Well behaved women rarely make history . . .

The past few months have been, how shall I put this, tumultuous. And a lot has been going on. A lot that I can't actually write about here yet. But Internet, trust me, I needed a drink. And a nap.

Today, however, is my dad's surgery. And I am going to be positive if it kills me. Actually, though, being positive has come more easily lately. And I've found that while my life is in total flux, I'm starting to get excited about the possibilities again. And that's good, right?

Anyhow, enough with the cryptic Jeni's Life Blows talk. Let's talk about my dad. He's having his prostate removed today and Internet, I'm counting on you. So please pray, send good thoughts, well wishes, bootie dances, or magic spells to my dad to ensure that his cancer has not spread and that they get it all out today. Then also, please add a second prayer, wish, dance, spell that makes sure he can still get it up and/or doesn't pee his pants. You see, you see how my life has been odd lately, I'VE HAD TO WISH FOR MY DAD TO GET A BONER!

Internet, that's freaking weird.

And while I don't know exactly what the future holds for me, I do know this. The future includes a tutu. And god freaking bless you Internet for helping me find a tutu dress. Soon I shall be sporting my very own tutu dress at a wedding near you.

 

I am not the type of girl who has planned out her wedding since she was 5-years-old. In fact, weddings make me nervous. Especially the thought of mine. All the planning, all the details, all the inevitable fights with my mother. All for one day. Just one big party. That's a lot of work.

But then I saw this. My friend and I had joked awhile back that I should get married in the English country-side that way my guests would wear awesome hats. That might be a touch too expensive, but I damn well might get married in the Missouri country-side and force everyone to wear purple hats and sing Queen at my reception. Because you know, THE BRIDE SAID SO.

Brian & Eileen's Wedding Music Video. from LOCKDOWN projects on Vimeo.

Oh as a side note, I plan to have the bridesmaids wear bad 80's bridesmaid/prom dresses to the rehearsal. And the groomsmen? Oh they'll be wearing bad 70's tuxes to the rehearsal.

You're welcome to steal my ideas, Internet, for the MOST. AWESOME. WEDDING. EVER. Odds are you'll be getting hitched sooner than I will. But c'mon, tell me these aren't the best wedding plans you've ever heard!?!

My colors? No idea.

My flowers? No idea.

Actual serious plans for the ceremony? NO CLUE!

But you know what I'll be wearing to the rehearsal??? This.

Hell yes.

Conversation that happened this morning via Facebook Chat and Facebook Wall posts with my best friend since 7th grade, entitled:

May 14th, 2009 AKA Poop ’09, Stars, and Other Revelations on Life


7:33am Jeni
what happened with penny?
shit splatter? not cool

7:34am Kate
She has diarrhea and I came home to a stinky, shitty, door and wall splattered hallway yesterday. Then at 3:30 this morning the smell of a fresh looking cow pie woke me up. Then she went outside in the pouring rain and shit for like 20 more minutes. And it's her birthday today!

7:35am Jeni
OMG
did she get into something?!?!

7:35am Kate
Also, I just wrote on your wall, so you should read that. And look later today because I'm going to upload a picture of my new haircut.

7:35am Jeni
Nice!

7:35am Kate
No, I don't think so, although I did pull a string out of her ass this morning and so I took away her blanket that she sucks on.

7:35am Jeni
lol
dogs are such a pain in the ass
When Gidget has the runs I feed her rice
or you can put canned pumpkin in their food
it helps "bulk up" their stool
(sick)
Also! YES! I love the star idea

*Side Note: Star Idea -- Facebook Wall Post*
 Also, I noticed Alj**** liked your poop status. WTF?! He needs to back off.

7:38am Kate
He's a freaky ass stalker! He also sent me one of these message things last night. Creepy.
I put oatmeal in her food yesterday which made it less splattery and more cow pie like. Gross.

7:39am Jeni
I think I may need to print off this conversation and frame it

7:39am Kate
Tonight I'll call the vet and cook her stuff. I didn't have time yesterday because of the locksmith coming and Monica cutting my hair.
Haha! Seriously
OMG!!!!!
IT'S POOP 09!!!!!!

