Friday, February 25, 2005

Coop! What happened to Jen?!?

I've been thinking about the good old days lately. Way back when times were simpler, when worries were few, when my friends weren't having babies all over the place: junior high and early high school. And since I didn't have any great times, to speak of, I've been reminicing about my forms of entertainment during those years. Recently, thanks to Netflix, I caught up on four years of The X-Files episodes in a span of less than two months. I'm now an expert! That was the 1993-2002 high school/college/grad school time span. Now I'm planning on regressing even further into my past: Twin Peaks BABY!!!

I recently stumbled onto "The Autobiography of F.B.I. Special Agent Dale Cooper: My Life, My Tapes" and read it in maybe an hour. I can't believe I didn't read it 15 years ago! Now I'm going to have a personal Twin Peaks party just like I used to host all those years ago. I recall having Liz (of Lusty Lizzard fame) over to watch all the tapes. I think maybe Nora was invited as well (I decided to wait until she called me on her own to talk to her's going on 15 years; not much of a loss with that friendship!) We would have strong, black coffee, donuts, and cherry pie and just zone out in front of the tube while reciting lines "Coop! What happened to Josie?" Those were good times.

I'll take crappy conversations for $1000, Alex...

I was having a wonderful day so far: a few good cups of coffee warming up my bod, a smooth drive in, today is Friday, etc... and just now, in the coffee room an attorney strikes up a conversation with me about Jeopardy. It went something like this:

Him: You know, if you got more questions right on Jeopardy! you might be in Aruba right now.
Me: (With a sigh) I knew all the answers; I just wasn't fast enough. You can know everything in the world, the only thing that matters is how fast you buzz in.

Then I explained how a contestant is penalized if they ring in before the question is finished being read.

Him: Well, you're still not in Aruba.
Me: Things could be worse. Instead of being here I could be living under a bridge.
Him: There's still a chance for that.
Me: Definitely, I know it. I'm a realist.

That's the one detail the game show people leave out during greenroom discussions: you'll never have non-Jeopardy related idle awkward chit-chat again. Everyone who knows me knows that I dislike talking about my experience all these years later. Within a year of the show, fine; 2+ years later, not fine. It's depressing and it plants inside my head all the "woulda coulda shoudas" that I can't go back in time and fix.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

My lair...

I now have the perfect writer's lair! A few weeks ago, my dad set up the spare, slower computer in the basement and almost instantly I discovered the atmosphere I've been searching for. It's a great place. It's a lair, a cave, a subterranean creative depository, it's perfect. It's dark, located adjacent to the furnace so it's warm, and full of interesting sounds such as the furnace turning on and off, the sump pump doing it's watery thang, and the beer refrigerator's steady hum. It's almost like a womb!

I even found a comfy terrycloth bathrobe in the laundry room downstairs, so my writer's lifestyle is nearly complete.

Check out Neil Gaiman. He's definitely a kindred spirit. Check out his lair!

Wednesday, February 23, 2005


I have made a slight, tiny, little bit of progress on my "countdown to 30" list. Last night I went to Target for shampoo, scented candles and a Glamour magazine, and of course I got sidetracked by the bathing suits. I tried on this lovely number and the matching bottoms (with thankfully faux bows at the sides; wouldn't want any accidents!) and had a near-death experience.
Okay, I didn't see a light at the end of a long tunnel and my deceased relatives reaching out to me, but it was damn close. Basically, I'm about 50 times whiter than the model in the picture. I looked freshly exhumed; super white and veiny. The overhead fluorescent lighting wasn't doing me any favors as well. The fact that I tried on a small when I'm definitely a medium was a negative factor as well. I'm 9 pounds away from my Weight Watcher's goal and 18 pounds away from my personal goal of 100 pounds, so maybe after I reach that milestone--and get a serious MysticTan--the bikini in public dream will be realized.

Monday, February 21, 2005

Dr. Claw...

Every morning I ride the People Mover from my parking structure to my building. Usually the people I ride with are your normal, run-of-the-mill business people, but lately I've been encountering this lady who is driving me absolutely crazy. Let me preface my next comments by saying that I'm actually a really nice person, honest. I'm not a horrible, evil, vicious slug.

