Archive for the ‘I'm so ashamed.’ Category
Swings
Firstly, a yoga report. It was an interesting afternoon. I ended up leaving my house a little too late, so I had to run to get there on time. As I jogged toward the studio, yoga mat in one hand and journal in the other, I suddenly had an image of myself and just cracked up laughing. Can you imagine what a douche I must have looked like, running down the street with a yoga mat and a journal? You know, in case I felt like doing any stretching, or needed to jot down a few thoughts mid run?
And speaking of douchey images of oneself, I have GOT to figure out a way to shut off my inner cynic. This class I’m taking is going to be pretty cool, I think, but it would be a lot better if I could shut off one of the voices in my head. It’s like I’ve got a middle-aged, midwestern republican living up there who always has to tell me what a hippie I am. As I sit in a circle, sharing thoughts, or worse, interpretive dancing, all I can hear is that guy making fun of me, telling me what a silly, liberal, priveleged fruit I am. This is super lame, because that negativity is so not me! I’m a joiner and an excellent sport. I’m perfectly happy to freestyle dance in a circle with other grownups on a Sunday afternoon.
Further evidence of this privelege, check this out:
I accidently paid $8 for some chocolate covered hazelnuts. I thought that sticker said 50% off. SB had to point it out to me. I’m sad to say this is not the first time I’ve been fooled by expensive nuts. One time at Metropolitan Market, home to many guffaw-worthy, yet tempting and delicious grocery items, I accidently bought a $22 nut sampler. I didn’t look at the price when I picked it up, but when I was checking out and my apple, sparkling water, and nuts came to $27, I did a poor job of hiding my surprise. I’m ashamed to admit, I was too embarrassed to put them back.
Thanks all for your advice with the sleeping. It’s pretty effing bleak around here right now, as far as that’s concerned. I feel as if he’s a newborn again. In response to several of you who suggested eliminating the second nap, I’d be happy with ANY nap at all during the day. I completely agree with Amy in the comments though, and this is what he needs from me right now,
and it won’t last forever. As it stands, there is no sleeping unless one of us is holding him, day or night. Which means I get nothing done while he’s napping, and I don’t sleep at all after his first waking, so I’m up from 2am-7am. He better rethink some of this if he doesn’t want to be an only child. Wait…
Lastly, I’ve hopped on the Words With Friends bandwagon, so if you want to play, I’m ZestyJenny.
Ooh! Here’s some cuteness for you. Clearly, I found myself far too amusing:
* title: There’s a funny little moment at the end of recess across the street, when I hear the bell, the kids all run in, and if you look out the window right then, the playground is deserted but all the swings are still moving. I love it when I catch it.
Posted by Jenny @
3:48 pm |
Oops.
Just when I think I have nothing to blog about besides baby stuff, I go and do something stoopid and amusing that of course must be shared with the internets.
Yesterday, whilst curling my eyelashes, I had some kind of wierd hand spasm or lapse of concentration, and the resulting jerk pulled out about 80% of the eyelashes on my right eye.
Yes, yes I did.
I know you can’t really tell in that picture, but believe me, it’s serious. I have about 10 puny eyelashes left on my right eye. There’s even a huge bald spot in the middle. Thank god for mascara, I guess.
Do eyelashes grow back? Quickly? Please tell me good things.
Posted by Jenny @
3:19 pm |
This is what blogs are for.
I just had to go to a meeting in another building on campus on the 5th floor. When I got into the elevator, alone, I was immediately assaulted by a horrible stench. I looked all around for the steaming pile of poo I thought MUST be somewhere inside, but I found none. I held my breath, pressed the 5, and prayed it wouldn’t stop anywhere, but OF COURSE, it did.
Two dudes got on at floor 3 and had visible reactions to the smell, and there was just little ole me in there to blame it on.
INTERNET: It wasn’t me.
Posted by Jenny @
3:34 pm |
Proof I am very, very old.
A recent trip to the mall *shudder* resulted in the following observations, all proof that I am indeed ancient and most definitely no longer cool.
