She Bites, Yes.

Hi, My Name is Joj. And I Suffer From Insomnia At The Worst Possible Times Ever.

2011-05-26T00:06:00.003-04:00

So I drew a picture to show you my world right now.

That salmon-colored blob is supposed to represent the very handsome, very not-salmon-in-real-life PTR. I did a bad job at portraying his machismo. Perhaps Salmon was a bad choice, but it's too late to turn back. Anyway, he didn't get any sleep last night either, probably less than me and I only got around 2 hours. So I'm genuinely happy he's peacefully sleeping as of 1030. And making a weird bubbly snorey noise. It's ok. I'm happy for him. It's 1am, 2.5 hours later and I wish I could be so lucky.

Then there's the alarm clock. Which is set 7 minutes ahead. Prudent. Wise. An adult thing to do to ensure responsible timing. It might not seem like much, but when that alarm clock is judging you as midnight creeps towards you - those 7 minutes are a critical threat. This is the reason I haven't owned a real alarm clock in about 7 years. (Hooray iPhone!)

See those blue music note things? They're meant to represent the incessant waves of car stereos from the intersection outside of our house - usually playing something like this (wait for the chorus), or this (make sure you experience the horns AND the beat). [Not to be confused with the Static-y radio program (Wendy Williams?) our neighbor leaves on, very loud, with much bass, overnight, when she's not at home (RE: last night and why we got no sleep).
I'd make those kind of music notes 10x bigger - and orange - and on fire.]

Next up - those blue dots on the sheets on the mattress-foreground. That's because I was too tired to cook. And we both stood in the kitchen and looked around at things. For maybe a solid and silent 45-90 seconds. Silently opening cabinet doors, shifting around to open others. And declared that the turkey should likely go in the freezer if we're not making it tonight. And then it happened: PTR boldly declared "Let's just order delivery Crab Rangoon and get it over with." MY MAN! Too bad I was too tired that it fell out of my bowl and oil stained the sheets. ...Yes, I eat in bed sometimes. Spare me the lecture of how I'm nose-diving towards being one of those obese people who have to use a rag on a stick to bathe. I'm tired; therefore I eat like the Romans - lounge style. ....without the vom.

See that hall light? The blazing beacon of bathroom stumble guidance? I cant sleep in the dark unless there's at least natural light - like the moon (I think. I've never slept under the moon... and opening the curtains here would only saturate me with more "Gasolina".). Anyway, it's not for fear of the dark - just for paranoia - that I cant find my water glass, or god forbid my phone at 3:30 am when I need to do a goog. I'm a control freak. But a 100w bulb is way beyond my comfort level. it's threatening. And if I turn away? That damn alarm clock is back to taunting me.

The last thing that i notice during my insomnia bouts is the open closet door. I cant go into detail, but does anyone else have a major OCD hang-up (no pun intended) with open doors? Because I do. And right now it's all I can think about.

I think it might be Nyquil time.

Short Story

2011-04-03T19:36:00.004-04:00

So, yesterday I thought it'd be a good idea to start a short story. Just because most other peoples' stories bore me to death. I don't pretend I'm a good writer, much less an entertaining one.

Below is the beginnings. Think I should go on?

CHAPTER 1

Jane Hall State Prison
Pennsylvania
Autumn - 2011

My name is Leslie Morris, everyone calls me Leroy. I’m 34 years old. I have no mother and no father either. Ive been here 16 years because I got nowhere else to go - but I keep to myself.

It’s been two weeks now. We’re hungry. Only food we got is whats locked in our cells with us - that’s mostly gone at this point. I have some crackers in my bedpost the others don’t know about.

Some of the others are starting to wonder whats really happening on the outside, the rest of them say they don’t care because they’ll never BE back out there to find out.

Ten days since the radios went out. Eight since the lights. I keep my notebook for all kinds of things, and that’s how I know it’s been 14 whole days just us locked up ones. I miss Nurse Bone. That’s her real name too - Nurse Bone. She’s nice to me - calls me “Mister Morris”. I think she knows I don’t have nobody else.

It’s almost dark now, and we can hear the screaming start. Far enough - gotta be outside the gates - off the prison grounds, but it’s close enough to know it’s not all the way in town. Only thing you can hear from town is the fireworks in July. Wouldn’t hear anything else - especially someone gettin’ eaten alive. That’s my idea about what's goin on. I can’t see it, but that’s the only thing I can imagine would get a person to make the kind of noises they’ve been makin’ at night.

When that screaming starts, we all stop doing whatever we’re doing and listen until it’s all the way dark. After the sun starts to come up in the morning hours, the screaming slows down - it gets quiet again. We hold still and it seems like we barely move or breathe til it gets quiet - even the ones that say they dont care. Maybe it’s because we’re scared. Maybe it’s because we don’t know why they’re screaming. For whatever reason, it’s starting to happen for another night and I’m hungry but I say to myself, nothing about our bodies matter as long as we got ‘em.

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 5

2011-02-04T14:48:00.003-05:00

So last night I ended up doing Kettle Bell, and passing out later than I should have. I weighed in this morning at a total loss of 4lbs again.

Today is another shake day, here's the meal plan for the day:

Breakfast: Isalean shake
Snack: Honeycrisp apple
Lunch: Kashi Lemongrass Coconut Chicken
Snack: Probably another apple.
Dinner: Another Isalean shake.

Exercise: My lovie Fred and I are gonna hep-it like the old folks and go mall walking tonight. Hopefully we can get a few miles in and I can get some great new costume jewelery to reward myself? Thankfully the food court was never much of a draw for me.

I'm getting bored, and I'm craving a glass of wine; it IS a Friday night. But I know one glass leads to more glasses, so I'm going to try to make it through to Sunday without, treat myself just a little for superbowl party, and then cleanse on Monday and Tuesday.

I can do this. I'm almost there.

Hopefully I can get to 7 pounds loss as a result of this 9 day program. Ideally, I need to lose 60, but I'll take 7.

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 4

2011-02-03T20:46:00.002-05:00

Day Four: Shake Day... I got to eat!

Food:
2 Isa Shakes
1 honeycrisp apple
The veggies off the top of a loaded veggie pizza (do you know how hard that is to do???)
French Onion Soup
1/2 of a dressingless grilled chicken caesar salad

Exercise: I haven't done anything yet, but i'll likely do situps and pushups later.

As of this morning, total weight loss was 4 pounds, but I weighed myself again tonight and I'll have to fairly count it as -3.8. Dangit.

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 3

2011-02-02T14:45:00.002-05:00

It's day three; my second Cleanse Day and... I. AM. HUNNNNGRY.

I decided to eat some mixed greens just now to stop my mental obsession with my empty belly. This is technically considered a "fail", but you try not eating anything solid or substantial for two days and tell me how you feel. Shut up, Petar.

So, here's how it is:

Food:
4, 8-ounce Cleanse Drinks
2 cups of field greens
2 isa snack pellets
1 honeycrisp apple

Exercise: Cleaning 1/3 inch of ice off of my Jeep Wrangler, falling off of Jeep Wrangler into a puddle, getting re-dressed in enough time to not be hideously late to work.

I didn't weigh myself this morning because I didn't have a scale at Petar's house. I'll post weight change tomorrow, hopefully with more loss.

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 2

2011-02-01T20:27:00.002-05:00

I decided to skip pre-cleanse day number 2 and jump right into the cleanse.

Food:
2 apples
4, 8-ounce cleanse drinks
2 isa snacks
1 cup of frozen fruit
1 cup frozen green beans cooked in organic chicken broth.
Water, water, water

Weight:
This morning I weighed in down 2.8 pounds from starting weight.

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 1

2011-01-31T09:52:00.003-05:00

Pre-cleanse day one of two.

Weighed in first thing this morning. Let's call it tare-weight 0. In future posts I'll list a +/- change.

Breakfast: Isa Shake
Lunch: Kashi Lemongrass Coconut Chicken
Snacks: 2 Honeycrisp apples
Dinner: Isa Shake

Exercise: Walking to and from my mechanic during the day, low impact kettle bell when I get home.

Wish me luck!

I almost urinated the couch

2010-12-09T21:31:00.002-05:00

We Totally Found A Dead Person

2010-10-19T02:33:00.009-04:00

So, many of you may have read on Facebook about how we FOUND A DEAD PERSON IN THE DESERT.

Let me give you a little back story:

This past weekend was my 29th birthday. Fred and I booked a trip to Las Vegas, with a list of things to do. One of which was to just go SEE the desert, and look around. I'd never seen a tumbleweed. I had no idea what United States of America desert included. Honestly, I'll admit: I expected camels. You heard me.

Much to my delight, Sarah & Gina (Super 2006 Elvis Road Trip Bestie, and her rockin' coworker, respectively) decided to join us in Vegas (From SLC, Utah) for the majority of out time there, and CONVENIENTLY were able to bring a metal detector from their place of employment for use in Nevada desert exploration.

So, two days before the end of our vacay, we decide to take a drive out at dusk and find a place to pull off the side of the road and wander just far enough in that it feels rugged, yet still be able to see the car - as I am a nervous nelly, and I have seen freaking Casino. I know there are mobsters in the dunes, I just know it. With the camels of course.

So, I'll tell the rest of the story with photos. Please enjoy.

Oh wait, before I start... Sarah & Gina brought a real live (dead) TUMBLEWEED as a b-day present. Check THIS out:

Alright, now we can go on...

First few shots of the "desert", looking for the perfect spot:

This is getting closer to what I was hoping for:

PERFECT! This place is delightfully desolate, has a pull off area, and even has lots of vantage points to find our way back to the car!:

I even made it over the minor dune in flip flops in an ACE Bandage. How could this go wrong?

Sarah tested out the metal detector before we set off on our trek. It worked:

Then I found some broken beer bottles.

And some creepy bones. Whatever could kill something with vertebrae this large could certainly take out a short, disabled east coast girl with an anxiety disorder. I'll admit at this point the sun was going down and I was starting to get a little spooked.

But THEN I heard that crackly beepy noise that you only hear on PBS treasure hunter specials. I turn to find Sarah swiftly on the scent:

Being the man, Fred offers to do the manual labor (and I'm sure lay claim to whatever goldmine we later uncover?):

Then I saw a trashbag begin to emerge:

And THEN I see what looks like a head?

Fred bashed with the shovel a bit more, as I screamed as HUMAN HAIR emerged:

From here, only a video can narrate. Please take special note of my nervous eye, and me falling as I try to run away (Scroll down after watching to see the aftermath):

Sorry for all the cussin'.

I am no longer an elvis fan, because this is what was inside:

And here you will see that I am still beyond terrified. But Sarah and Gina get credit for being the biggest assholes and best pranksters of all time. I am so happy to be alive.

And this is how we left him. If you want to go try it out for yourself, look for Snookified Elvis, he still has batteries:

What's the most perverted thing you've ever done?

2010-04-08T16:25:00.001-04:00

I grilled a live snail once. I still hate that about myself.

Ask me anything

formspring.me

2010-02-09T15:16:00.001-05:00

Ask me anything http://formspring.me/lecnessmonster

formspring.me

2010-02-09T15:12:00.001-05:00

People don't think of where we grew up as the south (it is)...that said: do you have an accent?

