No Sleep for Me!

My impending birthday has been keeping me up at nights. Lately I’ve been dreading it, knowing it’s on it’s way, but not for the reasons you’re likely thinking. I’ve dreaded this day for several years now, not because I’m getting older, but because I am nearly always let down.

Now, before you wrinkle your nose and mark me up as one of those materialistic girls that sulks when she doesn’t get a nice present, think again. I’m not talking about gifts. I’m talking about people forgetting, commandeering, yadda yadda…you get my point. This year the horror is spending it with my psychotic family.

My brother Van and B-renda I’ve had enough of lately. There’s only so much I can take of my brother’s bearded fiance’ and talking about their wedding or rat-dog. Then there’s my brother David with his chain smoking, lame comments, and more than likely his old (she’s a few years younger than my mother) whore girlfriend would be attached to his side and feeling up his butt. Of course, then there’s Bob. My wonderful step-father who would rather I not be here so he could belittle my mother and get his childish, gimpy-arse, pees in his pants, acts like a retard, grumpy old way.

*Ahem*

So, on top of all the stress of thinking about showing up in a resturant, or spending a few hours at home with my family, the other thing keeping me up is my poor little dog. For those that knew she had some problems on tuesday she’s doing better. We’re not sure her head tilt will ever go away, but we really don’t care at this point. We’re just happy she’s walking again. So combined with the worry of my pet, there’s family troubles on top of it.

I swear, if it weren’t for my sweetie I would be running in front of an on-coming truck. Infact I read this poem whenever I really can’t take it anymore.

I’ll be there

When life seems so unfair,
when others cause you strife,
when drowning in despair,
when everything is troubled in your life,
I’ll be there.

When those around you seem to joy at your expense,
when your feelings are crushed,
when you’ve put up your last defense,
when you feel you’ve given up on trust,
I’ll be there.

I’ll be there, a smile on my face.
I’ll be there, supporting you from the start.
I’ll be there, a warm safe embrace.
I’ll be there, there within your heart.

I’ll be there, to make your spirit soar.
I’ll be there, every waking and sleeping hour.
I’ll be there, within you my love, my love chimes.

Just listen to your heart, it speaks softly sometimes.

Whoopsie!

As some of you know, I’m in the final (hopefully) stages of a divorce. My ex, Colin, cheated on me some time ago (2 years ago) and I wasn’t able to move past it and forgive him. It could have been the whole he wasn’t sorry thing, but… yeah, I digress.

He sent me packages in April while I was in Florida visiting with my parents. Though he only mentioned this to me AFTER the fact, and I ended up paying $300 to get things I’ve lived without for a year. Now, I know I mentioned in my last post that I’m not a bitter person, but that crap made me bitter. Spending that kind of cash on clothes that I haven’t even thought about for a year… yeah, ANYWAY! I put them in the garage and decided I’d go through them when I had the chance. Well, it’s been quite a while and in my monthly email to the loser and his parents (since he can’t handle anything by himself) I had mentioned while he was being so generous and sending clothes I could care less about, would he send my baby pictures, dvds, … and I listed a few other things.

Well, I hadn’t gotten a response back yet and the federation for the blind had called saying they were going to be in the area. I thought about just not opening the packages, but I gave in, dusted off the spiders and cigarette (thanks dave)/garage dust and brought them in one-by-one and sorted out what I would keep, give away, and throw away. I was in the last box and pulling out clothes when a bright peice of fabric caught my eye.

“What the?” I said as I pulled them out of the box with my index finger and thumb. Now, before you get that silly grin on your face like I’m showing you my panties, stop. These whoreish abominations are not mine. While I’m most assuredly a very feminine girl, a pair of fire engine red panties would not be something that my classic tastes would aim for. The only thing I can think of, considering his scrape everything into a box method of packing, was that he accidently scraped some other girl’s panties into the box. Pardon me while I chortle… but my gosh, what an idiot!

Now, you might think, “Why is she blogging about this?” and I’d agree if it weren’t for the email I recieved this evening. It’s just toooo perfect that I couldn’t bare to keep it to myself!

