Life According to Me

I have a bowling ball closet. Well, actually every closet in my house is a bowling ball closet. You know that place you shove....well.... everything . Some of you my not understand this because you are freaks of nature( i love you all, deeply ) and have a place for everything. I can relate to that on a certain level. Like the milk, for instance. The milk has a place. The refrigerator. It's things like tubes of wrapping paper, photo albums, the vacuum cleaner, the chia Obama someone thought I couldn't live without. It's these random things I just shove. Imma shit shover, imma shit shover. I will shove shit.... wherever it'll fit.  I hoped, that someday, by osmosis, The Joan gene would kick in, and I would magically be organized. I'd suddenly have olympic skills with the labeler and know exactly where that box of Ticonderoga #2.5 pencils was. I'd Have a mini Costco in my garage, so I'd never have to borrow toilet paper from my neighbor again. I'm ab...

It's Girls Scout cookie season, and how is it that I don't know a single crack dealer Girl Scout?!   I must have Thin Mints. I must have Thin Mints. I MUST HAVE THIN MINTS! I'd rather buy from someone I know....I guess I'll have to hit up the dealers in front of the grocery store. This is somewhat unnerving, considering I don't have any of their beeper numbers. But a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. When I get them home, I will eat an entire stack, carefully, one at a time. The anticipation is almost unbearable..... I am an addict. Got Thin Mints?

Dear Steve Jobs, I have a borderline creepy love affair with my iPhone, I have an iMac, Apple TV and I think I may have evolved into some kind of iHuman.  Apple makes me happy...... buuuut. ....I don't get your new gaget, the iPad.  Am I missing something here? It's a giant iPod Touch. A wee bit reminiscent of Zack Morris' cinder block of a cell phone. It seems, chronologically, out of order in the history of electronic devices. It's like a macbook and an iTouch had a toddler. Am I supposed to carry it in my purse? Or maybe it will come with straps, and I can wear it on my back. Will you make giant bedazzled covers for it? Aside from the vast entertainment value of it's name, the genius who dubbed it should loose all lowercase "i" privileges and be banished to the land of PC. Not hating, just stating. Love You, Regardless. Forever and Always.... iJenn

I can remember the first phone number I ever had, my high school locker combination, my Brownie Troop number and the Girl Scout Pledge. I remember the name of my first soccer coach, my best childhood friends address, and to change the oil in my car. I always remember hair appointments, Birthday's, payday and to feed the cat. I can NEVER remember dental appointments. EVER.  I have a mental dental block. They send me post a card 6 months before, 3 months before, and a call the day before on the house phone and on my cell.  THEN, I get a phone call  on the day of   the appointment, 15 min. after my appointment time. I see who it is on the CID.....only THEN do I remember. I throw the kids in the car and head, in shame, to the office. The disdain is palpable. Oy. When checking out they ask, I'm certain in jest , "Should we send you a reminder?" I say, "Actually I'm hoping you could send a van with a giant tooth on top driven by a thug who will come to my house, ...

Here's the worst feeling in the world.  Plowing through a tube of  Salt and Vinegar Pringles, and eating the last one without realizing you've eaten the last one. No last chip satisfaction. This can happen with cookies, pretzles and pickles, as well.

I'm at the gym with my husband. It's nice to have a sidekick. He's running on the treadmill beside me. I glance over at him and notice two things;  One- He's far too close to the back of the machine. If he flies off and eats floor, I will probably pretend I don't know him. Two- He's holding his hands in a strange way. Like he's giving the hang loose sign....thumbs up, pinky's down...pumping away. In that moment it occurs to me... .th at looks weir d . He's got his headphones in and I can't get his attention to poke fun. Later that night he asks, did I look alright on the treadmill today. Awwww. Bless his sweet, hot little heart.  "Yeah. You looked good " I say, all full of kissy face innuendo. "But what's the deal with your hands?" I can actually see him running back the moment in his mind.  "Oh. My. GOD ." Says he, now visually disturbed at his recollection. "Yeah. I was thinking, what's up with tha...

My appreciation for my mother continues to multiply as I experience my own musings and outrages as a mother myself.  Back in the day, when I was a kid, my mother had, what now seems, an endless cache of patients. Of course at the time, I thought she was like totally not fair ! She never screamed or yelled or lost her cool. She rarely played the Dad card, and never once laid a hand on us. She could, however,   chuck a wicked flip flop down the hall...around the corner...and never miss. I think it was her super power. Her spidey senses were sharp. They aided her in always knowing (well....maybe not always ) what I was up to. She once chased after a car she thought contained me, only to loose the muffler off of Auntie's station wagon as they "Duke's Of Hazzard-ed" it over the railroad tracks. Old school. She made dinner every night, and it was always delicious. She did it all , without a cell phone or the internet  or remote controls or chicken nuggets. She never ...