if my brain could throw up, this is what it would look like

Did you know that you can only listen to 40 hours of Pandora a month? I didn't. Until I apparently reached my limit, which I did today. I thought at first that 40 hours was really impressive but I don't think it is. I have Pandora on most of the time at work, so that's an easy 40 hours right there. In a week, even.

At first I was really worried because WHAT WOULD I DO FOR MUSIC? I found out that we can hear the music from shows in our offices during rehearsals and showtime but there aren't any shows right now. And I always forget my iPod at home, or if I do remember it, it's not charged and don't ask me where my charger is because I DON'T KNOW I DON'T EVER KNOW. But whatever, don't worry (I know you were worried), I paid 99 cents and now I can listen to Pandora for the rest of the month and my limit starts over in September. Can you imagine, though? No music at work? To miss out on the joy that is Part of Your World popping up after, like, Radiohead or something? No thank you.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Who knows. How many times have I typed "what am I talking about?" on my blog might be a better question only probably not really because the answer is DUH A LOT. Guess what we did last night? Guess. I SAID GUESS. No, but seriously, folks, we put an offer on a house last night. I wasn't going to say anything because I was afraid of jinxing it but we didn't say anything LAST time we put an offer on a house and we still didn't get it so I am throwing caution to the wind. Here, wind! Take it! Take all the caution! I don't even want it anyway!

So, yeah, we met our realtor after work to sign all the paperwork and did you know putting on offer on a house is kind of a big deal? Because I guess it is. There's a contract and you have to hand over a check and everything. I signed my name a bunch of times and didn't even hyperventilate once! That will happen when and if we end up getting the house and I then realize we just bought this giant thing where millions of things could go wrong and we won't have a landlord to call anymore. OMG WHAT HAVE WE DONE.

No, seriously, it's fine. It'll be really nice if we get it because there's a giant backyard, all for Max, which is great because he refuses to use the litter box, unless he's sneaking into it to steal cat poop. We mentioned the cat-poop-thievery to the vet when she suggested putting Max on a diet (he's packed on a few pounds...don't mention it to him, he's sensitive) and I was all, "I think he's hungry because he got in the litter box the other day and hardly ever does that," and she was like, "Oh, yeah, he's not hungry, he's just stealing Kitty Cookies, lol. Cat poop is like dessert to dogs." It was an informative visit, is what I'm saying.

Anyway, there was an earthquake today, too, so that's weird. I mean, it wasn't IN Ohio but I certainly felt it in Ohio. We don't usually get earthquakes here but this one time when I was in 3rd grade they were worried about some giant earthquake that was supposed to hit (I don't know the details because I was 9, but it probably had something to do with the Hellmouth being in Cleveland) BUT ANYWAY we had to have earthquake drills and that consisted of sitting under our desks, which doesn't really seem that safe but whatever, I don't know about surviving an earthquake, only about surviving tornadoes and MORE IMPORTANTLY zombies. Did you know this entire paragraph was only two sentences? Well, three now. Four. Five. Shit.

You guys, WHAT is this post even about? You know what the problem is? I started it yesterday morning and now it is today evening and guess what I don't even care, I'm posting it anyway, non-sensicalness and all. For what is life without a little non-sensicalness? Besides more sensical and stuff. But who wants that? I can't decide how to end this but I need to go watch some Mad Men reruns until it's time to go to bed so BYE.

"Now, the reason they do that, we think, is because poop stinks."

I think a lot of people resist listening to NPR because they think it's inaccessible or too liberal or, well, boring. And yeah, sometimes, if I try to listen to it on the way to work, I nod off a little bit but WHATEVER maybe I shouldn't listen to quiet-talking when I'm driving if I haven't had any coffee yet. 

Anyway. I feel sorry for the people who resist NPR because they think it's boring. Because, duh, it's not. You can tell me it is, but you'd be wrong, and I can prove it. 

The other day, I was in the car, listening to Excursions and they took a break from the music to talk about SCIENCE. Science is hardly ever boring, you guys. Science is messy and disgusting and AWESOME. For instance, I give you THIS. I highly recommend you listen to the audio.

In case you're thinking about not clicking that link, I'll give you a SPOILER. It's about caterpillars who can shoot poop out of their butts, sort of like a poop cannon. 

Poop! Out of their butts! COME ON. 

“If you don’t like what’s being said, change the conversation.”

So remember all that hail we got during the tornado? OMG REMEMBER THE TORNADO? Ahem. Joe's car was damaged, obviously, because it was pelted by about a billion golf ball-sized pieces of ice, so it's in the shop being fixed right now. It's good timing, because I have another week or so of blissful unemployment, so I can drive him to and from work. It's really cutting into my sleeping in schedule, as well as my sitting around, doing nothing schedule, because I know I have to be showered and dressed by 4:30 so I can go pick him up. Those of you who have been unemployed for an extended period of time understand how it can be difficult to accomplish such a small feat as SHOWERING before 4:30 in the afternoon, especially when you have a bunch of episodes of Friday Night Lights to watch. ANYWAY.

It's been kind of nice, because we're stuck in the car together for at least forty minutes a day, with no internet or TV or ADORABLE PUPPY to distract us, so it's prime talking time. Except that, in the morning anyway, he's still half-asleep and I haven't had any coffee yet, so our conversations are less than stellar. Like, this morning, we had a conversation (I...actually I wouldn't even call it a conversation) that consisted of each of us saying "WHAT?" over and over in different ways.

