"I Told You So"

VoicePost 650K 3:27

(no transcription available)

I dunno why all the strange little beeps are included . . .

Be warned - me singing "On My Own" from Les Miserables.

VoicePost 691K 3:45

(no transcription available)

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Mr. Common Sense. Mr. Sense had been with us for centuries. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such value lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, a penny saved is a penny earned, and that life isn't always fair.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not kids, are in charge, and spare the
rod - spoil the child).

His health began to rapidly deteriorate when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. - Reports of a six-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition. It was hastened by the ruling of the Supreme Court that equates free speech as free expression such as burning the American flag.

Mr. Sense declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer aspirin to a student; but could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense worsened terribly when a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot, she spilled a bit in her lap, and was awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband; churches became businesses; criminals received better treatment than their victims; and terrorists at Gitmo were provided better food than the elderly and poor in America.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust, his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason. He is survived by two stepbrothers; My Rights and Ima Whiner. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he is gone.

Now, this poll is a little racy for me, but, I did promise wurmwyd that I'd post it for him to respond to. (As though we don't already know!) So, feel free to jump right in and respond, too.

( Would you . . . )

Are you a reader? Do you like books? Want to talk about books you liked and didn't like and all that jazz? Join _bookish_!

G'head now. Join.

G'head.

Gon'.

GO!

This post is spoiler free.

So I stayed up late to finish Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. My goodness, what a read. I have to say it's one of my favorites of the series. And I have to say that I was correct about my plot predictions, as well. (Much to my dismay, that is.) By the by, should anyone like to further discuss the topic, shoot me an e-mail to jenna [dot] czaplewski [at] gmail [dot] com. I trust you know how to dechiper that code. I don't want to spoil anything for anyone who does not want to be spoiled.

Now I face the daunting task of selecting which book to read next. I go through this every time a new Harry Potter book comes out and I finish it. I feel like nothing is going to compare to Harry Potter and I'm sure some well-deserving books get the shaft because of my bias. I'll have to go through the bookshelves downstairs tonight.

No work for me tonight - yay! Instead Mom and I are resuming Wednesday Movie Night with "Mr. & Mrs. Smith." I want to see it, she doesn't. This should be interesting.

Speaking of Mom, she's been rather cranky of late. I need to tell her it's my PMS week, not hers! ;)

And even as I begin this, I wonder to myself if any of you out there really give a damn. It's been nearly a week since my last update. I could have fallen off the face of the earth by now and not heard from any of you! Tsk, tsk, children. How you hurt my feelings!

Anyway. I'm around. Working, living, reading. Yes, I'm reading Harry Potter and I'm very anxious to see how things work out. But I'm not done yet so no one spoil me or else I'll throw the world's largest temper tantrum. And that just ain't pretty.

I bought a new computer for home. It's lovely and quiet and actually allows me to run more than one program at once. I can browse the internet without fear of things just shutting down. And it wasn't too bad price wise. Mom doesn't seem to be getting on with the new machine all that well, but that's just too damn bad. She'd best stop complaining before I yank the new one out, give her back the old crappy one and keep the new one all for me! ;)

Work is work. I come in, I do what they ask me, I go home - where my life truly exists. Last week's review really hammered home a few things. That who I am and my self worth aren't determined by my job. That I know what I'm worth and my bosses will never acknowledge that. That I'm damn good at what I do and my past "mistakes" keep getting thrown at me because they have nothing else to say. That I deserve more than I'm getting here. That God will truly always have a plan for my life and I need to trust in Him when things are bad and He will see me through. That cuddling with a warm puppy is excellent therapy for a crushed spirit and wallowing.

I had a last minute babysitting job last night which earned me $35. I'm putting that toward tickets to "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat." Claire has finally learned to say my name and heaven help me those kids have my heart. All of them. There's nothing better than watching a soon to be two-year-old run around with cookie on her face and her little butt cheek hanging out of her diaper. Unless it's hugs and kisses from kids you adore with all your heart who say "I love you, too, Jenna" when you tuck them in. Priceless. Trust me on that.

Tonight I need to do some things at home and call Jim. He's back in town and called me on Sunday, but I was at my Dad's and I haven't gotten to call him back yet. And there must be Harry Potter time, friends. Must be.

What it boils down to is that I work for assholes and bitches. Nothing I ever do will ever be good enough for them. Once again, my past so-called "errors in judgement" from 18 months to a year ago were brought up in my review. Along with bogus claims that I "spend too much time on the internet." Which is bullshit. I love how I get accused of doing something I didn't do and then, when I defend myself and have the gall to say that there's an explanation (try fucking pop-ups and spams you rat bastards) I get looked at like I'm crazy.

There's more to the story. And perhaps I'll be up to posting the whole shebang tomorrow. For now, I'm upset. I managed to hold everything together long enough to get home where I started crying and then had to stop to go babysit. But now bed is calling, I'm puppy sitting so I've got Macca to curl up with. I plan on crying and wallowing tonight and then starting tomorrow new.

Oh yeah, and my "raise." Fucking 2%. Thanks for the extra $500 a year, fuck mooks.

Saturday: I order a new computer from Dell for Mom and me. I got a great deal and, let's face it, my 1998 Compaq is shot to hell. It was time for a new computer. After I received confirmation of my order, I go out to the living room where Mom and Gramma are sitting, and I say "I've ordered us a new computer!".

Monday night: I get home after puppy-sitting and talk to Gramma. In the course of the conversation, I tell her that the new computer I bought will be shipped and arriving this week. Since she's the only one home during the day, she needed to know because she'll have to sign for it from UPS. She grunts a wordless acknowledgement to me.