7:39am Jeni
OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You are a psychic!
[editor's note Kate wrote this in a card instead of the date because 2009 sucks so far for both of us]

7:40am Kate
Apparently. . .hmm let's call it Fucking Awesome 09. Will that work?

7:40am Jeni
Do it!
Let's call it Super Hot Guys to Make Out With 09

7:41am Kate
YES! And Jeni and Kate Will Have a Kick Ass Trip to South America 09.

7:41am Jeni
I see a lot of cards being mailed in our future
apparently that is how one communicates to the gods via the date line
who knew?!!

7:41am Kate
For real. Be aware though that the price of the stamp went up.

7:41am Jeni
The Government Takes Too Much of My Money 09

7:42am Kate
Also, I justified my tattoo (which my dad told my mom about BTW!). I figure that if God put a giant fucking birthmark on the back of my leg that I don't want, I can have something there that I do want.
Hah!

7:42am Jeni
HA! Love it!
God needs to be schooled
and I think your tat will do just that
how did your mom react?

7:43am Kate
She just kept going "Mmmm. . ." in a disapproving tone my dad said. She didn't mention it to me yesterday though. She just wanted to see the links to the S.A. trips.

. . .

7:45am Jeni
Nice! I love your mom! Mrs D*xon Rules 09!
bye! have a good day!


Moments later on Kate's  Facebook Wall. . .

Jeni Garlich The reason you are my best friend is because of the AWESOME conversation we had this morning. Big Screen AOL LIVES ON!
Lots of Hot Shoes 09!!!! - 7:46am

Jeni Garlich Or better yet, Cinnamon Bun Ice Cream Makes You Skinny 09!! - 7:46am
 
Kate like this.

At around 9:30AM I heard a knock on my door. Mind you this is Saturday and while I was already awake (thank you, Stress, for waking me up at 5am each day!) I was not prepared to find two people holding Bibles outside my door. Even more surprised to find that one of them was a woman with WAY TOO MUCH EYELINER. Especially for 9:30 IN THE MORNING. Hello! 

Note: Problem with my house is I don't have a peephole. I have some windows at the top, because apparently the people that lived her before were giants. Or they just wanted to pretend like they could see out. So I must open the door to see who it is. Or run around to my bay window and peek out, which I've done, but didn't think about doing this morning because although I was awake, I was wishing I wasn't.

Once I opened the door and saw the eyeliner and the bibles, I knew I was in for it. The man never talked, but Ms. Eyeliner jumped right in. She didn't apologize for knocking on my door too early, but did say that it was a little chilly out so she'd keep it brief. Um, okay.  Was that supposed to make me feel sorry for her? Or admire her strength for braving 55 degree weather?

She asked me how I felt about god blessing some with prosperity and not others? And did I think God did this? What was my opinion? That she knew this was a tough question, but lots of people were thinking it. What did I think? 

And I wanted to say, my opinion is god blessed you with too much eyeliner and a desire to look like an Egyptian Pharaoh, but instead I just said I wasn't interested. Which wasn't nearly as awesome a response as I'd hoped for.

But really someone should tell the Mormons/Jehovah's Witnesses/Crazies that Jesus talk at 9:30AM on a Saturday is not going to convert me.

Especially when you wear a lot of eyeliner and kind of look like a hooker in a cheap business suit.

Just a tip, Jesus! You're welcome!

Yesterday I wore my new yoga pants to work. It was awesome and very comfortable. However, when I got home I realized I'd been wearing them backwards all day.

I seriously have a problem with this. This is twice now!

UPDATE: I just went back and read first entry where I admitted to wearing clothing backwards and I see a common theme here, I AM NOT ALLOWED TO WEAR CLOTHES WITHOUTTAGS. Apparently if clothing gets all fancy and has a printed tag rather than an attached tag, I CANNOT DRESS MYSELF PROPERLY.  I am a genius.

