Explhaustion and Fragrances

MAN ALIVE. Though I don't know what that phrase actually refers to, just MAN ALIVE has this been a busy three weeks at work. Like, so busy that my desk looks like a shred-it machine barfed all over it before it had a chance to digest. As seen here:


It is full of things. Mostly things that I haven't yet finished and should have finished last week, or things that I'm not even allowed to sort and file yet, but will find myself in hot water if I do not at least sort and get a general sense of the topography of the paper landscape. Also note that THE WALLS ARE MADE OF GLASS. This does not promote quiet thought, concentration and focus, or browsing the internet at any point. It does promote getting waved at by every person I've ever met, and having the glass next to my desk tapped on as if I were a fish in an aquarium. A highly stylish aquarium.

Hence the rarer blogging. It's harder to justify sitting down in my limited at-home time and writing about how many cells I entered data into on one of my forty-two spreadsheets today. Or how I GOT GIFTED BVLGARI PERFUME this week by a contractor. Right after we'd splurged and each bought ourselves perfume, too. Now I have two. I can smell of a "crisp, floral green scent that arouses a spirit of fresh floral emotions and embodies the natural, distinctive young woman seeking a sensual signature essence as pure and enticing as the first spring blossoms." I TOTALLY WANTED TO HAVE FRESH FLORAL EMOTIONS. That's what all the Prozac had been for!! Or, I can smell like myself... that is to say... "outrageous, but always charming and unpredictably sexy. Fresh and playful, the fragrance is a classic, green-oriental blend of lush fruits, sweet nutty essences, and soothing amber, vanilla, and Tonka bean. And everyone know what a sweet nutty essence I am. I'm glad I'm not a perfume verbage artist.

Ugh

The longer I go without posting, the easier it is to be all "Meh... I haven't posted in 400 days... what's another day to add to that? No one will care." Perhaps this is true. Perhaps not.

Our good friend Molly stayed with us on our pea-green superfuton last WEEK, which was pretty much the greatest. She can be our fifth futon roommate anytime, or all the time. She even got up with me at FIVE in the MORNING to go on walks before I had to leave for work. That is hardcore. I went for a walk by myself at the five in the morning yesterday, and it was the lame. I even carried my pepper spray in plain view because, even though I've never really been approached or even have a reason to think I might be, I'm still scared some dude will come up and try to sweet-talk me and then throw me to the ground on the side of one of the busier streets in Downtown Long Beach. I'm scared of the bums, too, but I was thinking on my walk alone yesterday about how it's really way less likely for a bum to rape you, because rape is really all about power and control, and obviously if bums were lusting after power and control then they wouldn't be bums. But I steer clear generally, regardless of this thought, because bums are oftentimes crazy.

I did not get up at five this morning to walk because Jesse and I stayed up late(r) last night to put together the new BED FRAME he got off craigslist last night. This is the first time I won't be sleeping on a mattress on the floor since I moved out of my parent's house!!! This also signifies the beginnings of bruised shins and stubbed toes, because while it doesn't matter how hard you round the corner of your floor-mattress in the morning, it really does matter when the corners are made of wood. Or particleboard. Still. I have to give the hubbin props - when I got home from sewing class, the bed was fully paid, transported, and assembled in the bedroom. All I had to do was help shove the mattress on top. The best husbandly thing EVER. I bet now I have to cook actual meals for like a whole two weeks in gratitude. P.S., that may not be the best form of repayment. Just a warning, you who eat my cooking.

Upcoming Events

1) Drinking terrible coffee for several months straight. I don't know why I did this - well, I do know why I did this, but in retrospect, I don't know what sort of rationale made me believe myself... I bought a vat of Yuban coffee. "Why!?", you ask. "Why would you buy church (of discomfort) discount coffee in a 700-serving size?! Do you wish to torture yourself to prove that you're tough?!" Answer: not initially, but I'll power through, and then you'll be forced to respect me. For drinking a whole vat of Yuban. The rationale, p.s., was that Margaret first suggested a vat of Maxwell House (served by the po' church of vexation of spirit), then a cheerily colored vacuum-pak of Dunkin' Donuts coffee, so I grabbed the nicely-colored Yuban and ran, never looking sideways at all the winking packages of Starbucks and Ethiopian Yrgacheffe wondering why I had forsaken them.

2) Molly is coming to visit for a WEEK! Who knew my futon was so comfortable? And she's even sharing it with her travel buddy. WIN for green futon! We're so broke that we aren't going to be able to show her any sights except whatever is along the free bus route and "things Jenny has never cooked but is attempting today." Should be an exciting trip for her - I mean - foodwise, at least. Maybe not so much adventurewise.

