the crappy music gods are sending me prophets

One of my coworkers just forwarded me a list of upcoming A Capella concerts. OK. WHAT THE HECK. How is it that so many people in my immediate life- in DIFFERENT SOCIAL CIRCLES like A Cappella and musicals?! I feel like the crappy music gods are sending me prophets!

Thank you, Phillip

I went Christmas shopping with my brother Saturday, and took him into Nordstrom to check out some perfume he was planning on buying for me as my gift. I just wanted to price it there in case it wasn’t being sold for less at the Rack or Marshalls. My brother asked the price and the lady behind the counter said $95. Naturally, I didn’t let him buy it for me. When we got outside the store, Phillip turned to me and said, “Well shit, Jess- for that much I could buy you a couple bottles of Jack Daniels. Then, you don’t need to worry about being pretty OR smelling nice to attract men.” Thank you, Phillip.

Quotes from my brother

"I would drive a plow truck through a school bus full of nuns to never have to hear Lincoln Park again."

First Farmville and now this...

Scrabble is taking over my office. This is what I just heard from my desk:
“Just because you found some sketchy online dictionary that says that it was a 14th century Scottish word, DOES NOT MAKE IT LEGAL!”

I watched Meet the Robinsons with some friends last weekend (sweet movie) and two of my close friends told me that the villian, "Bowler Hat Guy" reminded them of me in his mannerisms. Thanks, guys. Actually this was the most awesome villian ever, so I'm flattered.

The time Jessica and Marta trained for a marathon OR The time Marta lost her mind and Jessica went along for the run

While I was home for Thanksgiving, shortly after filling myself with turkey and can-shaped cranberry sauce, I got a message from Marta that said “I was thinking about it, and I think we should run a marathon.”

My first inclination was to notify the texter that they had somehow switched phones with my roommate, Marta because SURELY Marta hadn’t texted this. If I had to pick one thing I know about Marta in my now 6 years of history with her, it’s that she really likes rice pudding and she will eat as much of it as you give/let her in one sitting. If I got to pick a second thing though, it would be that she hates running. Marta is a Mennonite (i.e. pacifist) but if Running were a person, she would kick it in the shins and squirt lemon juice in its eyes.

I remember bringing Marta for night time running excursions back in our Freshmen/Sophomore days. We would get one mile out and turn around and she was convinced, even after doing this route 10 times, that she COULD NOT go further. “I just don’t think I’m ready!” she’d cry. Throughout each run there would be mutters/pants of “I always forget how much I hate this.”

Thus, I was surprised by Marta’s suggestion. After verifying her identity, I reminded Marta that marathons consisted of running and a lot of it. And that she would have to run all the time to train for it- It wasn't just running 26.2 miles in one shot. She persisted that some chubby people at her home church ran one and that if they could do it, we could/should.

Intrigued by the proposition, I consented. I have a tendency towards making decisions that commit my time, money and/or body spur of the moment. Examples I can site off the top of my head are a tattoo and a season of highschool field hockey. If nothing else, "training" will be great exercise. Plus, if I run a marathon, I can brag about it in that nonchalant, yeah-I'm-basically-the-man sort of way. Are you kidding me? I will drop that shit into conversation all the time. Someone will be like "I got the best Indian food last, night. Have you guys ever been to Passage to India?" and I'll be all "GUYS, I RAN A FRIGGIN MARATHON LAST YEAR."

ANYWAY. I'm not actually convinced that we're going to run one, so I am more thinking this "training" nonsense as Marta and I just going running more often lately.

We just completed our first week of "training" (which will always be in " " because it implies that there is going to be a marathon and I'm not conviced this is going to occur). Our first night was ridiculous because it ended in us getting of course and in our efforts to get back to the road we wanted to be on, crossing railroad tracks, climbing an old wooden stair case, scaling a wall and squeezing our bodies through a fence. I should really commit an entry just to this run but I am running (ha!) out of steam now.

Anyhoo. Marathon. I'm interested to see where this goes.

