The perfect shell

Well. We just booked the Martha's Vineyard house that we've been going to for the past five summers, so I am quite excited. I think my best memories come from this one week we spend every summer in the Vineyard. This is where stuff like this happens:

Now, the last summer that we went, we hung out with our family friends a lot. One day, I found this perfect shell on the beach that was by the house. I was so proud of it because it had no cracks or chips or shit on it. It was the perfect shape, perfect size, perfect condition. So I found it and I said "Oh boy, you're coming home with ME!" and I cradled it back to the house. After a perfect day together (me and the shell), I went out for a bit with my sisters and our friends. And our parents went out with their friends. And then we all met back at the house later that night.

Everyone was gathered in the living room, and my parent's friends were talking about shells, which I thought was the perfect opportunity to brag about my new find. I said, "I found a perfect shell! There is nothing wrong with it! No scratches or marks or ANYTHING!" and right at that moment, my dad puts his feet up on the coffee table and everybody hears a very loud crunch. The room went silent and then my dad's friend said, "WAS THAT THE PERFECT SHELL?!" To which my dad actually raises his feet to reveal the roadkill that was my shell.

Then, the whole room ERUPTED in laughter. I however, did not think it was so funny. But I shouldn't be surprised; this is the man that used to step on all of our toys by "accident" when we were little. Like really dad, look where you're going. Or at least apologize without laughing.

So the next morning, my dad came back from his morning walk with a handful of mediocre shells, (they were NOTHING like the one I had) and simply said, "I found these for you..." with a sad look on his face, so I had to forgive him.

This is the same summer that we were all walking around by the lighthouse where we realized my dad was missing. Being a small place as it is, we didn't know where he could have possibly gone. After a while of looking, we heard a "HEY!" from behind us. Upon turning around, we see my dad in the balcony of a house across the street that was being built. When we asked him how the hell he got in, he replied with, "I went in the back door, it was open. You guys gotta check it out up here!" which, we didnt, because I'm pretty sure you aren't supposed to do that. But these are things that my dad does. And he does all of these things with a unidentified cup in his hand, which of course, holds rum with a splash of diet coke. That's a side note: never drink a rum and coke made by my dad. Because there is half rum with a little bit of diet coke.

I'm watching the Oscars, and if Natalie Portman doesn't win for Black Swan, shit's going DOWN. If stupid Inception and stupid True Grit and stupid Social Network would just get the HELL out of the way for movies that were actually GOOD and worth seeing and didn't make me want the last two hours of my LIFE back, I'd feel better.

Inception="this is a dream inside of a dream inside of a dream. We're going to do three levels of the dream, then we're going to drive this van off a bridge and it's going to take up half the movie."

True Grit="I'm gonna ride this here horse over them there mountains. You're gonna shoot me and it's gonna make me do a backflip off my gahd damn horse!"

Social Network="Oh hey I had this really good idea and I went with it and then it worked and then Justin Timberlake turned me into a selfish bastard that made me lose all my friends, but it's okay, I can just buy some new ones."

I mean, come on, these movies are not good. Black Swan at least HAD something TO it. Freaking loved that movie. Like a fat kid loves twinkies.

In other news, my sister slapped me in the bum today, and told me that I had a "cute butt jiggle". Which isn't a compliment at all.

ALL RIGHT. I'm out like a boner in sweatpants.

-Jenny

Books and movies. Just stop.

Okay so.

If you didn't know already, the differences between books and movies make me more mad then grammar and spelling errors. Which is a lot.

So I've realized that when I read a book before watching the movie adaptation of it, I'm furious at the movie. But if I watch a movie before reading the book, I'm furious at the book. Which is ridiculous, because the book obviously came first. But I become attached to a book and then the movie ruins it. And at other times I become attached to a movie, THEN I decide to read the book, and then the book ruins the movie. Because they are so different from each other, which I am never okay with.

My main argument is of course, the Twilight Saga. (shutUP). I think all of the actors and actresses are very fitting to the characters in the book. But it is not okay to completely MAKE UP scenes while you are shooting a movie. Like ummm hello, they did NOT go on a field trip to a greenhouse in the book. Just sayin.

And also, when the movie completely IGNORES an important part of the book! GAH! All I know is that if you are watching the movie and it feels like a completely different story to you than the book, it's obviously a bad adaptation. These are the main ones I have a serious problem with:

1) Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, (and probably Breaking Dawn, even though it has yet to come out. I just know it will piss me off. They'll continue to make up scenes and leave out things that should be in the movie.)
2) Charlie St. Cloud. (really, Charlie and his brother were a completely different age, and the way they died was different. These are important aspects to the book, and I feel like they should be paid attention to while writing the movie script. However, this is one of the books that I read AFTER seeing the movie. Which means I already fell in love with the movie, ((and Zac Efron, but don't tell anybody.)) But when I'm reading the book and the first paragraph points out a handful of differences from the movie, I'm instantly outraged.)
3) The Lovely Bones. (the movie was nicely done, but it was like they'd never heard of the book. I mean, yeah this guy raped and murdered this girl, but if I were to make a movie adaptation, I would have something terribly terrible happen to him. Like getting SARS. Or falling INTO the landfill that he put the girl in. Or getting poison ivy. Or splinters in his fingers. Yeah, SPLINTERS. That shit HURTS.)

