Monthly Archives: April 2005

books

One adorable little girl and a perfectly acceptable little boy…

Once upon a time there was a single Mom with two adorable children. Between the two, the little girl was definitely the more adorable, not to mention smart and witty. And very practical, for a five year old.

The single Mom met a Teacher, and they began dating. The Teacher was always over at the house, having dinner with the Mom and the two adorable children. At the end of the evening, the Teacher said his goodbyes, as he readied to return to his own home. The little girl thought this was silly. He was here all the freakin’ time. He even corrected her table manners! So she said, “Why don’t you just spend the night? My mom has a HUGE bed, there’s plenty of room.”

The single Mom looked away with a slightly embarrassed grin on her face. The Teacher’s grin was less embarrassed and he said that maybe one night, he would see if he could sleep over. Eventually, the single Mom and the Teacher got married. And the little girl was doomed to hear this story repeated over and over for the rest of her life.

The little girl grew up and the family lived happily every after. Until they got divorced. And the little girl decided that maybe marriage wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, and she had it right in the first place. It’s better just to invite boys to spend the night.

The End


ps: not that the little girl was ever sorry that her mom married the Teacher.

pps: the adorable little girl is currently doing her best to avoid a book review that is not going well.

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And now I find my Sunday is completely open….

This morning I woke up early, couldn’t go back to sleep. So eventually I gave up, got dressed and went out to run errands. I went down to “Babies R Us” to buy presents for my cousin Kirsten’s baby shower tomorrow. She’s having a boy. I was put into a coma that only the übercute can cause, I must have been in their an hour trying to find baby clothes that satisfied me all levels. It had to have that baby cuteness, something that would make people say “awwwww!” But it could not be so cutesy it made me gag. Couldn’t have too many cute critters on it. Couldn’t say something stupid like “Future Golfer.” Had to be soft. Preferably with stripes, because i love them so. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I wanted a pair of plain osh kosh overalls, hopefully the stripey kind. But no. And all the overalls I found had stuff all over them. I could have handled turtles, but when they also said “I love Mommie!” it made me cringe. But finally, I found some tiny baby stuff that I loved. Ummm. it had lions and it had giraffes and it had other animals and stripes. and it was blue. soooo cute! Widdle socks. Widdle hat. Lots of money.

So I came home super proud of myself for getting that present the day before, instead of the day of – my usual procedure. I worked on my review, I took some quizzes, I answered some email, and then I decided I deserved a nap. At 2:45 the phone rings and I hear my mom leaving me a message. Where am I? They thought I was coming to the shower? It started at two. The shower was today. And I had felt so ahead of the game, for once! So I threw on jeans that did not have a hole and took off. I decided the House of Skulls t-shirt was ok, because it was clean. By the time I got there, all the strawberries for the chocolate fondu were gone, but there was still pound cake. And pineapple.

In addition to having a baby, my cousin Kirsten is planning her wedding in October. Which may seem backwards, but we don’t care about things like that in my family. It just seems like so much… planning for a baby in June, planning for your wedding in October. More than I could handle. Kirsten is on the petite side, and has always worn high heels. Shoes I could never walk in. Her feet are permanently on tippy toe, like a Barbie doll. But today, 7 months pregnant, she was in flats. Which is so strange to see.

Kirsten: I could have handled the heels, it’s just that I am so hot lately, I couldn’t bear to put on shoes, so I went with flip-flops.

My mom Pattie: It’s ok, Kirsten, you don’t need the fuck-me pumps anymore.

Jodi: bwwhahahahaa! My mom said fuck-me pumps!! She’s been watching too much Sex in the City.

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books

Yeah, snarky, you know, from the ancient Greek, meaning butt head.

I told myself that I could go hang out in Barnes and Noble, when I finished my review of “Down on Ponce” for Satan’s Bookclub. But instead I am taking personality tests that I got from Suzy. By the way, “hanging out in Barnes and Noble” is code for “grabbing a large stack of books, sitting in one of the comfy chairs, browsing through them and leaving, after buying some or all of them.” I am having trouble with my review because a: I’ve never written one and it is not coming naturally to me and b: “Down on Ponce” is really hard to sum up and/or describe. What will most likely happen is, I will work on the review, but not finish, and go to Barnes and Noble anyway. Because I’m weak. And spoiled. And lacking in discipline. And a bunch of other fun things….

Your Inner European is Dutch!



Open minded and tolerant. You’re up for just about anything.

Who’s Your Inner European?

You Are a Snarky Blogger!



You’ve got a razor sharp wit that bloggers are secretly scared of.

