More nudity (of the non-human variety)

Completely nekkid Dr. Turtle just chillin' for the camera. I believe he holds doctorates in herptology, astrophysics, and English Literature. He's a blast at parties. 


Totally nekkid bird. He's in the middle of saying "Please pardon the poo pile on the perch." 

Occular hnt...

I'm trying out the new Almay eye color enhancing makeup. God help me: I'm wearing green mascara! So, does the makeup bring out the green (on the left eye?) P.S. I AM wearing cover-up on my dark circles!!! 

Sick...

I am completely laid-up with a nasty summer cold/virus. I feel like I got run over by a dumptruck. It's a strange bug that's running rampant through my household: it's mainly on the right side of my head--right side earache, sore throat, sinus headache and swollen gland. Maybe it's because I'm right-handed. My dad is a lefty and all his symptoms are lefties as well. Maybe that's the stupidest medical hypothesis in the history of stupid ideas.

I watched lots of Kim Possible again today. It's on 10,000 times a day on a few different channels. Effective immediately, or as soon as this bug goes away, I'm cutting myself off from the show. Why? Because as I was obtaining health insurance yesterday, I actually said "Oh, no drama" when explaining the state of my job-search to the insurance agent. My innards cringed as I said it.

Things could be worse: I could get stuck on soaps again. When I was thirteen or so, I was stuck on General Hospital and All My Children. I'd tape the shows every day and watch them before bed. Since the shows seem to be fairly youth-oriented these days, I'm safe.

I think I know this guy...

I'll totally be seeing this summer blockbuster!

I just saw a preview for this and I laughed my ass off! This has been quite the summer for theater movies. I just saw Bewitched this afternoon. Not too bad; good brainless fun. Now I must see the following forthcoming flicks: Dark Water, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, The Fantastic Four, Aristocrats and maybe Wedding Crashers (because I heart Christopher Walken, but of course who doesn't?)

I'm officially a grown-up now...oh wait--on second thought I'm totally not.

It was brought to my attention that I didn't complain about not getting a free birthday drink this year. In fact, I consumed no alcohol on my birthday, or even a drop since Saturday. I was feeling very proud of this fact, and dare I say it, even MATURE until my TV watching habits of the past few days also sunk in: I spent the better part of yesterday afternoon watching Kim Possible on the Disney Channel...and I'm doing it again right now.

Not that it makes it any better, but half the time I think I prefer the villians to the "good guys."

My God, I need to get back to work! Does anyone need a proofreader/copywriter in the Metro Detroit area?!?!?

Nekked Neck...

Here is an extremely akward camera-angle picture of my half-nekkid, ghostly pale, weird looking neck. Also, note the not-yet deadly pre-carcinomas I've got camped out on the shoulders. And people wonder why I avoid the sun! 

Sale! Sale!

Is anyone looking for a book on faith healing? How about a read-only-once copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover? Or a ladies Kenneth Cole shirt? check out my eBay sale if you're interested in cheap books, odd clothing and the occasional can't-live-without accessory that would make your life complete!

Happy birthday to me...

Well, I have made it to 28 and have decided to make some changes in my life. Things started normal enough this morning: I woke up with the sunshine and birds, was serenaded by my mom and opened my present: "Eats, Shoots and Leaves," Sense and Sensibility on DVD, the Harry Potter 5-pack and a cheque to go toward my hair-colour correction (I'm going back to my natural brown--Kristin Davis brown.) My parents have finally made peace with the notion that I love books and period flicks.

Here's where the life changes begin: the Detroit Marathon is October 23 and I WILL be going to Bally's and/or doing some kind of physical exercise/training every day until then. I located a good half-marathon training schedule and I probably will reach the finish line in one piece. Then I went shopping, bought a pair of Steve Madden shoes (black heels with pink edging. Very cute.) And the most perfect piece of Godiva Chocolate--the praline clamshell. Here's change #2: I need to do something wonderful and relaxing for myself, like the Godiva, at least a few times a week. Even going to the library and relaxing in the cool quiet would work.

Also, I'm going to start going to yoga classes at Bally's. I need some physical, mental and spiritual help as well.

Bloomsday...

Last year around this time I recall listening to an interesting story on NRP all about "Bloomsday," the day James Joyes fans re-create the happenings of Ulysses. I also recall telling myself to read the book by next June 16th. Today is June 18th and I forgot all about it! Dammit! Hopefully I'll remember it for next year. At least I finished at least one 1000+ page novel this year. I better get cracking.

Also, speaking of "holidays," today is my extended family's annual Father's Day theme party at my Aunt Teresa's (and Derrell's) house. In the past, the party's theme has been "Survivor" (I wore khaki shorts and a safari hat,) the 50's (I found an appropriate vintage dress,) Greek (my dad and uncles wore togas--I just brought Kalamata olives) and this year the theme is holidays (?). Each family (there are 6 siblings in the main family) get's a holiday to dress up as and bring a dish celebrating that holiday. We have Halloween. My mom made a pasta salad with cheddar cheese and black olives served in a trick-or-treater's bowl. This year's theme is a bit convoluted; I really don't get it. I'm dressing up as a witch...a Samantha Stevens Bewitched-witch.

The dress is a red vintage mini-dress from the 60's. I tried it on with some matching red heels. I look kinda whorish. I'm sure pictures will be taken. I plan on getting smashed. Nothing better than doing shots with your 40-something aunts.

Ouch...

Yesterday afternoon I went to Applebee's for lunch with my mom, my mom's cousin and my great aunt. For the first few minutes of socializing, everything was lovely until my mom's cousin asked me "so, how long have you been in town?" to which I replied "uh, I live here." After a bit of confusion, it was determined that I was, in fact, not Kate but plain old, Michigan-dwelling Jen. Apparently, I was remembered as being a bit "heavier" than Kate. Ouch. Usually I'm told that I look good, but my previous weight had never been discussed so bluntly! Kate and I have two different structures: she's taller with bigger bones (and less meat on them.) I'm slightly shorter with much smaller bone structure (and more meat.)

