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I love you.

Wanted

One BLT + Avocado.

Will Pay Handsomely for Delivery.

Thank you.

Signed,

Starving Girl at Work

The Genius of Morgan McSpurlock

I finally watched Super Size Me last night.

Spurlock made some interesting and compelling points, especially those concerning his toxic, fatty liver and the fact that he gained 24.5 pounds in thirty days.

Although I don't think this negates the personal responsibility of people to ingest healthy food, his acknowledgment of this fact allows me to appreciate the goals of his experiment.

I've eaten McDonald's a total of four times this year.

In February because I was desperately hungry and it was late. I had a Fish Filet meal.

In March because it was _really_ late and I was desperately hungry. I had a Double Cheeseburger meal.

In May because I actually wanted it and was in a hurry to get to Great America. I had some kind of flakey biscuity sausage McMuffin thing.

And then last night because it was the principle and humor of the whole situation. You practically have to eat McDonald's while watching his flick, although I've only found two other people who agree with this ideaology so far. That's okay. I'm not giving up. I had a Big Mac, a cheeseburger, _and_ most of a large fries.

The fries that never, ever decompose. Ever.

The point was to stuff myself.

Our new hygienist, Lisa, suggested that in order to stave off heart disease I drink some red wine, so I popped open a very lovely bottle of Chumeia. It was a truly excellent meal and one I hope I'm not bound to repeat soon because I'm still full and I have a Mcbrick in my Mctummy. Totally worth it though.

Thanks, Morgan.

Wahoooo!

Stinky is on Holiday!

And I'm feigning I'm British today.

More to come later.

For Kate:

Greatest American Hero (Believe it or Not) by Mike Post and Stephen Geyer

Look at what's happened to me,
I can't believe it myself.
Suddenly I'm up on top of the world,
It should've been somebody else.

Believe it or not,
I'm walking on air.
I never thought I could feel so free-.
Flying away on a wing and a prayer.
Who could it be?
Believe it or not it's just me.

It's like a light of a new day-,
It came from out of the blue.
Breaking me out of the spell I was in,
Making all of my wishes come true-.

Believe it or not,
I'm walking on air.
I never thought I could feel so free-.
Flying away on a wing and a prayer.
Who could it be?
Believe it or not it's just me.

Good and Bad

Girlfriends are good.
Migraines are bad.

Dinner dates are good.
Going out every night of the week is bad.

Sweat is good.
Stinky BO is bad.

Liking your boss is good.
Hating your job is bad.

Having a blog is good.
This post is very, very bad.

Hah.

What a way to greet the hump-day!

Drunk dials from Maren with my friend Kate, from rugby, on the message!

That, is downright, rad.

Kate and I used to sing the words to the Greatest American Hero while running laps at practice. Kate, is hilarious and one of the funniest drunks I've ever known.

Thank you for that wonderful wake up call - even if I didn't get it until 7:25 this morning.

:)

Riding on a motorcycle is fun.

Always.

Makes me miss my little Honda Rebel.

I should be in a Midol commericial

I'm so bloated I could die.

Owwwww.

Nothing fits.

Cramps hurt.

Benihana

I went there last night and had a terrible martini. Truly one of the worst martinis I have ever had. Bleh.

It was a minorly festive occasion - although not nearly so much as for me as for the table behind me.

It was Dude's birthday. And I say Dude because that's exactly who this guy was, quintessential Dude.

He and his frat boyfriends got completely schnockered and slurred their words, cheered it up, gave away their money, clapped their rice-laden hands together and partied until the place closed and they had to go home and sleep it off. All for the big 22!

I can't even remember what I did on my twenty-second birthday.

Holy crap I'm an old fart.

Probably something uneventful with a very clever asshat named Chase. Or else we were broken up and I was beyond clinically depressed - I honestly have no recollection.


***************************


I wonder if 10:30 is too early for beer? I'm very bored at work today.

Maria is here. I bet I could get her to drink some vodka and Red Bull with me.

Speaking of Red Bull and vodka - Evan Goepfert used to try and get me to drink this drink back when I thought I didn't like it. I am using his full name because I want to find him. I'm hoping that he's vain enough to Google himself, and will be directed here.

Let's see if this plan works.

Hah.

This little blog of mine -

I admit I have mixed feelings about it.

Sometimes, it feels very strange and weird to be out here, in the tundra that is the Internet where anyone can just stumble across my random stories about bugs and Frosted Flakes and Jesus knows what else.

I believe Kevan would call it narcissistic drivel about my lonely life - but fuck him. He doesn't even stop by here to say hello. ;)

Other times, like this morning, I get a reminder that there's purpose in it when I am contacted by someone I haven't heard from in years. Someone I might never have run into again were it not for this silly little spot where I archive my bruised apples, irritated eyeballs, and broken-hearted moments.

These random connections have happened several times and it's weird, everytime, when someone from my past Googles me. Everytime I realize the power of the Internet, I get a little bit tripped out.

That I've affected someone and they choose to seek me out, hoping to find a snippet of my life and Google directs them here, to read about Columbus the Silverfish (may he rest in peace), or GunGuy, or about how Nations all beef patties really are made with all the dead guys that GunGuy probably shot down the street from my ghetto-fabulous apartment, is great albeit probably not exactly what they were hoping for.

