Best date ever...

After getting dolled up last night in my little black dress from Petite Sophisticate and cute new Chinese Laundry shoes (black and white houndstooth mules-I can't locate a pic. of these anywhere; they might be from last year) and locating my Trivial Pursuit game (he requested it,) I met M. at his house, exchanged pleasantries, and headed out with him to the Detroit Film Theater. We watched "Mondovino", and now I know more about the globalization of the wine trade than I ever needed to know. Then we went for Thai (we split Pad Thai, satay and fresh rolls) and went back to his place for Trivial Pursuit. He's as big a trivia geek as me. And somehow, someway, I actually lost!!! I've never lost at Trivial Pursuit before in my life!!! I've never had a worthy competitor!

I accumulated all the pie pieces early in the game, way before him, and got stuck with crappy questions while getting to the middle of the board. He then caught up quickly and got to the middle two spaces ahead of me and somehow answered correctly a question about harness racing. What the hell???

It was a really great date. No lull in the conversation at all. We have a ridiculous amount of stuff in common (when our families left Poland, our senses of humor, our Thai food preferences) but not enough to feel like I'm dating myself. Just someone very similar to myself, only without all the annoying details I dislike about myself.

A bit more than a peck at the end of the night, but I'm not complaining. :)

I really hope I hear from him again!

t-minus one hour and counting...

and I have to puke. I can't believe I'm actually nervous! Here's a list of things I've done in preparation for the first official date of 2005 (how sad):

--did a protein treatment on my hair (around 10:30.)
--washed and conditioned my hair again around 4:00.
--went to Target, purchased new underwear, earings and eyeshadow (that Almay eye color enhancers so my greens will stand out.)
--polished fingernails, toenails, and scrubbed my heels with a pumice stone.
--Actually remembered to shave my legs. The 'stash was adequately dealt with yesterday morning (ugh, Nair.)

I'm trying not to be a spaz. I was waaayyy too much caffiene in the system right now!

Howl...

This whole post is one big, fat, hairy TMI. Consider yourself warned!!!
My sister and I have been cursed with lycanthropic issues. It's something that affects just the two of us; no one else in the family. We don't know who we inherited this gift from. We've been polling all the women in the family about their frequency of shaving. The usual reply is "Two or three weeks or whenever needed. I have light baby hair on my legs anyway." Grrr. Many family members, both male and female have no leg hair at all! For Kate and me, especially in the summer, we sometimes need to shave twice a day. Nasty.

And then there's the moustache issue.

I purchased this stuff a few months ago and haven't had much luck. It's only supposed to take about three minutes to dissolve all the upper-lip fuzz. Well, after five minutes all the fuzz is still there. And so is the lingering Nair stink. I'm worried to leave it on any longer, for fear of becoming what Kate refers to as "Captain Red Lip" (her secret identity which she assumed a few Christmas Eves ago. Yow, that was a seriously funny burn!) I'm leery about getting a lip wax this afternoon after my failed chemical attempt of this morning, but I don't want to have any serious facial shortcomings for Saturday.

Another issue I have with this Nair stuff is the fact that all the instructions were on the cardboard package, NOT on the actual tube. I threw out the packaging after I bought it. The back of the tube is dedicated to advising users to try a test patch prior to usage, and warnings such as "Do not use on breast nipples." As opposed to the other kind???

At least I don't have the eyebrow issue...sorry Kate.

This is quite unexpected...

Unbelievable. I have a date for Saturday night! I re-joined Match.com a week or two ago just to see what happens, "winked" at a nice, interesting guy and have been exchanging emails for the past few days. I'm not planning on jinxing myself like I've done so many times in the past, so I'll only share the briefest of information:
1. He's 31.
2. A teacher at a local private school.
3. Has a great sense of humor.
4. Has a Ph.D in American Literature, so he's extremely well read.

Now I have to hit T.J. Maxx or Marshalls for a cute, stylish yet inexpensive springy/summer skirt. I'm doing this the right way! Maybe I'll get that MysticTan as well.

I'm allowed to look, right?

I'm not planning on getting married anytime soon, but if the unthinkable were to happen and Mr. Wonderful suddenly appears, this is the dress I'd pick. You can't tell from the picture, but it's tea length (above the ankles) and comes in a choice of white or ivory. I'm not sure, but ivory would probably look better with my skin tone. The best part: it's only $299 and my mom gets a discount at David's Bridal.



I've been to my share of weddings where the bride's dress costs at least $750, the reception with 500 guest probably totals at least $10,000 (I'm just guessing, probably on the low side) and that's not counting the photographer, limos, flowers, church/justice of the peace, hair and makeup. In my perfect fantasy world, Mr. Wonderful and I, along with our closest friends and family would get hitched in a small, yet meaningful ceremony and have a lovely reception at a warm, cozy restaurant...I'm talking about White Castle, of course.

Jennifer Wonderful? I'm keeping my maiden name.

Polish overload...

Within the last 24 hours, I have really started getting absorbed in my Polish heritage. After work yesterday I drove to Hamtramck, shopped at Polish Market, bought some tea that I hope I read correctly as raspberry, stopped at Polonia Restaurant for a nice big bowl of Czarnina (duck's blood soup--sounds gross but is actually quite delicious,) and went to St. Florian's for a mass for the Pope and was lucky enough to catch the rosary beforehand--all of which were in Polish. I do not speak Polish (and only catch 1 out of every 100 words) and was feeling guilty, so this afternoon I bought a "Polish in Four Weeks" study book and CD. It's actually "Polish in One Year if you don't have 2.5 hours to dedicate to daily study."

I am a rock, yet squishy on the inside...

I am finished with N. I initially called him Mr. It Will All End In Tears, but no tears will be shed. It's not worth it, he's not worth it, and I deserve better but I'm not looking anymore. I called him yesterday afternoon to see how he was doing and left a message on his machine. No call back. He has no intention of calling back or making any further contact, I'm sure. What an ass! Am I such a horrible
person to have as a friend??? Dating someone who lives 150 miles away is a ridiculous idea, but maintaining a friendship is much easier. Making the transition from semi-dating to being/becoming friends must be too difficult for some people.

I am sick and tired of being used and abused by people. I always let it happen. It will never happen again. I wish I could go back in time, back to early March when I was hanging out alone, having Twin Peaks parties alone and being perfectly happy and content alone. I think tomorrow I'll go to see "Fever Pitch." It seems pretty funny and upbeat, something I need at this point in my life. Unfortunately, it's a date movie, so maybe it's not that great of an idea. Then after seeing the movie, I'll try to accomplish something on my "Countdown to 30" list. I'm thinking about spending the night outside, but it may be a bit too chilly this time of the year. Maybe I'll buy that digital camera or iPod. I'll definitely be finishing "Atlas Shrugged" this weekend.

Quien es esa nina?

I just found this picture from a zillion years ago. The differences between the 1997 me and the Jen of today are as follows:
1. My hair is no longer orange.
2. I am, more or less, completely blindingly white. No strange tanlines.
3. Mi Hermana Kate stole back her Bare Naked Ladies sunglasses.
4. I haven't been at a football game since I graduated.
5. I am way too old for that strappy tank look.
6. I am not harboring a crush on a math professor, as I was when the pic. was taken. I was hoping to see him at the game, while casually reading something I thought would look impressive. I no longer read to impress. That may have been the only time in my life I ever did that. Earlier in the year, I would pack my math textbooks and actually do homework during the game, but that was mostly due to the fact that I loathe football and had friends in the band.

Apart from that, I'm still a bit funny-looking.

Disqualified...

Here's the little fucker that ruined my future plans:



Damn you, you little piece of plastic, metal and microcrystalline suspension of albuterol!!!

Prince of Darkness...

Mr. ITAEIT (see previous posts) surfaced yesterday afternoon after having just been written off as another abandoning bastard. He called me around 6:00, but I was not available. At the time I was getting drunk on the clean smells of spring and the sensations of wearing flip flops for the first time all year. It was absolutely gorgeous outside, so I flip flopped around our palatial estate checking out the state of the greenery. It will be a few weeks until the lilacs start blooming, but the buds are quite promising for now. I'm buying a digital camera this weekend, so I'll be able to post pics!!!

