tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44987805131132036332012-02-11T23:51:02.005-05:00a lot about very littleJennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.comBlogger1221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-46983492121021233592010-03-31T21:46:00.006-04:002010-03-31T22:02:20.489-04:00

My sis and niece came into town for a laid-back kind of spring break visit. We had some rainy days, but a couple of gorgeous days, too. And thanks to daylight savings time, I was able to get out and play a little bit after work. On this evening, we had walked to the top of the street to what used to be an old abandoned school building. Its parking lot is where the bus used to let us off when

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-50872729070616317322009-09-10T22:24:00.002-04:002009-09-10T23:12:33.567-04:00

I had a conversation today with a coworker about installing a sense of humor in your kids. He and his wife have taught their twin one and a half year olds to fart on them. Yes, they walk up to their parents, sit on them, and fart. It both reminded me of this story and made me feel better about it.Once when my niece was younger and in diapers, before she could talk, so maybe she was one and

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-86012176409920468252009-06-15T21:15:00.001-04:002009-06-15T21:17:54.048-04:00

Mona: He’s cute. I’d go out with him.Me: He’s married. They have 2 kids.Mona: I know he’s married. Pretty much everyone is married but us. Think about it - everyone’s done it. Hermes has. Everyone but us. I know what my problem is, I don’t know about yours.Me: Soo… do you think there could be a guy out there that’s perfect for me that hasn’t gotten married yet?Mona: No. (without

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-50652888649269727862009-06-09T23:28:00.001-04:002009-06-09T23:30:13.384-04:00

In light of my last post, I would like to find out what anti-aging pills this guy is taking, and get my hands on a whole bunch of those.

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-5628360890396473592009-06-07T23:21:00.003-04:002009-06-09T23:27:36.120-04:00

For many years - many, many years - I have, to the eyes of outside observers, looked younger than my actual age. For a long time, I didn't see this as a good thing. Take these examples:- I'm 16, and my mom takes me and my 13-year-old sister for haircuts. The lady at the desks asks my mom for our names and ages, and when she says "16 and 13" the lady looks up, back and forth between my sister

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-57721947105080714332009-05-04T23:26:00.003-04:002009-05-05T00:07:24.451-04:00

Recent conversation I had with a boy I once knew:Boy: "I guess I did call you a moose once (that's right people - a moose), but I think I meant it in an affectionate, friendly way."Me: "mmhmm."Boy: "I mean, you did ask me what kind of animal you look like, right?"(Now, before I respond to this, let me make 2 points:1) I am not so stupid as to ask that question. Especially of a boy who I am

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-42231935009647309702009-05-03T21:17:00.003-04:002009-05-03T21:30:33.823-04:00

Example conversation of my brain talking to my brain:Brain: "hmm. My lips feel chapped. My skin must be dry - the air must be dry in here, I'll get some lotion."a few hours later:Brain: "geez... I keep putting on the chapstick, but they still feel SO CHAPPED."an hour later, while visiting the bathroom at work:Brain: "What the hell??! Why are my lips all swollen and peeling looking? How did I

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-40137202911238324032009-04-07T23:02:00.002-04:002009-04-07T23:05:28.230-04:00

I knew I was forgetting something in the 2-year-old section of the last post, but I couldn't remember what it was, so I babbled about chocolate cake instead (always a good idea).This was it:me - "Good night! I'll see you in a few days at your birthday party!!!"tot - "I tee-teed in your room."My sister failed to mention that.

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-79339174924272532232009-04-06T23:04:00.004-04:002009-04-07T00:00:34.663-04:00

recent work communications (in my own words):work - Unfortunately, everyone (who's not being laid-off) will be receiving a pay-cut, and because of this percent decrease, you will be required to take 2 days off every 4 weeks.me - WOOHOO!!! (immediately begin planning weekend road trips in head.)work - you won't be able to choose your 2 days.me - oh. and your chosen days don't help me out with

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-62908371667390641342009-03-10T22:04:00.001-04:002009-03-10T22:40:22.926-04:00

How a coworker got to know a little more about me this week:(most of the folks I work with are permanent travelers, and work from home when they aren’t on the road. Which means they don’t get the privilege of seeing me in the office everyday, and knowing, say… how I eat.)The setting: my apartment, 4:55 p.m. I had an afternoon dentist’s appointment which meant I got to work the rest of the day

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-47994189129920172712009-02-25T22:27:00.005-05:002009-02-25T23:00:34.534-05:00

1) Thrown Dove dark chocolate candy wrappers over a co-workers cubicle wall, because they have such inspiring messages. Like, "Sleep under the stars tonight" or "A gentle touch speaks volumes". How can I not share these pearls of wisdom??2) The simultaneous wink and finger-shoot at coworkers when passing them in the hall.3) When coming back from the bathroom, instead of taking my key card out

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-72698170412227562952009-02-22T21:10:00.003-05:002009-02-22T21:38:55.769-05:00

Just thought I'd drop in and say that I haven't given up on this blog yet, despite the sparse writing habits. I still have the same old excuses, work takes up too much time and makes my typing limbs hurt, blah, blah. Not to mention gives me less time to come up with other things to write about, blahdidy-blah.In fact, tonight I'm supposed to be working. Right now. Like, for the last 3 hours

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-61661090511625616402009-01-29T22:55:00.003-05:002009-02-02T21:40:53.959-05:00

I got tagged to write "25 Things About Myself" the other day on Facebook by two of my friends (at the same time when everyone else on facebook was also tagged with this.) I told one of them that I would write mine for her, but that I would not put it on Facebook (see #7), but send it to her in an email instead. And I did. And then I thought, as long as I have this, I'll use it as a blog entry.