(At least I hope it was Google - this particular person just said "search engine", but really, is there any other?)


Also, in reviewing my archives while getting links for this post I am struck with the knowledge that life is really good right now.

The Starbucks Jocelyn

They called out a Grande Latte - for Jocelyn.

Instinctively, I lunged. Afterall, it was coffee, and I wasn't awake.

Someone else got it first.

I said, "Umm. I think that's mine, unless your name is Jocelyn," In my less than polite, I haven't-yet-had-any-coffee-bitch-voice.

She said, "Oh. It is. But let me check to make sure."

!!!

We ordered the same drink!
She had brown hair too!
She was nice to me!

I apologized.

I'm such a clown.

There's a gnat in my eye oh what I'm a gonna do....

So the other night I'm walking Lake Merritt quick-like, and I'm listening to Maren go on about how Chance finally dumped Kat and isn't at all upset about it, when a rather large piece of debris lands in my eye.

It stings. It burns.

It is moving.

Now, I know you all are thinking, "Whatever happened to your great bug karma, Jocelyn?"

Well, I'll tell you what - it all ended with the mishap that was Columbus, the silverfish, may he rest in peace.

Anyway, I realize this clod of dirt is a gnat, and a rather large one, but not wanting to be rude and interrupt Maren's fantastic and interesting story I bend over and scream the-silent-scream-of-burning-eye-pain and keep listening, engrossed.

I work up some tears and touch on my eyeball a smidge, trying to get the poor gnat out of my eye, but he's worked himself down into that part that no one can get to without some water and a mirror, and I'm a good two miles from home.

The searing pain abates and I figure gnatty is good and gone and continue to chat it up with Maren for two more miles until my phone battery dies and I'm almost completely home.

Shower, dinner, and then bed.

Wake up the next morning surprised to find a huge clump of black eye make-up (mascara?) near the corner of my eye. But wait, mascara doesn't have wings!

Ewww .. gnatty spent all night sleeping in my eyeball.

How gross is that?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Heh.

No time of day is safe

to be naked in my bedroom. For a nap, to chillax, or anything.

There are people prepping my building for painting at all hours of the day and they love to scootch their extension ladders right in front of my windows.

Jeezo pervs!

They do this to the bathroom too, but at least the frosted glass there prevents them from watching me pee-pee.

I dropped my Fuji Apple on its head

and it bounced.

Twice.

Now it has ugly Fuji Apple bruise.

Sorry apple.

Even more sorry, mouth.

:(

The Boys in the Hood

They are always hard. They are.

I just came home from having Pho, and as I was walking, I was minding my own business (well, mostly) and I passed this group of gregarious African-Americans who were playfully insulting one another.

I was turning onto my street when I couldn't help but notice that one of them was pointing a gun at his friends and saying, "You want to talk some shit now?"

Yeah.

You know you live in the ghetto when.

And I just hung up those goddamn shelves.

Shit.

Drunken Phone Calls

At 2:35 in the morning.

And _not_ from Maren!

I was shocked!

I woke up and grumbled, "Jesus Christ, Maren," only to find I was very wrong in assuming that Maren was drunk and was in fact drunk dialing me (again).

Not that she hasn't done it on multiple occasions. Just not last night. Last night it was a blast from my past who jolted me awake (well, semi-consciously so) to the point where I know that actual words came out of my mouth. Words that resembled something like cogent sentences.

Not sure though - I mean, it was 2:35am.

I paid him back with a phone call at 6:30 this morning while I was getting up to go to work.

Take that, sucka.

Entering Lunar Migraine Phase #

3,462.

Sweet.

Bring it on, mothafucka.

I'm convinced, that when the periods stop, the headaches will too, however I'm not exactly sure how to make them stop aside from:

a) getting knocked up and giving my love child up for adoption
b) going on some crazy ass horomone pill that prevents periods, like, what's that new pill, season-all? something like that? someone remind me?


Or maybe, I could just have periods all the time - this is my other option as it seems that as soon as I get my period, after my 10 days of hell, the headaches break and I have complete euphoria for three or four days.

Dream about Ryan

Last night I had a dream that Loaloamuki himself was teaching me about quarks and leptons, except I was being overly snooty and assuming that I knew a whole lot about them.

To prove his point that I didn't, Ryan took these little swatches of fabric and laid them out and his and Amber's coffee table and took a little eyedropper of stuff (mystery physics-guy stuff) and dripped it across the fabric.

Suddenly little blue stripes appeared on the fabric!

Presto! Leptons and quarks existed. That was my experiment with physics in my dream even though I know that's not how any of it works.

Good spending time with you though Ryan.

;)

You too Amber, although you were mostly bored of us.

Back up and running - mostly.

Yay!

Thanks Nick, for working your arse off to keep things up - well, mostly up anyway.

I will get back to my posting here as soon as I can. Things at my work have been breaking all over the place and I've got to tend to them first.

Thanks again!

Nacho Cheese Corn Nuts

Are Goooooooood.

Yummmy.