Allow me to explain. Do you watch Mad Men? Why don't you watch Mad Men? Anyway, Don Draper, he says "what" a lot. See:



Now. Do you watch Doctor Who? WHY THE HELL DON'T YOU WATCH DOCTOR WHO? Anyway. The 10th Doctor? He of The Tennant? He also says "what" a lot, in funny ways. Unfortunately, no one has put all of them together in one video so here:



and



So, right, our conversation went something like this:

Jennie: [babbling about something stupid]
Joe in Don Draper voice: WHAT.
Jennie in Don Draper voice: What?
Joe in Doctor voice: WHAAAT?
Jennie in Doctor voice: WHAT.
Both: WHAT? OKAAAAAY. 

And so on and so forth. For like five minutes.

We found out yesterday that, even though his car was supposed to be done by now, it might be another week or so. At first I was all, "WHAAAAAAAT? NO MORE GETTING UP EARLY FOR NO RAISIN!" but I do enjoy our nonsensical conversations first thing in the morning. So maybe it's good that we'll have another week of them. WHAT.

The birds, the bees and the monkey babies, Mulder.

You guys, I think Max might have PTSD. See, he's terrified of thunderstorms, right? I feel like this is well-documented...on this blog. But anyway. We didn't have him last year during the July 4th festivities but we assumed that he'd be afraid of fireworks since they make even bigger BOOM FUN noises than thunderstorms.

We discovered that, yes, he is just as terrified of firecracker booms as thunder booms when we were out walking one night (Independence Day Eve Eve or something) and someone set off some amateur fireworks because of course they did. Max stopped for a moment, looked at us in abject terror, and then took off as fast as his little legs could carry him. But he was mostly fine after a bit because they had been far away so they were just little booms.

We decided to walk him around before ten on July 4th, because the real fireworks started at ten and we knew we would never get him outside at that time. We thought we were safe. We were wrong. Because some jackhole in the block of condos next to us set off a huge, esplodey firework just as we had Max to that point. Oh my god, you guys, I thought he was going to reach light speed, such was his haste to get back inside. We couldn't even get him to pee, which was a problem, because we have him on a very strict pee and poo schedule. We talk about Max's poop (or lack thereof) at least five times a day. It's weird. Such is the joy of pet ownership. Anyway.

I tried to take him on another walk that night, after the fireworks were over, but he would barely come out the front door. He went out long enough to pee and then he raced back inside like there were bombs falling outside, which I guess maybe he thought there were? I felt so bad, though! He looked so sad and pathetic so I just gave him extra treats and cuddles.

I thought that would be the end of it, but every night we walk him around nine o'clock, which is the same time he almost got blown up in a firecracker. We try to take him on the usual path, and it happens to be the same path we took him on the night of July 4th. I thought this would be no problem. I mean, dogs don't really have long memories, right? But he won't even go that way! He will during the day, he's fine, but he refuses to walk that way at night. Do you think he thinks there will be another FIRECRACKER BOOM EXPLOSION? But yeah, that's how he got PTSD.

This is (very) slightly related, but I'm trying to convince Joe that we need to get a pet pig. He was all, "we can get a pet pig after we have a baby," but I think he's just saying that because he hopes that if I have a cute baby, I won't want a cute pig but that's not true at all because I'll probably just want a cute pig even MORE because a pig (probably) won't pee and poop on me, PLUS BONUS it will make adorable oinking noises AND will have a curly tail. If I get a baby with a tail, I'm gonna be pissed.

But my point is (I guess) that it should go: Dog, Pig, Baby. Like, obviously, you get a dog before you have a baby because you have to make sure you can keep another living thing (besides yourself) alive. But I think you should get a pig between the dog and the baby because a pig is a pet like a dog but it's pink and hairless like a baby so it's the perfect transition between a dog and baby. I mean, it's practically a baby. It's a practice baby! Anyway, I think Joe's just worried that if I get a pig, why would I want a baby? Actually, that's a really valid point.

Whatever. Did you know you can adopt pigs from Petfinder? Don't tell Joe.

My own personal Avengers

Sometimes I feel like I spent most of my day wishing I was best friends with some fictional person or another. I spend the rest of the day wondering which fictional characters I would want on my side in a fight. Not just a fight fight, like with general fisticuffs and whatnot, but a fight with an alien or a vampire or GOD FORBID a battle with a rising zombie army. I mean, sure, I would love to hang out with Bridget Jones or Jo March but I don't think either one of them is going to be that great at helping me kill a werewolf. I think Jo would be game and would probably put a lot of effort into it, but I'm not sure that, between the two of us (Bridget, obviously, would be cowering under a table somewhere, clutching a bottle of vodka), we'd be able to overpower and defeat a werewolf. Maybe a regular wolf, a wereless wolf, but a werewolf? We'd get out throats ripped out.

That's why I've been gathering fictional fighters for my own personal protection squad. These are not necessarily people I'd want to hang out with in my spare time (ahemBUFFY), although I would LOVE to hang out with some of them in, like, all of my spare time (ahemTHE DOCTOR) but ANYWAY, my point is, I think all of them would be able to protect me from zombies, and really, isn't that all you want out of your friends bodyguards? Yes. Besides, despite even my most logical arguments, Joe won't let me get a gun so I can protect us during the inevitable zombie apocalypse that is probably going to happen any second now, so this personal protection squad is totally necessary until Joe caves.

Starbuck 

Pros: Is a badass, knows how to use a lot of different weapons, can come back from the dead (or something)

Cons: Is drunk all the time

Hermione Granger   

Pros: Knows all the magic, cool under pressure

Cons: Is usually pretty busy saving Ron and Harry

Buffy Summers 

Pros: Can protect against vampires and other demony things

Cons: So whiny

Ellen Ripley 

Pros: Will come in handy if the scariest aliens ever attack Earth

Cons: Is dead, I think? I can't remember what happened in the last movie(s).

Batman 

Pros: Has lots of gadgets, cool car, own sidekick, is a self-made superhero TAKE THAT SUPERMAN

Cons: Has that weird, growly voice thing going on right now

Fox Mulder 

Pros: Has seen a lot of crazy shit, knows about paranormally things, I would probably get to hang out with Scully, too

Cons: Drops his gun all the time, has tendency to die a lot

The Doctor  

Pros: has a sonic screwdriver, comes with a variety of companions PLUS sexy TARDIS, can regenerate if necessary
Cons: NONE

DEAR SELF, STOP NOT-BLOGGING ALL THE DAMN TIME

Oh hi! So I see I forgot to blog again for a bajillion years. Oopsies. It's just that I feel like I shouldn't be blogging about nothing which is stupid because THAT'S ALL THIS BLOG IS, also sometimes I feel like all I do is complain but I don't want to complain all the time which is a problem because these are the only things I can think to blog about:

1. Job Searching = SOUL CRUSHING, which, no, actually it hasn't been all that bad but I think I'm only saying that because I'm not job searching right now. If I had been job searching in the last five minutes, I probably wouldn't be able to write this because I would have ripped my eyeballs out, is all I'm saying.

2. IT'S SO DAMN HOT. How hot is it? SO DAMN HOT, I JUST SAID THAT PAY ATTENTION.

3. I'm siiiiiiiiiick. The jury is still out on whether I have/had strep throat but the doctor gave me yummy antibiotics anyway and they only cost $5! That's $25 less than what my old birth control used to cost me A MONTH! I don't think there's any correlation there* but that was my first thought.

Um, OK, so that's it. What else have I been doing, you might ask if you're polite. Well. I can tell you that I've watched a lot of TV. We finished Battlestar Galactica, which I enjoyed but didn't Lost-love. Or Doctor-Who-love. Anyway. I was slightly underwhelmed by the finale but that may have had something to do with the fact that I felt like complete and utter ass when we watched it. Also, I have this theory about watching shows all at once on Netflix or DVD or whatever versus watching them live as the show airs. There's something special about having to wait an entire summer to find out what happens to all of your BFFs favorite TV characters that just cannot be recaptured by watching a show on DVD.

I've also been watching a shitload of Friday Night Lights because did you know that show is awesome? Pajiba pretty much fellates this show ON THE REGULAR but I'd never watched it because...I can't remember why now. Maybe because I don't like football? I don't know. I blame Dawson. I'm almost done with the first season and I cannot stop watching it. Like, I will lose hours to this show, which is awesome because there are a lot of hours in the day when you don't have a job, did you know that?

Unfortunately, I haven't had a TON of time to watch it because I've been keeping myself pretty busy with various errands, volunteering, cleaning, and WRITING. That's right, I said WRITING. I'm in this secret society writing group that's KIND OF a big deal. If anyone is still interested, let me know. I think we'll welcome pretty much anyone who isn't a big meanie poophead.

*Although when I told my mom I was going to the doctor because I'd had a sore throat and a fever for a few days, her first words were, "you don't think there's a chance you're pregnant, right?" WHAT.

show me that smile again

I went to Zumba (yes, ZUMBA) on Saturday for the first time. While I spent several songs marching in the wrong direction and flailing my arms about wildly, I enjoyed it and I'm going back tonight. It tricks you into exercising and it turns out exercising is good for you. Who knew? Anyway, the plus side of going to this Zumba class is that there's no set cost, it's all just donations to the instructor, AND it's really close to my house. The negative is that it's at a church, not that that's bad, but there are some churchy elements. Like scripture reading before the class starts (but it's short) and I'm pretty sure there were one or two Christian rock songs played during the class, but I was too busy trying not to run into people or fall down to really notice. This said, I don't really care because while I am not churchy, I do not begrudge others their churchiness (I don't know).

AND. The instructor told us before the class started that Kirk Cameron was coming to give a talk about marriage or preparing for the End Times or something, I don't know, I wasn't really listening because I was too busy mouthing, "OMG MIKE SEAVER MIKE SEAVER!" to Nancy while my 18-year-old cousin just stared at us blankly because I'm pretty sure she doesn't know who Mike Seaver is. The shame, the shame.

Anyway, I'm trying to decide if it's worth the price of the ticket to possibly accost see Mike Seaver in person. Probably not.

So, yeah, since I went to Zumba, it meant getting up early (on Saturday!) and regretting my decision to drink coffee beforehand. It was fun, though, and the fact that I keep telling people I'll meet them there means I can't flake out unless I have a really good excuse. Wanting to stay home and watch The Soup is not a good (enough) excuse.

After Zumba, I went home and was faced with this tough decision: Do I continue being productive since I'm already up and aboot? Or do I reward myself for getting up early with TV and loafing? The answer was a little of both, because Joe and I finally went to the bank to begin the long, arduous process of merging our moneys, but when we got home, I watched an episode of Doctor Who and two episodes of Grey's Anatomy (from season 2, when it was still good...ish).

I was about to start the next episode when Joe called and was all, "...um...so...I found a dog," and it was one of those times where I just wasn't sure how to react. I thought he was calling to tell me he was on his way home, not that Max might soon have a new friend. But, no, this dog was wearing tags, so we couldn't in good conscience keep her forever and hug her and squeeze her and call her George.

