I’ve just wrapped up day two of my “Week of Rest” from work, stress, and general strategic thinking and I’ve discovered two things:

*This is glorious; and,
*I’m already bored.

I’m so bored in fact, that I don’t really have anything to blog about, other than I’ve taken it upon myself to convert my entire closet to wooden hangers instead of wire and plastic. Not only is it pleasing to the eye, but it’s supposed to help your clothing somehow. Let me tell you, buying 16 packs of eight wooden hangers quickly takes up the majority of your trunk space.

Other than that, it’s been a pretty uneventful last few days. At some point, I’m going to start piano lessons with the next door neighbor (she’s a former concert pianist – incredibly amazing) and so I hope to get back into the groove of playing. Then I might get a few massages, take some yoga classes, lay out at the pool, and watch the six-hour version of Pride and Prejudice.

I’ll be ready to go back to work in no time!

Heart Racing, Head Throbbing, Water Pumping?

Let me preface by saying that I should never stay up past 11 p.m. on a weeknight. I just can’t handle the seemingly “late” night. And I swear I’m not 12. Some individuals just need more sleep than others, and I’m one of them. Additionally, I should never watch Pride & Prejudice back to back on HBO.

About 5 a.m. this morning, I awaken to a methodical beating sound. Maybe because I’m delusional at this hour, I think my heart is beating so loud that my head is throbbing. I take my pulse, and honestly, I can’t feel anything. I freak out a little more, and then realize that maybe this beating sound isn’t me. That’s probably after about 15 minutes of thinking I’m going to die alone. (Justin is in NYC). Haha.

Stumbling in my room, and Walter also a little out of it, we walk to the bathroom, where the pounding noise gets seemingly louder. At this point, I think that Ashley is in the middle bedroom sewing and beating her sewing machine with some kind of hammer or bat.

So we venture out to the other end of the house where the noise is definitely getting louder – but her door is shut and all the lights are out. And the noise is obviously coming from in-between the walls. At this point, I’ve concluded the following: I’m not going to die, my house is flooding through the walls, and there is a woodpecker floating in the flooded wall trying to peck his way to freedom/avoidance of death. Okay, I honestly thought we were having plumbing issues or the woodpecker got stuck.

I think we all know what I did next – I woke Ashley’s ass out of bed. Because, two girls trying to solve a plumbing problem or a trapped animal is much better than one. So, I wake up Ashley, who also went to bed at late watching the same movie and we both stumble upstairs to see if it is the hot water heater or something.

Putting our ears against the wall to determine if the sound is coming from the attic (instead of just opening the doors like wise individuals – I thought an animal might scurry our or something), we figure it has to be the hot water heater. I grab the attic keys, and discover it is – but have no idea how to turn the bloody thing off. So I just turn it to low and go back downstairs to figure out my game plan.

1. Call warranty plumber. Unfortunately, I can’t find the number, our Internet is down, and my computer broke. Yes – all this morning.
2. Text message Kim (work office manager) to figure out why the crap my computer isn’t working.
3. Call my dad. I think we all knew the parental phone call was coming. He said we may have lost water pressure and to call the city.
4. Call Kim. She gives me the number for the computer help desk at work.
5. Call the Help Desk and leave a message.
6. Call Justin and chew him out for not being here when I needed him. Unfortunately, I woke him up and he doesn’t remember much of the conversation, other than the fact I was chewing him out for no good reason. Which is true. Haha.
7. Call the city. They don’t even ask for my address (retards) and say that it’s my problem and not theirs. Of course, in the middle of that call the noise stops.
8. Call my boss to let him know I am coming in late. Unfortunately, the voicemail cuts me off and I have to call him back saying “The point is, I’m not coming in this morning so I can get this stuff sorted out.” He didn’t get the first message. Haha.
9. Call the plumber. I finally got the stupid phone number for the warranty plumber and they didn’t open until 8:30.

So by this point, the knocking as stopped, so we wait about thirty minutes and try and go back to bed. Unfortunately, every time I almost fall asleep, I keep thinking I hear the noise (which I wasn’t) and eventually just give up.

Long story, well, long story – the plumber won’t come because the noise stopped, my computer is fixed (I need to remember to reboot before calling people so I don’t look like an ass) and I’m at work, hoping my house isn’t flooding. Weeee!

Weloome to my blog!

This past Saturday, I had the opportunity to attend the wedding of a couple I had never met before, and will most likely never see again. I sort of felt like a wedding crasher, but more for the food and alcohol and less about the hooking up (because, I’m married and such).

So about 4 p.m. Ashley and I set out on a drive to the lovely Brenham, Texas, by way of Austin. I’ve taken this drive many times before – it’s a fairly quick route to get to the North side of Houston – but this was the first time I started noticing a bunch of “oddities” during the road trip.

Let me start by saying, I love Texas so much. I could never live anywhere else for a long period of time because it’s home. The people, the land, the history – I just get a wonderful smile on my face sticking my nose against the window during two hour drives through the country.

And it is during those “nose against the window” moments that you find the most ridiculous items to blog about. Seriously, I grabbed a piece of paper and started writing items down, especially in the small town of Giddings, Texas. (which I don’t have with me… so I’m still going from memory) When Justin and I went to the Woodlands for a DMB concert a few years back, we stopped in this town at the local DQ. But, it wasn’t just any DQ, it is a “DQ Restaurant.” Side note: we also received our food in record DQ time – literally Justin was paying and our food was already ready. Nice.

On this particular trip, here are some other random places that would only make sense in Small Town, Texas:

*Weloome to Giddings – You know it’s a bad sign when you enter a town and a hotel sign says,“Weloome to Giddings.” You’re already off to a bad start. Freaking spell “Welcome” right, people.
*Sands Hotel – A few signs along TX-21 and Hwy. 290 (think old school signs) advertised this particular hotel. Most of the time, I’m used to inns/motels advertising free HBO or something. This hotel apparently features “free cable w/ remote.” Because, you know, cable TV just isn’t good enough unless you have a remote to go with it.
*Slender Lady, Weight Loss and Fitness Center – immediately under the sign, “Tan 10 minutes.” Hey, get yourself in awesome shape, and then kill yourself with skin cancer. Nice.

Then immediately out of town, there was also a “Hydrocarbon Corporation.” I don’t know what hydrocarbon is for, but what on earth is it doing in this town, where the nicest “restaurant” is DQ?!

By the time we got to Brenham, home of Blue Bell Ice Cream (and passed through the town of Gay Hill – real smart name in redneck land), the wedding was about five minutes from starting. It was at a place called the Antique Rose Emporium and it was gorgeous. Seriously, if you are wanting a beautiful, small-town Texas wedding, this is the place.

The Middle School Diary

The other day I was cleaning out a closet (and its contents are still strewn across the study floor – I lost interest), and discovered my half-assed attempt at writing in a diary, circa 1994-1995.

It had a lock on it (which doesn’t work anymore), and apparently was from Hallmark – because I demand only the highest quality diary-writing material. Right.

I immediately open it up (however, I still remembered what the combination for the lock is), and on the back page, is a will I wrote for myself. I haven’t written a will since, so I guess if I die, the following things need to be addressed:

1. “All my belongings go to my friends and family” (because not specifying what things need to go to who is a smart solution – people can work stuff out – eh?)
2. “Tell Leti I’m sorry for our stupid fight” (To clarify, me and this girl named Leti were BFFs in fourth and fifth grade, and for whatever reason – probably stupidity and hormones – we had a falling out. In the will, I also say to give her back this keychain she gave me that said “purrfect friends” with some cats on it. How very 1994.)
3. “Tell (omitted) I love him and I’m sorry I never told him” (Only Justin knows who I put down, because it is incredibly embarrassing and something you only share with your husband because it’s so ridiculous.)

And that was it. Now, a friend of mine said how morbid it is for a 13-year-old to write a “living will and testament” in her diary, and under normal circumstances, I completely agree. However, the previous year I had this rare blood disorder that made me a hemophiliac for about six months (originally, they thought I had leukemia) and I very well could have died. So, the idea of a will makes more sense at that age, but its content is still ludicrous!

Side bar – Becki – you apparently stole my diary at one point in eighth grade and wrote an entry that was typical Becki witty. So, you probably know who “omitted” is… maybe ;)

BSC!

A blog that I read quite religiously is Pop Candy on the USAToday.com Web site. Whitney Matheson pretty much likes a lot of the stuff I do (her Lost postings, for example, are a must-read if you watch the show) and one of today’s posts proves it!

“Back when I was shorter and wore enormous glasses, I was hopelessly
addicted to The Baby-Sitters Club. In fact, I probably read Ann M. Martin's
series of books way longer than I should have, but, let me tell you, these
things were impossible to put down! (Favorite character? It's a tie between
Claudia and Mary Anne.)”