Note to self:

One of my co-workers said that she sets an alarm on her phone to go off every Fri/Sat at 11:45p.m. that says “do not be a slut.” This may be the funniest thing I have ever heard.

good morning, jessica

This morning, I put on pants I haven’t worn for a month because they’ve been at the dry cleaners and they are tight. Not tight as in hella cool either. Tight as in tight. I mostly blame my department director for this because she has been force feeding us scones and bagels and Reese’s peanut butter cups lately. Sitting in my cubicle getting fatter by the minute I feel like veal. I guess it doesn’t help that I’ve been putting Nutella on my toast in the morning. SPEAKING of which, I realized JUST before getting to work, after I had already been on public transportation for an hour (i.e. out in PUBLIC) that I had a spot of Nutella on my face. Maybe my potential future husband passed me today and thought “wow, she’s gross” and now I will surely die alone. Also, what do I have to do not to have someone sit next to me on the train? Suggestions? I’m thinking I will start muttering to myself. Maybe thrash about a little. Ok. Work time.

ah!

funny girl read my blog!

Oscar

Allow me to introduce the newest, possibly temporary member of our little family, Oscar. Cute right? Procede to next picture.



Apparently, Oscar has prefered the privacy of the back of Marta's closet (where she keeps her boots) to do his business instead of his litterbox. This was poorly thought out of his end because Marta is his only real ally in this house. Marta is in New York this weekend but I made sure she got the picture.

McDonalds drive-thru lady just called me fat.

A lady at the McDonalds drive through basically just called me obese. Ok actually i tried to order a cheeseburger and she said (with attitude mind you) "it's not even 11 o'clock yet" because apparently they don't sell cheeseburgers until then but I know that what she meant was "hey fatass, how's about waiting until at least noon before you start stuffing you big fat dumb head with fastfood. How about instead of ordering cheeseburgers through the drive thru because you're too lazy to walk inside, you use your pre-11am time to go to the gym you fat lard fatty pants McFatFat." I suppose I could be getting defensive and reading into this because I was already feeling guilty for being there so early, but she could have just said "we are only serving our breakfast menu right now, m'am." Gosh.

our little family

Marta and I got a kitten together yesterday because it was the next logical step in our master plan to make ourselves completely unappealing to men so that we can die alone, together, as crazy old maids. Yes, we are aware of the 'cat lady' stigma and we went ahead anyway. The thing that killed me about the whole thing was something the lady giving away the kitten said to us as we left.

Back story:

Both of us being aware of the possibility of never finding acceptable men to reproduce with, and both of us wanting children someday, we've actually discussed- with a good deal of nervous laughter- the idea of adopting children together someday. We don't really mean it, and generally we talk this way when things are get particularly discouraging/lonely in the romantic department. I think we just like to keep this idea on our mental table to keep us from getting too disheartened. It's not ultimately that cheering though, and so when we get to the part of the conversation where I blurt out, "Tommy's got two mommies!" we both usually burst into tears. It should come as no surprise that this sort of talk has gotten us stern talking-tos and unsolicited dating advice from our mothers.

So last night, we drove to this cat lady's house to get a kitten because a friend of a friend got one from her a few weeks ago, and Marta hasn't stopped talking about it since. I should add that connecting with this woman was no small ordeal: Marta had to keep stopping by the Tedeschi's where she works and asking for "the woman with the kittens." Anyway. We show up at this woman's house last night for a kitten and even as we are turning in the driveway, we know we have the right place because between the mailbox and the doorstep we see three cats. Story short, we go in and pick out a little brown and gray tiger male kitten whom Cat Lady and her husband (because she had one, and he seemed to like felines too) affectionately called "bright eyes." We decide to take him, Mr and Mrs Cat Lady tear up about losing him and then- oh AND THEN!- Mrs. Cat Lady strokes our kitten's head and says to him: "...these are going to be your new mommies, Bright Eyes."

!!! Marta and I look at each other and she shoots me a look of "don't you dare' because she knows I want to say something that would embarrass her like "Well, we're not TOGETHER" or "Oh no, it's starting" or "Tommy's got TWO mommies!"

I behave myself and save my weeping and awkward jokes for the way home.