Anyway, I spoke with N. (for brevity's sake) later on last night. I'm not sure if he was putting on a cheerful facade the few times we've met and spoken in the past, but he is definitely not doing that anymore. He's now basically the Angel of Death. The Prince of Darkness. Bitter and angry. I asked if he was speaking with anyone like a therapist and expressed concern for his health and well-being. He is definitely someone in need of a vacation. Usually when I start getting all doom and gloomy, any current relationship is headed straight into the shitter. Depressive states repel guys like Kryptonite. It's happened zillions of times in the past, but now that the roles have been reversed I don't think I'll run away.

Why Can't I Catch a Break? Part 7623 or My Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Life

Yesterday afternoon I spoke with an Air Force recruiter...and was instantly disqualified for any kind of military service. Why, one might ask? Because I had used an asthma inhaler (even once) since the age of 12. Okay, after thinking it over, this is a good reason to be disqualified, but I use the damn inhaler maybe a few times a year and am not dependent on it. I don't use it every day or every week or even every month. I don't take it with me during a run. Usually it sits in the drawer of my bedside table and I find it a few times a year while cleaning. I use it in the winter mostly and only when completely necessary.

So now, I'm lost again. As usual.

Today hasn't been the most spectacular day. I needed a cup of coffee, couldn't locate my travel mug, somehow located a few bucks and made my way to Tim Horton's. Ended up spilling coffee on my crotch. Then, after finishing the coffee I "rolled up the rim to win" and didn't win anything. As usual. If I had won even a single Tim Bit, my day would be all sunshine and flowers and rainbows. But I didn't win anything.

So now I'm probably sterile or infertile.

Of course, I'm probably not. TMI Alert: As of yesterday afternoon I am profoundly not pregnant. Of course there was a 100% chance of that, but I got to wondering...within the last month I had been X-rayed, CAT-scanned and injected with dye, exposed to tons of sick people, a fair amount of alcohol and other secondhand substances. If I had been pregnant, what would that fetus be like? In eight months would I be holding the child and thinking "Well, he's got my eyes and my nose...and The Incredible Hulk's greeninsh hue and muscle tone?"

Sigh.

Do widzenia...

In honor of the Pope's passing this afternoon, I was going to have a special dinner at the Polish Cultural Center...then decided that I had Polish food way too many times last week, so I ordered (and absorbed) a huge order of Pad Thai with beef. Incredible! Then I felt like crap because my secondary plans for a nice "zimne piwo" (cold beer) were dashed by the absence of any Zwiec in the basement fridge right by my writer's lair. The closet I could find--imported and full bodied--was Foster's. Things are just not shaping up this evening.

Being part of a large Polish Catholic family, this is a rough time. My sister called me sniffling and I had to remind her that the Pope isn't suffering and I had to ask her if she would want to prolong the inevitable. Needless to say that conversation didn't last too long. It's also my Grandma's birthday today and I've been calling to wish her a good one. She's not answering the phone and I don't like leaving messages on the machine. She really didn't want to share her birthday with his death-day. A bit morbid. I'm sure she wanted the passing to be either yesterday or tomorrow. One really can't plan these things.

I was on Pope watch all yesterday afternoon and night, then a bit this morning before running my Saturday errands (getting an oil change, going to Target, going to Starbucks, visiting the recruiter and meeting a VERY VERY VERY persuasive Army recruiter...and the fact that he was in full fatigues (*sigh*) didn't help matters) but I was paying attention to news reports on news/talk radio the whole time. Then for a brief window I left my media-saturated existence and went to Meijer and missed the big moment...so now I'm feeling slightly guilty. Especially for the fact that I was listening (and singing along) to Blondie's "Rapture" all the way home.

80 Days...

After the events of the past few weeks and after going to bed before 8:00 for the past few days, I think the minor funk/depressive state I fell into is finally lifting. Maybe everything really is a learning experience. Here is a list of things I have learned recently:

1. Don't go out with married guys with tons of baggage, especially if they secretly have no plans to ever see you again.
2. Don't pay too much attention to the plight of people in persistent vegetative states; it will just make your own semi-vegetative state less enjoyable.
3. Don't spend too much time watching "Fight Club" even though it is one of the greatest movies of all time. It will mess with the head during the difficult times. Just skipping to the last scenes is completely acceptable, though.
4. Don't use the weekly Loreal Preference haircolor protectant/deep conditioner on weekdays. Your hair will look slightly greasy all day.
5. Don't listen to Aimee Mann's "Save Me" over and over and over. It's just not a good idea. You've just got to save yourself!
6. Don't spend an entire day thinking about ways to make a difference in the world, unless you're really serious about it.

#6 is where I am stuck right now. #6 is the Air Force idea that has been rattling around in my brain for several years now...and I will come to a decision about it in exactly 80 days. I'm turning 28 on June 20th, exactly 80 days from now, and after tons of soul searching and getting my ass in shape will I make up my mind.

So far here are the pros:
1. I am single.
2. I have no children.
3. I have no felonies.
4. Other than family, I have no major ties to the area.
5. I'm afflicted by wanderlust.
6. I'm looking to pare down my possessions.
7. I don't have serious issues with authority.
8. I love wearing snappy uniforms.
9. I love men in snappy uniforms.
10. I won't have to cut off all my hair!
11. There is a 95% chance I won't get sent to Iraq.
12. I have two completed degrees and easily qualify for the officer program.
13. I won't be leaving behind a beloved job.

My cons are yet to come, although my parents felt like sharing their #1 concern/qualm: There will be no crying allowed. Everyone--feel free to share your opinions!

Also, note to the Detroit readers who watch Channel 4 news. I was interviewed this afternoon in front of St. Florian's in Hamtramck. I don't normally exhibit any spazzy tics or stutters, they just surface when I'm on camera.

P.S. This isn't an April Fools post. I'm dead serious about becoming an officer in the Air Force. I'm talking with a recruiter tomorrow!

The best thing to happen in weeks...

The dye injected into my veins for the chest CT made me feel all warm and cozy. It felt just like a big shot of whiskey without the alcohol or burning in the throat. It was almost like Ben Gay for the insides. The sensation started at the back of my throat and worked it's way down to my lower torso. Actually it felt like I wet myself (which DID NOT happen, btw.) Of course the sensation dissipated after a few seconds and I'm cold on the inside again.

After the procedure was over, the nurse expressed hope that I wouldn't have a brused inner arm, due to all the bloodletting of the past few days, to which I replied "Oh, I'm not vain about my veins." It's shit like that, uncontrolable stupid sentences that bypass the normal speech pattern filter in my brain.

Of course, it all gets worse...

As of yesterday I will soon be parting company with my place of employment. I don't want to get into details, suffice to say it's all really shitty, coming at a truly bad moment in my life, 50% my own fault, and everything is getting really shaky (not really financially but mostly emotional.)

On the upside, I'm feeling strangely calm (maybe reality hasn't set in yet) and dare I say it, almost happy. I also surprised myself yesterday with a coherent verbal outburst at a person of authority (which probably didn't help matters in the first place.)

I'm now one of the overeducated huddled masses looking for a gig at a bookstore while finishing graduate school. How typical.

I think I'm long overdue for something good in my life, hmmm?

I wonder what this development will look like on the chest CT?

The cherry on top of my crap sundae...

As if things couldn't get worse for me, yesterday happened. I was working, minding my own business when I started getting stabbing chest pains on the heart side of my chest and throbbing pain in my left armpit (heartside as well.) Not leaving anything to chance, I left work early and went to Beaumont's ER (yes, I have a Beaumont Doctor.) After EKGs, x-rays, urineanlysis, blood draws, IVs, and sitting on a gurney in a revealing gown for almost six hours, it was initially determined that I somehow "sprained my chest." I didn't quite realize that was possible.

After being given that diagnosis, the ER doctor said my primary care physician had been contacted and wanted to see me on Thursday (today) so I left work early (again) and had blood drawn (again) and didn't quite get the clean bill of health I was hoping for...I need to get a chest CT scan ASAP, STAT, whatever acronym works, so that means that bright (not really) and early (6:30 AM) on Monday, I'll be getting dye injected in my veins and sent to hang out in the big machine. As a further added bonus, I need to pump additional asthma medication for 13 hours prior to the procedure because the dye has been known to cause problems in the pulminarily challenged.

