"My knee hurts because I have this huge rip in my jeans from being on my knees a lot at work...shut up."

So, the first thing I want to talk about is the mice that are scampering around my house. I love that word. Scamper. If I ever have another cat, his/her name is definitely going to be Scamper. I was sitting in my living room the other day just minding my own goddamned business when Diego is flipping out because there is a MOUSE that was there. They were having a good ol fashioned stare down. Then the mouse scampered away and out of our lives. OR SO WE THOUGHT. Little did we know, it was just the beginning.

So, a few nights later, around midnight thirty, I hear a commotion coming from the hallway. It was here that I heard a little squeak. I knew it was the mouse and I knew that she was probably dead now. Diego holds no prisoners. So I seek them out and Diego is walking towards me with this little mouse in her mouth. My first thought was, "Oh my God, we are NOT kissing anymore." But then I felt bad for the mouse, so I told her to put it down for some reason. Of course, if the mouse was still alive, it was obviously going to scamper away again. But it didn't. It just stood there, shaking. And you'd think Diego would go apeshit and rip it to shreds or something. But she just sat back and stared at it. Like, "yeah, I think we all know who's in charge here." (I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was, in fact, in charge.) So anyway, I didn't know what to do, so I took a towel and picked it up. Weirdly, it let me. Then I threw it outside.

It kind of sounds like I was doing a good deed here. I took the mouse from the cat's mouth and placed it gently outside. When in reality, I chucked it outside into the snow. However, when I checked a few minutes later, it was gone.

It's probably back in the house. But eh.

By the way, this is the look Diego was giving the mouse:

Speaking of snow, I took my Lucy's car to work the other day, which happened to be after a big snow storm. Our roads weren't plowed at all, so I barely got out of the driveway and started to slightly slipnslide. I thought it was quite funny/ peculiar that there is a LIGHT that goes on in the car that lets you know that you are, in fact, swerving. It's like, "Oh no, I totally don't feel myself going off the road or anything. Oh look, the light, I AM going off the road."When in reality, by the time the light goes on, you'd probably be in the trees anyway.

I was told once that I don't make fun of myself as much as I should on here. Many people seem to think that I only make fun of OTHER people. Which is obviously, COMPLETE bullcrap. But anywho.

I was having a conversation with Lucy the other day that led to me basically not knowing who Coco Chanel is. Clearly, I am not a girl. But I tried to redeem myself by simply buying a lipstick. It made me feel a little better. Anyway, here is how the conversation went:

Lucy: Do you want to watch that Coco Chanel DVD that I have?
Me: I'd rather die.
Lucy: You know who Coco Chanel is.....right??
Me: Uh, YEAH. She's a uhhhhh, I mean, isn't she a uhhhhh, doesn't she have a lot of...uhhhh.....isn't she like a fashion idol?
(she finally stops laughing)
Lucy: She's a designer, Jen.
Me: Yeah, that's what I meant.

Whatever.


Anyway, here is what I do instead of studying the fashion of Coco Chanel.

-Jenny

"...Do you want to talk about Columbine some more??"

So, I haven't written in quite some time. A few changes have happened.

1) I have a new favorite beer-Pabst Blue Ribbon. Why? Well, it's okay, but for the most part, it's the cheapest beer ever. Once I bought an 18 pack for 11 dollars, I was flabberghasted. The red line under that word tells me it's not spelled right, but I think it is...soooooo anyway. It may not be my new favorite beer by choice, but by price.

I think the bottom line is, when you work at Shaw's, you drink Pabst Blue Ribbon. It's just one step above living in a cardboard freakin box.

2) I'm going to wear scarves more often. I always used to, but I mean like everyday. It makes me feel more...poetic. When in reality, I haven't written a poem for over 3 months. Although I DID write 3 LINES of a poem the other day. See? Making progress. I'm gonna be like one of those people who go to Starbucks and keep their scarf on the whole entire time and wear fake glasses and pretend to be writing poetry, when all you're really doing is writing a list of celebrities you would "do". If you think I'm saying this from experience, you may or may not be right.

3) I don't know if this is a new development, but I stole Wet Naps the other night. Now, this is surprising to me because first of all, I have never really ordered something that required Wet Naps. I try not to look like a disgusting pig when I eat (although it always seems to happen). But seriously, I was just with friends who ordered wings, and the waitress gave us a pile of Wet Naps. What's the first thing I do? I steal the Wet Naps. Why? I have no idea. Probably the same reason why I stole the miniature toothpick sword that they put in sandwiches. (After I had a sword fight with Schroeder, of course). It's like I'm a packrat. I just have to steal all these little things.