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-34066113364911757452009-01-27T18:37:00.002-05:002009-01-27T19:52:01.093-05:00

I broke a rule of mine and wrote what's below while at work today.  Because that's the best time to vent/procrastinate/ramble - when one is at work.  And not afterwards when one is weary/trying to have a life.  But instead of emailing it into blogger, I emailed it to myself - because they may be able to see that I'm emailing, but at least they won't have my blog address.  (Because as I've

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-14689023403260888612009-01-22T23:25:00.004-05:002009-01-23T18:02:24.724-05:00

It's been so long since I've updated that it feels unnatural to be doing so. And I have a feeling the longer I go the harder it will get, so I'm going to force something out before I fall asleep here. (Attention-grabbing intro, no?)I blame this on a combination of factors - the holidays, in-town guests (related to the holidays), and just being really tired. And not just generally tired, but

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-30918217351822434202008-12-20T18:58:00.002-05:002008-12-20T19:09:40.226-05:00

It's time for a big holiday, and I seem to be getting sick. It started as I embarked out on my day, with a long list of things to do. Like this, "wait, why is my throat hurting?" fast forward several hours, and I went to bed at 4:30, finally rousing myself this evening after many, many snoozes of the alarm. But I feel pretty strongly that I could have slept the night through. My throat is

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-38588215443154011292008-12-18T19:41:00.003-05:002008-12-18T19:54:51.215-05:00

What? Three posts in one week??? This is CRAZY! Yes, a wild and crazy life I lead... or perhaps I am not so particularly social this week. Nor am I particularly working. What I should be particularly doing is unpacking my new apartment. But why not share a dream instead? That sounds like a good use of our time, right?My friend Dena emailed me this dream today, and I admit, I kind of

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-3309635088472494372008-12-17T22:06:00.006-05:002008-12-18T07:10:54.048-05:00

So... what does it say about you when you are a woman of, oh, let's just say 5'4, and you are out to dinner with a man who is 6'8, and you eat just as much as he does? Say he wants to order all this food and share it, and you think, "whatever dude. I guess you need to eat a lot. If you need all this, then so be it." And then 30 minutes later you look around and realize that you've put away

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-36835091353551320942008-12-15T23:01:00.003-05:002008-12-15T23:26:21.902-05:00

hello the internets,There are a couple of things from the last couple of weeks that we need to catch up on, but I'm tired so let's keep it simple and start with something small and more recent:I was recently talked into coming out of soccer retirement to play in an indoor league on Sunday nights. (Ok, they didn't really have to try to hard to talk me into it, but they should have had to, because

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-56331697437188219592008-12-08T21:26:00.002-05:002008-12-08T21:56:04.832-05:00

I bought my first Christmas present of this season last night. In fact, besides this purchase, I have given absolutely no thought to my Christmas shopping. #1, I am a procrastinator. #2, my brain is unable to think further than the next upcoming event. And I'm moving this weekend, and I've made absolutely no preparations (see #1), so there you go.But over Thanksgiving I had the opportunity to

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-27532920152430074822008-11-25T20:47:00.003-05:002008-11-25T23:15:21.878-05:00

I have not abandoned this blog - not on purpose, at least - and I know I've already used the "work doesn't let me spend all day blogging" excuse, but I have to plead it again. And in two new ways: 1) They took away my gmail! They were already attempting to block all email, but had overlooked gmail, which I could use to mail in posts (which I only did about once, but still, the option was there)

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-26066421728578368892008-11-10T19:40:00.004-05:002008-11-12T07:13:17.392-05:00

I thought I was seeing a younger, sexier Keanu Reeves on collegehumor.com tonight, but wait! It's not Keanu! It's Winston Noel!!Winston is probably my brother's oldest goodest friend. They first met in elementary school, when Winston was a gangly kid with a bowl-cut and big round glasses. (Brock, you got any pictures? I do enjoy a good awkward years picture.) According to our mothers, they

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-15624214500077006302008-11-03T16:51:00.002-05:002008-11-03T18:11:23.954-05:00

After an... interesting Halloween, to say the least, I woke up Saturday morning sick.  Well, I woke up with a sore throat, and thought it was due to my interesting Halloween, but by Saturday night I was romanticising about what deadly disease had taken hold of me, and wondering how long before it would bring sweet sweet death.  And then Sunday I woke up and realized I just had a cold.  Anyway.