Heartbreak Kid...

Welcome back to reality.

Details...

Ago, Julie, anyone else with an inquiring mind, here's more info: yes, the fact that he is still married is bothering me, but not as much as I initially thought it would. He never says "my wife," it's always "my ex-wife" and a lawyer has been contacted but nothing official has been done yet; plans are in the works. I'm also quite certain that there is no chance for reconciliation; he said he'll never trust her again. Of course, we didn't only hang around and talk about his dead marriage all weekend.

He was the perfect gentleman all weekend: he opened the car door for me, as well as doors to the restaurant, his house, etc. He paid for dinner, drinks, entertainment and everything else. I had a great time. The only major problem(s): he lives 150 miles away, which in a way is a good thing. I have the problem of getting sick and tired of guys (dull, boring, dead-end ones mostly.) I dated some guys who were ALWAYS hanging around, never giving me space and it started really getting on my nerves pronto. If I see him a few times a month, it could work, yet it could turn into another long-distance casualty. I've personally killed several relationships with the long-distance issue, but usually the relationship is in a terminal state by then. Another problem: the Army. Before meeting him I would hear about reservists getting called up for active duty every night on the news; I really didn't pay too much attention. Now I'm hearing about it and have more of an interest, and I'm getting scared.

This is all so brand new; I'm not even sure if he's interested in me. He probably is, but one can never really tell this early. I don't wish to get my heart demolished yet again, so I'm absolutely not getting my hopes up, but that's easy to say. I've experienced ten years' worth of lying, cheating, lazy bastards already so it's about time for someone good to venture into my life, but I am undeniably the rebound girl, and he is bitter with serious baggage.

Anyone who knows me and who knows him, PLEASE don't tell him about this. I just need to vent and get my feelings off my chest.

Just a hopeless guilt-ridden gal...

I had a very interesting, disturbing weekend in Grand Rapids. I'll elaborate further, tomorrow maybe once everything sinks in. Just a hint: I'm now embroiled in a morally questionable relationship with Mr. ITAEIT (It Will All End In Tears) and now I'm feeling very, very confused, and yet very happy and excited. He is perfect for me, except for everything that is so completely, horribly wrong.

And to add a further facet of weirdness to the equation: I am strangely turned-on by army fatigues and dress uniforms. I am so messed up.

Within the last half-hour...

I listened to a co-worker describe the usage of a Tax Management Portfolio (515-2nd as anyone actually cares.) as being "hot and heavy." She used this phrase at least ten times. Thank God it was a phone conversation, because I was trying not to crack up. Tax Management Portfolios are very dry, very specialized, and are a bitch to update, so the phrase "hot and heavy" does not automatically leap to mind when dealing with this product. This particular portfolio also deals with divorce and separation. Come to think of it, the phrase "hot and heavy" doesn't describe anything in my library at all.

I received an email requesting pages from the aforementioned portfolio. Strangely enough, the email was started with a "Dear Jennifer" instead of just launching into a demand. This type of letter-writing greeting etiquette is rarely observed in a legal setting and I was strangely moved by it. It seemed sincere. At the same time, in my brain I added "Dear Jennifer, how are you? I am fine," and had a bit of a laugh.

The American Bar Association called my number asking for Marie. The following conversation resulted:
ME: Hello, this is Jennifer.
ABA: Can I please speak to Marie?
ME: There is no Marie at the number. This is a business.
ABA: Oh. Can you please transfer me to the library?
ME: This is the library.
ABA: Oh. Can I please speak with Marie?
ME: (getting impatient) There is no Marie in the library.
ABA: Well, a Marie just called inquiring on an order.
ME: I just called about an hour ago.
ABA: So, you're Marie? I have the name written down as Marie.
ME: No, I'm Jennifer.

Librarian fetish?

I have just recently (within a few hours) discovered that my new Mr "It-Will-All-End-In-Tears" has a thing for the stereotypical "sexy librarian" look. You know the one: hair up in a loose bun, buttoned-up blouse, stockings, high heels, nerdy glasses. I'm sure a fantasy scenario may go something like this: gorgeous, yet unaware of it librarian drops a book, bends over to pick up said book, glasses fall off, top button pops off blouse, hair conveniently falls out of loose bun and the librarian metamorphs into a super sex kitten.

REAL WORLD: Un-gorgeous and plenty aware of it, I drop a book, probably unlady-likely squat to pick it up, lose my footing and fall on my ass, magically a book falls off the shelf onto my head, knocks my nerdy glasses off my face, I stand up, step on and crush my glasses and begin swearing like a sailor, probably in front of a shareholder.

This cracks me up...

This is from today's edition of The Onion.


Bush Followed Everywhere By Line Of Baby Ducks

Oh, this is not very good at all...

This weekend I went to a really great party at my friend Becky's house in Clare. In the course of 12 hours, I drank at least 10 glasses of green keg beer (and spilled just as many,) danced like a completely crazy person to an assortment of wonderful tunes from Neil Diamond and NKOTB and the always crowd-pleasing "We Are The World," learned how to play the card/drinking game "asshole"...and I also met a very nice guy who seems interested in me and I in him...and of course it will not work out for any/all of the following reasons:

1. He is technically married (will be divorced in a few months)
2. His marriage ended badly after less than a year
3. He is an army reservist and could be called up for active duty any day now
4. He lives in Grand Rapids, which is over 150 miles away

So, of course I've landed myself in a very bad situation. To make matters worse, he's interested in seeing me this weekend. It will all end in tears (I say as I swoon dramatically.)

Too many unpleasant thoughts...

Yesterday I finished compiling the list of 100 things I need to accomplish my the time I turn thrity, and now I'm completely depressed. Nearly everything on the list is completely do-able, but I'm not sure I'll actually be able to do everything. It's probably that lovely time of the year again. I need to get another physical. There's something wrong with me, I can just tell.

I realize that this is nothing to take lightly and this time I'm not being a complete drama queen. If there is something wrong with me, and if that something wrong is cancer, I think it will be in the lymphoma family. I hate to say this, but I've been reading up on survival statistics and the pharmaceuticals portion of the situation recently. I'm also trying to stay upbeat, but there's something nagging me all the time. I'm having unpleasant dreams, I'm always anxiety-ridden, I don't care about my class anymore, I just really need some answers. Yesterday I had a run-of-the-mill sinus headache, but it got me thinking about what's going on/growing in my brain. Especially in the back of my head. I need to escape work for an afternoon for a top-to-bottom checkup.

Greeting from the Black Lodge...

Well, I have finished the first episode of Twin Peaks (not the pilot, just the first one-hour episode.) I have a feeling that something may be missing. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a bit rusty after an almost fifteen year break from the show, but I'm discovering that I don't remember as much about the show as I used to. Granted, this was just the first episode and the show didn't fall into a truly goofy groove until a few episodes in. I remember all the giant/midget/Bob stuff, but the beginning episode mainly involved boring James Hurley and Donna and Laura Palmer's screaming mother. The winning line "there was a fish in the percolator" was uttered in this ep. along with some other Cooper-related gems "Damn fine coffee." I can't believe I was just a goofy eighth grader when the show first aired. Yet, I still can't get me enough Coop!

Blackadder...

I just finished up my first cry of the new year. The first sob of 2005 was due to the last episode of "Blackadder Goes Forth." *Warning! I'm about to give away the ending of the fourth series.* I knew the sixth and final episode ended with the characters leaving the foxhole and meeting the German army (and getting killed,) but it was dealt with in such an honest manner, addressing the horrors of war, death, losing one's friends through the years, perverse humor and everything that has always gone through the minds of soldiers staitioned on the front line.

I've watched all four series (not counting the millenium series, which I'm not sure actually counts as an actual, official series) within the past several months. The first series had it's moments, but I wasn't instantly taken with it. The second series had Miranda Richandson as Queen Elizabeth and she was just batty enough to give the series that special something. The third series included Hugh Laurie (who I was acquainted with via 'Jeeves and Wooster' and who rocks) and by then the show really grew on me. The forth series completely engaged me, along with all the characters.