and finally 4) Girl, Interrupted. (Fairly close, but the fact that the movie included Winona Ryder and Angelina Jolie in the scene where Brittany Murphy killed herself (I'm not trying to be a dick here, she really hung herself in the movie). In the book, they were nowhere near her when it happened. In the movie it was like "hey we're gonna crash at your place! but we're gonna be really mean to you first! you'll probably wanna kill yourself in the morning!" (That's Angelina Jolie, she was very selfish in this movie.) And then the next morning they're all like "oh hey, where's brittany murphy?" "Yeah I don't know, who cares?" And then Winona Ryder walks upstairs to find Brittany Murphy hanging from her ceiling, and it's a very traumatic experience for her. But THEN in the BOOK, it's like "oh hey we found out that she's dead. We were upset a little bit." It's just the little things like this that piss me off.)


But ANYWAY! Enough about that. He is a funny picture of me and Schroeder.

Don't ask what we are doing, because like most pictures of us, I have no freaking clue.

And here is an inappropriate pictures of Gumby and Pokey.

Who would have thought that Pokey liked the taste of Spearmint? (That's what I think Gumby secretly tastes like. Spearmint gum. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that he looks like a giant stick of spearmint gum.)

Also, Gumby is REALLY flexible!!! Look at that guy! He must do yoga a million times a day! Either that or he has no spine. Maybe he has no spine. Like Spongebob.

Goodnight! (Good Morning!)

-Jenny

Dogs and peanut butter.

It's weird how people sometimes have no shame with their writing. I never understood how people wrote certain things without getting embarrassed. Even in my poetry and fiction writing workshops, some things that the other kids would write about would shock me.

Take Chelsea Handler for example. She is obviously one of my idols, but I cannot believe what she writes about in her books. Even though no book whatsoever has ACTUALLY made me laugh out loud like hers do, I really do admire her "no shame" attitude. I mean, whoever can write a whole book about how many one night stands she has (in full detail) for the world to read is okay with me.

I guess I'll always just be a quiet, naive, innocent little mouse in the corner. This shouldn't be news to anyone.

But anyway. Playing any kind of game with my best friend (Schroeder) is always a blast. Any kind of game that requires you to NOT show anybody what you have, we have to show each other, which defeats the entire purpose. When we play UNO, we used to sit next to each other and show our cards to one another. Then we'd start singing the contents of our hand to the entire table in the style of the song "8-6-7-5-3-0-9." It would go something like this: "eight-four-two skips-and-a-reverse."

So we play this game called "THINGS" and it's always interesting. Somebody picks a card and it will say something like "things you shouldn't do when you're naked." and everybody will have to write something funny. So, the card that was drawn was "things that are harder than they look."

And Schroeder decides to write "trying to get a dog to lick the peanut butter wherever I put it on my body." Which of course makes the entire room erupt into laughter. I don't know where he comes up with these things, I really don't.

I watched a part of "Skins" and there were about four or five boys in the woods and they were complaining about how they can't get high in any way on this school camping trip. Obviously, this is the worst possible thing that could ever happen to these kids. "You mean we can't get HIGH for TWO DAYS?!" These kids basically have nothing else to live for, so if you take away their weed/drugs/booze, they will probably just shrivel up and die. So anyway, they happen to find a rather large frog and what do they do??? They start to LICK the frog, because apparently that can get you high. I actually laughed out loud at their stupidity, and then it got even better! (or worse, for that matter.) One of the boys grab the frog from the other one and he pretty much put him in his place by saying "you're doing it completely wrong," and proceeds to basically french kiss/stick the frog halfway down his throat. I mean, you probably shouldn't be proud of the fact that out of everyone that's in your group, YOU'RE the one that knows how to mouth-rape a FROG the CORRECT way. It's like, "nah guys, check out how cool I am. I'll show you how to french a frog! Now watch carefully cause I'm only gonna do this once--oh who am I kidding? I do this all the time."

So what happens when they're done? Turns out, they DON'T get high. Turns out, they're all idiots. They all start throwing up. I mean, who would have thought that licking a dirty ass frog would make you ill? THIS IS AN ABOMINATION!

Anyway.

The new issue of Rolling Stone magazine has a picture of Justin Bieber on the cover. When it came in the mail, I grimaced upon seeing his ugly, 12 year old face. And his stupid freaking hair, which he decided to "mess up" like he just got out of bed. (This is before he cut it). So when the power went out this morning, I said to myself, "you should read this, Jen. Because then, you would know more about him so you can hate him for a REASON, instead of just hating him for NO reason." So I read all of it, and most of the time, when I read something about someone I don't like, it changes my mind about them. With Justin, it just made me hate him even more.

Everything that he said in this interview was just completely ridiculous. He was just talking about how cool he thinks he is and how everybody loves him. AND the person who was interviewing him kept saying how adorable he is. ADORABLE?! I want to punch this kid in his stupid little face. Then I'd be all like "Baby, baby, baby...OWNED!" Or I'd just kick him in the crotch, and he probably wouldn't react at all because there is nothing there.

Heh. Goodnight.

-Jenny

"You are teaching the YOUTH of AMERICA!"

Before I get started, I would like to add a new fact regarding the Shaw's note that was posted in the breakroom. I thought it had said "your self's", which is awful as it is. But yesterday, when I looked closer, it actually says "you're self's". Dear LORD.