I usually ignore everyone on the train but I can't help but notice this lady: she has four-inch long fingernails. Long, thick, curled, real human fingernails. They are painted pink with different sparkly designed decals on each finger. Truly nasty and disturbing. Last week was the first time I noticed her out of the corner of my eye and I was instantly nauseated. She's always doing something with her fingers that completely baffles me. Like searching through her purse for her cell phone or opening up a piece of gum. On Friday, I began to wonder how she buttons her coat in the morning, or how she ties her shoes or even washes her hair without a major incident. This morning, things got worse. The poor lady has a cold and was blowing her nose. Unfortunately, I got to wondering how she manages to use a tissue without stabbing herself in the eyes. Then I realized that she couldn't possibly wear gloves. She could maybe wear some kind of oven mitt, but she'd probably end up looking like she had flipper hands, like a thalidomide baby. Thanks to that horrible thought, I chuckled to myself and probably earned a one-way ticket to hell.

So, to make matters even worse, I'm now calling her Dr. Claw.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

I'm officially an adult now...

A little bit of my youth has just died. Who knows when this happened, but MTV no longer has 120 Minutes!!!!!! Some of my fondest memories of my teenage years involved taping 120 Minutes every Sunday night (or actually staying up until 2:00 AM) and catching videos from The Cure, They Might be Giants, Talking Heads and other awesome bands from my youth. I remember the first time I watched it: I was a freshman in HS and had just returned home from my Bacci's funeral. I remember turning on MTV and catching the video to the Stone Roses "I Want to be Adored." I was instantly hooked.

Ah, good times.

Now it's all ride pimping, Ashlee Simpson and Real World shit.

My dirty little secret...

Anyone who knows me or has ever seen me knows that I have a tendency to wear predominately dark clothing. Basic black with greys and blues. Not because I think that black is slimming or anything like that; I just gravitate toward dark colors. That being said, I must admit there is a corner of my heart dedicated to my love of Lilly Pulitzer clothing. Lilly dresses are usually in bright happy pastels, bold rich colors, loud shocking patterns, and are usually extremely expensive, so when I break down and purchase an item, it's usually once a year and on super sale. In my collection I have the following:
--A fushia corduroy skirt with embroidered lime green palm trees
--A navy blue cord. skirt with embroidered lime green whales
--A ridiculous fushia pair of pants with multicolored embroidered mallards
--A lovely sea green fine wale cord. dress with fushia and white daisies and spaghetti straps.
and my most current addition to the collection purchased yesterday:
--a strapless, multicolored patchwork-style dress...AND IT GLOWS IN THE DARK!!!
This new dress is also extra special because it was originally $196.00 and I purchased it for the incredibly low price of...$15.00! That over 90% off!!! Now I'll need to find an occasion to wear it! It's not a Saturday afternoon supermarket shopping dress. It's more like Sunday brunch in the Hamptons. Oh, bother.

The only problem with this collection is wearing the pieces. I stick out like a sore thumb...a really adorable sore thumb.

Friday, February 18, 2005


So, I guess I figured out how to post a picture from a web site onto my blog. Now I've got that warm feeling of self-satisfaction running though my veins as I type this. Or maybe that's the alcohol. I don't plan on this blog becoming a huge picture posting party; maybe just a once in a while thing. I've looked around at other pages and some are just way too crowded with pics, others share way too much information. I do plan on including pictures in my "Countdown to 30" page. Maybe just as documentation. That page really needs to be livened up.

In other news, I have signed up for and will be giving it a try for one month. I probably couldn't afford any longer commitment as it is $49.95 a month. So far, things have been interesting, but I'm not sure if the whole online dating thing appeals to me anymore. I'm beginning to think that all people suck and I should be living in a cave somewhere. I'll learn how to reproduce by budding.

One more thing: in the span of three hours today at work, I managed to spill ink, strong tea and blood onto my khakis. I think these might be "play clothes" from now on.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

This is not a pair of pants...apologies to R. Magritte

I'm working on posting pictures. I'm trying, honest. I needed to find a picture of something online as a test and the word "penguin" popped into my head. Couldn't possibly understand why. Oh well, these are lovely pants from Penguin Clothing. I seem to recall my Grandpa wearing Penguin style shirts and now Brad Pitt has become their celebrity spokesman and now I easily find brownish plaid Penguin pants with ease, instead of a picture of an actual penguin that I was originally shooting for.