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-57326626504995261952008-11-02T20:39:00.002-05:002008-11-02T20:57:30.587-05:00

The best thing I heard today:A friend, who is a large 6'8 - I mean, he fills out his height, had knee surgery this past summer, and is still limping around a little bit. But I was never clear on the exact way he injured his knee. So what does one guy friend do for another guy friend? He tells the story for him. Up to this point all I had heard was that there had been a sports injury. Well,

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-4533835585876326502008-10-31T12:45:00.001-04:002008-11-02T21:00:04.345-05:00

Happy Halloween, everybody.  And what are you all doing to celebrate this great holiday?  Are you reading this right now from your desk at work, where you are at business as usual, only in costume?  No? Well, I am.  Did anyone watch The Office last night?  You know how Pam was the only one that was dressed up in her office?  Well, that is me today.  Except I was quite sure that I nobody would be

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-14853073560580262522008-10-22T15:44:00.002-04:002008-10-22T23:39:01.181-04:00

I don't know why, but the memory of this little conversation popped into my head recently: The scene: Irish pub on St. Patrick's Day.The players: myself, Lob, guy we're friends with, other guy we're just beginning to be friends with, and a bunch of their boys whom we don't know at all. The topic of conversation: guessing a woman's age   Our friend had been explaining to Lob and myself that he

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-17806255728138727692008-10-20T20:30:00.002-04:002008-10-20T20:52:28.821-04:00

Over on the left panel there I have a list of other blogs that I sometimes read (or have read, that might need to be updated now that I think about it), and I got to make a change to it recently. I now have it divided into two categories - for sites of friends and sites of strangers. Thanks to my friend Blay (who has written for me here and here), I now know two whole people with blogs,

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-11449068691556162132008-10-13T21:55:00.008-04:002008-10-13T22:42:33.917-04:00

Lob and I have this friend from our youth that we grew out of touch with a long time ago. How do I describe her? Let's just say that her social awareness is not exactly up to adult level. If I ever get really bold, I will tell you about one of the longest weekends of my life - being a bridesmaid in her wedding. And how I will forever be bonded to my fellow bridesmaids - like those who

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-72672613889636673472008-10-08T17:29:00.002-04:002008-10-09T00:24:51.792-04:00

makes me complain.   When you are overwhelmed with tasks to do at work, and know you will be staying up late into the night hunched over your computer (again), and maybe also you are really tired because you went to a wedding the weekend before and maybe you kind of stayed up all night because you were in a University town and needed to reconnect with your college self (hey - sometimes these

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-38885869162372438842008-10-01T11:14:00.001-04:002008-10-13T06:59:18.057-04:00

So far this morning I have:   A) Driven right on past my exit on the way to work.  Hello and goodbye, place I am driving to!   B) Parked, walked through the parking lot, waved to one of the VPs I work with, through one building where I chatted to the friendly old security guard, through the courtyard, into my building, through the lobby, where I see more people, and then got onto the elevator to

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-65552380870536285012008-09-29T21:49:00.002-04:002008-09-29T22:02:23.454-04:00

No, I don't suddenly have a daughter. This is a guest post from my friend, Blay. Last time we heard from her she was making inappropriate holiday dinner conversation via her baby's monitor. Now that baby is talking on her own! (I can't believe it. But I am glad to see the direction in which her education is being steered.)Little story from yesterday:I took Annabella to the mall and this

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-23363588152265925212008-09-22T21:56:00.003-04:002008-09-22T22:32:26.564-04:00

Once upon a time not so many years ago, Dolly and I were living in our swingin' bachelorette pad together, when we had a conversation about our extreme difference in one opinion: when and what we would tell our parents regarding boys.You see Dolly and I had both started dating (different) guys at the same time, and Dolly did not understand why I wouldn't tell my parents about each and every time

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-44280383030317600902008-09-18T22:15:00.004-04:002008-09-18T23:04:33.202-04:00

Marc's comment on my last post got me thinking about the old days when he and I worked together. It was our first job out of college, an abrupt awakening to the real world, and those of us that started together formed a bond that comes from working many, many long hours together. ah, not so good times. Somehow, my thoughts strayed to this one particular coworker, Toby. (His name wasn't really

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-55181184609352578022008-09-03T14:43:00.002-04:002008-09-05T07:07:38.217-04:00

With the purpose of discussing airfares, in relation to an upcoming trip to my college town…   Dad: "Who are you going to stay with?  Brock?"  (that would be my brother) Me: "No, he has cats.  Two of them."  (I would be very allergic.) D: "oh yeah… I forgot about that.  Why does he have cats?" J: "Because Emily had cats."   (That would be his wife – I almost explained the process of how then

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-5790977559195445772008-08-31T00:37:00.006-04:002008-09-18T20:57:23.238-04:00

I past the one year anniversary of stating this blog this month, and while this is not exactly a momentous event, I thought I'd mark it by posting all my quotes of the week (er, week to 2 weeks)from the past year. And no one will understand them all but me, but that's what this is all about isn't it? Me? I started this thing a year ago partly out of peer pressure, and partly as an outlet to

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-88129962940714542002008-08-24T17:17:00.003-04:002008-08-24T17:25:25.804-04:00

What do you do when you find out someone you're dating has a tattoo of a giant Jesus head covering their upper arm? (Uh, hypothetically speaking, of course...) I mean, sure, at first you react like this: stare. stare. blink. stare. "uh... that's a really big Jesus head there..." (awkward silence) "Wait... is his mouth open?" And then he says, "Yeah, he's laughing."But then after that

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-71629969018958235892008-08-21T14:14:00.001-04:002008-08-21T14:14:18.101-04:00

You know how some people get offended when someone makes this comment to them: "You look tired today."? Well, what about this instead... I returned to my desk a little while ago to find a post-it on my computer with this on it: "Are you feeling ok?  Do you need to go home?"   It seems I have reached a new level in the "you look tired" office-place talk.   I think maybe I shouldn't try my luck

