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.

Holy Crap I'm freezing!

So, I wake up this morning and I find it a little chilly in my condo. I get up to start the day the Carmen Electra way and I realize that I can't actually feel my toes or fingers. This is strange, seeing as usually when I wake up my body is warm and feeling pretty good after a hard night's sleep. Today on the other hand, was completely different. It was like Saturday morning, when I woke up and froze my nuts off.

Once again, I call the Condo Association asking for someone to come and fix my heat. Unlike Saturday though, no one showed up within the hour. I called at 7 this morning, and it is now almost 1 pm and there is still no one here to turn on my heat. I'm soooooooooooo cold...the kittens are freezing (and insist on sleeping on my neck whenever I lie down). Hopefully this guy shows up soon, because I'm worried that the pipes will burst if they freeze all the way through. (And no, that is not in reference to my female pipes, which are working just fine thankyouvermuch) Oh yeah, and the thermostat has decided to stop registering the temperature. I'm assuming it's doing this to prevent me from getting depressed about the lack of heat...or maybe it just doesn't go this low. I'm wearing 2 t-shirts, a long sleeved t-shirt, a hoodie and a big thick knitted sweater right now. I'm tempted to throw on a toque, a scarf, another pair of socks (over my 2 pairs and slippers that I'm currently wearing) and some long johns. Some mittens would be good as well, although I realize it's difficult to type in mittens.

Ok, time to crawl back under the covers to preserve what's left of the body heat.

I'm going to be completely honest with you...

I think I might be a wee bit lonely.

So Tuesday was the big day...thank you to everyone who remembered. Bite my ass to those of you who didn't. I celebrated by drinking a little, eating some cake, and opening some gifts. Oh yeah, and I cooked myself dinner, and ate it by myself. Depressing...yes. Delicious...of course.

I'm 24 now...time for me to get my shit together? I think not. Today is Sunday, and so I did the usual Sunday things...went shopping with Nicole, ate some lunch, came home, had a nap. Then after my nap I got up, went to the store, came home, baked a cake and dyed my hair. I didn't realize that I was actually lonely until a few moments ago when I took the cake out of the oven. I noticed how excellent my house smelled, how great my hair was going to look, how cute my kittens were...and the fact that I sleep alone every night. I have no one to share the cake with, no one to show my hair to, and no one to make my kittens attack. Woe is me.

Now, back to normal Janelle. I can't possibly be lonely for more than an hour. Let's face it, guys eat more than girls, so if I had a guy here, he would eat more than half of the cake all by himself. Also, I don't feel comfortable doing Carmen Electra's Aeorbic Strip Tease in front of anyone, and I like to do it first thing in the morning, and when I get home from work. Another thing, I only have one bathroom. And I like to take my sweet ass time getting ready for work in the morning.

So I guess what I'm looking for is someone to come over, have one piece of cake, say they like my hair, make out for a little bit, and then leave. Yeah. That sounds about right. Maybe he can stay over one or two nights a week...if I feel up to sharing my bed. But he'd better not snore...because I need my rest.

Jaded? Yes.

Birthday Woes.

So, 4 sleeps until I hit the ripe old age of 24...I'm excited because I won't have to be 23 anymore. Let's just face it, 23 is an extemely awkward age. At least it was for me. But then again, so were the 22 years before that. I'm just such an awkward person. It's awesome.
Anyways, I'm feeling a wee bit down about the whole Birthday situation this year, simply because for the first time since I can remember, I'm not having a party of any sort. Grande Prairie hasn't exactly been fruitful in the friends department, and it seems unfair to force work associates and family members to hang out with me more than necessary. On Tuesday the family is gonna get together up at Grandma's for some cake, and I appreciate that to no end. But this is my birthday weekend...and so far, these are the plans:
Tonight (Friday): Force Nicole to go to the Lion's Den with me where I will drink until I can't feel feelings, come home, be sick for awhile, sleep until tomorrow.
Tomorrow (Saturday): Try to find someone else with whom to repeat Friday's chain of events. Alternative Plan: Sit at home watching shitty movies, drinking alone.
Now don't get me wrong, hanging out with Nicole is one of my favorite pastimes. We always manage to piss at least 2 people off, and that's always fun. I'm positive that she'll ensure I'm drunk enough and not let me stop drinking until at least 45 minutes after the bar closes. So tonight will be enjoyable. It's just so strange to me...I've never had a lack of friends before. My dance card has been full, and I've always had at least one big party to celebrate my vaginal birth. Heck, when I was in Japan, I had FIVE birthday parties...so I guess I'll just have to re-use one of those one's to make up for this year.