Droopy drawers...

Okay, I'd never actually say "droopy drawers" in polite company, or any company for that matter, but I really couldn't resist. I have officially lost 22.5 pounds and nothing fits me anymore! I just discovered that my undies are getting baggy! The skirt I'm currently wearing is staying up due to otherworldly forces (and maybe friction thanks to the nylons,) and the lovely gray cashmere sweater I'm wearing is just too damn roomy. My favorite bra, which I'm also currently wearing is too big...and there have been problems due to cup-size vacancy lately.

And what's worse: I really don't look very good. After I lose another 10 pounds, I should get a total hair and makeup makeover.

One more thing: if anyone is actually reading this, can you explain how to post pictures on I'm having difficulties with the how-to instructions in the help section.

Monday, February 14, 2005

Poor Planning...

I've been posting to this blog quite a bit lately, and that's fine with me. Since I don't have any human and/or non-imaginary friends, I need to vent somewhere.

For some reason, the maintenance staff in my building started a restroom-related project this morning instead of, say, Friday night when no one is in the building, especially gals like me who use the restroom fifty times a day. The restroom is unusable until tomorrow due to some grout-curing magic that needs to occur. Since my bladder is roughly the size of the thimble piece in a Monopoly game, I've been running up a flight of stairs every half hour. This is getting aggravating. I would use the restroom on my floor, but if the grout issue is toilet-related, and if I should happen to break a toilet, this is the kind of thing people don't forget about. I still remember the names of two fat girls who broke a chair and a desk in grade school (I'm still laughing on the inside) and that's just plastic, metal and wood. If I broke a toilet, that's porcelain and metal pipe! A bit difficult to ignore! Not to mention the flooding that would probably occur, just my luck!

Happy VD...

Although this is a non-holiday for me, I did invest in some candy--Bittersweets "Valentine's Candies for the Dejected." I bought them from Despair, Inc. They're little conversation candy hearts with horrible little sayings such as:
And my personal favorite:

And to further celebrate my singlehood, I have a book discussion group meeting tonight. I love this group; me and the Babas (I should semi-clarify and say bushas or babushkas.) Seriously, I'm the only member without grandchildren. The book of the month is The DaVinci Code, and since everyone and their uncle has read this, or at least knows the basics of the plot, I won't have to carry the group with the discussion. I can't stand dead silence in a group gathered on their own accord. I have a tendency to pity the moderator in these instances.

Hopefully, next month's selection will be something a bit more less well known. It probably won't be. At the group meeting last month, several of the participants were freaking out over the availability of the chosen books at the library. They couldn't wrap their minds around the notion of buying a book brand new. It was quite frustrating, actually. This is one of the problems of holding a free book discussion group at a public library; certain individuals can't put forth the extra effort of finding the book on their own.

Hopefully my attitude will get adjusted before 7:00 tonight...or there will be trouble (with a capital 'T' that rhymes with 'B' that stands for Book--that was a shout out to Kate...and Shirley Jones--Marion the Librarian.)

Friday, February 11, 2005

Grabbing life by the testes...

Right now it is 6:12. Friday night. I'm at Wayne's law library. And I'm the only student around. I'm working on assignments pertaining to human rights watches and Nobel Prizes laureates in Economics. When I get home (and in this neighborhood, I should include an IF), I'm writing reports. Then I'll feed Turtle. Then I'm going to bed and shall have a restless brain sleep. Then I'll wake up, weigh myself (!), and drink a cup of coffee. Then I'll probably go to the library again. Then I'm going to class. Then I'm buying several black mix-and-match wardrobe pieces. Shit, how did my existence get so pathetic!

I'm getting the writer's itch again. This particular quiet phase in my life might actually be a blessing in disguise. I really need to start thinking about things differently. If I was married, I might never be left alone again. Add a baby into the equation and it's not pretty. The revelation earlier this week that my old college roomie Christine is "with child" was a bit of a stunner. She always wanted to be married and a few years ago met Mike and had a great wedding. I never exactly saw her with children, although I've seen her maybe three times since I graduated, so I really don't know her that well anymore. A child would make my life completely...shattered.

The grammar is definitely lacking right now and I'm getting sleepy. I'm sitting next to a window that peeks into the law school and I'm zoning. I really must be heading toward the government documents department (wooohooo!)