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-35624142074393537312008-08-21T00:12:00.012-04:002008-08-21T01:07:51.153-04:00

All Right.I just got back from my first Backstreet Boys concert. And let me tell you, one good thing about getting old is that I find that I am no longer to cool for boy bands. I will even admit that they were a lot of fun. Almost as much so as the people watching. However, there was a price to pay for the utter coolness of my youth. I learned the hard way that no, A.J. McLean was not in "My

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-60041821920078045152008-08-12T21:04:00.003-04:002008-08-12T21:35:34.724-04:00

After I wrote the last post, I remembered a couple of the (SO VERY IMPORTANT) bad things that were going to go in my list (that I thought about when I was supposed to be learning how to do my job, remember?)1. I had one day of work before I was shipped off to headquarters to learn stuff, and on this day, I realized that there will be no more lunches out with friends during the day. In fact,

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-69942666509394959772008-08-04T21:35:00.003-04:002008-08-04T22:08:33.713-04:00

Cigarettes and popcorn... how does that sound to you? I don't know, maybe you find it an enticing combination. But I am not liking it so much. You see, I have left the happy world of fantasy camp (i.e. temporary unemployment)and am back in the working world with a new job. And for my first full week I have been sent to headquarters to train with the pros (oldtimers), and today and tomorrow, I am

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-21512758899744255542008-07-27T23:03:00.005-04:002008-07-30T15:22:07.083-04:00

I started this blog for a variety of reasons, old fashioned peer pressure was not the least among them, and although it wasn't intended to be centered around my job, both the story that started it all and the name I chose come directly from work.As of exactly a week ago, I am no longer surrounded by my glass beakers, or my people Beakers - after seven years (SEVEN!) I had my last day of work in

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-87259061954641125082008-07-22T12:59:00.003-04:002008-07-22T13:45:51.187-04:00

I can't remember if I wrote about the little eye cream mishap I had a couple of months ago. To recap, a makeup lady (when are they not causing trouble?) went out of her way to stress how much it would mean to her if I would please please use eye cream. So she gave me some for free - because this was very important to her. And I started to use it. And the more I used it, the more I realized, "

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-24464840950826172782008-07-14T16:57:00.001-04:002008-07-30T15:21:36.558-04:00

Unless she is telling you how wide your hips are, at least.I just ran into her in the hallway, and she greeted me with a, "Wooo-oo! You slimming down!"(Note: I am most definitely not slimming down.)me: "No."BL: "Yes you are! What you doing? I tried to walk today but my foot started hurting."And I used the hurt foot opening to talk about my own hurt foot, as well as the knees that have been

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-23931017447339397882008-07-14T11:18:00.002-04:002008-07-14T11:27:44.035-04:00

Most inappropriate status I have seen on facebook:   "(Name) is pissed about the rumor of my good firend of many many many years husband. I could totally kick his ass for it! Now the question is should I tell her??"   hmm... let's see... if I were your good friend of many many many years, what would I want...  Yes - that's it.  I would want you to tell everyone but me.  Perpetuate the rumor, but

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-27592463901313055032008-07-11T16:29:00.003-04:002008-07-11T17:47:05.359-04:00

So sit back, I've got some venting to do. Hey, it's either you or calling up my friends and venting to them, and if I were to do that all the time pretty soon they wouldn't want to hang out with me anymore. So I choose you, internets. You are that special to me.Numero Uno) A kickball lineup for this weekend was sent out over email, and imagine my surprise when I discover that I don't seem to

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-81863914294296483502008-07-10T18:02:00.000-04:002008-07-10T18:07:48.428-04:00

I was reading over on jamelah.net today when I was reminded of something my brain had almost managed to completely repress. Jamelah (and if you ever want to read a blog that actually updates on a regular basis, I highly recommend it! I especially enjoy hearing about her Grandma.) - uh, where was I? Oh yes, in her letter to her hypothetical future potential boyfriend, she goes through her list

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-36214622012862308142008-07-03T18:29:00.003-04:002008-07-03T18:48:26.882-04:00

I was washing my hands in the bathroom a few minutes ago, when I encountered none other than Bathroom Lady. She came in, and we exchanged a few polite remarks as she passed me on her way to the stalls. "How are you?" "Pretty good, how are you?" "oh, fine, fine." Like that. And a moment later she closed the stall door and announced, "Here it go:" and then she, you know, went. She wasn't

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-40392266282359122632008-07-01T16:59:00.004-04:002008-07-01T17:04:57.499-04:00

The wedding referred to in my last post did take place, and was a success. (Meaning, they are now married.) And everything and everyone was beautiful, and from what I could tell, a good time was had by all. I came back exhausted, worked for two days, and then headed off to New Orleans for more fun. And so my brain has been too dead or I have been too busy to update much. Until now! Lucky

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-62974494852861795242008-06-17T19:50:00.003-04:002008-06-17T20:04:44.132-04:00

hey kids! So, tomorrow I embark on a journey to my home away from home - my beloved little college town in the mountains of Virginia. But instead of going to see friends and revisit my old haunts and eat as much of my old favorite food as is physically possible in the matter of a couple of days (my favorite food places there are either sandwich places, or the place that mixes lots of unhealthy

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-45980083618292678222008-06-08T14:44:00.006-04:002008-06-08T15:26:01.150-04:00