Well, I'm feeling as though it might be time to start with the drinking. I have a bottle of wine that's been calling my name all week, and some feelings that obviously need to be drowned in said bottle.

Experimentation...is it right for Janelle?

Today ladies and gentlemen, I have a little treat for you. I am about to write a blog for you unlike any I have ever written before. I am going to inhale a few vapors from a little BC bud and see what comes out of my mind. As you may or may not be aware, I don't usually partake in such activities as the smoking of the weed, but since my cousin so kindly gave me a bit, I feel as though it would be good for me to use it in the name of scientific blogging. So sit back, relax and give me a few moments to collect my thoughts.

*Crappy intermission music playing here*

Ok, I'm back. For some reason, I really enjoy the smell of that stuff. But I don't enjoy the way it makes my lungs feel like they are going to collapse. It's not a very enjoyable feeling. Hmm...basically, I am finding that my body feels a bit weighted down and everything has a nice little haze to it. Hahahaha although the cat just fell in the toilet. And that's funny! Ok, so back to the experiment. I am not really supposed to smoke this stuff because I tend to get overly paranoid. I think people are out to get me and I cry. It's terrible. But this doesn't feel the same.

Hmm...I'm thinking this probably wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had. I'm kinda bored. I'd like to give the cats a bath but I think it would upset them. If I drank wine right now, would I be more or less high? If the answer is LESS than I think I should try it. If the answer is MORE then I think wine would be a bad idea. Although, wine does sound good right about now. My kittens love me. Gizmo is cuddling with me as we speak. Although I guess we aren't speaking, seeing as I'm typing. And you will read. So I guess what I meant to say was, Gizmo is cuddling with me as we type/read, but since she's not cuddling with me anymore let's just forget about it.

If I wrote a novel, would you folks read it? Would you recommend it to your friends? Would you read it to your children? Your brother's children? Would you read it to Jeff while he was in the shower? *that was directed at Ross, just incase you were confused.*

Aah, I miss Jeff...I hope he's ok. He's probably scared and alone. Hahahaha I just pictured Jeff crying and it made me laugh. Oh that was mean of me. Sorry Jeff. I don't think you need to cry. I hope you are eating perogies for breakfast lunch and dinner. Lucky bastard. I wish I could eat a perogie.


I painted my kitchen last weekend. It's bright blue...it's called Jamaican Sea. It's a bit too bright and it really clashes with the carpet. I like it. I have a pair of underwear the exact same color. Mr. Tanaka says "hello" to everyone. He's upset because his body is wet...but maybe if he'd stay out of the god damned bathroom these things wouldn't happen.

I watched Jarhead and Prozac Nation this weekend. I must admit, Jarhead could have used a bit more "Emotion". *please forgive me for mentioning the word. I mean, when his girlfriend dumped him it barely registered. I wanted to see men crying in the tents. I wanted to see sobbing and male bonding. *gags* It was alright, but I only give it a 6/10.
Prozac nation on the other hand was pretty good. She was just such a bitch!! Ms.Ricci played the role of a Bi-polar excellently. I do wish she had been more promiscuous during her manic stage...just to add a bit more oomph into my life (which is completely without any oomph...except self) at this time. Please forget I wrote that.

Hahaha oomph. What a stupid word. Last night I watched 200 Cigarettes. I'll give it about a 6 out of ten. It lost a few points just for having Ben Afflek in it. He's a serious DoucheBag. Also, my grandma could have put on a better punk front than that orange haired freak. I hate clowns! But once again, Christina Ricci was in it, and I have to admit that I like her...I like her because she eats.