Well, I grew up in southern Chester County, so if you count a mild SEPA twang a southern accent, yes. While I was living in Tampa, I picked up a few little quirky phrases that I've since lost again... but nothing spectacularly country. Bummer, eh?

Ask me anything

formspring.me

2010-01-14T00:21:00.001-05:00

Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

According to a popular personality profiling tool, I am an extrovert. This means that I am motivated by a social environment. Not to be confused with going to a party and working the room. That wont happen unless I've got Vlad on my side.

Ask me anything

formspring.me

2010-01-14T00:12:00.001-05:00

What's the best place near you to get a pizza?

Pizza I don't really eat, but I'm getting started because I cant sleep: Culinary Deliveries is a staple; pure greasy-tomato-cheeks delight, and you don't even have to burn calories to run and get it because they're the only pizza joint that delivers allll the way out to my bumpkin self.

Ask me anything

Your Turn, Mate

2010-01-13T23:54:00.005-05:00

I've really kind of fallen off of this writing obsession. What little writing I DO do now, I do in private. And it's usually for theraputic reasons and incredibly uninteresting to the general public.

That said, I'm not going to apologize and instead I'm going to turn things around and put the guilt on you.

My friend Shawn started posting requests on facebook for anonymous questions from friends, which he will answer publicly. And I'm jumping on behind him because it's wonderfully brilliant.

I feel a little sheepish about copy-catting but then I remembered I just got a legitimate TV last month, so you cant blame me for being behind the times. Plus, I've been preoccupied with a number of serious things.

In any case, don't be shy:

http://www.formspring.me/lecnessmonster

Or:

http://www.formspring.me/lecnessmonster

Nor should you be modest.

Allons-Y!

looks down and...

2009-09-09T14:16:00.004-04:00

...*kicks dirt*

I feel like the kid who has ignored the charitable weekly visit to his grandmother's house for the past year. I have to admit, constant status updating on social networking sites detract from the amount of decent material I can blog about. And now, since I've finally accepted Facebook as my redheaded stepchild, I just cant stop beating it to death with updates of what I'm doing, in retribution for it's awful soul-lesness, stealing all my juicy vittles. I believe that's what we'd call a vicious cycle.

Now that Lady has blogged twice since we both decided that we were in a blogging rut, I feel compelled to tell you SOMETHING about what's going on in my life that you might not already know.

Since we last spoke, I've lost 12 pounds!

...And in one dazzling indulgent weekend in New England, I managed to gain it all back. Fail.

Impressive, huh? So here I sit, back to day #2 of punishing myself with a fully nutritious yet liquid diet to hopefully get to where I left off. At least the liquid is a form of chocolate (even if it's imposter, it still fills that void), and at least I do get to look forward to some fruit and salad every day. But why are there free sandwhiches today? :( And why is there free cake? :( :(

Speaking of which, some people just aren't meant for fedoras. I'm not trying to steal Lady's Miley Cirus thunder or anything, but reading her last entry brought into memory the leopard print Miley Cyrus fedora I tried on this weekend. Mind you, it was strewn behind some bags of potting soil in the garden section of walmart, I didn't go searching for it specifically, I just spotted the print with my natural internal African-wildlife-pelt-radar and was drawn in its general direction. Suffice to say, I looked like Borat's neighbor. You know the one: When Borat get clock radio, I can not afford. Just a little more jazzy and stylish.

Action Plan, Day One. Too busy for a clear shot.

2009-08-06T22:18:00.001-04:00

Very High Colonic?

2009-07-22T14:10:00.003-04:00

Kate and I pretty much have a lunchtime ritual at this point. It usually consists of getting in my car, putting the top down, and driving the longest route possible to end up at Genuardi's ("Nards") to ravish their amazing salad bar. Sometimes on the way back to the office, we'll hit the park and eat. Other days, like today, we take the remainder of our lunch break and tool around TJ Maxx or a random craft store.

Today was TJ Maxx and Ritz Camera, but before Nard's. Totally switching up the program.

I've been kind of obsessed with smelling good this summer so naturally once we arrived at TJ Maxx, I was distracted by the kiosk of slightly opened fragrances (that are in all honesty a pretty good deal compared to department store prices). Kate was drawn to the neighboring shelves of gourmet soaps, lotions, and bath products.

I was checking out and falling in love with an unused bottle of "Versace: Red Jeans" when Kate turned to me and said "Oh man, I love this stuff, my mom always uses these!". She held up what looked like a mini bottle of scented hand sanitizer. You know, like the kind at Bath & Body Works? She extended it toward my face to smell. I lean in as she applies a slight pressure, expecting a teeny puff of air to waft gently into my waiting olfactory system.

No such luck.

Instead of gentle air, the bottle must've had a rogue air pocket and I got a right nostril full of -not hand sanitizer- but citrus and basil hand soap. In the middle of TJ Maxx. To be fair, a little dripped onto my chin too.

Of course my first reaction was to laugh like a maniac - because it WAS hilarious, unintentional and perfect. What comes before laughter, though, my friends? Inhalation. Massive and uncontrollable inward breathing.

So now I have citrus basil handsoap dripping down the back of my throat.

30 minutes later, we're salad clad and arriving back to the office. I get here and walk briskly to the bathroom with a handful of industrial papertowels and pray for the auto faucets to allow me to referse snot rocket with their touchy sensors to flush out my head.

No such luck.

Now, it's 2-hours later. It burns. It smells like citrus and basil everywhere I go. And I didnt get new perfume because I couldnt smell it.

[To be fair to Kate, I couldn't afford it either :) ]

"No Offense" is offensive enough

2009-07-17T13:01:00.004-04:00

Dah da dahmmmmmm!

A lot of my time lately has been consumed with watching early Arnold Schwarz..en...eg..er (?) (sp?) movies. Hence leading me to have a more than usual abstract view of the world. Like, what if I had to cut out my own eye with an exact-o knife instead of a scalpel? It certainly wouldn't be a clean cut - those things go dull after the first slice through felt - let alone flesh and cartelidge.

Another question that came to mind is: Why hasn't Arnold (the real Arnold) lost his Austrian accent yet? My uncle moved to Georgia like 20 years ago, and you'd never know that he was born and raised in PA. He sounds like a natural southerner, slang and all. Arnold is still swishing around on youtube doing his Cali beg for help commercials sounding like a deaf WW2 vet. Ouch.

Another question I have for you is: Why are there so many pregnant people in my office? I've heard more than I'd care to about mucus plugs, waters breaking, failed labors resulting in emercency un-anestetized c-sectoins, and having to take a hand towel with you everywhere incase your water breaks unexpectedly. Since I've been in this department, I think there's been a total of 17 women on my floor who have had buns in their respective ovens. It's scary for someone like me who would do everything possible to personally avoid that scenario. Every day becomes more and more suffocating. The proverbial vaginal walls are closing in and I'm confused cat. (Too soon?)

Of course I support whatever brings joy to your world, and I too am happy that you're happy. With that said, studying cults and serial murders is a long-time interest of mine and I'm becoming tempted to rebut baby slime stories heard in the professional setting with facts about The Family International.

The key here is to recognize your audience. Usually, cynical girl with one ear-bud in who's glaring at some daunting design project is not the person who is going to know anything about what you're going through, and she's also the most likely to give bad advice. (ex: "Pounding a few cans of cheap beer seems to always help me with nausea!").

Just sayin'. I'm sorry that I am so bad at being a woman.

I forgot how much I missed being needed

2009-06-15T14:38:00.004-04:00

I got a new fish last week, his name is Tow Truck. Why Tow Truck? Because it's the first thing that came to mind, and it seems to fit him. He's pretty badass. He has an office.

I didn't realize how good it feels to have something so excited to see you. He was practically jumping OUT OF THE WATER this morning when I came into work. He kissed the glass and asked me kindly for some freeze dried blood worms. I fed him, and he showed his gratuity by building me a bubble nest. That's what Betas do.

It's so weird that something with a 7 second memory expresses his hapiness for your presence.

Also, my giant monogrammed cooler has arrived:

I am proud of my initials:

It Came!

2009-05-11T19:34:00.001-04:00

My nerd-dom has reached a new level:

introspective city!

2009-04-22T22:57:00.002-04:00

For years I've told myself that I don't fear anything.

Recently, I've found this notion to be false.

Tongiht, in light of recent events, I took some time to write down everything I am afraid of. I gave myself one hour, and went at it; stream-of-consciousness style.

I thought that opening my mind to my blog isnt a horrible idea. This is my personal place to say ..what *I* want! I do hope you understand. So. Here goes, as was jotted alongside the road \ in my moleskine notebook:

losing my best friend
my brother joining the army
my brother going to afghanistan
my brother dying
losing my job
staying in the same job for another 5 years
being broke
being too alone
gaining too much weight
going too crazy
crashing in a plane
hitting a deer
cancer, again
the supernatural
being stagnant and uncreative/boring
lack of appropriate degree
never being able to wear heels again
not looking/being attractive
compromising myself to give into my fears
coming off as weak
running out of money
never learning how to grow up
alcoholism/addiction
disease/promiscuity
being unwanted
annoying the ones I love
dying with no offspring
finding someone
not wanting children
do I travel enough?
seeing the world while I can
being content where I am/wanderlust
losing my family to something else
losing my friends to something else
my family making poor financial decisions
investments
opinions of my work supervisors
not having a passion, not caring
facial hair
ebola
biological warfare
going to places alone
math
STD's
the dark- why am I so afraid?
anxiety attacks in meetings/social situations
being a disappointment to family
bringing a man home to my parents
meeting that man
facing commitment
making life mistakes in general
becoming too comfortable
becoming too comfortable alone
being on medication
babies
infection
no one wants to hear my fears
and my worries
sinning
lack of religion
not appearing to be happy
not being happy

So, that's that. Pure from the heart.

Video credit: CHUCK

Not The Energy Drink

2009-04-10T10:44:00.004-04:00

I've finally decided what I want to do when I grow up. I want to be a rock star. Not just any rock star, but a gyspy punk rock star. It'd definitely help if I was Romani & angry... Can I fake it? I must admit that my motivation lies behind being particularly interested lately in Eugene Hutz, and my love for Gogol Bordello.

Today, I want to be something completely opposite. Today, this Good Friday of corporate office monotony that offers nothing but decaf coffee (with a li'l bit o'cream & 3 Splendas), annoying sounds and donut holes. Today, I should be consumed in sweaty, crazy dancing and lyrical wonderment of my (non?)struggle towards creative and social enlightenment. Alas, I'm not now nor have ever been musically talented... and I don't really like crowds or sweat. Ha.

Please, please don't misunderstand my message. I appreciate my life. I'm happy to have a job. An apartment lease. A car payment. Daily vitamins, and premium gasoline. I guess I never thought I'd spend 5 years of my life working for a corporation, much less in "HR". At this point, it could likely be qualified as a "career". GAH! I'm a Career-Woman?! Just because this isn't my dream, doesn't mean I don't enjoy it. ...Sometimes. Now that I think about it, I feel like what I really enjoy is the interaction with my coworkers, and not the work itself. I mean, I could make a hell of a lot more money if I just did contract design work 20 hours a week. But now is NOT the time for freelance designers. (Especially self-taughts like myself [yeah! Perhaps I AM a bit of a gypsy after all!].)