Rowan Atkinson was completely incredible in this series. He was totally Blackadder. No one could have possibly done better. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to watch Mr. Bean again, although that's in a separate league of it's own.

I can't believe I'm so emotional about an old TV series. This may have to do with my thoughts of joining the Air Force in the near future (although I'm probably getting a bit too old, but I have about five years left,) or the war in Iraq, or hormones, but I think the intelligence of the writing made all the difference in the end.

Sniff.

Ugh, gross!

I never wanted to write about this but I can't quite help it. I need to vent! Someone in my firm, someone perhaps working on the 7th floor is OTR (on the rag,) surfing the crimsom tide, having a visit from their Aunt Flo, what have you. How do I know this? Because my favorite stall in the ladies room looks like a fucking crime scene!!!!! Nasty!!! I don't know how someone could possibly imagine leaving behind a mess of this caliber!!! Ugh!!!

I need to read...

I've decided to give up Borders for Lent (a bit late, yes, but it still counts.) Actually, I'm also going to give up Barnes & Noble and Target's book section. I have way too many books in my bedroom waiting to be read, so for the next twenty four days I shall be faithful to my personal collection. Really I should forbid myself from entering the aforementioned establishments until I have finished the following books I already own:

1. Atlas Shrugged (finishing this is part of my "Countdown to 30")
2. Anna Karenina
3. Dr. Zhivago
4. The Brothers Karamazov
5. Moby Dick

One look at this list and someone might think I'm a Russophile. I'm not playing favorites; actually the authors just seem to find me. Maybe all this reading will start the creative juices flowing. Maybe then my lair will be a palace of productivity instead of a warren of writer's block.

Downtown wildlife...

This morning I saw a loon paddling along in the river. Just digging itself in the icy water. I've never actually seen one before. Maybe tonight I'll see a heron walking around Hart Plaza...it could happen!

My party: Be there and be square (and other thoughts)...

Here's proof positive that I'm a super dorky seventeen-year-old trapped in the body of a super dorky twenty seven-year-old: I'm having a Twin Peaks party this weekend. The folks will be visiting my sis in West Virginia and I'll have the house all to myself! Par-tay! Of course, since I'm very single and without friends and/or acquaintances, I'll be having the party with Bird and Mr. Turtle. Oh well, more pie for me. I'll be doing this party the right way: Black coffee, donuts and cherry pie. Since it's just me, I'll probably brew a pot, go to Tim Hortons for a donut or two and find a decent slice of pie at the supermarket. Maybe an individual 6 inch pie? Where can I get one of those?

In other news, I'm feeling out of sorts. The hem in my left pant leg fell, so I resorted to a desperation stapling. Although no one can see or really cares, I'm just walking around today with the knowledge that I have staples in my pants. I feel slightly trashy, although I'm also feeling slightly proud of my resourcefulness. I tried earlier with cloth book tape and clear packing tape (on other pants in the past) and this will definitely last for a wearing or two, but not much longer.

Also, the snow is getting me down. The drive into Detroit (via Mound) was actually quite beautiful today. It was the perfect snow consistency--the flakes landed on the bare tree branches in just such a wonderful way; it was almost a relaxing, peaceful drive...until I entered Detroit. I then noticed the black dirty snow and the stray dogs wandering the streets, trying not to freeze to death. Then I entered Hamtramck and saw children wearing completely inadequate footwear for walking in the snow. Then the remaing leg of my drive on I-75 and the crush of commuters sapped all the remaining joy from my existence. The fact that I ran out of wiper fluid certaintly didn't help matters much.

Hopefully some crocuses and daffodils will bloom soon. I'm not much of a flower girl, but I need to see some life!

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 again...it'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.

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!

Bikini-a-go-go...

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.

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.

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.

Pics...

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 eharmony.com 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.

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 blogger.com? I'm having difficulties with the how-to instructions in the help section.

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:
"U C MY BLOG"
"BUT I LOVE U"
"WHO IS HOLLY?"
"PEAKED AT 17"
"IM HOT INSIDE"
"DIGNITY FREE"
"CHARITY CASE"
"OUCH"
"EASIlY BROKEN"
And my personal favorite:
"XANADU 2NITE"

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.)

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?

Lent...

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.

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.

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.

Horoscopes...

Greetings Jennifer --
Here is your horoscope for Monday, January 31:

What a great way to start the day -- with a nice, strong dose of romance. Whether you're single or attached, you're going to feel like a teenager. And you just wait -- there's even more in store!

Astrology.com is usually somewhat right on target...until recently. I don't take my horoscope really seriously, unless it says "buy a lottery ticket" or "watch for falling debris." The past few days have been way off the mark. I especially like today's message--a nice, strong dose of romance. Hmmm, the most romantic thing that happened today was Turtle looking up at me with a look on his face that seemed to express "you're not too terrible for a human. If you died in your sleep, I'd wait a few days before devouring your carcass, out of respect for the dead."

Greetings Jennifer --
Here is your horoscope for Sunday, January 30:

For the next few weeks, you'll be ready, willing and able to connect with anyone who's 'different' -- which might only mean that they're not from your neighborhood. The more unusual their views are, though, the better.


Okay, I'm open-minded, ready and willing for an off-kilter fella to wander into my path. Unfortunately, last night I was watching an expose on the famous bigfoot-caught-on-camera anthropologist/cryptozoologist argument/debacle all alone.

Greetings Jennifer --
Here is your horoscope for Saturday, January 29:

Whatever you've been up to lately is finally going to work. So if you've been trying to catch someone's attention and feeling like your technique has been less than effective, not to worry. You're golden.

I'm not sure what's up with this one. Nothing has ever worked for me. Nothing ever!

Secret Agent Jen...

I don't know why I'm still signed up at match.com anymore. I think the fact that I'm still single and childless is an omen--I'm not cut out for a typical life. There is something unsettling to me about getting married and having children. Maybe it's the stability and the potential monotony. My parents keep suggesting I invest in a condo or house, but this idea doesn't appeal to me one bit. I prefer the ability to get up and leave at a moment's notice. I don't want to the roped into a commitment for life (or several years.)

Yesterday I spoke with an attorney (and former DEA agent) at my firm about her experiences at the FBI Academy (I think the DEA stole her away before she could be assigned as an FBI agent.) She told me all about training at the academy, all the running and swimming and firearms training. Basically, it's survivalist training and something about that enthralls me. I'm searching for a life less ordinary and I might actually be on the right track. Of course, if this doesn't pan out, I'll probably be crushed for weeks/months/years (but I'll have a decent degree to fall back on.) I do have the perfect lifestyle for the FBI--I'm not married, no children, nothing holding me down, no felonies on my record, clean bill of health, no debts, no really subversive activity and I'm willing and able to relocate without having to compromise with anyone else's life. Plus, I really want to make a difference in the world.

Who knows where I'll end up? I'm thinking about postponing my Stonehenge trip for a year (maybe as a graduation present to myself) and taking a trip to Washington DC instead. It will definitely be a tad bit cheaper, and I really should explore my own country before running off to Europe. Maybe something exciting and wonderful will happen to me there. I've always had a thing for clandestine government activities and secret agencies, probably thanks to Scarecrow and Mrs. King. I was completely addicted to that series in high school. I discovered it on the Family Channel and was instantly hooked. Just the thought of a divorced housewife (not too frumpy) having a chance encounter with a handsome and smart super-spy and becoming involved in an ultra-secret government agency unbeknownst to her family--and years later secretly marrying him (of course almost getting killed or kidnapped every week; oops I gave the end of the series away!) That would be a dream come true for me! Just imagine: I could be at the Smithsonian or Library of Congress, be taken aside by Mr. Secret-Agent-Man, given instructions, become a convenient package courier, show everyone that I have the right stuff and have the beginning of a life of adventure and intrigue that I've been dreaming of...But of course, I am deeply rooted in reality, and things like that rarely happen. I'd probably just be involved in a routine drug bust.