My fingers are a bit cold...I should probably go. I'll probably delete this later on...or maybe I'll laugh about it and let it be a lesson learned. All I hope is that one person reads it, and it changes their life forever. Say "NO" to drugs kids!!

lets see if it works

http://widget-8e.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" quality="high" scale="noscale" salign="l" wmode="transparent" flashvars="site=widget-8e.slide.com&channel=288230376152066446&cy=ms&il=1" width="475" height="375" name="flashticker" align="middle"/>

November 4th...Part 1

It was a friday afternoon...I had been busy all day at work, and thinking how nice it would be to have a laid back, relaxed kinda evening with the kittens. My friend Pam called me and said she was in town, so we decided that she should come to the Vet with us and then we could go out for dinner. The vet excursion was superfun. Gizmo was NOT impressed with someone manhandling her and as soon as her exam was over, she climbed up my jacket and into my hood. Pam took the above and below pictures of this...it was bloody adorable. Mr. Tanaka didn't seem to mind the vet that much...he just dealt with it.
So Pam and I head back to my place, drop off the kittens and decide that we want to go to the nicest restaurant in town. It's this fantabulous little Italian place that serves a pretty good white wine. I should know, I have at least a bottle every time I go there. They also have the best calzone's that I've ever tasted...and they give you bread before your meal with olive oil and vinegar. Heck yes it's great!! So, we're getting a little buzz on before dinner and talking amongst ourselves about how nice it would be to not have to work at all...Ever. Apparently we were overheard...because the assholes at the table beside us started talking about how important it was to have a pre-nup to prevent your wife from leaving you with nothing. Douchebags. I felt like telling them that they should give the poor woman, who was stupid enough to marry them in the first place, EVERYTHING just for having to put up with them.

After that, This happened:

That's Pam feeding me the cork from the wine, which she lovingly dipped in the olive oil prior to giving it to me to eat. Since dinner was so much fun, we thought "Hey, why doesn't everyone just stay at my house and we'll go out and have a jolly good time!" Pam tried to warn me that some of the guys were kinda "rowdy and really big" but I said I didn't care. Boy was I wrong.

I will continue with Part 2 of this post later on...for now I must get ready to go out for Japanese food with Nicole and Chris and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it.

I'm not really a big fan of stress.

Well, today's posting is not really very uplifting, so if you're not in the mood to read a bit of ranting, you'd might as well move along. Otherwise, be prepared to listen to a bit of complaining.

So, as some of you know, I've been quite sick, off and on since Thanksgiving. This stupid flu just won't seem to bugger off, and quite frankly, I'm sick and tired of it. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. Maybe it's mono...which I probably got from all those hot boys I've been kissing lately...uhh...ok, so I haven't been kissing anyone...so maybe I got it from something else. We can be sure that it's not a bun in the oven...because obviously, I'm a virgin. *cough cough*

Anyways, yesterday I felt like ass on a stick, so I decided I would work from home instead of go to our Wednesday group. I was puking, and I didn't think it would be good for the clients to be exposed to my repulsiveness. Anyways, I did some paperwork and looked up some new ideas for groups and I did actually do some work. I figured it was almost the same thing. Boy, was I wrong.

This morning, I went and had breakfast with my old guys (which was fantabulous, thanks) and when I left, I had a voice message from one of the Therapists. She said I had to call her immediately, but since my work phone is a giant piece of crap with no reception, I decided I'd just go up to the office to talk with her. So, I go up there, and of course she's the first person I see and she's angry that I didn't call her back. I explained the phone situation for the umpteenth time, but still, she was mad. We went into her office, and she starts lecturing me on the importance of being "responsible". I'm almost in tears...because I'm a baby. I try to explain my reasoning behind not calling in sick, but it's no use. I fucked up. Then she starts talking about how one of my clients (who is a royal pain in the ass at the best of times) has been told she needs to pay money for something that was apparently already paid for (before I even started working with her, of course) and now it's up to me to deal with her this afternoon. Joy.

I left her office feeling like a little kid who had upset their teacher and I honestly wanted to vomit. Instead of crying about it, I went and found my boss and explained the situation to him and he said it wasn't that big of a deal, but he'd hold me to the promise that it wouldn't happen again. Still, I felt like I was going to cry and be sick. Damn my Catholic upbringing and the intense guilt feelings it has left me with!!!

After all of my apologizing and nausea, the therapist who originally gave me shit called me back into her office. I thought to myself "OH BLOODY HELL...what have I done now?". As it turned out, she actually just wanted to tell me that one of my clients had come in for a session with her on Tuesday and said that he was extremely happy to be working with me. Then she said how good it was for him that I was always on time and very "responsible". I felt like asking how I could be responsible and not responsible all in the same morning, but I figured I'd better not start any crap.