UPDATE PART TWO: It's been awhile since I posted and I felt the need early on to censor myself. To not tell you about how ALL DAY LONG I worried about camel toe. And I was kind of pissed because I checked in the store to make sure there wasn't a camel toe issue when I bought them, but then yesterday, they were too baggy in the front and the extra material kind of gathered in a not-quite-camel-toe-way but a still a way-too-damn-close-camel-toe-for-work-attire-way. And shockingly, wearing the butt part on your crotch doesn't work well for yoga pants either!

And so you see, Internet, I was going to avoid the camel toe part of my story at first. I was going to spare you. But then I remembered why you read this blog (if you still do -- are you out there? I'm sorry I suck at posting) you read this blog to point and laugh. And there is NOTHING better than camel toe to point and laugh about.

You're welcome, Internet.

After letting the dogs outside this morning, I peaked out the window to catch a glimpse of them playing in the yard. There are few moments where I feel real pride as a homeowner, but one of them usually is watching my dog (now dogs) play and run in my yard. The yard I own. The yard I forget to water. But you know, it's mine. And this morning, I expected to feel the same surge of pride when I peered through the mini=blinds. But instead of a surge of pride, I burst out laughing.

Gidget, as you well know Internet, has her fair share of super cute dog sweaters. And this morning Olive (new puppy) was shivering so I went and grabbed her a dog sweater that was too small for Gidget. I left the dogs outside to play while I went in and made breakfast.

But when I peaked out, what I saw was what I've always longed for -- true sisterhood. Gidget, not wanting her bratty little sister, Olive, to borrow her clothes, was trying to pull it off her / dragging Olive around by the sweater. And Olive completely oblivious and only wanting to be near her big sister, sat wagging her tail as Gidget tried yanking it away.

Having two dogs is awesome.

Alright. So my last post was a little dramatic. But to be fair, I had just learned my dad had prostate cancer and I was officially Freaking Out.

The good news is it looks like they caught his cancer early. Most likely he will have his prostate removed, which should get all the cancer but the surgery has some complications. Complications that he is not a fan of, complications that he has dubbed "The Two L's: Limp & Leaky" and he's talking about his penis.

So yeah, that's been fun. Chatting with my dad about his junk. In fact, we dubbed the recovery period Boner Watch 2009 because that's the kind of family we are. If my dad has cancer we're going to crack viagra jokes. (Note: Viagra will not solve the limp problem, BUT there is a shot that gives you a two hour boner. WTF?! TWO HOURS? Side note: Our family joke is that he'll take the shot, wait an hour and forty-five minutes and then call in my step mom. BECAUSE TWO HOURS HOLY LORD. I told him he'd have to check out Sting's tantric sex books because HOLY SHIT A TWO HOUR BONER.)

So yeah, the hope is he'll have the surgery and be both cancer and complication free. And I'm less dramatic about it now. So I apologize Internet for putting the whole "MY WORLD SUCKS, PITY ME" post out there and not following up.

In other news, I got a new dog. Oh Internet, what have a done.

Dear 2009:

Suck it.

I mean seriously, this year is pretty shitty so far. And I had high hopes for you. In fact, I make a superstitious wish every day that something I'm afraid to ask for out loud will happen in 2009. And now? Now I"m not so sure that I should wish for anything in 2009. Because so far all you've done 2009 is stick up my butt. Hard.

I am not sure what you are trying to prove, 2009, but I'd like you to stop all this. I'd like you to play fair. Worrying about both of my parents isn't cool. It isn't nice to kick a girl when she's down, 2009. And really, let's be honest, that's what you've done.

Your younger sister, 2008, was a bit of an asshole in November and December, but you've really gone and out done her in these first few months, 2009. It's like you took what she started and then really amped it up, put your own spin on it and blew it all up in my face.

So thanks for that. This shrapnel in my skin stings a bit.

I'm not sure what you want. But if you just tell me, I'll find a way to give it to you. It's not even March yet and you've broke me down. You win.

Now will you knock it all off?

Hopeful,
Jeni

My high school boyfriend was my first real love. And it ended poorly. We've been over that. But the thing is, I've always been a little bummed that it ended SO poorly. I mean certainly, I would have preferred at the time to not have been shoved in a closing door, or to have avoided the multiple police reports, but even now, I wish it had ended is such a way that it didn't take 8 years for me to feel comfortable reaching out to him. Or more like my Aussie Romance, because while yes that lasted several days instead of several years, I look back on that happily. Not with shame, anger and hurt.