When we returned home, I officially declared that I shall weigh 100 pounds by Thanksgiving. Thanks to my height and build, this is not only do-able, but a healthy challenge. I could probably look healthy and semi-robust even at 90 pounds. Anything less would look gross and sickening. I recall a girl in high school who was so skinny, one could see her teeth through her lips. She was anorexic, of course. 15% of my graduating class had obivious eating disorders; this even included a few guys. Even if I wanted to, I probably don't have the willpower to become anorexic or bulemic. I can't pass up Velveeta Shells & Cheese.

I'm not making light of these conditions, of course. I just love to eat.

Reading: Good Omens

Watching: Monsieur Ibrahim et les Fleurs du Coran

Hearing: Kate Bush "Running Up That Hill"

Wearing: Blue and white pajama bottoms, black t-shirt

A few vacation pics...

Exotic lunch on the road, somewhere around Akron. 


I found a Death Star Pez dispenser. Usually the dispensers are shaped like actual people or character's heads. I was pathetically excited to find this one: an actual geographical location! (yes, I know it's not a geographical location. How about this: it's an actual fictional artificial outer space land-mass.)  


Kate, looking a bit gassed. 


Me, looming in the shadows of the big, blue Jeep. 


The lovely Ohio River taken from a touristy spot in Marietta, Ohio. I think I may have gotten a tick bite while taking in the scenery. 


Me and Kate. I'm tired and hungover; she's either giddy or slap-happy. 

Hematoma HNT...

Just in time for Half-Neddid Thursday: my lovely bruised knee from slamming into a pole on a platform dance floor. Yes, I've documented a girl's first stripper equipment injury. Pretty, huh? 

Itchy...

I had a lovely time visiting my sister in West Virginia, and have many a story and picture to share, but right now I'm miserable. I am experiencing a strange delayed allergic reaction to the sunless tanning products I've been using for the past week or so. I am red, itchy, lumpy, and thanks to my high tolerance for pain, I am bloody (fingernails in my sleep.) Gross and nasty. I'm pale once again.

And I'm all out of Aveeno bath-soak stuff.

Half-nekkid Thursday may be a pic. of the bottom of my feet--one of the only non-itchy places on my bod.

Alcohol...

Just a quick little blurb about the amazing effects of beer on my brain. Further vacation details to follow:

12 ounces of beer (Bud Light): purely a cool drink
24 ounces: I become talkative
36 ounces: I become very chit-chatty
48 ounces: I begin to talk about the "Transformers" movie from the 80s with a few very cool chemical engineers I've just met. I discover that lots of guys watch "Adult Swim" on the Cartoon Network. My inner geek is totally hanging out.
1 Crown Royal mixed shot (purchased for me): things become very amusing and I am willing to think about dancing
1 Ammaretto Sour (purchased for me): I will dance in public
60 ounces of beer (my final drink since the money has run out): I discover how to get upside down on a stripper pole. Figuring out how to get down is a different story.

That's all for now.

Vacation, all I ever wanted...

On Friday morning, for the first time since April 2004, I'll be taking a really long weekend for a road trip adventure. In 2004 it was to see my sister in St. Louis. This time it's to see her fairly new apartment in Vienna, West Virginia! Woo Hoo! I'm not exactly in the mood to be a guest right now, but since my schedule is wide open, this seems to work best for everyone. I have no idea what we'll be doing, but clubbing, bar-hopping and dancing may be in the mix. Since it's a little town in the middle of nothing, there's not much to do that doesn't involve alcohol. Oh dear.

The last time I drank heavily with my sister was immediately following a difficult final engineering exam (her exam, not mine.) I happened to be in East Lansing for a library seminar and tracked her down to a creepy basement bar (lots of character!) She was drinking vodka and cranberry juice like water and it was amusing until she fell off her barstool and onto her tush, and threw up...then she threw up in my new car...then she smacked me on my ass leaving a Pepto-pink handprint on a pair of good dress pants. Ah, good times.

As a housewarming gift for Kate, I was planning on getting her a cookie press I saw advertised on late-night TV, but since this trip was a bit sudden I'll get her one later on, just in time for Christmas cookies. Actually, this cookie press was a 2-for-1 deal, so I'll keep one for myself. Long story short: the housewarming gift is a five pound jar of marishino cherries from Costco. She goes nuts for them.

Reading: Martha Stewart Living

Watching: Good Eats

Hearing: The Church--Under the Milky Way (I love this song sooo much!)

Wearing: Grey shirt, jean shorts and fushia flip flops.

HNT...

Here I am, just lounging away the day, not quite half-nekkid this Thursday but definitely in a state of skimpiness. Also, my natural blinding whiteness seems to be the winner in the "battle of the fake tan." 

Scalded...

I just returned from running errands and checking on something at Wayne State. On the way home, I stopped at Trader Joe's for flax seed chips for my sister (more on her later, tomorrow maybe) and all-natural peanut butter. Anyway, I'm pushing the shopping cart with my right hand, the left is awkwardly holding a free sample cup of coffee, and I notice a very attractive young fella in the frozen organic section (tall, skinny, pale, dark-haired, glasses, no wedding ring, vaguely Jewish looking...just my type.) So, like a moron, I move my cart near his, pretend to be interested in the veggie enchiladas, prepare to make eye-contact and manage to spill the blisteringly hot coffee on my skirt and flip flop-clad feet. If that weren't enough, I also sounded like I had Tourette's syndrome. A very colorful string of expletives left my mouth and I think he ran away. Dammit. I just can't win.