It doesn't seem as though rock stars are affected by economic crisis. Especially when they're currently squatting in Rio De Janeiro. Then again, most rock stars don't have health insurance or a 401K, or a convertible miata :) I just feel bored, despite being so busy and stressed that I'm having middle of the night anxiety fits. I think the trigger of my emotional wanderlust is from evolving into some beast creature I never thought I'd be. And being somewhat content with it. So now, I must punish my brain for being stuck in a normal and comfortable zone.

I should shut up and be grateful for what I've got. Maybe I could just date a gypsy punk instead? That'd be some excitement, and the prospect of it is motivating me to start scouring craigslist... If only gyspy punks could afford the internet.

I do love it, sometimes.

2009-04-08T13:21:00.003-04:00

I owe you more than just screen shots, since I haven't posted in a while... But I have been miserable today and my coworker made me smile. I had to share:

Blood Gone Dry

2009-03-10T21:53:00.005-04:00

This isn't the first time I've blogged about pickles. This isn't the first time I've left the gym with a craving for dill pickles that would not be ignored. So, with pickles being diet Friendly, I justified the trip to the grocery store (or "market", as LWin says), and headed right to the condiments row.

I arrived in that beautiful zone of green jars and was presented with a conundrum: 1 quart for $2.49, or 1 GALLON of pickles for $4.39. The thought of "wow, its kind of embarrassing to buy a gallon of pickles when you're still sweaty and in spandex, all by yourself..." went through my head. As did "shit, I didn't get a basket and I still need tea and bags o'salad...".

So what do I do? Decide that a gallon beats a quart, and so does the price, and go to the front of the store and snatch the first basket I peep out (the hand-carry kind, big mistake when we're talking a gallon of pickles.) and race back to claim my prize.

I struggled with my sore post-workout-muscles to lug my new baby

around the rest of the store, but did so and felt triumphant. Until I got to the register.

Don't get me wrong, Linda is probably the nicest late-night checker I've ever met. She left the massive jar as the last thing to be scanned, and while I tried to ignore the act, Linda paused with it in her hands, lifted it to her face-level, and asked "Now what *I* wanna know is whos blood's goin' dry!?" Now, I didn't know that when you crave pickles, it means your blood needs wettening, but I quickly smiled and replied "Me! They're all mine!", and proceeded to say "...the worst part is, I live alone." Linda suffered a coronary from laughter, and went on to criticize my bagging technique. She argued that if I put everything in one paper bag, it'd all fall out the bottom and lose my pickles. I begged her to trust me, and promised I'd hold it like a baby, and promised to let her approve my carrying style before i left her line.

She did, I did, and she did.

And I ate two pickles as soon as I got home. Win.

Catholic Guilt

2009-03-08T11:22:00.004-04:00

What on earth did I ever do to make Facebook think that I am Mel Gibson??

In my line of work, you learn that the things you do on the internet directly relate to the ads you see, so this bothers me more than you know:

Now I'm going to have to convert just so I feel better :(

WarFace: Game On

2009-03-03T09:30:00.006-05:00

Two of my dear friends, BoneJunior and Kate, have gotten themselves into some sort of long-distance sparring over MagnumPI and his vacation. The saga continues as Magnum PII has reveled himself in the confines of our office in Kennett Square, seemingly protesting the vacation that MagnumPI is taking with BoneJunior in Utah.

BoneJunior, it seems that MagnumPii has struck back. Again.

After a snow day yesterday, where only one person made it to the office (Kate) because she's a re-re, I found a peppering of photos from her in my email, of MagnumPii with friends. Friends he met on my desk. This evil doppelganger of the original Magnum continues to terrorize the PA sector with his foul stench and crafty permanent-skid-marks on curious & stealthily placed post-it notes.

The feeling I received while viewing the photos was one that I would liken to ...being away on vacation, and watching national news footage of your home burning to the ground: Violation, desperation, and general helplessness.

Anyway, here's the visual, for your enjoyment:

Snowbot did a fantastic job of guarding against the defiling our faces.

Dangerously close to skidmarking on the mini-stand-up Elvis.

Ironically, the above mini-replica of Rob (as Bigfoot) was a birthday gift from BoneJunior. He knows it, too, see how he asserts domination.

Perhaps today will bring another chapter in the developments of Magnum and his evil twin. Perhaps not. I post here as evidence to you that I have no life and continue to live vicariously through Inanimate objects: A marker, and his twin, and the travels and epic drama that ensue once my friends become involved.

Stay tuned...

Magnum Does Not Take Kindly To Secret Twin

2009-02-27T22:36:00.001-05:00

It Breeds

2009-02-27T16:11:00.001-05:00

In response to a recent kidnapping:

There's apparently a Magnum II. Damn you, Kate.

The Eagle Has Landed

2009-02-27T11:48:00.005-05:00

Safely in Provo, UT.

Since my coworkers insisted on continuing to use Magnum when I am around, I stole him and sent him on a little vacation. He's going to spend some time int he wild-west-with one of my best friends, BoneJunior.

Magnum is jet-lagged so he's resting safely in BoneJunior's cubicle. He asked me to send his best wishes along with a few snapshots, and promised to pass along more photos of himself when he's rested and ready for big excursions to the Utah mountains, and other local attractions.

Upon Arrival in Utah

Already making new friends, but that's no surprise

Noxious, P.I.

2009-02-18T14:16:00.006-05:00

We all have those things that drive us absolutely batty in the office and sometimes you cant take the irritation and headaches anymore, so you fly off the handle and order your coworkers some fume-less Sharpie mega markers so they don't have to use the smelly ones and give you migraines.

Meet Magnum:

I personified him with a photo of Tom Selleck as a reference to Magnum, P.I., the hit show of the 80's. Not only because because he is not allowed to be used in the office anymore when I'm around, but also because it's a reminder that Tom Selleck is a big, smelly tool.

Along with Magnum, other things I have forbidden the usage of while I am in the office is as follows:

Lauren's instant maple oatmeal
Rob cutting his fingernails while he's on the phone
Rob emailing me cartoons or skits that I have to "read"
Kate mooning me unintentionally when she wears that one skirt
Repetitive over-use of the paper cutter
Pregnant lady terminology
Derek's ninja moves

Fittingly, Kate just used Magnum, so I stole him and am plotting his death.

It's that kind of Monday.

2009-02-16T11:15:00.003-05:00

Feel free to stop by my cube and use my Jump To Conclusions Mat.

Anytime.

Thanks, Frank.

2009-02-13T11:32:00.004-05:00

Even though you've been married for 30 years and are 100% dedicated to your wife, (and I'd have no interest in dating you anyway... [Not because you're not adorable, you're just a little out of my age range and I don't date people I work with...]), your Valentine's Day Carnation & Baby's Breath favor was appreciated more than you'll ever know, especially since I was the only girl in my row you gave one to, and now I feel like I am kind of loved even though the card that you tied on had a printed label with my name written in, thanking me for my customer service 24/7.

My horoscope today gives me a slight ego boost, though:

C'mon, social life... bustamove! I know I've got plans this weekend, but momma needs some winin' and dinin'!

I guess that's all there is to report from my beige jungle of office life today. Perhaps there will be more to come later.

I'll buy that for $2.99/(aka: itemized list of trip details )

2009-02-08T20:14:00.008-05:00

I decided to go see a good buddy this weekend up in "New England" (*if Enterprise asks, I was just going to central PA). Her name is Emily.

It was a pretty amazing, and pretty fast trip; I left Friday afternoon, and got back at 6pm today (Sunday). Since Beastie has been a little out of whack, I rented* a sweet whip:

Be it smug, it was the best decision of my life. $20 in gas, round trip.

I got to Em & Paul's late on Friday and we went out for Thai at Chadda Box. I giggle every time I say the name "Chadda Box", for oh so many reasons.

Saturday we tooled around, bought stuff, saw stuff, ate AWESOME veg Indian food and Girl Scout Cookies. Quite the combo! When we got home, Em and I busted into the Chuck and followed it up wtih Black Margaritas, totally stealing that recipe:

2 parts Tequila

1 part Chambord

1 part Blue Caracao

Splash of sour mix & cranberry juice

glug glug glug, it goes down so easily. Regarde, in the shaker cup:

After a ridiculously huge pancake breakfast, I drove back to PA on Sunday and was sad to leave Em & Paul, LuLu & Kirby. Check out my FB album for photo documentation.

While I was there, I did manage to score a buncha great shopping deals, and most of them were eerily the same price: $2.99. A handfull of sweaters and a red romper, (Yes, a romper. Photos are forthcoming.) Oh, more importantly, a case of wine, $2.99 per bottle... and its to die for.

Unrelated to my travels, I just purchased tickets to go to Monster Jam on Sunday. I finally found a friend who agrees to go along with me. You have no idea how excited I am. This is kind of the perfect Valentines Day event... despite me being the cynical bastard I am, and despite the weekend having no aspects of romance involved... I'm OK with it.

Water?

2009-01-27T10:32:00.003-05:00

You've probably heard about all the fires in Coatesville. At this point, it's got coverage on National news and there's no solution in sight.

I can always count on my family to get lawmakers motivated. Mom's the one in this video, wearing a brown hat, outdoors.

I'm going to go to the Coatesville City Council meeting tomorrow with my fam, if for nothing else, to take pictures and videos, and watch people get angry. I'm not a city resident, but my heart is there... despite the nay-sayers (and there are a lot of them), Coatesville was a culture-rich place to grow up.

Mom is right, this really is a desperate situation. My dad doesn't sleep at night, I'm sure he's not alone. The current advice from the city and local law enforcement to residents is to "keep porch lights on", and "get dogs". Get dogs? Seriously? Most of the residents are renters and are not permitted to have pets. If they were, I'd love to see what PETA would have to say about leaving them outside all night in sub-zero temperatures. I'm of the opinion of putting bear traps in the back yard. That is, if you don't have kids or pets. And make sure you post a notice on your fence that your yard is trapped so you dont get sued later for trying to defend your home.

On a positive note, I have to give props to the people I've seen on the news, for not being ghetto, and for reppin' the city in a good light.

It's insanely scary to know that your family is in such danger, for no good reason.

Stay tuned for pictures from tomorrow's meeting.

Chances are, you've already read this.

2009-01-26T11:46:00.000-05:00

25 Things You Might Not Know About The Joj:

1. During my first month in college, I referred to my best friend by the wrong first name. His real name was Scott, but I called him Drew, because of his screen name. It took him a few weeks to bring it up, as I recall.

2. I despise mint chocolate chip icecream, but crave it when I'm sick.

3. I don't want to learn how to play Poker, or drink white wine. I think both are sorely over-fashioned.

4. I name every statue, robot, animal, and toy I own. Sometimes even personifying abnormal things, and naming them too. Like my car, Beastie.

5. Its a rare occasion that I will answer the phone while I'm driving, standing in line, or am in the company of someone else. I think it can be dangerous/inconsiderate. So, in essence, i'll probably only answer when I'm home alone, or when I'm going through the car wash.

