tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60454822011-08-11T15:41:31.372-04:00Unable to relinquish the crownI hate drama queens yet I can't seem to relinquish the crown.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comBlogger5871100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1140475616515204822006-02-20T17:45:00.000-05:002006-02-20T17:46:56.526-05:00Obligatory moved post! Please come join us at:jessicainprogress.comJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1139966916207882472006-02-14T20:25:00.000-05:002006-02-14T20:28:36.223-05:00TG and I have known each other for a year today. It’s not the day we first met, but a year ago he first contacted me from a dating website. (When these things happen on romantic holidays, you tend to remember. I also had an echocardiogram on Valentine’s Day, 1997. That was a useful mind trick when over a year later I found out my insurance was never billed for it and therefore wouldn’t pay theJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1139873271175305542006-02-13T18:25:00.000-05:002006-02-13T18:27:51.220-05:00The weekend was a great success. My parents wanted to take a walk Friday morning, which gave me time to hit the gym per my new routine. Every bit counts when you know you’re going to be chowing down all weekend.Thursday evening I had suggested to both of them to peruse my iTunes and pick songs for the shuffle. Dad chose a few, clearly not interested at first but he came back in with more and Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1139580815075733452006-02-10T09:04:00.000-05:002006-02-10T09:13:35.090-05:00This week has been one of many kinds of suck. I had no desire to rehash it because:1) it just makes the suck worse.2) most would be/is over.3) I had non-suck things to look forward to.BUT. I just checked my mail. USF has returned my application.Why? Because they do not process Summer semester applications until April.They just spent 37 cents to tell me: YOU MAY RESUBMIT THE APPLICATION DURING OURJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1139539239374534762006-02-09T21:26:00.000-05:002006-02-09T21:40:39.390-05:00Time it took for my mother to gravitate towards art: -2 minutes. (As soon as I saw the manatee installation at TPA I knew she'd have to stop. Sure enough, it was the first thing she mentioned.)Time it took for my father to speak Latin: 2 hours. (Getting slow in his old age?)I was nervous about taking them to Ajanti. My mother has some specific dietary restrictions and my father is consistently Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1139443209962879202006-02-08T18:58:00.000-05:002006-02-08T19:00:57.780-05:00For reasons she could no longer remember, she owned an ex-boyfriend’s little brother’s jean jacket.Jean jackets weren’t really her thing, but most outerwear in general failed her. Or she failed it.She had owned the jacket for ten years now and supposed that was three times longer than the little brother ever did.For reasons she could no longer remember, a Barney the dinosaur plastic kazoo residedJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1139189003431626052006-02-05T20:22:00.000-05:002006-02-05T20:30:12.926-05:00Originally, I hadn’t been thinking about returning to the sanctuary. That ship, I thought, had sailed. But as I put the pieces in place for my big change, I realized it would be prudent for me to have an internship this summer. Something to prove to graduate schools I’m serious and committed to the idea of making a lot less money and getting much more dirty while doing it.It is also imperative Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1138925242263769092006-02-02T18:52:00.000-05:002006-02-02T19:07:22.280-05:00As a side note, after writing this, I realized another issue with discussing/treating PMS is the fact that it’s something that only occurs for a few days a month. I started feeling better and wondered what the hell I was making a big deal about. (I think the fact that my stomach feels better (get your miracle lemon bars here!) – which was completely unrelated – is putting a positive spin on Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1138836815520969082006-02-01T18:33:00.000-05:002006-02-01T20:51:02.770-05:00Today has been…not good.Not that yesterday was any prize.It’s just one of those weeks where I’m trying really hard to be productive and the world has other plans for me.Exercise after work? How about a headache instead? And by the way, don’t you enjoy a little surprise with the way items decide to leave your body?“You were told you’d get a call back yesterday? Hmm…there is no indication of Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1138663716238185112006-01-30T18:17:00.000-05:002006-01-30T19:50:27.100-05:00Does anyone believe that Fox is keeping The War At Home so everyone can have a nice sex break between Simpsons and Family Guy?No? Just me?I’ve been purposely quiet here for a number of reasons. First off, I was beating myself over the head with the essays to an application and finally decided I needed to not post anymore until I got them done. I finished the application, but I’ve also been Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1138544671343821302006-01-29T09:14:00.000-05:002006-01-29T09:24:31.363-05:00Mingaling is queen of the Internet playground. And I’ve been tagged.Four jobs I’ve had in my lifei. Foreman on a work crewii. Gamma-ray creator and spectroscopy analyzer (i.e. research assistant.)iii. Software Engineeriv. SecretaryFour movies I can watch over and over (I am a movie-whore, not a movie buff. I’ll watch just about anything and have lots of movies I like, but very few I insist Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1138062022077311752006-01-23T19:09:00.000-05:002006-01-23T19:30:34.160-05:00When I started writing here, I was also using a pen-and-paper journal. I love them. My writing in them is never good, but it grounds me. I can see the full-circle sweeps from someone hurting my feelings to treating me like a princess and it keeps my tongue civil when I feel the former making its rounds. A few pages of rant and it wicks away my anger. The next day’s entry is often a much differentJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1137983651068150642006-01-22T21:13:00.000-05:002006-01-22T21:34:11.133-05:00I've been sitting here in a bit of a fog, trying to parse together something on my day.I went to church. First time in forever. Extra bonus was a session meeting P had to attend which meant D, baby, and I got to chat for an hour. Baby recognized me, I swear. Giggled and held out his arms.T is in town. We had lunch and mini golf. It was in the high seventies here today, hate me. Afterwards I sat Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1137800857175223972006-01-20T18:47:00.000-05:002006-01-20T18:47:37.193-05:00I know I'm feeling better when instead of just wanting the world to go away, I wish to slap it around a bit first.