Reading: Moby Dick

Drinking: Crappy strawberry wine--a wedding favor I found in the pantry.

Hearing: The Dead Milkmen

Wearing: Black Kenneth Cole sleeveless blouse, black skirt w/white polka dots and black beaded flip flops

Change comes from within...

Yes, I changed the template again. I've got a huge amount of anxiety right now and it's manifesting itself in serious blog indecision.

I need a drink. Right now. Vodka tonic, here I come!

Robert Smith kicks ass...

Um, thanks South Park.
Seriously, Disintegration is quite possibly the best album ever made, and as I discovered this afternoon it is also the perfect music for cleaning a bathroom. Serious tunes for tub scrubbing. I was only able to locate my cassette; I know I have (or had) the CD, but it was probably stolen by an ex-BF (bastard.)

Also, a zillion years ago, I saw an ad for neighborhoodies, this great site for custom design t-shirts, sweatshirts, hoodies, bags and other stuff. Last week, after thinking about it forever, I finally ordered something! It just arrived today and I'm VERY happy with the results!!!!


Dig it!! My new Neighborhoodies shirt! It's also my superhero name. 

Also, also, I re-tanned and it worked. Now I look like a Samoan (no offense to Samoans. You're a beautiful people. I'm just not used to being so dark. I usually look like an anemic Swede (who are also beautiful people, no offense as well.)

Reading: The new New Yorker, which arrived on Saturday

Seeing: Woozy stars, thanks to bathroom cleaning products

Hearing: Disintegration, as I had stated earlier. More specifically, "Lullaby."

Wearing: Jean shorts, yellow tank top, fushia flip flops.

I tried...

A few days ago, after getting tired of constantly hearing about how sickly I looked (thanks to my family,) I purchased Neutrogena's Build-a-Tan gift pack. For $19.99 I got a pre-tan scrub, Build-a-Tan for the body, Build-a-Tan for the face, a pair of scrubby shower mits, and a moisturizing lip gloss. Separately, the products would total around $35.00 at least, so this was a great deal!

Yesterday morning I followed the directions to a tee and waited for results. Several hours later I thought I looked nice and bronzed (for me, at least.) Upon further inspection, it's not that great. I somehow forgot to apply the tanner to the backs of my knees (knee-pits?), the sides of my feet, and the back of my left arm. It sort of looks like I have vitalago. I'm planning on doing the whole exfoliating/tanning process again tomorrow morning. Hopefully, I'll be more careful and observant.

Reading: DHC makeup catalog

Seeing: Newsradio on DVD

Hearing: Fred McDowell--Levee Camp Blues

Wearing: Black t-shirt, green Old Navy shorts (I stocked up in several colors) and black beaded flip flops

I'm bored and whiney...

It's 90 degrees in my neck of the woods right now and I'm feeling lousy. We've turned the AC on for the first time all year, and at first I thought my dad was being a bit wimpy, but after spending a few hours outside I feel this is a good decision. I could be getting a tan the good old-fashioned cancerous way, but today I'm trying the fake tan thang so I won't be Grub Girl anymore. I also have a terrible sore throat and really achey muscles. Late spring cold! Yay!

I wish there was something playing at the movies that interested me. There's nothing. Unfortunately, I'm really not eagerly anticipating Batman or War of the Worlds. Cinderella Man isn't doing anything for me, especially since I already saw a boxing movie this year. One is enough for me. And I greatly dislike Russel Crowe, so there.

Reading: Moby Dick

Seeing: UFO special on the History Channel, will be watching the Tony's later tonight.

Hearing: Ministry-Everyday is Halloween

Wearing: Pink Old Navy shorts, plum t-shirt and fushia flip-flops

Green is good...

After spending many an hour playing with template codes, I think I'm finally happy with the green shade of this blog. It's definitely tons better than the pink of last week and zillions of times better than the original beige-gray of the template. Can I finally be at peace???

Speaking of being at peace, I just returned from a Polish festival at Our Lady of Czestochowa. Being 100% Polish, I am a rarity among second and third generation Americans these days. Both sides of my family are straight from Poland, we have a very strong ethnic identity, we eat Polish food at least twice a week, we give to Polish charities, and some family members are still a bit shaky with English. When I go to Polish Market (which I refer to as Po Mar) or to festivals, I instantly feel much more comfortable, relaxed and at peace. It's strange--everyone around looks slightly familiar and oddly non-threatening. Listening to people speak Polish or English with an accent takes me back to my childhood and parties with my great-grandparents.

I love living where I do: next door to the right are Ukrainians, to the left are Poles, in back are Italians and the all-Americans are across the street. Sterling Heights is a HUGE pastiche of cultures and ethnic groups and it's always interesting and educational (plus it's walking distance from both Thai and Macedonian restaurants,) but it's nice to see someone who looks like a great-aunt or distant cousin at the market.

I've pretty much abandoned my search for Mr. Wonderful, or a boyfriend, or a boy who's a friend, or even a crappy guy who'll acknowledge my presence on occasion, but I've come to realize that a nice Polish boy would be perfect for me--and I can hopefully keep the Polish legacy alive...but if my Mongolian soul mate arrives, I won't shoo him away!

Reading: Moby Dick

Seeing: Newsradio on DVD

Hearing: Kraftwerk, who were in Detroit last night

Wearing: Old Navy low cut jeans that fit oh-so-nicely

Shoesies...

Although I'm getting a bit iffy on the whole Junior League thing, I think I'm going to buy these shoes:


Darling, aren't they?

What the hell is my problem? I'm sick!

I have a sundress that matches them to a tee!

Oh God, did I just admit that?

They'll look great with my freshly fake-tanned legs!