I've never done one of these composition challenges from Little White Liar before, but seeing as how there's very little compositioning in this one, I think I can handle it. Here's how it goes:Make a list of 5-10 things you want. Make them things you personally want for you (no Miss America "World Peace" shenanigans). Then think of one thing you need. You can't already have it, because really,

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-77913211115991410632008-06-04T11:48:00.001-04:002008-06-04T11:50:04.168-04:00

I've been trying to make a big decision this week, and as a result I've been feeling a wee bit tense. In fact, if it weren't for my friend the tylenol p.m., I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have slept at all Sunday night. The question is: where to live next? To continue to rent, or to step into the adult world of ownership. To lapse back into the college house with the big front porch and the tight

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-92058560166739091582008-05-29T22:42:00.003-04:002008-05-29T23:18:50.768-04:00

I almost got hit by a car today. Not through any fault of the driver's, but because I stepped out of my car, and began to walk through a parking lot while looking down at my feet (something felt weird with my shoes, ok?!). And the thing is, I almost never go to this place for lunch because I know the parking lot to be so busy - the cars speed around trying to beat each other out for the seldom

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-76131911158686573442008-05-14T23:04:00.002-04:002008-05-14T23:41:14.976-04:00

1) This week my coworker handed me a sheet of paper - when I looked at it, I saw "How to lose 10 pounds in 3 days" written across the top. I said something thoughtful like, "hmm. Well, you let me know how that goes" and tried to give it back to her. But she wouldn't take it - "No, I printed out extra copy for you." "Oh. Thanks..."I guess I should be used to this stuff by now. 2) I don't

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-50038163877757876522008-05-06T16:16:00.002-04:002008-05-06T17:47:37.597-04:00

A while back I suggested that you guys send me your most embarrassing stories, but I think you must have forgotten, because I have received nary a one. That must be some kind of mistake, right? That's ok, though, because that means I don't have to share mine! It doesn't mean I can't share someone elses for them, though.ahem. Here's a little tale about my friend, Dolly. Back in college, Dolly did

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-8653389827705050432008-04-24T16:13:00.001-04:002008-04-27T22:56:14.363-04:00

This week at work while I was REALLY REALLY busy (have I mentioned that in a meeting yesterday we were handed out an article "how to get into trouble at work with the internet"? Not that we haven't been over and over this before. But apparently the boss man came across this (whilst surfing the internet at work?) and thought some of us could do with a reminder. Included were "don't have a blog"

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-44045812360161025292008-04-15T10:13:00.002-04:002008-04-15T12:54:17.359-04:00

I know I have complained here before about the public, clangy scale at the doctor's office, but I have some updated venting to do. I had a doctor's appointment recently, and I went through the usual weighing process, and was then seated in the examining room awaiting the doctor's entrance with my mind off of the scale because that was behind me now. Wasn't it? The doctor came in and started

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-89991256845408071072008-04-14T15:54:00.002-04:002008-07-05T17:07:04.054-04:00

One of my former coworkers here called me last week. His daughter was accepted to my university, and he wanted to ask me some questions about it. The questions were primarily 1) how cold is it there, and 2) how close to the beach is it. She wasn't interested in visiting, she just wanted to know about the beach. But that is not why I am writing... At some point he asked me if many other

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-3604736970522134932008-04-09T13:05:00.002-04:002008-04-09T13:14:05.663-04:00

Hello there, interweb. It’s been a little while. For the past couple of weeks my time and my mind have been overloaded with various matters, and some things did come up that I meant to write down here, but I couldn’t get to it and now it’s all pretty much forgotten. So how about instead I share a recent family anecdote? The best part is my sister has already written it down for me.Here’s the

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-23462609983389950152008-03-25T15:00:00.001-04:002008-03-25T15:03:34.954-04:00

A few weeks ago I wrote about getting pursued across the parking lot of local diner by a toothless cook. I decided to take a break from that place for a while, as I had told him I was not currently obligating, and did not wish to take that conversation any further. But today I was out of gas – I was out of gas before I left home this morning, and since I do not want to run out of gas during

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-1546252751760439282008-03-24T15:45:00.002-04:002008-03-24T15:48:39.571-04:00

Heard just now, as I passed Bathroom Lady in the hallway, speaking to some other ladies, looking like she's on her way out:"I ain't used to drinking all this water and I (mumble, mumble) pee in my pants, and I ain't got no more panties here."What?!

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-48717213133715764442008-03-21T12:27:00.002-04:002008-03-21T12:32:36.118-04:00

Well, at least if you are in my boot camp they are.Today marks the end of the 3rd week of my “I’ll pay you to exercise with me” experience. The program is 4 weeks long, so I am almost done. Let’s review a little bit….I remember very well how I felt arriving at the park on my first day. My only experience with boot camp before had been a shortened, yet more intense, program I did with a friend

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-34038925732352087312008-03-20T12:51:00.002-04:002008-03-20T13:23:01.845-04:00

Hey out there. So, it seems that it has been over a week since I posted, so what if I just tell you a little bit about my evening? Great!Last night I had a date with a guy who I had only met very briefly before, and who came with no references (I couldn’t ask any friends about him), and I didn’t actually have a very good feeling about this date. But I followed through and told myself I had to go

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-12688414768019370922008-03-11T11:18:00.001-04:002008-03-11T11:18:55.688-04:00