Anyway, I have had this thing recently where I want to start watching more serious movies. Like, movies with meaning. I just don't want to watch stupid retarded comedies all the time, like I used to when I was 15. I told this to my boyfriend Linus, and in response, he FORCES me to watch "MacGruber". Now, I don't know how many people have heard or seen this movie, but it goes directly under the "stupid retarded comedy". In other words, the kind of movies that I wanted to watch less of. But no, instead I am watching a man tell another man he wants to "cut his dick off and shove it down his throat". I almost screamed, but kept calm.


Kind of like if you had a "weird" dream about someone that you know, and when they come up to you and comment on your new haircut, you want to scream "DON'T TOUCH ME!" but realize that the dream in fact, NEVER happened.

Linus and I played trivia tonight at Friday's, like we always do. But this week, it was only the two of us on account of all our friends are completely lamefaces. I was going to say that they are retarded, but it would contradict what I am about to say.

We did awful. And I mean like "Joaquin Pheonix on Leno" awful. We didn't know any answers to any questions. We finished with about 54 points, while the average final scores ranged from 80-100. AND WE CHEATED on some of the questions! And the questions we DIDN'T cheat on were like "Oh I think the answer is Poland!" WRONG, the answer was the NETHERLANDS. That's almost as bad as being asked what color the sky is and replying with "FIRETRUCKS". Dear LORD.

My mom told me she worried about me today. She said this because apparently I do not know my way out of a paper bag. This hurt somewhat. But I'll keep truckin...


-Jenny

Sleeping arrangements?

So Christmas and New Years happened. This will always be my favorite time of year. I guess I'll just describe the highlights.

Christmas was very fun, like it always is. We came back from my aunt's house and we watched the Muppet Christmas Carol, and Schroeder came by at 1:30 am. We were still awake when the movie ended, so we watched it again. There is nothing like seeing the Muppet Marleys sing "We're Marley and Marley" twice. I still think that I'm right when they are going back down to wherever they came from after they sing their song, they say "CHAINS!" Because I guess they say "CHANGE!" because they are demanding that Scrooge "change" his evil ways. BUT! The Marley brothers ARE in fact, in chains. I mean, if I were wrapped up in chains, I'd be yelling out "CHAINS" too.

So anyway.

Christmas day was lovely, and I would like to say that I tried skateboarding (for the first time since I was 12-13 years old) and I somehow lost my balance going down a slight incline. What happened you ask? I totally ate shit is what happened. I fell so hard backwards that my chin actually hit the ground. I don't even know how that happened. I can't say I'm sad that it happened, I'm just saying that maybe it's the pavement's way of saying "why the HELL are you on a skateboard right now? You are 23 years old, loser!" Normally, I would say something like, "well, you're never too old to do something," but the soreness, the scrapes, and a bruise the size of Jupiter on my leg are enough evidence to say "stay away from things with wheels, asshole."

It's funny, because balance is all that snowboarding is. And I can actually snowboard. So why when I step on a skateboard, my balance goes out to lunch? It's like when I step on a skateboard my balance sees a hot guy walk by and is like "oop, see yah later!" Then WHAM! Here's the ground. AND I'd much rather fall on snow than on pavement. Just sayin.

New Year's Eve was last night, and might I say, it was glorious. Since we live in a quiet, homey, cozy neighborhood, we thought it was only proper that we light a shit ton of fireworks off in the middle of our street. Franklin and Schroeder lit them off while us girls stayed back and watched from a distance. The funny thing was, when they lit the fuse, they scampered off, giggling. Every time. There's just something about two grown men scampering and giggling that makes me laugh. The fireworks were extremely big and loud, and when they were done, we heard sirens in the distance. So we ran back into the house.

There was one point in the night that my dad was trying to figure out who was going to sleep where that night, seeing as how pretty much everyone was staying the night. I don't like to repeat this, but it simply cannot go unsaid.

This is a direct quote of what my dad had said:

"If you're tight for room tonight, you can just sleep in between mom and I..."

Upon hearing this, I bursted out in laughter, as did everyone else. When I saw that he was looking at me with not even a FLINCH of humor, I told him that he could not be serious. When his face did not change again, I realized that he said this 101% serious. It is here that I got a really weird feeling and wanted to walk out of the house forever.

Then he said to my MARRIED sister and her husband that she could sleep with Lucy and he could sleep on the couch. Dad, like seriously, they're married now. They sleep in the same bed. What part of this aren't you getting? Sometimes I think my dad's brain plays hopscotch. Like when he mixes weird alcohol together that definitely shouldn't be mixed with the other. It's funny though because nowadays, all the weird shit that he does, everyone just passes it off because now it is seen as his "normal behavior". Kind of like "Dad's doing situps in his underwear? Yeah, so? What's the issue?"

-Jenny