From my fortune cookie today. I’m pretty excited because I have some plants in the works. Like… PLANS in all caps. Most of which I am not ready to divulge yet. But trust me, some of them are genius plans. I will share one with you, my halloween costume plans… there’s a party going on in Victoria. Costumes required. So we were all sitting around discussing what costumes Wil might consider wearing. He would not go as his and hers Zorros, much to my disappointment…. you get a sword! I mean, come on! But, what we’ve come up with is a repeat of my pregnant Catholic school girl costumes, which is a favorite of mine because I get to put my hair in pigtails and suck on lollipops. And Wil is going to be a priest. Maybe. He might change his mind. Even tho, I told him if he lost the white collar and added sunglasses, he could morph into johnny cash as the night progressed. But I think Pregnant Catholic School Girl and Priest is a good combo.

I’ve never had a costume combo before. That is to say, I’ve never even considered the pairing of costumes to make a theme. Yet another sign of Girlfriend Mushiness, I suppose. Awwwww….

Anyway, my second fortune, for I had two cookies, was “You are a person of imaginative, yet honest intentions.”

Uhh… ok. I guess so.

I’m trying out different allergy medicines, to find one that does not make me sleepy or dopey. Dopier. So far, not much luck. I almost got in an accident today. Not because of my driving, but because my reaction time to someone else’s dumb driving was slower.

I’m also wearing my tall shoes today. They make me wobbly on a good day. So…

experimental allergy medicine + tall shoes = bad idea #83

I made a mistake. I forgot about Thanksgiving. This is Thanksgiving weekend in Canada, the official day is Monday. It’s a long weekend.

First, I would like to say Happy Thanksgiving to all my Canadian friends. Even though I think Thanksgiving, this early in the year, feels weird. However, I would never turn down the opportunity for more pumpkin pie in life, so I fully embrace the differences in timing between our two days of thanks.

Second, to all of you Canadians and Americans who were trying to get on the ferries the same times I was…. I think I hate you. Just a little. I was unable to get on a ferry Friday night. I didn’t make a reservation, or try to make one, until I was getting ready to leave town. They were all booked. It was not looking good. On my way up, I had an idea and I pulled off the road to contact Wil. He was to take a bus to the ferries and meet me in Twassen. We were going to stay in a hotel and jump up and down on the bed and run around in our underpants and order room service.

For reasons that only he can explain, the bussing did not work well, and he missed the 7 pm ferry. This is why I do not take the bus. He left his house at 5:30, and did not make it to the mainland until 10:45. And who’s fault is that? The bus. Fucking bus.

The hotel we stayed at was comfy and had a nice bed, so it’s all good. But when we arrived at the ferry terminal on Saturday, a little after twelve, we had to wait for two sailings, until the 3pm boat. Two hours and 40 minutes – fun. When we were on the ferry, we stayed in the car and watched Dead Like Me season 2 episodes on my laptop. At one point, I looked up and saw a man poke his head out the door to the stairs. He looked around, and then gave the “all clear, come on” gesture to some people behind him. Three women in very large, very expensive sunglasses came thru the door.

“Hey… look at that.. that’s Fergie. That’s Fergie getting on that giant green tour bus.”

“What? No, hey look… it’s Hank from Corner Gas, he’s on this episode of Dead Like Me.”

“No, Seriously Wil… LOOK, it’s Fergie.”

“Look! it’s Hank!”

By the time I could convince him that there was something in Real Life he needed to look at, she was gone. But I insisted that it was her. Shortly after, some youngish boys in extra large pants came down, wandering around looking for something. Someone. For Fergie!! Wil said they could have been looking for their car. This debate went on for sometime, until we confirmed…. The Black Eyed Pea [avec Fergie] played Victoria last night. Just down the block from us, as a matter of fact. We could have given Fergie a ride to the venue.

I wonder if the Peas had to wait two hours and forty minutes to get on the ferry. I bet they had reservations. So, yeah… I saw Fergie on the ferry.

Were you born before the end of the first Gulf war?

Of course I was, I was born before the start. If you are referring to Desert Storm. I don’t know… I am sure there were other wars in the gulf.

Childhood nickname?

depends on who was talking to me. my friends often called me jo-jo or jo.

Historical person you have the biggest crush on?

George Washington, 6’8″ weights a fucking ton. [he’s saves children, but not the British children]

How about admire?

C.G.Jung… I’m not sure it’s admire so much as I find him interesting.

Favorite type of candy?

peanut butter twix

Favorite foreign country(ies)?

Canada. Of course, I’ve only been to Canada and Mexico. Sorry Tijuana… Canada wins.

Fish or chicken?

Chicken

Do you have your own perfume line?

nope.

Have you ever written a children’s book?

No, but when I was in college, I used to doodle this little girl I called Bethann, and her best friend Frank, and I wanted to write stories about them.

