an era is defined as a significant period of time!

It is my long held belief that any life event, big or small, can be related back to Friends. So a few months ago, when Heidi and I decided that we'd both be moving in with BOOOOYYYYS once our lease was up, of course I thought of Monica and Rachel. The parallels are obvious. Monica is a nutso control freak and Rachel is fun and will let you borrow her clothes. I will let you all draw your own conclusions as to who is who.

Heidi and I have lived together for four years now, which blows my mind because the time? Flew by. I know it sounds cliche, but it's true. When we were in college, and it came time for everyone to leave FOREVER, we found it too hard to acknowledge that we were all moving so far away from each other. We reveled in denial and, instead of saying anyone was leaving for good, we simply said they were going to the grocery. They'd totally be right back. It didn't always work and usually ended in tears, but we tried, you know?

So, once again, it's time for Heidi and I to go to the grocery. I'm moving out this Friday.This Friday! It's so soon. I can't really think about it without getting teary which is a problem if I'm, you know, at work. I've lived with quite a few roommates and Heidi is HANDS DOWN the best one I've ever had. Way better than the one I had freshman year, who smelled like an ashtray and used to lock me out so she could have sex with her boyfriend. Heidi will let you borrow her clothes, no questions asked. She'll happily eat cheesecake and cupcakes for dinner with you, and is always ready to watch The Office over a glass of wine. She'll even go with you to meet a stranger from the internet so you don't get axe murdered. And. And! She'll almost always be smiling, no matter how shitty her day was. She has a much better attitude than yours truly and that is a true story.

This is quickly turning into a sapfest, and we can't have that, no we can't, so instead I bring you Heidi and Jennie's Greatest Hits:

On not getting rabies

On (bravely) killing bugs

On books being true (always)

On laughter, the best medicine

On pain

On hot guys, and wasting time

On difficult choices

On roadtrips

On buttsex and Full House

On sickness

On poo

On getting accidentally drunk

On geography

On cooking

On not setting the apartment on fire

On (sister) doin' it for themselves

On engagements

On marriage and Nanomonkeys

On being different, so awfully different

On bags of semen



:-(, you guys, just :-(

STOP. Collaborate and LISTEN.

I sure wish I knew why I've had Ice Ice Baby stuck in my head all morning. Oh well.

The problem with not blogging for HOLY SHIT almost a week (other than my Dad giving me shit for not blogging) is that, by the time I get around to blogging, too much has happened and I don't know where to start. So I just don't write about any of it. No more! I mean, that's really unfair to deprive you of all the details from my every waking hour. And sometimes my non-waking hours. Anyway, this is what I did this weekend:

• went to a going away party for Lampl and Jon
• ate at McAllister's and DRANK SWEET TEA
• tried to play pool
• failed
• drank beers and ate taco dip
• went to the pool
• twice
• went out to dinner
• twice
• went to a cookout
• ate lots of mac and cheese and ribs and broccoli salad
• went to the nature reserve
• did not get eaten by bugs

And, I don't know, other stuff. Memorial Day weekend already seems so long ago. Why is that?

I forgot to tell you guys about this awesome conversation Heidi and I had the other day. It was pretty spectacular. Here is what I remember of it:

Heidi: You know how when we go over the speed bumps in the parking lot, we go sort of between them so only one side of the car goes over them?
Me: Yes.
Heidi: But if there's a car coming from the other direction, we don't do that and we just go over the speed bumps like normal so we don't block the way?
Me: Sure.
Heidi: Well. Remember that girl with the Alaska plates who blocked the dumpster that one time when she was trying to shove a bike in her trunk*?
Me: Yes!
Heidi: Well, I was coming toward a speed bump and she was coming the other way, and she was doing that thing where you go between the speed bumps even though I was there! I had to wait for her to get across.
Me: WTF?
Heidi: I know. It was so rude.
Me: To be fair, she's from Alaska and is used to just driving around igloos.
Heidi: And away from Sarah Palin.
Me: Yeah, because Sarah Palin is shooting at her. From a helicopter.
Heidi: "Oh, look at that moose! I want it for my wall!"
Me: "That sure is a shiny moose!"

Obviously, those last two statements were said in our best Sarah Palin impressions, although my Sarah Palin impression is less a Sarah Palin impression and more a Tina-Fey-as-Sarah-Palin impression, but whatever.

