This is… surprising, I know. Roll with it.
It occurred to me today that I haven’t been keeping y’all properly updated. I’ve been doing all this emo rambling, but I haven’t really been TELLING you anything, have I? Bad me. This must be remedied.
Before we begin, a teaser on the topics to be covered (because I want to entice you to read to the bitter end). So, webheads, expect to be enlightened on all of the following:
1. Sporty exploits
2. Work snafus
3. My slow rise to super-stardom and world domination
4. My deep and abiding love for a Hollywood c-lister
5. My beta fish and his hotly debated name
6. Recent near-death experiences (and the painful results)
Ready, steady, go!
Agenda Item 1: Ballin’
My team won the Spring championship! That’s right. The Blitzkrieg Boppers won the recreational division playoffs a couple of weeks ago. We’ve consequently decided to move up a division, so now we’re playing at the intermediate level in the summer season (with a few player changes). Here’s a pic of the team (or rather, most of the team) after our big win:
Agenda Item 2: Workin’
My office is FREEZING. So cold, in fact, that on Friday my boss offered to go out and buy me a blanket. Only, the lone store close by that carried anything blanket-esque was the dollar store. And the only blankets available at said dollar store were baby blankets. But you know, beggars can’t be choosers. Alas, I forgot I was wearing the darn thing and waddled into the afternoon staff meeting with it wrapped around my shoulders. So now more than half the staff has seen me swaddled in a too-small bit of baby-blue fleece covered with cartoon ducks and the words "quack quack quack". Adorable? Yes. Professional? No. Who wants to take bets on how long it’ll be before I get fired?
Agenda Item 3: Famin’ (Not to be confused with either famine or flamin’, neither of which I am experiencing.)
I’m gonna be on Cosmo TV again. They’ve invited me back to the show Oh So Cosmo to speak about yet another item of vital pop-culture importance: PDAs. We may be shooting the segment tomorrow. What are your thoughts on the topic, guys? Public Displays of Affection - are you for them? Against? I’m not sure where I stand. I’ve been guilty of participation in the phenomenon of late, which isn’t to say I feel so good about it. Weigh in, would ya?
Agenda Item 4: Stalkin’
I’ve written before about how I love Zach Braff’s blog, right? (I have.) But the truth is, he’s a really unreliable post-writer, and as a result, I sort of stopped checking his site awhile back. It occurred to me last week, when I really needed a laugh, that it had been well over a year (and possibly even two) since I’d even glanced at it. So I spent a little time catching up on him last week and I’m so glad I did because that boy is really effing hilarious. Like, snort-out-loud-wish-he-was-my-interweb-boyfriend hilarious. One of his posts is titled, “Blog. Cog. Snog. Frog. Oh my Gog!” I’m sorry, I just find that so adorable.
Here are some additional choice excerpts:
“I’m not sure when or why the tabloid angle on me was decided that I am a cad. I would have much rather it had been that I am secretly a dentist or that I love soup … Yes; I am dating. When we shoot Scrubs I spend every waking hour of my life in an abandoned and haunted hospital. All I can date there are ghosts and they tend to be horrible snugglers. So anyway, blah, blah, blah. Don’t believe the hype.”
“What is the deal with all these myspace spammers lately? You’d think after Tom sold the company for 100 zillion dollars he’d spend a few bucks of it on trying to figure out how to stop that. Everytime I check my page there’s something like, “I love this fucking ringtone so much I wanna have sex with it all night long. I wanna impregnate this fucking ring tone. I wanna knock up this ring tone and marry it in Vegas, then have the wedding annulled the next day. That’s how fucking excited I am about this ringtone.”
“Remember Romper room when they would say goodbye to a few random names? They never said Zach. Stupid room.”
I don’t know why I like this stuff so much. I just do. Dear Zach Braff, you are adorable. I am a fan. I admit it. I admit fandom.