At first I was like, "take her to SICSA, maybe?" hoping they'd know what to do and then I remembered that I had a computer in front of me, and everyone knows that Google can solve anything. I got on SICSA's website, which led me here in a matter of CLICKS. Apparently, if you find a lost dog, you can find the owner's address and phone number just by entering the dog's tag number. I had no idea our county did this. I'd imagine your county does the same.

I plugged in the tag number and luckily the owner's current information was in there. I called them and a little girl answered the phone. I told her my name and that my husband had found a dog and that's when she squealed, "THEY FOUND CHRISTY!" and my heart melted. They didn't live far from us so I called Joe and told him where he could return the dog, and he said the whole family was outside in the front yard, waiting for him to bring their dog back. I want to cry a little, you guys, WHAT THE HELL. Anyway, I think our Dog Karma is really high now, so hopefully if Max ever gets lost (NOOOOOO), he'll find his way back to us, or someone will find his way back to us FOR him.

i am totally bogarting delurking day II

Sometimes when I find a new blog, I get really annoyed if there's not an "About" page somewhere, because I'm nosy and I like to learn everything about that person RIGHT AWAY, rather than, I don't know, just reading through their archives or something. Who has that kind of time? Wikipedia has ruined me forever.

Anyway, my point is that I'm a big hypocrite because I didn't even have an "About" page! WTF? I've fixed that, though, mainly because I recently discovered how to add Pages in Blogger. I know. I KNOW. So if you look under the header, you will see an "About Me" page and it's all about me, although I'm not sure how informative it is.

There's also a Links! page because did you know that Blogrolling went away? I guess it's been gone since November but I only recently noticed because ALL MY LINKS DISAPPEARED. It was good, though, because I've discovered a lot of new blogs since I last updated my Blogroll, so now those have been added. Please let me know if I forgot you.

BTW, I mostly stole this whole idea from Kate over at Effing the Ineffable, who has declared her own Delurking Day. So if you're a lurker, DELURK, because I am a whore for comments. Also, if you delurk, then I can add your link to my Links! page. Win win win! Also also, I really want to add a FAQ page but no one ever asks me any questions, let alone FREQUENTLY, so if you could delurk AND ask a question, I will send you a virtual hug WHATEVER THAT MEANS.

Also! Here are some recent posts at Joe and Jennie in the Morning! that you may have missed:

1. Joe is going to be recapping Sports Night. Here's the first episode!
2. I recapped episode 3 of The X-Files AKA Squeeze AKA the greatest episode ever (until, you know, the next one)
3. Joe recapped episode 6 of Lois & Clark...Lois dresses up in a chicken suit. Yeah.

WHOA

YOU GUYS. Look at the picture of Paul Revere on his Wackopedia page and tell me that Jack Black is not a time traveler.  GO AHEAD.  TELL ME.

The worst thing about prison was the dementors.

1. It is misty and gloomy today, I think probably because there are dementors around or something. As I do not (yet) have a magic wand, I cannot produce a Patronus to get rid of them. Sorry. I will work on this.

2. When I was on my way home from work yesterday, I pulled up behind a car with the following bumper stickers: "JUST BE NICE" and "If only those with closed minds also had closed mouths." Then a truck pulled up next to that car. The truck had the following bumper stickers: "OBUMMA," "YOU LIE" (with the O being, of course, the Obama O), and "Undocumented Worker" next to a picture of Obama. CHARMING. It made me sigh a lot.

3. Slightly related to #2 (heh), I would like to start a religion based on the JUST BE NICE bumper sticker. Because, OMG people, JUST BE FUCKING NICE TO EACH OTHER.

the very definition of WTF

We got a wedding gift today. And it came in a giant bag. So, of course, then this happened:







Joe was sad that all six foot five of him would not fit in the bag, so Phoebe tried to console him:



It sort of looks like he's growing out of the floor, but I swear, he's not.

big fun

I haven't written about the wedding we went to last weekend because I caught the plague or something and haven't had the energy to sit up, let alone type and entertain you people WHY WON'T YOU LET ME REST? Actually, I'm fine, other than not being able to breathe out of both nostrils at the same time but that's more bothersome than anything else. I wish I could stop taking medicine, though, I don't like it. It's making me make less sense than usual. I took some Benadryl earlier, on top of cough medicine, which I'm sure is fine (RIGHT?), and I was all, "Ripley takes this medicine," and Joe was like, whaaa, because Ripley is my parents' dog and he was all, "are you taking dog medicine?" and I said, "no, Ripley takes people medicine...for her allergies...because she's SENSITIVE." And then I laughed maniacally for like five minutes straight and it was...well, it was weird.

Anyway, so we went to a wedding last weekend. One of my college friends got married, which meant a bunch of OTHER college friends were there. This is why weddings are good, it's an excuse to have mini-reunions every year. I'm not quite sure what will happen once we're all married, though, but I think we have a few more years of wedding-reunions left oh my god what am I talking about?

The wedding was in Cleveland, so we drove up Friday night because we didn't want to rush around on Saturday trying to make it on time. Which meant we had time to kill. So we went to a toy store called Big Fun.

