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Sweet Meliss*
Suffix Abuse*
Kristina Contes*
Stilley Stuff*
Cookies For Breakfast*
Nie Nie Dialogues*
Anchored Nomad*


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the runs
jorma taccone
f my life
the found magazine
do you have the time?


Can't you hear me?
Cause I'm screamin'.

Did not go outside.

Don't wake me, please.
Don't wake me.
I was dreamin'.

Well I might just stay inside again
Well I don't go out much these days.

Sometimes I stay inside all day.
Leave me
leave me
leave me
leave me
Won't you leave me alone.
Don't you leave me alone.

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ghetto google
look at a book
brandon flowers
sex & the city quotations
best trailer, worst movie.
idiot girls club
Get high on JESUS

When they say "Don’t I know you?"
Say no.
When they invite you to the party
Remember what parties are like
Before answering.
Someone telling you in a loud voice
They once wrote a poem.
Then reply.
If they say we should get together.
Say why?
It’s not that you don’t love them any more.
You’re trying to remember something
Too important to forget.
The church bell at twilight.
Tell them you have a new project.
It will never be finished.
When someone recognizes you in a grocery store,
Nod briefly
and become a cabbage.
When someone you haven’t seen
In ten years
Appears at the door,
Don’t start singing him all your new songs.
You will never catch up.

Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time.

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This is a new garden over old flowers.
Wish that one day they'd figure out
how to shrink stars
and i could keep one in my bedroom.
And wish that me and him could grow old together.
And wish
that in my next life I come back as a tiger.
These are fun wishes.
In about seven minutes you can start.
'Til then, you'll just listen to the radio
from seat's edge.
As if then it's the look on your face.
As if, as if then you'll matter,
And then I can't wait.
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and never the two shall meet
said the tiger to its greatest fan.
the amount of love
you wish to give
is more than i can stand.

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*blogger, for my life hobby*
*haloscan, so no one can comment*
*Schrags, my html GOD*


1.) Stayed at work until 7:30pm last night. With the morons.
2.) Got the issue finished, noticed UPS man had already come for the day to pick up stupid packages.
3.) I stay until 7:30 Kansas time. California team member stays until 5:00 California time.
4.) Very angry at the United Postal Service.
5.) Get the name of a dropbox that still accepts packages until 8:00pm.
6.) Thank the Lord.
7.) Drive like an action figure to some industrial park off of pflumm and sante fe.
8.) Notice that a lot of worker-men at the UPS headquarters drive fast motorcycles.
9.) Drop that box off and realize that this will be one sweet issue when I get it in the mail.
10.) Drive home, pissed.
11.) Go to Hy-Vee where I sadly purchase an 85 cent box of macaroni & cheese with my credit card.
12.) Check-out man makes obvious joke.
13.) I reach over counter and punch him in the face.
14.) wait...no.
15.) Drive home, eat half of that box, watch real world.
16.) Talk to aunts about engagement, fall asleep so hard.
17.) Wake up at 7:10am, curse the day, leave at 7:30am for work.

+ posted by Special J at 8:26 AM


Um. Can you say, best weekend of my entire life?

On Friday, these were delivered to my office:

It isn't really a dozen red long-stemmed roses, it was more like a bush.
I mean, the most beautiful bouquet of flowers I have ever received..

Then I booked it to Omaha, made it to my honey, we at our favorite restaurant, Charlestons, lounged around,
and slept like rocks.

On Saturday morning, at the crack of noon, I awoke, and we got our shop on. We love that apartment. I also did my fair share of personal shopping; picking up things like, a coffee table book, a retro ornament clip, and a magnet.

Then came the night of all nights, Saturday night. Brian made the most superior steak dinner, complete with potatoes and salad. We ate at our new dining room table. It was all set up (he even put out salad forks).
So we dined and then moved over to the couch where we watched the Olympics for 3 hours.

Then, Brian picked up the acoustic and said he wanted to play along to the CD. Well, when I started listening, it was this song that he had wrote for me awhile back. It's absolutely pretty. And he sounded so good. And after he was done, he asked if we could go out on his patio that overlooks a good part of Omaha, all lit up for us. He grabbed my hands, said tonight was the night, and said all of these sweet and wonderful and important-to-me things. Then we went inside. (meanwhile, he had looped "my song" on a CD and it was ever-playing in the background.) And he told me to stand over by the fireplace, where he took out the ring, got down on that knee and asked me to be his wife.