God, I wish I was funny (like that). I really do. Or you know, that someone equally funny loved me. Something like that. Although, this is a dangerous desire. I read something in a novel about this idea once – this desire to be funny. I won’t name the book, but in it, one character is sort of giving another single woman character dating advice and she says, “Don’t be funny. Funny is the opposite of sexy.” Later, the advisee protests. “Listen,” she says. “Funny is the best thing I am.” And the wise adviser, being wise, says, “Making jokes is your way of saying Do you love me? And when someone laughs you think they’ve said yes.”
That line gave me PAUSE, lemme tell you.
Okay. What else? (You’ve made it this far! Don’t stop now!)
Agenda Item 5: Namin’
You know Nathan, my beta fish, right? Nathan Phillipsquare? Yeah, him. I really love that little guy. He makes me happy. I named him Nathan for a variety of reasons. For one thing, it seemed a very Torontonian sort of a name and I was down with that. Also, I had no friends named Nathan at the time, so it was sort of neutral. Finally, I just thought it was funny (see above). Alas, over the last year, I’ve met a lot of Nathans. Four, actually. And recently it’s just become a bit awkward. Every morning It's like, "Good morning Nathan! I love you Nathan! Here are your pellets and yummy yummy blood worms Nathan!"
I don’t like it much anymore. So what do I do?
Patty is insistent that I should rename him Oscar (as in De La Hoya). She’s already started calling him that herself. But I don’t know if I can! I mean, I’ve had the little guy almost a year already! In human years, he’s like, 25 or something. What if, when I turned 25, someone had said to me, “Okay, so, the Jen years are over. We’re done with the whole Jen thing. From now on you are … Matilda! Be Matilda. Matilda is who you ARE. Go forth, Matilda. Prosper.”
That kind of thing would have seriously fucked up my identity, don’t you think?
Agenda Item 6: Hurtin’
I hurt myself at softball practice this morning. Like, maybe bad. Like, were I more readily able to cry in public, I might have cried bad. See, I was pitching, and I guess pitching in such a way as to cause the guys to hit a fair number of line drives at me. Nathan (see!?) hit two right at my head, basically. Both missed. The first whizzed by my ear in a disturbing way, but wasn’t super close. The second actually grazed my neck. I felt it. Yikes. After that, I was pretty skittish, but I kept pitching. My friend John was last up to bat and the whole time I was throwing to him I had a bad feeling. Tempting fate, you know? And indeed I was. He hit one right at my head, and I didn’t have time to think or duck or anything. I just instinctively threw my (right, ungloved) hand up to protect my face.
Result? Face: saved. Hand: fucked.
It’s taken me about a year to type this post, in fact. One handed, baby.
After this whole thing went down, Neil commented on how strange it is that I giggle incessantly, regardless of how I’m feeling. I did end up doing a lot of giggling immediately after taking the hit as a matter of fact. Some of you will know what that means. Sigh.
Really, it’s not so bad. The ball mostly caught the meaty part of my palm, and I’m sure nothing’s broken. At first, I was a little scared, because my hand sort of curled up in frozen shock at first. I couldn’t move it at all. I tried. My brain told my thumb to move and my thumb said no. (Actually, it said, “fuck off” because it’s mean that way.) That’s a weird and frightening feeling – telling your body to do something and having it refuse. But the numbness wore off pretty quickly. And the boys were all lovely and nice about taking care of me after. Neil brought me a shwarma (yum!) and John gave me strict icing instructions which have helped. I’ve been icing it on and off all day and it feels pretty good now. I don’t bruise too easily, so it looks pretty good too. Just a bit swollen. It’ll probably be way better by tomorrow. (I hope.)
Okay. Gotta stop. For one thing, it’s mental to be typing all this with one hand. For another, it’s terrible to write a post this long. Bad internet manners. That’s what I’ve got.
That, and a messed up hand … and a beta named Nathan … and a crush on Zach Braff … and a date with Cosmo TV … and a dubious work-rep … and a sporty hobby that often gets me hurt (physically and emotionally), but that’s fun anyway.
Yep. That about sums it up. Consider yourselves up to date.
Peace and Love and Pieces of Love,