Imagine going back to one's high school reunion and replying to the "what do you do for a living" question with "If I told you, I'd have to kill you" and actually mean it!!!

My personal ad...

This is the text portion of my match.com personal ad. I tweaked it a bit during my lunch hour. I don't think I'm asking for too much, hmmm? I'm pretty much giving up the search at the end of February. I'm at the point where I don't really much care anymore. Well, that's not exactly true; I know what I'm looking for, unfortunately, he probably doesn't exist. I'll describe who I'm searching for in a future post. Maybe later on tonight when I'm finished studying. I'm just really burnt out right now.

Hi, I am a smart, pleasant-looking (I've been told) girl searching for someone who will treat me well. My friends would say I've got an interesting personality and am someone unlike anyone you've ever met before (in a good way, I hope!) I'm on the petite side, with a small to average body type. Not muscled, not scrawny. I'm in shape. I'm currently working in the legal profession, but I'm also writing a novel. As I stated earlier, I love reading, but I also love trivia games, taking road trips, and visiting places I've never been before. I love to paint, and although I'm technically an untrained "outsider artist", I like what I've done so far. I am extremely quiet and shy at first, until you get to know me. When I'm more comfortable with you, watch out! I have a weird, dark sense of humor much of the time and my personality reflects on that. I enjoy many genres of music, except rap, hip hop and country. I LOVE LEONARD COHEN. When I'm hanging out with friends, I prefer a smaller, intimate setting. To sum it all up, I'm an interesting person looking for the same in a date.

I'm looking for someone much like myself: smart, goofy and interesting. Someone with great grammar and an appreciation for the fine art of writing. Someone in their late 20s or early 30s *NEVER MARRIED AND WITHOUT CHILDREN* I'm searching for someone extremely literate and highly-educated with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge, who also digs David Lynch movies and MST3K. I'm looking for someone with real career aspirations and goals. Someone willing to work hard at a job they love. My dream date would be catching a film at the Detroit Film Theatre, then a cocktail or coffee afterwards to discuss the film or anything else that pops into our minds. I'm also looking for a guy who loves sushi and isn't afraid to try ethnic foods. A love of Polish food is a major plus. Right now I'm looking for someone who will treat me well and respect my feelings. Someone to talk to and share with. Someone who won't forget my birthday. Someone with an awesome sense of humor. Maybe if things work out, someone to grow old with. Basically I'm looking for a friend first before anything else. I'm looking forward to meeting a man who is compatible with me!

Proposals...

Last night I finally got in touch with Liz (of Lusty Lizzard fame.) It was great to hear from her and to hear all about her residencies and Ph.D plans, but the kicker was to discover that she and Craig are planning on starting a family soon. We talked about baby names and all that jazz--she likes the name Leif for a boy. Very cool Viking moniker! Liz and Craig are absolutely perfect for each other. The perfect match! One in five billion!

Ever since that conversation, I've been thinking about the progression of my own life. I'm 27 years old and have never, ever come close to being married, or even close to the point of even considering having my DNA mingle with another's. Hell, I've never even met a guy who I would consider changing my last name for. Not that I haven't been looking.

In my relatively short dating history, I have received two proposals. Neither of which were romantic or memorable. The first was on the way to the movies one night and it was a month after we had met. I didn't accept or say no. It was just a ridiculous suggestion, never to be brought up again. The second suggestion was offered while we were walking past a pet shop. Again, I didn't give an answer but I was slightly moved by/totally creeped out by the fact that he was a bit emotional. Hell, this guy was forever welling up. Looking back on these two guys, I thank God that my head is on straight and that I'm not an emotional twit...but still I can't help but wonder if I'll get any more future opportunities.

Ring ring...

I forgot to mention: I did accomplish one thing whilst laying around sick this past weekend--I now have a cool new ring tone on my phone! Attention anyone who reads this who also has my number! If anyone might ever happen to call me, the ring will happily sound out Men Without Hats' "Safety Dance."

Sick...

The only thing worse than being sick is being sick at work. I have the flu, yet the Detroit library always needs coverage and the librarian is away today, so I am here. What contributed to my sickness, you probably didn't wonder?? On Thursday I stood outside The Post Bar waiting for Mike to show up for 45 minutes before he called wondering where I was, only to discover that he was in the wrong place. I didn't stand inside waiting because of all the smoke/gropey guys. Standing inside a covered doorway in the rain and 30 degree temps isn't good for even the healthiest of people.

Saturday after class I changed into my pajamas and didn't taken them off until this morning. I've been sneezy, coughy, achy, and feverish (yeah, I'm queen of the adjectives today) all weekend and I feel like living shit right now. The only thing that's keeping me alive right now is Day-Quil. Those LiquiCaps are seriously magical. Instead of functioning at 35% like I was this weekend, I figure I'm more like 72% My ears are blocked, my throat hurts and I'm phlegmy, but I can sit up without much difficulty.

At least I had a bit of entertainment yesterday whilst malingering. I watched "The Silence of the Lambs" on HBO yesterday morning. It's probably my favorite movie of all time. I'm even more interested in the FBI as of right now. It's been years since I've seen in all in one sitting; I actually forgot that I have most of the lines memorized! Winners such as:
"Don't you hurt my dog!"
"Don't you make me hurt your dog!"
"Hey, you don't know what pain is!"

Damn, that movie totally rocks!!! Between concentrating on work and trying to stay alive, I'm going to compile my top 10 favorite movie list this afternoon.

Wigging out...

So far, this has been the year of intellectual, creative and physical (marathon plans) endeavors, but it's also evolving into a total carpe diem-esque time in my life. Out of the blue, whilst sitting in my dull office this morning, I just decided to go out and buy a red wig. A natural looking yet inexpensive auburn wig. I don't know what triggered this urge; maybe the thought of hanging out somewhere on St. Patrick's Day and pretending to be Irish, who knows?

Anyone who is familiar with Downtown Detroit is no doubt aware of the area's wig store density. In some parts, you can't swing a dead cat without smacking into a wig store. I dragged my buddy Carol (who just really wanted to go to Starbucks and not go shopping) and went to Eastern Wig--an extremely unique establishment next to the Compuware Building. If you are folically challenged or just curious, this is the place to visit. Unfortunately, if you aren't quite sure what you're actually looking for, this is a confusing place to shop. I had a shade of red in mind. After trying on two mid-back length wigs (with cute bangs!) in carroty-red and dark copper red, I just wasn't finding the perfect shade and was getting frustrated. This isn't the kind of place where you walk in and say "Hi, I'm looking for something Molly Ringwald/Pretty in Pink red, not Breakfast Club red." You need a definite shade in mind.

To make a long store short, I didn't purchase anything, but plan on returning maybe next week (with some now-curious co-workers) to narrow down the choices for my goofy purchase.

It's personality time again...

I love taking these tests...they're such a great time-waster. Way back in 2000, it was determined that I was an INFP. Five years later I'm now an INTP. I'll have to look into this one. Apparently, I'm not as introverted as I used to be and I'm sensing more. Who knows? And goodie for me--I'm attracted to the 3.3% of the population just like me. Hello? Where y'all be??

Jung Explorer Test

Actualized type: INTP
(who you are)
Introverted (I) 73.53% Extroverted (E) 26.47%
Intuitive (N) 60.98% Sensing (S) 39.02%
Thinking (T) 50% Feeling (F) 50%
Perceiving (P) 65.71% Judging (J) 34.29%



INTP - "Architect". Greatest precision in thought and language. Can readily discern contradictions and inconsistencies. The world exists primarily to be understood. 3.3% of total population.
*The current algorithm breaks the tie randomly so refresh the page to see alternate results


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Preferred type: INFP
(who you prefer to be)
Introverted (I) 80.65% Extroverted (E) 19.35%
Intuitive (N) 64.86% Sensing (S) 35.14%
Thinking (T) 50% Feeling (F) 50%
Perceiving (P) 61.11% Judging (J) 38.89%



INFP - "Questor". High capacity for caring. Emotional face to the world. High sense of honor derived from internal values. 4.4% of total population.
*The current algorithm breaks the tie randomly so refresh the page to see alternate results



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Attraction type: INTP
(who you are attracted to)


Introverted (I) 67.65% Extroverted (E) 32.35%
Intuitive (N) 67.57% Sensing (S) 32.43%
Thinking (T) 52.94% Feeling (F) 47.06%
Perceiving (P) 63.64% Judging (J) 36.36%



INTP - "Architect". Greatest precision in thought and language. Can readily discern contradictions and inconsistencies. The world exists primarily to be understood. 3.3% of total population.
*The current algorithm breaks the tie randomly so refresh the page to see alternate results

My popularity...