Mine was Stacey, hands down. She was hip, cool, from NYC. LOVED HER. My grandfather had diabetes, and so it was great to get a girl POV on the subject. Helped me to better understand the blood tests I would see Gramps do.

So, she links to a site from Scholastic – and it has a pop quiz to determine which babysitter you would be. So I did it. And crap, I’m freaking Kristy. I HATED HER. She was a turd. Probably my least favorite character. Unbelievable. Apparently it’s because “I always speak my mind and sometimes it gets me into trouble.”

But it gets even better. There is a blogger out there who is actually re-reading all of the books. Now I’m super hacked that I gave away a bunch of my BSC books – because I want to re-read all of them.

Anyways, she’s reading one of my favorite books right now – Stacey’s Ex-Best Friend, a.k.a. #51. I don’t think I ever told anyone I wanted to name my future child Anastasia because of the BSC, did I? Now, I’d maybe name my cat that. If I had/wanted/wasn’t allergic to cats.

Sidebar: Me and my BFF, Brandi, went to Town East Mall one Saturday in sixth grade to meet Ann Martin (author of the BSC series) as part of her mall tour. We gave her the biggest stack of book ideas EVER. Haha. I can’t believe we thought she’d read them!

Two weeks...

Notice.

I've accepted another opportunity with an PR agency here in town that provides a significant growth opportunity for my career.

The whole thing is very bittersweet, and it is almost like a mix between breaking up with a boyfriend and graduating college. You know you have to, but yet you'll always have good feelings towards that individual/organization.

So I'm taking a week off around this time, so if anyone wants to plan a trip to Austin, now is a good time to do that :)

But seriously, the whole thing went down very painlessly, and I have a tremendous amount of respect for everyone I work with here. That's the toughest part about leaving.

Soooooo... that's the big news.

stay tuned...

Big changes are coming!

But before I tell you and in the meantime, someone actually took the time to develop a graph of change. I wish I came up with that -- this dude probably made money stating the obvious.

Three Degrees of Separation...

...to Paris Hilton. High-larious. In eighth grade, Justin's cousin was "The Man" -- I think he dated every hot girl that year (so obviously, I wasn't one of them). Ah, the memories.

Tack on another year…

When Justin and I got engaged, we started talking about when we would ideally like to have children and settled on what’s known as the “Three-to-Five-Year Plan.” As you know, we recently celebrated our third anniversary and are now in this midst of this “plan” we devised.

Two news stories during the past twenty-four hours make me want to consider a “Thirty-five-Year Plan” instead. Or home schooling my children, which up until this morning I would never have considered. Let me explain…

Last night, after a particularly late evening at the office, I come home around 8:45 and watch the last few minutes of South Park. I hope my children would never be vulgar, but at times, I hope they are that sharp about what’s going on in the world – Cartman doesn’t count.

Justin then asks what’s on the movie channels, and so I flip around and end up on HBO Family, where they are showing “Middle School Confessions.”

Now, my mind immediately goes back to middle school and how horrible it was. Everyone is confused, hormones are wild, and you knew of about 12-15 kids in your grade that were total whores. I’m thinking to myself nothing has really changed, because I was in middle school only 12-13 years ago.

So this show starts interviewing a bunch of girls about how normal it is to give head at the age of 11 and 12. And I’m shocked. Justin and I are looking at each other like, we are never having kids, ever. I mean, these kids are talking about it in front of their parents! And these girls are saying how empowering it is, because they are in control and they wouldn’t even have to know the person and could just walk away. Seriously, my jaw was on the floor. Crazy. Which, by the way, if you go to the link I provided above, the girl that said that is the one with the braces.

Then this morning, I read an article on CNN about a group of fifth graders in Louisiana who had sex in front of their class for the fifteen minutes their teacher was out of the room. I mean, the worst thing that happened to me in fifth grade was the teacher left to use the restroom and some kid put a roach in my seat and I sat on it. I’m still bitter about that. These kids eventually were arrested because they were doing this in front of other students.

I mean, by the time my daughter is eight, will I have to start her on birth control? Will I have to worry about pregnancy by the time she’s 11? By the time she’s 18, will she be mixing my ashes with cocaine because she’s led me to an early grave? What is this world coming to?

Are parents not teaching their children morals, safe sex practices, or talking to them at all? Granted, 70 percent of the blame lies with the children, because a parent can teach two of their children the exact same principles with different results. But at the same time, are parents too consumed with work, their own activities, to sit down with their children and tell them how stupid they are behaving?

In my most thoughtful moment, I think the end of the world is nearing with stories like this, but then I was watching “The History of Sex” on the History Channel (it was interesting and I was bored) and learned about how people from the Middle Ages addressed sex. The Catholic Church at the time considered prostitution a necessary evil; at the same time, if you had sex and the woman was on top, you could be hanged. Then, there are these old prayer books from this time period with pictures of people getting it on in the margins.

So I suppose this isn’t abnormal behavior necessarily, but is happening way too early in a child’s life. Children at the age of 11 or 12 should not be expressing themselves sexually, and most likely are not engaging in safe sex. Think about it – you don’t even learn about STDs until ninth grade in the state of Texas, and most of the time, the teacher blows through that subject in about three days, and the topics never make a lasting impression.

All this to say, I would wait a long time to have children, because the idea of raising a hellion that sexes it up on the weekends, in-between classes and in his/her parent’s bed mortifies me, but the longer I wait, the more likely it is I’ll be worrying about this stuff during their terrible twos.

Regardless, don’t be expecting any birth announcements from me in the next year.

How to get high without smoking

Sigh, I guess I knew at some point, going to a Dave Matthews Band concert would lead to drug use.

Granted, I’m proud to say that I have yet to willingly participate in drug use at any point in my life, nor have I ever smoked a cigarette. Call me a prude, a goodie-goodie, or what have you, but I don’t feel the need to ever alter the state of my mind. I like my mind and the way I think just fine.

That said, I got totally high on Saturday in Vegas. So here are the three ways to get high without trying/wanting to:

Step One: Attend either a Phish or Dave Matthews Band concert. Either will ensure you receive enough second-hand smoke to be high as a kite.

Step Two: Unknowingly get seats where there are no concert attendants/cops monitoring the crowd for pot use.

Step Three: Make sure the seats are as high up as possible, as smoke rises.

Justin and I like DMB – that doesn’t mean we have to smoke it to enjoy his music. Unfortunately, a lot of tools do, which makes me sad. And honestly, the only thing I enjoyed more during the concert being high wasn’t even the music – it was the cool light affects on the stage. And Lord, I scarfed down some serious food afterwards. How stereotypical.

I Heart Co-Workers

I seriously work with the best group of people --

Back in February, I had accidently offered to play Ave Maria at my great-aunt's funeral. Two problems:

1. I had never played Ave Maria on the piano or violin before.

2. I had not played in public on the piano or violin since May of 2000. And to show off my mad math skills, that's almost seven years.

Amazing how time flies. So, me and my worry-wart self made my co-workers suffer through Ave Maria. Our GM/head honcho had brought wine, beer, cheese and crackers for the little shindig, which was quite sweet.

I don't really remember much from the event, or playing, but apparently I made someone tear up. Because it was good or because it was horrible remains unseen.

South by South suX!!

Oh yeah, I said it. And I mean it.

First off, let me say how much I luv my STFL and I’m glad she’s playing SXSW this week. However, for the most part, I hate this festival, and here are a few reasons why:

Price Gouging: I loathe the fact that the majority of Austinites are priced out of SXSW. The average wristband sells for the cost of 15 CDs. People that are making a trip out of this festival consider it a reasonable cost as part of their “vacation” (as I see my $400 spree to see DMB for two nights in Vegas… completely worth it in my eyes), so I understand, kinda. But for the average Austin citizen, it’s a lot to pay to see people in your own town plus put up with the upheaval. I can’t even get into shows without wristbands. DUMB.

Traffic: You tools coming to SXSW ruin my ability to get home every night from work. Jerks. They shut down all the necessary roads downtown, making the other roads even more congested. Suck!!! I want to get home at a decent hour.

Posers: This is a t-shirt and jeans city. Justin and I went and had dinner at Eddie V’s the other night for our anniversary, a pretty upscale restaurant, and there were a lot of people wearing jeans. But the infiltration of total posers means stupid girls dressing like sluts and guys trying to dress, well odd. Oh, and then all the people proudly displaying their badges like they are in some kind of cool crowd. Get over yourselves, posers.

There are other reasons, mainly me being grumpy and about to ride the crimson wave, but I’m telling you, I’m not the only one that feels this way. The music is so loud, that I am in my cube on the 25th floor, and I hear music. How am I supposed to get my work done?!