"please clean up after you are self's."

I wish people paid attention in school. While we are on the subject of school, I went to my sister's school (that she teaches at) today to help out with some rearrangements in her classroom. She'd probably get mad if I said "help", because all I did was sit around drawing pictures on the whiteboard and making fun of her. And when I wasn't making fun of her, I was making fun of the first graders. Because looking at their work makes me laugh. Because, well, let's be honest. First graders don't know anything. First graders are equivalent to Shaw's employees.

ANYWAY. I picked up this booklet and started reading. This is what the cover says:

"How to mack a snowman." Upon reading this, I actually thought a first grader was about to tell me, via instruction manual, how to make out with a snowman. To which I was only partially interested in. Once I figured that he meant "how to MAKE a snowman", I couldn't help but continue reading. As the instruction manual went on, the boy says that step one is to roll a small snowball. Step two is to roll a medium snowball. Step three is to roll a small snowball. Then he writes, "The End."

So, of course, after I nearly peed myself, I gathered myself and realized that this must be one retarded snowman. Small, medium, small. If somebody actually made a snowman using this method, it would be like the leaning tower of snowmen.

The one thing I did help with was moving my sister's teacher's desk out of her room. Like, completely out. I thought teacher's having desks was normal, but I guess I was dead wrong. She'd rather sit at a desk that is about three inches off the ground. But hey, I am not here to judge. (haha.)

So we pick this desk up and with great difficulty, move it out of the classroom. But of course not before we crash it into the door and leave a dent. Then, I start to get bored. So at this point, I'm just wandering about the room and I open this large closet. This is either where Sally takes her naps when the kids are at recess, or judging by the nametags and hooks, it is where the kids hang their jackets and backpacks. (Let's HOPE. This isn't a Rob Zombie film.) So this closet is completely empty and I call over to my 8 year old cousin (who was there helping as well, although she was helping a HELL of a lot more than I was) and I tell her that she could probably fit in there. She replied with a "yeah I probably could!" and then I, of course, say "wanna give it a shot?"

And it's true. She fit in there. So I figured now would be a good time to call over to my sister Sally and say "you know what? you could probably fit in here too!" Then she just laughed. Then I replied with:

"Wanna give it a shot?"

She ignored me.

So later on, when we all got home, my cousin and Sally were playing "hangman." Kind of a sad game, thinking of that poor stick figure. I can just see him now, as random limbs are added to him due to a stupid letter guess. He'd probably shout something like, "GUESS SOME GODDAMN VOWELS OR SOMETHING!" But anyway, my little cousin says that the word is FIVE letters long and it is a place. And my sister yells out, "BOSTON!"

Of course I laugh and make fun of her. But as the game goes on, it is discovered that there are two O's in a row. So I shout out, "ROOM!"

So it's obvious that both me and my sister are dumb as rocks.

And if anybody was curious as of to what the place was...it was "school". My cousin forgot a letter.

I feel like I make fun of Sally too much, so I will say a little something about Lucy. I think anybody who's anybody knows that she is a Godawful driver. The thing is, she doesn't exactly slow down when she takes turns. My best friend and I used to get a kick out of this. He would say something like, "JESUS, this isn't NASCAR." I'm not sure if she just doesn't know what brakes are, or if she likes to pretend she's Jeff Gordon.

Okay, she definitely thinks she's Jeff Gordon.



-Jenny

Animal crackers.

As a follow up to what I previously discussed about people not knowing how to read or spell, I should have known Shaw's Carver would be the root of it. I've known for a while that 97.5% of Shaw's employees are juvenile delinquents. This is not news to me. But I have to see EVERYWHERE these complete idiots in action. For example, the grocery crew that I work with are all boys. This doesn't really phase me all that much, but it just means that I have to listen to what boys talk about with each other. How many girls they've slept with, how this one is still a virgin, how that one has 4 girlfriends (one of which is a bisexual who is dating a girl at the same time), how many times they masturbate, etc. Just recently I've actually found out how immature these boys really are.

I have the misfortune of sitting with these boys while they actually eat. It's almost like being at the zoo. When they're not completely stuffing their faces with food, they are THROWING food at each other. I, of course, am right in the middle. Now, I have never been hit with food (which is actually something to be very proud of). But the fact that these children are throwing food and chasing each other around the breakroom, and THEN tipping chairs over, is something that is quickly getting to me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I don't like my job. I'm saying I hate my job.

Tonight I'm upstairs getting my stuff to go home and I see this typed sign on one of the tables. It went something like this:

"Blah blah blah blah blah, blah blah blah, please clean up after your self's."

SIGH. Now, I definitely appreciate the note for reasons stated above. HOWEVER, whoever typed this note is clearly illiterate. "self's"? REALLY?! The sad thing is, the person who typed this note was probably someone from management. Which means they are old. Spelling and grammar errors piss me off like there's no tomorrow. Just seeing this note makes me realize that I simply cannot be surrounding myself with this poisonous environment. Sooner or later, I too will be using the word "holded" instead of "held", because, yes, that is what one of my retarded co workers had said during a story. He is twenty years old.

