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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We Totally Found A Dead Person

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?

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

Ask me anything

formspring.me

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

formspring.me

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

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

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

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:

Nor should you be modest.

Allons-Y!

*looks down* and...

...*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.

Very High Colonic?

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

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

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: