my eyes, MY EYES

I went to the eye doctor this morning, which I don't really mind, because the eye doctor is my favorite of all of the doctors. Eye appointments are the only medical appointments that I can go to and not feel like I've been molested in some way afterward. I mean, at the dentist, they poke at your tender, pink gums with sharp, metal objects and at the gyno they...well, let's just say it's similar to the dentist but they poke you in a different part of the body. And WHO KNOWS what might happen to you at the regular doctor. First they get you in that paper gown and then you are at their mercy.

So anyway, the eye doctor. The only thing I hate about going to the eye doctor is that there's a test. And as a former overachiever, who had to NOT ONLY get the best grade in the class but also finish her test before anyone else, I find this stressful. A or B? One or two? Is the first one better, or the last one? I DON'T KNOW LEAVE ME ALONE. Sometimes I think the doctor is totally messing with me, too. Like, she'll flip between two different lenses and be like, "is the first one better or the second?" and THEY ARE TOTALLY THE SAME. And then she'll make some comment like, "I bet the last one is pretty blurry," and I think, "OMG I FAIL I FAIL I NEED TO START OVER," and then I freak out and start Hulk-smashing all of the equipment and they ask me to put my credit card on the counter and back slowly out of the building.

Just kidding, that only happened once.

I decided to go to the eye doctor, even though I was pretty sure my prescription hadn't changed, so I could get contacts for the wedding. I've had contacts in the past, but the last time they ran out I just...didn't go get more. I figured I'd get them soon and that was, um, two or three years ago. OOPS. My eyesight is not that bad, so I really only wear my glasses at the movies, while driving, and sometimes while watching TV. However. I do not want to wear my glasses all day for the wedding, because eventually I get sick of them and want to rip them off of my face and stomp on them. And if I don't wear them, well, everything will be sort of pleasantly fuzzy but I figured I might want to be able to see Joe's face from the other end of the aisle so CONTACTS IT IS.

I meant to post this hours ago but then I saw something shiny and forgot (plus also! grace in small things: day 8)

I think many of us can agree that 2009 has gotten off to a rocky start. Early on in January, when it looked like 2009 was kicking some of my friends square in the face, I theorized that MAYBE 2009 was following that saying about March: In like a lion, out like a lamb. So rest easy, friends. 2009 may suck right now, but by December, you will be swimming in pools of chocolate or money or Hannah Montana dolls or whatever other weird thing you kids are into these days. Also, playing with lambs, if I'm understanding that saying correctly.

I don't know what to expect from this weekend, since it is both the last day of January and the first day of February, but I have high hopes. High, I say! My hopes, not me. Which brings me to my five things for the day:

1. chocolate covered pretzels
2. I have a dinner date with Joe
3. and then later a drinking date with Heidi
4. and then tomorrow morning, I will sleep in
5. and then drink coffee and eat peanut butter toast and hang out in my pajamas watching bad TV and reading

And then, you know, I will shower and get dressed and stuff. Not that I wouldn't love hanging out in my pajamas all day, reading and watching bad TV. Not that I HAVEN'T hung out in my pajamas all day, reading and watching bad TV. I mean, that's basically what I did on Wednesday, only I did get dressed for a little bit and I spent an hour banging ice off my car (that counts as exercise) and also Jillian killed me and really, I don't consider The Biggest Loser bad TV. Anyway. Where was I?

Right. Tomorrow we are celebrating The Birth of Steve (Lampl and Jon will be there!) and then on Sunday, I'm going to my parents' to watch The Super Bowl. Not because I care about the game (pshaw) but because I whined so much about wanting them to make spicy chili that they finally caved, and also I'm going to try and convince them that we should watch The Puppy Bowl instead of football.

So, you know, here are the good things I have going on this weekend: Joe, Heidi, Steve, Lampl, Jon, coffee, peanut butter, pajamas, bad TV, reading, parents, sister, beer, chili, puppies playing football. Please be nice, January.

I don't even know, you guys

You know, earlier I was looking at my shoes and I realized they look sort of like Pilgrim shoes. Like, if I was going to dress up like a Pilgrim, and I could only use materials that I already owned, I would definitely wear these shoes. You might be asking yourself, "But Jennie, why would you ever want to dress up like a Pilgrim?" and I am here to tell you . . . I don't know. But I'm sure there are occasions to dress up like Pilgrim. Let's see. There's Halloween, for sure. I know Halloween is over, but it's never too early to start planning for next year. Or perhaps your family is totally weird and you dress up like Pilgrims and Indians for Thanksgiving. That could be fun, actually, but make sure it's accurate. After the Thanksgiving meal, you should kill a couple of the Indians by giving them smallpox or something. Just make sure one of your least favorite relatives dresses up like an Indian. That way you wouldn't have to listen to Uncle Bob's stories about his spastic colon at Christmas, and that's beneficial to everyone.

You know, I actually have dressed up like a Pilgrim before. We had Pioneer Day once in 6th grade and I realize those aren't EXACTLY the same thing, but I'm not sure my teacher knew that. I distinctly remember making Pilgrim hats, and then wearing a long, flowy skirt and a really uncomfortable button-up shirt, so no one would think I was a witch (read: whore) and burn me at the stake. That would be uncomfortable.