I thought I'd try an eye-catching title. Did it work? I'm going to tell the story of how Lob got (in her opinion) the best compliment of her life. Indeed, I believe it has been a lifetime highlight for her, other than her wedding day and the birth of each of her children, and all that kind of stuff that she has to say comes first. (If we were asking me, my favorite highlight from Lob's life

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-75134521836001836192008-03-04T14:55:00.001-05:002008-03-04T14:58:36.962-05:00

Once upon a time back in college, I lived with a lovely Jersey girl named Gorilla. Gorilla had many... special qualities. There are so many little Gorilla stories that are so pleasant to remember, that I was thinking what a shame it is that they've never been written down. I know I've forgotten 98% of them, so before the other 2% slip my aging mind, I'm going to put them here on the internet

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-55281761146573172252008-02-25T21:36:00.006-05:002008-02-26T12:10:39.631-05:00

I got a message on my flickr account congratulating me on having a photo chosen to appear on a travel guide website. It's a picture I took in Toledo, Spain, and I did not submit it to this site - I had never even heard of it before. I guess they search flickr for photos they might use. (You can see it here.)So I'm thinking that it naturally follows that they will also be searching flickr for

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-5335359509391999162008-02-22T10:31:00.004-05:002008-02-22T10:39:12.530-05:00

So, my little brother asked me to do some co-blogging with him, and occasionally write on a mutual topic at the same time. I agreed, and then promptly did not attend to the first request. I am now a week late. But maybe I can make you understand my hesitancy…Here is a small excerpt from my brother’s post:"I’m currently reading Hilter’s Scientists: Science, War, and the Devil’s Pact by John

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-47189084341097798502008-02-20T10:35:00.005-05:002008-02-20T12:33:06.347-05:00

A toothless man just chased me through a parking lot.  A good way to start a Wednesday morning, no?   See, it's been really hard to get out of bed lately.  I'm just so tired.  And my bed is so comfortable!  (New mattress, I love you.)  So sometimes I have to skip things that one might normally take care of before coming to work.  Like makeup.  Or brushing of the hair.  Or finding normal-looking

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-48508980923193034232008-02-14T10:03:00.002-05:002008-02-14T10:08:26.524-05:00

This morning my coworker was talking about the Valentine’s events at her daughter’s elementary school. The kids pay $0.50 for every student/teacher they want to send a singing valentine to, and then the school chorus comes around today and sings to the Valentines – with an announcement beforehand such as, “This is for Mason from Amanda.” Her 3rd grader is sending 23 songs, because she wants to

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-45885459059225343242008-02-12T16:42:00.000-05:002008-02-12T17:42:15.399-05:00

I came across this offer today for a blog makeover. If you think this page looks pretty shabby, then you should nominate it. Even you, person who got here by googling “what a lady looks like going to the bathroom” (and by the way, is that really such a mystery?). Because, let me tell ya, I’m not going to be making it over myself. I don’t do that. That computery stuff. Hey Andy Zulauf –

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-9125653562608709822008-02-06T15:18:00.000-05:002008-02-06T15:22:32.862-05:00

According to the ole Myers-Briggs, I am a feeler and not a thinker. Which means when it really comes down to decision time, I tend to let my feelings overcome that logical voice in my brain. But when it comes to elections, I try to make a thought-out, rational decision. So the day before an election (oh yeah – I am also an incredibly strong perceiver – that category that includes “tends to

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-42995136737896433662008-02-05T13:02:00.001-05:002008-02-05T13:04:41.201-05:00

Just for the sake of posting...   I got up extra early and voted this morning.  (By "extra early" I mean that I kept my alarm set for the same time I always do, but I only hit snooze once instead of twice.)  And I didn't really mind that I had to get up extra early - you know why?  Because I knew that where I was voting there would be a bake sale for me to peruse.  And that meant no boring

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-32402966180171268472008-01-28T18:37:00.000-05:002008-01-28T19:00:53.087-05:00

This weekend I went to a little soiree for a friend of mine who is a bride-to-be. There was a lingerie shower with a dessert and wine theme (yum!) followed by some dancing. When I mentioned the plans to a guy I know, his response was, "Be sure to get some pictures of the girls dancing in the lingerie, and put them in your blog." Now, did he really, seriously think that we would don our gifts of

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-60783737577989605962008-01-25T10:53:00.001-05:002008-01-25T12:02:10.050-05:00

Oh wait.  Computers don't do that!  And if one did, let's face it, it wouldn't this computer from the '80s that I get to work with every day.  Most of the computers here have been updated in the last year, but I still get to enjoy the old total screen freeze followed by an incredibly slow restart process multiple times a day.  hmm... I seem to have gotten onto a different strain of complaining

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-57527954706106997172008-01-23T16:11:00.001-05:002008-01-23T21:26:51.235-05:00

Or, "How to distract yourself with people and places and food so that you don't sit around and think about how old you are."1. Begin the night before your birthday. When someone offers to take you out to dinner, pick the best place you know that you would never pay for yourself. When the waiter asks if this is a special occasion, say yes, and graciously receive free champagne, dessert, a rose,

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-42770128262075104522008-01-17T10:19:00.001-05:002008-01-17T12:27:27.359-05:00

Dear Fam Int,   Hi!  I noticed you were over here visiting me yesterday, and I thought, "hmm, why does that name sound familiar?  Ah yes!  I just quoted you!"  And so now I'm not going to type your full name, because frankly, it is really freaking me out that moments after I did that yesterday, your little eyes reached out from Chicago and zoomed in on it.   You sound like quite a prestigious