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1137719475671131212006-01-19T19:36:00.000-05:002006-01-19T20:12:56.613-05:00Evidently being sick also makes me a thoughtless bitch. Here you guys leave nice comments telling me to get well, and I don't even acknowledge it. Thank you for the kind words.(I am not referring of course to TG's taunt. He's just looking to antagonize me into good health and a fierce romp.)(Actually, he was nice enough to bring over chili Sunday evening. He made it with his own two cows and Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1137628228480878032006-01-18T18:36:00.000-05:002006-01-18T18:50:28.496-05:00Yesterday’s snippet of a post was meant to be part of something bigger that I couldn’t bring myself to finish. Maybe I’ll get back to it sometime. Suffice to say, I’ve had regrets on my mind as I move towards changes that I planned and fell through on before. I’ve been having difficulties.Not just here. Everywhere. With everyone.Let’s sum up recent life events:Sick. Tea.That does not make Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1137542417874513762006-01-17T18:44:00.000-05:002006-01-17T19:00:17.886-05:00I regret telling him I'd never really liked lilies. It was true, I hadn't. But those were gorgeous and changed my mind. Blunt and rude are such a slip of the tongue apart. One makes me cute. The other, not so much.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1137339368474343012006-01-15T10:33:00.000-05:002006-01-15T10:36:08.490-05:00Looking for an upside. ANY upside.When your nasal cavities are so filled with snot that your response to homemade chocolate chip cookies is, "enh", you can save quite a bit on groceries by sysmatically going through all those freezer items you never want to eat because they bored you so much the first time around you didn't finish them and put them in the freezer.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1137016436493932512006-01-11T16:25:00.000-05:002006-01-11T16:53:57.760-05:00Status Quo:Sick. Sick. Sick. Dumb.Could everyone please, please stay the fuck home when you are ill? So that we do not all keep passing the same fucking virus back and forth for months?I was feeling better by Sunday evening. Ready to return to my usual schedule of chores and workouts after work. Then after Monday, I once again felt lethargic. By Tuesday afternoon, I had a small fever and sore Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1136929118132279812006-01-10T16:31:00.000-05:002006-01-10T17:08:26.486-05:00I apologize to Ari readers who came over here expecting tales of pack-ratting and eating the cheese first off a pizza and instead got the last post. Suicide! Depression! Woo!Rereading it, I also apologize because it could be better written. It loses a lot of power in vagueness. That’s what you get when you repress.I could apologize more, but why don’t I give you what you came for?(I want to thankJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1136860059568621792006-01-09T21:19:00.000-05:002006-01-09T21:27:39.583-05:00In March, it will be two years since I’ve been out at the sanctuary in any official capacity.(Well, that’s not entirely true. I went out a few times for some meetings, to do some filing, and to help move/say goodbye to my boy.)Even gone, I couldn’t stay away.It was originally supposed to be just a leave of absence. I was to return in the fall, stronger, re-employed elsewhere, and with a handle Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1136685931683293812006-01-07T20:46:00.000-05:002006-01-07T21:32:06.466-05:00I've been hard at work today with little to show for it.I'm still in my PJs, intent on ridding myself of this sickness by boring it to death. I haven't left the house at all.My mind is a mush of monies. School. Expenses. Cat teeth cleaning. Africa. Ireland. Good thing I didn't leave the house. My head might have exploded had a dollar left my wallet.I've learned a lot about web pages and domains Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1136516248973053062006-01-05T21:30:00.000-05:002006-01-05T21:57:29.050-05:00I tried to write a piece on missing the new boy's dad. Except I wished to use only pronouns and that just wasn't working. Perhaps if I wrote about his mother or sister. At least the he and she would be clear, assuming I didn't get all third person on your ass.I don't think about him. And when I do, I rarely write about him. I saw Cats...I don't know. Months ago. July? I hated it. And I wished Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1136424041093967052006-01-04T20:05:00.000-05:002006-01-04T20:20:41.106-05:00The progress of this post:Sometime in the morning - The fact that I'm in a pissy mood will make for a snarky post.Sometime after lunch - The fact that I got some of the emails that were supposed to be causing my pissy mood and I am still pissy will make for a snarky post.Driving home - The fact that glass has taken up residence in my throat will add melancholy to a snarky post.At home - I have noJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1136243794595763202006-01-02T18:14:00.000-05:002006-01-02T18:16:34.610-05:00Two Conversations with Mom within 30 minutes of coming home:Mom: Oh! You’re reading To A Lighthouse! What do you…Me: I hate you. I blame you for the pain.Mom: OK.Me: Virginia Woolf needs to find a period. There is a point where introspection is too much. Move on.Mom: You really think that?Me: Well, I’m also the only one in this family to adore Hemingway.Mom: True.