blogging bytes

I have many disjointed things scurrying through my little brain (much like that horrifically disturbing mouse with the ear attached to it's back that terrified me on Nip/Tuck this week). Let's do some housecleaning, shall we?

1. I've discovered and isolated a New Pet Peeve, and here it is: when people look at my feet when I am wearing tall boots (this never seems to happen with heels, just boots) and say "Geez, Jenn. Like you need the height or something". I find this pertains especially to my Giant Gestapo-meets-90's-grunge-movement Black Sketcher Boots that put me at like 6'1-ish (they are platform-y. Wow, I've made them sound hideous and crazy, no? But they're totally cute and normal looking, really). I HATE this because it makes no sense. Do short women wear heels just so they can like reach things off of high shelves? Why don't they just master the delicate art of stilt-walking? And then they can dress like Uncle Sam and walk around fairs and carnivals freaking people the hell out and forcing me to resist the urge to try and tip them over, and that's very hard for me sometimes.


2. I had a crush on Tom Petty when I was 12 and obsessed with his CD "Wildflowers"-actually, I had a tape that I played in my electric yellow Walkman, as I am old.

Then one day I was like "oh, hey dad, I've just discovered this great new musician named Tom Petty, you probably have never heard of him as he is very cutting edge and I am a super cool 90's kid and you are old" and he was like "Um, Jennifer, he's older than me, and he's been around since the 70's" and then I was like "oh, whatever, I don't even care, I will go listen to my Spin Doctors and UB40 tapes because those bands are awesome and will surely stand the test of time (I had both of those tapes as well, thankssoverymuch)", but I never stopped loving Tom Petty. Look how pretty he was about 10 years before I was born! Note: this little factoid doesn't have much to do with anything, I just founded the picture and needed a vehicle through which to display it.

3. In a previous blog post, I erroneously referred to my dear friend Natalie as lacking in class because she disliked a classy movie and pretends to "bake" pies by pouring pre-made Jell-o into a pre-made pie crust and claiming to be Wolfgang Puck. Clearly, I was very, very wrong. I would like to extend a formal retraction, and not because she has been yelling at me and whining about the blog post for like 8 days straight now. Because I was wrong. She is very, very, very, VERY classy. She is also batshit crazy. But NEVER un-classy!

4. Ok, in #3 I called Natalie "batshit crazy". This is not true either. She is only mildly crazy. Let's say 37% crazy, and the rest percent that I refuse to calculate is crazy FUN (as in where else would I find someone who says "sure, let's go!" in reference to driving to French Lick, IN, driving to Cincinnati from Bloomington for ONE DAY just to go shopping, and driving to the movie theater to see School of Rock. For the 43nd time).

5. I also must say hello (or extend a "shout-out", as the kids say these days) to Ariel, who was in town this weekend and joined me and the ever-so-classy Natalie (NOT SARCASTIC!! SARSERIOUS!!!) for a less than classy dinner last night. Ariel, who reads my blog and always says nice things about it even though she has a far more interesting life, has funny stories to tell regarding candy corn being caught in places where candy corn shouldn't, and would probably never be caught dead wearing what I am wearing right now to type this entry (a turquoise, inside-out Indiana t-shirt, men's Abercrombie sweatpants that I am not sure from where I procured, a neon-green headband, and zit-cream, in case you needed a visual. Also, on an un-related note, how come no one ever tells you that you will sometimes need zit-cream after your teens? This is a dirty secret that no one wants to discuss. So now I have to worry about moisturizing my wrinkles and clearing up pimples. FABULOUS).