I am the captain of my soul

I don't know if the new apartment is not conducive to writing, or if I am just running a little low on the creative/motivational juices because it has been a long time since I have put fingers to the keys and entertained y'all. But, here I am on a Friday night with nothing to do but blog. Depressing? You bet.

I better start by talking about the new apartment. So, in true fashion..

1. We live in a tree. We are like the "Swiss Family Robinson" without the annoying younger know-it-all brother, Ernst. (Seriously, could that guy be any more irritating?) Actually, there is a large pine tree outside our window, and so it only feels like we are living in a tree. Heck, a girl can dream, can't she? The best part of said tree is that in the winter it will be like we are living in a Christmas Tree!! Actually, the best part of the tree is how it keeps our apartment ridiculously cool...

2. We have no cupboard space in the kitchen, so it is a good thing we don't have a lot of kitchen stuff.

3. We have a killer balcony that is so big, that it is about half the size of our living room. We just need to get some lawn chairs, and we can spend every night on the proverbial "front porch", if the front porch is an awesome balcony that is basically in a tree.

4. Our windows have screens in them!! This is especially favorable because it means that I can sleep with my windows open, and not have to get up three times in the morning to kill the wasps who have come in.

5. We live on the North side. This was never more apparent then when I was trying to fall asleep last night at 2:00 am and there were some guys in our parking lot who were trying to make the world's worst you-tube video. What I heard was extremely loud clomping and then a voice yelling "Record me running on top of all these cars!!" Class. Right there. You just don't get those kind of shenanigans on the south side. Over there its just the "Beating up your girlfriend show" with my favorite follow-ups, "Let's smoke pot all night in the house", and "The world's most dysfunctional relationship, otherwise known as Jarett and Jen". And, of course, who could forget the Saturday morning Sex Show? Yeah... I'll take "guy running on the hood of my car in pursuit of good clean fun" any day. At least that way I am not alternately getting the munchies and trying not to vomit.

So these days my life is pretty darn boring. Mostly because I am now officially out of YSA (yes, 31 will do that to you...), and also because I am grossly poor. I end up working, watching movies, eating, working again, watching Scrubs, eating, working... you get the picture. This singular life style has had a bit of an effect on my happiness, let alone my waistline. I am starting to develop a fear that I will never meet the person I am supposed to be with, or even someone to date. This fear stems from a few factors: My advancing age and the lack of older men in Lethbridge, and my not so stellar career path with Student loans to boot. Couple this fear with a raging case of Summer heat, and you've got one unhappy girl.

So...as I lay on the couch this evening feeling a bit sorry for myself, I realized something. We make our own happiness. As a very wise man once said, "No one can make you feel anything. If you make up your mind to have a good time, you will." Now my dad was talking ostensibly about Stake Dances, but I have seen him put this advice into action in his own life: Therefore, I know that it is applicable to more than feelings of teenage insecurity about being a wall-flower.

What can I do to feel good about my life? What makes me happy? Well, here are a few things:

-Singing
-Reading
-Finding a really good salad dressing
-living in a tree
-The Sword and the Stone...Disney style
-being a hostess
-cooking
-walking
-my Family
-pyjama pants
-franglaise
-movies
-Boggle
-my hair straightener
-"la fille aux cheveux de lin"

I guess the answer to my ennui is thus: cook a few great meals, read some amazing books, learn to play some Debussy, plan a great party, get my Boggle on, and wait for my boys to come so I can be surrounded by males who will not be afraid if I happen to touch them.

Be happy, everyone. Move to the North side. And, most of all,

please-

please.

Go to church.

I saw something nasty at Chapters 934

Last night I saw a most disturbing sight at work. There was this "couple", or at least that is what I thought they were, rough-housing/romping/playing piggy-back/I am not really sure what/ in the power aisle. When a colleague and I got a good look at them, we were slightly horrified to see that the man looked about 40, and the girl looked about...13. Bear in mind, we weren't that close to them, and they were hanging onto each other in a way that we couldn't get a really good look at their faces. So, there were a few pedophile jokes made...questions about where the creepy van in the parking lot was. Pretty standard stuff. However, the story takes an interesting turn as I got a better look at them while I was at the cash desk. The man absolutely was 40ish (balding, bearded) and the girl was definitely not more than 13 or 14. There was also a teenage boy with the duo at this point (he was not involved in the "canoodling"), which led me to believe that it was some sort of...daddy-daughter rough-housing/romping...uhh, you get the picture. Unfortunately that picture is seared into my brain.

Anyway, good morning to one and all...or if you are 8 hours in the future these days, good afternoon. I hope you are enjoying France. I am not jealous.

I am not jealous.

I was greeted last night by the inevitable. A letter was waiting for me when I got home from work that let me know that I was not accepted to the University of Saskatchewan. To soften the blow of rejection, Doreen (who does not work at Chapters...hah! beat you all to the punch! You will never win at my game) Petrow, Admissions Secretary for the College of Law, wrote these words:

"I wish to thank you for you interest in our college and wish you success in your future endeavors"

I can not begin to tell you how these words have eased the pain with their sincerity, originality, and heart-felt honesty.