(Later, in the car)Me: So I Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1136073757009813892005-12-31T18:44:00.000-05:002005-12-31T21:31:17.836-05:00Sometimes I worry about things that I might have to retract in life.There's this guy...I'm quitting my job...I'm going to lose weight...And then nothing. No guy. No career change. No weight loss. And that's life. Not everything is a huge event or comes to great fruition. But sometimes you want it to. Or you mean it to. And I guess if you never put things out there, possible retraction or no, Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1135979402510856182005-12-30T16:40:00.000-05:002005-12-30T16:50:02.523-05:00Place holder for when my head is filled with more words, less snot.Yes. Still sick. Very much done with it, and the virus technically found not one, but two new host bodies, so really it can run THE FUCK ALONG.If I'd been trying to work, be social, or do anything but vegetate surrounded by tea and Kleenix, I'd understand why I haven't shook it yet. But seriously. Blech.I'm home now. Had a Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1135711951496893922005-12-27T14:21:00.000-05:002005-12-27T14:32:31.510-05:00Hi.The illness, it doth extend. By which I mean I have been a snotty, limp, coughing mess.The good news is that despite this I had a wonderful Christmas with my family. And I have a few stories to tell once I get to the land of DSL.The bad news is that I had to make a decision this morning. I am not going to New York. Showering leaves me breathless and it's the most activity I partake of Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1135426943071343382005-12-24T07:21:00.000-05:002005-12-24T07:22:23.083-05:00I'm sick. Sore throat. Stuffy nose. Small Fever. Elephant tap-dancing on my lungs.I'm about to get on a plane. Merry Christmas.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1135347692058348292005-12-23T09:18:00.000-05:002005-12-23T09:23:39.733-05:00I remember this as one of the first pieces I ever wrote and saved to work on later. It is one of the first things I showed the new boy as an example of my writing. Evidently he had just gone to the kitchen to get a glass of water without asking about me and felt bad when he read that part. I hadn't noticed. Because sometimes when you're with the person you want to be with, they will always be theJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1135206498577726002005-12-21T18:05:00.000-05:002005-12-21T18:08:18.590-05:00First off, I apologize if Monday’s post was not clear. TG did a little who-to-the-what-now last night when I made a comment on my baking skills. So either he only skims posts that aren’t related to him, I was too cutesy vague, or we need to evaluate his definition of kitchen success. (And if it’s the last? Well, I kind of like the idea of someone not too uptight about cooking – easier to Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1135040426259043682005-12-19T19:38:00.000-05:002005-12-19T20:07:17.676-05:00I love cookie cutters. The weirder, the better. Exhibit A, clockwise from top: bell, pig, donkey head, airplane, cat, cowboy boot.Exhibit B is a close up of the lone sideways cookie: a saw. How fucking awesome is that? How many people have a saw cookie cutter? Not pictured, but owned: scissors, HUGE frog, dachshund, and of course the required array of santas, gingerbread men, snowmen, rudolphs, Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1134792474913207202005-12-16T22:56:00.000-05:002005-12-17T22:16:07.643-05:00"Who's counting, drunk girl?"These were his last words to me, as he left to try and get a good night's sleep to keep his cold from returning.I still say I only helped finish three, not four, pitchers.TG's been sick this week. I've done the best I can - a combination between mothering (my natural instinct) and leaving him the hell alone (what I know he really wants).But when BR called to mention Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1134693949795652652005-12-15T19:17:00.000-05:002005-12-15T19:45:49.856-05:00Today I picked up my favorite Greek food x 2 after work and headed over to P & D's. It was me, D, and their baby boy who finally let me hold him for the first time without screams. (He's had colic. It's nothing against me personally. Really.)I'm so happy and relaxed from our simple evening together. D's voice has this new amazing tone it since she grew into motherhood. Some people feel abandoned Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1134515498934798452005-12-13T18:10:00.000-05:002005-12-13T18:11:38.950-05:00If I numbered these, I suppose the title of the list would be “Icky Emotions I plan to suppress with mulled wine”I really wish my ex-husband could see, just for a minute, how much he hurt me. Because I can see how much I hurt him. And yet that might best explain why we are apart.I feel guilty that I’m not going to see my grandparents before Christmas. I can’t decide whether I should change my Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1134441511964770742005-12-12T21:37:00.000-05:002005-12-12T21:52:05.506-05:00Hi. I'm aware this is weak and lame. Work isn't so much hard has it is tedious and soul-crushing.I really should not have been in a foul mood when I got to Tire Kingdom. It was my fault that the drive from Point A to Point B took a detour around the rest of the alphabet.But Oh My Fuck. They had the most annoying customer waiting. One of those small, smelly dick guys who attacks you with a Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1134349364430014112005-12-11T19:44:00.000-05:002005-12-11T20:02:44.453-05:00"Do you need help?""Oh, no. AAA is on their way, but I think I can do it myself.""Well...um, be careful.""Thank you!" And then I proceeded to jump up and down on a lug wrench.I got the tire changed within fifteen minutes. My only slow down was in figuring out how my jack disengaged. (Two things I recommend to anyone are a full-size spare and a better jack than what comes with a vehicle.) I Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1134093458349257932005-12-08T20:54:00.000-05:002005-12-08T20:57:38.363-05:00Let me say up front, I’m well aware I could just buy TG some DVDs or books and be done with it. But that just seems wrong somehow. In part because that’s what I did for his birthday.You would think, for someone in love with gadgets and a wide range of interests, this would be easier. But the problem is in