And that’s why they read your posts as often as they can!

What kind of blogger are you?

Seriously? Are bloggers scared of me? That’s awesome. Grrrrr

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evildeb, tshirts, work

superfunkycalifragisexy

I was listening to Prince on the way to, and from, work. Which makes me want to unpack those boxes of cd’s and find some funk.

You know, I’m not really #6 for “good spanking.” If you follow the search link, it would definitely appear that I was. But a fresh google shows that I am not. I don’t know what I was thinking. How on earth could I be #6? With all the spanking websites out there? Ridiculous. Yes, sure, I’m a little bit disappointed… but hey, people find me by looking up “boobies” as well. And that’s something. Hardly surprising considering what I was talking about, when I first started this blog. Hooray for boobies!!*

I was in training all day again today. It was pretty interesting. I’m not going to bother telling you what it was a about. Technical stuff. I was late to work. I thought training started at 8:30, but no… started at 9. So, officially, I was ok. Mostly, during training, I was a smart ass. Mostly. It’s my job. Someone has to be the comic relief. And I just can’t help it! It’s a compulsion. People expect it of me. There is just so many things that need commenting on, you know? Luckily, the trainer seemed to appreciate the irreverent humor of my team. Not that it would have stopped us, if he had not. So immature.

It’s a beautiful day here, in the low 70’s. Which freaks Evildeb the hell out, because she is not outside. Despite the fact that she suffers from the SAD, really nice sunny days only seem to piss her off and make her crabby. I knew that whole SAD thing was a hoax. [Look Deb, it’s sunny out, it’s going to be 74 degrees, you have NO RIGHT to be pissy!!] We had pizza for lunch, out in the courtyard. It was lovely. And an ice cream man drove down the street between the waterfront and plaza buildings. Which is an excellent sign of good things to come. I would have worn the short pants, but I nicked myself shaving. Bad. Like, a quarter size nick. And it would not quit bleeding. In fact, I passed out due to blood loss. That’s why I was sorta late to work.

My grandmother is currently dying, or going through the slow process of dying. She’s 90, and has many health problems. She’s deteriorated a great deal, since my granddad died. Right now, she has pneumonia, on top of her emphysema, her lungs are filling up with fluid, and she is getting less and less oxygen. She’s too weak to cough. She is semi-lucid, but can’t use her right hand, or control her bodily functions, but is eating. Every hour she gets a tiny bit worse. II’m getting a couple of updates a day, and it seems like I am just waiting to hear she has passed. It leaves me with a sick feeling in my stomach. I so want her to go peacefully. This doesn’t sound peaceful to me. My uncle says she is aware of what is going on, that she is in the hospital, what is happening with her lungs. I imagine she knows she is dying. I wonder if she welcomes it, if she’s impatient to get it over with. Her husband and her youngest son passed on before her, I imagine she wants to join them. In that country club in the sky. I have to admit, I wish she could sleep peacefully, she’s not able to rest right now, because of the coughing and fluid in her lungs. I wish she could sink in to a deep restful sleep and let go. I don’t want her to live like this. Nobody should have to live like this. So I have that weird feeling, the one where I know I can’t really plan anything over the next week, because I might be going to Arizona any day. But… I had that same situation/feeling with Granddad, and he hung on for months.

Phase One of the big project at work is completed. Months and months of planning and work, done. And I’ve decided that I have not spent enough time in Barnes and Noble lately. Grabbing a big pile of books, and sitting in a comfy chair to browse through them. So that is definitely a plan for the weekend. I deserve books. Phase Two of the big project is now to begin. I call that the cleaning up phase. Busy, but not like Phase One.

*Don’t forget, you too can have your own “Hooray for Boobies!” t-shirt. Never in my life have I had more comments on anything I wear. Girls love it, guys love it, cats, dogs, bunnies and squirrels love it too!

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50 Word Fictions

50 Word Fiction Vol. III

Death of a Salesman
ìHey, man, I guess we are playing phone tag. I got your email, so did everyone else since you ccíd almost the entire company. Ha-ha-ha! Not necessary, guy, I am your main contact here, just shoot me a …î
*BANG!*
*FWUMP*
ìWhat? he said to shoot him! So I did!î

This week’s challenge is to include some aspect of the sales industry. The nice thing about making up the challenge is I can write what I want, and then issue a challenge I’ve already met! Next week, someone else can issue the challenge first, if you like. We’ll talk about that next week.

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A very proud moment…

I like to look at my webstats, particularly the referrals. And search words. It’s like having a collection of something. I just like to take them out and look at them. Because a certain phrase came up three times in one week, I followed the google link to see how I ranked. And I can now tell you that if you do a search for the phrase “good spanking” I am number six.