And let's just say I went into hysterics when he popped this baby out:

And here's me in hysterics while talking to family on the phone:

And here's what the ring would look like if you asked me to hold out my hand and show it to you. Haha.

So, I'm the most happiest girl on the planet. I'm sorry I'm gushing.
I'll probably be doing this for the rest of my life. I'm just so happy!

+ posted by Special J at 9:58 PM


a.) what am I wearing? and b.) what am I wearing?
I immediately regret this decision. I kind of look like an Easter egg, mixed with a bad office-professional pant-suit lady. And forever today will I work in my cubicle and make the long drive to Omaha with butt floss, knifing my body in half. Ok, that was sick. Sick, but accurate. Today, I will print things out in bulk so people won't see me at the printer. I will not go to the bathroom and I will stay hunkered down in my cube. Hunkered. Hunkered.

Great, this group of girls just looked at me. They can't do that. Because of the girls in the group wore a poncho last week. Like one of those decorative ponchos. Like with fringe, no arm holes, and a tanktop underneath. It made her look like one of those flying dinosaurs. So don't look at me, missy.

So, I'm pumped for the Omaha weekend. I haven't been up there since the lightbulb was invented, so it should be like the best weekend ever. For lunch, I'm going out with "Suse" or "Mom". To First Watch. And I'll shower her with gifts because it is her birthday this weekend. I really hooked mom up. It's gonna be a good day for her. And I also treated myself to a new and tall glass vase from pottery barn, which I am going to stuff with these miniature green apples that I scored from this home decorating store for 55 measly cents each. I rule so much.

My car was thirsty this morning. Go white shoes, go white shoes, go.

+ posted by Special J at 9:08 AM


Holy mother of mercy.
Yesterday, after the core (ab) yoga 1/2 hour workout, I accidentally stayed in studio 1 instead of moving to studio 2 for my hatha yoga. I got the f'ing rooms mixed up. So class starts, and sweet-quiet Director Morris Wisdom begins YOGA PUMP. Immediately I realize this is a big mistake. But 10 packs-a-day gramma and rich gramma convince me I can do it. And plus, I'm in the freaking back of the room, mats all around, so I either risk total embarrassment or try to dodge 24 exercise balls and 2,657,951,645 dumbells scattered throughout what will soon become my own yoga hell.

So there I am, in my new black yoga pants, might I add. Well, wrong day to wear them, Jenn. We all stand up, take a deep breath in, and then everybody around me like jump-drops to the position of a push-up. And I'm not talking before you do a push up. I'm talking arms bent, butt's down, and your chest is like hovering an inch off the ground. Jesus Christ. Then, QUICK! Push up into some Cobra-Matrix position and then back up like we're Jet Li into hands and feet on the floor. Then, like we're in some sort of a rush here, we do 10 bicep curls with weights. Then we do that whole push-up death move again. Then it's 10 triceps, then the death move, then we're on these big bouncy balls, then death, more weights, dying, lunges, dead. And that was like round 1 of 10.

I did this for one hour. I can't lift up my legs or arms. I think I have internal bleeding.
I ache in illegal places. OH MY GOD.

Then, last night when I'm taking a shower, a drip of shampoo has to come down my forehead and into my eye. So now I'm all-having a bloody eye and I can't open it and it's sore and pirate-like.
Not a smooth move on my part. But on the plus side, i'm wearing new socks today.

+ posted by Special J at 10:06 AM


So, yesterday was the Chiefs game. I went. We played the stinky Rams. Me and Dad went. And we only talked about stock options/my financial future once. We got to our seats and man, was it great to see the field. I also saw "Belly Boy" and the new "First Down Elvis". Not to mention a drug lady wearing a cheap children's Indian headdress, some too-young-for-their-britches moms, a drunk girl that looked like a white-trash version of the Dixie Chicks singer, greasy hair guy, and oh did I mention I sat next to Eric Hick's wife and two small children.

Meet Eric Hicks:

Yeah, his wifey only had two seats. But she had two tiny children. So one tiny boy sat on her lap/kicked me/pulled my hair/flicked snowcone on me while the little girl/mini cheerleader sat in the other seat with her hair braided and eating peanuts. There was also a couple that she apparently knew in front of her..the dude that sat in front of me. They kept calling him "Rhino". And for obvious reason. Maybe because he was the size of 5 rhinos and a T-rex. Geez. So when he stood up, I was denied of all light on the planet. But dudes, seriously, they were all a barrel of fun and I felt famous for sitting next to them.

Today I have to get a load done. And I mean a load. No rest for the wicked.

+ posted by Special J at 8:41 AM


Howdy doody.
This weekend was fast. Brian came in late on Friday. Which is fine, because I got to watch the women's tramp competition (see below) and also some extreme Badmitton as displayed two Koreans. God bless 'em.

After that, I made Brian a peanut butter sandwich and we watched more Olympics. Yeah, Olympics!
Brian doesn't understand why I like the Olympics so much, and I ask him, are you mad?

On Saturday, we woke up, Chef Jennifer made Brian pancakes, we watched more Olympics and then we prepared ourselves for Weddingfest. It was super. The chicken fingers, onion rings, cheese sticks, meeting Nick Lache at the reception, a thong riding up my rear for 12 hours, Brian ASKING ME to dance, and the Bob Marley DJ and his slow jams that we had never heard before.

This morning, me and Brian gave each other a couple of crackers, and went off to the Cheesecake Factory for some lunch. Ok, if you are thinking you are going to be adventurous while dining there, DO NOT. It isn't worth it. Just get your regular standby and be happy. Because their Baja Tacos SUCK.
Throw-up in a tortilla. Sour cream does not even help. Meow.

God, now I have to find enough commercial break to take a quick shower before I miss too much of the Games. Tricky, but I'm willing to try.

Volleyball games are held at "Peace & Friendship Stadium" ?

+ posted by Special J at 9:01 PM


No way. I just finished watching the Womens Olympic TRAMPOLINE Competition. I mean, how in luck am I.

So, it looked something like this:

They get ten big jumps and then they are scored. After the tenth bounce, they must come to a complete stop and then give this fancy salute. The announcer informed me that this shows "respect and control" from these girls that decided to enter the trampoline competition of the Olympic games instead of something maybe like track & field or say, judo?

One girl from Canada looked butch, I don't think Japan was wearing a bra, and the German winner looked like she was ready to follow the gold up with a church quilting competition:

Very homely.

+ posted by Special J at 7:42 PM


I was just back in our PrePress Department. Lovely thing it is. And this one lady thats all cracked out, is an organic farmer and mutters "get out of graphics.. get out of graphics.." just said this:

Jenn: Can you approve this ad so I can place it?
Crackjob: Yes, just hold on. (to herself) Do you want to approve.
(aloud) Well where's the hell yes button when you need it!?

I just ate my weight in rice dishes. Sick. And then I didn't stop there. There was ice cream.
An ice cream bar that had dropped from heaven and hit me in the mouth.

Um, but a weird thing happened in the bathroom. Someone must have glittery buttcheeks,
because my stall #4 had it all over the seat. Sick. Sick and wrong. And also, someone in stall #1 was crying.
Maybe the two are linked? A glitter-butt sobbing phantom?

On the plus side, i'm wearing a hot pink shirt.

+ posted by Special J at 12:58 PM


I love this rain.
Here is what I am doing: sitting in my pj pants, at the desk, with a tall order of Starbucks and a candle burning. And some music in the background. And it's raining and I just love this all.

Brian, the part in the song I thought you had noticed was this:

"wanna hold my wife when I get home
wanna tell the kids they'll never know
how much i love to see them smile
wanna make a change right here right now"

So I just got back from Target. Why? Because at around 7:15pm, little sister Steph comes into my room and begs me to take her to the store for REDBULL. She goes on to say that she needs this bull because she has her first day of eighth grade Volleyball and it's at 6:00am and she wants to be all up and awake for it. And apparently, she's heard that redbull will do this for her. It was cute, it really was. So, like the champ-o I am, I deliver. I also purchased new socks, some black yoga-master pants, and some manly man hanes shirts that I will shrink and work out in or give to my Dad cause I'm an idiot and they won't fit and I've just wasted 7 doll hairs.

