Washing Machine.

Holy shit, look who decided to write a fucking blog post.  

So this morning I woke up 30 minutes late.  I have perfect eagle eyes, so when I wake up in the morning everything is clear and I should not trip over giant, industrial strength fans.  But trip I did.  Sending the fan across the room to split into two pieces.  One blade bent in half and then (maybe...I was tired and the chronology is fuzzy) the side of my foot slit open.  I didn't realize this until I was in the shower and hot water worked its way inside of the bloody gash and made me want to slit my sides open with daggers and die.  Like, one dagger in each hand, jam them into my sides and do a "washing machine" motion back and forth.  

But I didn't.  Instead I got dressed and headed for the door to go to work.  This is when I realized that it was going to be impossible to put a shoe on.  Meaning...it would be impossible to go to work unless barefoot.  This turned out to be awesome because I got to stay home and spackle and sand our kitchen.  Upon completion, I announced to Greta that I was going to have a beer. (seriously, I announced this.  Aloud.  I realized as the words came out of my mouth that I am a retard.)  I then reached to the back of the fridge to avoid the warm, recently replenished cans, pulled one out, opened it and took a sip.  Only to find that it was a can of lemonade.  I love lemonade.  But not when I'm expecting it to be beer.  I spit it out and announced (again, this was out loud and to my dog) "Fuck! Greta!" pause and glance at can.  "This is lemonade!"  I then grew extremely embarrassed, probably turned red, and went outside to garden.  

Another interesting story.  On Sunday I took a break from gardening to go introduce myself (This is odd, I don't often approach people unprovoked) to my very old, slightly crazy neighbor.  She proceeded to tell me everything.  Everything about everything.  And then asked me if I was carrying.  Confused, I asked "carrying what?  my garden gloves?"  She then told me that it looked like I was "carrying something up front."  Meaning she thought I was pregnant.  Awesome.  I told her no, it's not a fetus, I just like to eat.  She ignored my statement and told me that she doesn't like dogs. 

daggers and jalapenos, 

jen. 

¡La vaca santa, usted es 27!

Burritos! ¡Hay un volcán en usted apoya paquete!

tits and cigars

-amy

a conversation.

A conversation between me and someone else…

Someone else: Hey did you see my Email?

(FWD email … )
Chinese eye test
THIS IS BRILLIANT!!!

If you cannot decipher anything, then try pulling
the corner of your eyes as if you were Chinese.
It works. Too FUNNY not to pass on!


Me: Yeah…I’m already Chinese (Taiwanese)


Someone else: NO. You’re Asian that’s different from Chinese, right?

Me: Umm….

Someone else: Well. Where is Asia and where is China? (note: we work in the global logistics world)

I attempted to slowly explain, however was interrupted with a story about an old co-worker who was ‘gay, Taiwanese and so cute’ who went to Taiwan and loved it.

Yay a noodle slide for the Chinese and some Asians!

Monkey kisses!

-amy

HIV, Spinal Tap.

Last night I dreamt that Matt and I flew to St. Thomas to have our cholesterol levels checked for free.  When we got there we learned that cholesterol levels are checked via spinal tap.  I backed out, not because of the pain involved but because I was concerned about contracting HIV from the needle.  I sat in the waiting room while Matt underwent the procedure and worried about AIDS.  

transatlantic

Weeks have come and gone since Ambien failed me.  And now it's back on the "things I think are cool" list.  So is St. Thomas.  The island.  For the past 8 days I was on Katie's tropical island.  I remember 7 of them.  This is very disturbing for me and there were moments when I was unsure whether I would ever be invited back.  The day in question happened to be Easter.  Never a good holiday for me, I took it upon myself to liven things up and it all spiraled down from there.  Now I'm back to claiming I'll never imbibe in excess again.  Knowing all too well that I will fail.  I'm told that this is alcoholic talk and this time I'm not going to argue.  

Aside from Easter Sunday, this trip was top-notch and included numerous highlights such as:  A panty-less woman at a bar who decided to pull her dress up and stick her feet in the air, picking up a conch shell and looking at it's eyes, playing with other people's puppies, eating fish for the first time in... 5 years, eating crab for the first time in... ever, a caribbean boat trip that made me "get" boats, and an unfortunate sunburn with lines that make no sense.  Another highlight included Katie and John, who are hilarious, tolerant and most importantly, forgiving of drunken visitors.  

Speaking of boats.  I've been wondering how expensive a classy transatlantic boat ride would cost.  It came to my attention recently that it is still fairly common to travel by ship across the Atlantic.  It struck me as something I would thoroughly enjoy.  Despite being horribly inefficient, it's a quaint and probably pleasant way to travel.  Also, if disaster struck it would be much more interesting than exploding in the sky in an airplane. Which is bound to happen.  

Matt's burn is worse than mine and I can prove it:

blackouts and sunburns,

Jen

Giant Ground Sloth

I realize that most things I say have nothing to do with anything and when they do they typically come from a negative, sarcastic place deep inside of me.  Which may lead some (as I've stated before) to question (rightfully) my sincerity.  Like when I said that I deeply enjoy taking Ambien and watching movies.  That was not sarcastic.  

I fucking LOVE, taking Ambien and watching movies.  In fact, I love taking Ambien and not watching movies too.  I could take ambien and do or not do anything ALL THE TIME.  But I don't because that would make me a more horrible person than I already am.  

After minimal coaxing, my doctor replenished my supply yesterday.  and it was all I could think about all day long.  I can't wait to go to bed, not be able to sleep, and take an Ambien.  So the second I got home from green beer drinking with Amy and others, I crawled into bed, took one and waited.  and NOTHING happened.  Nothing except that I got REALLY tired and fell asleep.  No blurred vision, no prophecies, no math problems, nothing.  It did exactly what it was supposed to do and I have never been more disappointed.   Except for that time that I almost saw Bjork, but then didn't, but Joel did.  Or the time that Michael Ian Black was in town and I thought that for sure I'd run into him at a bar and he'd think I was hilarious, but then I didn't and even if I had he would never have thought I was hilarious, which is disappointing in itself.

So that's that.  Do I try again tonight?  Or do I add Ambien to my list of things that I no longer think are cool.  I guess we'll never know. 

hugs,

Jen

RAD

Cool Jen, really cool.

This is what I fucking think about in the shower. Pretty sure it beats a Heidyburger any day...

BOOM

-Amy