After thinking about that for a bit, why am I complaining about not getting work done? Sigh, I just want my downtown back, where the only weirdo I see is Leslie, the cross-dressing homeless man with Bluetooth technology. I don’t even have Bluetooth technology. Oh, and he also has his own line of “Dress Leslie’ magnets on sale at BookPeople. I need to check that out.

Hahahahahahaha

That's awesome.

Three Years Ago Today...

... I said "I do" to this man:

He's just as cute as ever! Nice man boobs in this picture! Haha.

Your life is subject to interpretation.

Isn’t it funny how you see your life in one way, and others see it a completely other way?

Take for example in sixth grade. This girl was being a real butt to me. Turns out, I was a real butt to her in fourth grade and it was retaliation. Who knew?

It’s interesting how what we remember about ourselves and others shapes who we become, and how others see me (sometimes the same situation in a completely different/wrong light) shape how they think of me.

During Lent, I think about these things, because I am curious to know what God thinks of me -- 'cause He's the most important and all. Is He looking through the lens of others, or through the lens of my intentions? I’m guessing it’s a mix of both – haha, God isn’t near- or far-sighted, He’s both! What an opthamologist bill he must have! (Whoa, way corny. My apologies)

So, random lesson for the day: before you do something, think of how God and others see you, and not just yourself. It’s a way to embody the Catholic-Guilt-Ridden approach to life;)

Sincerely,
Guilt-Ridden Girl

Ashes versus Pamphlets

I think it’s a valid question, don’t you? I don’t normally talk about religion – but I do on certain occasions, and this is one of them.

Let me start back at the beginning.

Wednesday, Feb. 23, 11:00 a.m.
Jenni attends an Ash Wednesday service at the Cathedral downtown. Fun times had by all, and I particularly enjoyed the Statesman’s pictures of the occasion. Usually, the priest skimps on the ashes, but I got a good glob on my head that took some serious scrubbing to get off that evening.

11:30 a.m.
I went and got sushi at my favorite downtown sushi place – Silhouette. It’s cheap, really. Or at least, cheaper than the other places downtown. Unfortunately, after almost two hours, I still didn’t have my sushi. Ridiculous, right? But I was in a slightly forgiving moving, given that I had ashes all on my head, so I didn’t make a big deal out of it. I was with a group of 12 people. And there was only one sushi roller, and they had other customers.

1:32 p.m.
So every month, or near a religious occasion, some evangelical Christians stand at the corner of Sixth and Congress to berate those walking by. Sometimes they have large signs, other times a huge horn player, and generally, five to six individuals trying to hand out pamphlets to unsuspecting individuals that proudly proclaim how everyone is going to Hell if you don’t believe EXACTLY what they do.

Honestly, I thought with the huge blob of ash on my head, I wouldn’t be a target that day. I mean, hello, my God is their God, I believe Jesus died for my sins, etc.

But this rude individual decided to berate my ashes in front of everyone at Sixth and Congress. I mean come on – if you are already trash-talking Christians, what makes you think that someone who isn’t a believer is going to listen to you?

Specifically he said, among other things, “Those ashes won’t save you, but this will,” as he tries to hand me a paper detailing all the ways me and my dog are going to Hell.

Jerks. Of course, you can’t get into a conversation with them, because it will just make them even more rude and cruel.

So- ashes or pamphlets? Honestly, I’d like to burn some of those BS pamphlets and smear those ashes on their foreheads. Just a thought.

But seriously, I know that the ashes aren’t going to save me. But I also know that’s not the point of them. Obviously, these guys have no idea what they mean. I’m just glad they think they know what they believe.

Uncle Jesse and Valentine's Day

Rarely do I blog about work conversations, but I simply couldn’t pass this up… my supervisor, Eric and I were discussing a Valentine’s Day card I got him (Grey’s Anatomy themed – Dr. Shepherd on the front, “Keep the McDream Alive” inside the card) and he didn’t get the joke. Sigh. Totally ruined the funny.

So we get on topic about ER and how he used to watch it when George Clooney was on there. So I say, “I know, and now none of the original cast is there, and Uncle Jesse is on it. How bizarre.”

And Eric goes, “FROM DUKES OF HAZZARD?!”



Then I had to say no. So embarrassing to admit I watched that chop on television and thought he was cute at age 8. Sigh.

Which Dallas Girl Am I?

Got this from a fellow co-worker, and knowing that many a Dallas-ite frequent the blog, I thought this would be worth sharing. *Sigh, I can't believe the Mesquite one.

Mattel recently announced the release of limited-edition Barbie Dolls for the Dallas market:

" Highland Park Barbie"
This princess Barbie is sold only at Northpark. She comes with an
assortment of Kate Spade Handbags, a Lexus SUV, a long-haired foreign dog named Honey
and a McMansion on Beverly Drive. Available with or without tummy tuck and face
lift. Workaholic Ken sold only in conjunction with the augmented version.


" Plano Barbie"
The modern day homemaker Barbie is available with Ford Windstar Minivan
and matching gym outfit. She gets lost easily and has no full-time occupation.
Traffic jamming cell phone sold separately.


" Oak Cliff Barbie"
This recently paroled Barbie comes with a 9mm handgun, a Ray Lewis knife,a
Chevy with dark tinted windows, and a Meth Lab Kit. This model is only
available after dark and must be paid for in cash (preferably small, untraceable
bills) unless you are a cop, then we don't know what you are talking about.


" Frisco Barbie"
This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of BMW convertible or Hummer H2.
Included are her own Starbucks cup, credit card and country club membership. Also
available for this set are Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper. You won't be able to
afford any of them.


" Mesquite Barbie"
This pale model comes dressed in her own Wrangler jeans two sizes too
small, a NASCAR t-shirt and tweety bird tattoo on her shoulder. She has a six-pack of Bud
light and a Hank Williams Jr. CD set. She can spit over 5 feet and kick mullet-haired Ken's
butt when she is drunk. Purchase her pickup truck separately and get a confederate flag
bumper sticker absolutely free.


" Grand Prairie Barbie"
This tobacco-chewing, brassy-haired Barbie has a pair of her own
high-heeled sandals with one broken heel from the time she chased beer-gutted Ken out of Southside
Barbie's house. Her ensemble includes low-rise acid-washed jeans, fake fingernails, and a
see-through halter-top. Also available with a mobile home.


" Lower Greenville Barbie"
This doll is made of actual tofu. She has long straight brown hair,
arch-less feet, hairy armpits, no makeup and Birkenstocks with white socks. She prefers that you call her
Willow . She does not want or need a Ken doll, but if you purchase two Point Breeze Barbies
and the optional Subaru wagon, you get a rainbow flag bumper sticker for free.


" East Dallas Barbie"
This Barbie now comes with a stroller and infant doll. Optional accessories
include a GED and bus pass. Gangsta Ken and his 1979 Caddy were available, but are now very
difficult to find since the addition of the infant.



" Oak Lawn Barbie/Ken"
This versatile doll can be easily converted from Barbie to Ken by simply
adding or subtracting the multiple snap-on parts.

Thoughts on a Friday Night

This evening – sitting in traffic – I started thinking about things. Maybe it was the song on the radio (Five for Fighting, 100 years), but I had just gotten off the phone with my mom. My great aunt is pretty sick and broke her hip/fractured her femur earlier in the week. Now they think she might have a tumor in her lung, which is never good, especially at the age of 84.

But something hit me talking with her that made me happy. My parents are trying to get my great uncle home before the ice storm hits Dallas, and he refuses to leave the hospital – he doesn’t want to leave her alone. She’s in ICU, so he doesn’t even get to see her all the time, but he doesn’t care. He won’t leave.

I don’t know how long they’ve been married – probably close to 60 years, maybe more – but I started thinking about Justin and I at that age. We’ll probably still snippy at each other, but in a cute way. But more importantly, I hope we’re just like that – never leaving each other’s side, ever. Maybe that’s what happens when you are married to your best friend. Just a thought.

Sigh. We’ll probably still be losers too – he’s watching the Houston/Denver game while navigating the ESPN Web site, and I’m writing this blog. When we’re 84, we’ll probably still be doing the same thing, just slightly altered. I’ll be thinking thoughts for a blog that will automatically be posted on someone’s brain, and he’ll be watching the basketball game in some virtual console that makes it look like he has courtside seats.

And so now you know what happens when I think too hard…

I'm in Love

Come June 2007, I'm going to be married to this sweet thing! (And by default, sucked into the Cingular world... sigh)

http://www.apple.com/iphone/

Apple is consistently an innovator -- and this device proves it. Take that Microsoft! This is the year the B's go Apple/MAC!

No work when birds die?

Okay, I lie -- I'm working from home today, but the lucky fools that don't have access to their networks get to stay home and do nothing because a bunch of birds died.

