Even though the weather is hot, life is good
Okay, let's face it. I've got a pretty good life. My mom is wonderful, my dad is funny (when not in Franzia coma), my brothers are awesome boys (though clearly still boys), my
fiancee is pretty darn groovy, and the family I'm about to be a part of freakin' rocks! (No pun intended.)
My future sister-in-law
Penny loves the baseball and goes shopping with me, my other future sister-in-law
Jen always makes you feel like she is really listening to you (even when you know you are being stupid), Dorrance plays a mean cribbage game, and DK and Cathy make me feel really special. Not in the special special way, if you know what I mean. But special in a "Wow, you aren't totally useless. In fact, quite lovely. Good job" sort of way.
But there is a problem: I'm a whiner.
It is hands down, in my humble opinion, my very worst flaw. I have several major flaws, actually. Among them are: my inability to move objects from the floor to places where they belong, like closets; my desire to analyze every little thing; my need to poke at my belly fat and say "why oh why" when my I-hate-the-gym-and-never-go ass knows perfectly well why there is that roll; and my inability to park a car without hitting a pole or a really expensive car.
But my whining is the worst by far. Because I whine and whine and rarely do anything to make the situation better. It just feels so good to whine, you know? A guilty pleasure like Cherry Garcia ice cream or playing hookey from work. I can complain and then feel magically better without investing any real effort! Amazing, yes?
So I've decided I should stop doing this. I have lovely people in my life, and if I don't like something, I should at least try to change it.
Well, we'll see how long this lasts.
God, I hate making changes in my life.
P.S. I just realized I didn't mention the Buddha!!! Okay, a picture of Her Loveliness:
Harry, I love you!
The new Harry Potter book was really quite good! I know that
Jen has already written about us freaks, but I thought I'd write a bit as well. Nothing like ground already covered, eh?
First of all, there was much less capitalization. Which is very good. Though I love Jo, I'm not sure all caps is really the best way to express anger. I think good adverbs and adjectives are muy better.
Second of all, yikes. Even though I saw it coming (we in the know, know the "it"), I could not stop the bawling. It was horrible. It was two in the morning and I sat on my couch doing the big gross sobs. You know the kind I'm talking about. Oscar-worthy heaves.
Third, it was much more concise. And after living in the tech writing world for a year, I've really come to appreciate that.
So, yeah. I'm a total freak. But I'm pretty okay with that. At least I'm not alone, eh?
I almost married Barry Zito.
For those who don't know,
Barry Zito is the most attractive baseball player. Ever. He is ginormously tall (6'4") and has the most lovely brown eyes. He plays for the Oakland A's. He won the Cy Young a few years ago, has quite the wicked curve, and looks really adorable in those tall socks. Not many boys call pull that off, you know.
And I almost married him.
You see, he went to UCSB. And as he is only two years older than I, we were there at the SAME TIME. Which clearly means I was very close to become Mrs. Barry Zito.
I even knew guys on the baseball team... for god's sake, my weightlifting coach was the baseball team's assistant coach. (I know you think I've never exercised. Not true. I used to be quite in shape. Mostly due to outside influence, however. If you didn't work out, they benched you.)
So you see, Barry Zito and I are star-crossed lovers. He is
pining for me this very minute!
In other wedding news,
Jeff and I are still trying to figure out how one goes about planning a wedding. We would much rather play video games and reread Harry Potter than think about flowers. I like flowers, don't get me wrong, but it seems like some brides really really like flowers. And shirts that say "The Future Mrs. So-and-So" (I'm not making that up. I saw them on theknot.com and also saw one on a real person).
I think the problem is that I never really thought about what my wedding would be like. Being the critical person I am, I knew what I
didn't want it to look like. No bows. No pink poofy dresses. None of the following colors: fuschia, pink, lavender. No bad food. But what I actually want? Well, gosh. I don't know. Alcohol, I guess.
Wow, alcohol was the first thing that came to mind. Apparently I'm an alcoholic. Good to know.
I guess I want simple things. Simple dress. Good food. Friends and family. But color schemes? Cakes? Decorations? I have no earthly idea. And the new Harry Potter book is coming out next week! I don't have time to plan a wedding!
Life with Jen
Jeff has been making noises about creating a blog entirely devoted to the silly things I do (his euphemism for the stupid shit I do). I've decided to beat him to the punch.
Here is an edited list of recent silly Jen events:
1. I ran into a Lexus in a parking lot. A Lexus. A gold Lexus.
2. Thirsty unto death, I ditched my shopping cart in Albertsons to go outside and purchase a water bottle. I drank all of said water bottle and returned to my cart in the store.
3. I recently decided that white wine (all white wine, not just tasty wines like Pinot Grigio and Riesling) should be consumed by the bottle.
4. I treat the cat like she is a real person. I also feed her like a real person. She really likes chicken that has been poached in chicken broth and 1 bay leaf.