OH. EM. GEE. It was like my childhood THREW UP all over this store. At first I wasn't that impressed because, I don't know, sometimes I resist having fun. I don't know why. Then I saw the Little People set up they had and I wanted to buy all of them but I resisted. They were the old Little People, not the stupid new ones. And they had My Little Ponies and the My Little Pony FREAKING CASTLE and Rainbow Brite and her horse whatever it's name was and Sprites and a Huggabunch doll (creepy as hell, you guys) and Dozers and and a Dennis Miller doll (WHAT?) and a bunch of Peewee's Playhouse stuff, including a Peewee lunchbox that I coveted so hard.

My point is, I want to go back. We're going to another wedding in Cleveland in a few weeks but I'm not sure we'll have time. You see, the house from A Christmas Story is also up there, and the kid (guy) who played Randy is leading the tours this month AND HOW CAN WE NOT GO TO THAT?

this post brought to you by Wackopedia

It's a terrible shock to hear the alarm go off after a four day weekend. I mean, it's a terrible shock most days to hear the alarm go off, but even moreso after a vacation, short as it was.

But alas, this morning the alarm went off and, after only one snooze, I dragged my protesting body out of bed. I can't really complain too much, even though that is my first natural impulse, because I'm only working three days this week. I know. I'll shut up now.

Anyway. I took last Friday off of work, supposedly in order to be productive but I think the only productivity I managed was doing a load or two of laundry. I also finished Ender's Game, though, so I think that counts.

I somehow talked Joe into going to SICSA on Saturday. I'm still not sure how I did it OMG just kidding, I just whined a lot until he drove there. We got there before it opened and I was real quick like, "LET'S TAKE A WALK UNTIL THEY OPEN," in case Joe was thinking it was a SIGN or something that they weren't open yet.

I just wanted to look at the puppies, I said, not get one. I told him it was like when you want to buy a new computer or camera or something and you go to a couple stores and read about them online before you actually buy one. Except that is not what I do. I decide one day that I want a computer/camera/cheesecake and then I just go get one. Usually I do some speedy research online, but still, when I've decided I want something it's after lots and lots of thinking about it and so at that point DON'T CARE HOW I WANT IT NOW.

Ahem. We did not, in fact, end up getting a puppy but it wasn't because there weren't any adorable dogs because there were lots of adorable dogs. Actually, they were all adorable. I can't stop thinking about this sweet, little dog named Kopek. He was five and he was missing an eye, and as we stood in front of his cage, he sat there so politely, just looking at us and wagging his tail while the other dogs barked for attention and I have to stop talking about him now or I'm going to have to go back there and get him ASAP.

The rest of the weekend was mostly spent on getting our wedding invites ready to print and I am proud to say that they are. I like to tell myself it was a team effort because I came up with the wording, but since I just mainly copied it from the Internets and Joe designed the rest, I will admit that he did most of the work.

I went to the pool twice and, to my utter astonishment, did NOT get horribly sunburnt, maybe because I was smart (for once) and limited my pool time to about an hour and a half. My pale, pasty skin is a tiny bit less pale and pasty so I no longer look like my mother and grandmother have had me locked in the attic for four years. Is it weird that I just made a VC Andrews reference? I can't help it. I read the shit out of some VC Andrews when I was a kid. She and Stephen King (and Christopher Pike and RL Stine) shaped my brain at a very impressionable age, which I think explains a lot about why I am the way that I am and why am I talking about my brain right now? I have no idea but I will add that today is Tuesday but feels like Monday but also like Wednesday because I'm not working on Friday and my brain is confused so that is why nothing I'm saying right now makes any sense the end bye bye.

It was Rhode Island

This morning on the way to work, the people on the radio were asking listeners to call in and brag about their special talents because what else would they do? Play music? I don't think so. Anyway, some lady called in and said she could name all 50 states in alphabetical order in under a minute. I was all PFFT big deal, I once did that while walking past the reflecting pool and taking pictures of people making out in the grass and I sang that shit, too.

She messed up right after Ohio (loser) and was all, "shit!" and the DJ was like, "you can't say shit on the radio," which is stupid and dumb but whatever. So then I turned the radio down because I was going to show her how it was done. Nevermind that she wasn't in the car with me and would never know how badly I had shown her up, I WAS GOING TO WIN THIS GAME, IN YOUR FACE LADY ON THE RADIO! So I sang the state song once and was all, "ooh, BURN," but then I started to wonder if I'd forgotten a state and didn't realize it so I sang it again and counted on my fingers as I said each state. And I HAD forgotten one! Real quick, I sang it again and tried to figure out where it was missing and then I did and I sang the song again and counted for good measure and it turns out I am still awesome because I remembered all 50 that time. Whew.

The reason I know all of the states in alphabetical order is because I learned THIS song in third grade and I just now realized that it's a Ray Charles song. The hell? Really? Am I high right now?

Holy shit, you guys, I just started reading the comments for those song lyrics and they are amazing. First of all, people comment on song lyrics? OK. Sure. I've commented on stupider things. Things like...pictures of baby monkeys. And I'm all, "that baby monkey is adorable, can I have it?" Which is weird and doesn't really add anything to the conversation, but seriously, just give me your baby monkey already.

Second of all, here are the best comments (I was going to make fun of the comments but I think most were written by actual 4th graders):

1. HOW DID YOU COME UP WIHT THIS SONG...YOU HAVE A GREAT MIND IN THERE THAT IS HOW YOU CAME UP WITH THAT SONG!!!I THINK THAT IS THE BEST SONG I EVER HEARD IN MY LIFE...ONE DAY YOU HALF TO HAVE A CONSERT IT WILL BE GREAT IF YOU PLAYED FIFTY NIFTY...I LOVE FIFTY NIFTY IF YOU CAN RESPOND I WILL LOVE IT!!!!WE LEARND FIFTY NIFTY IN MUSIC MY HOLE CLASS LOVED IT!!!HOW DID YOU THINK OF THAT SONG!!!I HAVE A SISTER DO YOU THINK MY SISTER JESSICA WILL LIKE THIS SONG?BUT SHE DID MAKE UP A SONG NAMED MISTY KISSY I THINK?WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THIS NAME...TELL ME IF IT IS GOOD!!!