Out of the blue, around Thanksgiving, as I was expecting a call from someone supossedly interested in purchasing my entertainment unit (*sigh*) I received a call from one of the turd boys from last year. The conversation went exactly like this:

ME: Hello?
TURD: Jen? It's TURD from a few months ago.
ME: Oh. Hello.
TURD: I want to take you out to dinner and a movie tonight.
ME: Sorry, I can't go. No, no! Not out of the blue like this. No! Bye.

And that was that. 36 seconds in total. I've never been so proud of myself (as far as my skills of getting rid of unwanted callers goes.)

Well, I am "After-the-fact" popular yet again, as of late. A guy I dated for a month or so (and who then disappeared) now works in Detroit and is looking for an after-work drinking buddy--me. We're meeting up after work tonight and although I'm not really in the mood to talk to this particular person, or any person right now, I shall attempt to be cordial. It is better than drinking alone.

I'm 9% geekier than I was in June...

You are 66% geek

You are a geek. Good for you! Considering the endless complexity of the universe, as well as whatever discipline you happen to be most interested in, you'll never be bored as long as you have a good book store, a net connection, and thousands of dollars worth of expensive equipment. Assuming you're a technical geek, you'll be able to afford it, too. If you're not a technical geek, you're geek enough to mate with a technical geek and thereby get the needed dough. Dating tip: Don't date a geek of the same persuasion as you. You'll constantly try to out-geek the other.

Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com

Change is good...

I don't know what made me change my blog format, but it is slowly growing on me. I somehow forgot how to add links, but happily remembered before I went completely nuts. Unfortunately, I can't really remember everything that I had on the original white page.

This green is nice and soothing. It kinda looks like my bedroom...yet it gets slightly more visitors--ha!

In other news, I found a local book discussion group (yay!) and attended the first meeting last night. We will be reading The DaVinci Code for February. Since I originally read it last February, I'll do a bit of reviewing. I'm really looking forward to the book group meetings, even though the average age (me included) is easily 65. I really need to discover some hobby, sport or interest that attracts people in my own age range. People, not exculsively guys, but a nice mix of people. It would be nice to find a female friend to go shopping with or out for coffee with. Or more than one. Ever since I graduated, my supply of friends has dwindled due to moving, higher education, and lifestyle advancements. Now I'm for the most part all alone...and the turtle has horrible taste in clothes.

Everyone's doin' it...

Since I've seen this self-survey everywhere, I'll finally post my answers.

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Jen
2. Jennifer
3. J-Sto (Kate only)

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. preciousjen
2. jendawgy
3. (no more!)

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My brain when it behaves
2. My hair when it behaves
3. My small feet

THREE THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. When my brain is on fire and won't stop racing
2. My pliable fingernails
3. My shyness

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Polish (um...that's it.)

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. David Copperfield
2. Apes without tails
3. Political and religious radicals

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Coffee and Tea
2. My car (and petrol)
3. My ATM card

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Lilac sweater-set
2. Black pants
3. Ancient black socks

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS (or artists (at the moment)):
1. They Might Be Giants
2. Talking Heads
3. Leonard Cohen

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1. Autobahn--Kraftwerk
2. Road to Nowhere--Talking Heads
3. Disco Inferno--The Tramps (played at the New Year's party)

THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. Running a full marathon
2. Yoga
3. Wearing a bikini

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (love is a given):
1. Companionship
2. Mental compatibility
3. An off-kilter sense of humor

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE
1. I'm double-jointed in my hands and feet
2. I can't hold my liquor
3. I was born in a rowboat off the coast of Maine in 1894

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO
YOU:
1. Eyes
2. Normal height-weight ratio
3. Symmetry of the face

THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO:
1. Sing
2. Dance
3. Mingle

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Reading
2. Taking long bubble baths
3. Playing with my turtle

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Take a nap
2. Go to Long John Silvers
3. Leave my office and get some fresh air

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Librarian--very serious
2. FBI Agent--very serious
3. Air Force officer--extremely serious


THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. England/Stonehenge (June 2005 Baby!)
2. Prague
3. Iceland

THREE KID'S NAMES:
1. Julian
2. Vyvyan
3. Jane (or Tabitha)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Find happiness in a career
2. Have a baby (maybe)
3. Run with the bulls in Pamplona

Sleeping with Prince Valium...

Last night I somehow pulled a muscle in my back. Since I do nothing all day except sit and breathe, this is quite a puzzler. The last time I pulled my back, way back in May, it was due to bending down, twisting, and picking up a laundry basket with two month's worth of towels and other dirty, heavy stuff. Maybe this time I sniffled or sneezed, or maybe it was due to sitting on the couch while eating dinner (chicken caesar salad.) I took a Valium (or Diazepam (sp) for all you pharmacy geeks out there) before bed and had the sleep of the angels! I'm still sleepy!

Here's a long-overdue announcement: I am officially a grad student again! Yay! I'm back at Wayne State and should finish my Master's in a year or so. Only one class had any spots remaining and although it is a killer course, it is on Saturday afternoons! So, I'll be able to sleep in and I won't be after-work-cranky! I'm really excited to get back in the grad school saddle again. It feels as if my life has a little purpose after all.

I'm still sticking to my New Year's Resolutions and am making some definite progress! I purchased a new pair of running shoes from Hanson's (cute red and white gel Asics) but thanks to all the rain and snow, my outdoor running has been hampered. I've also make progress on the vacation front! I'm now planning a trip to England for my birthday!!! I WILL be at Stonehenge for the Equinox on June 21st!

New Year's Resolutions...

Last year, I actually stuck to my resolution and lost some weight. This year, I hope to keep the streak alive. Here are the resolutions de year (what's year in French?) um... de l'année?

-Work on getting toned.
-Go to Bally's on a regular basis.
-Run a marathon.
-Make definite steps toward finishing my master's.
-Find a hair color I can be happy with (although my dark blonde is growing on me--as long as the roots aren't visible.)
-Save more money.
-Take a real vacation.

Those are do-able, no?

This is getting quite disturbing...

I was just informed that I'm the "Penthouse Librarian." I didn't have the heart to argue that I'm not yet finished with my degree...why must I be the topic of these discussions? And why aren't I more irritated?!? I'm actually flattered!

On another note: my New Year's Resolution is to get fit and toned. Part of that will be achieved by visiting the batting cage down the street. I'm sure I'll get a decent upper arm/back workout by doing that. And it's outdoors. And it's biking distance! Unfortunately, they open April 15th. I really need to get in shape. I'm falling asleep right now. My lunch is almost over and I feel like a siesta. My metabolism is all messed up thanks to holiday eating/pigging out!

One more thing...

Friday was the 2 year anniversary of my Jeopardy! episode airing. None of my family asked me about it! The healing has begun! If only the same can be said for at work...

Singleness...

This weekend, as I was laying in bed eating pumpkin seeds, reading "America: The Book" from the Daily Show and watching "Good Eats" it hit me: I really am not looking to date anyone right now--not that any guys are beating down my door. I'm finally comfy in my own skin and I don't feel like compromising for just some guy. Then, this morning in the shower (where all the best thinking of the day takes place) I realized that if I found someone, my chances of relocation are somewhat diminished. I don't want to compromise for anyone. I need to get the wanderlust out of my system! Also, for the first time in a long time I do not have a pathetic crush tearing me apart. Mr. Former Workplace Crush is history, but all in all, it was fun.