understanding what is something that he really wants rather than something that just Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1134005472063625252005-12-07T20:26:00.000-05:002005-12-07T20:31:12.076-05:00I was feeling all warm and reflective on my drive home and thought I might just plop down for a good ol' fashioned free-write. (Not be mistaken for a good ol' fashioned rat stomp. Which I have participated in. And no, I won't be telling the story. I'm such a rat stomp tease.)But then a headache stopped by and decided to sit on me. So you get lists.Over the weekend, I1) Explained to an Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1133830201245797622005-12-05T19:27:00.000-05:002005-12-05T19:50:01.280-05:00Ugh.Frisco freaked me out this morning by not wanting breakfast. When any animal in this house allows for kibble to fall into a bowl continuously and does not knock the cup across the room because FOOD NOW I know I am in trouble. (This isn't as annoying as it sounds because I rarely attempt to clean up the spilled kibble. It will be gone in a moment.)Since vomit had been playing a role in our Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1133616015535169922005-12-03T08:04:00.000-05:002005-12-03T08:20:15.546-05:00Dinner with Jessica In Progress - more fun than dusting!At least that was what I convinced NG yesterday afternoon. Couldn 't the house stay dirty one more night for some Thai and moi?While his career advice was a little sketchy ("Become a stripper! Then you could have a stripper name! Cheyenne! Madison!"), the rest of the evening was just what the doctor ordered. And for some reason the factJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1133477867426311012005-12-01T17:54:00.000-05:002005-12-01T17:57:47.440-05:00Check update. I know I have a right to cash the check, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It is about the amount I give to a work charity for the holiday season, so unless I hear from her I am considering her family my alternate charity. (That sounds rather condescending but 1) you know what I mean and 2) I am too lazy to care how it sounds otherwise I would have found a different way to word Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1133403775549555902005-11-30T21:12:00.000-05:002005-11-30T21:22:55.573-05:00I've been in a fog most of the day. Hence no great coherent update.The bare minimal was executed. I spoke with H regarding plans for Saturday. I showered. I complimented a co-worker who I've really enjoyed working with.The important stuff.Everything else - the roof, the school application, even my workout routine (because really, how healthy is it to attempt to lift dumbbells over your head when Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1133315752103770952005-11-29T20:53:00.000-05:002005-11-29T20:55:52.116-05:00Randoms:1) Two days ago, my hair decided to part different. By itself. A part that I used to fight for every morning in high school and gave up on. My hair is having a mid-life crisis.2) My plans this evening of making latkes and then decorating my Christmas tree are rather multicultural. If you toss in the fact that the eggs are organic and cage-free (These eggs were allowed to runJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1133216320060591202005-11-28T17:03:00.000-05:002005-11-28T17:33:59.043-05:00Note: Since writing this, I had to stand up for myself and not let the AC repairman charge me extra labor because he got here before me when I was told no one would move a muscle until I called them when I got home.I hate being a grown-up. I much prefer handing out free money and puppies to ensure everyone loves me. I remember when, as a child, catastrophes such as a blown tire on I-95 was an Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1133055515770823012005-11-26T20:13:00.000-05:002005-11-26T20:38:35.783-05:00"Talk about pressure!"Such a compliment. To say that about having to guide a tour at the sanctuary where I am just another guest.Well, perhaps not just another guest. After a half hour, she desired to give credit and mention that one of the creators of the enrichment program was in the crowd.I have wanted to get TG out there for awhile. But schedules were not matching up. When my favorite Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132844102545125732005-11-24T09:53:00.000-05:002005-11-24T09:55:02.560-05:00I decided last night that my thankful list was going to be non-traditional.While I am thankful, immensely, for the people in my life, for my health and ability to enjoy said life, for the place I am at and the strength to take myself where I want to be, I am a sarcastic, inappropriate person and I often feel itchy when getting maudlin.(Although it happens at the drop of the hat. Damn you Today Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132791386125395202005-11-23T18:53:00.000-05:002005-11-23T19:23:49.293-05:00I stopped to talk with a co-worker yesterday and decided he looked different.My gut reaction was that he had shaved off his moustache. Except my next gut reaction was that he never had a moustache.So I asked if he got a haircut.“Um, last Thursday. Where have you been?”“Oh, you know…” blah blah blah software design.After we parted, I realized that the difference I really noticed was that he wasn’tJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132697968351771012005-11-22T17:12:00.000-05:002005-11-23T06:45:58.343-05:00I was out shopping at lunch longer than I planned and I was really hungry and really started craving sugar. So I stuffed my face with Chiclets from the gumball machine while my lunch warmed up.Seriously. This was my idea. To make myself sick on gum so that I wouldn't be snacking all afternoon.Why oh why do people let me out of the house?(It worked, however. Not sure how much sugar/calories I Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132532254208115002005-11-20T19:04:00.000-05:002005-11-20T19:19:39.373-05:00My Weekend:Not once, but twice.The first was at the 21 and over theater with TG, C and H - the absolute best way to view any movie that even remotely caters to teenagers.I liked it better than the third, but not necessarily enough to see again right away.Unless asked by her. Because aunt Jessi does not say no to that face.Or this face, which was busy stuffing my hair into his mouth.After church Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132352143554616222005-11-18T17:15:00.000-05:002005-11-18T17:15:43.566-05:00Of note:1) We have a random rest-your-shit-here chair in the ladies room. This afternoon I saw an architectural blueprint for a cheeseburger lying there. I wanted to steal it.2) I need nachos. If you have nachos, could you please give me some? Thank you.