Colin “the Martyr” wrote:

Hi Jenny,

Didn’t you get your DvD’s with the clothes that I sent? I stuck them in the tall, skinnier box, I believe somewhere in the middle. I am sorry I have been procrastinating on sending your other things. I will do it this week. I will send you an IM with the tracking codes and whatnot. Please check the box of older clothes for your DvD’s to make sure I didn’t send them because I don’t have those here anymore.

I know you’re passed all the difficulties in this situation and you are in the process of moving on. However, its still hard for me to let go of thinking about you and wishing and hoping there was still a chance we could salvage something. I meant what I said when I told you that no matter what happened between us I would always be here for you and even if you don’t want it I will always care for you. Wether you believe this or not is up to you. That is the reason it has been taking long with sending your personal affects. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for this.

I hope things are going well with you. Wish your brother well at his wedding, and say hi to your Mom and Bob for me.

Colin

I’ve made my favorite part of this letter the same color as the whore’s panties. Do you believe me now when I say my life is a freakin’ circus? I’m tellin’ you… this could only happen to me! Well… or maybe my sweetie Keith, he has some good ones too.

Bitter? Who’s bitter?

As I looked over my recent posts I realized, my goodness, I look bitter. I’m really not a bitter, angry person but I do tend to concentrate a little too much on the way people treat me (especially if it’s negative) especially when I have some free time to think about it. Unfortunately I’m not one of those people who can just simply let the remarks of close family members and friends slide off my back. On the other hand, those on the outer limits of my closely connected relations I could care less about. If a total stranger said the things my brother said, or Bob, etc I would just shrug my shoulders and mark it up as another lunatic or jerk.

While I do have problems with family, and this is a personal journal I have to remember that life is too dern short to concentrate on the bad parts. Right? Right. So while I pile up the Kleenexes due to my allergy attacks (thank you humidity!) I’ll pass along some of the really funny things that I’ve stumbled across lately.

First, I’d like everyone to check out my link list. There have been a few new links added in there that are sure to tickle your funny bone. You have to check out Keith’s new blog Is the Juice Worth the Squeeze? He’s got a killer sense of humor, but don’t take my word for it. Get on over there and read, you’ll chortle along with me I just know it.

Second, in my daily morning reads (aside from my ex’s emails *snort*) is another blogger named Brad at Blogg’d. Brad’s witty reviews of bloggers always leaves me in stitches. His sense of humor is something along the lines of what I’m like when I’m sitting with someone and people watching , if you get what I’m saying, only he’s doing it with blogs. Those he review tend to take his smiting them a little too seriously, but that’s what makes it so funny! I’m sure you’d like it if you read it, so get to it! Through his comments I found some of my newer links, so check ’em out!

Another is Ingrown Brain Stem by copygodd. While his picture is a little disturbing, he does have funny rantings where I found this. I absolutely love Triumph, he always makes me laugh so definitely watch that, I know you’ll laugh too. Don’t forget to pop on over to that blog too, he does a much better job with the sarcastic humor than I can. at least with written words.

There has been some dern funny story telling on Jerkface‘s blog. He really sounds like he’s had as many odd experiences as I’ve had. Then again, who could have as many as me? Ha! Not possible.

Lastly, I’d like to finish with a little history about me. Now you might mistake this for my being bitter, but really… I have a much better sense of humor than all that! I laugh on a regular basis about…. well just about everything, but most especially myself.

I’ve always had a baby face, it’s a blessing some say, but a curse to me. When you’re 27, soon to be 28, you don’t want to look like you’re 16 or on my good days 18. Now, some of you might disagree, but here’s where I prove that looking younger really mudder-feekin’ sucks.

When you’re a teenager, adult type people tend to take you far less seriously than, say, if you’re 28. Do you remember the disapproving looks? The eye rolling? Being ignored by a salesperson because she figures her older customer can afford a $300 purchase, and you, a teenager can’t? Well then, you’re just beginning to see into my world.

Now, mind you, I know some day I’ll be counting my blessings instead of my wrinkles, but in the mean time it’s very frustrating to have some experience and knowledge and never get to assert it because I look like a baby.