6. 70% of my best friends live more than 100 miles away.

7. I really like bitterly-flavored things. (Hoppy beers, dark olives, rotten cheeses.)

8. Consuming pecans, walnuts, or high amounts of citric acid (like sour candies) will make the inside of my mouth swell and peel. It's sexy, I do it all the time.

9. I'm only a sucker for romantic songs which are sung by male vocalists.

10. Sometimes I introduce myself to strangers (whom I never intend to meet again) as "James", and explain how it is indeed a name for girls.

11. If i was in a survival situation, I am pretty sure I'd make it out alive unless it involved snow or water. With snow, I would fall asleep because a freezing death is the least painful. Out of all the ways to go, I don't think I'd mind that so much. Its ironic, I hate the cold. With water, I would be frightened so bad, I would probably die from that - even before the sharks got there.

12. Every time I leave a loved one, or hang up the phone while talking to a loved one, I say "I love you". I thought that was fairly common practice, but I've found that among my peers, it is not.

13. "I love you" were my first words.

14. I have to tuck my hands into something tight to fall asleep. I usually have to wear something with deep pockets, or cram my hands under my pillow if I'm sleeping on my belly, and twist them up in the sheets.

15. 90% of my belongings in my home were inherited.

16. I'm scared to death of the dark, but love sleeping in it.

17. I adore "The Thong Song", for far too many reasons to list. None of those reasons are what you're imagining.

18. I usually brush my teeth with hot water, and I let it run the entire time. I'm an environmentally conscious hypocrite.

19. I can offer an herbal or homeopathic remedy for almost any malady or illness without referencing a book or the interwebs.

20. I didn't like over-easy eggs, green olives, or chicken wings until 2008.

21. I'm uneasy with the thought of receiving an expensive engagement ring one day, because I'll likely lose or break it.

22. I'd like to explore becoming a Quaker, if I ever get serious about religion.

23. I have an unusual and ill-advised love affair with cotton swabs. Must be paper stem, Q-Tip brand when affordable.

24. Ultra Fine Sharpies are my premiere writing instrument. I have received Ultra Fine Sharpie multi-packs as a gift every birthday for the last 5+ years. I am surprised and pleased every year.

25. I am thrilled to not have any female siblings. I love having brothers, more than anything else in the world.

I Respect Your Privacy

2009-01-20T10:49:00.002-05:00

Apparently writing about common things in life runs in my family. I'm sitting at my parents' house, waiting for Beastie to be repaired at the mechanic, and I discover that someone has left my youngest brother's journal out on the table. For a moment, I wondered if I should ask before reading? That notion quickly passed as I realize he wont be home from school until late this afternoon.

Immediately after justifying my snoopery, I snatch up the Spongebob Squarepants notebook, and bury my nose. And I'm sure glad I did, I just found the most amazing entry of my life.

"My Moues", by Jonas

(Close-up of "moues", Jerry)

Here's how the entry goes, verbatim:

MY MOUES

This is a picture of my moues Jerry and her husband tom they had five kids all of them were witte.
Then tom died.
Then we got a now one and name him tom like the ather one. He was brown and witte. He was killed by his own son. Then we got one more. Then they had kids they witte black spoted and brown.

I win. My family is awesome.

I am good at so many things.

2009-01-16T22:26:00.004-05:00

I'm not really happy with how Tempurpedic makes me feel like a complete asshole for not having one of their mattresses. I say this as I sit in the low-country of my wounded couch, which I managed to patch with an old coffee can and a pillow, and think its quite supportive. (And you cant even see the repairs!)

Don't get me wrong, I'd love to own a Tempurpedic, but a bed which costs $6k (frame not included!) is a bit out of my range.

Every time the commercial comes on, I see the man sitting on a regular bed, whimpering and crouching over in pain. (I feel your pain, half-naked man!) And then I see the pretty girl's face emerging from water and wonder what that has to do with anything? Will Tempurpedic also make me want to skinny dip? If that's the case, sign me up. I'll be right back, I just have to grab my check book...

...

....

Not. Anyway, that was a crude into into a random collection of thoughts.

I haven't really said much to many people, but I had another minor surgery today that was non-foot-related. I haven't said much, for selfish reasons. I didn't want to go into it with everyone and hear unsolicited advice. (Before you say anything... No. I didn't have any socially debatable procedures having to do with unwanted pregnancies.) It's done now, and I feel like there's a barn animal inside my uterus, and he doth protest with his beaks and claws. And daggers.

I'm off work until Thursday due to said procedure, and I'm trying to plan my next trip while I have some downtime. Suggestions? I already filed my taxes. Win!

While I was going under from the sedative on the operating table today, I apparently made it clear to my doctor that she was not to speak to my mother under any circumstance. Ha! I have no recollection of this, nor would I ever say such a thing in my right mind! Especially to someone who was hovering such a burning hot instrument over such a delicate personal belonging. Especially because I was banking on the fact that she'd tell my mom everything, because that's why mom had come, because I never remember anything.

I told my mom exactly what orders I'd given the doctor, after I was told that I said it, while we were waiting for me to build up a full bladder in Recovery. She called me later tonight and said "I know you're worried that I'd think that you're trying to hide things from me. I'd never think that. Really. I was mulling it over, including your reaction, and I know why you said it - you always like to be your own information filter, and you'd rather take any possible bad news and re-package it for your poor old mother. I know exactly how you work."

She's totally right. She knows EXACTLY how I work.

I actually feel a lot closer to both of my parents lately (especially since my good father accompanied me to the lady-doctor last week and graciously sat amoungst preggos and WCU harlots, in his cute Irish hat which I bought him for Christmas, while I had my pre-surgery appointment), and I'm beginning to realize that they both would do absolutely anything for me with no question, and know me better than I'd ever guess. It's frightening as hell, but God... I'm blessed.

I tried for so many years to hide things, or be the good daughter, the reporter of only the correct news in a pretty and non-offensive package. Meanwhile they were observing my behavior and knew most of my juicy news anyway. It's a good thing. I'm feeling much more comfortable in my own skin these days because of discoveries such as this.

Its amazing what happens when your dad takes you to the gyno, and the following week you get to explain your cervix and all of its personality defects, in great detail, to your mother while she looks on in horror.

I need a Valentine.

God Bless Gender Roles

2009-01-10T21:51:00.007-05:00

As I spent a good majority of my first walking-Saturday at home, and was pretty mobile, I started to really appreciate taking care of my nest again. I cleaned, cooked yummy stuff, listened to Bon Iver on loop for about 5 hours, did a ton of laundry and burned a likely 3 pounds of incense.

I also came across a number of the gifts I received during Christmas this year and just had to show a few of them off:

Charity Foundation George has found a home upon my favorite chair.

I've been getting tremendous amounts of use out of m'new camera! Look, I don't even have to use my hands. It's magic.

This? This is a slow-cooker. I've used it 3 times already. By the smell of my house, you'd think I was Polish. NOM NOM pork roasts!
(...Behind it is a Victory growler which is severely underused.)

Malkovich & Divine: No commentary needed.

My newest centerbot.

Kate calls 'em like she sees 'em.

Last but not least, this beaut' was hand-made by my dad. I asked for a necklace holder to organize the massive amounts of jewelery that was mostly unwearable as it was balled up in a box. I honestly envisioned mug hooks in a flat piece of wood. As you can see, Dad does not do the bare minimum.
Look closely, he attached a cameo and a custom beveled mirror. Dang.

There's more, but most of them are practical items, or I took them to work and they're not laying around for me to photograph.

My point is, thank you to everyone. I'm a happy homemaker, when my surroundings make me think of you.

Memories... In the crevice of my boot.

2009-01-09T15:04:00.005-05:00

GOOD NEWS!

I am de-pinned, de-crutch'd, and booted! It all happened yesterday and since then, I've been leaping through the air with joy, and demonstrating my mobility. Derek is mad I cant walk on water with the magic boot, and I've learned that stomping around on empty boxes with my new "iron man leg" is frowned upon in the corporate atmosphere.

I drew some pictures I wanted to share with you, some of my best memories while being crippled:

This is Stef, pushing me uphill at the Exton Mall during Christmas Season, after my arms got too tired to wheel myself.

This is me on Tuesday night, when Kate and I were leaving Kennett Square. Upon arriving on the 4th floor/roof of the parking garage. I determined it was nothing but an ice sheet when my crutches went akimbo, followed by a cartoonish struggle to regain control on one leg.

More cartoons to come, as I think of them. I have to re-ingratiate myself into my social circles now that I'm mobileish again.

Mean Mr. Mustard

2009-01-04T02:30:00.004-05:00

I'm been disgustingly sensitive about my temperment lately. I took an online quiz tonight, What Beatles Character Are You?

I always thought I'd be the chick from Norwegian Wood, or maybe even Jude, since Jude is my favorite name. Alas, after 40+ questions, I was presented with the following:

You are: Mean Mr. Mustard

You scored 32 shyness, 36 bitterness, 40 moral, and 43 eccentric!

You are Mean Mr. Mustard, from Abbey Road! You're perpetually grumpy, and probably don't give a crap about what others think of you. Your friends probably adore your crustiness as mere eccentricity, but you tend to put people off. "Takes him out to look at the queen Only place that he's ever been Always shouts out something obscene Such a dirty old man"

Wow. But yeah, I guess it's true. Especially the Dirty Old Man part.

I had lunch with my Momma and my Broski at Applebees today before they carted me to the grocery, and I abruptly asked my mom: "Hey, do you think I'm negative?"

I had been crafting the question since last night, but it came out with such ferver that it was perfect and I'm glad I placed it candidly.

She replied with the most perfect stream of conciousness ever:

"Negative? Like, how? Like, down in general, or like a realist? No... wait. You're always really upbeat. But you don't take shit from anyone, you call a spade a spade. And that doesn't make you negative. That makes you strong and reliable. Oh, and you don't tolerate people who can't handle the truth. I think that's why people like you."

Mom. Wow. I love you - seriously. You just negated the stupid online Beatles quiz, and got quoted on my blog for making me feel awesome. <3>

t=c(5) =:(

2009-01-02T12:13:00.007-05:00

My Sentiments Exactly

Today marks five full weeks of being a cripple. I know that my friends are tired of giving me special treatment, and I am tired of it too. I'm pretty sure the vein of resentment is beginning to flow rich with frothy spite.

I have no desire to do anything fun. I've grounded myself for the weekend so that I can save money and hopefully clean a bunch. (Note: It takes 10x as long to complete a task, when you have the use of one leg!)

Today also marks a completely worthless day of my life. The office is dead, and I'm again using my lunchbreak to blog-droll all of my drivel because I'm bored with catching up on work that no one appreciates, and I've already eaten my delightful Kashi Coconut Chicken & Lemongrass. (Nom!)

New Years Eve was fun, me and my cronies spent 16 hours in a cabin in the woods, and it was quite nice. I got lots o'pictures and videos - many of which I can not post. You can check out the passable ones a la Facebook. Here's a taste:

I got home around 11a yesterday and promptly fell asleep. I woke up around 7p, and started in on a marathon of Myth Busters, followed by another of The Cosby Show.