But ANYWAY. I was at the Christmas Tree Shop with my sister Sally this morning. Normally, I stay away from these stores as much as I can because A) there are so many old people, and B) everything you buy will more or less BREAK ten minutes later. So when we meet up after we "shop", (I put this in quotes because I didn't shop but simply roamed around like a zombie, trying to dodge old grannies with a very serious mission to love a bargain) I find that Sally has a very interesting basket of things. The one thing I will point out is the fact that my 25 year old sister has a big jar of animal crackers. The jar, of course, is shaped like a giant bear.

On the ride home she asks me to "bust out those animal crackers" which I do. I decide to have a few as well, and it is here that I realize that all of these animals are MUTANT animals. They all look the same, like animals that were dipped in acid. Or had a stoke. Or it is possible that they were all replicas of Eeyore from Winnie the Pooh. So of course, I decide to hold up one of the animals and yell: "WHAT the HELL is this!?"

To which of course she responds with: "I don't know! Is there a list of animals on the back of the box?"

I have many problems with this statement. Although it's extremely funny, this isn't a bag of Skittles. Or a mood ring. There is no "list" as of to what these freak animals are. Maybe it's because the makers of these animal crackers had NO idea what the hell the animals were supposed to be. The only one I actually understood was the camel. And let me tell you, it was definitely a sad camel.

SONG TIME! It is "If You Ever Come Back" by The Script. I can't tell if it's a happy song or a sad song.

-Jenny

You can't make brownies without drinking wine.

Well I have to do this quick because in all honesty, I am going to watch "skins" at ten. Don't judge me. It's better than watching the stupid Bachelor (ette). "Oh I'm worried because he might not get along with my daughter." Well lady, you are twenty four years old and your daughter is like...six. TEEN PREGNANCY MUCH? MAYBE if you didn't have a kid when you were in HIGH SCHOOL, your pool of men to choose from would be a little bigger, because their first thought wouldn't be "HOLY SHIT you have a goddamn KID!" and probably run away without looking back. Or at least walk away in a fast manner.

And why would you want to be with a man who is kissing/making out with/having sex with/playing doctor with/wrestling with/sticking his tongue in other women's mouths?! The whole thing is shady to me, but like I stated before, I don't understand many things.

Just like I don't understand why some Borders are going out of business. You know why?! I have come to the conclusion that everybody is freaking stupid. Nobody reads anymore. It makes me so mad. Instead of sitting down and reading a good book, what are you doing? You're going out to bars and getting blackout drunk, you're watching TV all day on the couch eating potato chips, and you're playing endless hours of World of Warcraft, or whatever the HELL you play on the computer. Why don't you forget about watching endless hours of the Jersey Shore, go out and buy a BOOK? (it's okay for me to watch the Jersey Shore, because I read as well. I don't make the rules, I just follow them.)

Maybe if people read more books, they would actually know how to spell. And read. In one of my classes last semester there was this girl who was reading a paragraph of a story out loud and she didn't know how to read the word "rendezvous". We are in college, people. COLLEGE. For some odd reason, I almost shouted at this girl when she butchered this word, trying to sound it out. I feel retarded, being in the same classroom as these people.

There are certain people who don't know how to read well, but I can't really say anything. Because although I know how to read, I have also dropped boogers on my best friend when I was on the top bunk of a bunk bed. He didn't know why I was giggling, and when I finally told him, he stood up and punched me on the leg. But this is nothing new. Because this is the same kid that pulled his pants down and farted on my pillow.

Now, I'm aware that only having a blow up mattress to sleep on is probably not the most comfortable thing in the world. I get that. But apparently people are very anal about their blow up mattresses. This is what I've learned so far:

1) If you ACCIDENTALLY step on the mattress, you get a TV remote hurled at you.
2) If you PURPOSELY step on the mattress, you get shoved to the ground.
and finally...
3) If you decide to step on the mattress and then start DANCING on it while laughing in his face, you get a bare assed fart right on your pillow.


This is the same kid that did this when I asked him for a "girls gone wild" pose.

Incidentally, the mattress eventually deflated for one reason or another. He says I broke it when I danced on it.

I say he broke it with his fat ass.

It remains a mystery. Just...like...Inception.

Anywhores, it is time for "skins". However, I want to make it clear that I am only watching it because I am concerned about these young children that are on this show. I try and talk them out of bad decisions. I yell at the TV and I tell them, "you BETTER not! You will NOT take that handful of PILLS!" and then she takes the handful of pills. And then I tell her to pack her things and get the hell out of my house. Then I realize it's a made up TV show and this girl does not live in my house.


-Jenny

You can't fix a dent that big.

I've noticed lately that I like to read books that I've already read. I wonder why. I already know what's going to happen...so why read it again? There are no surprises. Instead of reading a new book, I choose a book I've already read. I know other people do this as well, so it's not like I'm the only one. I just wonder why we do it. Maybe it's a comfort thing. I guess it's the same as movies. I watch the same movies over and over again.

Speaking of movies, I cannot wait for Black Swan to come out on DVD. I know that it will be a while, seeing as how it just left theaters, but I can't wait to actually own it. Even though this was easily the weirdest movie I've ever seen in my twenty two years of living, I feel like that just makes me like it more. Yeah, Natalie Portman masturbates a couple times (which is wayyyyyy awkward to watch), and yeah, there's a handful of lesbian scenes (which is wayyyyy awkward to watch). Natalie Portman's character is just so sad to watch, because she is so goddamn weird. She lets everyone do just about anything they want to her, and she hardly ever protests. She lets her mother run her life because she is a controlling maniac. She lets her director put his hands all over her because well, he is just a horndog apparently. AND... she let's people drug her.