Odd. See latest AP story: http://news.bostonherald.com/national/view.bg?articleid=175992

You know -- You Suck at Speaking

Okay, maybe I'm taking this a little far, but I couldn't even finish this article because one phrase kept being said over and over again by the interviewee.

So here's media training 101, kids -- figure out what your speech "ticks" are -- such as, "yeah," "um," "gosh," etc., and then don't use them. Please. For the sake of anyone listening to you. Maybe that will actually require you to think before you speak, and you'll kill two birds with one stone.

On a side note, I also think whoever transcribed this is being a real jerk. Most writers would have just left out the "you know" part.

Second side note -- I think Donald Trump and Rosie O'Donnell are both being real babies. Whoever is wrong/right doesn't matter -- please, just grow up and shut up. The higher moral ground would be to not say anything at all.

Enjoy!

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/16469812/

New Year, New Me?

Inevitably, every January 1, myself – along with approximately 250 million Americans – have this stupid notion that resolutions are key to a successful and prosperous coming year, along with black eyed peas (yuck). And by April 24 – inevitably again – 95 percent of Americans come to the conclusion that resolutions totally suck.

So why do we play this game with ourselves? Do we enjoy setting up inevitable failure, cherish the promise of shattered goals, cling to the off-chance that we will become that five percent of Americans who lose weight or whatever that thing is we are “resolving”(as evident by the “results not typical” smaller-than-your-nose-hair typeset below their picture on the 2 a.m. infomercials)?

Really, the only time I am able to keep any type of promise to myself is during Lent, when – as a Catholic – the fear of God’s wrath instills some type of impenetrable force field around your promise to workout more, stop eating candy/fattening foods, and read the bible nightly. Because, of course, Jesus’ love for me and my BMI go hand in hand… right?

The point is, why do we kid ourselves with seemingly unattainable promises of a better life?

Also, why have I used the term inevitable or a similar function of the word so many times in this posting? Probably lack of a decent vocabulary…

I don’t really know why we make goals we can’t keep, so my resolution this year is no resolutions at all. Sure, I still want to lose weight, and yes, I’d love to focus more on my spiritual enlightenment, but I made those promises to myself back in September, not January 1.

Maybe because I didn’t want to be like everyone else, but more because I wanted to set my own goals on my own time, my own way – not on some day set in stone by Hallmark, 24 Hour Fitness, or Nutrisystem Nourish. (Which, by the way, those commercials do make that food look yummy… but I decided to make my own food myself – oh, and did you notice those commercials started running right around the holiday season? Coincidence – of course not! Commercialism is in every aspect of our lives, integrated to a ridiculous degree – but that is for a different blog posting)

So here is my ultimatum to you – stop defining your life by a date, by one or two unrealistic goals that will only cause you a greater setback when you don’t reach them. Take baby steps, meditate or pray on how you can better improve your life – but make it realistic and obtainable and not according to a calendar, because when you do reach a goal, it’s the best feeling in the world (results not typical).

BTW, I didn’t have any black eyed peas today.

Merry Christmas!

So my first Christmas hosting went off without a hitch, like I thought. I truly owe its success to some wonderful cooks (okay and I cook too!), last-minute shopping options, and family.

Highlights include a two-year old running scared to the first grandmother (never met her before either!) in sight after getting a Christmas gift, Justin’s homemade present for his mom, a new scarf, Sponge Bob Square Pants, (my personal favorite – stress) and Walter enjoying his new ball bone.

I hope you had as much fun as I did this holiday season, and I look forward to 2007 – who knows what’s in store?! Okay, definitely not that, but definitely this in Las Vegas. Sweet.

Merry Christmas!

Rubik's Cube

I saw a Rubik's cube last night standing in line at Walgreens...

And today in my cube, something is completely rancid, and I can't figure out what it is... maybe it is in the cube next to me? I don't know? Make it stop? AHH?

I'm ready for the holidays :)

Christmas Preparations

Christmas 2006 will be know to the JB clan as one of two things – a) The year Jenni put on the best Christmas family gathering ever, or b) The year Jenni screwed it up.

It’s a lot to have on your shoulders, honestly. Part of it is because I’m so anal – everything must be so unachievably perfect, or I risk crying really hard.

So preparations for a Sunday the 24th D-Day (C-Day?) began Saturday. I started by getting out the trusty Dyson from the Harry Potter closet (if you’ve been to the house, you’ll know what I’m talking about), and attaching multiple vacuum attachments to it in one hand. The other hand held Mr. Clean’s Magic Eraser. Then I had my trusty cleaners in my bathroom carrying tote in the third hand. I get a little beasty when cleaning, as Justin can attest… I take on supernatural powers too.

So Saturday and Sunday I cleaned like I have never cleaned before – every nook was spotless, every corner was free and clear of dust and cobwebs. I probably spent a grand total of 12 hours cleaning, and I still have half of the kitchen, the master bedroom and bathroom, and all of Justin’s upstairs to go.

So, here’s to wishing I didn’t use all of my supernatural powers this weekend, because it’s going to be a long week. At least all of my Christmas shopping is done.

Thinking...

So, a former co-worker of mine that I worked with on a bunch of projects is the same woman whose husband was found on the mountain in Oregon.

I found out this morning on the radio that they IDed her husband, and I kinda just crawled into bed with Justin and gave him a hug. Unfortunately, he was asleep and doesn't remember -- not the point though.

Today, just give those you love an extra hug, tell them how much you appreciate them in your life. Especially this time of the year.

So, much love everyone... have a happy holiday and cherish the ones you are with.

It’s Christmas – Let’s Get Sloshed!

So I’m pretty sure when Christ was born, the Lord wasn’t downing a ridiculous amount of wine to celebrate his son’s birth. Just a guess, and God – feel free to comment, as long as you are a Blogger Beta member. If not, feel free to reach me directly on my e-mail.

Since Christ’s birth however, man has turned Christmas time into more of a party-type atmosphere. Specifically, during the work “Christmas Party” – better known as the “Holiday Party” to avoid being sued for infringing on non-Christians beliefs, or lack thereof. But I digress.

The “Holiday” party for your work typically consists of general mingling with those you already spend 40+ hours with on a weekly basis. Do we really want to spend that much time with work-folk? According to a recent study conducted by myself and based on no statistics or discussion with others, we’re pretty indifferent.

The tipping point to those attending such a party is this – free booze. My work “Holiday” party had a substantial amount – full bar to be exact – for more than two hours. It’s like Wedding Crashers or something, except you go for the booze alone and not random hook-ups.

However, what is the motivation for individuals to attend “Holiday” parties when no free booze is offered? Take for example my husband’s work. Apparently, his work party is on a Thursday from 4-6 p.m. – serving only appetizers. We aren’t going either. Now, granted, my husband doesn’t drink and I have to actually work that day, but the point is, I’d at least try and leave work early if free booze was involved and my husband was actually going (he is in a golf tournament that day). But citing that same study from the above paragraph, who wants to hang around people you already have daily/hourly contact with if there is no incentive?

Just a thought, and my study is free to interpretation. So feel free to interpret in the comment section. You too, God. I know you want to.

Am I the Last Person...

TO HEAR ABOUT THIS?!

http://www.cnn.com/2006/TRAVEL/12/06/plane.passing.gas.ap/index.html?eref=rss_topstories

(Hint: Look at the web link closely)

Bread Bowls=Cold Weather

You might be wondering how I came up with this amazing equation, but it requires a few paragraphs of narrative that only I could write up :)

Let me start with, I was a total Biotch today. I don't know why, I just felt like being a giant butt today.

I guess it starts with the fact that the wind was howling all night long, and I lost sleep. Happy Jenni = min. 8 hours of sleep. Jenni did not meet this equation.

I cut a few people off more than I normally do in the morning commute -- but, I really needed to be at work, so I blame work :)

Then, I get a message on my YouTube page I had set up for a work project. I scurry over to YouTube only to discuss some moron con artist is pulling that "My grandmother put away $5.8 million in a bank in South Africa and now the government won't let the family get to the money, so if you give them your bank information, they'll pay you back." Oh, and the best part, "God Bless."

I think that put me over the edge, truly. So I wrote back to the e-mail address... "Dear Idiot. This scam is at least 3 or 4 years old -- find something new to use. Further, may God bless you, because he's not going to look kindly on someone trying to rip people off."

Unfortunately, it bounced back, and I was even more miffed.

Then, because it is quite chilly in the ATX today, I decided to go to my favorite place, Panera Bread for a bread bowl soup to take home.

They ran out of bread bowls five minutes before I got there. Jerks.

So I tell them I specifically came here for the bread bowl. And then I was like, you just lost my business for not having a bread bowl. The guy thought I was crazy. Honestly, I probably am.

