how my life could be worst with homelessness and lonliness. But I will share that I often forget how truly lucky I am. I won't make a pledge to be more grateful because I don't have it in me to fail at something right now. However, if you feel inspired to pledge... well, then I actually achieved something today.

Geek Like Me

It's here! My pin arrived on Friday and I was so excited to wear it. Now, the picture sucks because I've had the same phone since 2005 and refuse to upgrade or renew my agreement. You'll have to refer to this post if you want to know what it actually looks like. But I'm wearing it with pride people. You know you wish you were me. =)

On the dating front, I got an email from a new match*. None of that getting to know you junk for him, just straight through to email. Let me tell you. This guy was Ballsy. He's from South Carolina and already has two kids. Which isn't a big deal to me provided they are between 2 and 7. (Don't ask - that's just my thing.) But his email didn't really say anything great. He did say that I sound interesting. I am. And modest too. And he said to message him back if I thought he was interesting. So, I did, but I asked some questions because his profile was kind of lacking and we didn't go through the many steps of Guided Communication. I'll let you know how this pans out.

*Henceforth known as EH2. As in, eHarmony 2 because he's the second guy I've mentioned to you.

Now, I did meet EH1** on Saturday. I felt like I was in an interview to be a fetal incubator. The idea that I want to have children sometime before I'm thirty seemed to put him off in a bad way. Like that was too vague for him because he wants them NOW. Like, right now. And can't understand why I would wait so long. I had to explain that I would have them before thirty if I found the right guy but I'm not going to say, "Hey. I want kids. And I'm ovulating. You in?" That'd be ridiculous, right? Let's just say that I laughed and he didn't. I'm really hoping that I don't see him again.

**Because he was mentioned first in this post here.

And I talked with Ethan again. He's still on hold but feeling a little better about it. He got propositioned on MySpace. By a dude. I laughed until it hurt. You would have to know Ethan to understand why it's so funny. He handled it pretty well I thought. But I had to get on him about being so damned pretty. I mean, he's 6'4" and 180 lbs. He shaves his pits and has some of the prettiest feet you've ever seen. (If you get to see them, he won't go around barefoot for fear of developing callouses.) I've been telling him for years to bulk up. Basically he let the guy down easy and told him, very simply, that he doesn't feel the same and they can still be acquaintances but when he sees Ethan he "better talk with some bass in [his] voice". I 'bout died.