So we, yes WE, have a kitten. He is currently nameless but we have some ideas. The list so far is "Woody Allen, Fielding Mellish (you have to be a real Woody Allen fan to know that one), Miles, Wilbur, Marvin, and Waldo. Anna has suggested Spaceship. We're open to other ideas.

introvert

"How can you stay outside? There's a beautiful mess inside." Yael Naim, Far Far Away

Sister Cat by Frances Mayes

Cat stands at the fridge,
Cries loudly for milk.
But I've filled her bowl.
Wild cat, I say, Sister,
Look, you have milk.
I clink my fingernail
Against the rim. Milk.
With down and liver,
A word I know she hears.
Her sad miaow. She runs
To me. She dips
In her whiskers but
Doesn't drink. As sometimes
I want the light on
When it is on. Or when
I saw the woman walking
toward my house and
I thought there's Frances.
Then looked in the car mirror
To be sure. She stalks
The room. She wants. Milk
Beyond milk. World beyond
This one, she cries.

On being alone...

I thought this was great:
"When I get lonely these days, I think: So be lonely, Liz. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person's body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings." -Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love

don't remind me

Hyperventilating. Thank you MSH for the helpful meeting about managing my finances and saving for retirement. Oh, put away that much each month you say? Could someone please tell me what my soul is worth and does SalliMae accept it as legal tender?

3 weeks in

Have I mentioned how toally intimidating the people here are?
I have to fill out some bio information on myself and was given an example to look at of the bios from the department next door. With the exception of one person they all speak 3 to 5 languages. THREE TO FIVE.

Also, I played bocce ball at lunch with my coworkers. I think I very nearly have friends here. AND it turns out that I'm kind of a savant at bocce. Who knew?

bad mood

I'm afraid my soul may be allergic to filing. Also I am currently printing a 213-page document in color because the director of the department can't find the one that I ALREADY PRINTED for her on Friday. I just spent a redwood tree on a document that will probably be out of date next week.

ALSO it took me 2 HOURS to get to work today! Where do all these people need be that is so EFFING important?! PLEASE TELL ME because they were alll in may way this morning! Ok. Yes. I should have left earlier.

Oh I am in a foul mood today.

betrayal

Funny girl made a joke and I laughed. Damn it.

Trouble

The other girl Senior Program Assistant (henceforth SPA) came back from vacation today. She is funny and talks to her co-workers about her bizarre dreams. WTF. My niche is occupied. What am I going to do?

Day 4: Serious Problem

they just bring donuts in here and leave them about.

Day 2: Heels

Note to self: always bring flats.

New Job

Day 1: My new boss is funny and wore sneakers with green shoe laces today. He made a comment about not wanting to hire any more Asians. I think I'm going to be ok. Also, I saw wine in the supply closet.

lyrics in my head this morning

"Will you take me as I am, strung out on another man? Oh California I'm coming home"
California, Joni Mitchell

the lyrics in my head this afternoon

"Out of all the dreams in this whole world

How'd you get so unlucky girl

To find a shell that had no pearl

And a man who couldn't find home"

Willing to Love Again, Hayes Carll

Perspective

"Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, ² looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."- Hebrews 12:1-2

The baby of my dreams

I had a dream that I had a baby and I dropped him and didn't even realize it right away.  I dropped my dream baby.  What does that mean?  Concerning.

Employee of the month.

Mark: Did Jessica go home yet?

Carrie: No. Why? Do you need her?

Mark: No. I just want her to go home.

Subtly in temptation

nostalgia

Looking back, my parents were pretty awesome roommates.

Politics aside...

J : Is it me or is the president of Iran a little bit sexy?

A: Wait, the one who said that the holocaust never happened?

J: Yeah. But politics aside...

A: Oh my god.

I may have created the problem, but someone else came along and shat on it. Literally.

Shocked and appalled.  My roommate and I went on a cleaning spree in the apartment this afternoon because catching a social disease from touching any of the surfaces within, or losing ourselves in the clutter were becoming real fears.  

I was cleaning the toilet in the bathroom and had just finished wiping off all the nastiness when I decided to just throw the wad of paper towel I was using in the bowl.  Had I taken another second or two to think about this, I would have considered what an asinine thing that is to do.  Toilet bowls are not meant for paper towel disposal and our toilet in particular should never be expected to work so hard to do its job.  Short story short, I clogged the toilet.  I flushed it, the water rose and then eventually fell, only to rise back up to the tippy top of the bowl when I flushed it again.  