So I go to McAllisters -- and they are out of bread bowls too!!!! WTF?!!!!! Unbelievable. At this point though, it's cutting into my Ugly Betty hour, and I have no choice but to order the greatest Spud of my life. So everything worked out.

But never get a craving for bread bowls on cold days, you'll be left sad. Like me. :'(

My Top 10

I haven’t updated in awhile, and while I keep wanting to with all the glorious tidbits of life I experienced during the last week, I just haven’t. Ay.

Anyways, to make the brain dump easier on myself – and you, oh loyal reader(s) – I have compiled a list of my top 10 Blogger-ish Moments. The first five kinda suck, because I can’t think of that many things that happened.

10. I love having four days off from work; however, the “Case of the Mondays” are particularly heinous afterwards.
9. Justin’s grandmother had cancer treatments on Thanksgiving Day. Very sad. BUT, she is still so beautiful – and her wig makes her look at least 10 years younger! I just think that is fabulous.
8. Black Friday was surprisingly easy going at Last Call in Austin. I mainly wanted to beat people up because they had poor fashion sense, not a poor attitude.
7. Potheads are sooo not cool. Not as much a blogger moment, as fact. Don’t do drugs, become a underpaid professional instead – it has the same downer effect.
6. Seeing a bunch of old people get off a bus in front of my parent’s house to pick pecans. HAHAHA.
5. Taking a 5-mile walk while the old people are picking pecans, only to come back and see my dad taking a picture of the old people in front of said bus and parent’s house. I was too tired to do another 5 miles though, so I just laughed really hard.
4. Going with Ashley to Fredericksburg on Saturday for a day of shopping. Nothing really that blog-tastic, other than the fact I blew an unbelievable amount of money of stuff that quite easily qualifies as junk. Makes for good Christmas gifts, I suppose. Just don’t ask me where I got your gift. Gift to myself – some Uggs… but I got those at Nordstrom after shopping in Fredericksburg.
3. Walter getting loose in the backyard and us freaking out that he ran away, only to find out he had somehow managed to prop up the fence, craw over to the neighbors, and get stuck over there. What a nut.
2. Justin breaking a pitcher filled with Crystal Light all over the kitchen floor. That’s not the funny part. The funny part was him trying to figure out how to use a mop – it was his first time mopping. Hil-ar-e-mus!
1. Being asked to vacuum my parents house and clean the bathroom (like, the toilet, the tub, everything) in return for staying there. Needless to say, we won’t be staying there again any time soon. Silly ‘rents!

America’s Finest News Source, at a Newsstand Near You

I was frolicking over to my second office at Sixth and Congress (no, not the Bank of America building where I typically reside – but that glorious beacon of light that provides my morning wallet gouging), when I look over to see the front pages of such quality newspapers as the Houston Chronicle, Austin American-Statesman, Dallas Morning News, Austin Chronicle, El Mundo, and um, The Onion.

That’s right kids, The Onion now has a print edition for each of your cities, and I suppose, for a limited time only, the paper is free. Glorious! Now I can find out that Chris Thaney of Hapeville, Ga., is starting his own car company after getting laid off from Ford -- and he expects to succeed. Or better yet, the real reasons why Brit and Fed-Ex are getting divorce.

PLUS, because I work for “The Man,” no one has to know that I’m visiting non-news source Web sites. If only PerezHilton would do the same. He would make a fortune.

The CLUB LIVES!

In a Dodge Neon.

So I was parking my car in the parking garage this morning, and I look over at the car I parked next to only to see something attached to the steering wheel.

Upon closer examination, I discovered was an off-brand "Club" -- you know, those ugly red things that people used to "protect" their cars in the mid-90s?

Apparently, this individual thought his 2001 Neon is some sort of prize possession and had to "Club" it -- not knowing that the Club is like, the easiest hacked anti-theft device on the planet.

If a thief wants to break into your car, he will. That's why you have insurance.

And Arnold, if this is your car, I'm going to laugh so hard, and make fun of you forever. :)

Sigh.

Happy birthday, Serna -- I don't think you read this blog, but I just have to share this picture with people, even if it means my own embarrassment.

This is sick.

I'm disgusted. http://www.dailybruin.com/news/articles.asp?id=38960
For those wanting to see the video: http://youtube.com/watch?v=5g7zlJx9u2E (I'm not going to watch it... reading the news story is definitely enough.)

I’m related to a Desperate Housewife!

So I suppose I need to clarify this one, but it’s pretty funny. In middle school, myself (along with others who read this blog), went to school with a Josh Henderson. He was a bit of a player in the day, and I’m going to say, rightfully so – he was hot. He had a new girlfriend every week, which wasn’t entirely surprising back in the middle school era, but he had to move at the end of the year, breaking the hearts of a handful of girls.

Flash forward to 2001ish. Justin gets a call from his mom that his cousin (I think like 2nd or 3rd) is on this WB Making the Band-type show called Popstars that was, honestly, horrible. Turns out it’s Josh Henderson. So he’s on that show, and at Thanksgiving, another relative says he’s dating the younger, not-well-known sister of Jessica Simpson – Ashlee Simpson.

Anyways, they break up (obviously), and we’re told that he is trying to “make it” in Hollywood, and was in a Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen movie… not exactly big time, but whateva.

So I haven’t been keeping up with Desperate Housewives this season (I’ve watched one or two episodes) – and the hot new love interest for Julie on the show is Edie’s nephew… played by Josh Henderson! HAHAHA. So funny. He even has an IMDB page! Click: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1259068/ Apparently he’s been in a few movies too… Step Up as one of them. That’s so hilarious.

So in theory, I’m sorta related to him by marriage. I’ll really start cracking up if I read about him on PerezHilton or something.

Why Running in Circles is More Productive Than Voting

Back in 12th grade, specifically government class with Mrs. Anderson, I was Ms. Utopia Voterwoman – 18, and anxiously holding my voter registration card for the first opportunity to vote.

Then I met a Justin B. Justin was also of Utopian mindset until our sophomore year of college, when InfoWars and 9-11 tainted his view of politics. Now of the conspiracy mindset, Justin tries to inflict his anti-voting venom on me at any given moment.

And I’ll admit, up until about 4 p.m. today, the venom had a poisonous affect on me. That and the fact that researching politicians all day does not help their pleas that corruption, money, manipulation, and lies only affect a smaller portion of “their kind.” The fact of the matter is, even the most honest politician or his minions have one of those traits, no matter how “Christian” or “Honorable” they may be.

But seeing my fellow co-workers get into the “voting” spirit got me excited about my civic duty. And I realized, as much as I’m disgusted with politics today, my previous stance of “uninformed voters are much more dangerous than non-voters” made me feel even more apathetic. I became determined to make a change.

So I did some quick research, printed out some names, highlighted some topics, and left work early to vote. Instantly, I became an informed, or delusional, voter – some would argue both are one in the same.

I pull up to the Episcopal Church that is my voting station, and see the line reaches to the driveway. Not to fear, glorious technology is in place to make this civic duty a quick and painless process.

An hour later, I’m still in the driveway.

I finally get to the front of the line, show my driver’s license to the kind, but slow (as in the main reason why the line was going slow) man so he could confirm my registration in the precinct and be on my merry way.

My name, however, was nowhere to be seen on the binder.

“Sir, this must be incorrect. I re-registered to vote in the precinct when I changed the address on my driver’s license.”

The “voting judge, ” or whatever her title was, informs me that several people have come into only to find out that checking the box at DPS DID NOT WORK.

SONS OF BITCHES! Normally I do not speak such harsh terms regarding my former employer, but my old boss/friend/mentor is getting an irate call from me tomorrow.

At this point, I may have started to tear up, only because I truly wasted an hour and a half of my time for nothing. The judge tried to get some official on the phone, but the line was busy. And by this point, I couldn’t drive over to my old precinct because it was already 7 p.m.

So, I stood in line for an hour and a half, and the only people that knew my good intentions were me and God. Unfortunately, God wasn’t listed in my precinct either. He must live in a new neighborhood too.

So it appears that the three-year-old boy standing in front of me the whole time, running circles around his mom and sister, got more out of voting than I did… I went home empty handed – no “I voted” sticker proudly displayed on my chest.

Oh, and side note – a new girl at work asked me if I was pregnant today. But that’s a story for another blog.

Why Faith Hill's Publicist is Working Overtime...

I wouldn't want to be Faith Hill's PR person right now.

What an idiot... someone must have told her she was going to win.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S_P-aYADTkw

Just Hear Those Sleigh Bells…

It’s begun. That time of year when you are suddenly, and without warning, whistling the classics – Jingle Bells, Silent Night. You don’t mean to, but the excitement starts building.

Usually, I’m the only child in my relationship – Justin plays it cool, old man-ish. But today he wanted to go get Christmas lights for the house. Like, $400 worth of Christmas lights. And then he decided to create this design on notebook paper.