2. This song is famous! im in 4th grade and we have to sing it for chorus and i hate chorus like it gives me headaces but this song is like calm,fun,and easy(in a way)Everyone their was a kindergadernier singing this on youtube! i was like Umm how can he memorise it and i can't umm HOW!!?!??!?!?

3. Currently right now im in the 4th Grade and 4 and 5 grade does chourus 50 students from 4th Grade AND 110 kids in 5th Grade we always sing fifty nifty at the end and everyone loves it!!! They sing it in classes, recess,lunch, and at random times we make up our own parts and we dance to the song in chourus!!!! Its so joyful and fun. Thank you school systems.

4. This song is wieeeerd. I live in Georgia so at my elementery school, we at the end of the list of songs we go but Georgia is the best of the fifty nifty united states... Iit's also shorter.Don't you guy's love I mean love nick jonas? lol.Sorry I love Him.Anyways Ya'll gotta go!

5. i can't even express how many times this comes in handy. let's just say i wont a 50$ bet on a public bus for naming the states alphabetically in under 60 seconds

6. I am very flattered that everyone seems to like my song, but they're giving credit to the wrong Ray Charles for having written it. There are, or were, 2 Ray Charleses. I am the one who had the Ray Charles Singers with Perry Como for 35 years and I wrote the song as the theme for our "Salute the States" feature of our TV show. If you see my credit anyplace, it reads "the other Ray Charles".Incidentally, I sing the theme on "Three's Company".

Oh. Good to know.

also, why is the Baroness such a see you next tuesday?

I woke up this morning with that Do Re Mi song from The Sound of Music stuck in my head. I don't know why. I've stopped questioning these things. I have a different song stuck in my head almost every morning, as soon as I wake up, and it could be anything from Old McDonald (I KNOW) to Lisztomania.

But this morning my head was full of the vocal styling of Nunny Maria and like eighteen adorable moppets. There were eighteen of them, right? Whatever. So the whole time I'm getting ready, it's running through my head and at first I couldn't remember the order it went in. I was all Do Re Mi La Fa So Ti Do Bleep Bloop Blah Blerg. Which isn't how it goes, if you've never seen the movie. Why haven't you seen that movie, though? I love it with all my heart, I do, it's my favorite Julie Andrews movie aside from Mary Poppins (I typed Poopins before Poppins, I don't know what that says about me but I don't think it's good).

I finally got it right, though, and then I concentrated on remembering what each of the notes stood for which was difficult because I kept mixing it up with Homer Simpson's version. (I hope that's the right link. It's blocked at work so I have no idea. I'm sorry if I just took you to some video of, like, cats playing baseball except no, I'm really not, because that sounds awesome.)

Anyway. I finally remembered that it goes like this: Do, a deer, a female deer. Re, a drop of golden sun. Mi, a name I call myself. Fa, a long long way to run. So, a needle pulling thread. La, a note to follow So. Ti, a drink with jam and bread. And that brings us back to DO DO DO DO.

And La is totally the red-headed stepchild of that song. Poor La. Right, so then I got to thinking about the movie and how Maria is all, "when you read you begin with ABC, when you sing you begin with Do Re Mi," and she teaches the kids the song and all of the sudden they just know how to sing. POOF. Magic. But I'm pretty sure there was no magic in that movie, other than like looooove magic between Captain von Trapp and Maria, which you can see every time they look all googly eyed at one another because they are bathed in the soft light of WANTING TO GET. IT. ON.

I wish they'd had real magic in the movie, though. If they'd had magic, they could have turned that nasty a-hole Rolf into a toad and then stomped on him until he was nothing but toad guts and then flown away in their magical flying car instead of traipsing through the mountains to Switzerland or whatever. Is that where they were going? Switzerland? I don't remember. I'm also really bad at geography.

I know it's a musical and all and bursting into spontaneous song I can totally accept, but when they just are like SO GOOD at singing right off the bat? Bullshit. That would be like me learning the ABCs and then moving right along to reading Proust or something. Like, I think they skipped a couple hundred steps.

But whatever. I don't care, I still love the movie, don't get me wrong. I used to watch it practically every weekend when I was a tiny little child, and I'd also sing along to all the songs but I'd get mad at my sister if SHE tried to sing along and my god, my parents must have been so very, very patient. And then we'd switch to Mary Poppins and I'd sing all those songs, too, imitating Dick Van Dyke's cockney accent in my tiny little child voice and I'd wish my parents would hire Mary Poppins as a babysitter the next time they went out. Governess Maria von Nun would have been OK, too, but I think when I was little I thought that a governess was an ex-nun who moved in with you if your mother died and then married your dad and made you clothes out of curtains and stuff, sort of like Scarlett O'Hara but way less selfish and so my definition of governess wouldn't have worked in my situation. Which is fine, but my parents couldn't have hired an flying nanny JUST ONCE? I tried flying with an umbrella myself but I must have had the wrong kind of umbrella so it didn't work. I also tried jumping into my sidewalk chalk drawings but I guess I had the wrong kind of chalk, too? I don't know, maybe magic sidewalk chalk only works in Britain. Britain gets all the magic, it's not fair.

time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping

You know how they say time flies when you're having fun? I think that's stupid because time flies when you're not having fun, too. Like, I can't believe it's Wednesday already but I've spent most of this week working and that's not fun, right? I mean, maybe your job is fun but the only time my job is fun is when someone brings in free food. Or when the pressures of the day because JUST TOO MUCH and we all start throwing stuff at each other, not that that ever happens because that's not appropriate workplace behavior and I definitely don't condone it but why would they give everyone little stress balls if they didn't want us to throw them at each other? Huh?