Quick, somebody get me a copy of "The Bell Jar" STAT! Must...fight...the pastel cutesiness! There's a knock at the door--It's Leonard Cohen! Thank God! You've arrived just in time! Hey Leonard, like my new shoes???

Ahhh, that's better...

I think the violent pink/stomach-lining red I previously had on my blog was giving me the headache. I feel much better now.

Perky gals and Jen...

I've decided to try to make some new friends and get involved in my community, so tonight I attended the first informational meeting for the Junior League of Birmingham (and also crossed off #59 from the "Countdown to 30.") I am planning on paying dues and becomming a full, active member but at the same time, I think this might be a big mistake. I arrived at the meeting wearing my usual black and was greeted by the entire Lily Pulitzer spring collection. My God, there was soooo much pink. Also, all the girls there were incredibly tan and were all sporting humungous diamond rings. Serious rocks--at least three carats! To be perfectly truthful, it's basically an after-college sorority. I'm not sure I can pretend to be perky at least once a month for meetings. I'm sure I can muster something up.

I'm just in a less than great mood right now. I have a killer headache right on the top of my head. It's been with me off and on for the past three days. I'm pretty sure it's not sinus-related but thanks to certain COBRA problems, I'm very possibly without medical coverage, so going to the hospital is not an option. It's a brain tumor, I'm sure (or a weird migrane.)

Half-Nekkid Thursday...

These tootsies are definitely more than half-nekkid! 

She's a living doll...

Here is the Jen "action" figure with my handy-dandy sledge hammer--a must have accessory for the barbarian gal on the go. Now I need to find a mace. I especially like the little hobo bag they gave me. I guess the "action" of the figure was eating, thus explaining why my stomach is showing. I guess things like that will happen after spending afternoons sitting around Starbucks in my shiny black suit doing very little exercise. Also, if you look closely, you'll see the figure's roots are showing, much like mine are at this moment. 


Here are some of my less-than useful job search accessories: two recent copies of the New Yorker, Catch-22 and Neil Gaiman's American Gods--all miniature size, of course. I'm still looking for the perfect "action" coffee mug. 


Action figure party! I located my Mulder and Scully action figures and apparently we're at a Solidarność rally! Maybe Power Punch He-Man will get in on the action. 

Zounds...

For the time being, my blog will be the same shade as my sunburn!

Wow!

Today is my blog's first birthday! Huzzah!

Nudie...

Here's my contribution to "Half-Nekkid Thursday" titled "Pale arm, scarred-up hand, watch and evil-eye bracelet." 

Music tag...

Ago tagged me with this one. Anyone who is reading this, whoever you may be, feel free to pass this one along!

1. Total volume of music files on my computer: 258. Not too many, but I'm just getting the hang of my iPod.
2. The Last CD I bought was: "The Essential Leonard Cohen"
3. Song Playing Right Now: The last song I listened to was "That's Just What You Are" by Aimee Mann.
4. Five songs I listen to a lot (in no particular order):

--"Superstar" by The Carpenters. I absolutely love Karen Carpenter's voice, especially on this track. I will belt this one out while driving.

--"So In Love" by OMD. Yes, they had songs other than "If You Leave" and this one blows everything else away!!

--"Dylsexic Heart" by Paul Westerberg. From the "Singles" soundtrack circa early 90s. Very peppy! "Do I hate you? Do I date you? Do I got a dyslexic Heart?"

--"Birdhouse in Your Soul" by They Might Be Giants. It is truly impossible to be in a lousy mood while listening to this song. Unfortunately, listening to more than one TMBG CD in one sitting/car ride can result in a certain degree of craziness.

--"Autobahn" by Kraftwerk. For anyone who doesn't know, they are the German great-granddaddies of electronica. Autobahn is about 25 minutes long and fairly creepy but it is also really hypnotic and very cool. For such a long song, it has only a few short, yet Germanically significant lyrics:

Wir fahr'n fahr'n fahr'n auf der Autobahn

Vor uns liegt ein weites Tal
Die Sonne scheint mit Glitzerstrahl


Die Fahrbahn ist ein graues Band
Weisse Streifen, grüner Rand


Jetzt schalten wir ja das Radio an
Aus dem Lautsprecher klingt es dann:
Wir fahr'n auf der Autobahn...

Translation:

We are driving on the Autobahn

In front of us is a wide valley
The sun is shining with glittering rays

The driving strip is a grey track
White stripes, green edge

Now we're switching the radio on
From the speaker it sounds:
We are driving on the Autobahn...

Summer plans part II... (depressing rant)

Although I'll be going to the Ukraine for my aunt's adoption trip, I'm hoping to use this as a perfect opportunity to get my life in order, get my head on straight, and hopefully finally discover what it is that I'm supposed to do with my life, be it a career direction or a total life path. All I know is that I'm not on the right path right now, or at least I wasn't before I was fired. I'm not on any path right now.

I really wanted to keep in touch with all my friends from work, especially considering that they are/were my only close, see-daily friends. Of course, that didn't happen and it was all my fault. My friend Rose emails me daily (sends me schmaltzy forwards and chain letters, actually) and has been calling but I just can't respond to her calls and messages. I just don't have the energy anymore to ask about how things and people I used to work with/for are doing. I'm not a part of the works anymore. I think that for me, the friendships were connected to the firm. I don't feel like a part of that anymore. I know this isn't true, but I'm just not up to it (social interaction.)

I am definitely in a depressive funk. There's very little I can do about it. I've got no real benefits, so apart from eating healthy and getting enough sleep I have no medicinal options. I'm still awaiting information on my COBRA benefits and my parents are super paranoid about anything happening to me. "Be careful! God forbid you get in an accident! How will you pay for your medical bills???" I guess it's a good thing that I rarely leave the house anymore these days. I have been showering, brushing my teeth, doing my hair, all the important stuff, but for all practical purposes I am a hermit. I did go to Starbucks today. It was good to see people I'm not related to.