I guess it’s just that time of the year. I spent the day wrapping Christmas gifts. Wee!

Anyways, YAY CHRISTMAS!

Sounds of My Life

I saw this on someone's MySpace bulletin, and I had fun filling it out. I just wish I had all of my CD's uploaded to iTunes so this could have been more "life" like. Ha.

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle/Random
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
Opening Credits:Superstar (Lauryn Hill, Miseducation of Lauryn Hill)
Waking Up:How Could An Angel Break My Heart (Toni Braxton) *I’m heartbroken everyday I suppose.
First Day At School:What If (Coldplay, X&Y) *Makes sense, I ask way too many questions.
Falling In Love:Let You Down (Dave Matthews Band, Live Dec. 8, 1996) *Anything DMB, happy or sad, is like falling in love.
Breaking Up:The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts (Sufjan Stevens, Illinois) *HAHA! That’s funny.
Prom:We Belong Together (Mariah Carey, Emancipation of Mimi) *Haha – probably makes sense… Mariah sounds like a psycho lover in this song, and I was fairly delusional myself during that time.
Life's OK:Push (Madonna, Confessions on a Dance Floor) *That’s probably a good song for this point in my life.
Mental Breakdown:Gone (Kelly Clarkson, Breakaway) *Breakdowns bring clarity.
Driving:Rock Da Bells (LL Cool Jay … I know, random) *Low Rider would have been preferred.
Flashback:No Surprises (Radiohead, OK Computer)
Getting Back Together:Rainbow Connection (Kermit the Frog, The Muppet Movie) *The lovers, the dreamers, and me. Green is the way to my heart.
Wedding:Headlights on Dark Roads (Snow Patrol, Eyes Open) *Yikes.
Birth of Child:Immortality (Pearl Jam, Greatest Hits)
Final Battle:Snow White Queen (Evanescence, The Open Door) *I just like them, a lot.
Death Scene:One Sweet Day (Mariah Carey and Boyz II Men) * Wow, odd.
Funeral Song:Shadrach (Beastie Boys, Paul’s Boutique) *Uh, no.
Sex Scene:Drown in My Own Tears (Ray Charles) *Sex isn’t that bad. ;)
Dance Sequence:Seed (Sublime) *I could see this with a margarita in my hand and really drunk.
End Credits:I Will Remember You (Sara McLachlan, Adia Single) *Quite appropriate.

No Electricity SUX

Last night, the electricity went out for about two hours. It probably was the most boring two hours of my life because Justin and I were forced to spend time with each other. I wanted to watch TV, he wanted to watch football, we both wanted to surf the Internet and IM each other... and we couldn't do anything. We sat. And sat some more. We walked outside for ten minutes and saw neighbors dropping out like flies (the whole neighborhood had no power). In fact one couple got into separate cars and drove off. Another guy was trying to pick up other men to go play pool at the local pool house -- hopefully he wasn't disappointed and the power was out there as well.

Finally, after lighting some candles, I realized I could play free cell and watch LOST on my computer (thank you Dell and your 3 hour battery life). Justin was forced to play Solitaire on his computer (on his Vaio with about 45 minutes of battery life). Luckily the power came back on and we quickly went back to normalcy. YAY!

However, our electricity woes just began! Justin and I were abruptly awaken at 5:55 a.m. by the sharp shrill tone of our burglar alarm. Seriously, I thought we were toast. It stopped after four seconds or so, and we realized it was the smoke detector (which is connected to our house alarm). I couldn't go back to sleep, and tried to figure out what made it go off. Ugh. So Justin is handling that with the builder this morning -- our smoke detector is too high up on our ceiling and even the nine-foot ladder can't get to it! Plus, the smoke detectors run off electricity and a power supply -- not battery operated. So we're just confused really.

Home ownership is not something to go into lightly, people. Sigh. That's another blog for another day.

An' Another Thing

So freaking cute!! As for me, I'm looking at a different camera. Haha. Oh, and this thing isn't mine or anything.

Old School Nintendo

So I introduced Justin to this Web site I found surfing the net for work one day -- VNES -- yes, a virtual old school Nintendo game Web site. Sick.

Anyways, he's been playing it non-stop and enjoying it, so I thought I should share it with the rest of the world/2 people that read this blog. (Hi, Arnold and Ashley's mom!)

That, and it provides a great excuse to post this picture. Thanks Gizmodo and some random Japanese site.

Walter’s Friends…

Today’s my birthday, and to my surprise, I received a gift from my dog, Walter! Thanks Walls!

In other news, my desk is a mess... and if you look close enough, you'll see what Justin and I do in our spare time -- write stupid notes to each other Elementary school style.

To All My Girls...

At work, we have this white board that everyone writes on – Ivette and I usually pick a topic for the day, and people go at it.

Today’s topic – favorite Disney character. Some individuals are “ghost” writers/answerers for others in the office. (For example, one poor chap had Tinkerbell listed next to his name) Regardless, conversation soon shifted to the best Disney movie of all times, with most of the girls agreeing to Beauty and the Beast. A close second, in everyone’s mind, was The Little Mermaid.

Oh, I wish I could be part of that world – underwater, hanging with a blowfish, an overbearing father, combing my lustrous red hair with a fork. What an awesome life. As we’re talking about The Little Mermaid and the impression it made on our 5- to 10-year-old minds, some word vomit came up.

I admitted that I would practice being Ariel. You know, that scene where she leaps out of the water, landing on a rock, her hair flowing around her with the twitch of her neck, and water cascading around her like a frame. Obviously, I’ve watched this movie a lot.

Anyways, turns out, all the girls in the office did that! I was shocked – I thought it was something that I just did, and quite possibly still do.

I didn’t mention that Justin and I still listen to the soundtrack in the car ;) I saved that for this blog. Haha.

“Sha-la-la-la-la don’t be shy, you gotta go on and try, go on and kiss the girl.” “WHOA-WHOA!”

I love my RSS feeds!

Hi gang.

I'm an RSS feed whore. So to celebrate that fact, check out what I'm reading through my Google RSS Reader on the right. Good times had by all!

Peace. In the Middle East. (OMG, remember when that was so cool to say, like, back in 1991?)

Blog Happy!

So, I've been posting a lot this week. Makes up for a few weeks there when I stopped caring... but never about you, oh loyal reader(s).

I just wanted to "promote" a book I have for sale: Mind Control 2. It's not really my book, it's Justin's, but I'm pretty sure I get the royalities.

So help me help you by purchasing this book. If that makes sense. Hmm...

http://www.lulu.com/content/166443

Yes, a Cricket Violated Me

Yesterday evening, after a particularly stressful day at work, I got to enjoy some quality time with the better half.

For about an hour and a half, I got to play an invigorating game of tennis. By tennis, I mean, hitting the ball back and forth because I suck, and Justin is kind enough to lower his level of playing to match mine.

Anywho, about halfway into the game, tons of crickets start to appear. Like, hundreds. And they jump all over you, and they are getting squashed by tennis balls. Sort of funny.

But right as I’m about to serve to Justin, this cricket comes and hits me in the face, then falls onto my chest. I yelp, try and make him vacate the “chest-ial” region, and he gets stuck inside of my sports bra, right under my left boob. At this point, I have no idea what to do, and I feel him all being crickety on my body.

Justin, meanwhile, is trying to figure out why I suddenly dropped my racquet and started squirming like a worm.

Keep in mind that there are about five other tennis courts in this particular area, and I’m starting to draw attention to myself.

I think at some point, the cricket vacated the premises, but the thought of it “fondling” me made me a little insane, to put it mildly.

So I meet Justin up around the net and explain to him what needs to be done: look up my shirt and sports bra to make sure the stupid cricket isn’t still in there. Ugh, mortifying.

I hate crickets. Especially ones that get caught in your sports bra and fondle you.

I rip off other people's blogs

But I do it with love in my heart...

Adventures in Car Shopping

A few weeks ago, Justin and I learned we would soon have to part with his beloved 1994 coupe. Depending on when its final day exactly is -- it could die tomorrow, or four months from now -- we decided to be informed consumers and spent the day test driving cars.

During the test driving process, you learn a few things about the better half. I would say compromises are made, but this car will be Justin's really, and so my say doesn't matter (well, to be honest, it matters about 20 percent, though not enough to make a difference).

Anyways, I learned I hate smooth-riding sedans. In fact, they piss me off. One of the cars I test drove handled some serious curves with gentle ease. I don't want gentle ease, I want gear-clutching, action-packed handling of curves.

Justin prefers gentle curves, and cute sedans are cute and pleasant to drive. In fact, we were looking through the brochures and his exact specifications were called "sophisticated." Mine, well, I don't know what it was called specifically, but certainly not sophisticated, more like, "Screw You, Bitches, I'm Passing Your Ass."