The Cosby Show has always helped me by boosting personal positivity, simultaneously making me question my self-worth. For example:

Me: Bill Cosby (nee: William Henry Cosby) dropped out of high school in the 10th grade?

My Brain: At least I graduated high school and went on to college.

Me: Yeah, but now he's a doctor and his wife is a lawyer and they're loaded living in Manhattan in a huge house.

My Brain: Dude, that's the show. Bill had to shine shoes and deliver groceries to make money before he finally got his diploma and then got an athletic scholarship to Temple.

Me: True. Its hard to remember that because the show is called "The Cosby Show", and its actually about the Huxtable family. Separating fact from fiction becomes a challenge when there's such parallels. Its like the DaVinci code, almost. Hillman=Temple? Why is Theo incapable of walking normally? He hops/jumps everywhere, and always has his mouth open. Is that supposed to encourage African Americans with A.D.D. to live normal lives?

My Brain: William Henry Cosby isn't even an American citizen. Did you know that? He lives in England. He's technically not even an African American. So much for being positive and encouraging.

This blog post was supposed to be cathartic, but I feel a bit more gloomy than when I started. And my allotted lunch-blog time is about to be over.

In all seriousness, I have high hopes for 2009. At least I didn't resolve to address more medical issues in this upcoming year. I just have to save money and lose weight. No bigs, right?

Kickapoo

2008-12-22T10:20:00.002-05:00

One of the many blessings of being a female and posessing high levels of estrogen, is also posessing a heightened sense of smell. This comes in quite handy when you attend wine tastings, or when you live alone and need to sniff out dangerous things like midnight fires, gas leaks, or pesky Radon in the basement.

Unfortunately, today, my office smells like a dirty diaper filled with Indian food.

Either someone got their cheap Christmas cologne a few days early and decided to have a jump start on everyone else and musk-up while they'd still get obligatory compliments... Or one of the housekeeping staff barfed on the carpet over the weekend and was too sick to scrub it out.

Have you ever had a sneeze-fest from a putrid, sour, urine-y smell? Neither have I until today.

Regardless, I had to take a Vicodin. All the sneezing and dry-heaving was applying pressure to my foot, which caused throbbing, which became too distracting and I couldn't take it anymore.

And hey, its perfectly legal and prescribed ...so why not ease the Monday Malaise?

Jojo, The Pin Cushion

2008-12-16T11:43:00.005-05:00

In my last blog post, I promised a photo of my post-surgery foot. My last appointment was 5 days ago, I haven't had much time to sit around and write a blog.

(Oh - who am I kidding? All I have is time! I've just been lazy as hell.)

SO, click at your own risk, the photo is slightly gruesome - I don't recommend viewing if you're skeeved by the idea of a 2 inch long pin through my bone, and the head exposed outside my body. (That's what the yellow thing is!) Regarde!

It hurts. Well, not so much today. But it sucks not being normal, which hurts my brain. I am getting really tired of not getting around. I'm ready. I feel like I can walk on it, but I daresent do it. I'm REALLY tired of not driving, and really tired of my pants being tight because I cant exercise. That, and the Vicodin moonlights as G.I. Tract Spackle.

Enough complaining. I'm glad I did it. Living with the "Claw of Death", aka "Thundering Hooves" (my former foot), was no treat. Recent commentary on the Claw Hoof is as follows:

"...That that old foot of yours looked like a alien was trying to poke its way out to earth."

-LWin

She's right. I don't mind talking about it now; it's gone, and will never be seen again.

Can YOU Blow ME Where The Pampers Is?

2008-12-05T11:05:00.004-05:00

Can you show me where the campus is? Does anyone remember that movie? PCU? Right now I feel as mentally astute as one of the characters, Gutter. Thanks to the ice-bath shock of being back in the office, and back to real life.

I've had an insane lack of interest towards any communication to the outside world since before Thanksgiving. I attribute it mostly to my annual wintertime depression, the slump that I fall into when I realize that we have another 6 months until decent amounts of sunshine. Truly, I don't know how many more years I can endure it.

PA: I love you, but damn.

It could also be due to the massive amount of laziness and pain medication that is part of recovery. That's just a maybe, though.

I had surgery on Black Friday.

I had to wait for 2 hours in the surgery holding tank, between when mom had to leave and they were actually ready to butcher me. I made a few new friends there, one of which was Terri, the OR nurse. She kept asking us the same questions over and over - which I hear is fairly common. Like, "are you wearing any jewlery, or appliances such as a hearing aid?" "What did you eat for breakfast?", trying to catch us, as if I'd lie about sneaking my jewlery or refridgerators into the OR. (Get it? Appliances? Hahahahaha.) Another friend I made was Angel, he was in for knee surgery. When Terri asked if he was wearing any jewlery, he said "No, and being that I'm Latino - you should be shocked." I lost it, I laughed so hard, and now I know why they ask.

Anesthesia was fun. It was like the best nap ever. I told myself before I went to the hospital that I didn't want to go under all the way. Turns out, I didnt have a choice. When they finally took me in, some man who wasnt my surgeon grabbed my foot and perched it upon his upper belly and started to do things. I remember how warm and squishy his belly was - and how much I liked it - and then I zonked. I did wake up in the middle of the procedure, but it wasn't as horrific as I thought it would be. I was actually interested to see what was going on. I started moving around and I think they noticed and remedied me.

I was under specific instruction not to eat or drink anything after midnight the night before surgery. No water. If you know me at all, you know I always have a huge bottle of water with me and I am always drinking it. I woke up at 7am, waited around until 1:30 pm in the holding tank to get sliced and diced, woke up in recovery at 4:00 pm... All I wanted the entire time was water. Once I got to the recovery room, I had to pee from the IV but i was begging for water. They told me they couldn't give me water but I could have ice chips. ICE CHIPS! Holy God, yes please! They brought me a little styrofoam (grr...) cup filled with ice chips and a plastic spoon. The nurse sat it on the table next to/behind me. I reached for it in my groggy state, and promptly knocked the cup and its contents to the ground. I was scolded and didn't get a refill. I was a totally sad, totally parched panda.

The rest of the recovery in the hospital is boring, so I wont make you go through that. Home life has been interesting, and getting to know how to use crutches has been frustrating. I hate them. Most things I am terrible at, I hate.

Since I've been home, I've:

Moved two lawn chairs into my bathroom (one to sit on in the shower and one to prop my foot on outside of the shower)
Broken my couch (I invented this new "fly over the coffee table, do a 180-spin and land on my butt" move, to protect my foot. It appears that behavior compromises the integrity of antique furniture.)
Learned new and interesting ways to get a mug of hot tea from the kitchen to the livingroom (move mug and then move self as follows: edge of stove to side of sink, side of sink to end of counter near wall, turn self, pick up mug, trade mug with crutch from left side and bend down with bad leg out to the right, balance as you barely reach the edge of the coffee table with the burning hot mug, release. I haven't failed yet.)
Turned my 2 bedroom apartment into an effieiency (everything I use is within arms reach in my livingroom, I am starting to know how it feels to be a competitive video gamer who stays in one spot for weeks.)
Not eaten any of my own food, besides yogurt (my dear mother has been so overly generous with bringing food, keeping me company or taking me out to dinner. Fred made a ridiculously awesome dinner for Making Christmas night at his place.)
Not been lonely or bored(Mom and Fred, Father and brothers, Stef have all been cripple-advocates, and make sure I want for nothing. I've been really happy being alone, too.)
Spent $15. (In one week, I have only spent $15 of my own money. This is amazing, and hasnt happened since I was about 10 years old.)
Become addicted to Wife Swap (Seriously, it's probably playing on Lifetime right now... you should check it out. I've decided that the worst part about being back in the office is missing Wife Swap.)
Eaten an absurd amount of chocolate. (When you're sick, or otherwise stationary, people like to give you sweets. Being an addict, who am I to object? I think it's particularly cute that my mother bought me Hershey bars to help me "come down from the drugs when its time to detox", and she was serious.)

Lots of other things are going on. Some very happy, some very sad. I'll give more detail when I can, and I'll try to keep it lighter than this post from now on. It's good to be back.

OH, PS: I cant wait to show you the picture of the giant nail sticking out of my big toe. I'm taking a picture of it next Thursday...

Admission Is Theraputic

2008-11-24T16:16:00.002-05:00

We all do things we're not proud of, because it makes us feel good. Typically, these acts are referred to as "guilty pleasures". I happen to have a lot of them.

The worst is when the guilty pleasure is attainable in a public forum, and you forget to be sneaky about it.

My office has packets of hot chocolate mix, available in both regular and sugar-free. Holy crap, sugar-free! Its like a guiltless pleasure that you bet your britches I'll find a way to guilt-ify!

I discovered that if you put a packet of the mix in the bottom of your mug and add the coffee or hot water on top of it, it kinda turns into a sludge when you take care to stir just above it, very gingerly. After the liquid is consumed, you're left with about a teaspoon of what resembles brownie mix at the bottom of your mug. You can then use your tiny plastic straw stirrer thing to nibble at the sludge and my GOD is it yumaroo.

I do the brownie sludge thing every few weeks, its definitely not something I could handle on a daily basis. I realized in secret that Kate does it too.

Its all well and good until you're uber focused on a task, and you take your last swig of hot chocolate, with Derek the unseen ninja standing behind you.

His face is washed over with a look of horror and he loudly exclaims "Oh my God, Jojo! What is that in your cup?"

Me: "What? You startled me, why do you sneak up like that?" (grabs cup and attempts to hide it) "What cup? Its nothing! It's just, I had hot chocolate. And sometimes it gathers at the bottom, that powder stuff, I guess I didnt stir well enough. Don't worry about it!"

Derek: "Wow, you must have forgotten to stir it completely, thats disgusting!"

Me: (Turns red and feels forced to, so she discard her unconsumed sludge, admitting that she agrees its disgusting.)

I wanted so desperately to tell him that Kate does it too, but I thought it wouldnt be fair. I would like to think that other people wouldn't rat me out on my weird.

I was just dumb enough to get caught.

I dont like ninjas.

A Blog Response to Was's Blog

2008-11-18T13:07:00.003-05:00

Recently, my friend Was posted an opinion-poll type blog. The question posed was:

"Yea or neigh?

I've found that lot's of people will get irate if you poop at their house. So what i'm trying to figure out is whether or not i'm being rude if I shit at somone's house, or if these people are rude for being mad.

I can see both sides of the story."

My response below is something that I decided to post here as well, because I think it'll be useful to those of you who are fellow 'Foriegn Toilet Phobia' (FTP) sufferers. I used to be one myself, and still practice the exercises which allows me to be "Free to Flush", as we say.

"The trick to pooping at someones house, pooping at work, or pooping anywhere besides your own domicile, is: Wait until you have to go so bad that its knocking at the door. Dogs are barking, and there's a turtle coming out of it's shell. Drink coffee if available to enhance effect.

Next, announce that you have to pee. Go, sit, you do your thing, and you do it quick. As soon as it kisses the water, you flush. This minimizes the smell and the chance that you will get caught. The flush will last long enough for you to finish evacuating your bowels - and maybe get in one good wipe, and the water take the evidence with it. If more than one wipe is required, do it. And then make a spectacle about "blowing your nose" and flush the remainder of your "used nose tissues".