For example:

While standing behind the table at the church’s coffee hour, a woman approaches me to ask, “Did you make these, honey?” I smiled and nodded. “Yes, me and Costco.” She had a puzzled look on her face so I then explained, “They’re from Costco, I bought them.” She nodded with a smile, “Ahh…” only to ask me 3 more times where I learned to bake them. She then tried to boost my brownie points with my mother by saying, “I saw Jenny here at church quite a few times while her…” she looks to me nodding, “… grandma was in Florida.” My polite nodding turned into a stare of utter disbelief. My mother, who is a grandmother but certainly doesn’t look like mine, gave the same blank stare. EVERYONE in that church knows she’s my mother. We look EXACTLY alike, for heaven sake. Idiot.

Another would be on the road headed to the movie theater for a night out with the girls when a car pulls out of a street right directly in front of me. I swerved and honked my horn, but the idiot just kept on going. As I pried my mother’s nails out of my forearm she said, “Honk your horn again!” So I did. The woman moved onto another side street and parked her car. She got out and came to the window saying in a breathy, air headed tone, “Did I hit you?” Now… where on freakin’ earth did she think she wouldn’t feel her little compact car collide with the JEEP? Then she looks all sad and says, “Oh, and you’re a new driver too.” Did she have a death wish? I think so. Needless to say, her airy-like behavior took all the wind out of my sails, and as she left to get back into her car I turned to my mother and said, “Not a freakin’ word about the ‘new driver’ comment! And she took away my right to swear at her!”

This world is full of freaks, and I’m sorry to say, I’m a freak magnet. On the plus side, I do have good stories to tell. Annd… if I really have to look at the bright side to my looking young… I’d say… I get away with a heck of a lot when I feel like being immature. (And that’s pretty much always.)

The June Sky

Tonight 30-40 minutes after sunset (looking west) Venus, Saturn & Mercury will be very clearly visible.
Saturn will be down lower, and Mercury and Venus will be higher up and rather close together and will stay that way for the next 7 nights. Tonight, however, is when you should be able to cover Mercury and Venus up with your little finger at arms length.

I went to the lake to get a pretty picture. The 2 little dots in the picture (not the shiney squiggly thing to the left) are Mercury and Venus, with Venus being the one above, I believe. The sky was absolutely gorgeous, I hope you all will enjoy the show for the next week, I know I certainly plan to.


In this image I had to brighten the planets a little bit because you could barely see them in the picture. In person, however, they were as bright as you see in this picture. So basically you’re seeing what I saw.

Keith passed this on from his mom, and so I thought I’d share it here.

This picture is showing how on the 29th Mars will be so close to the moon that it will likely appear to be ALOT larger than it’s normal small star size. I hope everyone gets a good glimpse at the stars and if not I’ll try to get a picture of what I see.

And remember, when you’re looking up there, that I’m looking up at the same sky you see. Amazing, isn’t it?

Granoblasticman

I wanted to make a post about the stars, my Meghan visit, etc. but I felt a little selfish after hearing Granoblasticman’s news today. His brother was killed in a car accident lastnight, or early this morning, due to drinking and driving. My heart goes out to him and his family, along with my prayers, I know what it’s like to lose a very close family member.

It makes me sad because it brings back the memories of when, at 14, I lost my dad and how I felt like I knew something more about life than anyone else my age at the time did. Thankfully I had a strong core of support in my mom, friends, and family.

I can’t say I really truely know Granoblasticman (aka Ken) other than we share a love for on-line gaming (where we met) and that he’s a good person. I’ve been his instant messenger older sister, as he has said, for a long time now and listened to his woes of teenagedom, girls, etc. He’s reminded me why I’m so glad that the drama of high school has been long left behind me.

So I’m dedicating this post on his behalf and asking that if you’re reading this you include him and his family in your prayers.

Jerk!

Alright, so lately Bob (my step-father for those who don’t know) and I have been at war. I have a problem with the way he treats people, namely my mom, and he’s just absolutely self-centered. My mom sees a man who, even though he treats her like “the help” (which is what he called her one day), is a very caring and loving person. Obviously we all know that saying about love and how it’s blind. This would be the classic case.