God, all I've been doing every single day this week is going to yoga, coming home late, making a turkey sandwich with jalapeno chips and milk, laying in bed and watching the blessid 28th Olympiad. I am so obsessed. Particularly with Michael Phelps and the although balding, men's gymnastic team in the white auto-boner gym-tight pants. Yummy.

Well, I might go lay in bed and watch the Games. The Russian calls herself a Diva, the Chinese girl looks like a dude and those pesky pesky Romanians. I tell you what, if I put on one of those leotards, it wouldn't cover my butt. It would go right up into a thong-tard. Perfect 10.

+ posted by Special J at 8:29 PM


You can't eat yogurt fast. You just can't. And then it gets warm. And then it gets sick.
Good Morning.

I didn't blog yesterday but I did eat an unnecessary amount of Taco Bell. Dave was Dave. The concert was good to me. I did a little bit of yoga yesterday, followed it up with a trip to the grocery store for healthy lunch, a toasters strudel, shower, and night in bed with two candles and Michael Phelps.
Wait, yeah. I watched him on TV.

Today I think I am going to make a trip to Lawrence to help Laura find her stinking classes. And I think I might also treat myself to the Yellowcard and Yeah Yeah Yeahs CD. And Kim, if you're listening, pull yourself away from your throne as Queen of Blog World and freaking name a day where I can come to Chicago to see you.

I have a bump on my head that is questionable. Maybe I'm infected with lame-ness.

+ posted by Special J at 8:42 AM


Bottom Line: Laura's in the dorms as of yesterday. The big Mac, as I will refer to it longingly.
I miss her. Bad.
Mom cried like a baby.

Yep, yesterday we moved her in. There was like 18 people in this tiny little room. The RA who was like 4 feet tall and a measley sophomore kept trying to tell our whole family that our things in the hall way were creating a fire hazard. Maybe she was Helen Keller and didn't see that it was move in day and that all the other 45,000 students crap was taking up space right next to ours. And then me and Kris tried to take Laura's old bed (she now has a Dad-made loft) down the elevator and to our car.
The RA beotch wouldn't have it. We got busted. And actually I wanted to throw the bed at her face.

The rest of the weekend was blurry.
Me and the Brian rented Fetch and ate some excellent Chinamen food.

Tonight I'm going to the big DMB concert.
Don't really know why, but it will be fun to sit and listen and deprive myself of even more sleep.

+ posted by Special J at 12:49 PM


There is a Olympic Grecian baby slam-dancing in my stomach.

Today, here at the office, it is Greek/Olympic day, in order to celebrate something I'm personally excited about, the opening ceremonies!! Employees were encouraged to dress in full toga and we were treated to gyros and baklava down the cafeteria. Let me add that they were the tastiest thing I've almost ever feasted upon. We even had greek salad, people!

But I am making no guarantees later. It might not be a pretty sight.
I could be making an abstract re-creation of the Olympic Rings in Primedia's own stall #4.

Last night I watched two hours of Extreme Make-over, visited Brian in the supreme glory that is the Convention Center Sheridan, and ate an ice cream cake slice featuring a hair.

Tonight me and Brian and pal Nick Cage are going up to frequent the Lawrence area. Then I am helping sister Laura move into the dorms on Sunday. And maybe I'll work, because if I don't, a certain lady with the title of "National Superior Sales Director Master" might ruin me. I'm not naming any names here, but let's just say I need to stop picking my nose in my cube. I mean, I'm not the only one working here.

+ posted by Special J at 1:58 PM


Oh, I've got the toilet touch. It happened again.

I manufactured a healthy brown cylinder last night, went for the flush, and literally bowl filled to the top in record time, making a stew so lethal and so full, that yes, the brown river began to flow all over the bathroom. I began the usual screaming, mom came running up, towels were dropped, Laura started laughing so hard, mom yelled at her, and the damage was d-o-n-e.
Maybe tomorrow I'll go for a three-peat.

On the upside, I discovered the Southwest Grilled Chicken Salad from Boston Market. I highly recommend it. It's like I want to permanently be eating it. I enjoyed it after a solid hour of yoga, followed by a nice coffee date with Jenni B./P. I like her because she used to wear a unitard and we used to grill deli meat together right on the kitchen burner at ungodly hours of the night.