I am looking for a job, but not really actively. Just my luck: I'd be offered the job of a lifetime the day before I fly to Kiev. I guess if they really wanted me, they'd wait a few weeks, but that's doubtful.

I'm hoping to find a job opportunity/career that would make a difference in someone's life. I just discovered this past weekend that the FBI wants no part of me, just as the Air Force didn't require my services. This time it's the history of asthma (or, as they phrase it, a physical defect) and the fact that I have a broad, extensive liberal arts background. They pretty much eliminated the "diversified" (any four-year degree and two years of work in a related field) background element for prospective special agents. I guess it's all anti-terrorism these days, so art thieves are prospering. Maybe deep down inside me, I just want to be a writer with a gun...and since Hunter S. Thompson is gone, there's a vacancy for that role. I want to have a creative job with some kind of super-authority connected to it.

Just as I want to make a difference in someone's life, I have a major problem: I don't especially like children, animals, or most other people. At least not right now. But I do want to touch someone's life. I want to be remembered for something other than being that goofy girl who was on Jeopardy all those years ago, who no one really felt comfortable talking to. Since having children may be a biological impossibility or a deadly serious risk to me, I want a little bit of immortality.

No, I'm not planning on offing myself, but my existance is one huge, muddy puddle right now.

Summer plans...

It looks like I will be accompanying my Aunt Marge to the Ukraine sometime this summer. She and her husband Dale will be adopting at least two children from an orphanage!!! The reason for the trip and the destination are the only concrete pieces of information I have, so planning this excursion is a bit of a problem. This is what I don't know yet:

Where in the Ukraine the orphanage is? It's a damn big country.
When we will be leaving? I was told sometime in June...or maybe July.
When we will be coming home: I was told we would be there for at least three weeks.
What will the accommodations be? Will we be in a hotel, an apartment, a house or something else?
Will I require a visa? I'm considering contacting the Ukrainian Embassy in Chicago. If someone knows the answer to this, please let me know.

The only issues I'm personally worried about are the proximity of the orphanage/hotel to Chernobyl combined with the quality/safety of root vegetables.

Even though this is one big pile of uncertainty, I'm more than happy to assist. And she's happy that I can make it...thanks to the fact that I'm not doing anything with my days for the time being and I'm the only available family member with a valid passport, but the passport is from 1997 when I was more than a bit heavier and my hair was considerably browner. The picture looks absolutely nothing like me anymore.

On a completely different note: Newsradio, the fantastic show from the late 90s with Dave Foley is out on DVD today! I've been watching it for the past few hours. Good stuff.

This is a test...this is only a test...

This is a test of "Hello." This is also a stupid picture of my feet taken in my bathroom 

Grub girl...

Today, for the first time since September, I wore shorts outside. For a normal person this wouldn't be such a big occasion, but for me it is huge. I'm a bit self-conscious about how pale I've become recently. No matter what I do, I'm always terribly anemic and super white. I take gross amounts of iron and vitamin C, I regularly eat spinach salads, I've done everything short of sucking on rusty nails; still the level is really low. I've had blood work done and I don't have leukemia, which is nice, yet troubling since my doctor was thinking in that direction. I've even started using a moisturizer with a built-in self tanner.

Today my mom saw me and we had the following conversation:
MOM: Wow Jen, you are really white!
ME: Yes, I already know that, thanks.
MOM: No, I mean really white. You know, when you turn over a rock and see those big white things in the dirt?
ME: You mean grubs?
MOM: Yeah, you look like one of those.

So, here I am. Grub girl.

and stranger...

Our nine-year-old cockatiel has recently been acting a little strange. Upon further inspection, I noticed that he was, um...how should I phrase this, rhythmically rubbing certain male bird parts along his perch. "No, that can't be," I thought, then did a little online research.

Yes, it's just as I thought.

He doesn't even have the decency to wait until the room is empty. Little winged perv.

My life keeps getting stranger...

It looks like I'll be spending the better part of June and July in The Ukraine! I'm sure I'll have more details later on, but right now I'm trying to wrap my mind around this development.

*gasp*...

I went to a Tigers game last night; they won in extra innings. Said inning were played after I had left, due to the fact that it was 50 degrees and I was cold, due to the flip-flop/bare foot fixation I am suffering from. Aside from that, all was good, fun, dandy (because I ate a really great hot dog) and surreal...because I saw Mr. Former Attorney Crush a few hours earlier!!!

I was walking past a restaurant on the way to Comerica Park and there he was, sitting in the front window eating dinner with a bunch of guys who I'm sure are fellow attorneys. He looked right at me but didn't seem to recognize me. I saw him and thankfully I was walking with a group of people because my gut dropped to my knees and I actually gasped out loud. And my fingers started tingling. Wow. If I saw him outside on the street someday, I would hope to say something like "Hey Bill, how's it goin'?" In reality, I'd probably be suffering some kind of ridiculous stammering fit and shock due to the rapid evacuation of my intestines to my patellas.

Damn, this crush just won't go away. I haven't seen a glimpse of him in over 6 months!

Too much time on my hands...

After spending several blissful hours of unsuccessfully searching for a job, my brain has the tendency to wander. A lot. And the brain invites in stupid ideas to get lodged in my head. I don't know where this idea came from, but it's really a winner: I want to make an "action" figure of myself. So I just finished doing a Google search and found a few people who will make a disturbingly realistic rendition of someone for several hundred dollars...so that's not an option. I think I'll go through my old She-Ra dolls and find someone who could resemble me (don't try to deny it--everyone had He-Mans and She-Ras during the 80s...some still might have them tucked away in storage.) Then, I'll get some model paint from the hobby shop and paint the whole clothing-covered body black and maybe cut the hair a bit and voila, there I'll be.