I feel like somebody should tell poor Natalie Portman that when you actually SEE somebody put something in your drink, um...don't drink it? People all over the place are getting shit put in their drinks, but here Natalie is, actually seeing somebody put something in her drink, and she's like "heyyyyy that looks good! I wonder why it's all fizzy though? OH maybe it's a wine spritzer!" No...no it's not, Natalie. If you wanted the drugs, just take them yourself.

I love it when people pretend like things aren't their fault. Such as when my father backed up into my car in the driveway. Let me break this down: my father's car=big jeep wrangler. my car=little volvo station wagon.

So he leaves for work early in the morning and walks out to the garage. To walk to the garage, he has to pass my car, which is just sitting there, harming no one, minding it's own business. Then, he gets in his jeep and throws it in reverse, not even thinking to actually look in any mirror. Smashes into my poor car, leaves a huge dent.

Now, I get that shit like this happens. However, I have a huge problem when somebody sees that my car is there, and then doesn't bother to look in any of the three mirrors that allow you to actually see behind you. And judging by the size of the dent, he was definitely going seventy miles an hour. That's just an estimation though.

Okay, okay. So you make a mistake, that's fine. But the fact that he blamed ME for parking there is just preposterous. You having NO damage on your precious jeep and me having my back door completely smashed in is completely preposterous. You know what dad? The fact that you have no idea what a goddamn review mirror is, is simply not my problem. MAYBE he was in a rush to kill another cat.

This is not the best part of the story. That comes next.

Yes, my father decides to try one of those "fix it yourself" thingy majigs that allow you to pull out dents. What my dad DOESN'T understand is that these things are for small dents. Which this was not. This dent is the size of my freaking door. That's big, by the way. A door is big.

I just can't explain the things that my family does. Like every Sunday my sister Sally comes home and it looks like she has never heard of a hairbrush. Or the fact that my other sister, Lucy, actually shines her boyfriend's shoes as he watches. Or the fact that my mother watches the "Jersey Shore" every single time it's on...but doesn't shutup about how stupid it is. Or like how my boyfriend Linus won't watch Paranormal Activity with me because he thinks his house is haunted. I tried to tell him that the movie wasn't about GHOSTS, it was about DEMONS. Which, to no surprise, did not make him feel better or change his mind.

I'm sorry, I just don't see the horror in a door closing by itself. I mean, if it happened to me, I would shit  my pants. No lie. And after that, I'd probably die of a panic attack. But watching it in a movie...not so bad. Would I ever watch Paranormal Activity by myself? No. Would I ever watch it at night? No. I just can't do scary movies at night. With the exception of watching Pet Cemetery at three in the morning with my best friend Schroeder. But there was beer involved beforehand, (like always), so clearly, it wasn't thought through. But that movie wasn't even SCARY. But I have seen both Paranormal Activity movies and I was not extremely phased by them.

The scariest movie to this day to me will always be Fern Gully.

Seriously. Hate that movie.

Seriously. This one scared the shit out of me too.

The funny thing is, I watched these movies as a child. And of course, they were creepy as hell. But if I watched them now as somewhat of an adult, I would probably still be frightened. Maybe even more than I was as a child. The movies they make for children are just so scary. The Little Mermaid...Ursula anyone? The Lion King...the hyenas? 101 Dalmations...Cruella?! Honestly! Disney movies are scary!!! And they are also made by drug addicts. Honestly, are you really making a movie about a TOASTER and other household appliances going on a journey? A talking TOASTER that can walk and talk. My toaster just burns BAGELS! Dear Lord! Who approves your ideas?! Come on vacuum, come on heated blanket, come on lamp, let's go on an adventure!

ANYWAY.

I'm glad we are actually going out to breakfast as a family tomorrow morning. Because honestly, people in this crazy house think it's okay to eat cupcakes and leftover pizza for breakfast. And it's not even like a  "I woke up late, it's eleven o' clock" breakfast. It's like a real breakfast time, ranging from hours 8-10. People in this house do not know that this is not normal. I just hope they don't ask the waitress for cold pizza when we go to breakfast. I will bring a hat and sunglasses just in case they do.

Song of the day: "Close to Me" by The Get Up Kids. It's a remake of the Cure song, but it is a very interesting version.

-Jenny

Do you know where you're going?

So today I was following my sister Sally back to her boyfriend's apartment (he wasn't there), to hang out after we had lunch. She goes there every week and it's not hard to get to, though I've only been there a few times. Anyway, I'm following her and I sort of remember that once we get to a certain place, I know where I'm going. However, as I'm following Sally's Toyota Corolla, I notice that she drives right by the road I thought it was on. Thinking that I was just crazy, I continue to follow her, because she should know where it is more than I should. We drive an extra five minutes and she turns around. When we finally get there, she says that she "doesn't know what happened" and "she must have been daydreaming", but in all honesty, I have no idea how she could not find her way to a place she has been going for a very long time. I feel like it would only be okay if she was having some sort of seizure. Or she saw a unicorn frolicking in the fields. Or if she saw Robert Pattinson riding on a unicorn frolicking i the fields. But none of these things happened. She just had no idea where the Hell she was.