Last night at yoga, a new person was there. More specifically, she looked like one of those twins submerged in that shallow pool, responsible for pre-determining those murders in Minority Report. She had too red hair, no eyebrows and a robotic stare. And apparently she thought her name was Yoga. She was like doing these poses and pointing her fingers and ridiculously flexing her feet like she was president of the USA yoga Olympic team. She had a big butt though. Excuse me. I mean. Her sit bones were large. I scorned at her from across the room, from my warrior 2 and half-cobra poses. Boo..

Well, I look like I just could blend in with a landfill, and I just found out we have an all-Production meeting. Swell. On the upside, there is usually chocolate milk. And I'm ready to do my body good.

+ posted by Special J at 8:50 AM


*++* Make sure you check out the Get high on JESUS link. Over there on the left. *++*

God, that's it, right there..

It's so nice outside I just want to jump for joy.
Although, I did have a nasty, free sandwich from Einstein.
A deadly combination of two spreadable cheeses, makes Jack a dull boy.

+ posted by Special J at 3:04 PM


I woke up at the crack of 8:04 this morning. I need to be at work at 8:00, people.

I did that thing where I'm real confused. Like..does 8:00 mean I'm really screwed or does 8:00 mean 6:30, and I'm really just getting up when I should be. So then, I refer to the VCR clock (old standby) and see that, no, I am screwed. Then my heart starts racing, I put on makeup real fast, manage to jab the mascara brush directly into my eye, put the hair in a pony tail, pick out my standard plain colored T, and race out of the door, slightly confused, scared, and pissed.

This happens when you go to work the day before at 6:45 am, and work until 6:00 pm, no lunch break.


Those people are nuts and I am convinced I will have a pleasant day. Yesterday, I actually thought it would be good. You know why? Cause I woke up reached over for a tissue, blew my nose, balled the tissue up and sank the sweetest shot into the trashcan about 20 feet away.
I mean it was like sign me up for the NBA.

So maybe today I'm going to treat myself to a little Bagel & Bagel. Steph, you coming with me?
If you say no, pick you up and take you with anyway.

Yesterday I received two Pottery Barn Euro shams in the mail. My dream bedding is now complete. Thank you, thank you.

Ok, I'm gonna go find the good in today and swallow it.

+ posted by Special J at 9:03 AM


Today started off with too much baby's breath.

Ok, so work has been crap, but this wonderful lady, Roxana, has helped me out with my new magazine and given me all of her time. So, being nice Jenn, I decide, that before work, i will venture to the grocery-store florist and grab her a little gerber daisy in a small vase. I'm just thinkin' a little tiny thanks that she can stick in between her computer tower and her pencil cup. Not a big deal.

But oh yes, floral designer, Glenda, decides to make it a big deal. She informs me that I will be paying extra for a vase. Which was fine, Glenda. So she turns around, obviously a little bitter about making a 7:20 am floral arrangement, goes into the refridgerated cellar and begins pulling armfuls of greenery and tall green plants. AND BABY'S BREATH. Before she began this, I told her I really just wanted to keep it small. Like so I wouldn't need a permit to take it outside of the store. I don't think Glenda cared. She said I was paying for it, so she would make it "worth it". Apparently, "worth it" meant a forrest of greenery, the state's supply of baby's breath, my one stinking flower (which you couldn't see anymore in the arrangement) and a handmade pink ugly bow, straight from the hands of Glenda herself.

So, I gave it to Roxana. And I felt dumb. No. Actually, I felt like we were celebrating our 75th wedding anniversary together or preparing to make a parade float using only the splendor which was that floral arrangement.

Yes, and then the day pretty much went to hell in a handbasket. Um, let's just say I cried in front of my boss. Like SOBBED. The crying led to large amounts of shopping, which led to taste-testing every Jalepeno chip in the bag, which led to a dad talk, which led to eating a few M&M's out of a tiny cup. But I was a yoga machine today. Yes, this skinny 35 year old sensai master thanked me for respecting my body today. And afterwards, I respected my body right into a new pair of shorts from Galyns.

For those of you who live on another planet.. Brian asked Dad this weekend. Which led to a lunchtime talk, hugs, my mom crying and hugging, me trying to pretend i was in my room for 45 minutes instead of spying, a family dinner, and my dad toasting our lemon waters to Bri and me. I'm so excited. I hope it happens soon so I can get out of here and begin my job as premiere decorator, wifey, and lover of all things Brian.