Onto another topic: Christmas. I was extremely blessed this year with goodies! Here is a short list of my presents:

Lilac sweater set
Chunky pearl-like necklace
Turtle stash box
2 Black t-shirts
Undies
Nail clipper set
"Pirate jewelry" pendant
Cashmere scarf and gloves
Super-warm mittens
Money
"The Rule of Four"--which I shall start after I finish Dr. Zhivago.
OLD FASHIONED RECORD PLAYER!!!
and with money from Grandma and Grandpa--a cute pair of high-heel buckle shoes and "America: The Book"

I hope everyone liked what I bought for them.

Here's another something wonderful. For some reason, I have recently decided to embrace my inner sci-fi/unexplained phenomena geek. Within the last few weeks, I've been strangely interested in UFOs, ghosts, ESP and communication with the dead. I don't know what it is, but it's been a good five years since my last foray into this subject matter. It does pertain to the book I'm preparing to write, but now it's starting to affect my home life. Mom won't consider anything even vaguely paranormal and my parents are both telling me to act normal and find a boyfriend. *See paragraph #1!* I don't know exactly what this is but it's a phase that I find myself entertaining every five years or so.

Snow Day!!!

I'm really loving me some snow today! My dad (and for some reason his old air force buddy Mr. Steve who was on the phone last night chiming in with advice) thought that taking the super-depressing Van Dyke bus route would be a good idea on a snow-covered day like today. I guess it was a good idea, but damn...that route is so unbelievably depressing. In a 10-mile stretch, I am witness to the bleakest show on earth. I probably should've made a list-o-lowness during my drive. I'll make one on my way back. It will include vacant arson houses, roving packs of dogs, hookers and/or pimps, suspicious transactions and dealings, and maybe vacant businesses. Actually, I will make this list!

It's a slow day here. So far I've delivered a few presents to friends, snacked on a small cinnamon roll and a handful of red and green M&M's, did the mail, found some nice Jello recipes for Christmas Eve, and had a disturbing conversation with a secretary about the horrors of wearing a thin bra on a cold day at work. Since it's still snowing fairly steadily, we are all hoping to be let out early...yet I'm not holding my breath.

Here's a shout-out to Liz regarding the Indigo Child post. Yes, I know, I know, I know this is all totally bunk. There's a small part of me that needs to feel like I'm special and different...okay, most of me wants to feel this way. Everyone who reads the criteria can say "Yeah, that's me! I'm special! I'm really somebody" I know my family would love to attribute my diagnosed ADD to me being an alien, but that would just be their way of explaining their nerdy, scattered, oddball daughter. I'm not an alien, just the black sheep. And thanks for the pup comment. It made me smile!

Ouch!

I just had the following conversation with a coworker who shall remain anonymous:

Coworker: No one's going to be here tomorrow. It's going to be dead, especially if we get the 10 inches of snow predicted.
Me: I'm going to be here tomorrow!
Coworker: I meant no one important.
Me: Ouch! The truth hurts!

The entire South-East Lower Michigan area is expecting 8-10 inches of snow by Friday, which will be a major pain in the ass for Kate who's driving in tomorrow from West Virginia. If we get the full amount of snow, I'm officially making tomorrow "work place casual Thursday." There's no way in hell I'm wearing dress shoes and tights in the slush. This shall put a crimp in my Christmas Eve wardrobe choices. Every year we have a semi-traditional Polish Christmas Eve party at my grandparents and it is a dress-up occasion. Since I've lost some of my surplus tonnage, I wanted to wear this awesome red totally retro Goodwill dress, but the look might be ruined with the precipitation and I'll be forced to wear something sweater-ish. I really do need to look good this year. Last year I wore an Indian print maternity shirt which I though looked sweet. In fact, in pictures I looked about 6 months along. The fact that I was drinking all night probably didn't look too good to casual, non-related observers. I'll make up for it this year.

It's the little things...

Dear Diary,

This morning, I was told that I'm too smart to be a paralegal (although that sentence structure is mentally questionable.) I have a meeting at Wayne State this afternoon to discuss my Master's degree progress. It should be really interesting. I need to finish this degree. I'm getting too old. My age is really creeping up. I'm 27 and really should have some kind of plan for my life. At least a career goal. I need a back-up if the FBI or air force don't pann out. I don't really look my age. My mom officially said I look 23. I'm not complaining.

Also, I've been doing some reading on the topic of "Indigo Children." It's really difficult to explain, but I'm most certaintly an "Indigo Adult" Here are the criteria:

Are You an Adult Indigo?
Yes, You can be an adult Indigo. They did not JUST start coming in now, the numbers have just been increasing more and more til there are so many we finally can not ignore them. Yeay!!! Are you an adult Indigo?

I believe Adult Indigos have these characteristics:

--Are intelligent, though may not have had top grades.
--Are very creative and enjoy making things.
--Always need to know WHY, especially why they are being asked to do something.
--Had disgust and perhaps loathing for much of the required and repetitious work in school.
--Were rebellious in school in that they refused to do homework and rejected authority of teachers, OR seriously wanted to rebel, but didn't DARE, usually due to parental pressure.
--May have experienced early existential depression and feelings of helplessness. These may have ranged from sadness to utter despair. Suicidal feelings while still in high school or younger are not uncommon in the Indigo Adult.
--Have difficulty in service-oriented jobs. Indigos resist authority and caste system of employment.
--Prefer cooperative efforts, leadership positions, or working alone.
--Have deep empathy for others, yet an intolerance of stupidity.
--May be extremely emotionally sensitive including crying at the drop of a hat (no shielding) Or may be the opposite and show no expression of emotion (full shielding).
--May have trouble with RAGE.
--Have trouble with systems they consider broken or ineffective ie. political, educational, medical, and legal.
--Alienation from or anger with politics - feeling your voice won't count and that the outcome really doesn't mattter.
--Frustration with or rejection of the traditional American dream - 9-5 career, marriage, 2.5 children, house with white picket fence, etc.
--Anger at rights being taken away, fear and/or fury at "Big Brother watching you."
--They feel a burning desire to do something to change and improve the world. May be stymied what to do. May have trouble identifying their path.
--Have psychic or spiritual interest fairly young - in or before teen years.
--Had few if any Indigo role models.
--Have strong intuition.
--Random behavior pattern or mind style - (symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder), may have trouble focusing on assigned tasks, may jump around in conversations.
--Have had psychic experiences, such as premonitions, seeing angels or ghosts, out of body experiences, hearing voices.
--May be electrically sensitive such as watches not working and street lights going out as you move under them, electrical equipment malfunctioning and lights blowing out.
--May have awareness of other dimensions and parallel realities.
--Sexually are very expressive and inventive OR may reject sexuality in boredom or with intention of achieving higher spiritual connection. May explore alternate types of sexuality.
--Seek meaning to their life and understanding about the world May seek this through religion or spirituality, spiritual groups and books, self-help groups and books.
--If they find balance they may become very strong, healthy, happy individuals.

Thanks a ton, Daddy...

Yesterday, I was chatting with my dad and discussing my future career options. We somehow wandered onto the topic of the Air Force (I think weight loss and BMI numbers were involved) and now I'm also considering joining up after I finish the library science degree! I would take the officer's exam and hope my test-taking skills are functioning at high power. I could be assigned to cryto. perhaps, if I'm far enough removed from Poland. Apparently, being a first generation American knocked many people out (like my dad) of competition for the hot, dandy, highly-sought after positions. Maybe as a second generation, I could make it!

I'm getting rather superficial in my old age. After our stunning career conversation, my only question was "will they make me cut my hair?" Hey, it's finally getting long and decent looking again!

Vitamin deficiencies and other joys...

Oh, this is not good. Throughout the past several years, I have been experiencing really intense, long-lasting food cravings. The most recent ones include: bacon, Olga's meat (lamb, I think) and now the craving de jour is kapusta or sauerkraut to you non-Polish food coniseurs. The bacon one was rather nice. I kept Kosher for nearly a year and decided to go absolutely "hog wild"--pardon the pun. I couldn't get enough bacon! I'd walk to Shish Kebob on weekend mornings, sit in my little back-of-the-restaurant booth and order coffee, rye toast and a large order of bacon, and read for a nice, long time. Mmmmm. Last December I decided to try the Atkin's Diet and decided to eat only bacon. Two days into this experiment, I started developing the symptoms of gout!