If you're worried about "signing the bowl", or "skid marks", I find that applying a layer of TP to the top of the water before you begin will act as a barrier betwixt your poo and the porcelain - thus, eliminating worry. "

I suggest you practice at home to get this down to a science before debuting at work, friends houses, or movie theatres. Good luck.

Hypothesis? Fail.

2008-11-13T15:28:00.004-05:00

Let's say that I used to see someone who might be a quasi-famous-person now.

Let's say he got married a few years ago, and I attempted to congratulate him through email but received no response. Twice.

Let's say that I had some free time during lunch today and was shopping for books and DVDs to keep me entertained during surgery recovery.

Let's say that I stumbled across one of the things this guy is famous for is available for inexpensive purchase on the internet.

Let's say that I was intrigued enough by the actual product to order it. No really, it looks good.

Let's say that I didn't do my research, and now realize that the site I ordered it from is a 3rd party broker, and the actual product is shipped from the product owner.

Let's say that I am terrified because aforementened quasi-famous-person is quite likely that lattermentioned private seller, who will recognize me when he receives my name and shipping address and will likely think I am obsessive and stalking him because I've emailed him twice and am apparently "searching for him on the internet".

I'm an idiot. All I wanted were some Roald Dahl books.

Out - Of - My - Mind

2008-11-10T14:36:00.003-05:00

Its absolutely IMPOSSIBLE to do any work when there has been God Forsaken JACKHAMMERING going on for 6 hours (and counting...) about 10 yards from my desk:

Jackhammering

Dear Kennett Square,

SERIOUSLY?!

Love,

-Joj

Sausage Casing, $9.08

2008-11-07T14:50:00.002-05:00

I bought a new skirt yesterday at Target, upon returning a blazer I bought last weekend. The skirt is super cute, there's a sexytime zipper in the back that goes all the way from the bottom to the top. It was 75% off, I got it for $9.08! I was proud of myself when I bought it because Target sizes are usually small, and I was able to buy the sexy zipper skirt in my regular size. I even tried it on, just to be sure. I should mention that I hadn't eaten all day yesterday at the point when I did the on-trying, and still thought buying a snug, tailored skirt was a good idea.

Developments of the day today show that I should never purchase my true size at Target.

I should have recognized the omen this morning, of how when I went to get in the Beastie, my range of motion was severely impaired by the snug-to-my-knees hem of my sexy zipper skirt. My 4-inch heel did not clear the Beastie's running board, I then fell face first into my center console.

You should never buy your ideal size at Target, especially when you debut your sexy sexy skirt on a coworker/friends birthday. Especially when that coworker/friend is the Cupcake Queen, and brought in Banana Chocolate cupcakes to celebrate said birthday. Especially when you go out for lunch (for said coworkers said birthday, prior to said supcakes) and get an incredibly rich grilled veggie wrap and eat the whole thing, and the fries that came with it. Especially when you go to Starbucks after lunch and get a venti iced tea. Especially when you went to Starbucks on the way to work and got a venti iced coffee.

Death bloat. Even undoing the zipper a little doesnt help. I cant wait to go home and change.

Bloody Pity Party

2008-10-31T14:12:00.002-04:00

I like to write about about my meaningless everyday experiences. Like, how I got my blood drawn during my lunch break today:

I get there at 11:45, I had an appointment at 12:00 noon. They didnt take me until 12:15, so I'm annoyed. My Phlebotomist, Allison, was the only staff member over the lunch hour which meant she single-handedly had to do the sticking, checking-in, and the phone answering.

Fortunately, her husband called her and the volume was all the way up so I got to hear him giving her the sexy sexy talk while she prepared my paperwork. She kept giggling and looking at me, and finally says "Baby, I hate to say it like this but I'm about to stick a needle into some lady's arm so can I call you back in a little bit? Yeah, I know - its gross. I'll talk to you soon, I love youuuu... k, bye."

I wanted to punch her, but she had already tied off my punchin' arm and it was rendered Limp Noodle.

She hung up the phone and said "that was mah hunny, sorry bout that. He doesnt understand why I dont call him, but I keep tellin' him I have a job and even though its pretty mindless work, I cant talk all the time."

It was at this point that I started paying attention to make sure she was matching up the right bar codes with the right tubes.

She then comes over with 6 tubes and says that she usually gives people the option of which arm they want to use, but since I needed to have so much drawn, she'd need to draw from my "writin' arm", as the veins were stronger and less likely to collapse. I reminded her that it was already tied off, and getting blue, so she should get to it. She gets started and about 3 tubes into it she said "you're my #2 record for number of tubes". My all time high was 20. TWENTY tubes!" I just looked at her and made a fist. She told me to stay still.

Allison's next statement of brilliance was "Oh God, look at your hand! Haha! Your fingertips are black!" I looked at them (I hadn't looked to my right the whole time) and caught a glimpse of the blood flowing out of my arm and into the 5th tube. I felt my neck catching up to my arm, in terms of Limp Noodle.

As Allison finished up the 6th and removed the "stick", it happened. I started to get really hot. Then I started to sweat and I couldnt hear anything. I slouched forward into the padding, and told her "I... feeling a little... uhhh. Allison, I d'feel good." She froze and was asked "would you like a moist towel for your neck?" A. I wanted to hit her (for the third time) for choosing the word "moist" during my crucial moment. B. What is this, AirTran? I said uh-huh. But by the time she got back I guess I had already passed out. I woke up with my teeth gnawling into my left hand and Allison moist-towelling my neck. I was sweating like some sort of farm animal, so I took the towel from her and mopped up my mess.

Then she waited for me to come around, and led me to the "lay down room" to recover. The Lay Down Room was in full view of the waiting area, so I got to feel like a total ass while all 20 senior citizens who were waiting to be led to slaughter craned their wrinkley selves to watch me stumble down the hall and flop onto the brown vinyl slab with a dingey-ass pillow. (Maybe this really was AirTran?) She said "this is a daily occurence for us so dont you worry!"

So reassuring!

This is a great kickoff to the beginnings of my medical proactivity!

Oh, Allison. Thank you for being my own personal Vampire on Halloween.

stream of consciousness(2)

2008-10-30T10:27:00.007-04:00

Today at work is so deathly quiet, I am taking my 15 minute break (which I rarely do) to jot down a few thoughts running through my brain. SO prepare for lack of theme, organization or creativity in what you're about to read...

There's so much going on and everything seems medical or financial - the two categories I despise most wholeheartedly. I've been catching up on some much needed and ignored doctors visits, getting the dreaded ones out of the way. Now there are a zillion follow-ups I have to do. Blood work for normal crap, blood work for my surgery, physicals, ultrasounds, prescriptions, choosing what antibiotic and pain pills I need (isn't that the doctor's job?!)...

The list goes on and becomes more awkard, so I'll stop there. I'm starting to think that my boss may suspect I'm lying about 'doctors appointments', because I've had so many. Eep. I'm not, I swear it.

My car inspection is coming up and a rough estimate of "probably wont pass" items comes to about $2,0o0. Supah. I have about $250 saved. I'm about 10% of the way there, and have 30 days left.

Good news! My new neighbor, Sean, allowed one of his friends to borrow his truck on Tuesday night. That friend apparently got drunk, and came home wasted; slamming through my front porch and into the back of my Beastie trying to get into his parking spot. Observe:

The damage doesn't look all that terrible, but the total estimate I got yesterday is $998. Yowch. I do feel a little bad, especially since Sean is being cool about it all, and not leaving his insurance information in my mailbox this morning like he said he would. I even made him a folder with the estimates, all clearly divided and labeled with post-it's. I put it in a red folder, because red usually means power, and I want him to know I mean business. Red also makes you hungry, so maybe he'll eat the estimate instead of reading it.

Digging back a little further, I had a great birthday. I didn't get to go to Frightened Rabbit, but its cool. Everything else made up for it. I got all my hair cut off (it took 4 hours and a $26 parking ticket - poop - which i still need to pay...) but you probably already saw or know. I LOVE it. I don't know if everyone is lying, but 95% of the feedback I've gotten on it is positive. Observe:

Being 27 isn't all it's cracked up to be, though. I realized this morning that I have Tennis Elbow/Shoulder from how I steer my car with my left arm, and hold my coffee with my right while I navigate the twists and turns of the Kennett Square Parking Garage. Super pathetic.

Speaking of the Kennett Square Parking Garage, you know how birds fly into glass because they either dont see it, or they're attacking their own likeness because they see it as a threat? Yeah, there was a squashed pigeon on the sidewalk a few weeks ago as I was heading home, a casualty of transparency I'll assume. After I got to the 4th floor, I about peed myself when I discovered the scene of the incident:

Eat that, National Geographic

I guess it's sad, but I ain't no hippie, and I laughed really hard at this, by myself, for about 10 solid minutes. I hope KSqPD picked that up on their video cameras.

I've been going to Philly way too much lately

2008-10-10T11:38:00.003-04:00

Can I tell you HOW excited I am? I finally get to see Dan Deacon, live.

Check him out, if you're not familliar: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5oGMR9irekY

I found the show yesterday and got tickets today. Check out what the website says about this neato-night:

Dan Deacon's Round Robin Tour :

THURSDAY OCTOBER 16TH 7:30PM - FEET NIGHT

Dan Deacon
The Deathset
AdventureVideo
Hippos
Future Island
Nuclean Power
Pants
DJ Dog Dick
Blood Baby
Height
Cex
Smartgrowth
Double Dagger

Okay this is going to be CRAZY. At each show, all of the night's bands will set up their gear simultaneously "along the perimeter of the room, with the audience in the center." Then the round robin part begins, as each band rolls through one song, then passes the spotlight to the next band with nary a moment's break in between. By the end of it, in exchange for a sore neck, you'll be intimately familiar with the musical goods Baltimore has to offer. There will be two full rounds per night, each band will play a few songs in each round. There will be a brief 'intermission' between rounds during which various performance/comedy episodes will take place. This will happen on both nights.

You should try to make it too, if you can. Its gonna be wild. Work-night-wild. :)

Help!

2008-10-08T09:53:00.001-04:00

I normally wouldn't be taking a poll in order to change my personal appearance. You know how I am, I am good with anything... I'm not worried about looking stupid, but I DO want to feel attractive apres la coupe.

The general feedback I've received upon telling people I plan to cut my hair super short again has been less than favorable. And that kind of makes me sad.

I was going to do something similar to this, longer in front of my ears, and a cute little tail (for lack of a better descriptor) in the back:

I would like to hear your thoughts. Yay or Nay? I'm making an appointment at a place in the city on my birfday, so help me out and let me know soon.

Love,

Jojus Christ

Hot Chip Makes My Heart Flip

2008-10-06T14:07:00.005-04:00

Was hands-down, the best show I've ever been to.

(Sorry, my audio quality is rubbish, but you get the idea.)

It was great, Teets drove us into the city. My BA (Bridge Anxiety) is much more manageable when I'm not at the helm. We got upstairs to the adult area @ the Troc, parked our sweet tushes in a primo front balcony spot. Every time I blinked a new drink appeared. It was like the city turned me into some sort of magical genie, unaware of her own powers. (Or those of her loving & doting best friend.)