Tomorrow I'm hittin' the Pri at 6:45 am.
Maybe there'll be an egg sandwhich from the silver spoon in there.
Right now, I'm gonna go love my bed.

+ posted by Special J at 8:50 PM


I'm Rick James bitch.

+ posted by Special J at 1:36 PM


Jesus tits, I have to blog.

I'm eating cake, on behalf of another employee leaving, and the confetti is crunchy.
All of my clients have turned stupid today and I want to punch my own lights out.

Possible things to do this weekend with Bri:
-tour of Boulevard Brewery
-the white castle movie
-lawrence and montie's new apt.
-father, son-in law talk
-see Kris's apt. in all its glory.
-purchase hot eye poker.

+ posted by Special J at 3:09 PM


Ah hahaha... I just called an advertiser, from Macy's in New York.

Me: Ah, hi, my name is Jennifer and I am the Advertising Production Coordinator for Promo Magazine.
Dumb foreign man who answered the phone: Ahh.. what is the name of your magazine?
Me: Promo Magazine.
Dumb: PORNO?
Me: No. Promo Magazine. P-R-O-M-O.
Me: No. PROMO.

(and then he transferred me to security)

+ posted by Special J at 4:14 PM

So, Yoga.

Yesterday I went to a Yoga class. At the local Yoga center. Me and Kelly P. packed up our yoga mats and drove to the 5:30 class that would last for an hour and a half. Ok, actually, she had her own yoga mat, and I didn't even know they existed. Immediately, I was concerned that I did not have on the proper "yoga outfit". I chose some stretch pants I sometimes sleep in and paired it up with a nice T-shirt of Brian's. Ok, I didn't look all yoga-cute, but I was ready to go. A little nervous, but okay. Ok, I also had socks and gym shoes on, which Kelly quickly informed me that we do this barefooted. So, ok, I took the socks off, my feet stunk, and I probably totally wrecked my chi.

So we endured into this empty hallway room, and was greeted by Amanda, who looked like Alanis Morrsette with long, long hair. Maybe too long for a yoga instructor? We told her we were new to the yoga world, and she quickly stepped behind this iron human sculpture (of a man like bending his legs to China) that apparently doubled as a front desk. We filled out some paper work, Kel had the confidence like she'd has 4,000 classes under her belt, and I was just sweating. So we put our shoes under these benches, grab a complimentary yoga mat and towel out of these wicker containers and we enter "Studio 2".
Did I mention that the owner of this place is named Morris Wisdom?

Um, once you enter the studio, we got the hint that there is absolutely no talking. Not even a peep. A few women were already in there. Me and Kel spread out our mats in the most furthest possible back corner area. We just sat indian style, while these women stretched like it was their job. The room had very muted colors and some decent track lighting.

Then, rich grandma #1 and #2 entered and totally broke all silence codes. Grandma #1 was the best. She was hip, you could tell. She had on this black yoga suit. Except, oh, the top was like a midriff shirt. Meaning, I could see all of her Grandma stomach. Alanis walked in, and we started with a 30 minute session of ab hell. Grandma #1 would do these breaths during the sit-ups that made you think she was trying to suck up all of the air in the room, and doing it while into a microphone. Then she would let it all out so loud and you would see her in this little sit-up ball, trying to squeeze the shit out of next week. I couldn't even look at her, cause she looked so uncomfortable and it made me laugh to myself. And there is no laughing in yoga. And she also had the hugest Louis Vutton clear bag. Like the ones you see in Rap Videos. Grandma #2 just looked like she needed a cigarette through the whole class.

So then we really got into the class. Alanis made it look so easy. Like a cinch. And they I'd go to do my "warrior position" and it seem more like I was doing a "backwards grinder". Let's just say I am not bendy. At all. While we were in midst yoga, I realized we were listening softly to the ENTIRE old Sheryl Crow CD. And my ears were bleeding. Curls Mcgee would come around periodically and touch my butt or hamstring and adjust me while meanwhile, my left leg would go numb. Then she'd ask me it feels. Like what am I supposed to say? "Feels Great! In fact, can we try this double inverted crane with you laying on my back?"