So, I'm back in the office, checking the messages and there's one on there from one of my other clients asking me to call her as soon as humanly possible. I called her right then, and she went into a 30 minute rant about how her rent was going up and she was so upset that I had to hold back my tears and promise to help her in any way I could. Sadly, there really isn't much I can do for her as there is no housing in Grande Prairie, but I said I would meet with her for coffee tomorrow so that she can vent a little bit. After we hung up, I did start crying a little, and I went to talk with her therapist. She said that I had to get the client to find her own housing...won't that be a lovely thing to explain over coffee!!!?!?!

Anyways, I've come home to bitch to all of you (well, maybe 2 or 3 of you who read this) and play with the furballs for a bit to try and get myself back to a normal state before I go pick up the most annoying client in history. Good news is, after I drop her off, I get to play pool with a bunch of our most messed up guys...but they are good natured and fun to be around. I wish I could be good natured and fun to be around.

A thank-you letter.

To all of you out there, who either frequently or rarely send me e-mail messages: I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the one about rat shit in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel with every envelope that needs sealing. Also, now I have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason. I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl (Penny Brown) who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time. I no longer have any money at all but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates of Microsoft Corp. and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program. I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, and St. Theresa's novena has granted my every wish. I no longer eat at KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers. I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a water buffalo on a hot day. Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes. Because of your concern I no longer drink Coca-Cola because it can remove toilet stains. I no longer can buy gasoline without taking a man along to watch the car so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas. I no longer drink Pepsi or Dr. Pepper since the people who make these products are atheists who refuse to put "Under God" on their cans. I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer. And thanks for letting me know I can't boil a cup water in the microwave anymore because it will blow up in my face...disfiguring me for life. I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with the AIDS virus. I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me. I no longer receive packages from UPS or FedEx since they are actually Al Qaeda in disguise. I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan. I no longer have any sneakers -- but that will change once I receive my free replacement pair from Nike. I no longer buy expensive cookies from Neiman Marcus since I now have their recipe. Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because my toilet is the only one I can be sure doesn't have a big brown African spider lurking under the seat, causing me instant death when it bites my butt. Thank you too for all the endless advice Andy Rooney has given us. I can live a better life now because he's told us how to fix everything. And thanks to your great advice, I can't ever pick up $5.00 I spotted in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg. Oh, and let's not forget this one:I can no longer drive my car because I can't buy gas from certain gas companies! Thanks for your time, and let me just say in closing- If you don't send this e-mail to at least 144,000 people in the next 70 minutes, a large dove with diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM tomorrow afternoon and the fleas from 12 camels will infest your back, causing you to grow a hairy hump. I know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician...

So this morning I wake up to THIS...

Bloody Hell...I don't know how many inches this is, but it's a lot of snow. I'm pretty sure that sounded dirty without me meaning for it to. Since it was such a terrifying event, I felt I should fix the pictures to make it look a little scarier than it maybe was. The truly scary thing will be driving to the gym this morning.


I will admit, it does look kind of pretty at this time...although once the Rig Pigs start driving their muddy trucks around in it, and once all the stray dogs start urinating it in, it's going to be disgusting and I'll hate it really lots.

That being said, keeping in the tradition of me being the Crazy Cat Lady, I threw the kitties onto the deck so that I could take a picture of their paw prints for you. You're welcome : )

Aaah...kittens!!

Because I am a geek with very little social life at the moment, I thought I would share some more kitten pictures...Mr. Tanaka posed very nicely for me for awhile (in between perching on my shoulder sessions) and I thought you'd all like to see his giant mitten paws!! *even if you don't REALLY want to see them, at least pretend like it's exciting*. I probably need to get out more, but why would I want to when I have chubby kittens at home?!?!?!

I don't even care...the inbred paws are adorable!!! And the fact that they'll fall asleep on their back is pretty swell too!! I have turned into the Crazy Cat lady...

Freaking out...