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132318948302653922005-11-18T07:59:00.000-05:002005-11-18T08:02:28.320-05:00The last time I participated in a Jewish wedding, I was sixteen and the bride.I Never Saw Another Butterfly, by Celeste Raspanti, is a play about the children who passed through Terezin, a stop on the way to the gas chambers in Auschwitz.The book, and play, were written from drawings and poems found at Terezin after the war. Makeshift school, to impart knowledge and keep hope even when the end Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132270284615272482005-11-17T18:20:00.000-05:002005-11-17T18:33:36.863-05:00I swear I'm working on a real story. With meaning and everything. Maybe even a little alliteration if you're lucky.But this has not been a great week at work. Actually, it will not be a great week at work until sometime in January. Even then it's doubtful.I had to wear a suit and speak in front of many people today. (Bonus: Many people in Air Force uniform. Yum.) Although I don't think I spoke Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132178968915814182005-11-16T17:00:00.000-05:002005-11-16T17:09:28.936-05:00Ways to rock my world:1) Tell me I'm the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Tell me the groom's brother hissed at you to stop staring but you couldn't - I'm just that stunning.2) Tell me my favorite 8-year-old has been asking and asking about aunt Jessi.3) Scritch my back when we crawl into bed.*4) Make an appointment with me to finally, FINALLY take a look at my stupid roof.5) Make an Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1132004789461452242005-11-14T16:44:00.000-05:002005-11-14T19:05:19.433-05:00The wedding was beautiful and I will try to find words for it later.However, over the weekend the number of people on my worry-list tripled. I feel a bit frayed around the edges and ready for someone to wrap me in a bear hug of my own.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1131727347572590152005-11-11T11:21:00.000-05:002005-11-11T22:59:23.626-05:00The last time I had contact with the certain boy was December of last year.He never returned my last email, still hurt over feeling abandoned by a friend. I received a mass email regarding a move, and then nothing.I'm not sure he and I were ever meant to be romantically involved. But I do know that the circumstances surrounding us as a couple were disastrous.I needed a friend. Badly. I had had Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1131667684601386962005-11-10T18:53:00.000-05:002005-11-10T19:08:04.613-05:00Today, for the first time in ten years, I ordered checks with the same address on them as the previous batch.Other than that? Meh.Stayed an hour late to attend a meeting for another hour where all the butt-kicking my co-worker and I have done was reduced to...well, meh. Do not tell me it's meh if you want future butt-kicking. Reverse psychology no longer motivates me at work.Late meeting also Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1131580099430325482005-11-09T18:39:00.000-05:002005-11-09T18:48:19.443-05:00In order to tell this story, I have to confess something. I am a non snooze-button person.When the alarm goes off, I like to silence it permanently and let the chips fall where they may. More often than not, I just get up. I’ve had to get up early since high school and it’s just sort of conditioned at this point. (In college, I had physics or math classes at 8am. Every. Single. Semester.) Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1131534699601070202005-11-09T06:09:00.000-05:002005-11-09T06:11:39.616-05:00I call them scritches.Not quite a back scratch. Too gentle for a massage. Not fast enough for the word “rub”. It’s the term I use for lightly grazing a back with your fingertips.I love having my back scritched. I go into goose bumps of pleasure from even a slight brush against my neck. Done right, it will lull me to sleep. Even the most adept will cause a giggle or jump now and then, but theJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1131406552784600622005-11-07T18:29:00.000-05:002005-11-08T06:27:21.143-05:00For those not keeping score, George is my brother and Franchesca is my sister-in-law. And I attempted humor because I hate, hate, hate discussing money, especially when asking someone to give me some. I will pay the entire check at the slightest hint that someone feels wronged or burdened by how it broke down. (You so want to take me to dinner now, don't you?)To: Franchesca@Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1131309793038591792005-11-06T15:38:00.000-05:002005-11-06T16:01:28.873-05:00I realized on Friday that today is my two-year blog anniversary. Or birthday. Or whatever.I've tried to write something poignant, but I seem to be developing arthritis in my right hand. Nothing like yet another reminder of the passage of time.So I'll just say thank you all for reading.I’m not sure which was more endearing.1) When I turned to him to sing “I Will Survive” all sassy in the bar only Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1131142858287316992005-11-04T17:17:00.000-05:002005-11-04T17:20:58.306-05:00Me: Of course, the pigs pre-empted a cute TG post. And we all know the blog should be ALL TG ALL THE TIME. ;-)TG: Um, no, that'd just be creepy.TG: Then you'd be a TG and animal nut.Me: Actaully, sometimes I feel weird when I post about you frequently.TG: why?Me: Like, "Who's this woman who claims to be independent?"Me: "What's in her life besides this guy?"Me: But writing about you is easier Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130967965670744132005-11-02T16:42:00.000-05:002005-11-02T16:46:05.686-05:00Something that’s been weighing on my mind lately is my guinea pigs.To explain that, of course, I have to admit that I have guinea pigs.I think, somewhere, I’ve mentioned them in passing. But honestly, I already own up to three cats. Add two guinea pigs into the mix and don’t you just start to pigeon hole me a bit of an animal nut?