But then we relaxed at the end, laid down on our mats and listened to this soothing and rushing music that sort of made me want to go to the bathroom. But by God, it calmed me. I left there feeling like I was on good drugs. I was happy, even though I didn't know the special word we said in unison as we bowed to our yoga Alanis master.

I think I'm going back tonight. I like to think of myself not as a yoga-taker, but a blog reporter, going on an assignment.

+ posted by Special J at 1:15 PM


Yesterday I did way too much working out. The body's reapin' from what I sewed.

So, this morning I am sore and tired and bored and restless. So, I turned on my newest playlist that I made on my iPod, entitled, "PUMP IT UP HOMO." I'm literally dancing a little in my chair. Do I look buff? Yes.

I really have the slight urge to babysit? And to pick up a hobby?

Here's something I think is great: Ass

Today, outside, it's like 4,500 degrees
Goddd, I'm Napoleon Dynamite, jeeez.
I packed a healthy lunch
on which i will munch,
proceeded by a huge crunch
in toliet four,
i will pour
what's in store.
I'm excited to eat cheese in about an hour,
it'll give me the power
Now go sit in your tower.
I wanna be Britney Spears.

+ posted by Special J at 11:09 AM


"He would stay forever, just to say he saw you leave..
..and maybe things wouldn't be this way.."

My sweet lands, it's like someone sent me a one-way ticket to heaven.

First off, I drove to work while listening to the old GlassJAw CD. It was like the best thing ever. It totally re-affirmed my love for that band. I need to listen to more music like that. Man, it makes me happy. Brian taught me how to do a pretty mean air drum set, however, don't sign me up as president of the drum club, okay.

Second off, I am getting so organized at work. This is always good. But better, I don't have to do ANYTHING until Wednesday or even Thursday. This is truly a gift. The calm before the storm, if you will. Well, rock on, because I'm gonna be balancing my checkbook and writing at work, taking an actual lunch break, cleaning out my inbox, and being happy all the while. Give me some topics to blog about,
I dare you.

I couldn't drink my lunch, so I decided to use my 1 year anniversary gift coupon to the silver spoon. I got a low-fat BLT. That was not a good choice. The turkey bacon used, required a saw to chew through. And the bread was like eating carpet. Wait, that's sick. Ah well. I'm going running today after work. And every day this week, beotches. I need to get rid of some of this Jelly. I don't think you're ready for this jelly. I don't think you're ready. Ok, Destiny's Child called, they want to be rescued from Jenn's body. And I'm going to the grocery store tonight. To get excited about healthy lunches again. Yea for health!

FYI, I'm sort of hooked on that new Amish reality show. And I'm also hooked on my new bamboo office plant. Which, by the way, is growing right before my eyes. Um, does some magazine or newspaper want to hire me to have my own column? Yes please.

Ooh, I also was a risktaker today. I violated every HR code and wore my Reef flip flops today. Cause they went with my outfit, okay. I guess it's just a risk I'm willing to take. Risky McGee.

+ posted by Special J at 2:34 PM


For all those playing along at home: JOHN HALL FAILED TO COME HOME THIS WEEKEND FROM A SOFTBALL TOURNAMENT IN DENVER. This means, permission was not asked. Ahhh.. I think to relieve my anxiousness, I need to do some shopping. So, maybe next weekend. Ah, I'm dying here..

This weekend was nice though. Real nice. Friday I ended up staying at work until 6:30. This was not cool, but I had to ship my blasted book. So, then I got home at the same time as Brian, which was pefect. We slept for a bit and then had a late dinner at On the yummy Border.

I'm not gonna lie, we really didn't do much this weekend. It was just nice. Prepare to barf, but we cuddled for like 49 hours this week. We also saw Napoleon Dynamite for the second time, it rocked, and then later that night after I cleaned and Brian previewed new computer games, we went on a real date to the Pizza Parlor. Then we rented at Blockbuster and called it a night.

So today was more of the same and we looked at bigscreens at Best Buy and I worked at the office for two hours and now I'm doing laundry and watching that Amish reality show my mom's obsessed with. You know, sometimes I think I get wayyyyyy too worked up and stressed out, so this weekend was perfect. Laying low and being together.

+ posted by Special J at 7:15 PM