I'm sure law enforcement probably prefers the sophisticated option, but whatever.

Anyways, here's the front runners:

Jenni: 2007 Acura TL: all the gadgets and electronics a tech nerd like myself would want, with serious curve-handling features. Plus it's the cheapest of the three we drove.

Justin: 2007 Lexus ES 350: Because he is a freakin' pansy and doesn't like change. It's the closest feel to his current coupe.

I would compare our car preferences to other aspects in our life, but that's for a more PG-13 blog. I try to keep it PG, most of the time :)

Today’s random thoughts on:

1. Allergies: My eyes are itching, my nose is ridiculously dry, I think I’m running a fever, and my throat hurts when I swallow. I sense fall allergy season fast approaching!
2. Justin Timberlake’s new album: Oh, he’s definitely bringing sexy back; yum. The album is streaming on The Leak over at MTV, and I’m purchasing this CD on Tuesday. It’s seriously clutch.
3. Working Out: If there was a way for someone else to move my body instead of me doing it, that would be nice.
4. Computers: I really want a new one (just because, which is of course, ridiculous reasoning), but I’m trying to hold out until Vista launches next January – and then maybe a little after that, just so I know it will work well.
5. iPods: Apple is doing another one of their “secret announcements” tomorrow – maybe I’ll give Justin my Video iPod tonight as a “gift” and then purchase whatever they announce tomorrow – I hear it might be a “true” video iPod. I guess that is different than the “false” iPod I currently possess.
6. Walter: My dog is so awesome. There were some people next door from OSU, and they took a picture of my dog in his Longhorn jersey. I took him on a walk through the neighborhood, and we were getting shout outs all morning!

What a man needs?

I’m a girl.

I guess that was established a couple of years back, but I digress.

So I’m watching the movie, What a Girl Wants, on the Oxygen network, and there is this commercial, saying how the station is an all-women’s network and such.

The commercial features women ripping off their shirts to show their bras and it was kinda Super Woman-like.

But, the whole commercial made me think that Oxygen is not geared towards women, but in fact, men who are desperate for action, boobies, feelings, woman-y stuff.

I’d bet the average person, for example, would be surprised at the demographic who watches Sex Talk with Sue Johnson.

Just a thought.

The Bird Flies High

I always get onto Justin about being an aggressive driver.

He’ll take upon himself to “show” people how rude they are – some people call it road rage, I call it stupid, and tell him so anytime we are in the car.

It’s like this:

1. Don’t flash your brights when someone is going slow. Simply wade it out and go around them.
2. Don’t give someone the evil glare while waving your fist, they could pull a gun on you and kill your ass.
3. Don’t block others in the left lane from going fast because you think it is illegal. Let them pass, and I’m sure some happy state trooper will greet them further up the road.
4. While others do not understand the protected right on green concept, there is no need to honk at them until they do not take action for at least 15-20 seconds after the green light has occurred. After that, I polite tap of your horn with a friendly wave should let them know that “no hard feelings, but please go ahead and take that right. Thanks a bunch and peace and love and such!”

I try to live by these ideas, and others, when driving.

But there are occasions when I feel it necessary to “express” my frustrations driving.

Case in point: this evening, after a 10 minute discussion on why I would be the one to fetch the to-go order from Pei Wei. After a long day of work (seriously, LOOOONG) I didn’t feel like fetching the food. For Justin, hitting golf balls outside of his place of work and playing dodgeball in the cubicle area of his office equals extreme physical exhaustion.

Apparently mental exhaustion does not trump physical exhaustion, so I set out to pick up the food. On my way back, I decided to take 290 all the way to the main street to get to my neighborhood. It narrows down to one lane and there is always a back-up.

I do my part, and merge into the left lane with a reasonable amount of space left in front of me. After the lanes merge, I continue my decent off the highway and to the stoplight, only to look in my rearview mirror to see some a-hole barreling down the shoulder.

Sitting in this traffic for 10 minutes, smelling glorious Pei Wei must have pissed me off, because I flicked the guy off. Maybe this will shock some of you, but I had never flicked off another driver before.





Okay, I lie. I have flicked off other drivers before; however, I always did it under the window so they wouldn’t see me. (See point two above) I mean, I don’t even really honk at people unless the really, truly deserve to be honked at. (Reference point four)

So I’m feeling pretty good about myself, until I see the guy slow down and turn to park… and I’m like, “Oh, fudge.”

But it turns out he only parked at the range – the GUN RANGE! OMG! Okay, maybe I overreacted, but I mean, the guy really did have a gun in his car. He could have pulled his gun on me instead of taking out his aggression at the range. I mean, obviously this blog is one big overreaction to life, but seriously, guns scare the heck out of me!

In retrospect, he probably was going too fast to even see my “bird.” But I have learned a most valuable lesson.

My bird is flying back under the radar, err… window, from now on.

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Dream Girl

On Friday night, Justin, myself, and some friends embarked on our yearly trek to H-Town for Dave Matthews Band.

I’ll skip the part about how disappointed we both were with the song selection and general lack of energy we felt the band had, and focus on one specific incident which saved an otherwise boring and expensive concert adventure.

The second song of the night was Dream Girl, and you may, or may not, remember the music video for the song with Julia Roberts. I like the song live, and enjoy listening to it. However, halfway through someone started shrieking like a hyena or something. Looking around, trying to figure out who it was so I could pass the “evil concert glare,” I see this girl crying right behind me, her boyfriend in tears, in fact, a lot of people in tears.

Then I look at Justin, and see he’s tearing up, then he shakes the boyfriend’s hand. I’m a tad slow, and finally figure out at this point he had proposed to his girlfriend during the song. And the shrieking wasn’t even her, it was the couple next to us. Haha.

And, interesting story about the couple next to us – we sat next to them last year at the Selma concert. Small world, or should I say, one sweet world. Okay, I was waiting for an opportunity in this blog to use that sentence. I’ll admit it.

Hurt so good…

After a particularly grueling day of activities at the office (got there at 7:45, left a few minutes before 7… and there was still traffic on MOPAC – go home to your families people!), I came home to a glorious site.

Justin, who will be referred to in this posting as “Man-Wife”, spent the day at home taking care of household chores.

Let me back up to 7:00 a.m. that morning. After getting up earlier (6:00 a.m.) to do some work, and watch Saved by the Bell (the one where Screech and the rest of the gang competes in a beauty pageant), I thought a more gentler approach to waking up “Man-Wife” would be to talk to him until he started talking back, instead of resetting the alarm.

After about two minutes, I begin to get a little agitated, as I need to get to work. Finally he rolls over and says, “I’m going to take a vacation day.”

I was mad, I’ll admit it. I had so much stuff on my plate for work that day, to just hear someone passively dismiss work was upsetting, mainly because I can’t do the same. Call it selfish, childish, rude – I’m all three.

So his butt gets up long enough to e-mail his boss on my still-running computer, and goes back to bed, and Walter follows him to pass out.

But luckily “Man-Wife” went to Central Market for groceries during his day off, and by the time I got home, this gorgeous meal was waiting for me. I mean, Spinach penne pasta, sun-dried tomato sauce, with chunks of fhicken (fake-chicken), topped with three different cheeses. I mean, literally, I walked in the house with a hug and a kiss, food on the table, and a “Man-Wife” who loves me.

Now I know why men like their women at home.

So after that adventure, we go for our weekly (or bi-weekly… just depends on the mood) massages at Massage Envy. There is this couples room, and I always feel more comfortable hanging with “Man-Wife”. Plus, this was the first time I had a guy working on me.

Male massage therapists are probably the most under-utilized. For men getting a massage, to be worked on by another male is insulting to your so-called “manhood.” For women, especially if you are dating or married, it just doesn’t seem right that this guy is getting access to your body typically reserved for your significant other.

But after yesterday’s adventure, I’ll be using male massage therapists for the rest of my life! I’ve never been in so much “good-pain” in my life. I mean, he was tearing into me. I’m so sore today. And being in the same room as “Man-Wife” didn’t make it awkward, because if he tried to cop a feel, I could just be like, “Man-Wife!” and scantly-clad “Man-Wife” lying on the table next to me could save the day. HAHA. What a visual.

I need a brain dump.

Here it goes:

This past weekend we were up in Dallas for a wedding, supplying the SnapHappy cameras for the “happy” occasion. Justin and his buddies at Unfunded Think Tank have a few business plans, and this is one of them. So if you have a wedding/special event coming up, support the cause, and my makeup fetish.

We were also up in Dallas for my grandmother’s 88th birthday. My mom never invites people over or makes a big deal out of it, but it was still a good time. She made this ice cream cake, which was incredibly rich, and I’m pretty sure I gained two pounds on the spot. I always gain weight when I’m in Dallas. Suck.