Joking aside, I am not overly upset about this set-back. I reconciled myself a few months ago to the fact that I probably wouldn't get in, and at least I know now what I need to do, and how I can proceed in my life. Yes, I will write that blasted LSAT one more time, and then I will apply to many schools to hopefully increase my chances. In the meantime I will continue to look for a better job (please, if you hear of anything, let me know), and will enjoy my new apartment with Denise.

And really, rejection is just par for the course for me. Oh, come on. You know its true.

O.k., poetry day!! Here is one of my favorites for the lush language that conjures up a feeling of summer. Also, the Vaughn Williams setting of the text is amazing - check out the song/video by Ian Bostridge on my facebook profile (under songs iLike). The video is a bit goofy, but Williams' warm chords and Bostridge's clear English tenor (are there any other kind?) make my hear melt a little when I hear it.

Silent Noon (Sonnet XIX)

Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass,-
The finger-points look through, like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace.  The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
All round our nest far, as the eye can pass
Are golden kingcup fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge
'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

Deep in the sun searched groves, a dragon-fly
Hangs, like a blue thread loosened from the sky:-
So this winged hour is dropt to us from above.
Oh! clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower
This close-companioned inarticulate hour
When twofold silence was the song of love.

 -- Dante Gabriel Rossetti

New look! New look!

Yesterday I spent about an hour on the blog, but didn't write at all. Being the Luddite that I am, I didn't really know a lot of the ins and outs of Blogger, and so after Denise showed me the different options and applications, I went a little crazy with the pictures and the profile and what have you. Hence the wasted hour on the internets. This hour, however, was only indicative of the day that I had yesterday. Sure I went through a lot of my stuff to do de-junking for the big move, but mostlyI watched some "Angel" saison trois, ate some Babybel, wandered around the house, and lazed around the house. Ah, Saturday!!

So, we are definitely moving now. We found a fantastic little apartment on 14th Ave north and it is right across the street from Stan Siwick Pool. Hello to Aquasize!! When we looked at it, we just felt like we should be living there. Saturday, we are moving officially. I will be moving wards, but I suppose that's o.k.

Anyway, hope you all enjoy the weekend. Come to our pot-luck if you have anything to bring.

Queries, updates, and a smattering of poetry

I have a couple of questions. Queries, if you will. So, please don't ever let it be said that Jenny is not quizzical, 'cause she is. Obnoxiously so.

1. What happened to all of the cute guys who used to work at Starbucks? Remember Mark? The adorable guy with the most beautiful voice? I used to hang out in fiction just to hear him call out the orders...Never has the phrase "I have a grande green tea frappucino" sounded so good... Then there was Jason, the swimmer with the deliciously curly hair. Now there is bald guy, old guy, and kind of cute but mostly just funny looking tall guy. Apparently all the cute ones are now at Kinkos.

2. Why is risotto so good? I made my second risotto this week for the new "trifecta of awesome" dinner tonight. It was such a throwback to the days in Edmonton when I used to have dinner with the Piccos (the wonderful family I worked for who fed me pretty much every night during my first two years of University) when we used to have barbecued steak and risotto. It has been years since those days, and I was getting a hankering for some great Italian food. So I found a recipe on the internet, and made my very own risotto. I am not trying to toot my own horn, or anything, but it was pretty darn delicious, and if you want some, you need only to ask, because it won't be long until I require my next fix...

So, with questions out of the way, here is some news from the store. We have a new manager, and he is none other than our dear Travis K. There is also some other news, but that will have to wait until Sunday when it is officially announced at the semi-formal staff meeting we are having. Yes, you read that right. A semi-formal staff meeting. Not only do I have to give up three hours of my Sunday, but I have to do it in a dress. I have been feeling out other staff, and most people are not overly impressed, mostly because none of them actually have semi-formal clothes. That is not my problem, I just like to take off the dress clothes at 2:00, and now that I am not inundated with firesides every week, I don't like to put them back on.

O.k., Thursday. Poetry day. I thought I would include a bit of everything today, just to make up for my lack of writing. I apologize about last Thursday, but I was somewhere over Greenland. How often do you get to say that?

So, first, a shout-out to Andrea with a little poem from the old days. Who does not love a little W.C.W.?

This is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

- William Carlos Williams

I am also giving you another poem of mine from the old days - specifically, from my last days at the U of A.


This is my...

On the last day of class
you wore royal blue.
I was reminded
of your sharp comments
and - I think it was-
disappointment?

But I also remembered
how it felt to walk
into your room,
the sound of my name
and your devastating hair
and humour.

-J.K.O. Aug. 11th, 2004

Remember everyone: "If you can dream it, you can do it".

Is anyone else tired of paying for their internet?

This will be a short one as my time is running out and I do not want to pay more than a euro for this computer.

Yesterday Jess and I went down to Grafton Street where the shopping was magnificent, the clothes were delightful, and the accessories I bought myself are positively fantastic. (What? Jenny use superlatives?) We glimpsed in to St. Stephen's Green with promises to come back.

Adam and Sam are here now, so we are going to go to the Dublin Zoo either today or tomorrow.