This is not to say I haven't been having fun because OH, have I been having fun OH YES I HAVE. Last Thursday, Joe and I saw Frightened Rabbit and they blew my mind. And my eardrums. What? Haha, funny joke, Jennie. Anyway. There were two opening bands and the first one was AWFUL. I mean, they sucked major donkey balls. Like the biggest donkey balls ever. I forget their name because I've tried to block out that experience. The second band was good and Frightened Rabbit was...well, I already mentioned the mind-blowingness so I'll just stop there. I will just say that I haven't been able to stop listening to them since we saw them, such is the power of the adorable Glasgow accent.

We also saw Iron Man 2, which I suppose I liked, not having gone into it with any expectations other than Robert Downey Jr. is beautiful and I'd probably get to see him shirtless at some point. WHICH I DID. The most confusing part of the movie was in the filler beforehand, when Zachary Levi sang a song with Katherine McPhee. I thought maybe I was hallucinating the whole thing, but Abigail assures me that it's real and that Chuck just really likes singing. To which I say: go Chuck.

On Saturday, we went to a wedding cake/cupcake tasting and I ate so many cupcakes that I felt sort of ill the rest of the day, and sugar-crashed later that afternoon watching Walk the Line and woke up from my nap singing Ring of Fire, which actually isn't that unusual for me. But the cupcakes were delicious and I think we're going to have them make a million cupcakes for our reception and wouldn't you know it? They're the first cake place we went. It's a little place called Bombshell Bakeshop, which actually is located primarily on the internet and I find that somewhat fitting. Plus also, the cupcakes were so good that I never wanted to stop eating them, even if my stomach esploded.

And now for my most exciting news: I GOT A NEW BIKE. It looks sort of like Pee-wee's bike, a fact which made me jump up and down in the store, clapping my hands in excitement while Joe pretended he didn't know me.

Oh look, here's a picture:

I don't know what to name her. I do know that I love her. Last night, Joe and I went out to the garage and I gave her a hug and Joe pretended not to know me again. That happens a lot.

no poking

The opener for Ben Folds last week was Kate Miller-Heidke and I was a bit skeptical when she walked out, mostly because the last UD concert we went to was Guster and the opener was the winner of the local battle of the bands contest and...yeah, they were not great. But luckily, she was so good, you guys. She was a tiny, little blond lady with a big voice (think Kristen Chenoweth with less Broadway) from Australia (think Claire with less "Chah-lie, whea's my baybee") and she was adorable.

After a few songs, I remembered this awesome song about Facebook I'd seen months and months ago on my travels around the internet and I thought the singer had been a tiny blond woman, but couldn't remember for sure. How great would that be, I thought, and every time she went to the piano I was all, "this is it...she's going to play the Facebook song," while at the same time telling myself to STFU because what are the chances that some random person I saw on Youtube so long ago would be opening for Ben Folds on THAT VERY NIGHT? Well, it turns out the chances were pretty good because the next time she went to the piano, she sang the Facebook song and I tried not to jump out of my seat, so giddy was I with the excitement of BEING SO RIGHT. Anyway. Here's the Facebook song:

Yeah, well, you know, that's just, like, your opinion, man.

I feel like I'm suffering from some sort of time traveling sickness, which is weird because I don't remember time traveling. But maybe a side effect of the time traveling sickness is that you can't remember actually time traveling. That'd be a pain in the ass, yeah? I mean, it's not like time traveling is confusing enough, what with trying to make sure you don't run into your past or future self and give yourself a brain hemorrhage and you have to make sure you find your constant and what if you run into wackadoo Faraday and you can't get away from him because he's spouting physics at you in a whisper yell? What then? Anyway, my point is, time traveling is confusing and might also be sickness-inducing so you should probably take your time traveling dinosaur with you just in cases.

Where was I? Right, I was about to tell you about my weekend only you don't know that because I started talking about time travel instead of what I did this weekend which is actually probably good because all I did was grown up stuff. It would have sucked, but Joe was there so that made it better. But like, Friday night I came home and went running right away. Who does that? Oh, I do. And do you know what? Now I don't even remember what else I did Friday night except I know I fell asleep on the sofa watching Joe vs. the Volcano but between the running and the packing...I don't know. I think there might have been some Penn Station involved at some point but OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS HAVE I REALLY BEEN TIME TRAVELING?! This is so cool. Other than the memory loss, but whatever.

OK, so Saturday was the really grown up day because here is what we did, you guys, just wait until you hear this: got up way too early for a Saturday, loaded the car with boxes, went to Budget to rent a truck, picked up my washer and dryer from the old apartment storage unit, dropped them off at the new storage unit, took the truck back, ate some lunch, took stuff to Goodwill, went to Ikea, went to Target, got some dinner, went home, Joe put Ikea stuff together, I addressed Save the Dates, watched The Big Lebowski, drank beer OMG aren't you tired? I am. Also, that was boring, let's talk more about time travel, OK?

STOP. Hammer time.