*I hope you have a big trunk . . . cause I'm puttin' my BIKE in it.

tell me again about the rabbits, George

I recently started the Couch to 5K program because I hadn't gone running since, um, way before it was even too cold to go running, and I quit the gym a long time ago so I didn't have access to a treadmill EITHER. That's sort of a lie, because Joe's apartment complex has a fitness room and he said SEVERAL TIMES that I could use it whenever I wanted but I'm far too lazy to do that. So I didn't. Anyway, I'm on Week 2 and it's going well, mostly because weeks 1 and 2 don't involve as much running as the rest of the weeks, which is awesome because sometimes running makes me want to die. Not this program, though. This program is my friend. We go to the mall together and then get ice cream. Ha, just kidding, I hate the mall. Shopping gives me hives.

Anyway. I went running yesterday because OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS, the weather was perfect. Sunny and warm and beautiful. It was a little windy but I'll take it. After I finished the program, I decided to keep walking because I wanted to see the ducks at the pond. I love the ducks. They're so cute! Sometimes when they cross the street to the pond, I get worried that they might get hit and I have conversations like this:

[in Heidi's brand new, shiny car]

Me: Look! Ducks!
Heidi: I like them.
Me: Me too.
Heidi: They're taking a long time to cross.
Me: OMG look how fast that guy is driving! He's not slowing down! He's going to hit the ducks! What if he hits the ducks? OK, he stopped. Good. Otherwise I would have to beat up his car.
Heidi: Wow.

And the day before!

Me: Look! Ducks!
Joe: Wow.
Me: I love ducks.
Joe: OK.
Me: Look at that one! He has a mohawk thing!
Joe: ...
Me: You know what I love best? When ducks put their little ducks butts up in the air. I love that.
Joe: Yep.
Me: Look, more ducks!
Joe: Are you retarded?
Me: I don't think so. I just love ducks, is all.

And SCENE.

crap and cheap wieners

This weekend was grand, it was, the only bad thing being the chilly, chilly weather. And the fact that it ended, of course. They always do, though, so it's not like it was a huge surprise to find myself getting ready for work this morning. It wasn't surprising, oh no, but that doesn't mean I liked it or anything.

It's still rather frigid, but I'm just thankful we didn't get a bunch of snow dumped on us like some other parts of the country. No, that was last year at this time. That was fun, right? No, it was not. It almost ruined Nancy's bachelorette party, but we made the most of it. Also, Mary and I made a snow penis so I can't really say the blizzard was ALL bad.

Heidi and I decided to go to Ikea yesterday because, well, it was Sunday and we had nothing else to do, except maybe watch the America's Next Top Model marathon on Oxygen. It went a little something like this:

Me: I went to some thrift stores yesterday.
Heidi: Yeah?
Me: Yeah. I found some crap. It was awesome.
Heidi: Cool. I like crap.
Me: Me too. We should look for some new crap for our apartment.
Heidi: Yeah, I want to go to that giant thrift store by the Dayton Mall.
Me: I didn't know that was there.
Heidi: It is. I saw a sign on the highway.
Me: We should also go to Ikea.
Heidi: Yes! They have lots of crap!
Me: [watches ANTM]
Heidi: [watches ANTM]
Me: You know. We could just go to Ikea right now.
Heidi: We could!
Me: What else are we going to do?
Heidi: Yeah, we might get bored if we don't go.
Me: So let's go?
Heidi: Yes.

I'm not sure it happened anything like that, but I don't really remember so that's what you get. Anyway, so we went to Ikea and it was magical. I got this. And then I made Joe put it together. I wasn't able to convince him to buy my old desk, though. And then, instead of using my new laptop stand for, you know, my laptop, we played Scrabble on it. It works very well as a Scrabble table, actually. I got some other random crap at Ikea, too, and when I got home I couldn't really remember why I'd gotten it all. That's pretty standard, I think.

The best part about our trip to Ikea was that we got 50 cent wieners from the food area. That's pretty cheap for wieners, in case you were wondering.

and then I fell over

Oh, right, I have a blog. Hi, blog! Sorry I've been neglecting you. The thing is, I don't have time to blog at work and when I say blog at work, of course I mean during my lunch break and not when I'm supposed to be doing actual work. Because I've been spending my lunch break WORKING. Not today, though. Today I spent the first half of my lunch break going to Kroger to get wine and baking sheets (not to use together, though) and now I'm ignoring my phone and email, listening to the Dr. Horrible soundtrack, and BLOGGING. Heh, at first I wrote this: BLOGGIN. Which I think I like better. Anyway.

Heidi got a Wii Fit for Christmas, and last night we hooked it up. Well. Heidi hooked it up. I sat there and watched. To be fair, though, hooking it up meant putting in some batteries and pushing some buttons on the Wii, so I really think I'd have just been in the way if I had tried to help.