(And from here on out, I’m going to interchange “guinea pigs” andJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130800245932577952005-10-31T18:09:00.000-05:002005-10-31T18:10:45.946-05:00TG and I are not the type of the couple who plans their future. Instead? We discuss break-up logistics.“You know, I really got shafted in my last two break-ups. One long-distance over the phone, and one on the heels of a family tragedy. I couldn’t rant or rave or anything. I have some tantrums built up. Just so you know.”“Great. I’ll remember to do it some place public. Like the airport.”“Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130585004421920462005-10-29T07:19:00.000-04:002005-10-29T09:31:29.406-04:00TG and I spent the evening with good friends of mine who just found out they are pregnant.It was a fun time full of good food, bad baby names, and several references to the wife as "my baby's momma.""I think if I tried to use that, I'd be maced.""If you stick around long enough to admit the baby is yours, you can call me your baby's momma."He then pantomimed running and made some joke about the Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130455398131821292005-10-27T19:18:00.000-04:002005-10-27T19:34:31.810-04:00Sox won! Whoo!I stayed up to watch. It was a bit anti-climatic when the person beside you can only muster enough consciousness to exclaim, “Yay. Happy Birthday*,” before he turns off the TV and wraps you into a bear hug for sleeping.You know what? I shouldn’t knock that scenario no matter what. It was perhaps the perfect celebration. Only thing missing was a burning vehicle. (You can take a girl Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130367852179588302005-10-26T19:03:00.000-04:002005-10-26T19:04:12.186-04:00I am having one of those days where everything in my head is fucking HILARIOUS. And I wish you all could be in there with me because it is a blast.(Except, sometimes when you DO share days like this out loud? People look at you as if they just realized they have to check the condo for pills again. And then you have to kill them. And then your hilarity is dampened by all the laundry. (I’m a Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130281505470643382005-10-25T19:03:00.000-04:002005-10-25T19:05:18.950-04:00I have come up with a new business idea. It’s brilliant.(Brilliant being proportional to 1) how much alcohol you’ve imbibed 2) how much your current job is SUCKING THE LIFE FROM YOU. And tonight, while you may not believe me, I have not had a drop to drink. Unless you too have to bite your tongue multiple times a day to not quit, I suggest at least five bourbon and cokes before you continue.)(Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130276398948661812005-10-25T17:36:00.000-04:002005-10-25T17:45:51.570-04:00More from the "unfinished folder". And no, I'm not depressed and TG and I haven't broken up. He's out of town, so there's no easy blog fodder there. And the time I've been spending with family and friends has been wonderful but riddled with things I try and keep private. I can only write so many went-there-saw-them-loved-it posts before I want to tear my hair out.I'm also incredibly busy and Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130193051528382922005-10-24T18:23:00.000-04:002005-10-24T18:30:51.543-04:00I was browsing my "unfinished" folder, when I came across this. I like it because it reminds me of all the reasons to fall for someone, of all the silly, concrete details that you can never capture in a "dream list". All the things you never knew could touch your heart, and will probably never touch it the same way again...I loved his voice when he thought of traveling. It got higher pitched Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130150383448091542005-10-24T06:18:00.000-04:002005-10-24T06:39:44.070-04:00I considered taking down last night's post.I like the concept of scary alone. But not when I'm experiencing it first hand.And, rather sickening, I always strive to be a glass half full person. I hate when I'm being otherwise.I did visit my grandparents Saturday. It was a very nice visit, only slightly annoying when I left. (Grandma always fake cries and both ask me to stay longer.)Sunday was R's Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1130113028244254712005-10-23T20:11:00.000-04:002005-10-23T20:31:17.826-04:00I'm alone tonight. Scary alone.I've been dizzy for a few hours now. I ran into the bedroom door sill once or twice. It's just stress. I've had it before. It will go away.Too many thoughts running through my head and no one has the time or inclination to listen.*I would say, "I quit" if I knew to whom to say it. So far Sheba seemed disinclined to accept my resignation.Perhaps that's part of scary Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1129847001440604232005-10-20T18:18:00.000-04:002005-10-20T18:23:21.450-04:00I’m sorry. I suck.I took off Wednesday to rest and relax. After a nice acrobatic routine with TG, I drugged myself up real nice and slept until 10:45am. It’s the first time I can remember that he had to be the one to get up and leave me sleeping in the bed. (And being the cute sweetie that he is, he pulled the comforter up over me just like I do when I leave him.)(Oh, and before the sex and Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1129589260647568942005-10-17T18:46:00.000-04:002005-10-17T18:47:40.653-04:00Today I spent two and a half hours in a meeting where the presenter used the phrase "more busier" repeatedly.Shoot me.