What type of "action" will the Jen figure be doing? I'll have to find a miniature coffee cup and a miniature copy of The New Yorker. I'll be "Half-Assed Job Searcher Girl." Maybe I'll find a turtle, maybe from an old Strawberry Shortcake collection from the 80s as well (where will I ever find that??) and I'll have a sidekick/means of transportation.

Ohh! Inspiration!

L'chaim...

This morning, I had such a weird dream. I was in an arranged marriage to a Hasidic Jew who I had only briefly met in the past. Actually, I do know who he is but I have absolutely no idea why he was in my dream; I've only seen him a few times several years ago. Who knows? Anyway, we were married and I remember telling everyone at work (I was still there, I guess) that I'll be hyphenating my last name so I could have a huge, imposing double-foreign, absence of vowels monstrosity. In my dream, I wore the long black skirts, long sleeved blouses and a head covering and he was dressed in the bekishe (long black coat) and black hat. He didn't have a full beard yet. I recall not knowing him very well but having the feeling that I would grow to love him. The dream ended when someone broke all the windows in my car as I was parking by the family house (we lived with his parents.)

Maybe I'm remembering a past life? It was extremely vivid.

New undies and other good things...

A few years back, whenever I was having a rotten, terrible day I would stop by Old Navy on the way home from work. Maybe once a month I'd buy myself a t-shirt or a cheap skirt I could get away with wearing to work. This afternoon I tried doing a mood-enhancing Old Navy shop to no avail. I tried on a few cute skirts and was hit with the realization that I'm way too short (and a bit old) for most of the hip flowy skirt styles. I eventually purchased a few tees but I got no mental satisfaction. Well, I guess my days have been getting progressively worse and now I'm finding myself getting into the really hard stuff: bras.

I just returned from Target after having gotten snagged by the intimate apparel section. It was a wonderful yet horrible splurge. I needed all new bras ever since discovering that most of my 25 pound weight loss pretty much disappeared from one particular portion of my bod. Now I have the same new bra in black, white and red. Sadly, I'm roughly the size I was when I was ten. Truly pitiful. I am completely unable to wear anything strapless, or tube top-ish, or halter-style.

Language lesson time! Underwear in Polish is pronounced ga-cheese (I'm not sure how to spell it.) It's Yiddish counterpart is gotkes (pronounced got-kees.)

Another something wonderful: I've been talking to my buddy Mike recently (we dated very briefly last June; he disappeared but later surfaced in January) and a few days ago we hung out at this great little hidden-jem bar in the middle of Detroit. Truly a great weird place. It's a Vietnam Veteran bar on Cass called The Old Miami and it is awesome! In the middle of the hood (seriously!) this little bar has a beautiful backyard with a koi pond and a big tree with a rope for swinging and bird feeders all over the place. It's truly an inner-city oasis. Back to Mike. He's just a friend; it's much better that way, but he is also the perfect dark and brooding tortured soul of my dreams. He's about 50 times more sad and depressing than I'll ever be. I'm extremely attracted to guys like that, but in the end it's very emotionally draining and damaging. I have no one else to hang out with who's willing to listen to my wet-blanket tales of woe. He likes to listen to them. He also likes to listen to Leonard Cohen. A lot. I'm going to a Tigers game with him on Tuesday. Should be interesting.

This would be the perfect time...

for me to get embroiled in a Scarecrow & Mrs. King-esque scenario. My schedule is completely open and I'm the last person in the world anyone would suspect to be a super spy.


I'd love to tell everyone that I work for a dull documentary film company (ala Scarecrow) and actually risk getting kidnapped by the Russians or Libyans every week. Then my totally odd-couple, way-too-hot-for-real-life partner would save me in the nick of time.

Alas, the chances of meeting a hottie super-spy secret agent in Sterling Heights, Michigan are slim to none. The closest representative from a governmental agency would probably be from the IRS and they're hardly clandestine.

I'm getting the hang of this...

I've just about mastered the unemployed loaf lifestyle. It's 2:18 pm, I've spent the better part of the morning and early afternoon watching old episodes of The X-Files on DVD while eating string cheese in bed. I'm still wearing a towel from my shower (much earlier) and I'm working up the initiative to figure out how to work my iPod. Also, thanks to Egan, I've got Dairy Queen on the mind. This funk needs to end!

Mulholland Drive...

Either I'm getting cinematically soft in the head, or David Lynch passed me up years ago. I just finished watching Mulholland Drive and am completely confused. I knew what was happening for the first 2/3 movie...the got totally lost. Can someone help me out??? Please???

I'm a huge David Lynch fan and have seen almost everything he's done (except for Eraserhead, which is on my list) and I should be able to follow the plot, but I'm baffled and am feeling slightly dumb. And now my head hurts. I miss the days of a good ol' severed ear.

Also, I must investigate Justin Theroux.

Go Giacomo!!! (or Hey buddy, why the long face?)

In honor of this year's long shot victory for Giacomo, I shall disclose that I'm not too far away from my competitive jockey weight of 105 pounds. Since I'm a hair under 5'2", this is quite do-able, healthwise. I plan on attending next year's Kentucky Derby in person, I shall wear a divine hat and I shall drink at least one mint julip. As for the horses, that's a totally different story. I may weigh as much as a jockey, but I'll leave them to the paid professionals: horses scare the shit out of me. It has something to do with their hooves and teeth. Also, I'm extremely allergic to them.

Old crush, revisited...

I was just thinking back to the good old days. Times were simpler, the air smelled sweeter, the days were longer and the hottie musicians were dressed as pirates with warpaint. Yes, that's right: Adam Ant (during his Prince Charming phase, I believe!)


