He won't even look at me.

So unhappy. Here he is being dropped off for his neutering. Here’s hoping he forgives me. Here’s hoping I get him back alive (we brought him to the sketchiest discount neutering facility- more on that later).

Some days you need a little help.

Marta may or may not have walked in this morning and found me listening to the following video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d6wRkzCW5qI

quotes from my boss

“I believe I asked that someone bring me a cookie. I’m going to remember this when it’s performance report time.”

texts from the road yesterday

Marta: i just had a flashback of the time you explained to charlie what a fupa is and he didnt really appreciate the humor. hahaha. oh man.

Jessica: sometimes i think moments like that are a good snapshot of my life.

almost famous...

So today, I pulled into the parking lot at work and a group of my coworkers got out of the car next to mine and immediately, Candice says to me "Your face is on a poster at Whole Foods!"

WHAT.

Recently, I agreed to do a product trial with Skin Organics (the offici

al skin care line of the dreamy Bachelor). I DID do "before" photos and I DID sign release forms saying that they could do whatever with them and I DID momentarily fear that my coworkers and others would see them. But I thought to myself SURELY no one is ever going to see these photos because they probably had a ton of people doing this trial and tons of places for these ads to be. But sure enough, the photos are up and they've been seen. Amy was kind enough to get a photo for me. Melissa tells me that they'll be going up in the office.

Without further ado, here are my "before" photos. I would like to point out my favorite elements- A) I am not from Wayland and B) next to my name and face it says Oily Skin in bold. Awesome.

I totally do this

No one gets him.

So Oscar is being really weird lately. He’s been skulking around the house and hiding under the bed and glaring at you when you go to pet him. Between that, the screamo music and dark clothing he’s been wearing, Marta and I have begun to think of him as our moody teenage son. Sometimes he joins us on the couch when we watch TV but he won’t look at us and likes to pretend that he doesn’t even care about people food, which he used to beg for so desperately. I’m really trying to be understanding but every now and then I say something mocking like “Oh- the little prince has decided to join us this evening- to what do we owe THIS pleasure?” To which he rolls his eyes and seems to say “no one gets me.”

He usually sits on top of the toilet and watches me put on make-up in the morning. He’s still been doing that, but now he has this ironic look on his smug little face and when I smile at him in the mirror he mutters things like “… you are so generic.”

I’m really at a loss. The angst in the apartment is almost tangible. We’re hoping that the removal of his manhood will make him chill out a little. Speaking of which, Marta is not allowed to make any decisions about that independently. Do you know what she asked me the other day? “Do you think we could just find someone who we can just pay under the table to come over here and do it?” Yeah. No.

I just like to keep it classy, you know?

Leave it to me and Julie to go to a Super Bowl party and end up drunk and discussing feminist spirituality and how much we love each other.

Delusions of grandeur

Me: I was just thinking about how messed up it is that while children have imaginary friends, I as an adult have an imaginary hit man.

Marta: I’m not sure how that compares with the imaginary men who are in love with me…