The thing is even though he turned out to be totally nuts, I did love him. And it's bizarre to think that this person I loved for 2 years is now totally absent from my life.

So I took a little action. I decided to message him on Facebook. This could end poorly. I'm aware of this. But at some level, I have to believe he's finally over me and moving on with his life. I mean even I am not that wonderful that one should pine after me for 8 years. And hey! It turns out he's married. And has a kid. Which, I must admit, totally freaked me out for about an hour. But then I was like, wait, you can't be married and have a kid AND still be a total nut case, right? Odds that he will again stalk me have decreased, yes?

We'll see.

It's just that I wish he and I could have the kind of relationship where the occasional life update is possible. And that if he emailed me I wouldn't then also strongly consider the fact that I should immediately change my email and alert all of my friends that he might be back.

It's been a decade since we first met. And 10 years ago, I really loved this person. 10 years ago, I was discovering myself, my sexuality and what it felt like to learn to love someone. Even though it ended badly, I can't erase that it was with this person that I experienced all of these emotions. And I just want to be able to have a part of me look back on all of that fondly and without fear. I want to remember this person with some love and not all hate.

I forgave him a long time ago. And yet, I never got to grieve the end of our relationship. By the time we were breaking up I was so frustrated and angry that I wasn't sad at all. And I'm not sad now. I just never got to say good-bye. I never got to reflect on what our relationship was like. I never got any sort of closure or ideal break up ending. And now that we're sort of talking again, I find myself very confused.

Why the hell wasn't his first response, oh by the way, I'm totally sorry I stalked you. And that I was a complete dick back then. I've grown up. How are you?

Or does he think I owe him some sort of apology?

Police reports and threatening parent interventions do not inspire closure. And I guess a part of me wants to hear his apology, even eight years later, for taking our first love and turning it into crap. For being totally full of shit for two years. And for you know, shutting me in a door.

But even more than that (thus proving I am likely opening myself up for pain again) I would like us to be friends. Not friends that talk all the time. But adults who can admit that even while we were most likely toxic for each other, our lives crossed and despite all the shit, tears and pain, there was a love there once. Not long lasting, meant to be love. But stupid teenage love that bites you in the ass. 

And I guess I'm learning I'm not the kind of person who can erase that completely. Once I love you, a part of me will always care. A part of me will always hope you're happy now. Even if you did teach me what text messages were by texting me a million times a day with my bra size a year after we broke up. Even still, I don't want to hate you.

I don't pray, but I do have a totally superstitious belief that I SWEAR works. I can't even tell you about it for fear that my bragging about the success will jinx it. But it's not something that unusual. I started doing it as a kid and it stuck. But it works a lot of the time. I'm not sure why I'm okay doing something 5th graders to get their wish, but not praying, but I am.

Also. I'm not normally superstitious. But I am TOTALLY superstitious about this. And I felt I had to admit that to you Internet. That while I feel dumb praying to God, and even more ridiculous praying to a saint (my brother tried to convince me to pray to St. Anthony) I will totally make a wish when it is appropriate. And when I think it's a lucky time.

And so while you might be praying. I'll be wishing. I hope we both get what we want.

I have a problem with praying.

When I was 16-years-old I became a fundamentalist Christian much to the dismay of my parents. I was raised Catholic, and as far as Catholics are concerned there is no worship like Catholic worship. So why waste your time. It wasn't that my family was particularly observant, we weren't. In fact, I never got my first communion. But the rituals of a Catholic mass were familiar and comforting. And the Jesus Rock with overhead slides and preachin' pastors turned my family off. I liked it though.

I liked feeling like there was a plan. That at some level God wanted a personal relationship with me. That there was a person who loved me and who understood why all this stuff was happening. Not only did He understand it. He planned it. At the time it comforted me.

Now it kind of pisses me off.

I mean really, God? Really? The depressed mother thing was part of your plan? The 10-year divorce was part of your plan? Because if so, can we have a job evaluation? I'd like to go over your planning skills. I think they are lacking.