Yesterday, it finally sunk in that I am moving NEXT WEEK. Next week is not very far away. In fact, next week is NEXT WEEK. I'm not sure what prompted this revelation. Maybe it was that people were giving me boxes and everyone knows boxes = moving. Or it could have been that someone came to pick up my endtables, making the living room look empty and sad.

Or! It could be that the living room, along with looking empty and sad, now has a random bookcase sitting next to the sofa, making it look like a very trashy college living space. But whatever. Once the endtables were gone, I realized I needed somewhere to put the lamp and the remotes and, more importantly, my beer, so I cleared off a bookcase from my bedroom (packing a box in the process) and brought it downstairs. It will only look trashy for about a week or so, so I think it's OK.

I've gotten rid of a couple things on Craigslist now, and yet every time someone comes to pick up something I've sold/given away, I think they're going to kidnap me and sell me in some faraway country (thanks a lot, Taken) or ax murder me or WORSE stand there and talk about their kids or their last vacation for hours. None of this has happened, of course, but that hasn't stopped the fear. Oh, no. I always prepare before they come over. Like, I make sure I'm fully dressed and wearing sneakers in case they try to grab me and put me in their windowless van, so it's easier to run away. I make sure they only come during daylight hours so if I do end up running away from them, hopefully someone will be out walking their dog. And hopefully this someone is in the military, which is a good bet considering we live like five minutes from the base. I also make sure someone (usually Joe) knows that the person is coming over, and I text him once they're gone to let him know I wasn't horribly murdered. It's a good system. I figure if I have a plan, nothing bad will happen. It's sort of like how I plan for the zombie apocalypse. That way, I'm covered if it ever happens but I'm of the belief that if you plan for the worst, maybe it won't happen. If you don't plan, then the Universe knows you're unprepared and it throws zombies at you. True story.

Wow, what was I talking about? Doesn't matter. Tonight, Joe and I are going to pick out paint colors. We're at least painting the living/dining rooms on account of there's a giant gaping white space in the shape of the china hutch that used to be there. Sigh. But picking out paint is fun! Right? Right. I need help, though. The carpet is blue so we need to match the walls to that. Here is a picture. It's actually of the office. Please ignore the fact that I'm wearing Hammer Pants. That is a story for another day. Maybe. Here's a picture of the living room and the current wall color. And some random family members. At Christmas time. Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Anyway, what color should we paint the walls? We'll probably end up painting the master bedroom, too, which has the same color carpet so lots of suggestions would be super awesome times a million.

all work and no play makes jennie something something

I am someone who thrives on routine. I'm a planner and my secret power lies in my To Do list. I love To Do lists SO MUCH. LOVE. THEM. I make them all the time and it comes in handy that I also have a notebook-buying problem. I love little notebooks and I keep one in my purse at all times, sometimes for grocery lists, sometimes to write ideas down, but mostly for To Do lists.

The past couple of weeks have been crazy times ten, and I don't really know why, other than I've been super busy, snow keeps throwing off my schedule, and I'm wedding planning and we've been looking for a place to live AT THE SAME TIME. The living arrangements, I believe, are almost sorted out and honestly I haven't done much in the way of wedding planning except look at things online. Seriously, the wedding business may be crazypants, but it has really opened up a whole new avenue of procrastination. It's amazing.

This is not to say that I haven't been productive, oh no it does not.

Sidenote: Joe and I watched The Land Before Time a couple of weeks ago, because he'd never seen it. Can you believe that? The Land Before Time was one of my favorite movies when I was a kid. My grandma had it on Laserdisc (!) and I probably watched it about 500 bajillion times. I was surprised at how sad it was on this viewing, and how short. Also, Sharp Tooth is SCAAAARY! Anyway, my point is (I have one!), that ever since we watched it, I keep talking like Ducky which I guess is OK because as we were watching the movie and Ducky kept babbling at everyone, Joe was all, "omg, YOU ARE DUCKY," which...true story. What were we talking about?

Oh right. Productivity. So you know how I have every other Friday off, right? Well, I do. On my last Friday off, I decided to go through my stuff to see if I had anything to give to Goodwill because I ALWAYS have something to give to Goodwill. Always. Even if I just took them a bunch of crap, I can always find more stuff to get rid of. I'm trying to stop this vicious cycle by limiting how much new stuff I buy. So far, so good.

Last Friday, I got up, ate some breakfast, and got to work. I went room by room, starting with the kitchen because it was the easiest and moving on to the dining room because it had become the home for everything we didn't know what to do with. I moved quickly to the living room and upstairs to my bathroom and bedroom, and I think I freaked Phoebe out with my Monica Geller cleaning mania, because she spent most of the time in the closet hiding between my clothes with her face to the wall. She is not going to be happy in about a month when it's time to move again.

Also! A while ago, Joe and I had a friend take some pictures for our Save the Dates, which turned out super awesome but have yet to be sent because we were going back and forth about fonts. That's right, fonts. I was fine with this, because playing with fonts is totally fun SHUT UP it is. Then last weekend we went on a fruitless apartment hunt that ended with us looking at my grandma's old condo after going to dinner with my very lovely family and it was such a long day that when we got home, we turned on the Olympics, Joe pulled up the last Save the Date font we'd been talking about and I was all, "THAT ONE! For the love of god, THAT ONE I DON'T CARE ANYMORE BLAAAARG."

Right. So. I guess what I'm trying to say is things have been busy and I forgot to add blogging to my To Do list. I will rectify this immediately. Heh. RECTify.

(i don't know)