While my buddies were in the throes of pre-adolescent loovvee with bands such as Poison and Bon Jovi, I had a certain affection for Mr. Ant. Although he's currently fallen on hard times, I'll never forget what we had together. How the cassette to his "Strip" album became a permanent fixture in my car...okay, it got stuck in the tape player, or how he had a starring role in an obscure made-for-TV movie called "Out of Time" that aired in 1988; he was on the cover of TV Guide and I taped it to my bedroom wall. I was eleven when it aired, yet for reasons I will never quite understand I remember the movie clearly. He was also awesome in this otherwise crappy made-for-TV movie I saw on Lifetime called "Love Bites" in which he played a vampire. His vampire character went into hibernation 300 or so years ago and was reanimated in today's Boston or Philadelphia. It was iffy, but he was quite attractive.

Maybe it's time to break out the warpaint, just for old time's sake.

Buy my stuff...

Instead of sitting around, doing nothing and making no money, I've decided to sit around, do nothing, and at the same time get rich quick (yeah, right) and de-clutterize my life. Check out my list of eBay listings under the "Cool Stuff" links heading. Unbelievably, some of my stuff is actually selling! I'm thinking about selling some Lily Pulitzer items in the near future, so those will probably get bidded up, I hope. This unemployment is a time of completely starting over from fresh and a time of new experiences. I've also been making a dent in my "Countdown to 30" list, but mostly by doing stupid stuff like throwing out old makeup and reading. I've got to start aiming higher (well, the Air Force isn't an option anymore.)

A burning crock of shit...

A few weeks ago, I attended a fashion show fundraiser held by the mom's club of my high school. At each place at the table was a goodie bag filled with hand creams, makeup samples and perfume testers...including "Paris Hilton" the signature of the one and only. On the little card that held the sample is written this unbelievably lame statement. Here it is word for word, just as it is written:

Paris Hilton

Paris is sharing the spotlight
with her first perfume

Like Paris herself, it is Mysterious, Intriguing
and Beautiful. Rich in its appeal, it defines
that moment in time when powerful sensuality
and breath-taking beauty are captured in a
way that
all can enjoy

Share a bit of the magic
that is Paris Hilton.
Find out what it smells
like to be a Star

Um, okay. What the fuck does any of that bullshit mean? "Defines that moment in time when powerful sensuality and breath-taking beauty are captured..." thank God we've got scientists capable of manipulating space and time so all future generations can experience this shit!

As part of "Non-Workday #3" I cleaned my bathroom, found the sample and thought "What the hell, I'll give it a try." It sorta smells like Bounce original-scent dryer sheets and it has given me an awful burning rash on my wrists. My rash isn't "Mysterious, Intriguing and/or Beautiful." It's nasty, odd-colored and irritating...much like Paris Hilton! Hey, I just might be onto something here!

Superficial good and bad news...

I went to a job fair this afternoon. Not too much action there. The U.S. Border Patrol looks promising. As I was getting dressed I realized that my new, never worn except for when I bought it, Kasper size 4P suit is a bit roomy. The revelation was more like this: Holy shit!!! I'm a size 4 on the bottom and a size 2 on top!!! I bought it this weekend and it really is awesome, but I was probably bloated when I tried it on. It's black, knee length, and stylish (no huge shoulder pads or big shiny buttons.) Simple and classic. Unfortunately, I look like a mortician in in. It needs a burst of colour. On the upside, I look like a badass, cute suit wearin' mortician!

The Unemployment Chronicles Part I...

Well, I am definitely unemployed. I'm at a crossroads, God has closed the door and I'm waiting for that window to open...cliche, blah, blah, even more overused cliche, blah, blah, blah. I've heard it all. As much as I would love to sit around all day in my ratty red plaid bathrobe and slippers, I won't let myself do it. To be more precise, my parents won't let me do it, but I don't want to be that unemployed loser, almost 30, who stopped changing clothes, started drinking heavily stereotype. It could happen; I can see it happening without much difficulty.

Here I am. I'm turning 28 next month and I'm still having the same never-ending question spinning through my mind: what do I want to be when I grow up? Here are my options:

1. Writer. I could easily see myself writing all day long. Happily sitting at Starbucks drinking cup after cup of coffee while letting the muse do her best. Maybe if the writer's block ever goes away. It's been with me for almost two years. This is when people get inspired to start writing: after losing one's job, getting dumped, or having a freak out. Since two of the three occur on a semi-regular basis for me, I should be breaking the block any time now.

2. Librarian. I am over halfway finished at Wayne State. It would be a shame to throw away all the time, effort and money I spent on the program. Unfortunately, I'm completely burnt out on the library thing for the foreseeable future. Maybe I'll re-examine this option in a few weeks or so. The job market isn't looking very good right now.

3. Professional chef. I love to cook. Maybe I should look into Schoolcraft College's program. This isn't a very serious option, but it does exist.

There are other ideas floating around my noggin, but I'm too exasperated to think much right now. Tomorrow I plan to sleep until I wake up, shower, get dressed adequately and drive my bad self over to Michigan Works! (The exclamation point is part of the name, I believe) to file a resume with the state as a stipulation of the unemployment benefits thingie (I don't want to leech off the system, but it would be nice to have a bit of money each week for gas, bills and other expenses.) Unfortunately, Michigan Works! is a block away from my old office. I hope I don't see anyone I know/knew. On that first non-work workday, I also plan on having a little bit of fun, but mostly that is involving reading Dr. Zhivago at Dunkin Dounts. Maybe I'll go to the gym. God, my life is dull.

Hi Everyone!

I'm just checking in to let everyone know that I'm still alive...but I officially got canned today, so my sabbatical may be prolonged even further. My existance sucks right now but it's 2:37 in the afternoon and I've been drunk since 1:30 so it's all good.

Goodbye for now...