When I was 16, I prayed all the time. And I worked on praying better. Praying for God's will, not my own. So when my grandfather was ill, I prayed for God's will. And that I hoped God would make my grandfather better, but if it wasn't in His plan that was okay. Just don't let my grandfather suffer. Amazingly enough my grandfather bounced back. But months later when the cancer relapsed I was certain it was because I hadn't prayed enough. Apparently I owed God more than I thought.

This all stopped when my friend Nick died my Sophomore year in college. I tried to believe in a plan. That somehow his death made sense in the grand scheme of things. Many of my church friends seemed to find comfort in this, but all I found was anger. Sure, I was angry that Nick was dead. I was devastated. But I wasn't really angry with God. EXCEPT for when someone told me this was part of His plan. Because if that was supposed to comfort me, it didn't. It made me hate god.

I had a lot of guilt surrounding Nick's death and my anger with God. Nick was my friend from church and it would have hurt him to know that my falling out with Jesus was over him. But it's the truth. Suddenly all the dogma stopped making sense.

There isn't a plan. It sounds nice. It's much easier to believe that somehow all the bullshit in your life is for a greater purpose, but I just didn't buy it. And I still don't.

And so now when bad stuff happens, I'm unable to pray. I would feel like such a hypocrite. When I was a believer I didn't think it was fair to pray to God only when you wanted something. That even a relationship with God should be a little more two-sided. And I guess that part of my fundamentalist phase has stuck.

I don't know what I believe in God. I don't go to church. And I don't even like a lot of things I used to believe. I think they are wrong. So it feels wrong to pray. It feels selfish. My brother thinks I'm an idiot, because what's the harm? But I guess I think if God exists, it would be annoying for Him to have people like me only give Him a call when they need something.

Here's the thing, God and I used to be pretty tight. I used to talk to God about my day. About everything. And so now I feel like I'm just one of those shitty friends who calls when their boyfriend dumps them, but doesn't call any other time. It doesn't seem right. And for whatever reason, until I know where I stand with God, I am uncomfortable praying.

And I'm more okay with that than I am praying.

Go figure.

So it snowed. A lot. And last year I was a genius and paid a guy to plow my drive way. This dude had an ATV with a plow on it in the back of his truck. It took him like 7 minutes to plow the snow. IT RULED. I paid him.

When it snowed yesterday, I again called him and asked if he remembered the lazy girl who didn't want to shovel her driveway. He said yes. I said I was feeling lazy again would he like to come plow it with his ATV. He said yes.

PROBLEM.

He didn't show up. So I got home last night around 8 o'clock to 7 inches of FROZEN SNOW. I did not shovel it at 8 o'clock. I just jumped/ran to my door squealing* the entire way.

Now it is time to leave for work. And I can't decide if I should go shovel this mofo or say 'eff it' and hope that either a) it all freaking melts or b) DUDE MAKES GOOD and comes and shovels it today.

Why is Ralph always out of town when it snows this much?

Also, as an aside. I had to shovel a spot in the grass for Gidget to pee.

If she wasn't so cute I might have punched her.

I didn't.

Anyone want to shovel my driveway?


*Note: I couldn't figure out why squealing looked wrong when I first wrote it. Then I spell checked it and I realized I FORGOT THE U. You know after Q. I need to go back to bed folks.

Two things:

1. I found the best underpants ever at Gap Body. I think they are called supersoft. They come in a girl/boy short version that has buttons up the front. And then a regular bikini version. They are like wearing butter on your butt. Buy theses. DO IT. You will thank me! (Sorry, they don't have these on their website so I cannot link to them, or buy more for myself, damn it.)

2. These underpants are so soft that when I went to check out on the regular Gap side (Gap Body registers were closed) the guy ringing me up FELT MY UNDERPANTS and commented on their softness.

Tell me that doesn't make you want to go out and buy these underpants right now. It made a gay man want to rub my butt. TRUE STORY.

Dear Future Kids,

Yesterday was one of those moments in history that changes the world. And yesterday the world did change. Some of that change was symbolic, certainly, but much of it was very real. And I imagine one day you'll ask me about what I was doing when Barack Obama became President. And I want to tell you now while my memory is fresh.