She blamed it on the two glasses of wine she had with dinner, which I would agree with, seeing as how she weighs about ninety pounds, but I'm still suspicious.

Last night I was discussing Martha's Vineyard with my boyfriend Linus. I've named him Linus only because he refuses to watch Paranormal Activity with me, which makes me think of him carrying a blanket everywhere because he is a bit of a sissy. ANYWAY. I was talking about interesting stories that happened in the past six (?) years that we have been vacationing there. There have been a lot of crazy stories (some including underage root beer buying, searching for my drunk sister who went off with a sailor, dealing with my mother crying at midnight on her fiftieth birthday, having captain crunch and coronas for dinner every night). The list goes on and on. However, it did make me realize how much I've missed going there this past summer. I would have to say these were the highlights, and I am not sensoring them at all.

You can see who the goofsters are in this picture.

Honestly, have they met us?

I have also never heard of sunscreen apparently.


I guess the favorite story of summers at the Martha's Vineyard house has been the root beer story. Now, I'm aware that people that work in the summer at the Vineyard don't always speak English, or if they do, they don't speak it WELL. However, if you are working at a corner market, you should know your shit. Just sayin.

This was the summer I was nineteen or twenty, I'm not sure. Either way, I was underage. Right down the street from our house is a corner market, which pretty much sells everything. So one day, all by my lonesome, I go and decide to SPLURGE on some glass bottle root beers and cream sodas.

I mean, how could you not? Any drink that comes in a glass bottle is automatically cool. Yoo Hoo's anyone?!

ANYWAY. I'm so excited to buy these sodas that I'm actually envisioning myself once I get back to the house. I'll go and put my feet up on the back deck and look out at the harbor, and I'll take a sip and say something like: "Ahh. Yum. And to think, I could have had a bland, old Diet Pepsi! In...a...CAN!" So I bring my glass sodas up to the counter and the woman that was working was obviously not from around here, although I'm not one to judge. (haha.)

So she asks me if these are non alcoholic. I giggle a little bit, thinking she's kidding, and then I say "yes." Because anybody who is anybody knows that a bottle that says "Diet Root Beer" is in fact non alcoholic. Some would even call it "soda". But let's not get too crazy.

She then asks for my license, which I pull out but right before I give it to her, I sense something is wrong. 1) why in hell's name am I giving you my license? and 2) when you see my license, it will in fact tell you I'm underage. And I know this. But what does it matter? I am buying root beer.

I then feel like it's time to break the awful news to this woman that I am not trying to buy beer. I am just an innocent little girl trying to have a good time with some soda. What does she say?

"You still have to be twenty-one to buy non alcoholic beer."

Alright. So. After numerous failed attempts to tell this poor retarded retard that "this. is. SODA." She points to the word "beer" on the bottle. I do not know what to do. I eventually let it go, as I am not one for confrontation. And for the fact that there are customers behind me and I am quite embarrassed.

To make a long story short, I could not buy soda that day at the Vineyard. Now THAT'S when you know you look YOUNG! But in all seriousness, they should consider hiring people who did not come to this country on a floating door. I not seen this woman in the store since then, but if I did, I would take a real bottle of beer (because I CAN now) and I would point to the word "beer" and chug it in her face. Then I would tell her to "learn some goddamn english". Or something along those lines.

Anyway.

-Jenny.

Coloring books aren't just for kids.

So I know that watching Jersey Shore is definitely not something to be proud of. I hate telling people that I actually watch it every thursday night. But tonight's episode made me laugh out loud on so many different occasions. There was this one part where Deena (the short plumpy one) was complaining about how she was constipated. She was telling this to Snooki, who for the record, is also short and plump. I like using the word plump. Normally I have a problem with how completely RETARDED Snooki is and how I still cannot believe that she actually put together several sentences between doing shots at a bar and put them in an actual book. ACTUAL writers are going crazy trying to get published, and all Snooki has to say is "MAH" in a troll voice and fall over on the beach at midday and roll around because she forgot how her stubby legs worked. Congratulations! You are now an author apparently.

ANYWAY. The resolution that Snooki gives Deena about being constipated is this: "Just drink coffee. It will just fall out of your butthole like a fricken rainstorm."

Most people see Snooki as a disgrace, and I am one of them. However, the things that come out of her mouth are shockingly funny.

I was in my room earlier tonight and my sister Lucy poked her head in and saw my crayons scattered on the floor and this is how our conversation went:

Lucy: "...Are you coloring?"
Me: "Yes."
Lucy: "And you're coloring in an actual coloring book?"
Me: "Yes."
Lucy: "A Star Wars coloring book?"
Me: "Yes."

And then she walked out. I was coloring in a picture of General Grevious, which I think makes it okay. If I was coloring a picture of a dumb character like Jango Fett, I would actually welcome being made fun of.

Just for the record, when I started this post, I spelled the word "occasion" three times with a "t" in it. It took me THREE times to try and change it, because "for some reason, the word 'occastion' just doesn't look right." For the record, I just graduated with an English degree. Just sayin.

You know, I think if this pumpkin could talk, he would call everybody a "crecker". He would also have an old man laugh and always ask where his cigarettes are. 