The weather has been absolutely glorious, and I hate to stay inside!

Talk to you soon!

"Just two adults getting their stew on"

Jess and I could both not believe that in the plethora of correspondance we sent out yesterday about the stew we made, we did not once make reference to this quote. It wasn't until we were eating the delicous dish that it came to both of us. I have rectified the situation soundly by making it the title of today's post. Our Irish stew (no, there was no Guinness in it - if I ever decided to jump off the wagon, it would be in a far more spectacular way) was like heaven's food. Seriously, angels inspired us to make it, and helped us at every step of the process. The meat and vegetables were both fresh and delicious, which made the broth sweet like candy. The best part is that we have a whole pot left over for supper tonight.

Let's talk food. We have eaten yogurt for breakfast, although this morning we had lovely scarambled eggs with fresh basil and aged Irish cheddar. Every lunch we have had bacon and tomato sandwiches. The rashers of bacon are the things that dreams are made of, and the tomatoes are so cheap at the Moore Street Market, that we have been buying them by the dozen. We have also been indulging on melons and grapes and strawberries - all of which is found at the Moore st Market. We are eating like queens, and we haven't had to go out to a restaurant yet. Our apartment is really nice - hardwood floors, full kitchen and living room, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms. We figured out the washer (sort of) and we have next to sort out the oven. There is a manual, thank heavens, because all of the symbols are completely greek to me.

Off to the south part of the city and the Liffey today. I will even actually start using the camera!

Here's hoping that all of you get the chance to get tricked into a date, not just our dear Denise..

Play some bacci ball for me tonight.

Go to church.

Musings on art, dodgy establishments, and mid-morning shopping

I have now become an inhabitor of Internet Cafes. They are as plentiful here as Starbucks in Noth America. The ones I have been to, however, including the one I am in right now have all been dodgy for different reasons. The first one I found was actually a gaming centre (this should alert you to what types of people were frequenting the establishment), and it was up a couple of flights of stairs in what apeared to be some guy's living room. Dark, sketchy, and filled with gamers. However, the guy running it was really nice, and it was only 1 euro for an hour. Today's choice is a bit better lit, but smells like a guy's bathroom, and is hotter than I can handle.

Dublin today was a bit rainy, but great for shopping. Jess and I went "down to the shops", and enjoyed being out with the many other shoppers. We love that the shopping streets are all just pedestrian roads. In the afternoon we went to the Hugh Lane City Gallery, where we saw some wonderful art and some modern installations that were...not so wonderful. I know that I am not versed in the ways of art, but the pieces did not "speak a thousand words" like the placard promised they would. Some of my highlights included a winter scene by Monet, a bust of Michael Collins who just looked a lot like Kenneth Branagh, everything by a painter named Osbourne (I think his fist name was William) and the stain glass by Harry Clarke. These last pieces were absolutely amazing. Seriously. Look him up on the Google. You will not be sorry.

Off to church tomorrow! We are pretty sure we know how to get there, and we are not afraid to ask the bus drivers.

Enjoy the past. Stay in school. Go to church.

Only a day late or first post form the future

Wow. I am actually in Dublin. In Ireland. In Europe. Where I am actually meant to be, I am pretty sure. Anyway, it was not too bad getting here, and there are not too many stories of craziness, but I will exaggerate as I usually do.

On Wednesday, I caught the plane in Calgary (in excellent time, thankyou!) and did the overnight flight to London. I only got about 3 hours of sleep, but my tiredness didn't kick in until a lot later. I made it to the other side of Heathrow, which was a journey in itself. That place is huge! I then flew to Dublin, and the airport was so loud and bustling that I felt a little overwhelmed. I caught a city bus to O'Connell street, not really knowing how long it would take to get there. I asked a crazy lady when I would be at O'Connell, and she let me know where to get off. It was only supposed to be a short walk to the apartment, but apparently you are never supposed to know where you are in this city. I took me about 20 minutes to find that streets are marked in fading letters on broken fences and sides of buildings. Needless ot say, it took me about 30 minutes to find the apartment which was about 3 blocks away. On the map, Granby Place was a street, and in life it is an alley. Sketchy? you bet!

I got settled in and went out for something to eat. When I got back, I turned on the kitchen light, and one of the bulbs exploded all over the kitchen. Awesome. Also, there was no broom. The Handy-man came the next day (today) with a new bulb, but no broom, so I used the mop to "sweep" up the glass. Luckily there is a "hoover", so I will not get too much glass in my feet.

Jess is here now, so I am thrilled to spend time with her and do some sightseeing. I am prety proud of myself for travelling alone and getting here relatively unscathed. The worst thing that has happened to me is that I came within about 6 inches of stepping in human poo about 30 minutes ago.

Sorry I missed poetry day, but I was pretty tired last night and writing pretty much jibberish in my emails last night. (I you were a recipient of one of those, I am sorry...) Anyway, I am going to include a poem I wrote last weekend, even if I am a day late. Hey! I did misplace about 8 hours, you know.