The Wii Fit started out by grunting in pain when I stepped on the board. That was nice. And then! It told me I was overweight. Ouch, Wii. That hurts. I mean, it wasn't exactly breaking news or anything, but hearing that I did, in fact, eat too many Christmas cookies and drink too much egg nog (fact: I did not drink any egg nog because . . . gross) was the opposite of fun. I watched Heidi do a balance test and dodge some soccer balls, cleats, and panda heads (what?) and then it was my turn.

Well. I did the balance test and the Wii Fit was all, "WTF? Are you 80? Do you find yourself tripping over stuff a lot?" OK, it really didn't say all that EXCEPT for that last thing BECAUSE IT TOTALLY DID ASK IF I TRIP OVER STUFF. This is when Heidi and Joe almost died laughing FOR REALSIES because the Wii knew how clumsy I am after just one test.

Then. I tried to slalom and it went about as well as it does when I try to for-real ski. I ran into more flags than anything else. Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't fall off the board (although, I did when I tried the step aerobics) and when I finished slaloming (is that a word?), the Wii Fit told me I was unbalanced. Which, duh.

I redeemed myself a bit during the hula hooping, I think. I made it all the way through and spun the shit out of some hula hoops. Sure, a couple hula hoops hit me in the head, but you know . . . baby steps. Anyway, here is something brand new. Conversations Between My Roommate and My Boyfriend:

Heidi and Joe: HAHAHAHAHA JENNIE IS UNBALANCED AND LOOKS FUNNY WHEN SHE HULA HOOPS!
Joe: My favorite part was when the hula hoop hit her in the head.
Heidi: Me too!
Joe: Because I feel like . . . if someone threw a hula hoop at her in real life, that's what would happen.
Heidi: Definitely. I also liked her granny-hula-hooping hand gestures.
Me: Thanks, guys.

Can you feel the love? I can. It's cold and hurty.

A woman shouldn’t have to be hit by a car to learn that she may have rabies.

When I got home from Cleveland on Sunday, our downstairs neighbors (Dan the Man and his daughter) were out on their porch, which is right next to our front door. I noticed something odd as I came up the walkway and that something odd was two baby raccoons. On their porch. Like . . . in a cage.

Me: Um. Are those raccoons?
Daughter: Yep!
Me: Why?
Dan the Man: Well, the mom died so we decided to raise them until we can release them.
Me: Oh. Cool.

Then we had a nice long conversation about how long it takes to raise raccoons and how smart they are and how you can domesticate them and then I got rabies and died.

Oh, wait, that didn't happen. Anyway, I emailed Heidi at work on Monday and was all, "did you know our neighbors are keeping raccoons on the porch?" and she was all, "WHAT?!" and I said, "yes, raccoons . . . on the porch . . . and they are smelly." And then Heidi sacked up and called the apartment complex. Naturally, since I was at my office and Heidi was at her office, I could not hear the conversation, but I was told it went something like this:

Heidi: Hi, I was walking by an apartment and they have raccoons on their porch.
Office Lady: Say that again?
Heidi: They have raccoons on their porch.
Office Lady: On purpose?
Heidi: Yes. In a cage.
Office Lady: Why?
Heidi: I don't know.
Office Lady: Who does that?
Heidi: Our neighbors.
Office Lady: Which apartment are you in?
Heidi: 5699*
Office Lady: Is this Heidi or Jennie?
Heidi: Heidi.
Office Lady: You guys have the weirdest stuff happen to you**.

Then she told Heidi that they'd be gone within a day. And today they are gone. I wish I knew what happened to them. I feel bad because I didn't want them killed or anything, but if anyone in the apartment complex is going to accidentally get infected with rabies, it's gonna be me or Heidi. I mean, we had to take precautions.

*note: not our actual apartment number

**see: broken garbage disposal; upside-down oven knob; broken toilet; broken front door lock

QUACK

It stormed so hard last night (this morning?) that the world ended for a few minutes, but don't worry. It was just for a few minutes, not even five minutes, and nothing really bad happens if the world only ends for a few minutes. True story. And by true I mean I don't have any idea what I'm talking about.

It DID storm so hard that the world ended for a couple of traffic lights this morning. What? You think traffic lights don't know they live in the world? You think they don't have feelings? Well, they do. They go red when they're angry, green when they're happy, and yellow when they're constipated. And YES constipated is a feeling. You think they turn colors for any other reason? You're wrong. Deal with it. There's something really disconcerting about a traffic light being completely dark. Mostly because I don't trust other people to not barrel through the intersection and kill me, kill me dead. No one did, though. But since there were two traffic lights that were out and I was on my way to work, I naturally assumed that my office building wouldn't have power when I got there. Because that's logical. Only not, because my office building totally had power and ALSO they expected me to work. PSHAW.