WHOO-HOO!! Number six! Looking to be number one!!

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If heaven exists, it’s cheese toast.

Arifa asked me an interesting question, after visiting Satan’s Bookclub. Since I don’t really believe in hell, do I believe in heaven?


Arifa: do you believe in heaven? because i was thinking about how you don’t believe in hell…

Jodi: i believe in an afterlife of some kind. but not a christian heaven. per se. what about you?

Arifa i believe in cheese toast which i am having now

Jodi: oh my god! THAT IS HEAVEN! HEAVEN EXISTS!

I never really think about whether or not I believe in heaven. But I guess, if you are looking at a Judeo-Christian definition of heaven, I don’t. It’s such a good story though! Heaven and hell, the war of angels, Lucifer’s fall from grace, which took seven days, I believe. It’s an epically good story! But…

Jodi: it’s like, what is good and what is evil? you know what good and evil are? they are constructs of man. if there is a higher place of existence, it probably does not anything to do with good and evil. whoa. i got kinda deep.

The more I think about quantum physics, which i do on a regular basis, the less I believe in heaven and hell. The more I try to conceptualize being made up of atoms, the less I believe the definition of God that Christianity, Judaism and Islam have come up with. When the reality of our existence is so much more amazing than what they gave us in their holy books. For as long as I can remember, even as a young child, I would stop and think about my birth, the fact that I existed. Once I understood how babies were made, I realized how very amazing it was that I was me, and not someone else. With all those sperm fighting for that egg, I won the lottery of existence. It could have very well been a different sperm that made it there first and POOF, I would not be here. I could trip on these thoughts for hours. Or I would lay on the ground and look up at the night sky. I’d picture myself there, lying on the grass, in relation to my neighborhood, to my town, to my state, and so on until I was attempting to relate myself to the universe at large. And it would freak me out.. what a damn miracle it was. What a terribly unlikely, mathematically impossible miracle it was, that our galaxy existed in this universe of galaxies, that our planet existed among all these other planet with no apparent life on them, how on this planet, there lived a girl in some state – some city, who existed only because one out of hundreds of millions of sperm made it to the egg first.

Which may be why I never took drugs, growing up.

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I want to eat your face. It could just be so yummy. I’d like to have your face, in my tummy.

I was in training all day, I did not spend a single minute at my desk. During one of the breaks, KK and I were walking across the street from the plaza building to the waterfront building. We were on the sidewalk, next to a giant dumpster, that has a long chute stretched up to the 2nd floor. They are doing construction up there. In her hand, she held one of the coveted Lemon Bars from upstairs. These things are very very good. I was about tell her about the Lemon Bar addiction that Louise and I went through, for about three weeks, when all of the sudden a heard of joggers came towards us. About twelve young men, all in very good shape, the majority of them with no shirt on, surrounded us and jogged past.
"Oh those lemon bars are… are… lemon and the … yummy…goodness….uh…. oh my!"
*giggle*
“When you tell this story, be sure to mention how most of them had their shirts off.”
“Oh, I will.”

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Amelia

What Would Amelia Do?

I really did not want to go to ball class today. It’s so hard! I hate working hard. Sure, the balls are bouncy and fun. But we don’t get to bounce up and down on them very much. We do things with them that hurt. Maybe not today, but tomorrow they will. But, my very own ball was due to arrive today, and I needed to pay for it. And, ball class is kinda fun, except for the whole working hard part. So I asked Amelia what to do. I do that occasionally now that I look at her every day.

“why would you even ask me that? Of course you should go to ball class!”

Amelia is not lazy like me. She’s a risk taker and an adventurer. And you know, she has excellent bone structure. Very striking woman. She, too, is not impressed with the monkee. And this morning, when the he was upset, and damn near yelling, she rolled her eyes.

“What a slimey little toad.”

Sometimes, she mimics him back to me, and I have to concentrate on not laughing.

“Hey guy… shoot me an email. I’ll tell you what, I’d like to shoot him, but not with an email. Is this what men of your time are like? Hand me the phone, hold it up to me, I want to call this guy up and explain to him what real men are like”

Oh, Amelia, you’re so bad.

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my sidebar fell down to the bottom!

and i don’t know why!

EDITED TO ADD:
you know what it was? It was that evil test down below… the one that tells me what a lazy, snacky, sloppy, romantic, paranoid, needy, mystical, rebellious, avoidant, immature, albeit intelligent and artistic, slut I am. with it’s sneaky “div” tages in the results!

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