Yesterday was a fabulous day even in the middle of a terrible month. My mom (your future grandmother! Weird!) has been having a very difficult time lately. For the past two weeks I have been staying with her and trying to help her get her life back together. This has been challenging in ways I never imagined, and I pray that you never have to take care of me. Mothering your mother is exhausting and heartbreaking. And very often quite irritating. And while I imagine I will be a fantastic mother (read: BEST. MOM. EVER.) and you'll love me very much, I am quite certain that I will also annoy the crap out of you. And the best way to avoid that is to NEVER move back home. Just a tip from 28-year-old me to you. Once you get out, STAY OUT. For both our sakes.

Anyhow, I was supposed to do a lot of stuff with my mom yesterday, but I decided to scrap all that and just sit and watch history unfold. This was a very good decision. I encourage you to do this often, to put the to-do lists aside and just stop and enjoy life. This is hard for me. I hope it will be easier for you.

So for that future history worksheet you'll have to fill out, this is what I was doing. Sitting on the couch, trying not to kill my mom, and weeping at the beauty of it all. I know happy tears don't make sense to you as a kid, and believe me even as an adult I find them odd and frustrating, but there was something so beautiful about yesterday. The waving flags, the thousands of people on the mall, the First Family, Sasha's amazing coat, and let's be honest, I hope in your history books they have a picture of Aretha Franklin's hat, because HOT DAMN that was awesome.

I hope that President Obama will be President for the next eight years, and that means that likely you'll be born when he is President. I was born when Regan was President, so sadly you are already much cooler than me. I will forever hold this against you. You will be infinitely cooler than I was, even on the first day of your life. You're welcome.

You will probably not ever fully realize how amazing this moment was. Because it will not be unusual for you to look up on the television screen and see a black man as President. To see a black First Lady. This will be normal. And this is one of the reasons I weep.

Because how incredible is that that the world you will enter will have changed so drastically in such a short time? When your grandparents were children they used different bathrooms than black people. They drank out of different water fountains. I imagine this will utterly confound you. And for that I am so grateful.

I hope that you will see in your lifetime a woman become President. And I hope that you will not find it strange or startling. That you will simply accept that all people, regardless of race, creed or gender ARE created equal. And I hope you will never doubt a love between two adults, regardless of their gender. I hope you will see love as love. And people as people. And I think yesterday was an incredible step in that direction.

I promise to not normally be such a sappy parent, but yesterday made me smile when very little else has been able to do so in the past two weeks. And yesterday gave me hope, when I have felt quite hopeless recently.

The world will not be perfect. And you will grow up facing your own struggles. And I will inevitably be a cranky old person that apologizes to you for growing up in a world less safe than when I was a child. But remember this: I will be wrong. (This will not happen often, by the way, but I'm telling you now.)

The world always has its struggles. There is always hate. There is always violence. And sadly there will always probably be war, famine and disease. But you will work to make it better. And you will see progress. You will be some of that progress.

And while the challenges are new, and new is often scary, your world is better. It is better because of you. It is better because your generation will never know of a time where a biracial boy, raised by a single mother and his grandparents wasn't President. And that right there, that's the American dream. You'll hear it over and over growing up that you can be whatever you want to be if you work at it -- and that's not always true, sadly --but yesterday it was.

And yesterday was an incredible day to be an American.

I wanted you to know this. I wanted you to know that when I cried tears of joy, many of them were for me, but some of them were for you. The kids I've yet to meet. Because I know the world you'll be born into will be one a little more tolerant than the one I was born into. And what else could a parent ask for?

I can't wait to meet you. I can't wait to see how you'll change the world in ways I've yet to imagine.

I love you,
Your future mom

P.S. Here's another tip from 28-year-old me to you. Another one of those moments you'll have to fill out on a history worksheet will be about when President Kennedy was shot. First, don't ask me. I will likely remind you just how young I am and that I wasn't even born yet. And even though that will be hard to imagine, that there was a ever a time except for when dinosaurs were roaming the earth, that your ancient mother wasn't alive. There was. The person you should ask is my dad (your future grandfather). But you should be prepared to have a very long talk with him. He cannot talk about JFK without going on for hours. And so you should know this now -- when you ask him anything about history--he will relate it to JFK. In fact, when I asked how to do long division, I learned about JFK. When I asked him to show me how to make scrambled eggs, I learned about JFK. So there, I've warned you. Your grandfather is a wee bit obsessed with Kennedy. Watch out.