For Him

Your handwriting is curious
but, then so are you-
a curiosity.
One contradiction follows another
when you walk by

Your quiet tones
and laconic manner
are belied
by the words slashed across the page
conveying confidence
and even urgency

Your fingers-
impossibly slim
strong and balanced
must fairly dance across the page

Oh, to be a pencil in your hand...

JKO, May 2008.

Poetry Day

It is Thursday, my favorite day for a host of reasons!! These reasons now include "Poetry Day"!! Ever since I declared Thursdays poetry day (o.k., it has been a week), I have been reading it and even writing it a bit, and so have been kind of crazy... Anyway, I am working on something right now that will hopefully be ready next week (I'll even post from Ireland if I can find a computer), so this week I will include a poem that I discovered about 6 years ago. I dedicate it to everyone who thinks they know everything about me...or for that matter, to anyone who thinks they know any person fully. There are things that are too precious, too loved, too embarrassing, or just too private to share. Or, sometimes when we spend a lot of time with people, we continue to talk about the same things or react to experiences the same way. Maybe we need to delve a little deeper, and find out something new about the people we know. We just may surprise each other.

The Discovery

do not imagine that the exploration
ends, that she has yielded all her mystery
or that the map you hold
cancels further discovery

I tell you her uncovering takes years,
takes centuries, and when you find her naked
look again,
admit there is something else you cannot name,
a veil, a coating just above the flesh
which you cannot remove by your mere wish

when you see the land naked, look again
(burn your maps, that is not what I mean),
I mean the moment when it seems most plain
is the moment when you must begin again

-Gwendolyn Macewen

"Laugh tracks are the sound of our brains rotting"

The title is a quote from a former professor of mine in defense of his non-love of particular television shows. I thought it was very apropos of our favorite Thursday night activity, watching "The Office". Ever since I started watching that particular show, and others such as "Arrested Development" and "Scrubs" (I'm going to say it...possibly I have said it before...these shows are as the "triumvirate of awesome" unto me), I have appreciated the fact that I am intelligent enough to know whether something is funny or not. Laugh tracks have become grating and amateur, and seem to lend a mawkish air to the shows that are permeated by them. I have seen shows which I thought were wonderful ruined by all of the maniacal background mirth. Take "Sports Night", for instance. This is one of my very favorite shows. It was written by Aaron Sorkin (pre-dates The West Wing) and its quick humour, intelligent references, and Scrubs-like emotional blind-side punches make my heart happy. Not to mention Felicity Huffman, Peter Krause, Josh Charles, and even for a few episodes, the delightful William H. Macy!! It aired in about 1996, but only lasted for two seasons. I honestly think the reason for its short-lived run is that it really was ahead of its time with its intelligence and inability to be pegged into either comedy or drama. Unfortunately it has a laugh track, and so it feels unbearably forced when the actors are comedic. It is only when the show slips, or careens head-first, into its more dramatic moments, that it begins to feel natural. Don't mistake me, I love this show, but the laugh-track makes me ever so uncomfortable, and also wishful for the ability to prompt myself when to laugh.

Another Friday is upon us, and I could feel the celebratory mood in the air which was radiating from Denise. Thanks to her for spreading the weekend-is-almost-upon-us love!!

O.k., my heart is still racing from what just happened to me in between these paragraphs. I went down to put my laundry into the dryer (Ah, how I love our basement!!), came back up and shut the door. I then saw a movement by the fridge, thought it was a giant rat, let out a kind of squeak, and was only marginally relieved to realize it was the cat from downstairs, who had slipped unnoticed into our kitchen. I let it back downstairs, but he/she seemed hesitant to go. Well, who can blame the guy/gal? If I had to live with the constant screaming, bacon-cooking, dog/girl-friend abusing, Sunday morning sex-romps, swearing, smoking (the list does go on), I would try to escape as well. Maybe I'll kidnap the cat when we move, and call him/her a suitably gender non-specific name such as "Mittens" or "Billi Jo". I'll just run it by Denise first.

A thank-you to Braden for quitting Chapters and leaving me with a Friday night closing cash shift. I will be thinking of him fondly while I am working late this evening. Really, I will.

A big congratulations to Eric for the mission call to the Dominican Republic!! You will be an amazing missionary, and one can only hope there are lots of letters featuring digestion and dysentery.

A shout-out to my Dad who is alone this weekend. Wonder what project he will embark upon this time?...

An apology to Denise for stealing some of her blog components. Imitation is the sincerest from of flattery...

Keep dreaming. Keep laughing. And, for the love of Pete, Go to church.

A post for Thursday

Something that I have mentioned before, but not for awhile is the fact that I love poetry. Now I know this makes me a bit of a nerd, but definitely a romantic nerd, wouldn't you say? I love it for its ability to make me crazy and moody and happy and in love with words.
This being poetry month, I have decided to make one day a week, we'll say Thursday, poetry day here on the good old Jenny-blog. I will include my own creations, and definitely verses that I adore by others.
So, here is one that I wrote recently, posted here, but removed the next morning. I think that enough time has passed to make it ok for me to see it in print. In the cosmos. Visible to all of you.

Enjoy. Or not. I am not the boss of you...yet...