Last tuesday was my breaking point. I spent much of monday helping him learn how to use his computer printer to print out some pictures for an album he has. This is something I do on a regular basis because he isn’t really interested in learning how to do it, he just wants someone to do it for him. Tuesday he had a doctor’s appointment and, for a change, I was let off the hook and relaxed at home. While I was sitting outside I saw a bird that I hadn’t seen before and I wanted to quickly get a picture of it so I could look it up in the bird book. To my chagrin the camera was no where to be found. Did he take it with him? Hrm!

My parents arrived home not too long after (I found out it was a goldfinch, btw) and I questioned my mom about what they had done with the camera. She said she didn’t know, she doesn’t use the thing. So, I asked her to ask Bob about it since he’d gone into their room and the door was closed. I over-heard the conversation from the living room.

Mom: Bob? Where did you put the camera?
Bob: It’s on the right hand side of the left shelf in the library, behind the decorative box.
Mom: What?
Bob: (explains)
Mom: Where you hiding it?
Bob: No, honey, (explains).
Mom: *disapprovement in her voice* Ok, got it.

I sat in wonder as I watched my mom hunt for the hidden camera. Not only had I helped that bastage print his pictures, but I’d gone out and gotten him a father’s day gift as well. And this is what I get for it? Aww (and pardon my french) hell no. He didn’t hide it from my mom, who never takes pictures, or David, or Van… or anyone else… it was me.

I could feel the rage building, but I quickly swallowed it, and took several deep, calming breaths. I helped clean a few things outside, and had just finished eating lunch when Bob came out into the kitchen. Suddenly, I could feel the rage bubbling up all over again at his sugary sweet, “Hey Jen.” and retarded hello wave. He sat at the kitchen table and listened as my mom and I planned the rest of the afternoon. We had planned on going out to get some outfits for a wedding that was coming up and neither of us had anything to wear to it. He was mid-comment to my mother when I said,

“What’s with hiding the camera, Bob?” His reply was a grumpy, “I told you where it was, didn’t I?” and the rage burbled a little more. “Well Bob, that was an awefully nice thing to do, now wasn’t it? And, tell me, after I helped you print all your pictures out, is that when you decided you didn’t want me to use the camera?” He said, “Well, when I look in the cabinet where it’s suppose to be, it’s never there.” Calming breaths, Jenny, calming breaths. “So, you hid it from me?” He turns to my mother now, in hopes she will come to his rescue. “You told me I should always put it in that cabinet.” My mom nods in agreement. “So you hid it?” I ask. He says glaring in his old man grumpiness, “Yes, I put it there so I would know where it was.” A number of expletives began running through my head. “The next time you need help with something, say your printer or ANYTHING, you better hope mom knows how to do it, because I no longer will be helping you. Ever.” Bob’s facial expression didn’t change one bit. No sign of remorse. Trying to choke back other things I wanted to say, I turned to my mom, “Well, I’m going to go brush my hair and then will you be ready to go?” She nodded as she eyed me. My mother is one of the only people on earth that knows when I’m restraining myself.

As I brushed my hair and put it up I thought of other things to try to take my mind off my anger. Unable to manage I went to my room and opened up the chat window Keith and I have open nearly always during the day.

Me: Bob HID the camera from me.
Keith: OH yeah ?
Keithy: what an a$$.
Me: After all the crap I help him with.
Me: He hid it.
Keith: ok presents from Keith on your bday.
Keith: pj’s boxers and camers.
Keith: er camera. bob can go piss off
Me: I told him the next time he wants help from me on something, he can ask my mom, because he’s not getting any more from me.
Keith: I’ll buy you one like mine..
Me: He’s such an a$$.
Keith: no kidding. afk a sec hun

I finished getting ready a little more calmly and quickly got out of the house. I managed to hold in the emotional storm threatening to ruin our shopping trip until the we were on our way home. I said, “Mom, what Bob did today really hurt my feelings.” This is when, unfortunately, my rage and the rest of the hurt feelings surfaced. Mind you, I very rarely swear, but I was dropping the f-bomb. We got to the house at the peek of my anger. I got out of the car and quickly changed into my walking clothes. If I didn’t get OUT of the house I was worried I’d implode. I took a walk at the peek of the hottest day I think I’ve experienced in a while. It was 90-something with 50% humidity. Not good. I cried for most of the walk and was fully drained of any energy by the time I got home, and fully embarrassed having shown that much emotion in public. I got in the shower and redressed, and went outside.