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1129544223163642212005-10-17T05:47:00.000-04:002005-10-17T06:17:03.616-04:00Quick notes to keep you entertained until I can write a real post...My weekend was spent almost completely socializing: dinner with TG Friday night, all day Saturday with the bride-to-be and M including them spending the night, then dinner with S, C, H, and a friend of S & R's who's moving to town from Orlando.This was all sorely needed. Work sucked last week, and it's going to get worse before Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1129241128366716032005-10-13T18:04:00.000-04:002005-10-13T18:05:28.373-04:00I woke up in the middle of the night with the feeling that I needed to get up and edit my blog right away.I thought I had spelled “dying” “dyeing”. And I had to fix it before TG had a chance to correct me.Over the weekend, I asked him what he thought of the “power move” post. He said it was, “cute”. I realized later that probably he meant, “Bugging the shit out of me because of your Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1129199420764544722005-10-13T06:26:00.000-04:002005-10-13T18:18:04.536-04:00I am not the writer in the family.Whether you go by degrees (Literature, Classics, History…Physics?) or actual published work*, I fall a distant third or even fourth as someone who can lay claim to that title.*(There’s something coming out soon which I am so proud of I could burst and I really, really want to share but it would also mean telling you my last name so, um, eek. We’ll see.)My father Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1129079753360070602005-10-11T20:49:00.000-04:002005-10-11T21:18:30.306-04:00I'm tired so train-of-thought will have to do.Not because I'm exhausted physically. That would be welcome. Because that would mean that I could go to bed and I would sleep.I have a headache. It's been going on for a few hours.I sent out eight email today. Eight. Sometimes I'll have days where I feel like I don't even know eight people.I booked spa time for me and the bride-to-be this Saturday. Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1129067976920073942005-10-11T17:55:00.000-04:002005-10-11T17:59:36.926-04:00I'm in the middle of sixteen dozen chores. Perhaps another post later in the day. But as I'm surfing my to-do list away, I can't help but check and see if anyone's commented on the flickr badge.Why has no one checked it out? Do you not want to see a picture of TG?I happen to love, love, love the picture I picked for the badge. I can't wait for next summer already.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1128897567830723572005-10-09T18:37:00.000-04:002005-10-09T18:39:27.840-04:00The power move.“Are you turning off the light?”“I have to get up and set the coffee first…you do it.”“I don’t even make my own coffee.”“You don’t drink coffee.”He curled into my body to kiss my forehead, “Exactly.”“It takes two scoops…” I murmur into his neck.“You do not want me to make your coffee. I will fuck that shit up.”“Two scoops…fill the pot to the 4 line…push the button twice…”“Which Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1128649265597052282005-10-06T21:38:00.000-04:002005-10-06T21:43:25.983-04:00“Miss, do you see any strawberry jam up there?”“What kind do you want?”“...Well-““Oh!” she picked up a jar, “I prefer Smucker’s Simply Fruit.”“That will do nicely, thank you.”She placed the jar gently in his basket.As she walked away, heat waves choked her. She felt the red blotches traveling up her neck. She hadn’t even let him finish his sentence. She hadn’t handed him the jar so he could Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1128550069137379362005-10-05T18:06:00.000-04:002005-10-05T18:07:49.143-04:00Don't you love the artistic license of blogging?For example, you can whine about the fact that there is cat poo in your closet and completely omit the fact that you SHUT A CAT IN THE BEDROOM WITH NO WHERE TO POO ALL DAY LONG.And then you can inform the Internet that you are off to have a glass of wine. When really? You mean a bottle.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1128459567266245762005-10-04T16:54:00.000-04:002005-10-04T20:44:30.390-04:00Things on my to-do list:1) Ireland. I want to go. I do not want to go by myself but at the same time I do not want my lack of a traveling companion keep me from going. So instead of trying to plan a big trip, I am contemplating a small three-four day excursion near Christmas. It was not my fantasy to see Ireland in the winter, but I get the week off between Christmas and New Year and it seems Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1128390533453558552005-10-03T21:44:00.000-04:002005-10-03T21:48:53.460-04:00I haven't been writing much lately. Because besides my love life, I don't really know what to say.And, a girl gets to a point, where she doesn't want to always talk about her love life. Not because the main hero reads here. Or because there's anything wrong or complicated (conventional or no) going on.You get to a point in a relationship where your observations are more mundane. I mean, I Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1128296969801478992005-10-02T19:46:00.000-04:002005-10-02T19:49:29.806-04:00“We have to talk.”And talk we did.In the end, nothing has changed. As we both wanted it. But the thing that remains the same is…more. More comforting. More understood. More true.I struggle sometimes with understanding why I’m happy with what we have. It is not conventional. It is not clear that my ultimate desires are somewhere on this road we’re traveling down.But, it is also not clear Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1127940648961989062005-09-28T16:49:00.000-04:002005-09-28T16:50:48.966-04:00You know how sometimes you think of something in the middle of everything else and once you finally get a minute to think about it again, you’re not in a position to do anything about it? Like driving or peeing or on minute seven of the elliptical?So you spend the rest of that activity just repeating and repeating the thing you thought of so you won’t forget it again and actually do something Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1127869861274127532005-09-27T21:03:00.000-04:002005-09-27T21:15:52.550-04:00The art of compromise, mall edition:Passing the Apple Store...Me: Want to buy me a Nano?Him: What?!Me: Just thought I'd ask...you know, in case you'd been dying to spend lots of money on me.Him: I'm good, thanks.Passing the Louis Vuitton store... (Or the Hugo Boss store? Versace? Is there a Versace store? Point is, it was a store that TG knew damn well could cease to exist and it would effect me Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1127781775462239542005-09-26T20:38:00.000-04:002005-09-27T06:22:47.380-04:00Argh. Not two minutes into the 2nd quarter of the game and I see the chances of getting someone to stop by for a little something-something slipping away.Kinda like all the Tennessee passes.Edited to add:He called after OT to discuss the game and mention he'd definitely give me a rain check. Such a gentleman. And such a selfless giver.