These pictures were taken a year apart from each other. Apparently all my "jack o lanterns" look the same. Slightly retarded with a side of drug addiction. Although this one's a lot happier than the first. 

By the way, never play "farties" with my sister Sally. When she farts...all the plants around us die. 

-Jenny

Turns out, there are some things that bubble baths can't fix.

So I get out of work early, and I take the long way home because I have an awesome new CD to listen to, and it's perfect for night driving. I take this tiny little road that basically no one knows about, and part of the road goes through a lake. Or a pond. Or a bog. I don't know, we'll call it a goddamn road going through some goddamn water. The shocking thing is...is that this beautiful road is in Carver. Who would have thought that a shitbum town like Carver would have something beautiful in it? The only thing I've gathered from Carver is that you should never go to their 24 hour cumberland farms at 2 in the morning...no matter what the emergency is. But I'll talk about that later.

So I'm driving along and the moon is shining on the water, and what do I see?! Three or four swans just floating by. It was so beautiful the way that the light from the moon was shining on these white swans. It was so pretty that I stopped my car in the middle of the road to gaze upon them.

Now, as stated above, we are in Carver. A tiny little shitty town that no one really gives a rat's ass about. Plus, everybody that lives in Carver would pretty much be at the only restaurant they have, Cornerstones, getting schmammered and talking to the person next to them as if they were in a train station. Which of course, they are not. ANYWAY, I figure it's no problem if I stop for a SECOND to smile at the swans. But of COURSE, someone has to drive up behind me like they are in the Daytona 500 or whatever the HELL you call it. So they ruined my moment with the swans and now all I can do is come home and listen to a song ABOUT swans.

Anyway, while we are on the subject of shitty Carver, there are so many things I have learned while living in the part of Middleboro that happens to be the unfortunate neighbor to Carver.

1) Everybody wears pajamas in public. I hated kids in college that did this, nevermind grown men that go out in public wearing their pjs. Every day I go out, I can count on both my hands and both my feet (that makes twenty two) the number of grown ups I see in their pajamas.
2) My insulin pump battery ran out at two in the morning, and I didn't have any batteries at the house. The pump needs lithium batteries so I grab my Volvo and say "wow! thank God the Cumbies five minutes down the road is open 24 hours!" and off I went. Upon arriving I can't find the batteries anywhere, so I ask the man behind the counter where his batteries are. They were behind the counter, so he can have them all to himself! (Battery Nazi!) Let me just point out, Carver is a scary place at two in the morning. Luckily, there was only one other man in the store besides me. However, to great disappointment, he was a creepazoid. All I did was ask the Cumbie's clerk if he had any lithium batteries, and he said no. Just regular alkaline batteries. The creepy man waiting behind me had brought it on himself to explain to me that lithium and alkaline were the same; lithium just lasted longer. THEN he giggles to himself and says to me: "I don't wanna know what you need LONG LASTING batteries for!!!" Great. This creepy man thinks I am running out to Cumbies at two in the morning grabbing some lithium batteries for my vibrator. I didn't have the guts to tell him the batteries were for the solo purpose of keeping me alive for the next few years, so I bought the stupid alkaline batteries and left. And I never looked back. (I actually go to this Cumbie's all the time, just not when night falls. Because that's when the pervs come out.)

But anyway, enough about that.

My aunt was telling us about a game that my little cousin plays with her friends. Apparently 8 year old girls fart a lot, and when they do, they shout "not my farties!" and whoever is the last to say it (or not say it), is the one who farted. It's a cute idea, even though everybody is going to know that the first person to say it obviously did it. So she is telling us this story and I turn to my best friend since we were born, Schroeder, and say "hey, we should play that game!" To which of course he responds: "Oh please. With US it would be the other way around. It would be us screaming 'MY FARTIES!'"

Which of course, is what we did for the remainder of the night. I mean, look at us.

Anyway, I will not leave suggesting a single song tonight. I am suggesting an entire album. If you haven't heard I Can Make A Mess Like Nobody's Business "The World We Know", I highly suggest you do so. It was the CD I was listening to when my moment with the night swans was ruined.

-Jenny

Never go near bridges with my Dad.

So this summer around a campfire, the issue of what happened to our cat several years ago came up. My dad (Pig Pen) decided to tell us (everyone) about how the cat was so annoying that he put it in the backseat of his car, drove it over the Bourne bridge, and let it out "in a nice neighborhood." We had this cat when my sisters and I were about ages 11-14, so upon hearing this, we were quite shocked.

Now, I get that my dad has no patience whatsoever, but the fact that you are taking your daughters' cat away from them because it "meows" too much is probably something you should not do. Given the fact that poor Razzle was UNBELIEVABLY annoying, I still loved him like there was no tomorrow. And if I remember correctly, he loved me as well. That is probably why everyone calls me the "cat whisperer". Cats are cool around me. That and...I whisper to them too, just because I'm quite lonely most of the time.