Before I knew it, the opening "band" (I never know what to call them when they're non-traditional/electronic musicians. Act? Group? Troop? I sound like I'm 80 when I use any of those words. Suggestions are welcome.) finished and I was chair dancing like a maniac and drooling for Alexis Taylor. Wrestlers came on near the end of the night, and I simultaneously shot my feet out, squeeled and urinated a tiny bit. I've never been so excited to hear one song.

Magical Genie Powers led to this

By the encore, I drug Teets downstairs so he could get the "crowd experience". Surrounding ourselves by sweaty, likely-drug-induced wonderfulness and feeling the power of 5 men and their magical mixings. Ah man. So good.

The Hot Chip show also marked the kick-off to Phase One of Celebration du Joj'. The 2 and a half week long celebration of my life. I'm starting to accept October and the colder weather, partially because I am so distracted by the awesomeness of the people around me.

__

In strange and unsettling news, my grandmother had a heart attack on Friday. She's doing ok, I went to visit her in the hospital yesterday and had hand sanitizer all over my face by the time I left.

Yesterday my mom told me that Mommom (my grandmother) was prepping for a cardio catheterization procedure (which is where they put a tube inside the large artery in your leg, it travels up into your heart and they're able to scrape out the plaque. Gag!) requested that I be the person who makes the decision to "pull the plug" when the time comes, if she should ever be on life support. I guess she was nervous, thinking something may go wrong. She made the comment that her son, my uncle, would never pull the plug. And also said that my mother, her daughter, would only give her a day or two before turning off the lights. B-r-utal!

Everyone I've told about this is like "Oh God! That's awful.". You know what though? I am kind of touched she'd pick me. Put everything aside you know about me having a fascination with disturbia, this is completely different. And serious. There's a woman who is choosing me, her grand daughter with black hair and a tattoo, over her own son and daughter, brothers and sisters, to make a decision so monumental. Someone thinks I'm that wise, and that much of a good decision maker? Wow. Of course I hope it never ever comes to that, and I dont like thinking about it - still, I'm really... honred.

Point-being: I now have a power complex, and am taking applications to be your life-keeper. I mean, if you want. I've got experience :)

Rain, Sleet or Snow

2008-10-02T14:37:00.003-04:00

This is how dedicated I am to my job, even when a fire alarm has been going off for 15 minutes:

Ladies and Gents, EarNaps.

I ignore possible death, and continue to work. I think I deserve a raise.

Double-O-Braindead

2008-09-28T18:18:00.003-04:00

I've been lazing about all day, mostly because I have nothing else to do. Partially because I can, and partially because I have to go back to the office tomorrow and I'm in mental protest. The biggest thing I had done before 4pm was going to see Burn After Reading (Fantastic, by the way. Highly recommended if you like profanity as much as I do.)

So about an hour ago, No Country For Old Men was over (I'm on a Coen Bro's mission, it seems. And yes, I paid attention the whole way through this time!) and I thought maybe I should put in at least 15 minutes of work so my day didnt feel like a complete waste. Trash goes out on Sunday nights, and my neighbors upstairs only drug their dumpster thing to the roadside. (Even though I always take theirs out for them. I'm so glad they're leaving.)

I must have left my brain on the couch. On my way out to the trash cans, I did the ol' flick of the wrist which leads to my door handle being locked. Its habit. Not a bad habit, but an annoying one when you don't plan on getting in the car and driving away. I trotted my happy self over to the garbage area, and plopped my kitchen trash inside, and proceeded to drag my can, and the two remaining cans for apartments 3 & 4 to the roadside. Then the recycling buckets. Someone put loose paper in the recycling buckets. The recycling instructions clearly state that paper has to be bundled. AND its raining, so after the truck comes tomorrow and does not take the paper, it'll be left in there, soggy and stuck to the bottom of the bucket like some sort of hobo paper-mache art project... It's probably apartment 2. I'll assume they never learned to read. Neither one of them.

At this point, I'm slightly annoyed and have trashy wet hands, and the bleak remaining daylight is starting to cause a headache. I scuttled like a cockroach across the gravel, ready to retire to my dimly-lit and neutral smelling home, wash my hands and plop back on the couch.

Click. ...Click click click click! The sound of me turning my door handle and me realizing its locked, and that I am keyless, but thinking that added attempts will alter reality. Clearly, I'm no clairvoyant or magician, and the door was definitely locked.

Years of watching MacGyver and playing "The Worst Case Scenario Survival Game" flashed before my eyes. Unfortunately, I didnt have any duct tape, or a potato, or a bright yellow cue card with multiple choice answers. What I did have was two rained-upon flimsy plastic cafe' chairs I got for like $5 each, and a new pair of Sauconys on my feets. Bad news: I'm wearing a skirt. More bad news? In addition to that skirt, I'm wearing a hoodie. And of course, my brand new Sauconys. Thats it. Thats it. Ahem.

I wondered if the people driving by would think I was trying to break into my own apartment and call the policia on me? I'm praying for Bystander Syndrome and an unlocked window as I walk to check the lowest frame on my house. SWEET merciful Baby Jesus, the window behind my TV was unlocked. I hoisted the screen, the sill, and fumbled for the cord for the blinds to open them. God forbit I muss the blinds. OK, so the scene is set, now I just have to get in. Chair in place, I gingerly mount it. It wobbles. I regret having eaten the whole thing of Tabouleh last night, but damn was it good. Left leg up-and-in, I nearly take out my sophisticated audio system that consists of a powerstrip and two hand-me-down speakers, but I make it! Some man in an Astro Van probably got to see some things he normally has to pay for, but whatever. I am maverick and accomplished!

I guess I felt so good about what I had just done, and was on an adrenaline high, that I exited through my front door and went outside, back to the window to close it and close the screen. I didnt realize how idiotic that was until I had finished doing it, and then I felt extremely sorry for my own mental state.

I couldn't help but laugh. I am really ready to hit the couch at this point, so I chuckle and go in, I FINALLY get to wash my hands. I turn and see that my air conditioning units need to come out. It is late September, afterall. I figure I'm already up, and already messy from hoisting myself through the window, I might as well get it over with. First comes removing the 2x4's supporting the units, from the outside... Three windows away from the one where I just put on that fantastic act of independent woman.

Out I go. Locking the door behind me. Again.

Thank heavens I was so much of an idiot and went outside to close my window after the first episode, otherwise I would have locked it.

My stars! The AC units are taken care of, and the trash is all set for pickup in the morning. I am FINALLY back on the couch, and couldn't wait to tell you all about my absent-mindedness. As if you needed more ammo.

So, the moral of the story is: Think twice about necessary cast members of your wardrobe when you get dressed in the morning. Even if it is the weekend.

I like my men how I like my coffee...

2008-09-23T09:44:00.003-04:00

...Ground up and in the freezer.

That's not true, but the expression cracks me up. And I thought of it when I was walking back in from the parking garage after lunch, with a "Iced Venti Unsweetened Black Coffee" from Starbucks in my hand. Some guy asked why I don't use cream or sugar and I told him it's because I like my coffee to be as black and bitter as my soul. I laughed, but he didn't find it funny. I love Kennett Square people and their (non)senses of humor.

I'm feeling EXCESSIVELY needy lately. To the point where its annoying me, so I must be driving everyone else completely batty. Sorry about that.

Maybe its a product of yesterday being the Autumnal Equinox? I am sad to see summer go, and I don't really look forward to getting colds/the flu this winter, being stuck inside because of stupid snow, dark time coming at 4:30 p.m., layering my clothing, or paying higher car insurance rates just in case Beastie and I go flying off a cliff during an ice storm. My birthday* is in less than a month and I'm thismuchcloser to 30. Not that I care, but everyone else keeps bringing it up and its making the last few years of my 20's feel terminal.

I am compulsively hanging out with my people, and frantically trying to meet new people, which makes me appear like I have a hard time being alone. That's not to say my hanging out with you, if you've been one of my victims of the last week or so, isn't a sincere and genuine act; just that I look forward to being not alone more so than usual. The usual is: I adore and look forward to my Jojo time.

Its probably because last week, and this past weekend have been a whirlwind of activity, big work events, visitation from several dear friends, and general good-busy times. This, following of course, my week of solitude with the infection scare. (Ugh. It's still not all gone, but I'm getting there.)

Cool, so by writing this, I've effectively done a self-analysis and realized I'm not nuts, I'm just coming off a packed-schedule-high, and am having trouble re-adjusting. Buck up, Joj', you'll be fine in no time.

*I have a premonition that my birthday this year (as always) is going to be spectacular. My dearest friends take excellent care of me, and make me feel loved. They do their best to hide their plans, and make the events a surprise. With that said, they all suck at keeping secrets and I usually find out what’s going on.

Here’s what I know so far:

- Hot Chip on 10/5

- Frightened Rabbit on 10/17

- Fondue

- A “night club” (The last time I went dancing on my birthday, I broke bones.)

- Victory/Chelsy’s/Four Dogs

All this in just 3.5 short weeks!

Kate is Great

2008-09-12T12:09:00.005-04:00

She does the best stuff to cheer me up when I'm all gloom and doom, observe:

The Soothing Sounds of Bonesaws

2008-09-10T09:29:00.003-04:00

As you may or may not know/care, I am getting surgery on muh feets (reference, HERE).

I scheduled it for November 14th. The only other available dates were October 17th, or October 31st. One of those days is my birthday, the other is my brothers birthday, AND my favorite holiday. No way I'm missing that.

The guy who is doing the procedure is completely freaking awesome, nice, easy to talk to, and everyone says hes the BEST. He's the best in my mind because he's going to give me pretty feets, one toe at a time. I present to you, Dr. Kevin DiAngeles:

When I was in for my last consult, I asked Dr. D what I should expect for the actual procedure? Would they put me out completely? Would they just numb my foot? Here's how the conversation went:

Dr. D: "We'll heavily sedate you, and give you a local in your foot. We'll also fit you with an ankle tourniquet so you wont bleed heavily when we use the bone saw."

The Joj: "Huhscuse me?"

Dr. D: "...Yeah, you'll practically be asleep, but this kind of surgery doesn't require full anesthesia."

The Joj: "BONE SAW?"

Dr. D: "Thats how we cut bones. The whole procedure shouldnt take more than 90 minutes. Two hours, tops."

The Joj: "Will I be able to hear it? I have some anxiety issues, I think this might really push me over the edge if I can hear you sawing through my bones."

Dr. D: "Probably. But you'll be so sedated you wont really mind, I think. Anxiety usually isnt an issue."

The Joj: "Oh."

So, yeah. The deal is, Ima charge the heck out of my ipod and build a killer surgery-masking playlist. No Bonecutter Records jokes, please. I'm being totally serious. I don't necessarily need help or need new music, I just wanted to tell you because its absolutely f$#ing disgusting that I will get to hear my own bones being cut. I wonder if it sounds like a dentist's drill, or maybe more like a chainsaw. I wonder if I'll be able to smell the bone smoke.