The Knife

We talk constantly
(words flying nowhere and everywhere)
about change
but our familiar errors
and comfortable mistakes
always bring us back here

O.k.
I like my circles.
Maybe these slow persistent wounds
make me feel more alive
than I could have imagined-
even breathed-
before you handed me the knife

Everything about you is sharp-
The way your mind
slices through my heart
and your indifference
cuts me to the floor
Even your kindness proves
a mettle unforeseen

So while I approach that word
Change
with hesitant steps
You are sitting
in the warm and polished corner
of my mind.
the light from your eyes
dancing on the blade

JKO, 2008

Despite all my rage...

Another Saturday morning, and another blogging sesh.

I was supposed to drive out to the lovely metropolis of Magrath this morning to return my car to its rightful owner for a few hours, but because of the heavy snowfall (a meteorological warning snow-fall, no less) I am sitting here like a rat in a cage. Oh, what exciting unpredictable weather we do enjoy in this part of the country. I would write more about it if strange weather was not to be expected at any given time. Seriously, people, this is just par for the course here in good ol' Southern Alberta. 20 - 30 cm in a weekend in April is so ridiculously normal that I am literally yawning while thinking about it.

Bored now.

The breaking news is that I am now officially headed to Ireland in a few weeks with a real live passport. For the last two weeks there were some tense moments where I thought that either I wouldn't be traveling, or that I would have to poke out the eyes of the gentleman who told me my passport qualified for simplified renewal. It didn't. For all of you who have not heard the story, it involves me trusting the guy at the Lethbridge Passport Office, two forty- dollar trips to Calgary, hatred for all government employees, a beautiful maiden in distress, and finally the promise of a spleet-new Passport that will be ready to pick up on...May 2nd. Oh, yeah. It also features me sitting in the Passport Office in Calgary in the midst of a blizzard, wearing shorts and flip-flops.

So, last night I went to "The Slice" for another concert. Wait, I'll back up. A couple of weeks ago, Ashley and I went to "The Slice" to see someone perform on a friend's recommendation. We had no idea who it would be, and when we ended up seeing Danny Michel, we were blown away by his talent and his music. I think we were also each hosed out of 20 dollars, but maybe the guy working that night who charged us 25 dollars to stay for the concert could tell we were easy targets. Maybe he also really needed the money. Anyway, we went last night to see Peter Katz, who I had heard, but not seen. Besides being ridiculously, adorably, heart-stoppingly good-looking, he was unbelievably talented. It was just him and the guitar, but he sang with such energy, conviction, and all-out passion for his music, that he wanted for absolutely nothing. I know I sound a little overly-dramatic, but he was so wonderful to listen to. He was one of those performers that is so much better live, his recordings are almost a disappointment. It was seriously the best five dollars I have ever spent. The real highlight of the performance was when he came out in front of the sound system (and 1 foot away from me!!!) and sang without a microphone. He got people to actually stop talking, and played one of his most beautiful songs called "Forgiveness". It brought such an intimate dimension to the song itself, and to the whole room. This was no small feat because most of the people were there to hear the next band, which looked pretty young and mildly obnoxious-hence, a youngish, mildly obnoxious crowd at the venue. However, once he got people to quiet down, the message of "Forgiveness" is powerful, and it came through so much more palpably with his quiet and sincere rendition. Although he was the opener, he played for a full 45 minutes, and those of us at the front table were ever so grateful. After he finished I went over to put myself on his mailing list, and talked to him briefly. I don't remember what I said, I think I just stuttered out words such as "amazing" and probably came off as pretty crazy.

A big and most heart-felt thank-you to Eric Garner for introducing us to the music of Peter Katz, and letting us know abut the concert. It absolutely started my life.

Well, I think I am going to take advantage of the snow-day, and do some serious cleaning and de-junking of my room. For the last couple of weeks, I have been wanting to incorporate a new theme in my life. Simplify. I think that this will be the perfect way to start.

Stay warm. Enjoy the exile. Go to church.

Jenny

I should only write in the mornings

Here is something you may not know about me:

1. I have terrible bowling technique. Imagine, if you will, me picking up a ball that is much too heavy for me, and while I try gracefully to launch it smoothly down the lane, end up doing a weird hop/skip, twisting myself (and my back in the process) strangely, only to end up dropping the ball onto the wood (I don't think they like it when you do that). This moment culminates in a weird leg sticking out behind me/contorted back/arms askew pose that I am sure embarrasses even those who are enjoying said sport with me. The real problem here (my absolute lack of athletic ability aside) is that the balls that are the right size for me to lift/throw effectively have holes too small for me to fit my sausage-like fingers into. I am at fault, or the makers of the bowling balls are: Either my fingers are just too fat, or the holes are just too small. I am now faced with a series of choices, all of them distasteful. I can:
a. bulk up so that I can easily lift the heavier balls
b. Try to find out how to lose weight in my fingers/get some weird finger liposuction
c. Design and have someone make the perfect Jenny bowling-ball.
All of these choices are either too time-consuming, too expensive, or require a dedication to the game which, frankly, I just do not possess. So, whenever I do venture to "the alley", I will continue to humiliate myself and others. Now, despite all this talk of terrible technique, I at least didn't embarrass myself score-wise last night bowling a 75 and then an 85. Take that, tiny finger-holes!

