Jenrez

I’ve been trying to write something in here for a long time.  It’s just that all I have are complaints.  It feels like that's what this blog has been reduced to.  I hate that I can't find the humor in things anymore.  I hate a lot of things right now.  I don't even deserve to be depressed.

Wedding Bells, Booze and 'Barrassment

I went to a wedding on Saturday with Tim.  Two of his friends were getting married, and most if not all of his friends were attending.  I had met several of them before, all of them very nice.  Maybe there were no real issues to speak of, but I'm one of those people that suffers from Complete and Utter Embarrassment After Drinking.  Issues are commonplace.

It was pouring when Tim picked me up, so my staightened hair formed into a helmet of sorts, a partially curled, partially straightened Do of Undecided Hairs.  But really, it all started when I got drunk the night before.  My hungover nausea crept up prior to and during the ceremony.  The nauseous car ride kept me silent with 4 others in the car.  A long-long drive. 

The Nausea, for some reason, did not affect my desire to drink more, and yet it did affect my desire to eat more... a dangerous combination. I was drunk again in minutes of arriving at the reception hall.  This became a problem for the following reasons + whatever I don’t remember.               

a) I received TONS and TONS of compliments on my dress, my shoes and my pendant necklace.  Because I am COMPLETELY UNABLE to take a compliment and because I am aware of this, sometimes I try to make up for it, but it’s a certainty that I fuck that up too.  One reaction in particular to a compliment on my necklace came out: “yeah… it’s great, isn’t it?” 

b) dancing.  Oh god, the dancing. 

c) I recall pestering Tim’s best friend to dance.  And while that might not sound that bad… and while I meant the pestering to be more of a joke than anything… I still continued to annoyingly tell him to go dance for like, a half-hour straight. After several bouts of me not shutting up, one of his friends said, “He’s not going to dance.  Let it go!”

Oh.

d) Then there’s the inappropriate comment.  I told one of his friends she was hot.  I didn’t realize exactly how that sounded until after it had slipped out already.  DON’T TELL A GIRL SHES HOT AFTER JUST HAVING MET HER… IT MAKES FOR A REALLY AWKWARD MOMENT.

e) Dropped a full glass of wine… it completely shattered on the bar floor.

f) Discussed something in depth with one of Tim’s friends. Serious discussion. Maybe some tears involved? Just can’t remember what it was about.

I really really hope I went to sleep directly after this because I can’t remember anything else.  Such a crucial time for sleep.  So very very crucial.  DAMMIT.

BANE OF BOREDOM

I have completed THREE crosswords, a $2 Bingo card; eaten a frozen entrée, a bagel, a bag of cheetos AND a bag of popcorn; visited craigslist 5 million times, which is apparently the cut off on bandwidth because NO ONE HAS UPDATED ANYTHING FOR THE LAST 5 VISITS; balanced my checkbook, updated my budget spreadsheet, completed my calorie count on fitday.com; read www.dooce.com; www.queserasera.org; www.gofugyourself.com; www.geeseaplenty.com; all headlines at www.msn.com, including my horoscope; checked all 5 email addresses AT LEAST 20 TIMES; *created a quote for a client and answered the phone TWICE*; checked how much my needed belt will cost at www.autozone.com; drank 4 cups of coffee and 20oz of diet coke with lime; talked to Sophia for a half hour about my weekend; WROTE OUT EVERYTHING IVE DONE SO I CAN HAVE A PITY PARTY BUT MOSTLY BECAUSE I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT ELSE TO DO WITH MYSELF.

Oh, CRAIG! How I long for thine list.

I’ve discovered the gloriousness that is Selling All My Crap on Craigslist for More Money Than its Worth. 

So far: Crappy bathroom shelves that don’t fit in the new place – used for an entire year, originally paid $15-$20: SOLD $10

Crappy headboard from 1982 that my mom gave to me when I moved out 5 years ago SOLD $20

Still pending: Crappy dining room table I bought at SAM’S CLUB 5 years ago for $250, now has a crack through the glass top.  ALMOST SOLD $100

Crappy Becky Mask, she hasn’t taken it off in 2 years… wondering what she Really Looks Like.  ALMOST SOLD $.50

Crappy Butt.  Apparently, Becky has sold my ass on the internet as well.  PENDING SALE $1.00

Fourth of July

Scotty Boom
Originally uploaded by Jenrez.

Had quite the drinking marathon over the weekend. And falling in love with Flickr. The combination of the two has left the set of photos with a lot of really bad comments.

Who Needs a Barf Bucket?

Well, well, well.  It seems that Timmy beat me to the blogging.  And I’m the bored one that uselessly shops all day long as I’m bored at work on craigslist for homes, apartments, and let’s not forget the furniture for the homes and apartments [that I can't afford].  I suppose I’ll just use it as motivation.  I tend to get into writing funks despite my attempts at goals.

So, why not revamp the site with a nice tid bit about barfing?

I recently just got over The 48-hour Hangover, which left me with:

1) barf in my hair at 4am on Saturday night.

2) dry heaves the entire next day.

3) a headache for the entire SECOND DAY of recovery.