I saw the following footwear for sale. I couldn’t believe it! I rubbed my eyes and shook my head, yet it remained:
At Nordstrom, right out front with the cool shoes, not in the back with the orthopedic sandals, they had two pairs of these displayed, in God help us, aqua and yellow. Really? Seriously? These are back?
I ventured a little further in, where I saw these:
I had these in about 4 different colors in the the 9th grade. I think this is the first time stuff has come back that I actually remember wearing, you know? The 80’s trends don’t really count, because honestly, I was in the 6th grade in 89′ so I never really wore those fashions, but early 90’s? We’re bringing back the early 90’s? What’s next? Russel sweatshirts with matching hair scrunchies?
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, but these were there, too:
Did we all not suffer enough sweaty feet and plastic-y blisters? Why force these calamities on further generations?
I wandered past the Abercrombie store and noted geriatrically that the music was way too loud. And why is it so dark in there? Who wants to shop in the dark?
My continual shirt crisis led me to the Gap, where once again, I felt like a senior citizen. Yes, I realize this layered shirt look has been around for quite some time, but all the mannequins in the store had about 4 shirts on each, and they were all super rumply. I had to stop myself from straightening their schlumpy layers.
This particular trip to the mall comes on the heels of a conversation I had this weekend in mixed company about the New Kids on the Block reunion. I shared my memories of sleeping outside on the sidewalk to get tickets to see them at the Puyallup Fair, reflected fondly upon my collection of NKOTB mini-buttons I attached to my jean jacket, etc. Jordan was my favorite. I attempted to poll others on their favorites, but no one really committed and the conversation moved on. Later, we started talking about how old everyone was, and that’s when I realized that I had been talking to a bunch of people in their twenties about the New Kids on the Block. So, if I was 12 or 13 when I was into them, these people were, like, 8. One of them, was FOUR.
OH MY GOD.
Someone get granny to stop blathering about the olden days!
Posted by Jenny @
12:00 pm |
Yes, I did.
The only way to deal with something embarrassing, I’ve found, is to just get it over with and tell the whole internets.
Last night, I
…oh I can’t do it!
Last night,
I.
Fell asleep.
During Ocean’s 13.
Really. With Clooney and Pitt and Damon in their smooth outfits, prancing about on screen, larger than life, I fell asleep. Even the lovely addition of Eddie Izzard couldn’t keep me awake.
Now everyone’s talking about how good it was, and I wasted ten bucks. I guess 10:20 is too late for me to see a movie on a Sunday night.
Excuse me, I must go play shuffleboard and talk about my ailments and the weather.
Posted by Jenny @
3:34 pm |
Private Bathroom Behavior
I wanna talk about private bathroom behavior. Nothing gross, just stuff you do when you’re alone. You know what I mean? Usually these things are only for your home potty. In public, you do your business and get out, all efficient like. But some public bathrooms, if you use them all the time and they’re clean, can achieve the comfortability of your home potty, like the one at work. (right?)
So, a couple of weeks ago, I was at Workplace and I was still in the deer in the headlights faze. Every moment of the day was spent with my shoulders up by ears and my eyebrows raised, trying desperately to look like I was keeping up. Because of this, the bathroom was like a little oasis. It was the only time in the day when I relaxed a little, when no one was asking anything stressful of me.
On one of these trips, I found the bathroom on my floor blissfully silent. I went in to a stall, and after I peed, I sat there for a minute taking deep breaths, trying to relax a little. Then, I maybe picked at my nail polish a bit, blew my nose, and spit shined a smudge off my boot.
When I finally exited the stall, I decided to check myself out a bit in the nice, big, full length mirror they have in there. We don’t have a full length mirror at home, just one where you can see down to about your knees. I can never see my whole outfit at the same time. So, I checked out how my boots looked with my slacks, (I determined they were a hair too short to wear with such a high heel) and you know I peered over my shoulder, performing the patented ‘check out your own ass’ spinal twist.
I had completed my lengthy examination and had just started to wash my hands when I HEARD A SHUFFLE from deep in the corner of the handicap stall. OH MY GOD. I immediately turned off the water, and FLED, skipping the paper towels and drying my hands on my pants. I felt like I had been caught masturbating or something, like someone had observed the most private of acts.