A happy Saturday to one and all!! I am up early, due to me falling asleep at 11:30 on the couch (hard to believe, isn't it?) and on the computer, blogging and commenting up a storm. I have a little confession to make. I may or may not have found an article that is written weekly by a former professor of mine (yes, he of delicious jeans fame) for the newspaper at the university he now teaches at in Texas. Yes, I am an internet stalker, but I have enjoyed his submissions so very much. They are just witty enough, just thoughtful enough and just pretentious enough to make me wish it was still the summer of 2004 and I was once again attending his short-story class. His last article focused on the negative effects of television, and his often ridiculed decision he made a year ago to not really watch. I left a comment about customers in the book store who worship a the shrine of the only living American deity: Ms. Oprah Winfrey herself.
I know that Oprah is just getting people to read again, but my problem is that they will only read what she tells them to. There are literally thousands of books in the store, and millions more in the world, some of them even well-written. There is nothing wrong with taking guidance from friends, reviews, recommendations, etc when searching for something to read. However, if you are only taking one person's advice, you are missing out on so many more amazing reading experiences. Oprah's opinion is just that: only one person's opinion.
Anyway, I made a comment on his article (much less ranty) to that effect.

The weather is so beautiful this weekend, that I have decided to have a picnic on Sunday. This is a real rite of spring/summer for me, because the first potato salad of the year is always a celebratory moment. It signals the beginning of walks, family gatherings, frisbee playing, shorts, flip-flops, the patio at Mocha Cabana, and all of the other magical aspects of spring and summer. Plus, I just make a fantastic potato salad.

Get out in the sunshine. Come to my picnic. Go to church.

Jenny

Not really anywhere...

...Just surrounded by dead chickens.

Yes, you read that right. I am (metaphorically) sitting in a room with dead fowl at my feet. Chickens that I, in only an attempt to love them, killed by strangulation. Any of you who have read "Of Mice and Men" will know the story which I am referring to. You just start off by touching the chicken. Oh, look! It didn't bite. Now, you move on to stroking said chicken, and finding that it is still relatively unskittish, you continue in this motion until you realize your hands are around its neck, and you have choked the life out of this fragile creature.

Creepiness aside, I have performed this dastardly act too many times in the last year. No, I am not a Satanist, or even someone who enjoys touching chickens. They are actually pretty disgusting. But, I have found myself approaching a situation, or a person with the goal of only being friendly, and ended up strangling them with enthusiasm and/or craziness. Let's examine the most current scenario, shall we? (*Warning: the following story will not shed a favorable light on the author, but y'all knew I was crazy already. So there. Judge away.) The scenario: Me, at the dance on Friday, confused by overtures of friendship from earlier in the day, going against all good sense/kicking the dead horse/losing my head/falling back into old patterns...you get my drift. The result: Becoming absolutely invisible on Sunday morning, not even worthy of a hello, and a drive home in a rage that goes against the lesson I learned from both my mother and Phil Connors: "Don't drive angry!" Although I didn't hit into a pole/drive off a cliff/cause any accidents, I was not a very safe driver. Also, I was mad at myself for not knowing when to quit.

If any of you out there who are reading this have any idea of how to help me, please let me know. Please save me from myself. I apparently can not be in charge of my own life, as I am making an absolute dog's dinner out of every situation I encounter/create.

Also, if you know of any good jobs out there for me...

"Come over to my house, I'll tend to you solo"

Everyone is a better blogger than me.

People are writing right and left, whilst I sit in my living room and merely stare at the computer from across the room, willing the words to transmit directly from my head to my blog site. O.k., actually, I have not written for the following reasons.

1. I am lazy. It is true. I plan on writing, I think of topics and funny stories, I even occasionally venture further than the Facebook while on the internet. But, still I don't write.

2. I was on holiday for 4 days. Yes, there was a computer where I was staying, but I was busy entertaining young boys (wait...), going to recitals, talking myself out of buying purses, sampling fine chocolate, and maintaining my 50% win ratio at Spit-in-the-Ditch (Seriously...Angels invented this game!!) If you have not already deduced the location, or if you do not already live there, I was on vacation in Edmonton. I went up for Adam's Grad recital (which was so wonderful!!!) and stayed for the Kerstin's chocolate, the Plaid Giraffe, card games and 4 of the coolest guys in the world.

3. Nothing overly exciting has been going on. I am still waiting to hear back from U of S, Work is pretty much the same, and I have forgotten how to socialize.

4. I have been consumed by the show "Bones" which I have been watching on DVD. O.k., I mostly watch this show for one angelic David Boreanaz, but I really like the minor characters, the chemistry between the leads, the sass from every character which prompts me to say "s-n-a-p-p-e-r-s" at least 5 times per episode, and really, Agent Seely Booth (the divine D.B.) is just too ridiculously good-looking.

5. I have been doing quite a bit of reading lately, and it has been wonderful. It reminds me of when I was in university, and reading everything I could get my hands on...well, everything but my text-books.