ANYWAY, when my father did this...he went behind our backs to our mother (let her be known as Woodstock) and they schemed this plan together. Although I have no idea what was said, I am pretty sure it went something like this:

Woodstock: "Is everything set?"
Pig Pen: "Yes, the girls are at school. I came home early from work, they won't suspect a thing."
Woodstock: "Just make sure you let it out in a 'nice' neighborhood. That stupid cat WAS annoying but it doesn't deserve to DIE."
Pig Pen: "Okay, jeesh. What I really want to do is throw the goddamned thing right off the bridge!"
*They laugh evil-y together for approximately thirty seconds, then hang up*

So after about a week of Razzle NOT COMING HOME TO EAT AND SLEEP AND LOVE ME, our parents decide to tell us that Razzle ran away. Although I'm sure that they enjoyed watching us look around outside and leave the door open extra long in case he would run up onto the porch. They would probably joke around, saying things like "Hah, look at the girls looking around for that stupid thing, I actually saw Jenny shaking the food, trying to lure him back home," and "no really, when should we tell them? I'm starting to ACTUALLY feel kind of bad."

Learning about this several years later makes me realize that 1) parents are mean to children and 2) when I was 11 years old, I was pretty goddamn annoying too, and I'm glad my father never took me over any bridges. I guess he just does that to cats that never shut the hell up.

He jokes nowadays about how he really threw Razzle off the bridge, but my mom reassures us that he just let it out in another neighborhood far, far away.

ANYWAY, at this memorable campfire in the summer, when Sally, my 25 year old sister, asked my dad WHY he did this...he simply responded with:

"Cat sucked."

I like to think that he feels bad about what he did. He just looks so lost without Razzle.

They should make a class for this.

As anybody who knows me...knows that there are a lot of things that I don't understand.

For starters, why unicorns aren't real animals.

Second of all, how in the HELL does Macy Gray make a living as a singer? Her voice is as gross as her hair.

And thirdly, math. It takes a lot of talent to almost fail every single math class you've ever taken. But hey, I did okay in addition and subtraction. (I really didn't, the whole "burrowing from next door" thing in subtraction screwed me up.)

But ANYWAY, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I wish that I understood the confusing things in life. Why people do the things that they do, why they say the things that they say. Sometimes I see things in life that confuse me more than anything...to a point where I'm actually at a loss for words. It's kind of like me watching "Inception". Just my mouth open and a "what the HELL?!" expression on my face. Then the movie hits four minutes.

Anyway, enough about that. Which brings me to my next point: MTV's new show-"Skins".

Now, I'm aware that MTV has an insufferable amount of explicit shows. (Most of them I watch, although I hate to admit this). But the actors and actresses in this show range from ages 15-17, and although I'm happy that they have become rich and famous at such a young age, the things they are doing on the show are NOT okay with me.

1) In every episode, there is at least one sex scene. Very detailed. And gender is not an issue. EVERYBODY DOES EVERYBODY.
2) These kids smoke pot about 57 minutes out of the hour long duration. For some odd reason, I feel like this MIGHT give teenagers that watch the show the wrong impression.
3) These characters are flat out misfits. That's the only word I have for them. Misfits. In their free time of banging anything that moves and gazing around with bloodshot eyes, they take pills as if they were orange tic tacs. I say orange because they are simply the best tic tacs.

So good job MTV, because of your new show, teenagers all around are going to be sex-having, pill popping, ganja smoking RETARDS.

Once again, before I leave, I will suggest a song for everyone to listen to. I think tonight's song is "Glad Man Singing" by Iron & Wine. If you listen to it, you will smile. I guarantee it.

-Jenny

I know, it's from a book.

    So I've been hearing people tell me that I should "start blogging" things about my  life. I didn't know whether to follow their advice only because nothing funny ever really happens in my life. And if it does, it's only funny to me. Also, blogging reminded me of nerdy people sitting in front of their computer every night writing nonsense in hopes to get followers. I didn't want to be a nerd, but then I figured it's unavoidable. So here I am.

   I'm going to go ahead and do my family members and friends a favor and change their names. Just so they don't look like assholes. Because sooner or later, they will. So the only thing I can really do at this point is to change their names to the characters from the Peanuts cartoons. This makes sense to me. Keep this in mind.

So my sister, let's call her Lucy. She comes home from her birthday weekend with these $120 dollar Ray Ban sunglasses. I say "oh BOSS! Let me get mine!" Mine came from Newbury Comics and they cost me $10. In my opinion, I was the better shopper.

  
  In most pictures taken of me and Lucy, we make the same face. It is not planned.

   So in other news, people should probably understand that my father (who we are going to call Pig Pen) is...let's just say...crazy. He is the kind of man that walks around the living room in his underwear (probably with a few holes in them) saying "has anybody seen my clothes?!?!" This is already a funny situation, but it's even funnier that my grandmother, my sisters, myself, and my sister's boyfriend were all present in said living room. It's times like these where I am just at a loss for words.

   He also wears a "doo-rag" when we go on vacations. I feel like this should be said.



   So I was told to blog about funny things that happen. The only funny thing that really happened today so far was that my other sister, Sally, had asked if I had chap stick that she could use. This was a stupid question, because I cannot go a day without having chap stick in my left pocket. Hesitantly, I gave it to her and she pretty much ate the goddamned chap stick. After she smacked and slothered (I'm pretty sure I made this word up) her lips, she handed it back to me. I have since bought new chap stick, as I'm sure any sane person would.

Before I go, I am going to leave with saying that everyone should listen to the song "New Slang" by The Shins. Because as Natalie Portman tells Zach Braff in "Garden State", it will change your life. Listen to it through headphones too. If you won't do it for me, do it for Natalie Portman. She's cooler and prettier than me.

-Jenny