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-91459989209117113762008-01-16T10:50:00.000-05:002008-01-16T10:55:23.866-05:00

Here’s something I read regarding arguments, from David Ransburg, a therapist at the Family Institute at Northwestern University:“When we’re in a ‘flooded’ emotional state, access to the part of the brain where logical thinking resides is inhibited, and IQ drops noticeably – perhaps by as much as 15 points.”Well that’s just great. When you most want to be sharp and indisputably right is the exact

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-7513136397258927152008-01-14T10:45:00.001-05:002008-01-14T11:00:26.301-05:00

Alternative title: Some stuff you don't care about, but I've got some time to kill.   1)  "Flying Dog in Heat Wheat" beer, you are not only fun to say, but you taste good too.  yum.   2)  Spat-, Stat-?..., whatever you were, you were an even tastier beer, but because you were not named by a 13-year-old boy, I will probably never remember what you were called.  You with the mature, adult name, we

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-12813371387348391872008-01-13T12:53:00.001-05:002008-01-13T12:55:11.060-05:00

I miss you, ML.

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-52704275626775701812008-01-08T20:19:00.000-05:002008-01-10T22:54:01.065-05:00

I am a big sister.Not the kind where I sacrifice my time by volunteering to help a small, lonely child who just wants to know that somebody cares. Nah, I'm the kind where you don't have any choice, because your parents saw how wonderful their first offspring was, and knew they needed more. Next thing you know you have a little sister who loves to tell on you, even if she has to make up a story,

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-77348211284074998512008-01-03T08:45:00.001-05:002008-01-25T12:00:27.221-05:00

Do you ever have one of those mornings, when you look at your watch, and you realize that your alarm clock is somehow no longer set ahead of time like you thought, and you are going to be late for work? But maybe, just maybe, if you leave right away, you'll only be a couple of minutes late, and no one will notice, and you won't have to use 15 minutes of your vacation time because you are 5 to 10

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-1690153385959003262008-01-02T23:14:00.000-05:002008-01-03T00:03:06.820-05:00

uh, just kidding, Blay.Being a person who is all for delegation, I am letting someone else write about how they embarrass themselves. I don't know if I've formally introduced Blay, but she has been a friend since the teen years (you know, about 5 years now), and I believe I've mentioned her here before. Those of you who know her know why I call her Blay, and those of you that don't know her

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-46362408464992055872007-12-30T15:08:00.001-05:002007-12-30T15:13:46.762-05:00

I got a message on my flickr account that is so odd I thought I would share it with you, internet. The photo it is referring to is of my niece, crawling around, practicing her new trick - "kissing". I was sitting on the ground, and she had crawled past my foot, and kissed it. I took a photo of her laughing just afterwards. My foot is in the foreground. And it is not bare; in fact I am

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-74524184927574103212007-12-21T11:04:00.000-05:002007-12-30T15:06:30.917-05:00

Right now I was supposed to be out finishing my last holiday errands, but instead I am sitting at home waiting for someone to please come give us the gift of hot water. Not that I am complaining - I am actually amazed that (hopefully) someone is coming today, and that a week from now I'm not emailing (we don't get a phone number) our landlord saying, "hey, um, remember how I said that we don't

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-42056961628855767112007-12-18T15:14:00.001-05:002008-01-25T12:01:02.857-05:00

#537) My friend Katherine emailed me last week and asked when our office Christmas party was, and what it was like. She said she liked to imagine how it might be different than the average office party. I chuckled out loud, and then told her I would answer her question here. Based on previous job experience, I think most people probably associate the work holiday party with cocktail attire, a

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-6472657187622307272007-12-11T20:06:00.000-05:002007-12-11T20:48:55.921-05:00

I tend to embarrass myself quite frequently. I mean, a day without a little humiliation is hardly complete. It's quite boring, really. And today, I embarrassed myself by accidentally making my boss look at a picture of a penis. Let me go back here for a moment to my recent trip to Spain. Our second night there we took a history and tapas tour in Madrid, where an old, drunk Englishman walked

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-51566475914397125432007-12-04T16:29:00.001-05:002007-12-11T20:05:58.268-05:00

This morning at work we had a great big pot-luck breakfast.  What could possibly go wrong?  That's what you think, right?  That's what we all thought, too, but we were mistaken... you see, CheapMan was 5 minutes late!!! Where could he have gone?  Why was he walking out the door when the breakfast was about to start in a few minutes?  And he left his keys!  He never leaves his keys!  I'm really

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-85119913470830480312007-11-28T14:31:00.000-05:002007-11-28T14:55:26.505-05:00

Just moments ago I visited the restroom here at work, and, surprise surprise, who should I meet there but the Mistress of the Bathroom (she was just hanging out, by the way). We had a polite little exchange that went like this:BL: Hi. (looking me over, as always)me: Hi, how are you?BL: All right.me: (making my way to stall) Are you ready for Christmas?BL: You dating? hmm? A little bit?You see how

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-78236321461867030942007-11-26T11:46:00.000-05:002007-11-26T14:26:56.980-05:00