I hope you all have been having a great week. I am excited that it is Friday tomorrow, and I will even be attempting socialization again and attending a dance. Scary. I know. I can only pray they will play "Space Jam".

Or maybe "Cotton-Eye Joe".

Not really that exciting

Everyone at my work is dying.

No, this is not some sort of threat from a disgruntled employee (although...), but a statement of fact from this week at Chapters. Our General Manager is out for the week, on Monday our two main cashiers were both ill, I am still not 100% recovered from my plethora of diseases, and there are a host of others who are also still recovering or feeling symptoms coming on. Who knew that books could be so diseased/hazardous? Needless to say, if you don't have to come in to Chapters...don't. Customers just annoy me anyway.

This is the second late working day of my week, which is kind of weird. I am covering a shift for our dear Travis, who seems to have taken the notion of being sick, and like some 12 year old boy, tried to see how much he could top it. ("Oh, you think you're sick? I am way sicker than you"!!) It was good to see him on his feet yesterday, and we all hope he will be back at work soon. I would be loath to admit it to his face, but cash is kind of falling apart without him. The upside of all this is that I get another sleep-in day, and another working evening with people I don't generally get to see at the store.

Anyway, I hope you all have a wonderful day. Enjoy the sunshine!!

You may have forgotten me...

It has been so long since my last post, that I seem to have forgotten how to writes gud. Oh, man.

I am at my parents place for Easter, and I am seriously contemplating moving home just for the king size bed in the land of Spare Oom. I had the first uninterrupted sleep since I have been sick, and it was absolute heaven. HEAVEN. I am still planning my week where I stay in that bed the entire 7 days. Let's look at the logistics. There is a fridge downstairs and a bathroom. There is also a t.v., and I would bring a plethora of books in order to avoid boredom. Aah, it will be so wonderful, and all in preparation of my life as a hermit. any of you can come visit, there is room for all in the bed, and if you bring a blender, we can make some killer drinks at the bar in the main room downstairs.

Easter, despite my possible strep-throat (the doctor doesn't think I have it), has been an absolute blast. The boys have been so much fun, and I have never been so tempted to kiss children on the lips as I have since I was forbidden not to. (I did cough on one or two of them, but it really couldn't be helped) Mark is actually reading (aah! I remember when you were born!!), Steven has mellowed out considerably and loves to be hugged, and Ben is getting so big. Oh, now I just have to see Sam, and that is only a week away!!

For all of you (o.k., , for Jess and Adam, who I haven't talked to for awhile), here is an update about the last month. I will stick to the highlights, although, there have been the low moments as well. Ask me when you see me if you want to hear any tales of woe. I will spare the general public, and maybe even make it through one post with some dignity intact. Maybe.

1. I have gotten even more comfortable in my new ward. I received the calling of Relief Society music conductor, and i am really glad to stay in R.S. I got a chance to talk with my bishopric, and even though many people consider me the token single gal, they continue to be friendly and welcoming.

2. I got a car!!! Well, I am sharing it with my dad, but nonetheless, I am driving. I know that shocks a lot of people - most of my co-workers didn't know I had a license. So, if you need a ride somewhere within a reasonable distance, give me a call!!

3. I attended, with my dear friends, a Trews concert at the University. THEY WERE AMAZING. I screamed myself pretty hoarse singing along. They were so energetic, and sounded really tight. I had not been to a rock concert in awhile where there is alcohol present, and so forget about drunk people at concerts. Highlights included a crowd-surfer landing on Denise and me, my pants being soaked up to my ankles in beer, the guy who had to be carried off the dance floor by his friend, numerous gropings by guys "passing by" or "squeezing through", accidentally groping a few people myself, and Ashley's concert boyfriend. Oh, also the subsequent deafness lasting the next couple of days.

4. I have been on a reading kick, and have gone through quite a few books. On Jess's recommendation, I read, and loved, The Book of Lights by Chaim Potok. The story was characterized by an over-lying feeling of sadness, and so the moments of beauty and joy that were sprinkled throughout were ever-so-much-more meaningful and luminescent. I find the author's writing so captivating. If you have not read "The Chosen", do it immediately. It will change your life. Or, in the words of A.S., it will start your life.

I hope that all of you are having a magnificent Easter holiday, and I thank you for your patience with my long absence of writing. There were good reasons.

Stay healthy. Read a lot. Go to Church.

Yes, I am fully clothed right now.

I just realized that the name of my blog makes me sound kind of like a pervert. "Hey...you can take off your shirt here. Clothes are for fools!!" I must have picked this title
a. while under some kind of influence
b. while being shirtless, oops, I mean shoeless as well
c. before I started spreading (quite vehemently, I might add) my philosophy about justifiable shirtlessness.

For those of you who have not heard my treatise on the subject, I believe that people should only be shirtless if there is a credible reason to be. Let's try a little experiment, shall we? Yes? (This actually only applies to males...well, unless you are in Ontario)

Scenario #1: You are swimming. Justified.

Scenario #2: You are showering. Justified.

Scenario #3: You are posing for a calender. Unjustified.