Oh god...oh god...so I realized today that it's damned near the end of October. This would be alright if only my job wasn't a "Temporary-3 month" position. The end of October is the end of the 3 months. I haven't heard either way if I'm staying or going. This wouldn't be so bad if I didn't love the job so much. I mean, not only do I have a lot of free time with it, but I love my clients and my co-workers...and if I get a new job, who will go for coffee with me everyday? Another big problem is the fact that I JUST bought a new place...getting another job will be no big deal, but will I be able to find something that pays enough to pay for the mortgage? I feel physically ill because of this...my tummy wants my breakfast out of there.

I actually feel quite similar to the way I felt the morning after this picture was taken...like my head was full of cotton and my body was rejecting all solids, fluids, and Advil gel capsules. Ok, so I just think the picture is funny and I wanted to post it. Nicole and I get into swell amounts of trouble.

What the hell should I do?

My new home!!

Hellooooooooo Everybody! (you 3 know who you are)

So, Jeff's been all up in my face about my lack of blogging lately. I would feel kinda bad, if I wasn't so bloody busy with the new place. I have been in here for almost 2 weeks now, and it's just fantabulous!! On Friday the 13th, I added 2 new members to my family. Their names are Mr. Tanaka and Gizmo.

Mr.Tanaka is the orange one (Jeff, you may notice that he looks an awful lot like Jimi...the cat I let you chase around my yard back in the day). He has 5 toes on one foot and 6 on the other. When I get him to pose nicely I'll take a picture for you...looks like he has mittens! Gizmo is the Ewok looking thing lying on her back. I absolutely adore them...even though they are quite difficult to manage at times. I apparently am not capable of getting a pet that isn't inbred.

So, the house...so small, so outdated, but so wonderful!! I spent all last weekend painting the kitchen cupboards. The job was difficult, but well worth it. They now look modern and brighten up the entire place.

Here are a couple more pictures...one of my super-hot pink bathroom ( I adore the hawaiian print shower curtain and giant pink towels *thanks mom*). The other picture is of the stairs up to my loft. I'm going to paint the rest of the kitchen bright blue, change the flooring, and paint the rest of the place a light grey. Then, I'm going to paint the back wall of the loft some bright color, and eventually I'll change the carpet because I'm not exactly fond of it. Oh yeah, and all the brown doors you see will be painted the same color as the cupboards...that's my weekend job!

Anyways, I just wanted to let everyone know that I was still alive and also show off my photo posting to blog skills. *apparently I was forgetting to click the DONE button afterwards*.

I'll be sure to update more often now...I'm sure you can hardly contain your excitement!!

Ciao

Apparently I'm "Pretty Normal"..who woulda thought?

I got this on MySpace and I figured I'd annoy you guys with it....apparently I'm "pretty normal" but the sad thing is, I fear being normal.

If you get 26 and over, you're paranoid.If you get 10 or less you're fearless.If you get 11 to 25 you are pretty normal.Everyone fears something...you just have to find the right thing

I Fear...

[] the dark
[x]staying single forever
[] being a parent
[x] giving birth
[] being myself in front of others
[] open spaces
[] closed spaces
[x] heights
[] black cats
[] dogs
[x] birds
[x] fish
[] Ants
[] driving
[] flying
[] flowers or other plants
[] being touched
[] fire
[x] dark water
[] the ocean
[x] failure
[] success
[] thunder/lightning
[] frogs/toads
[] my boy/girlfriends/(ex)boy/girlfriends dad
[x] my boy/girlfriends/(ex)boy/girlfriends mom
[] mice/rats
[x] jumping from high places
[] snow
[] rain
[] wind
[] cotton balls
[xxx] clowns
[] large crowds
[] crossing bridges
[x] death
[] Heaven
[] being robbed
[] men that i dont know well
[] women that i dont know well
[] having great responsibility
[] doctors, including dentists
[] tornadoes
[] hurricanes
[] diseases
[] snakes
[] sharks
[x] shots
[xxx] spiders
[] Friday the 13th (it's comin up!!!!)
[] poverty
[xxx] ghosts
[] Halloween
[] school
[] trains or railroads
[] odd numbers
[] even numbers
[] being alone
[] being blind
[] being deaf
[x] growing up
[] monsters under my bed
[x] creepy noises in the night
[x] bee stings
[] not accomplishing my dreams/goals
[x] needles
[] blood
[x] someone you love or care about getting hurt
[] love
[x]Jeff's dad finding out about his mom and I

Let's talk about dating...