I also had lunch with my old violin teacher, Ms. V (now Mrs. S, but I’m pretty sure I called her Ms. V the whole time… old habits die hard), who apparently reads my blog! In fact, I learned I have a readership of almost 15 people based on talking with people at the wedding. CLUTCH!

My goal is 50 by the end of the year. So, shout out to all you peeps who read the blog; you are loved.

Bad Days...

I’ve had a bad day, taken one down, sing a sad song just turn it around, something something something…

Kristy left this weekend. I didn’t think I’d actually be sad to see her go – I mean, obviously we enjoyed having her stay with us – but I didn’t think I would feel as sad as I did.

It started by shutting the door after she left, I turned to Justin and gave him a hug. Then he followed up with, “Okay, well, I’m going upstairs to watch TV, later.”

And I just stood there, watching him walk up the stairs, and thought, “Who am I going to watch television with now?”

Kristy is WAY ADDICTED to Law and Order, and in our short time together (three months), I became slightly addicted to the SVU and CI versions of the series. And Sunday, as I’m flipping through the channels, trying to find something to watch, I come across a marathon of SVU, AND FELT NOTHING.

It was sad, truly. I can’t even watch Law and Order without her now.

And the true test will be if I can even remember to tune into Project Runway tonight, another group favorite.

I mean, who else am I going to fail miserably with when attempting another run at “The Crunch Dance Party?”

So I’ve talked about with Justin, and we’ve decided we need a roommate. I just can’t go on living like this. It’s been three days now, and it’s horrible.

We’re currently taking applications. The room and board will be cheap – we’ll even barter. Thanks.

The intriguing weekend

I guess that I had a fairly productive weekend. I mean, I sat around a lot, worked out a little, and saw some fairly interesting things.

Interesting thing #1:
I was getting my hair cut on Saturday (and maybe my hair colored… which by the way, I accidentally went blond… whoops!) and this little girl was sitting next to me with her mom. Her mom had some fried out blond hair, will have skin cancer by the age of 40, and was wearing too much makeup.

The daughter? Well, she had the most gorgeous brunette hair, was eight years old, and getting platinum blond highlights for the first time. I was so pissed off. I mean, I guess ultimately it is the mother’s decision to do that to her daughter, but geez, wait until she is in middle school, not when she just completed the second grade.

Interesting thing #2:
This guy at Kirbey Lane South looked like my granddad. Probably not that interesting, but I thought so J

Interesting thing #3:
Mexican Vanilla ice cream and the fat free/sugar free yogurt version at Amy’s Ice Cream is about the same. Maybe not as creamy, but still dang good.

Interesting thing #4:
Matrix Three isn’t as bad as people told me was (cough cough, my husband). I mean the almost grotesque use of “g-dang” is borderline ridiculous, but take that out (and this weird nipple scene) and it isn’t half bad ;)

Interesting thing #5:
The Crunch Dance Party workout video confirmed what I already knew: I am not capable of any type of dance moves. I stopped after twenty minutes and did pilates instead. It made me feel better.


Anyways, I have a headache and I’m about to go to bed! Night!

#28!

Walter is the best dog ever. I think we have established that with extensive evidence.

Friday was a bad day, because I found out Walter might have a fatal disease. But I don't want to talk about it because it makes me sad.

What I do want to talk about it how effin' cool my dog is!

Case in point:

OMG, my dog is so awesome... I had the jersey specially made for him, and hopefully at the start of the football season, he'll be wearing it every Saturday, and on the first day Vince Young plays for the Titans.

Go long Walter!

Jenni's Gone Viral!

Hi guys,
As most of you know, I work for a PR agency and I do a variety of activities on the behalf of some pretty cool clients. My team has launched a viral Web site for one of our clients, Smoothie King, and I encourage you to check it out, sign up, submit a video and forward videos onto your friends. Here's the link: http://www.extremecastingcall.com

If you dont participate on my behalf, then do it for the prizes! If your audition gets chosen as a winner (Ted, this is calling your name!!!), you could win one of three fabulous prizes! Heck, if you forward on videos to your friends, youre also eligible to enter for prizes!

Unfortunately, if you are related to me (Becky, Kennie, Robbie, and Kristy, my sincerest apologies) you are not able to win anything, but for those of you with no Jenni or Justin blood flowin through your veins, you are eligible.

AND FORWARD ON TO YOUR FRIENDS. PLEASE!!!! Even relatives!!! Put a link on your page, do something!!! I want this to go viral and be showcased on the Web shows on VH1! Ha!

So ham it up folks, and visit http://www.extremecastingcall.com for more information on how to enter!

Babies, and how I'm not having any :(

Justin had the wonderful opportunity to baby sit Colin (shown here), a very cute, adorable and active cousin of his, while Colin’s mom and I went shopping.

I don’t think Justin quite knew what he was getting into, as he willingly offered to watch Colin. Someday, Justin is going to make a terrific dad, and I’m incredibly excited about the prospects of having adorable little red heads running around our house someday. But now is not the time.

By the time we returned five hours later, Justin didn’t even get a chance to say hello or bye, as he ran away.

Yes, he ran away, went to go chill out by purchasing baseball cards. It was almost comical really – he looked fried. Colin on the other hand, was still going strong, running around in nothing but a t-shirt and diapers.

After Justin returned, I was informed I (he said “I” referring to me, but really, I think he was referring to himself) am not ready to have children, saying I couldn’t handle that. He’s the one that ran out the second we got home. Nerd.

HAHAHA… I was like, seriously Justin, it isn’t like the Lord has women popping out two-year olds. That’s why you have a nine-month incubation period, and the baby starts off tiny and grows into a crazy kid. It’s so you have time to adjust.

So my attempts to have babies, quit my job, etc. have been foiled for the next two to four years, as I could not handle it. Dang it.

Boohiss!

I’m in a writing rut.

Rarely am I at a loss of words for my blog. More often than not, I rely on my blog writing to jumpstart the writing that I get paid to do; alas, it appears that the tables have turned.

I’ve knocked out three draft press releases this week and some web copy, painlessly I might add. Usually it would take me days, weeks, kick in the pants by an individual known as Mighty Tejana. It’s like, gross, really, how much stuff I have jammed out on this week.

I mean, usually the blog is almost this epicenter of all the crappy crap in my head that I have to get out in order to write decent stuff. Now, I have no crap in my head to spill.

Instead, I’m left with a willingness to actually write stuff I’m supposed to write on.

This doesn’t make any sense, which of course, is perfect, because I’d rather be writing nonsensical items here instead of somewhere else.

God Bless America… and Mexican Beer!

I guess the Fourth has different meaning for everyone, and I’m no different.

There are parents praying for the safe return of their sons and daughters from Iraq, war veterans recalling previous battles and what they fought for, while others find it an opportunity to celebrate a day off from work for fun, food, and drunkenness.

But for me, I find it a chance to reflect on my granddad, who passed away five years ago today. I always have a rough go at it in the weeks leading up to the Fourth, I guess because his death was the first and only passing I’ve ever witnessed. To be honest, I hope I never see something like that again, but I suppose I’m lucky to have lived to 19 and never witnessed someone dying in front of you.

So this morning, I woke up, cried a little, remembered what a true American stands for, and spent the day with Ashley and her family out in Comfort. I was thinking about going home to Dallas, but I had to work yesterday, and I found out my mom had to work. That and my family never talks, reflects, discusses the Fourth and Gramps’ passing, so I figured, what’s the point?

Comfort, Texas is about an hour and a half southwest of Austin, between Kerrville and San Antonio on I-10. It’s a beautiful drive through the Hill Country, and there is nothing quite like a serene 70-mph drive on Hwy. 290 through Johnson City and Fredericksburg while listening to Madonna and Kelly Clarkson. Haha. God bless crappy, yet awesome pop music.

I got there in time to see a traditional July Fourth parade, complete with “Little Miss Comfort” pageant contestants and their floats. After a few good laughs at the fake waves these girls were tossing out to the crowd, I quickly realized they must be taught to wave like corpses. I also learned that a horizontal oval looks much better in presentation than the more common circle wave.

But probably the best float/parade moment was the Mexican float. Now, I hate being stereotypical, but this totally went down!

So, their float was just a big trailer, not decorated, with people just sitting in the float, not really doing anything. And
instead of throwing candy to the children like the rest of the floats, they had coolers filled to the brim with, take a guess, Mexican beer. AND they were passing the stuff out to the crowd along the streets!! HAHAHAHAHA! I couldn’t stop laughing, and if I had thought before I left my house the morning, I totally would have grabbed my camera for a blog picture opportunity!

Only in Texas would that stuff go down, and only a city south of Waco and outside of the Bible Belt would something like this be approved as a valid parade float. HAHAHA.

So, happy Fourth -- and happy shortened work week!