Awww!!! This is Mike, my fat little baby! He has some health problems that make him so fat, but that just makes us love him more!
As you can see, I am bored right now, not much happening, not much to do.
And it's raining outside, so I can't go swimming either.

loves! at janeh928@yahoo.com

Moms, and our pathetic attempts to communicate with them....

Called my mutha' yesterday. The conversation went a little like this:

Me:"Hi, mom."
Her:"Hellooo. (Mary Kay selling voice. This is why it's taken me 15 attempts to get through at the homefront.) The cat just threw up."
Me: "Oh."
(long pause)
"Which one?"
Her: "Leo. SO...how is Jeremy?" (referring to boyfriend, living currently 5 states away)
Me: (out loud) "Fine. Busy." (inside head) "I have no idea, the asshat hasn't called in a week, and his last email read: "Hey babe. Really snowed under right now. Will call when I have time to actually have a conversation. j"
Her: "So you haven't broken up yet? I thought that would be over by now."
Me: "No. Still dating. Hey, the reason I call...."
Her:"Well, I'm making phone calls right now. Can't talk, better go! Call if you need more lipstick!"
CLICK!!!

Oh well, didn't have news or anything. It's not like I could have possibly needed to talk to her, considering I took the time to call her and all. I just needed to know if the cat had thrown up lately and to confirm that I was still on schedule for production of her future grandchildren.

jolly good and all talked out at janeh928@yahoo.com

Smashing News

Billy Corgan just announced that he wants to reunite the Smashing Pumpkins, and I don't know whether to be excited or to cringe, because you never want your favorite all-time, love of your life band to decide to get back together, only to reincarnate as suck-ass-has-beens. And the fact that BC announced this by taking out a full page ad in the paper does not bode well for my fan-dom. Of course, I wasn't paying attention to details like that when the Pumpkins were around the first time. I wonder if they've published announcements like that before????
Billy, I will always be an original love, whether the new material lives up to expectations or not. (heehee)

sprinkle all my kisses on your head/ stars full of wishes fill our beds at janeh928@yahoo.com

Boom!

Ah, yesterday was a fun day in the world. I was all set to leave the office, bags gathered, kicky sunglasses applied to face, visions of a dip in the pool already swimming in my little head, when...
i got sent to cover the most ridiculous story. Apparently, this old man collects things from his apartment complex dumpsters to sell at flea markets and was carting around a collection of old explosives and a detonator in his van for two weeks. He says he didn't know what they were. Took them to the flea market yesterday, only to find out from another old fellow that he was carting around volatile explosives, DROVE THEM HOME, then called the police to come get rid of them.
So, the police depts, sheriff's depts of two counties, the bomb squad, called in from the other side of the metropolitan area, and bomb sniffing dogs are gathered across the complex, milling about aimlessly while ONE MAN SCOOPS UP THE EXPLOSIVES WITH A LITTLE SHOVEL.
And I'm there with my photographer and my notebook, when Steve "I Pee My Pants with Excitement for a Good Crime Story" Jefferson shows up, all-"what's happening? what's up? ooh, what's goin' down?!"
I point to the shovel scoop man, and suddenly things don't look so exciting anymore.
They declared the stuff stable, so we didn't even get to see them detonate it.
Three hours and we got nothin'.

got the sunburn without the workout at janeh928@yahoo.com

In Which I Cannot Open My Purse

It becomes completely apparent to me on occasion that I graduated from college through some fluke in the bookkeeping process, because I am in fact, a complete and utter moron.
This was confirmed on Sunday, when I attempted to attend the viewing service for one of my co-worker's fathers.
Beforehand, the Lumberjack and I went to a little cantina for we were starving and nothing is quite as delicious as salsa with cilantro to munch on when you're starving. Even though the waiters there always say something about my breasts in Spanish. (I CAN understand you!)
Anyway, comments about my rack aside, the meal ends with my inability to get the attention of any of the aforementioned waiters so that I may take leftovers home to my giant cat, Mike, so I slip a few grilled shrimp into my purse, wrapped in what I assumed was a perfectly legitimate transporting material, also known as tinfoil.
All was well until I realized I was running late, trucked it back to GirlCentral, threw on a dour black dress, and the worst shoes on the planet and hit the road in the MilleniumFalcon with only minutes to spare.
Pull up to the church--an ass-haul of an hour away--and, as I get into line with several other colleagues, decide a mint might be in order, open my purse and...
OMG! What is that smell?! Deadly fumes rise from the depths of my favorite handbag! Horrid stench of... forgotten packet of shrimp! Stupidest. Move. Ever.
Quickly and silently zipping up the purse, I do a scan of the crowd, hoping no one has noticed that I brought something that obviously smells like it crawled into my purse and died-- to a wake.
I fiercely hug the parcel to my chest... greet mourning co-worker, try to politely dodge office patter from some 2,000 others who attended, and make an escape to the bathroom at earliest possible convenience. Shrimp in garbage can with a quick prayer for unfortunate bathroom attendant of the next day.
My purse still smells. It sits on the corner of the balcony at GirlCentral, defiantly reminding me of my moronic nature every time I walk by.

advice on other items not to carry home leftovers in gladly accepted at janeh928@yahoo.com