In perkier news, I have better feelings toward Hortensia. Maybe she's in grad school herself, writing papers on Friday night. I wonder what life is like in the parallel universe. I wonder what she's doing right now; is she studying, preparing to become a chef or an astronaut or drinking alone on Friday night? Parallel me couldn't wander too far off course because then she wouldn't be my twin. Of course, the same goes for me. Maybe we're connected by an invisible, cosmic umbilical cord and when something good, decent, or bad happens to one of us, the twin is also affected.

No, I'm not going completely mental. I'm just exploring some interesting topics for another potential novel. Parallel universes and the chick-lit genre. Any potential readers out there?!?!? The topic I'm currently running with is communication with the dead and chick-lit. I don't believe I've run across any of those while doing my research (reading anything in Border's recommended reading paperback fiction section under $12.00.)

Okay, off to gov docs!

Even the universe hates me...

I am in competition with my theoretical doppelganger. Yes, that's correct. I made the mistake of reading about parallel universes and dimensions all that jazz and now I'm trying to one-up my twin. What if I'm actually the evil one (like Cartman on that episode of South Park) and the other me is living my perfect life? She's successful and happy and this messed up thought would never enter into her pretty, well-coiffed head. I should name her--Hortensia. That's my official teratoma name and since it's definitely in the twin family (yeah, it's a stretch) it should work.

Imagine if she's sitting at an old, nasty desk in a bland office wondering what the hell went wrong right about now. Wouldn't that be a cosmic kick in the ass?

Monday, February 07, 2005


As someone who was raised Catholic, I always give something up for Lent. Although I'm for the most part a non-practicing Catholic with some culturally Jewish leanings, I will still give something up. So far it's chocolate, nuts (tree and ground) and drinking caffeinated beverages in the afternoon and evening.

This religion issue is really bothering me, as of late. I'm part of a serious Polish Catholic family and was raised with church every Sunday, no matter what. Having a Polish Pope was a major plus. Twelve years of Catholic school later and I don't know where I stand. My beliefs have started to get in the way. Let's see: I believe priests should marry, women should have a more important role in the church and that evolution occurred. I also have certain beliefs in the Gnostic Gospels, the belief in extraterrestrial life, and much, much more. Strangely, stumbling onto the book "Chariots of the Gods" while a freshman at Bishop Foley started me on the road to curiosity. I was quite versed in "Project Blue Book" speculation after that year.

At the same time, I'm quite intrigued by church mysteries. Stigmatas, visions, the Shroud of Turin, Lourdes, Fatima and religious relics. I also am drawn toward very traditional religious celebrations and observances: Latin mass, incense, fasting and abstinence, stained glass and statues, pipe organs, tabernacles, and masses without guitars, tambourines and children's choirs.

I'm confused.

Friday, February 04, 2005

Creature of the night...

"Touch-a touch-a touch-a touch me
I wanna be dirty
Thrill me, chill me, fulfill me
Creature of the night"

How the hell did this song get caught in my head??? I haven't seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show in years!! I listened to Drew and Mike (and the "Magnolia" soundtrack during commercials) this morning, yet the first thing that lands in my brain is this irritating song! Granted, it's a pretty fun and catchy song, and if I ever learn to play guitar, I'd play this at open-mike nights at the coffee house.

Yeah, I'll probably be unconciously humming (or even better yet singing) this in the library today, someone will overhear, and the next thing you know, I'll be an overnight sensation in the library science community. Hmm, that might not be too bad for the librarian stereotype.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

I've got the itch...

I'm itchy today. Maybe it's just regular winter-in-Michigan winter itch, but maybe it's a symptom of lymphoma. I'm due for another biopsy soon. Stupid lymph system.

It's been an uber-shitty day today. My library name-date book/mail stamper decided to die on me. It dramatically fell apart, leaving me all alone with a pile of mail to stamp. Damn office supply abandoner. Then I've been itchy all day. And more than a little dizzy/woozy, and I forgot my lunch at home, and my attention span was functioning at 35% I'm feeling a bit on the edge, thanks to the lingering specter of cancer and the lamprey-like quality of dissatisfaction with my career/existence.

I'm probably just dramatic right now. It's almost time to go home. Hooray for I-75 rush hour!

Then I get to work on my homework.