Since I got sent home from work today due to a terrible head cold, I figured I would update this blog-thingamajig. I realize that instead of writing about my own semi-interesting (ok, boring) life, I usually just comment on other people's exciting ones.

This afternoon, I figured it was time for a change. So I would like to share with everyone my recollection of the worst date I've ever been on. Although I have been on many dates, and the majority of them were somewhere between mediocre and awful, one stands out in my mind as worse than the rest. I feel that everyone would benefit from my telling of the story. Let's begin!!

It was a Tuesday evening I believe...I had been working at the devil store (Carlton Cards...ugh) in the Kamloops mall. Every day that I worked there seemed to run into the day before, and nothing very exciting ever happened. But this day, a pretty cute guy came in and we were talking and he asked me if I would like to go for dinner after work. I decided that dinner was probably a bit too much for a first date, and so we settled for a drink. He said he'd call me around 8 and we'd figure out where to go. I was kinda excited, which seems strange now, seeing as every time I have to go on a date I feel nothing but dread now.

So I finished work, went home and he called and we decided to go to Duffys. It seemed like a fairly safe place for a date. My mom suggested that I meet him there, just in case I decided half way through that I should bolt. Also, this prevented him from knowing where I lived (man, that woman has EXCELLENT foresight!!) and would make it difficult for him to just show up at random times (which had happened beofe, believe it or not...one time a guy whom I had went on ONE date with, was at my house when I got home from work...had just gone in and introduced himself as my "boyfriend" and creeped the hell out of my dad).

I meet the guy at Duffys, and the first thing I notice is that he isn't as tall as I thought he was at the store. I really can't complain though, because at 5'2", I'm not exactly a giant myself. We go inside, and I order a ceasar. I remember what I drank that night, because they have never appealed to me since. He starts off the conversation by telling me that he is 34 *COUGH COUGH* and has 2 kids. A GIANT red flag shot out of his head at that point. I was 22, freshly out of a hellish relationship with a guy who had a kid, and not at all interested in having to look after someone else's child while they ran around the country sleeping with every whore they could find. After that I was polite, but distant. So he pulled out the one card that REALLY pisses me off. The "I have this much money and I have this many things and I'm great because I'm rich" card. I downed my drink as quickly as possible and said that it was time for me to go. I grabbed my coat and rushed to the door.

Mini-me came truckin' along behind me...and as I was unlocking my door, he came up to me, grabbed the back of my head and LICKED my face. I'm talking, full-on tongue along my cheek action. It was like having your faithful furry companion show you love, only much much much much worse. I burst out laughing...I think mostly due to the awkwardness of the situation...and pushed him away from me. I figured the "uhh...I gotta go" was enough of a hint that I wasn't interested in him, but apparently it wasn't. He ended our lovely evening with the words "Let's go get a hotel room..." and I ended the evening by opening my car door, jumping in and locking the door while he stood there looking at me. Then I proceeded to start bawling and drove home (using a very out-of-the-way route to prevent any following) and swore off dating.

Looking back, it's funny now. At the time it wasn't. And what REALLY isn't funny about it, is how my mom will sometimes tell me that he's called their house looking for me. I think she's told him 2 or 3 times that I don't live there anymore...but good for him for keeping up the hope!!

Mental Illness Poster Girl

So today is Friday...Friday the 29th of September. Do you know what that means? It means that today was the day that I got to pose for pictures for the new Mental Illness pamphlets and posters. The first part was me talking to a dog, which was easy enough. I just kept calling it "puppy puppy" and I'm sure I look like I have mental issues in all of those photos. Then, I got to sit in a chair and pretend to be a client receiving therapy from one of the Therapists. It was a beautiful thing. I kept laughing because we were supposed to be so serious...and because it's awkward posing as something you are not. *ahem* The last part of the shoot was my favorite...I picked up a few of my guys and we went and shot some pool. One of them got paranoid about the cameras, and chose to sit the picture part out, but my other guy...oh man! He had his new shirt on, and his giant hat, and his giant glasses and he was just right into it. The awesomest thing about all of this was the last picture...it's me pretending to shoot a ball and him leaning over my shoulder. The photographer called it "an intimate moment". Hahahaha oh man. I called to tell my boss about it and he was laughing hysterically. I can't wait to see them.