To say the least, I gave my present to my mother for father’s day because I came to the realization that I’ve only really had one parent since my dad died. Bob’s been an indifferent parental figure, and I’m more than happy to keep our relationship that way.

Now, I’m sure by now you think I was totally over-reacting to something as small as a grown adult acting like a child. Unfortunately, that was just one example of my every day life and I’d just had enough of putting myself out on a limb, knowing how callous and self-centered he is, only to get slapped in the face (figuratively) time and time again. As I like to say: fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. No more, Bob.

Speaking of jerks I nabbed this from Tampa Bay’s Channel 10 news.

Free Katie!

Don’t turn away. Your indifference makes you part of the problem. Talk to your children, join in community support groups and please show your support by wearing your Free Katie™ Gear!

Good Stuff

While I was thumbing through a magazine I sometimes indulge in, US Weekly, I came across this picture and was totally disturbed.

What exactly is she doing? Eating his face? Freaky.

Also, while I’m showing amusing pictures. Last year my ex sent me this little stuffed dog that when you press it’s stomach says, “Woof! I love you!” which just made me retch. I stuffed it away somewhere… or actually I think I threw it or something, I can’t remember. In any case, while cleaning out the hallway closet I found it and gave it to its rightful owner. My dog. Now, as she tears it to little peices I don’t mind at all when I hear the muffled, “Woof! I love you!” Infact, it makes me laugh.

Soon it will be a mere rag of it’s former self. I have a fantasy where I send him a picture of it and all I say is “Hahahahaha!” as a message. I know I won’t, but it makes me smile just to think about it. Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she?

Adventures in Blahzvillage

It is SO on.

Don’t get me wrong, I love animals, but this neighborhood cat is SO asking for it. Today after dinner I’m taking my plate to the sink when I happen to look up out the kitchen window and notice him/her in the front yard, tail straight up in the air, crapping. I’m like… aw no you don’t, mudder-feekie!

I run outside and quickly turn on the hose. Aww yeah, … now you’re gonna get it! Then suddenly I’m being pelted in the face by the sprinkler still hooked up to the hose, and the cat is loooooooooong gone. I tried to find it with a squirt bottle in hand, but it was a no go. “Horney” was no where to be found. And yeah, that’s his/her real name. All printed nicely on a heart shaped collar tag.

This cat has jumped out at my mother from under the bushes, frightening our cowardly golden retriever who wound the leash around her, and knocked her straight on her rear.

So poo + blood + tears = WAR. That cat SO has it coming to it. And Jenny’s gonna dish it OUT!

*ahem*

So later on I decide to take a walk. I haven’t been feeling very well and I thought maybe I just needed a little fresh air. It’s been abnormally muggy here lately so I put on a sleeveless shirt only to find that once I got out and started walking that I was a tad chilly. I thought, no bother, I’ll just walk faster and get the blood pumping, that’ll warm me up!

So, about 2.5 miles later I start to really feel gross and we decided to turn around and head back home. Wow, was the wind picking up? Nah. So, we’re passing Huntington Beach when I see this guy get out of his car and come up to another guy. Clearly teenage boys, proven by their retard-like actions. I turn to my mom, who’s jabbering away to my brother on her cell phone and say, “Ooo… a fight!” and she says, “Where?” I point across the street and we decide to stop and watch for a second. One of the slow wits takes off his shirt, cause… ya know… he’s SERIOUS. He’s a MAN. And he didn’t want to get his own blood— err.. the OTHER guys blood all over it! I tug on her arm and say, “We’re adults, lets break it up.” She gives me a look like I’ve grown a third eye. “No! Are you crazy?” I was like, “Mom, you’re far too afraid of people. Those little kids are going to hurt each other.” I yank the phone from her ear as I walk towards the cross-walk and call the local police station. They, in turn transfer me to the rangers.