3) Reno Dance Sensation ( www.renodancesensation.com). Still not 100% decided on going, actually. Wouldn't it be cooler, really, if instead of spending several hundred non-existent dollars on a hotel room and staying up for four days straight, we instead came HOME the next weekend and spent several hundred HOURS (or 100 hours) hanging out with all our friends in an intimate, exhaustion-and-alcohol-and-rockstar-free environment? Quite possibly involving wine? And sleep during the night? Again - not sure. Jesse really does love sitting next to the craps table and watching, hoping to be tapped again for the AAA magazine photo shoot so he can feel important and get free booze. (As if you don't get free booze by watching craps).

4) Jon and Marg may be extending their stay for another couple months, so I don't have to worry about packing all my shit into boxes with numbers for at least another couple months. I'm down. I prefer Long Beach over all the other terrible smelly cities in the greater Los Angeles area.

5) If Jesse ever fails a class, it means we have to stay in LA another 8 months. No pressure.

New THING!!

The produce-things bug has stricken again, and this is the welt it produced:


One fancy-pants, poorly photographed pearl necklace. More to come.

I Remember why I Only Listen in the Morning

My coworker was able to tune our radio into an ACTUAL RADIO STATION yesterday, through many many layers of sheet rock and that silver metallic duct-y tube and old pigeons and being removed from planet earth by a hallway as long as God. That station was KIIS FM, which I have mentioned before in my references to Ryan Seacrest in the Morning who interrupts Everyone Ever Born except for Michelle Obama, which was awesome.

Listening to this radio station reminded me just WHY I'll only listen to today's hits (but not yesterday's favorites) for the half hour it takes me to sling my little car to work in the morning (but not in the evening)... if I EVER hear "pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face. pa-pa-pa-poker face, my pa-poker face." again, I will personally find "Lady" Gaga and pa-pa-pa-poke her face. With my fist. And maybe the brass knuckles that I'll craft for the occasion out of recycled chewing gum wrappers, sequins, and death. Srsly. I heard it EIGHT times yesterday. If people want to hear it that much, they can go buy her CD. Or steal it off the internet. Something that would remove it from constant repetition over the airwaves. Also, that song that stole the melody from "You Spin Me Right Round (like a record)". Not only is the song dirty in and of itself, it also hearkens consistently back to meatspin. Really, dude. My roommate covered that a year ago.

I watched Ryan Seacrest on American Idol while we were eating sushi last night, and it occurred to me that Ryan Seacrest is probably a vampire. There's no way he could possibly have enough hours to do all things he does and still sleep. He Idols, he does his radio show from 5 - 10am, he shows up in random places to stick his weird face with extra-wide mouth into random photos, he goes out with the mean guy from American Idol and picks up chicks, he does things with only attractive women that I don't want to think about, he shows up on Jimmy Kimmel... and the only thing about him that isn't ordinary is his work ethic. I could interrupt people for 5 hours a morning. I could host American Idol but my teeth aren't shiny enough. I could pick up hot chicks at a bar with a guy who is mean-bit-british so it's ok. However - I would NOT do all of these things simultaneously. This is where Ryan Seacrest and I differ - also the genitalia. But more the work ethic. He REALLY wants to be important. He wants to be a global brand. I really want to not work. And there you have it. The END.

Wine-O, Mine-O

We went back home this weekend!

OH, how I miss having friends with whom to sit around and eat unhealthy things and not worry about waistlines and whether or not after eating something you will continue to fit into next season's daring fashions. It was like visiting another, happier planet, where friendship matters more than fashion. It also helps, I think, that everyone lives withing 10 minutes of each other.

Jesse's mom made us corned beef and cabbage for the special occasion of our visit - while I appreciate the MAD effort and time that goes into making a 3 pound hunk of otherwise unusable cow into a salty brothy concoction ... this does not really count towards the "food" category of things in a kitchen. I do not like it, Sam I Am. It made Jesse sick for a whole day due to the richness (fattiness). Maybe that means he won't lust after me making it for special occasions. Which I wouldn't anyway. Guess what he's getting for graduating from doctor school? NOT IRISH FOOD.

It was so nice to sit with a group of 4 friends and my lil' (BIG) brother and just drink 3 bottles of wine and eat bread with oil and balsamic and baked brie with brown sugar and with bleu cheese, and then play Yahtzee because no one will play word games with me. It was nice to sit with friends, period. Drinking 3 bottles of wine and eating 2 loaves of bread and a wedge of cheese just isn't the same when it's only you and the person you're with EVERY DAY. You get fatter that way, and sometimes have wine hangovers, which are less rumble-gutsy but more headachey than other hangovers. It's like your body is like "these are grapes. Grapes are natural for human consumption. WAIT. THESE GRAPES HAVE GONE BAD. I'll teach you not to eat bad grapes. Here is a headache lesson."

And so. Wonder of wonders. I miss small-town life quite a bit. Though I might not have gotten up the gumption to take up sewing if I still had friends. So there is that.