On the phone with my brother as he drives to pick up my mom in Minnesota:

Jeni: Yeah. I mean I like my Mac. I still like certain things about a PC better. I am not one of those people who wants to makeout with their Mac.

Brother: I am.

Jeni: ::Laughs::

Brother: If my Mac had a penis, I'd blow it.

Conversation between girl and her boyfriend as they are getting ready to go meet friends: 

J: Does my outfit look okay? I have a new bra on. Does it make my boobs look slutty?

R: No. You look nice.

J: Okay. You sure. Even with glasses. I don't want to be a naughty librarian.

R: No. You look nice. Uh, sorta like Tina Fey. But blonde.

J: Hey! Thanks.

. . .

J: Wait.

R: What now?

J: When you say Tina Fey, do you mean as herself? . . . Or as Sarah Palin?

R: Oh god no. Not Sarah Palin. Jesus.

J: PHEW! I was going to have to start all over if I looked like Sarah Palin.

R: Totally.
 

Rather than make a list of resolutions, I decided to revisit my 100 things list. And hey! Those are some good ideas. Although what was I thinking on some of them? Hanglide? Really?

I am impressed I've managed to cross off a few without really trying too hard. So, perhaps, for 2009 my goal will simply be to try to accomplish more of my 100 Things. I am going to aim to at least accomplish 5 of these things for next year.  Annnnnd go! 

(Note: I've crossed out the ones I've accomplished and I'm bolding the ones I think I can do in 09)

1. Remodel my kitchen, doing a small part of it myself (most likely the floor)
2. Train my dog to play dead
3. Get married
4. Read Moby Dick twice
5. Do karoke 
6. Speak French conversationally
7. Live in another country
8. Make out in a waterfall
9. Run for local office
10. Really learn HTML code
11. Design a real website for my blog
12. Scuba dive
13. Visit Alaska
14. Sew something for my house 
15. Write and record my own album
16. Learn to flamenco dance
17. See the pyramids
18. Host a formal dinner party with fancy china and crystal
19. Have custom letterpress stationary made just for me
20. Get published one (or more) of the following: The New Yorker, Vaniety Fair, Esquire, The Atlantic
21. Learn to paint
22. Have and raise children
23. Organize my closets and keep them that way
24. Learn to enjoy cooking
25. Break a world record
26. Tour Western Europe
27. Go back to Eastern Europe, explore more 
28. Learn how to make a fire in my fire place
29. Grow an herb garden and a cutting garden
30. Get to know my neighbors better
31. Set a budget and stick to it
32. Beat Ralph at Wii Tennis on a regular basis
33. Find a sport I like 
34. Write a book and have it published 
35. Chronicle my mother's depression from my point of view
36. Act on stage again
37. Stop picking my nails
38. Take photos every day for 1 year, post online, do not use camera phone
39. Buy a digital SLR camera and learn to be a better photographer
40. Volunteer at a women's shelter 
41. Be comfortable speaking in public
42. Turn off the TV for an entire month
43. Learn to play the piano
44. Change my own tire
45. Make a quilt
46. Return to Austrailia and explore the Great Barrier Reef
47. Go the Kentucky Derby, sport a giant hat
48. Buy a second dog, train them well
49. Take Gidget for a walk every single day for one month 
50. Go on a camping trip with my boyfriend, sleep under the stars
51. Dance on a bar
52. Cook a gourmet meal
53. Stay at a Four Season hotel, lie around in the robe all day, eat room service
54. Pay my dad back all the money he's let me "borrow" over the years
55. Eliminate all debt
56. Buy an original piece of artwork
57. Take a cross country road trip
58. Find a job that makes me feel like I'm making a difference each day
59. Visit all seven continents
60. Visit all fifty states
61. Ride horses on the beach at sunset with the man I love 
62. Ride side saddle
63. Write my movie 
64. Read to elementary school kids on a regular basis
65. Make a cake with fondant icing from scratch
66. Elope (either to get married or to renew my vows)
67. Meet Hillary Clinton
68. Own a place on the water with a dock and a boat
69. Live in the same city as my childhood best friends again
70. Live in a foreign country with my kids long enough for them to have an accent
71. Hanglide or skydive
72. Save for my retirement
73. Be comfortable parallel parking
74. Learn to raise just one eyebrow at a time
75. Participate in a public dance off and win
76. Help the puppy not freak out when I leave
77. Tour Italy
78. Build a wooden structure mostly by myself
79. Work out regularly
80. Own a store and sell awesome stuff
81. Ride a camel, elephant or giraffe
82. Build a time capsule with my kids, dig it up when each one reaches a life milestone (graduating from college, getting married, etc.)
83. Hear my song on the radio
84. Learn to make my grandma's chicken and dumplings
85. Avoid pizza for three months
86. Ride in a hot air balloon
87. Actually mail holiday cards to all my friends and family
88. Swim with dolphins
89. Learn to snowboard well
90. Learn the Ava Maria and sing it at my grandmother's funeral 
91. Adopt a rescue animal
92. Visit Holland when the tulips are in bloom
93. Smoke pot just once
94. Do a back flip on the trampoline or a front flip off a diving board
95. Master the back handspring
96. Be able to do the splits again
97. Backpack through Europe and then return later and visit Europe with money
98. Volunteer at the Ronald McDonald House again
99. Write and publish a children's book
100.  Raise my daughter(s) to be a woman more self confident than myself, someone who can kick ass and make a fabulous cookie
101. Live happily ever after