I've found that the Olga meat craving is easily overcome. When I go to Olga's, I only get an original with no tomato, light sauce, regular onions and extra meat. Curly fries are sometimes involved. That's usually a $10.00 meal, so it's a special occasion craving.

This kapusta crave is really weird. At Nino Savaggio's (sp?) a few weeks ago I had a free sample of kielbasa and kapusta. The sausage wasn't Kowalski, so eh, but the little bit of cabbage in the sample cup had pushed me into another crave. It's a biggie! I had a giant spoonful of kapusta straight from the jar right before bed last night. I'm craving it right now!!!

And now for something completely different. I need to figure out how to do a pull-up. I've never had the upper-body strength before, but the FBI Physical Fitness Test is starting to intrigue me. As of right now, I could be expected to score maybe an 8, so although I've lost weight, I still am in suck-ass physical shape.

"Special Agent applicants are expected to arrive at the FBI Academy in excellent physical condition. The FBI currently uses a four event Physical Fitness Test (PFT) to assess the level of fitness of Special Agent applicants and Special Agent trainees. The four events and the order they are administered are as follows: 1) one minute sit-ups, 2) a 300 meter sprint, 3) maximum push-ups, and 4) a one and one half mile (1.5 mile run). The FBI chose these four events for the PFT because they accurately measure an individual's overall fitness level relative to the essential tasks performed by FBI Special Agents. In order to pass the PFT, Special Agent applicants and Special Agent trainees must achieve a minimum cumulative score of 12 points with at least one point in each of the four events."

The scoring scales for males and females for each event of the PFT are set forth below

Scoring Scale for One-Minute Sit-ups
Females Males
Score Range Range
-2 29 and below 31 and below
0 30-34 32-37
1 35-36 38
2 37-40 39-42
3 41-42 43-44
4 43-46 45-47
5 47-48 48-49
6 49-50 50-51
7 51-52 52-53
8 53-54 54-55
9 55-56 56-57
10 57 and over 58

Scoring Scale for 300 Meter Sprint (in seconds)

Females Males
Score Range Range
-2 67.5 and over 55.1 and over
0 67.4-65.0 55.0-52.5
1 64-9-62.5 52.4-51.1
2 62.4-60.0 51.0-49.5
3 59.9-57.5 49.4-48.0
4 57.4-56.0 47.9-46.1
5 55.9-54.0 46.0-45.0
6 53.9-53.0 44.9-44.0
7 52.9-52.0 43.9-43.0
8 51.9-51.0 42.9-42.0
9 50.9-50.0 41.9-41.0
10 49.9 and below 40.9 and below

Scoring Scale for Push-ups

Females Males
Score Range Range
-2 4 and below 19 and below
0 5-13 20-29
1 14-18 30-32
2 19-21 33-39
3 22-26 40-43
4 27-29 44-49
5 30-32 50-53
6 33-35 54-56
7 36-38 57-60
8 39-41 61-64
9 42-44 65-70
10 45 and over 71 and over

Scoring Scale for 1.5 Mile Run (in minutes:seconds)

Females Males
Score Range Range
-2 15:00 and over 13:30 and over
0 14:59-14:00 13:29-12:25
1 13:59-13:35 12:24-12:15
2 13:34-13:00 12:14-11:35
3 12:59-12:30 11:34-11:10
4 12:29-11:57 11:09-10:35
5 11:56-11:35 10:34-10:15
6 11:34 -11:15 10:14-9:55
7 11:14-11:06 9:54-9:35
8 11:05-10:45 9:34-9:20
9 10:44-10:35 9:19-9:00
10 10:34 and below 8:59 and below

Scoring Scale for Pull-ups

Females Males
Score Range Range
0 0 0-1
1 1 2-3
2 2 4-5
3 3 6-7
4 4 8-9
5 5 10-11
6 6 12-13
7 7 14-15
8 8 16-17
9 9 18-19
10 10 and over 20 and over

So, from now on, I shall try to get my tushie out of bed early and exercise in the morning. So long Mr. Snooze Button. Hello bitter arctic early morning blasts of wind and snow!

Agent Jen: Special Library Investigator

Things have been changing lately. My ever-evolving career plan has decided to take a new, yet old twist. I'm now planning on finishing my library science degree, get a job at a library somewhere, and work on joining the FBI. Yes, yes, I can imagine everyone who knows me well thinking "Um, okay...wasn't that your grand plan during high school? Back during your 'Silence of the Lambs' plase? Or was that your 'Twin Peaks' phase? Or was that during your 'X-Files' phase?" I shall answer all your internal wonderings right now--Shut the hell up!!! :)

Generally, the FBI is looking for people with degrees in law enforcement, accounting, and the physical sciences, but there is a category in which I might fit in:

DIVERSIFIED:
"To qualify under the Diversified Program, you must have a BS or BA degree in any discipline, plus three years of full-time work experience, or an advanced degree accompanied by two years of full-time work experience."
Okay, they did say ANY discipline. I've got a BS in journalism and art history. Yeah, that realy doesn't get me anywhere. BUT I'll have a master's with 4+ years of full-time work experience. That just might cut it!

Maybe, just maybe I want to be a librarian with a gun?

really-lame-dudes.com

I was taking my shower this morning, and as always was doing my best thinking of the day. I started compiling all the guys I've talked to/had at least one dinner date with all year. 2004 was certaintely the year for the wasting time with useless guys. I shall use only initials, to protect the lame-o's (and the one or two decent guys in the mix.)

1. K. Nice guy, 5 dates or so, only friendly; just wasn't interested in me.
2. J. Had a nice lunch date at Greektown. Never heard from him again.
3. M. Talked with him on the phone twice, I think. He was pretty stupid.
4. J. Smart, Roeper School guy. Touched my hair during dinner (creepy) and told me the saga of his gay father. A bit of a turnoff. On the upside--great dinner of chicken torteloni.
5. G. Uber loser. Hung out with for a few weeks, then he disappeared. Complete cheapskate and total turd-licker.
6. M. Very nice guy with cute cats and deep emotional problems. Disappeared.
7. T. Nice guy, had 3+ hour dinner date. We got along really well, never heard from him again.
8. C. Completely self-centered name-dropper; I had a bowl of salmon corn chowder--Mmmm! I missed his last call and never called back.
9. CC. Total asshole.
10. R. Only talked on the phone. Has no future goals and/or aspirations. Criticized me for having plans and for thinking about my future.
11. M. Super nice guy, too busy with work to date.
12. S. Nice guy; one sushi date, never heard from him again.

Not one serious thing in over a year. At least I did get a few free dinners and movies! Maybe I've got the beginnings of a chick-lit novel with all this "research."

Oh, that's not me...

The picture I have on my dashboard area and on the "Brain Log" isn't me. It's a 30+ year old picture of Cybil Sheppard. I've been told numerous times that I closely resemble her, when she was in her twenties. I've also been told that I resemble Christine Taylor (of "Hey Dude" and Brady Bunch movies fame) and an intoxicated guy at a party last spring said I resembled Alicia Silverstone.

In 1997, I was told that I resembled Louise Woodward, the English baby-shakin' au pair nanny who was in the news. She had a remarkably fat face at the time. So did I. I think we both attributed the look to a bad hairstyle.

Yippee!

I found a dress!!! It's black with thin spaghetti straps, pink netting at the hem and a pink frufru at the bust line. And as an added bonus, it fits and looks good.

I modeled it for my mom yesterday while she was working in "Intimates." She looked at me with a strange look on her face. Here's what the conversation was like:
ME: What?
MOM (with a puzzled look on her face): Nothing.
ME: What?
MOM: It looks nice, it's just that...
ME: You're just not used to seeing me in a dress like this. I never went to any homecomings, or proms, or cotillions, or coming-out parties (debutante or gay.) You're used to Kate showing this much skin, not me.
MOM: Yeah, that's why the dress looks like that on you. It's very 1950's.
ME (jumping): And I don't need a bra, do I?

And anyone who ventured into the fitting room learned that, no, I don't need a bra with this dress. The pink frufru covers both form and function.