Scenario #4: You are WALKING DOWN THE STREET: Absolutely unjustified. Come On!

Scenario #5: You are mowing the lawn. Uhh, the jury is still out on this one, but I'm leaning toward un.

Scenario #6: You are Gerard Butler. No. Unjustified. We are tired of seeing your nipples.

Scenario #7. Your shirt is on fire. Justified. Yes, that's you Peter Petrelli

Well, it has been a short, but a good one. I need to get ready because Mary and I are venturing out to the Opera at the movie theatre. I should probably at least run a brush through my hair.

Scenario #8. You are performing an Opera at the Met.

Only justified if your name is Pavarotti.

Remorse is a dish best served with a rose sauce.

I know, I know. It has been a ridiculous 18 days since last I put fingers to keys and tried my best to entertain you all. You are all wonderful, and I am incredibly self-absorbed to think that you are all waiting patiently by the computer for my update. So, with that prodigious commencement, I will...begin.

Since my last post I have done a few things of note, and even more of absolutely boring proportions. So, I will try to keep it interesting:

1. I wrote the LSAT for the 2nd time, and I am pretty sure I did better this time on it. I didn't feel so rushed, I did much better on the Logic Games , and there were only 4 people writing that day in Lethbridge, so the administrative stuff went a lot quicker. Well, except for the guy who flew in from Taiwan to take the test. Nay, he flew in especially to annoy me with the most asinine questions. "What if I need more paper? Can I have more paper?" What happens if I have to go to the bathroom? Can I leave?" Every time he asked a question, the proctors for the exam had to consult some LSAT manual, have a whispered conference, and then answer his question, with him clarifying every thing they said. Poke. my. eyes. out. Actually, my favorite part o the exam was when I had to write my essay in cursive. I found this extremely difficult, and my hand refused to write smoothly. Instead, I wrote (through no choice of my own) in short spastic bursts. The proctor said that we had to handwrite so "they" could analyze the handwriting. I can just imagine that they have flagged my Law School application with "Serial Killer"! "Do not admit, unless to Criminal Law." Anyway, since I finished writing it, I have been pretty lazy for the last couple of weeks, not having to study, or even feel guilty for not studying.

2. I had a (pretty boring) Valentine's Day party that was only mentionable because of the fondue we had. It was so delicious, that I ate my weight in chocolate. The result? I lapsed into a Sugar-induced coma around 10:00pm on the couch, only to awaken at about 1:30 am and stumble to bed in a haze of swedish berries and apple slices. I woke the next morning with a chocolate hang-over and feelings of remorse for Valentine's Day hi-jinks that gained me only pity, I am sure.

3. I took a walk down memory lane in the good old town of Pincher Creek on Saturday night. Travis and I headed to the windiest place on earth to spend some time with Barbara Coloroso. We were greeted by a blizzard, and got the chance to go to the classy restaurant of my youth, Luigis. The pasta? Not overly awesome.

All in all, not a very busy 2 weeks, but with my Itunes card, at least I have been listening to some great music, and downloading like a fiend.

Keep dreaming. Don't get stuck in the snow. Go to Church. (Don't be like Dirty Pants)

the little blog that could...keep me away from my studies

After reading other friends' posts, I have come to the conclusion that mine might never be more than the "little blog that could." Really, I take such pleasure in reading all of your finely crafted discourses, and I appreciate that you deign to sneak a peek at mine ever so often. Just wanted to put it out there that you guys are great writers. The most I can hope for with mine is that when I print it off, and hide it away for years only to be brought out when my kids are feeling like the world doesn't understand them, that they will be able to read it and realize that they will never be as crazy as their Mom.The comfort may be cold, but comfort (hopefully!) nonetheless..

Remember how I was doing so well with my limited readings of Harry Potter 7? Not. so. much. Today I came home from work early as I didn't really feel very well (Andrea alone knows the story and no other human being will ever get the details...well, maybe Jess and Adam), and I studied faithfully for about 3 hours. Then, wanting to take a break, and feeling my brain literally turn to mush, I picked up the HP sauce...and here I am...3 hours later with the book finished. Cut to me at 6:30pm crying all over again, nay, sobbing hysterically again as Harry makes his way through the forest to (Sorry, that was almost a spoiler alert for the people who apparently do not prioritize Harry above all else... Filthy mud-bloods) As soon as I finished the book, I immediately went back to studying...no, wait. How did I end up at the computer, writing this blog? Some dastardly bit of magic on someone's part. Oh, I'll find you, you unknown curser...and your little cloak too.

So, as soon as I finish here, I will go back to the studying. At this point, however, there is not a lot I can really improve on. I still feel that I will do better this time, even if only marginally. I was lucky to get a blessing from my Dad this afternoon, so I am confident that I will feel well and relatively peaceful tomorrow.

Thanks to everyone for your thoughts and prayers. As Denise says, if it is meant to be, then it will work out. Right now it is the thought of homemade Spinach and Artichoke dip that is sailing me through. Brilliant! It's going to be legen...wait for it...dary!!!

Have fun this weekend. Stay warm. Say a prayer for me. Go to church.