27 October 2009

So this homeless guy walks next to a grocery store...

I used to write several times each week and I want to write more, but it seems that I have nothing positive to share – which is an odd thing for me to admit because the last year I’ve felt happier than I can ever remember feeling. But my happiness has been overshadowed by a never-ending job search. It took me eight months to find the job I have now and that experience can best be described as a long, unsuccessful attempt at finding work in St. Louis, only to end abruptly with an unexpected job offer 100 miles away.

Now I’m working, but I’m not really making ends meet and my job is less than satisfying. I want to make a positive difference, have a career that is challenging and is something I can be passionate about. However, I basically shuffle paper from point A to point B, and while, if I didn’t do my job it would have a negative effect on a variety of people, I’m capable of much more. If I were a dog, my owner would come home from work to find the couch torn to pieces out of frustration.

Yet, I feel fortunate.

I have an insane amount of friends and I’m making more all the time. I have an amazing family who supports and loves me, offers advice and help, and am surrounded by an overwhelming amount of people who love and care for me. I’m lucky, I’m blessed, I am fortunate.

Could things be better? Yes.

Could things be worse? Hell yes.

The never-ending supply of people willing to push aside their own problems and concerns to listen to mine, it’s astonishing. I am thankful, but I feel that whatever I do will never be enough because I’ve been given so much. I am indebted to everyone who touches my life and I do my best to give back and pay it forward.

The other evening I ran to the grocery store to get a cheap bottle of wine and as I approached the store, I saw a homeless man and heard him ask a young guy for one dollar. The young guy says he has nothing to give and walks away snickering. I was perturbed and at the same time, I felt like, although I don’t have a pot to piss in, I’m at the store buying wine – I can spare a dollar. I’m not sure what I gave him exactly, four or five dollars, I just handed it to him.

As I walked into the store I decided that I should buy that homeless man a sandwich. I stood in line for-ev-er because the checkout girl wasn't 21. By the time I get outside the guy is headed around the corner, so I run after him and say, "SIR! I bought something for you." I hand him the sandwich. He thanks me profusely. I walk away and after about five steps turn back just in time to see him peeing on the side of the grocery store.

…when you gotta go…

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Listening to: Solange Knowles – Sandcastle Disco
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Happy 40th Birthday, Ryan!!!

19 October 2009

Happy Belated Birthday, sort of

Today is Sandra's birthday and all I can do is think of her. I want to call her so badly, but she's dead. And, fuck if I don't feel like a bitch for so bluntly writing, "she's dead." But she is.

It's been 17 months and it still hurts.

Like I wrote before:

My silly aunt, the shit-disturber, the feisty one, the one I got together with to misbehave, make inappropriate jokes and share secrets - she wasn't supposed to die at 46.

But it happened.


Happy Birthday, Sandra. I miss you terribly.

We all do.

06 October 2009

Real Chance of Mixup

Tonight was the 9th Monday in a row that I've gone to a friend's to watch Real Chance of Love 2. Like most people, I'm not A Monday Person (technically I'm not A Morning Person), but I can't wait for Monday night to roll around. And the first thing I do when I get home from watching the newest episode, I get online to watch the Bonus Clips so I can see the unaired show footage.



Dude, that's not Real - that's Chance - on a date with Mamacita.

I sometimes make them myself and I sometimes overlook them, but I love to catch mistakes like this.

It's very exhilarating.

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Watching: Real Chance of Love 2 - Episode 9 Bonus Clips
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04 October 2009

I got yelled at by a crazy person

Day 100: I'm still not in the best of spirits AND I have to go the DMV today - for the second time this week.

At roughly 3:15 this afternoon, Nico bolted out of my apartment building to chase a squirrel. She dragged me down the stairs, I wasn't there to catch the door - and it slammed. Loudly. It happens. And I'm not the only one who does it.

So I'm wrestling with my dog, the door slams and I'm mid-cringe when I hear someone from above yell out their window, "Blah blah something, Jennifer, blah blah blah." The only word I understood was Jennifer, but I thought I heard something about the door, so I look up and confusingly ask, "what?" To which I distinctly heard, "YOU'RE A MORON! Slam the door a little harder!!!"

I said, "thank you," in a stunned but polite and slightly sarcastic tone of voice. She abruptly closed the window.

I took Nico for a quick walk and played the incident over in my head.

The lady upstairs -- the one who, at every time of the day and night, I've heard yelling and stomping from room to room, throwing things onto the floor over and over again, beating on the walls, slamming doors, storming out of the building, only to come right back in and do all that nonsense over again. As proofreading this blog post, the door slammed, someone stomped upstairs and they're stomping in the bedroom above me right now. It's 10:34 pm. I've heard this at midnight, at two in the morning, and one day last week she woke me up for work at 6:36 am. At that time of the day I don't even want to talk to anybody. She was up there yelling, throwing things and jumping on the floor repeatedly -- that lady, she just called me a moron.

Really, a moron? Really, someone just yelled out the window, to me, Jennifer, that I'm a... moron? I don't even know what to think, but dang, that kind of sucks.

I wouldn't shut up about it this afternoon. While standing in the thrift store (the pink elephant was there today!), my friend stopped me in the middle of at least the 16th rant, he put his hand on my shoulder and rationalized, "it sounds to me like you got yelled at by a crazy person. I wouldn't let it bother you too much." And he's right.

Damn, lady, I'm sorry the door slammed. But I think it's a little messed up that I'm apologizing for a door slam, when you're upstairs kicking over the refrigerator at 4:30 on a Wednesday morning. Get a grip.

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Listening to: The Isley Brothers - Footsteps in the Dark
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