So, this other guy pulls in, honks horn and makes them break up. Meanie, I wanted to do it! Now I have to wait for a ranger that’s coming and he wants me to explain what was happening. They’re all gone by now and there’s a storm blowing in full force while I stand there waiting for him to arrive. I point out to my mom, “You should go home, it’s too cold and you could just come get me in the car.” But she doesn’t want to leave me because…. I’m only twenty-seven!

The ranger came, blah blah blah… and I then had to drag my mom home in the freezing cold rain.

Yay.

Sh*tty Blog

Wow, I actually put myself to sleep in my chair today reading my own blog.

I can’t decide what is more sad, that I’m writing about falling asleep reading my blog, or that I fell asleep reading it… sitting up… in a chair.

Yeah.

Molly the Mole – Part Two

Yesterday I was at my wits end. Taking care of my parents is starting to get to me like nothing ever has. You think working late is bad? Try having a job that’s 24/7 and every move you make you hear someone ask, “What’re you doing?” or “Where are you going?” The fact that I *LOOK* like a teenager, does not mean I think, or act (ok maybe act sometimes) like one. I digress, but don’t worry I’m sure I’ll talk more about it later.

After reading More Cowbell’s blog today I thought, hrm… I don’t think I’ve updated my Molly “the beloved” Mole story.

Well, the house hasn’t had another mole visitor since Molly’s three appearances. There was something I learned from them, though. Moles are not quiet creatures. In fact, they can be freakin’ frighteningly loud.

My mother has a way about telling me something that really baffles me sometimes. She will call up the stairs to say something like, “Jenny, the cat is watching something.” And I have to take deeeep cleansing breaths so I won’t say something like, “And I care because?” and instead react the way I’m supposed to. On Molly’s third appearance I failed miserably at this.

I was sound asleep, having had a HORRIBLE allergy attack due to the rat dog of my brothers, coupled with his chimney one-right-after-the-other smoking. When my mother calls up the stairs, “Jenny…. are you asleep?” Now, if you’re yelling up the stairs to ask if someone’s asleep, do you really care what the answer is? I’ve never been the kind of person to wake up all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, so my answer was along the lines of, “Well… obviously not anymore.” When she followed that up with, “The cat is watching something.” I nearly lost it. “That’s nice.” I call back. She says “It’s under the stove.” Now, I know we’ve had a few moles (or one really brave/stupid mole) and so not being the typical afraid of all the little creatures type of girl I said, “Well good, she’s doing her job then.” In hopes that she would agree and let me sleep. But… we all know I’m not that lucky.

Instead I had to get up, which was totally killing my benadryl high, and go down and look under the stove. I see abso-freakin’-nothing under the stove and assure her that the cat is likely crazy, or maybe chasing a spider that I don’t see. We go into the living room when all the sudden this ear piercing squeak comes from the kitchen. My immediate reaction is, something is going to blow up and I stare wide-eyed at my mother who is now clearly shaken to the core.

Apparently my cat had her eyes on Molly. Unfortunately, Molly isn’t a very bright little animal, because she ran right by an open door to escape the cat… who wasn’t even giving chase. Moles. *shrug* So, the cat chases her into a closet, but we’re unable to catch it because she had run under a rug… or so we thought. Apparently, while we were setting up the trap for the closet, Molly was running behind the fish tank.

After about 15 minutes I walked upstairs, assured that the Molly would eventually make her way into the trap, like she always did, and that when she did I’d collect her and take her outside. Unfortunately, the cat helped her a little too much and Molly went into some sort of seizure-like state. My mom called me down to witness the poor creature’s antics and I helped Molly into a mug and then put her outside, relatively close to the pond where I’d always put her (or atleast where I put all the other moles). She was doing this roll over and over and over thing and I thought for sure she was fine, but doing that because she was going into some possum-like theatrics to fool me. When my mother informed me that she didn’t see Molly where I had laid her, I was sure that I’d been right. Molly recovered and ran home.

Later that evening while I was cleaning out the pond… yeah. Poor Molly. Though I do know that drowning is supposed to be a very euphoric way to die and just before you go, you feel very calm and happy. Sorry things ended the way they did, Molly, but I’m sure you’re livin’ the life up there in mole Heaven.

I did take a picture of her, but it didn’t come out very well… and it seems sort of morbid now that she’s passed on, so I’ll spare you.