That poor lady. I’m sure she was waiting for me to get the hell out of the bathroom so that she could fart or whatever, and there I was taking nine years because I thought I was alone.
I don’t really have a point. Maybe the point is, save your P.B.B for home, but now I’m wondering if I’m alone in this. Do you do this kind of stuff at work too?
Posted by Jenny @
10:21 pm |
Beyonce, BE GONE!
I’m sorry, but there will be no blog post today as there is nothing inside my brain but Irreplaceable on constant loop.
I know I’m a couple of weeks behind the curve here, but to the left, to the left seems to be my default setting at the moment. It’s all I hear when I don’t have something occupying my brain. Today has looked like this:
think hard
work
finish task, press send
“….cause you was untrue, rolling her around in the car that I bought you-ooo, Baby drop them keys, hurry up before your taxi leaves…”
GET OUT! GET OUT!
get up and go look in fridge
open door, peer in the back
“…Standing in the front yard telling me how I’m such a fool, talking ’bout how I’ll never ever find a man like you…”
GAH!
Beyonce, you kick so much ass. I love you. But please, girl, GET OUT OF MY HEAD!
Posted by Jenny @
3:08 pm |
OK, maybe not the most PC of nicknames, but you should see his bumper stickers.
Me: I’m fairly certain that at some point while I was asking the Racist Cripple* if I could mow his curb grass, I used the phrase, “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”
SB: Oh no. You didn’t!
Me: (wincing)
SB: Oh my god. That’s so bad. You have to blog about this**.
Me: I don’t think so.
SB: It’s so awful. You HAVE to.
* Neighborhood Character. No legs.
** It’s always nice to know that I have spousal support for telling embarrassing stories on the internets.
Posted by Jenny @
9:18 am |
Roll Call
I wanted to figure out all the bells and whistles and remove unsightly things like “edit this” before I dove in to posting again, but I’ll just have to work it out as I go. I’ve got posts a pilin’ up. There’s Thanksgiving family fodder to share, I’ve been to jury duty, and today and tomorrow I’m having another glamorous extras adventure.
Do you like the new digs? It’s so exciting! I’m a dot com, even. Isn’t that cool? The ONE thing that’s lame is that I lost all my comments. It’s not like I really had that many, but still, it’s a bummer. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t signed up for the stoopid Blogger Beta, everything would have transferred perfectly. Here I thought I was being all smart and techy. At least I learned something. Apparently, signing up for Beta anything means signing up for all the bugs they haven’t worked out. Who knew?*
So, in honor of the new site and to make up for my loss, would you mind saying hi? I hate to be such a comment whore, but according to my site meter, there are more of you than just my mom and the two or three people** who comment sometimes. Soliciting comments is pretty embarrassing, but please? I’ll just be over here, showing a litttle leg.
* You probably did. Just humor me.
** Thank you lsgp, jill, jayare, tia, finelly, tgdc, victorian, noreen, beth c, whinger, Carnies, and anyone else who has ever left a comment. I can’t go back and get your links or check I didn’t forget anyone. Please forgive me, pretty commenters!
Posted by Jenny @
3:58 pm |
Okay, there was one other thing I bought at the Ba…
This is totally embarrassing. I can’t believe I’m posting this temporary insanity upon the internets, but for some reason, I feel the need to confess.
I bought this cute little wooden music box airplane, too.
Awww.
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.
For my baby’s room. My fictional, someday baby. Fictional Someday Baby is a boy, apparently.
I don’t know what came over me. There I was, scanning the myriad junk piles for treasures, when I saw the little plane, and I lost my damn mind. I gave the key a few turns, the melody tinkled merrily, the little propeller rotated sweetly, and I decided it was the perfect little thing for Fictional Someday Baby’s little room.
It is clear I’ve gone nuts. Perhaps I AM thinking a little more seriously about babies.
No worries, though, because apparently, Old Navy is having a baby sale! I’ll take the brown one, please.
25% off selected styles
Originally uploaded by picture_ho.
Posted by Jenny @
11:00 pm |