ACTUALLY, I think my shoes look more like witch shoes. Plus, I have on striped socks, just like the Wicked Witch of the East wore when she got crushed by Dorothy's flying house. And I'm sort of mean, so it totally fits.

It's curtains for you, Dr. Horrible. Lacy, gently wafting curtains.

Hello, Internets. I barely have the energy to type this. I'm just . . . so . . . tired.

Heh. I'm really on edge right now, because they're doing some construction or something downstairs and they're drilling and it sounds like the loudest fart ever. Like, say someone farted so loud that your head exploded? That's how loud the drilling is, only my head hasn't exploded yet because drilling doesn't make heads explode, only farting does.

This morning I watched Saved by the Bell as I was getting ready for work. It was the one where Zach hires Screech to tutor Kelly so Kelly will pass her test and take Zach to see George Michael. That sounds really complicated, doesn't it? No. It doesn't. What's wrong with you? Anyway, Kelly goes over to Screech's house and he has a robot in his room named Kevin who is sort of a rip off of Johnny 5. But then again, so is Wall-E. WHAT? I love Wall-E, too, but COME ON. He looks like the love child of Johnny 5 and E.T. and if you think Johnny 5 and E.T. never got it on, then you are sorely mistaken. They had a brief, illicit affair in the hills of Montana one summer. Does Montana have hills? IRRELEVANT.

Um. Right. I thought it would be fun to recap an episode of Saved by the Bell, but I didn't get to finish watching the one this morning, because my boss says that I can't call in late to work just because I want to finish watching a TV show. Even if it's Saved by the Bell. If I'd seen the whole episode, though, I'd recap the shit out of it. I don't remember what happens in that one, even though I've seen every episode of Saved by the Bell at least three times. AT LEAST. Remember that time Tori Spelling was on that show? What the hell?

Anyway, so my point is, I saw two movies this weekend. What do you mean that has nothing to do with Saved by the Bell? ZIP YOUR LID. I saw The Dark Knight, which was as amazing as everyone said it would be. I also saw Mamma Mia!, which made me want to rip out my eyeballs and shove them in my ears so I wouldn't have to experience that cinematic Armageddon any longer. Yikes, you guys, that movie was ten shades of awful. It hurts me to say that about a movie Mr. Darcy was in, but that's how bad the movie was. SO BAD. You know what made up for it, though? Dr. Horrible's Sing-a-long Blog. I hope you watched it. If you didn't, I hope you had a good excuse, like you were feeding hungry orphans melted chocolate from an eye dropper or something.

you build the ark, I'll gather the animals

The weather the past two days has been extremely, and there's no other word for it, shitty. It rained all day yesterday, from the moment I walked out the door to go to work to when I got in my car at the end of the day to go to volunteering. The sky glared at me all, "WHAT? I'm RAINING! You don't like it? You think I care? WHATEVER, WHATEVER, I DO WHAT I WANT."

I was worried because last night was the final volunteering night before we go on hiatus for the summer, sort of like TV shows and my friend Nancy the Teacher. And on the last night of volunteering, the kids get to do a balloon launch. They write letters to their lost loved ones, tie them to balloons and let them fly, fly away. I'm trying to focus on how happy this makes the kids and not on the fact that once the balloon pops and falls to the Earth, some poor bird is probably going to choke and die on it. Focus on the happy, focus on the happy, look! look! something shiny!

The rain, though? The rain was threatening to KILL the balloon launch. So imagine my delight as I drove to the volunteering site and the sky became clearer and clearer. And as I sat in my car, waiting for someone else to get there and unlock the door (I'm always early), THE SUN CAME OUT. And it stayed out UNTIL WE WERE DONE WITH THE LAUNCH. It was a miracle. A balloon launch miracle. Poor birds.

Unfortunately, as I drove home from volunteering, the sky got angry again. When I got home, Heidi was making a nutritious dinner. I was hungry, too, so I made chips and salsa with M&Ms for dessert. As we sat down to eat, the tornado sirens started. "Le sigh," I thought, and looked longingly at my salsa. So spicy. So delicious. I turned on the news to see a furious, red blotch hovering over our town. Heidi was all, "is it bad?" and I was like, "no, no, it's just a tornado warning," and she said, "um . . . " and I answered, "oh, RIGHT, a tornado warning is the bad one." We don't really have a safe place to go in our apartment since we're on the second floor. Unless we go down to the first floor and cower in the coat closet, but cowering isn't really my thing, especially when I have chips and salsa in front of me. So we just sat on the sofa, ate our dinner, listened to the sirens, and watched the weatherman freak out all over the place.

It was fine. It stormed really badly for the rest of the night. The thunder was so loud that it woke me up (not a great accomplishment) but ALSO, it shook my entire room and made me hide under the covers. I didn't so much sleep as lie half-awake wondering if lightening could strike me through my window. I'm a little worried that this sleep-deprivation is causing hallucinations, because on the way to work I saw someone with an umbrella off in the distance and my first thought was not, "gee, it would suck to have to walk to work in this," it was, "OMG, it's Mary Poppins!"