I wish it had been storming last night when Heidi and I decided to go running. But we had to run, for you see, we had Penn Station for dinner. That was the deal. We could have Penn Station, but we had to run. Right as we started, I was all, "didn't we decide not to run anymore after eating Penn Station because it makes us want to vomit?" and Heidi was all, "um, yeah, oops." Um, yeah, oops, indeed. I felt like vomiting after running about five steps, at which point I wanted to be done for the evening, but running five steps doesn't seem beneficial. Although, if I would just start with a five step run and add five steps to my run every day, that'd probably work better than my current running schedule, which is "run a couple miles four times a month and try not to pass out or throw up or die." Ah, well.

I don't think the run helped our stomachs OR our brains, because during our cool down lap around the pond, this happened:

Heidi: I've counted four tennis balls in the pond so far!
Me: Man, those people aren't very good tennis players.
Heidi: Seriously.
Me: Do you think our pink tennis ball is still down there?
Heidi: I hope so. I hope the ducks play with it.
Me: The ducks play tennis?
Heidi: Yeah, they use their bills as tennis rackets.
Me: Plus, they can fly, so that helps.
Heidi: Wanna know how they serve?
Me: YES.
Heidi: They put the ball in their mouth and just throw it.
Me: Wow. Do the ducks play doubles tennis?
Heidi: Totally. They play against the geese.
Me: The geese! I hope the ducks win, I hate the geese!
Heidi: Of course the ducks win. They're the Mighty Ducks.
Me: Awesome.
Heidi: Nine! I counted NINE tennis balls now!

And then were were all, "quack . . . quack . . . quack . . . QUACK . . . QUACK . . . QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK," only not really, but I wish that'd happened. I mean, I don't think it's possible for our neighbors to think we're any weirder. After all, there was that time we threw a spoon in the pond and Heidi's underwear in a tree. Also, that time I got chased by a zombie.

F-O-X

The greatest thing ever happened to me last night. EVER. It was amazing. After $1 burgers and $2 drafts at Bar Louie last night, Nancy dropped a bombshell. I don't remember what we were talking about, but at some point she nonchalanted, "oh, I bought Rock Band."

We were all HOLD THE PHONE (what?). Nancy bought Rock Band? Nancy bought Rock Band. For Wii. Unfortunately, it was still in the box, but once we got to Nancy's, we made quick work of that. The drums are white for Wii Rock Band, unlike the black drums for XBox (is it XBox?) because Wii is racist. Trust me. Just play Rayman and keep your eye out for all the sleeping Mexicans. I wish I was kidding BUT I'M NOT.

Aaaaaaanyway, once the game was set up and I'd put the game disc in the right way (harder than it sounds), the band tour started, with Heidi on bass. At which point this happened, and made me the happiest girl in all the land:

Heidi: It's not working . . . seriously, why isn't it showing that I hit the right color?
Me: Is the guitar on?
Heidi: Yeah!
Me: I dunno then.
Heidi: IT'S NOT WORKING. WHAT THE HELL? ARRRRRRG!
Nancy: That's weird.
Heidi: I'm hitting the right color, WHY ISN'T IT SHOWING THAT I HIT IT?
Nancy: Um, are you strumming?
Heidi: . . . no?
All: BWAAHAAHAAHAAAA!

Seriously, you guys, I don't think I've ever laughed so hard EVER EVER IN MY LIFE. Ahem. I love you, Heidi.

This morning, when I left for work, I looked in the little patch of grass next to our steps and noticed something odd. Two 40s hanging out together, because apparently I'm back at Wittenberg. I think some college kids moved into the apartment next to us. This annoys me. Now that I'm not longer in college, I find most college students and the activities they participate in to be extremely annoying. I'm all, "you kids get off my lawn!" You know. Stuff like that. It's not that I no longer like to go out and act all crazy (see: Thanksgiving Miracle, Philadelphia, St. Patrick's Day, every trip to Chicago ever, tonight's bachelorette party (probably)), it's just that the times I do go out act like a booze-soaked psychopath are few and far between. Not because I don't like to drink anymore (heh), but because I'd rather sit at home in my pajamas and drink while watching a movie or playing Wii or whatever. I'm simple. I don't like wearing real pants, what can I say?

I don't know where I was going with that. Let's move on, shall we?

I went running the other night for the first time in like a week, because I SUCK, and as I was running, I noticed a little girl tottering down the driveway a few houses in front of me. She was about two or three (I don't know), and as she walked onto the sidewalk, going the same direction I was running, her mom, about 87 months pregnant, waddled after her.