5. I recently ate dog food with the CEO of the company where I work. Don't ask.
6. Okay, the wine thing isn't really recent. I had previously decided this about beer, gin, and some forms of rum.
7. Bruno, the CEO's pit bull puppy, really likes my ass. He likes to run at me from behind, jump up, bite my ass, and hump my leg. It takes me back to times I'd rather not think of.
8. The best thing about Bruno, besides the humping, is that he always does it when I'm wearing something nice.
I think that is enough for now. I'm sure there are more embarrassing events I should relate. But I've blocked them out. I think it is better this way.
Warning: Political Post
So, I'm making enchiladas and listening to the radio after work. I love making enchiladas. I make them as messy as I possibly can and I use 30.5 pounds of cheese. Anything that involves spiciness, cheese, and cheese is wonderful.
There I am. Making a huge red mess in our too-small kitchen. And I turn on the radio for background music. NPR. And I listen for a few minutes. And I remember that W. spoke today about Iraq. Let's ignore the fact that he did it from an army base. Okay, let's not ignore it. Of course you know the army is going to say "Yeah!" and clap at the appropriate sections. W. should have given the speech from San Francisco or New York or Iraq. C'mon. Give the speech from Iraq. Then maybe I'll really listen.
So most of my life I've been fairly conservative. I like less government (so far as I can tell, the government usually cocks things up at a huge price). And I think we should kick ass. Just as a general rule. Big stick and all. And I'm not ashamed to admit that when we first began the whole destructor Afghanistan thing, I was pretty supportive. The Taliban weren't really nice guys. And if we invaded Saudi Arabia tomorrow, I might even back that, given their record towards women (oh yeah, and because the Tyrant is from there).
And even when we went into Iraq, I was pretty supportive. Because I believed Colin Powell. And Saddam did kill all those Kurds, and dissidents, and generally did BAD stuff. (Please keep in mind I'm not a great political analyst. I'm just saying what I felt at the time.) And of course I think genocide is wrong, and we should have intervened earlier and with more troops in places like Rwanda and Bosnia. So, Iraq, okay.
But as the years (G-D, years) progressed and no WMDs were found and no real progress was made and our leaders kept repeating inane comments, I became deeply worried. It didn't seem like we had very good plans. And it seemed like too many people were dying. And not really achieving much in the end.
So basically, I stopped supporting the war. At least in my head.
And some folks seem shocked by this. Or angered. My parents think I have turned to the Dark Side (liberalism). Folks who always thought the war was a bad idea seem either surprised that I changed my mind or seem angry that it took me so long.
It seems to me that people don't like when other people think. They just want you to agree. And if you change your mind, you're a turncoat. Or a latecomer to a party where everyone already has a girlfriend. And they are way hotter than you are.
And I don't think it is traitorous to acknowledge that things are not going well. That we aren't helping. I'm not even sure I dislike the military action. It's how we did it. With such arrogance and so little thought.
Jeff doesn't watch the news anymore. I think he is going to spend the next three years pretending the outside world doesn't exist. That may be the way to go. But days like today remind me making enchiladas is actually a very wonderful, great thing.
Blog Jen
Okay, so I love Jeff. Really I do. I understand that the English language is in constant flux. Really I do. And perhaps "internets" might be lower case,considering the source. But c'mon. I am NOT crazy.
Jeff has decided that he has an alter ego, Dream Jeff, who is a total jerk that does jerky things. Apparently I have an alter ego, Blog Jen, who is a total Grammar Nazi and beats people in her sleep.
And if Dream Jeff is fake, so is Blog Jen.
Okay? Are we clear here? Blog Jen is fake.
I do not scream in the middle of the night about capitalization. And just because I happen to cite the OED does not make me an evil citing monster. I know my OED, okay? Nothing to get excited about.
Enough said.
What do you call a woman with one leg?
I-lean.
That just kills me.
I Watch Too Much TV
Yesterday I spent a solid three hours watching the WE channel. Yep, Bridezilla marathon. Had to watch it. Simply had to. And it made me wonder: will I be Bridezilla? Granted, these women do seem a bit off-balance from the beginning ("It's my day!" "I'm the princess" "I said 'magenta' not 'red'"). So far the only item that has caught my attention is my mom's obsessive desire to put bows on everything. If I don't watch her closely I'll end up getting married in 1983.
I like to think I'm normal. But who knows? Marriage does odd things to people. When I told my pseudo-boss that I was engaged she almost cried. She went through a divorce about ten years ago and lost faith in marriage. Which frankly makes a great deal of sense to me. I've never been the "move on" sort of person. I love Jeff, but I think I hate men.
In more upbeat wedding-related news, I'm planning a weekend o' fun with my mom, Jeff's mom and sisters, and my maid of honor. Keep in mind that for me planning involves very little planning. Mostly I just think about what fun it will be and that I should call people. Then I think of excuses such as my mom's work schedule (she works a lot of weekends) and how much laundry I need to do. And then I neither call my mother about her work schedule nor do laundry. I watch three hours of Bridezilla madness. Because that is the most efficient use of my time.