So, I didn't update too much during my trip, but there was so much to do and see that the internet just didn't make it high on the priority list. And now that some time has passed, it's all blurring together and no particular stories are jumping to mind to tell. I will say, however, that I had a fabulous time, and neither Mona nor I were ready to come back. If we hadn't been returning for a

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-60779047993546231572007-11-15T09:11:00.000-05:002007-11-21T10:25:11.268-05:00

We´re playing a game. It´s called, ¨Let´s keep track of how many times we do embarrassing things in front of the public that make us look like dumb Americans.¨The score is 6-0. I am winning.And how many times has Mona called attention to the dumb embarrassing things, sometimes hours later, reminding witnesses in case they forgot? Once, so far. She was just getting warmed up last night.Barcelona

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-16509868632909002592007-11-10T08:55:00.000-05:002007-11-10T09:13:23.202-05:00

If you are reading this right now, then you are one among very a very few - and those few are friends, who are probably just reading to make sure I'm not talking about them. Anyway, the point is, you probably already know that I'll be in Spain for the next ten days. I know that I'll be in Madrid Sunday and Monday, Toledo on Tuesday, and Barcelona for probably Wednesday through Friday. Friday will

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-33977623697322804922007-11-08T21:50:00.000-05:002007-11-09T15:13:01.586-05:00

Bits of conversations I've had this week:1. Walking down the hall at work, with my boss, on the way to check on some live wires in a room that flooded from the ceiling over the weekend:me: "Well, this may be the last time I'm ever seen alive. Since I'm about to be electrocuted." her (not serious): "Oh. I will do it!"me (jumping on it): "Ok!"her: laughs. Then gets quiet. Then nervous. "But.... I

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-32835392005657897492007-11-04T16:44:00.001-05:002007-11-05T16:35:32.982-05:00

At the request of Brock, here are a couple of photos of what I mentioned in the last post - my dad's Halloween house decorations.I forgot to mention another of this year's additions - a fog machine. If you look behind the middle headstone, you can see it. He was disappointed it didn't show up better in photos. There are more close-ups on flickr.Don't be jealous.

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-77319266125505924072007-11-02T15:26:00.001-04:002007-11-02T23:09:49.531-04:00

My dad loves Halloween. While I was growing up, there were two traditions that he followed for every Halloween.  One was treating himself to a new costume from his favorite shop (where they knew him by name).  The other was turning our front lawn into a graveyard.    The graveyard took some work.  He brought in bags of dirt and sculpted them into people-length mounds.  There were headstones.  A

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-31810372695538364852007-10-30T14:03:00.000-04:002007-10-30T14:08:23.228-04:00

In less than two weeks I’m embarking on an adventure with my wonderful friend, Mona. I’ve known Mona since we were 11, and I even lived with her during those first two transition years out of college, where we both moved to a big bright new city and learned what life after school was like together. These days, she lives far far away, so I don’t ever see her, and even talking to her on the phone

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-56795361731803025622007-10-25T14:29:00.000-04:002007-10-25T14:40:29.668-04:00

Last night I went to a fancy soiree where I got dressed up and drank Scotch and ate chocolates. yum. And I learned all about Scotch from a man in a kilt. I learned what makes a Scotch a Scotch, and I sampled various Scotches that made up a blend, and then the blend itself, and learned that some are nuttier, some are sweeter, some more mellow - and some are even feminine, while others are

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-4296171889127092462007-10-23T09:55:00.001-04:002007-10-24T13:40:34.257-04:00

I'm not sure if I mentioned before that my dear friend Lob has two adorable children. Since I am her favorite friend, she let me name them, and they are Oliver (2 ½) and Oscar (1/2). This past weekend Lob had the privilege (lost a bet with her husband) to accompany Oliver to a pirates and princesses themed birthday party! (So, the idea was that when the kids arrived, they were given pirate props

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-87069930153522441372007-10-19T11:34:00.000-04:002007-10-19T11:38:26.219-04:00

Driving to work this morning, I was behind a pick-up truck with the license plate "MOO JKR".  And, my initials being JKR and all, I couldn't help but wonder if this truck was calling me a cow right to my face.  And then I felt anger towards the truck. Is this normal, or am I slipping over into crazy?    

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-85627140105349477212007-10-18T00:07:00.000-04:002007-10-18T00:14:17.670-04:00

NO, Creepy Man, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!! I do not like those loud noises that are coming from upstairs! I do not like them at all!!! Stop it. Please. Just stop. It is late. It is Wednesday. I have to sleep.Good grief, where was the insulation when they built these old houses?

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-52012889739101045872007-10-17T18:34:00.000-04:002007-10-19T11:38:40.186-04:00

Before I start rambling about my apartment, I'd like to mention that I just experienced The Wedding Singer, the musical. The opening scene featured numerous people in 80's dress clothes, with 80's hair, doing synchronized 80's dance moves, and when the reject table got up and threw in some of the Thriller dance, I knew I was in for a good show. I looked for a photo to give you a visual aid, but

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4498780513113203633.post-87921655294118989942007-10-15T16:22:00.000-04:002007-10-15T16:33:26.692-04:00

Have you noticed that old people can get away with saying anything they want? I mean, I'm not going to argue with them - they're old. And they know it and take advantage of it. That's what I would do, at least.I was innocently minding my own business and playing hookie today so I could enjoy a picnic with my visiting friends Hanny and Zachary, when an old man interrupted my cookie time. We were

Jennhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01495388735499079580noreply@blogger.com0