This Christmas has been a difficult one. Like the rest of America, I'm broke. I was hoping Congress would pull through at the last minute and give me a personal bail out. I don't need billions, c'mon! I don't even need millions. I'd just take $2000 and be thrilled. But apparently only corporate types get the bail out. 

I'm almost done, but I have three gifts still to get and I'm hoping that although I've had almost zero activity this month I still have some readers. Ahh! Help! 

By tomorrow I must get: 

-A hostess gift
-A gift for Ralph's parents
-A white elephant/rob your neighbor (or as it is known in my family a "fuck your family") gift  

All gifts must be $50 or less (each) and must be awesome.

So there you go, Internet, I challenge you to be most awesome. I believe in you. Don't let me down.

Here is my gift to you:



You're welcome.

An excerpt from my brother's Christmas wishlist:

Coat (either a black pee (sic) type coat or a regular winter coat, I've lost both, I have no coat and my heater in my car is broken, I am cold a lot*)
Fleece (lost that too)
Gloves
Normal white socks, the no neck kind (i have no socks)
Jeans (all my jeans have holes all over them, too cold)

I read this list and I laughed out loud. I mean it is sad he is "cold a lot" but seriously, kid, what are you wearing these days?

This one is applying to medical school, ladies beware! 

*emphasis added

Recently a friend was surprised to learn that I was very nervous about the outcome of the recent Presidential election. When he asked why I first came up with a list of logical reasons I had at the time:

• New voters may not actually turn out like expected
• The predicitions of Obama's landslide may make Obama voters complacient and/or may motivate McCain voters
• The 2000 election
• The 2004 election

My friend came up with numerous reasons why my fears were not warranted. And so I told him my top reason for being worried:

J: I was afraid that God would smite me. Just like he does on America's Next Top Model. EVERY SEASON.

E: What?

J: I was afraid Obama wouldn't win simply because I WANTED him to win and God hates me. Just like how Annaleigh lost. And every other person I've wanted to win ANTM.

E: Seriously?

J: Well. Sort of.

E: Did you really just compare Obama to Tyra Banks?

J: No!

J: . . . I just compared Obama to Annaleigh.

Blink

Blink

J: And McCain to McKee.

Blink

Blink

J: And well, yes, I compared GOD to Tyra.

E: Oh okay, well that makes perfect sense.

J: See! I had every reason to be afraid!