I used our plunger on it to no avail.  As it turns out, the plungers at IKEA are really more decorative than functional.  I sighed a deep loud sigh of exasperation and went to tell my roommate the problem.  I told her that the toilet wasn't working, that we needed another plunger, and that, after a few moments of zen by the television, I was going to get one.  The message that should have gotten through, since I used the words "clogged" and "not working" is that she SHOULD NOT USE THE TOILET. 

I go in the other room for my moments of zen in front of the tv.  I lose myself in a countdown of the best songs of the 80s.  But I only lost myself in that peaceful brainlessness vh1 induces for 5 minutes or less because before I know it, I hear the sound of the porcelain toilet cover clanking against the body.

My roommate, whose name I will not mention, but which begins with an "S" and ends with an "arah" has taken a tremendous poo in the loo.  And I do mean tremendous- we're talking award-winning both in amount and odor.  I don't know why she thought that any part of the clog would be fixed by working in the back of the toilet, but then I don't know why she would shit in a broken toilet either.

She sheepishly says that she "totally forgot" what I had said about the toilet and couldn't hold it anyway.  Freakin' great, I think, but then I feel badly being mad because this wouldn't be a problem if I hadn't tried to flush an entire roll of paper towel down our loser toilet.

"Ok..." I say, "guess I should really go get that plunger..." Shaws has no toilet plungers I discovered.  But you know who does? CVS.  I stinking love that place.  Is there anything they don't sell?  I could write a sonnet singing their praises, but that is for another time.

The CVS plunger didn't cut it though.  Sarah generously offered to do the plunging since it was her feces we were dealing with now, but it didn't work.  "I think we need a more serious plunger" she said and so we headed off to Target, which is basically CVS on steroids.  After locating the plungers, Sarah asks if we can look at bathing suits.  I say 'sure' because I think she really means 'look' at them.  But then she wants to try them on.  My guilt over my part in the toilet situation outweighs my irritation with the request and concern about my poor third roommate sitting at home unable to use the toilet, and so I go along with Sarah to the dressing room.  

We eventually make our way home and Sarah goes Rambo on our poor toilet, who really is more the victim than the villain in this tale.  Nothing.  NOTHING.  We panic a little.  I say maybe we should get a plumber.  We both hate this idea because we don't want to pay for it and aren't sure who would be responsible for the paying anyhow- the original screw up (me) or the person who shat on the problem ergo complicating it (Sarah).

"Draino!" I say.  Sarah's dad, who had stopped by and who is empathetic while useless in saving us, says that I should get the strong stuff and use the whole bottle.  I leave to go get it and Sarah leaves for dinner reservations.  Shaws lets me down again because they are worthless bastards who never have anything I need, and so I again go to CVS and fall in love with them all over again when I find a bottle of "the strong stuff" right on the shelf where I'd expect it.

So now, I'm sitting at home, alone, waiting and praying for the Draino to work its magic, and accepting the fact that I'm going to be peeing in my backyard tonight.

diet

Weight Watchers. I'm doing it. And I've decided to write about it because otherwise I will eat Truman who is sleeping innocently in my office doorway right now and I'm pretty sure I would get fired for that sort of behavior.
I am so hungry.
Right about now I start asking myself why I pull these sort of hijinks on my poor self. Right about now I can't remember because my body it cannibalizing itself starting with my brain. I think it had something to do with not wanting to be a fat ass or wanting to be more conscientious about eating things that are good for me or some crap like that.
I really can't believe I'm this hungry. I mean I really can't believe it; was I eating a Big Mac every hour on the hour last week? In my memory of life before three days ago- which is getting foggier by the second, I ate less than 200 calories for breakfast and never ate dinner. I think the key to my existence pre-diet was snacking though which I'm too scared to do now because every friggin thing that passes my lips has to be accounted for.
When you let your eyes go out of focus, Truman sort of looks like a bulldog shaped cake.
Mark came up with a really helpful solution though. "What you need to do, is to eliminate your desire for food." He's such a sage.
I am so hungry.

So what did YOU do at work today