On a brighter note, I called in sick to the liquor store tonight. I actually feel quite shitty, and I think my Friday evening would be better spent sleeping in bed than dealing with people who are drinking too much.

WHAT do I think I'm DOING?

I have signed myself up for a boxing class. It starts tonight at 7:30. I called ahead, and the guy said that he will yell at me. I hate being yelled at. But I hate being out of shape even more.

I think I'm a sucker for punishment. I'm going early to meet him...he said I could just watch tonight if I wanted, but it would be better if I actually participated. I now feel like if I just sat and watched I would be a failure.


I will let you know how it went when I get home...If I get here alive that is.

It’s 11 pm on a Sunday night…a dark night, but not a stormy one. This is not a scary story. Well, perhaps it is, but not in the traditional way of scary stories. It’s the story of one girls quest to better herself, by way of purchasing her first home.

As you probably know (or should know anyways), I’ve been searching the market for an affordable home to call my own. It’s not that I don’t like living with other people, it’s just that I would really like to have a space that’s all mine, a space where I can cook, clean, lounge, dance and sing in the nude. Or maybe just a place where I can do all of those things any time of the day or night that I wish. I don’t HAVE to be naked. It’s just a bonus that I COULD be naked if I chose to do so.

I was looking through the newspaper classified ads a few weeks ago, and I came across an interesting little ad. It said something along the lines of “Condo for Sale. $89,000. Call to view.” I thought to myself, “I wonder if I could get a mortgage for $89,000. I wonder if this place is a complete dive.” So, I did what any person would do. I went down to the mortgage centre and applied. I honestly didn’t think I’d be approved, but when she told me I could be, my little heart was elated. Right away I called the number of the condo and set up a time to view it. I went to the viewing, and I was ecstatic! It was sooooooooooooo cute! A tiny little Janelle-sized loft!! I wanted to move in right away…but apparently people would prefer that your financing to go through first. Our society is so sad…built on money.

Then the first problem reared its ugly head; the mortgage company would not give me financing unless I had a letter from my employer stating that I am a PERMANENT full-time employee. Since I work in the medical industry, this is a huge problem. They enjoy employing people as temporary full-time…this allows them to get away with not paying for benefits. It also encourages a huge turnover rate which causes all sorts of problems (long emergency room wait times, inadequate care, miserable staff, gastro-intestinal disease, etc.) So, I called up my parents and asked if they would mind co-signing for me. I thought it was an exceptionally great idea, because if they were on the mortgage and I felt like not working for awhile, I could just quit my job and they could pay it for me. (Hahaha just kidding…maybe). Being the wonderful people that they are, they were more than happy to help me out with this, and so the co-signing was done. I figured this would be the end of my problems. I was wrong. I had counted my chickens before they had hatched.

I was waiting and waiting and waiting (not at all patiently) to hear back from the mortgage lady (We’ll call her Deb, because that’s her name) so that she could tell me that it’s all wonderful and I can have the house and extra cash to do the flooring so I could live in a beautiful home decorated to my liking. Well, I waited a week and a half only to have my world crash down last Friday. The mortgage people wouldn’t approve it unless I had 5% to put down. Now, while $4350 may not seem like much, it just wasn’t possible for me to have that money pulled out of my ass immediately. I called my dad crying (ok, I was in hysterics), told him that I couldn’t have the house, and prepared to grieve for the next year or so. But, being the superb people my parents are, they decided to help out their little girl, again. They talked to Deb and put 5% down (which I’m paying back in monthly installments, thankyouverymuch) and enabled me to once again get my hopes back up where they belong.

I called Deb and she seemed happy for me. She’s a very nice lady, but I’m pretty sure she’s sick and tired of me…I’ve been on her case about this from the first minute that I applied. She also had to listen to me cry on Friday afternoon…I’m sure that wasn’t exactly the thing she wanted to be hearing right before her weekend. In all fairness to me though, I hadn’t slept for a week due to my nervous state. She told me she’d call me as soon as she heard anything. That was Friday…this is Sunday. I told the lady who’s selling the place that I have to have it…I will sell my soul for all 510 square feet of that condo!!! I went today with my auntie Sharon to look at it again and get the inspection report. My happiness is riding on whatever happens tomorrow. Tomorrow is the deadline. If the financing doesn’t get approved by tomorrow, the people can sell the place to someone else…someone with CASH. Someone who’s not a single gal trying to buy a place in the worst housing market in Canada (almost anyways.) I NEED this place. I need it so much that I can taste it. Well, I can’t really taste it…I don’t eat condo. But you know what I mean.

