Effin' rights!

Uhh...hahaha I don't know how this happened, but apparently the picture has been uploaded numerous times.

Ok, so here's the scoop on the life and times of Janelle as of today...On Friday, after I purchased the new black dress, I decided I should have a celebratory drink. I called up one of my co-workers and went over to her house and we got into the vodka...I am not allowed to drink vodka. After 2 slightly strongish drinks, I was toasted. I should have called it a night and gone home...but did I? Of course not!! I allowed myself to be dragged to the shitty Corrall where I drank more vodka, and then threw some tequila into the mix. I almost got in a fight with some chick in the bathroom, and then avoided the bathroom for the rest of the evening.

All was going alright (except for me throwing some strip aerobics moves into my dancing), until I spotted the serious hottie smiling at me from the bar. I staggered over and I'm sure we talked about stuff...what we discussed I couldn't say. After a few more (unnecassary) drinks, Mr.McHottie said he'd give us a ride home because he'd only had a few beers. We dropped the other girl off, and then proceeded to the nearest store to buy chocolate and Gatorade. After a romantic snack time, I said it was time for me to go inside and watch Grey's Anatomy (because I'm addicted to it) and he said he wanted to come too. I told him he could, but no funny stuff...unless the funny stuff was jokes. We ended up watching some Will Ferrell and cuddling and sleeping in...then, when it was time for him to get up and go to work (and time for me to work on curing my killer hangover) he did the unthinkable...he asked for my number. And I, having a lapse in judgement, gave him the REAL one. Well boys and girls, guess what happened...the fucker didn't call. See, I wouldn't care, except for the fact that he ASKED for it...so why ask for a number if you aren't going to dial it with your phone? And why is it that it's always the guys you DON'T want calling you who call?

So now I'm left feeling stupid, especially since I know better (Hello...they don't call me little miss Jaded for nothing) and wishing that I didn't care. It's just that he's 34...and you'd think by 34 he'd be over the games bit...oh shit...maybe he's married? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. There are no Albertans over the age of 25 who aren't married. Unless they are divorced.

Oh shit...what have I done?

*but seriously, why didn't he call?*

To be or not to be...

Good morning boys and girls!

I'd just like to start off today by saying "Thank Jeebus it's Friday!" This week has been nothing short of stressful and horrid. The wost part, by far, is that the new Beta system wouldn't let me log on most of the time. I'm hoping they've fixed that because it ruins my life.

So...now that we have that out of the way...some of you may know that I have terrible luck with the whole 'dating' thing. The truth is, I hate it. Sometimes I think it would be fun to date...and then I do it and I remember why it is that I despise it. I have considered taking the lesbian route, only to recall that while I do find women attractive, they just don't do it for me in the sexual sense. I have been wracking my brain, trying to find a solution to my "sometimes being single is lonely/dating is a waste of my time" dilemma, and so far I have not come up with any concrete plan.

The thing is...I actually like being single a lot of the time. I get to do what I want, when I want, however I want to. I can eat crackers for dinner, drink a bottle of wine, and watch the entire first season of Grey's Anatomy in one evening. I can have a Sex and the City marathon for an entire weekend...and I can wrap myself up in all of the blankets and not worry about someone else being cold. I can flirt, give out fake phone numbers, and dress up just for me. No one ever tells me that I'm falling short of their standards...because I have no one else's standards to live up to. When I look at it that way, I wonder why I'd ever want to be in a relationship. But after a few years of this style of life, it gets boring.

What I really want is this:

Although maybe a slightly less anorexic looking guy. Sometimes a girl needs a little romance...

This leads to my next question...can you have romance by yourself? Is cooking a fancy dinner and eating it by candle light alone considered romance? How about a bubble bath with candles? I just don't find it to be the same...but on the other hand, I know better than to expect things like that from the guys I date...maybe I'm just dating the wrong guys?

Maybe I should just get to work and not worry about it. Some people aren't meant to be in relationships...and I think I might just be one of them.

What a complete waste of my time...

Today I woke up at 5 am...I did my Carmen Electra Strip Aerobics twice...I went to work and climbed the 6 flights of stairs up to my office. I filled out paperwork. I went to our meeting and volunteered to help out with the answering of the phones on the 15th. I was tired most of the day because of my early morning and lack of sleep the night before. I hung out with a few clients. I got a phone call that there was a message for me.

A client said she had an "emergency" and needed to see a doctor right away. I picked her up and we went to the Emergency room. This was at 3:30 this afternoon. It is now 11:38 pm. We spent almost 8 hours in that god forsaken place...and do you know what the end result was? The BIG "emergency" was that she had gotten her period. FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK.

Now I'm all wired because I've been awake for so long...and because I'm overtired. I have developed a nervous twitch. The only good part is that I am claiming 7 hours of overtime for this bullshit. That's 7 hours of doubletime...motherfuckers.

I just took 3 gravol...hopefully the knock me out until at least 7 am. If I wake up at 5 again I'm gonna lose it...lose myself in the music the moment I want it I'll never ever let it go. Yeah. Janelle'n'M. That's me. I have a meeting with the above mentioned client's therapist tomorrow morning at 8:30. I'm gonna tell her all about the shenanigans of the evening, and demand a medal for sticking around the entire time and NOT spazzing at the end. Then I have to pick up my client at 11:45 tomorrow morning to take her up to the office. Hopefully I can find it in myself to speak to her or look her in the eye. Without poking her eye out with a chopstick, of course.

Yay!! More bitching from me! I promise, one of these days it will be a happy-go-lucky blog. Unless of course I get my period and need to go to the fucking emergency room. WHO DOES THAT!?!?!!?

This kid knows where it's at! I fucking love coloring too.

Panic Attacks are FUN!

Hello my faithful readers!!

Today is December the 4th...it's a Monday. Mondays are always exciting, but todays is exceptionally horrid. I have been suffering from either heart attacks or panic attacks. I prefer to think they are panic attacks, because I would like to think I'm not unhealthy enough or old enough for heart attacks just yet.

Life is quite stressful (again) at this time. Tomorrow is the last time of my temporary extension at work...my boss told me it would be continued on, but how long can I do this for? I want to be a permanent employee...I don't want to have to stress right out every month! Right now it's extremely stressful because Christmas is coming, I had to get the heat fixed twice, and I'm completely broke. I am just hoping I'll have enough money to get home for Christmas. I need a financial planner. And to win the lottery. That would be awesome.

I think I'll actually have to get another part time job on top of my regular job...I don't really want to, but a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do. Maybe I'll make some new friends if I get another one. I think friends would be good right now...lots and lots of friends.

Anyways, I gotta get back to work. There is an open house at the AISH office today...AISH is income support for those who are unable to work due to a handicapp. I get to go meet everyone who works there...apparently that would be good for my job.

Thanks for letting me bitch.