Wednesday: Gramma calls Mom at Michelle and Paul's house to say that UPS has tried twice to deliver packages that have to be signed for but no one was home when they tried. (She was home - she was just in the basement or outside or refusing to answer the door.) Then she bitches because she'll have to "rearrange her schedule" on Thursday so that UPS can make the delivery between 10:30 and 2.

Thursday morning: I get a phone call from Mom who is absolutely livid. Gramma called her at Michelle and Paul's this morning and asked her to come over to the house while she finished some yard work in case the UPS guy was early. Mom packs up Macca (it's extremely taxing and difficult to drive with him as he constantly wants to sit on your lap as you drive) and goes to our house where Gramma finishes her 15-minutes of yard work and then asks Mom why she didn't tell her that we bought a new computer. Mom says that I told her, which is true, and Gramma just huffs. Then Gramma tells Mom that she can leave now and proceeds to go back outside in the back yard to clean the lawn mower. (Does anyone know what happens when UPS has tried 3 times to make a delivery that has to be signed for and are unsuccessful each time?)

What it boils down to is money. Gramma is pissed off because she thinks Mom and I have money that we're (a) hiding from her, (b) lying about or (c) mismanaging. But, dammit, it's MY MONEY. I'm the one who sits in this cubicle five days a week to earn it and if I want to use $20 a month to buy a new computer, then, dammit, I will!

My desk is a disaster zone.


And I'm loving it.

Mom and I watched Hotel Rwanda last night. Powerfully sad movie. And, after seeing it, I'm 100% in agreement with Jim when he told me that watching that movie would make me wonder what good the UN is. He couldn't be more right.

'An estimated 800,000 Rwandans have been killed in 100 days.'

This is one of the families I help in my job. If you're able and interested, please help.

Gabby's Lifesavers

Hey, gefiltebitch? Have you heard from Jess or anyone about how her surgery went? I'd've e-mailed you, but I don't have your address. Fill me in if you know, okay? Many, many thanks!

I love you Jessa. You're in my thoughts and prayers and I hope everything goes smoothly. You are truly one of my best friends.

So much love for you.

I work in an industrial park. Really, I do. The ground floor is still used as a warehouse and there are times when the entire building shakes and rumbles with the move of equipment. And there are trains that come into and out of the building. It's noisy and all that good stuff. But there are many other businesses in the office. Our business, for example, has the majority of the third floor and we had it completely gutted and rebuilt to be as lovely as it is today.

This morning, I arrived at the office and stopped off on the first floor to use the restroom since I didn't think I'd make it upstairs. And as I sat down, I looked up and, on the wall directly in front of me was a sign that read "BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING."

And I thought . . . is he enjoying the view?

O_O

Lord God of the Nations, we are reminded of the uncertain world we live in by the bombings in London yesterday morning. These terrorist acts bring great sadness to our hearts and suffering to the victims of these explosions. We pray that you would extend your mighty hand and stem these acts of violence. Frustrate the plans of those who plot the deaths of innocent civilians. Save the lives of the injured. Comfort those who mourn. Be our rock when the world is shaking. In the name of our Savior who came into this world of death and uncertainty to give us life and security we offer this prayer. Amen.

1. Falling in love.

2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.

3. A hot shower.

4. No lines at the supermarket

5. A special glance.

6. Getting mail

7. Taking a drive on a pretty road.

8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.

9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.

10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.

11. Chocolate milkshake (or vanilla or strawberry!)

12. A bubble bath.

13. Giggling.

14. A good conversation.

15. The beach

16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.

17. Laughing at yourself.

18. Holding a newborn baby.

19. Midnight phone calls that last for hours.

20. Running through sprinklers.

21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.

22. Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.

23. Laughing at an inside joke.

24. Friends.

25. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.

26. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.

27. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).

28. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.

29. Playing with a new puppy.

30. Having someone play with your hair.

31. Sweet dreams.

32. Hot chocolate.

33. Road trips with friends.

34. Swinging on swings.

35. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.

36. Making chocolate chip cookies.

37. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.

38. Holding hands with someone you care about.

39. Running into an old friend and realizing that some things (good or bad) never change.

40. Watching the expression on someone's face as they open a much desired present from you.

41. Watching the sunrise.

42. Getting out of bed every morning and being grateful for another beautiful day.

43. Knowing that somebody misses you.

44. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.

45. Knowing you've done the right thing, no matter what other people think.

I had a friend in college named Laura who I have since lost touch with. We stayed in contact for about a year or two after I graduated, but then, it just seemed as though she dropped off the face of the earth. She always had a soft spot for being contacted. She told me once, shortly before we lost touch, that she was tired of "having to be the one who contacts her friends." She felt that she was always reaching out, always trying to set up some kind of get-together or some such thing, and she didn't like it. She wanted them to reach out to her, too. And maybe that's why we lost touch. Maybe the burden of reaching out to Laura had shifted permanently to my shoulders and I just didn't follow through. But, the point is, I know what she means. I know how she feels.

Maybe this is just hormones or tiredness talking or something, but, to a large extent, I feel like the friend who has to reach out. And if I don't, well, then I don't talk to or communicate with or see my friends. And let me say, speaking from experience, it sucks. It's hurtful. It feels like those people who you feel so close to and care so much about only remember you or talk to you when they have time. When you push yourself back in front of them and jump up and down shouting for a bit of their time and attention. Then, as my grandmother often says, the light bulb goes back on.

I don't know. I'm tired. I'm a little cranky at having to come back to work. But, still, I know how Laura felt. And it really sucks.