Waddler: Come back, sweetie!
Runaway Girl: Heeheeheehee!

I kept running and eventually caught up to the little girl.

Runaway: Hi!
Me: Hello!
Runaway: Hi!
Me: . . . hi!
Runaway: I'm going to run with you.
Me: OK!

So then she started running after me. Away from her mother. This child was chasing me! CHASING ME! What if it followed me home and never left? I think that's how it happens. So, when I noticed she wasn't stopping and that her mother couldn't really run after her, I turned around and ran back toward her house.

Me: Let's run this way now!
Runaway: OK!
Me: Good job! Keep going!
Runaway: Hi, mommy!

And that's when her mom grabbed her and the runaway started crying. I totally tricked her, which is sort of comforting because sometimes I get worried that I might be stupider than a toddler.

nobody ever told her it's the wrong way

Last night, a while after Heidi had gone to get her manicure (I was invited, but (and I know this will surprise you) I decided not to go), my phone rang.

Heidi: Hi.
Me: Hi.
Heidi: Do you want meet us at Bar Louie?
Me: Bar Louie?
Heidi: Yeah, we're gonna get dinner and drinks.
Me: Awesome, I'll be right up.

And up I went, because not only had I written my 300 words for the day, but I'd ALSO written an article. I mean, I would have gone up there anyway, but I felt far less guilty since I'd actually done some work. And you guys? If you thought the 123 GoBox was good, just HOLD ONTO YOUR MINDS BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO BLOW THEM. Wow, that is like the poorest choice of words EVER and you'd think I'd delete them and write something else but YOU'D BE WRONG. Get used to it. Um, right. So, Bar Louie was having a special. One. Dollar. Hamburgers. And not like those pussy, little sliders from White Castle, either. Real-sized hamburgers. The toppings all cost like 50 cents extra but who cares? The hamburger (plus bun) was only $1. Which made up for the fact that our beers cost $6. But whatever, who cares, that beer was delicious.

I have no idea what my point is, except that if your friends call and ask if you want to come to the bar, you always say yes. Because you will be rewarded in hamburgers. Cheap, delicious hamburgers.

Also, beer.

It’s so watery. And yet there’s a smack of ham to it.

Yesterday afternoon, while I was sitting around at work, waiting for someone to tell me I could go home early, I opened Google Reader to find that Kat had shared a recipe.

Sidenote: if that sentence didn't make sense, it's because you're not using Google Reader and if you're not using Google Reader, I have to ask, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

Anyway, this is the recipe: Wiener Water Soup. Yes, you read that correctly. Wiener Water Soup. It gets even funnier when you read the ingredients:

1 pkg. wieners
3 c. water

And it gets even FUNNIER when you read the instructions:

Combine wieners and water in a two quart saucepan. Bring to a boil until wieners are cooked. Throw the wieners in the garbage. Serve soup. Serves 3.

You guys, I'm not kidding, when I read this, I had to take a moment. I laughed so hard, I was crying and I was terrified, TERRIFIED, that someone would walk past my office, because I had my head down on my desk and I was clutching my stomach because OH, THE LAUGHTER, IT HURTS! Even now, as I sit here by myself on the sofa, I am laughing SO HARD. Every time I think of it, I start laughing. WIENER WATER SOUP. Something about the combination of those words makes me LOSE MY FREAKING MIND. AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

Ahem. I'm going to try to compose myself. So, soon after the Wiener Water Soup (HAHAHAHAHA) episode, someone came around and was all, "you guys can leave at 4," and that's all I needed to hear. I called Heidi on my way out, because I am an asshole who likes to rub my good fortune RIGHT IN YOUR FACE. We talked a while about the Wiener Water Soup, but the topic soon shifted quite a bit:

Me: I have to go pick up my anti-baby pills.
Heidi: Yeah, that's important.
Me: Do you think if I talked to the doctor, she'd give me a hysterectomy?
Heidi: Um, no, I don't think if you talked to the doctor, she'd give you a hysterectomy.
Me: Fine, then I'll go get one in Mexico.
Heidi: Good idea. But what happens in ten years when you decide you want kids?
Me: Ew. And anyway, I'll just freeze some eggs.
Heidi: OK. Are you just gonna go down there and be like, "hey, you on the side of the road, are you a doctor?"
Me: Yes. As long as he has a van.
Heidi: Hahaha.
Me: "His van was so clean!"
Heidi: "He used Purell!"
Me: "And I saw him wash his hands, WHAT MORE DO I NEED?"
Heidi: This is foolproof.
Me: Indeed. On that note, I'm gonna go.

True story. Only I probably won't go to Mexico to get a hysterectomy. Because, duh, I'd go to Canada.