I will be taking a sabbatical from blogging for the next week or two. I sincerely doubt anyone really wants to read about my never-ending string of fabulous dates which go sour very quickly. Or my soon-to-be state of unemployment. Or my current cancer freak out. I'm way too depressed to put anything into words right now.

Anyone's fortune can change in a week. Maybe even mine.

I'll be stopping by and visiting all my buddies during this span, but don't be surprised if I just lurk and don't contribute anything to the comments and/or conversation.

Until later,

Jen

It's that time of the year again...

This morning, I was visited by the Cancer Fairy. Actually she's the "Fear of Cancer" Fairy, very similar to the actually Cancer Fairy, except she wears a fluffy green dress instead of a pink one. It's time for my six-month screening and now I'm freaked because of the insurance issue. What if cancer is found, I locate a new job, and am denied insurance coverage due to a pre-existing condition? I'm sure this won't happen because I'll be perfectly healthy and in tip-top shape, but there is still that chance.

Survey...

I love filling out surveys like this.

THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:
1. Jen
2. J-Sto
3. That library girl

THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:
1. Preciousjen
2. Jendawgy
3. No #3

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. My eyes
2. My sense of humor
3. My goofed-up brain

THREE THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. The beginnings of arthritis
2. My side profile
3. My attention span

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. Polish (that's all)
2.
3.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. David Copperfield (magician, not Dickens)
2. Monkeys
3. Dying a childless spinster

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. Coffee
2. NPR
3. Reading

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. Black and white striped Picasso-style boatneck sweater
2. Black Old Navy pants
3. Ill-fitting bra

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE BANDS (or artists (at the moment)):
1. The Pixies
2. The Clash--I'm getting retro
3. The Carpenters--One of my many deep, dark secrets

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1. "Dance Me to the End of Love" - Leonard Cohen
2. "Just Like Starting Over" - John Lennon
3. "Modern Love" - David Bowie

THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. Making money
2. Running a half-marathon
3. Taking a real vacation

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (love is a given):
1. Mental compatibility
2. Affection
3. Similar goals in life

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE
1. I have a solid gold molar
2. I love reptiles
3. I collect Precious Moments figurines

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. Eyes
2. Height (over 5'8")
3. Shape--I prefer thin guys

THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN'T DO:
1. Sing
2. Dance
3. Roll my R's

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. Reading
2. Running
3. Cooking

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. Take a nap
2. Get a French manicure
3. Go to White Castle

THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING:
1. Fiction writer
2. Librarian
3. Elementary school teacher

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Washington DC
2. Prague
3. London

THREE KID'S NAMES:
1. Julian
2. Jane
3. Lydia

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. Meet Mr. Wonderful (if he exists) and get married
2. Write my novel
3. Be genuinely happy

Atlas Shrugged countdown...

I'm on page 773 of 1069! I should finish by tomorrow morning.

Chill...

The general consensus among my friends at work is that Mr. Date might possibly still be interested in me, but that I need to settle down and not seem too insecure and needy. My friend Denise said something to the effect that if he's not interested, he'll be missing out on the best person in the world. I got a bit misty after she said that. I need to work on my self-confidence issues. I need a total makeover, inside and out. Since this time last year, I've shed twenty five pounds. It doesn't sound like much, but on a small-boned, 5'2" body the loss is really noticeable. I'm looking better than ever, but inside I'm still the same overweight, gawky, lonely girl I always was.

Yes, I know it was just one date and I shouldn't be getting my hopes up. At the same time, I rarely find anyone I have even one thing in common with. This time it just seemed different.

For all I know, he's reading this. Who knows? If so, welcome to the truth about me.

As of right now, I'm no longer writing about him in this blog. I've got other things I should be worrying about: school, career, my future unemployment and the fact that I can't find another job. The thought that I should explore the world of teaching is another thing that is scaring the hell out of me at the present time.

Oh goodie, a lifestyle for me...

From today's edition of The Onion:

80 Percent of All Hermits Recovering From Broken Hearts

AMHERST, MA—According to conclusions reached by researchers at the University of Massachusetts, four-fifths of the world's dedicated recluse population were once luckless in love. "We have conclusively linked heartsickness to the behavior of dwelling in remote mountaintop caves, in bramble-covered forest huts, and on nameless unmapped islands," professor of solitary psychology Ludwig Meyer said Monday. "The loss of a lifetime's one true love seems to be enough to drive some people into splendid isolation in arctic regions and trackless jungle wilds." The study noted that the remaining 20 percent of hermits were driven from human contact by the desire to run naked around the woods, urinating though their knee-length beards.

Yes, I did hear back from Mr. Saturday Night Date, but he only responded to my "I had a great time" email with a short message that seemed a bit obligatory. He's busy, I know that for sure, but I get the feeling that he's not interested in me anymore.

What the hell am I doing wrong???

Things I'll miss about Detroit...

Apart from financial security and all my work friends, there are a handful of things I'll definitely miss about the big city when my employment ends sometime very soon. Here are a few things I'll especially miss:

--The guy who works in the toll booth at JLA who blows me a kiss every day. His gesture makes me feel all fuzzy inside daily.
--Seeing semi-celebrity look alikes on the ride in. Today I saw a guy who looks exactly like Frank Zappa.
--Being within a few miles of the DIA.
--Spending my lunch hour on the riverfront.
--Seeing Canada every day.
--The people who recognize me at Starbucks.
--The strong stink of urine in the air every morning...oh wait, I won't miss that one.

They began interviewing for my job today and I haven't heard from Mr. Trivial Pursuit Date yet, so instead of feeling sorry for myself, I took a mental holiday 1/2 day, spent some time out in the sun and started canvassing the area for a new gig. Starbucks is starting to look promising.

Really pissy Monday.

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!