4) the realization that without the desire to drink for 2 days, I am one bored chica.

5) a learning experience: no matter how sick, fatigued or just plain lazy you feel while in this state, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT let your 17-year old brother within reach of a camera.

April Showers Bring May Bullshit

I can’t wait for May to be over.  I am one of those people that like to think blocks of time as they fit a 12-month calendar are emotional maps.  I am also a fan of lists.

This month:

1) I moved, which is always stressful no matter what you do to prepare for it.

2) This was also a move in which the apartment costs an extra $250 than I was used to spending in order to have a massage space.

3) I was also hired part time at a salon/spa for massage.  This is not so monumental in itself, but it cascaded into

4) Attempting to go part time at the job I’ve had for 5 years, taking the chance that they would fire me completely and the transition into massage therapy would leave me without money for rent.

5) After my very understanding boss lets me do this, I find out that the spa only intended to have me working on Saturdays (full well knowing my plans to go part time at my other job… in short, they totally fucked me).

6) They not only fucked me, but got me to go to a full Sunday’s training (with no pay).  All this leads to

7) Begging my boss to let me go back full time.

8) Then asking him if it’s still okay to take 2 days off (though I have no vacation left) to go to my prenatal certification class that consisted of (4) almost 12 hour days and left me without a weekend.

9) I also had to prepare for, stress out about and take my national certification exam.

10) I attempted to begin a fundraising raffle for my aunt Patti, who has been diagnosed with liver cancer.  My family gave me an incredibly hard time about it; and it was very hard to push through and make it happen with so much negative feedback; but it has commenced.  Tickets have been sold. 

11) After squeezing out my resources for my aunt, my immediate family has been hit with financial trouble and they need a fundraiser.

12) My wallet was stolen.  Within 2 hours (while I was still sitting at the coffee shop in which they took my wallet) the fuckers spent $4500 of my money.

13) $1200 of it was out of my checking account.  I have no savings.  I won’t get the money back for 40 days.  I had at least $800 out in pending checks.

14) My car was not drivable due to radiator problems.  I had to spend $400 to fix it.  I still have to pay the guy.

15) My car insurance company sent me a letter saying that I have not cooperated with them over my accident in November and they are dropping me.  WHAT?

16) My dad’s dog, my favoritist dog on the planet, the snuggliest of the snuggly, just had to have her leg amputated due to a bone infection that could have killed her.

To the Fucker(s) that Stole My Wallet Last Night

I can only imagine the sly smile on your face as you lifted the cover to my bag that was hanging on the back of my chair while I was studying. The pure confidence you must have to know I wouldn't feel your presence as you lifted my wallet. A living shadow. You must be, as the cashiers at Jewel and Target let you go through 23 times with 3 different credit cards and my check card. Really, Fucker(s), I want you to know my sincerity in wishing you all the luck in the world as you gamble all of my money away at Harrah's Casino. I really hope you have a great time in Joliet. I hope you didn't try to skimp on the room choice on my account.

Maybe one thing that you didn't know as you scoped my innocent face out among the many at Filter last night, is that I don't give up easily. I have every recorded time that a fraudulent transaction took place. Target, Jewel and Harrah's casino have one thing in common: they all have security cameras. I even know your room number at the casino hotel. Did you really think I would give you $4000 without a fight?

Never Gonna Get It

Earlier, I was staring at my Refurbished Sharper Image Stereo that looked so high tech on that computer screen that I couldn’t resist clicking the cute little cart and checking out. As I rediscovered the appearance of the glowing blue speakers, I realized just how fucking ugly it is. It stands out so much in this classically decorated apartment that it resembles my frizzy-haired brace-faced pale-bodied chubby ass trying out for the cheerleading squad in grade school, Catholic grade school. But that’s another story in itself.

My first stereo was a gift that probably cost about $20 and I thought it was the greatest thing that ever happened to me. The first CD it played was En Vogue and it weighed less than 2 pounds. It used to sit on the floor and watch me dance to it.

This brings me to the point of my story. The second stereo I had was bought by my father in rebuttal to the $20 En Vogue machine my mother had given me. I remember him wading through the aisles trying to find one that actually had wood speakers. Jensen. Not the greatest model in the world, but I could just see the hope in his eyes that I would start listening to the Beatles as soon as I heard the music pummel from the speakers.

This was also the night he told me I was an oops. He thought I already knew. OOPS.

My dad’s pretty cool. Cool enough to really piss off my step mom when she found out about the Jensen. Dad had a habit of spending frivolously. I remember him trying to convince her of the importance this was to make on my life. His chance to influence me.  Something in the form of, "It's just a fucking stereo!"

And what do I do with this glimmer of hope? I buy blue speakers on the internet because it looks pretty. Sorry Dad, but sometimes a girl just has to be girl.

Distractionless

This weekend is going to be rough. All of my friends are traveling and I am stuck and home… awrone.

Holly – Florida

Allison – Minnesota

Becky – Springfield

Amy – Joliet

Scotty – Camping

Then there’s always the bottom of the list that I prefer not to touch. Especially right now. So, I am left to pack for the big move next week and to think about being alone at a wedding reception on Saturday. CHABRY PREASE!