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1127679225259978782005-09-25T16:13:00.000-04:002005-09-25T16:13:45.266-04:00She seemed a little lost. And a little bi-polar.While he steadily did the rounds from table-to-table, shelf-to-shelf in the store, she seemed to glide and skid, jolt then backup. She’d grab his hand and press close to show him a book, then march away and examine coasters with an intensity that could only mean she was ignoring him.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1127437907110020982005-09-22T21:11:00.000-04:002005-09-22T21:11:47.163-04:00 Frisco Originally uploaded by Jessica In Progress. The look of a cat whose mother just bought a digital camera. And is bugging. the. shit. out of him.(He secretly loves it. Attention sluts, every one of them.)Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1127342087828303242005-09-21T18:33:00.000-04:002005-09-21T18:34:47.836-04:00My plan yesterday was, come hell or high water, I would exercise and write.I wouldn’t describe the 10-hour day as entirely hellish, but I certainly had a headache by the time I schlepped home. I was also hungry, so while I technically skipped out on the intent of my promise to myself, at least I stayed true to the alliteration. The “h”s came, and I excused myself from anything productive.But Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1127169334964474662005-09-19T18:30:00.000-04:002005-09-19T18:35:34.970-04:00By Friday evening I figured I must have given myself food poisoning.While I’m pretty much over the…effects, the symptoms remain. Specifically, tender stomach and nausea. Which means I’m only eating about half as much as I usually do, which means I feel a tad loopy on top of nauseous.Oh, and while I absolutely cannot go a morning without coffee, I have restricted my caffeine intake for the rest Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1126833249335901452005-09-15T21:10:00.000-04:002005-09-15T21:14:09.343-04:00I once was so stubborn with the new boy, about which one of us was more stubborn, that I listened to an entire CD on a Discman in the car while he listened to the radio. It’s not that he wouldn’t have played my CD. Or that we had even argued about music. I just needed to ignore him for that long to calm down and be nice enough to speak to him again without saying, “Tell me. Seriously, tell me.Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1126742446915947182005-09-14T19:57:00.000-04:002005-09-14T20:00:46.926-04:00Randoms:1) After a furious cleaning on Sunday, I decided to close my bedroom door during the day. I’m actually allergic to cats and the idea of keeping the bed as fur-free as possible appealed to me. I felt a little guilty, annexing part of their living space, but I also noticed that the upstairs - complete with cat beds, pillows, and futon - seemed rather unused. I came home Monday to noJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1126571370024267932005-09-12T20:24:00.000-04:002005-09-12T20:29:30.030-04:00I’ve been a bit blue today.Perhaps it’s because I lacked the English skills yesterday to simply say, “Why don’t you come over for dinner?” for no other reason than I’d already suggested dinner earlier and was feeling lonely and therefore wanted him to suggest it.(I’m sure there is nothing more annoying than a woman who wants you to read minds. Unless it’s a woman who has established that 99% she Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1126521867355194792005-09-12T06:16:00.000-04:002005-09-12T06:44:27.986-04:00I drove back to Chicago Friday. I now have 235 and a half reasons to renew my vow of no speeding. Those reasons would be dollars I owe the state of Wisconsin.I called TG minutes after the ticket was issued (he was driving back to St. Petersburg himself at the time, watching an unmarked car in front of him). I knew he'd have the right amount of poor-baby with well-you-deserved-it.I had dinner Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1126209633610485892005-09-08T15:57:00.000-04:002005-09-08T16:35:31.910-04:00How not to do laundry:1) Park in handicapped spot accidentally because it is poorly marked and you are distracted by the fact that the dump was closed and there is rotting chicken in the car.2) Pile laundry up in wheelie basket.3) Move car out of handicapped spot but not before someone else parks next to you who is possibly actually handicapped.4) Limp from car.5) Put $20 bill in change machine.6Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1125960552775824152005-09-05T18:48:00.000-04:002005-09-05T18:49:12.780-04:00He made me a braided arm cuff.It was not offered to me as a Master to Slave – “wear this.” Or even as a cat with a dead bird to the mistress of the house – sure of his pleasure and meaning of the gift regardless of hers.No. It was given to me as a small child gives a mother a piece of artwork.“How nice! Why don’t you tell me about it?”“It’s beautiful! Shall we hang it on the refrigerator?”I Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1125926153381268782005-09-05T09:15:00.000-04:002005-09-05T09:15:53.436-04:00 LAKE Originally uploaded by Jessica In Progress. I called my grandmother from the pier yesterday evening, wearing one of her old swimsuits.“Which one?”“It’s got kinda brown jagged diagonal stripes?”“Oh yes. I remember that one.”I meant to pack my own suit, but I guess I must have been unconsciously prepared for the frigid weather of last year.The high today will be 80.The good thing Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6045482.post-1125751542282749282005-09-03T08:27:00.000-04:002005-09-03T08:45:45.070-04:00The skinny:I’m flying in and out of Chicago, renting a car to get to the cabin. I’ll have my laptop, with wireless at the Brew Moon café, same as last year. I'm not sure how much I'll be posting. A big difference between last year and this one is that I'm putting no expectations on myself. A friend asked last night if I thought I'd get a lot of writing done, and I honestly said no. Don't get Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15865803569569666595noreply@blogger.com