So yeah, if you’ve noticed that I’ve been a bit of a stress case lately, now you know why. I did manage to get some sleep this weekend, which was really swell. I enjoy sleeping. A lot. Keep your fingers crossed for me…and please, if you see my parents give them a giant hug. Tell them that their little girl is going to make them proud, and will *eventually* be self-sufficient and independent and hopefully make grandparents out of them one day. I couldn’t possible make them grandparents unless I lived in a loft condo first. It’s just not the way it goes.

Have a fantabulous day!
Janelle

It's really best for everyone if I don't drink.

So, last night Nicole and I decided to get our drink on.

I worked until 10:30, then we went to the Lion's Den to see what was happenin' there. It was really really busy. There were no parking spots and I almost got backed into by a taxi driver. I was angry right from the start. We found somewhere to leave my car and then we headed inside. Because of the extreme gut trauma that rum causes me, I decided to make it a gin night. I started of with a triple, and after 2 of those I was feeling much better about the situation at hand. Once Nicole and I had our buzz going on, we could relax a little...and reflect on the extreme ugliness of Grande Prairie.

While sipping our 3rd drinks, we managed to get our grubby little hands on a wordgame computer. Sounds dorky, I know. But this is just how we roll. When you play the word game, guys always come up and try to "help" us out, but last night, things took a turn for the worse. Some hideous chicks decided they wanted to hang out with us. The one wouldn't quit touching me and trying to talk to me, so I did what any sane person would do: I pretended to be deaf. Everytime she'd lean in to talk to me, I'd turn to Nicole and start using drunken sign language. Luckily, she caught on and did it back. Then the chick would try to talk into my ear. I'm not sure if she knows much about deaf people, but just 'cause you get right up in someones ear doesn't make them stop being deaf. The highlight of this was when I'd be singing along to the music and pretend I could "feel it" through the counter of the bar. Finally, when I'd had enough of this, Nicole and I found a table to sit at where we could laugh about the sitation and carry on a conversation with words. The stupid girls came and sat with us. I found a boy to tell them that we were deaf and that we were getting annoyed with their bantering.

Last call was announced...Nicole said we had to get another drink. I'm pretty sure that's the one that made me sick.

Oh yeah, we were standing by this wall and there was this guy and we were both discussing our recognition of his face. After a few moments of staring at him and talking about him, Nicole realized where we knew him from: "One of us hooked up with him...I think it was you." After more careful consideration, I realized she was right. We laughed for awhile, and I just thought to myself "thank god he's a cutie." He probably knew all along and thought I was a complete bitch for staring at him and not saying hello. Oh well, I think we'll all live.

After the bar we went to the donair place and got some pizza. I didn't order pizza, it just came up and I bought it. We had a cell phone that Nicole had found on the ground at the bar, and we made phone calls with it. Then the girl who owned the phone called us and demanded that we give it back to her. I chose a chinese accent for these calls. She made fun of my chinese accent...I told her the phone was mine...I had given some guy head in a car at the bar and he had given me the phone. Because she was so rude about it, we disposed of the phone...but not after calling people in her phone book and leaving "I just wanted you to know that I'm having your baby" messages. Le sigh. The things we do because of alcohol.

So today I'm sick like a dog and probably going to waste the day away by sleeping. Rest assured there won't be any more drunken nights for me for awhile.

Welcome to the psych ward

Hello blog-readers,

Due to overwhelming requests (ok, so Jeff said I should), I have decided to start my own blog. I'd like to tell you that this is my first attempt at the world of blogging, but that would be a lie. I actually have 4 now, including this one. I'll be the first to admit that I am a nerd. Now that I've come right out and said it, you won't need to.

I actually have nothing to say right now. I haven't slept for over a week, and I'm coming down with a cold/flu thing that I received from some of my clients (sharing is caring.) Basically, I'm just babbling with my hands right now because I am trying to avoid feelings.

I'll write something sometime when I have something to say.