:-\

I long for this kind of adoration

2008-09-03T22:54:00.002-04:00

Necrophilia and psychosis, be damned. This man truly loved his lady and I think its totally romantic:

When a beautiful young woman named Elena Hoyos died from tuberculosis in Florida in 1931, her life as a misused object of desire began. Her admirer, a local X-ray technician who called himself Count Carl von Cosel, paid for Hoyos to be embalmed and buried in a mausoleum above ground. Then, in 1933, the crafty Count stole Elena’s body and hid it in his home. During the next seven years, he worked to preserve her corpse, replacing her flesh as it decayed with hanger wires, molded wax, and plaster of Paris. He even slept beside Elena’s body in bed—that is, until her family discovered her there. In the ensuing media circus, more than 6,000 people filed through the funeral home to view Elena before she was put to rest. Her family buried her in an unmarked grave so that von Cosel couldn’t find her, but that didn’t stop his obsession. Von Cosel wrote about Elena for pulp fiction magazines and sold postcards of her likeness until he was found dead in his home in 1952. Near his body was a life-size wax dummy made to look just like Elena.

Read the full story on Count Carl Von Cosel, here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carl_Tanzler

I was seriously empathetic. Not that I'd sleep next to a corpse or want someone sleeping next to mine. Right?

PS - I think its insanely amusing that someone who referred to himself as "Count" lived in Zephyrhills.

Because She Asked Me To

2008-08-27T16:27:00.002-04:00

Kate: I gotta piddle
burb

[Kate returns, dry heaving and holding up a sideways gang sign that resembles a the peace sign, or a number two, or a vagina.]

Me: I'm so confused. J#2?

Kate: stall #2

Me: HHAHAHA
bad?

Kate: almost just barfed
literally
i went in
and the culprit was still in the b-room
and so i couldnt just walk out of the stall
but she signed the bowl

Me: [Laughing hysterically] it was a piece of art

Kate: and i started gagging
and had to close my nose
and then the thought of breathing in poop air from my mouth
made me gag more
and then i cupped my hands over my nose and mouth
and tried to blow minty air up my nostrils
i probably peed all over myself
but i just needed to get out
can you blog about this later?

Me: I'm shaking [still laughing hysterically]
yes.

Amish Cousins Are The Best

2008-08-26T15:27:00.003-04:00

A few years after I started working where I work, I found out that one of my best friends in the office is related to me, a distant cousin. We'll call her "A".

A, standing for Awesome, of course. Or Amy.

A happens to have Amish heritage and knows how to make some BANGIN' red eggs. She just brought one over for me and made my day. Thats right, eggs soaked in beets and vinegar. Behold, the power:

God bless you, angel.

You too can be a rental property owner

2008-08-21T13:33:00.005-04:00

I hope my landlord doesn't find my blog, but judging by his skill in crafting correspondence, I dont think I have anything to worry about.

Also, I know by posting this, I'm begging for you all to start harshly critiquing my spelling and grammatic errors.

I got this letter in my mailbox a few days ago, I'm not too upset that the building is getting sold. Maybe the next guy will let me get a pup.... Anyway, enjoy. I did you the favor of grading the piece:

I fall to pieces, which then turn to mush

2008-08-20T13:03:00.004-04:00

Did you ever feel like you were just watching your body perform, with little or no control over what it does? Thats me today. Its like the scene from Fear & Loathing, where HST is walking through the swamp that is his hotel room, like some sort of space alien. I felt like my legs weighed nothing earlier, therefore I was over compensating for their actual weight, and ended up practically goosestepping my way to the water fountain.

Yesterday I took a personal day and got a lot done. Define "a lot" however you must, but I did get an oil change and some much needed recreation. Nothing illegal. Certainly nothing that would warrant this kind of physical torture.

I broke the diet bad, over imbibed, and feel like these things are responsible for my slow-headedness. That, and being back in the office doesn't help.

I fell asleep by 730 yesterday. PM. Little did I know my windows were open, and front door unlocked. I had bad dreams about people sneaking in while I slept (My body knew I should get up and secure my surroundings!), these people happened to be of latino heritage, and were building a garage for my grandmother. In my dream I kept referring to them as Amish, and they disassembled my air conditioner more than once, trying to sneak into my bedroom. Weird. Then I had a dream that I was in my friend Amy's wedding (which was being held at the Christian winter camp I went to when I was 14 - in the Adirondack Mountains), and the dress I had to wear was too big, and she wanted to postpone the wedding until the next day so I could have it altered. And then someone peed on my dress and I decided to make the alterations myself since it was already covered in pee. Hmph.

Switching gears: I feel extremely taken advantage of, lately. Some people (no one reading this, or I wouldn't be writing it) just leech everything I have to offer, and give nothing in return. We're talking emotional support, advice, help in general. I really hate it when I listen, analyze and put true effort into the betterment of someone else's life, and when I need something? They're like dust in the wind. Karma will get 'em, right? :( Specifically, someone I work with. This isn't the first time she's done it to me. I never learn my lesson, I'm too much of a giver, and I need to learn to say no.

Jojo needs some love.

Notorious P.I.P.

2008-08-14T16:36:00.003-04:00

Pretty In Pink: NOT.

I made the huge mistake of wearing a pink shirt for the first time to the office today. It's a cute shirt, its stretchy with 70's-tux-esque ruffles across my breasty region. If I had my camera cable here, I'd take a picture and post for you, but you'll have to use your imagination for now.

So anyway, seriously everyone who sees me/walks by my desk is "AWWWWWWWWW, Jojo, pink is definitely your color! Why don't you ever wear pink? You should buy more pink stuff!".

That kind of fawning makes me uncomfortable, as though I did this just to garner attention and begin my conversion from the dark-side to the pink-side. Seriously. I thought I was the Anti-Pink. Just because I have a lot of black clothes and black hair does not make me depressed. Seriously, unless I'm mocking something or wearing it out of spite, or something cooky like an entirely pink suit with matching pink shoes - its just not my color of choice.

I think what scares me the most is when someone sees a girl wearing pink, they expect her personality to have the same high-fructose corn syrup qualities as their hue. Not the case with me. For those of you who are lucky enough to know me-know me (gnomey, hahha), you're aware that I'm probably one of the most cynical and sarcastic bastards ever.

Maybe in my old age, I should start going for shock and awe. Maybe I'll start adding more pastels to my wardrobe and see what happens? Maybe it'll get me more friends and a boyfriend and maybe I'll even get matching lipgloss and a tiny, fluffy white dog. Maybe, maybe I'll start shopping at Express. Oh, the horror.

this is so totally f'd

2008-08-13T20:15:00.001-04:00

I didn't think it was a big deal until I payed attention to the ages of the people listed:

http://www.marryourdaughter.com/

Seriously? Are we bedouins?

Your thoughts?

Unhappy Feets

2008-08-08T12:17:00.005-04:00

On Wednesday I go to the podiatric surgeon to schedule my surgery for my gnarley feet.

My feet have been gnarley as long as I can remember. I've always had poor balance and have never been able to wear flip flops without massive amounts of toe-shyness.

I'm far too embarrassed to post a picture of my actual feet, but have made a sketch to show you the general shape, as well as purple lines to show you where i'll be getting butchered:

Thats right, they're going to be cutting two of my toes completely off, and re-attaching them in proper form. I'm really nervous.

Here's what a real foot should look like:In addition to the toe dealio, they have to cut the metatarsocunieform and re-align, and then fuse it to my ankle bones.

See the part that is the "First MP joint"? That has to be filed down with something that looks like an industrial metal file.

Sad panda.

Recovery is like 6-8 weeks for each foot - and the surgeries have to be done one at a time. I guess I wont be walking right for 3 months.

The good part about it all is that I'll be getting a wheel chair at the mall for Black Friday again. The product is: No one eye contact from anyone, and hurried shoppers will scamper like roaches under florescent light to get out of my way. Children will cry and old people will stare. You know me, Miss Positivity!

I don't expect you to understand

2008-08-07T15:08:00.004-04:00

...but I crack myself up:

(I'm still vain, and a lot of you have never actually seen me in action)

Also, I didn't want to break my streak of blogs that include Kate. She is making a video for work. (Technically I shouldn't be sharing the test footage with anyone... but you're special, Reader)

I went on an accidental bender last night and I'm paying today. One of these days I'll grow up.

One of these days.

Just a dream and the wind to carry me

2008-08-04T09:55:00.003-04:00

For the past few weeks, I have made a Monday morning ritual of starting my day with the smooth sounds of Christopher Cross.

It all began when I had to buy a song via iTunes to help a co-worker experience all that IS Christopher Cross. I listen at least weekly as to get my $0.99-worth.

I hope you know of him, but if you don't, now you do:

Because It's Friday.

2008-08-01T15:29:00.006-04:00

Kate and I played sneak-attack camera-stealing picture funtime today:

Which turned into self portrait picture funtime:

Which turned into not giving Joj' her camera back funtime:

I know, I'm vain.

It's a Slovak Thing

2008-08-01T14:32:00.005-04:00

South Beach Diet, Rule #8: No matter how hungry you are, do not buy a jar of cold pickles and attempt to eat them in the car on the way home from the gym.

You'll end up with a snootch full of brine, and the garlic dill? It tingles:

She Bites, Yes.

Hi, My Name is Joj. And I Suffer From Insomnia At The Worst Possible Times Ever.

Short Story

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 5

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 4

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 3

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 2

Isagenix 9-Day Cleanse; Day 1

I almost urinated the couch

We Totally Found A Dead Person

What's the most perverted thing you've ever done?

formspring.me

formspring.me

formspring.me

formspring.me

Your Turn, Mate

*looks down* and...

Action Plan, Day One. Too busy for a clear shot.

Very High Colonic?

"No Offense" is offensive enough

I forgot how much I missed being needed

It Came!

introspective city!

Not The Energy Drink

I do love it, sometimes.

Blood Gone Dry

Catholic Guilt

WarFace: Game On

Magnum Does Not Take Kindly To Secret Twin

It Breeds

The Eagle Has Landed

Noxious, P.I.

It's that kind of Monday.

Thanks, Frank.

I'll buy that for $2.99/(aka: itemized list of trip details )

Water?

Chances are, you've already read this.

I Respect Your Privacy

I am good at so many things.

God Bless Gender Roles

Memories... In the crevice of my boot.

Mean Mr. Mustard

You are: Mean Mr. Mustard

t=c(5) =:(

Kickapoo

Jojo, The Pin Cushion

Can YOU Blow ME Where The Pampers Is?

Admission Is Theraputic

A Blog Response to Was's Blog

Hypothesis? Fail.

Out - Of - My - Mind

Sausage Casing, $9.08

Bloody Pity Party

stream of consciousness(2)

I've been going to Philly way too much lately

Help!

Hot Chip Makes My Heart Flip

Rain, Sleet or Snow

Double-O-Braindead

I like my men how I like my coffee...

Kate is Great

The Soothing Sounds of Bonesaws

I long for this kind of adoration

Because She Asked Me To

Amish Cousins Are The Best

You too can be a rental property owner

I fall to pieces, which then turn to mush

Notorious P.I.P.

this is so totally f'd

Unhappy Feets

I don't expect you to understand

Just a dream and the wind to carry me

Because It's Friday.

It's a Slovak Thing

looks down and...