Have you been in a movie based on a book?

Hey, I let that crazy question about perfume pass, even tho it was a non-sequitor… but now you are getting random.

Ever posed nude for a photo?

yes. I was three.

Guiltiest pleasure?

sleeping in.

Your best nonguilty pleasure, then?

reading

What are you allergic to?

grass and mold

Worst pickup line you’ve heard?

Shut up, Slave. Ok? U like to finish?

Were you bar mitzvahed?

Nope, I’m a Unitarian

Have you ever cried during a TV interview?

Not that I recall.

If they made a movie of your life, who would play you?

Ah, that’s a tuff one. At what age is this movie set? I mean, that makes a difference. I don’t know, I’m open to suggestions.

Pet peeve?

Whistling.

If you weren’t doing what you do, what job would you like to have?

Either a writer or a dolphin psychologist.

Place you will never be found?

The gym.

Why did you participate in this tagging?

Normally, I don’t. But Blair asked me specifically, and nicely, and also I found I had no blog topic. I’ve been pretty dull the last few days, working, going home and straight into pajamas, chatting with Wil, going to bed, not a lot of material for blog. Oh sure, I could write all about cleaning, but really, cleaning is pretty dull. Although I should rub it in all of ya’lls faces… I did so clean! Ask Mrs. Moon. We even went to the dump!

I am cleaning. I just wanted all of you who doubted me to know that. I’ve been cleaning for about an hour. It sucks. I hate it. Mrs. Moon will be here in about an hour and when she gets here, she’s not going to let me have any fun. She’ll make me keep cleaning.

She’s so mean.

I've Then and Now'ed this song before, but did not know about this version. It's making me so happy today, I had to share it.

Mr. Moon was telling me the story of a 17 year old member of his extended family who is pregnant, and the daughter of a fundamentalist Christian. He feels bad for the girl, and the parents, because they have a tough road ahead of them. So does the baby. Anyway, in the course of our discussion, we’ve decided to create our own religion.

Mr Moon: so far, i’m the only kid in like 4 generations that hasn’t had a kid out of wedlock, so i’ve got that going for me

me: which is good. and only confirms my thoughts on fundamentalist christianity. anytime you make a fundamentally human thing, like love and sex, taboo, and don’t talk about it, and the repercussions and such…

Mr Moon: yes – it confirms my thoughts, too – but i still feel badly.

me: you are asking for trouble.

Mr Moon: absolutely agree with you

me: of course you do, cuz we are the brilliant.

Mr Moon: the brilliant – that should be our new religion

me: EXCELLENT! or at least our band name.

Mr Moon: um…hi, we’re The Brilliant and we were wondering if you’ve let denial and tabooism destroy your life of efficacious communication? if so, can you read our pamphlet?

me: oh, we SO need to make our pamphlet

Mr Moon: i am soooooooooooooo down with it

me: i’m so excited by our pamphlet

Mr Moon: the practitioners could be called “SHURPA”s, ‘cuz the world view would be a combination of Sarcasm, Humanitarianism, Unitarianism, Realism, Pragmatism, Absurdism, and Situationism

me: NICE!!!! this, truly is THE BRILLIANT

Mr Moon: yea, i like that.

Mr Moon: so the pamphlet should have some symbology – i’m not sure why, but humans crave symbology with their religions – so we gotta work on that – something like a Universe collapsing into a singularity and then the singularity exploding into a mass and how can you graphically display consciousness being a fluke?!?

me: ummm… clip art?

I don't know why. I have no reason to be. Except that I have four cases and I can't solve any of them, let alone recreate them. Bums me out, makes me feel stupid.
I tried to write a post about buying jeans last night, but it didn't work out. So I am going to make another attempt later, on the ferry. Right now, I am just trying to come to terms with the fact that the "day" has at least 3 hours and 30 minutes left in it.
I'm using this song to get thru it… best when played loud naturally.
The Killers – All These Things I've Done

Yesterday was a pretty good day. As a birthday present, my cousin Kirsten was given a gift certificate to the nekkid lady spa, by her husband. When we discussed this idea, I told him that I was concerned that Kirsten would be frightened, and disoriented, surrounded by all those naked ladies, at the spa for only the 2nd time in her life, all alone. And, if need be, I would sacrifice some of my time, and money, to accompany her. And so I did. Which is why I have babysoft skin right now. And toes that are painted “Double Decker Red.” I’m a giver.

The woman who did my scrub and moisturizing treatment was different than the other woman who have scrubbed and moisturized me. She had a different routine. Not better, just different. She seemed to go after my neck and décolletage area while I was lying on my side, bottom leg out stretched, top leg bent at the knee. Which means she’d lift my chin for me. Lying on my side like I was, I felt a bit like my cat, when I scratch her under her chin. I wondered if it would be appropriate to purr. I decided not. She was very vigorous with her scrubbing, and at times I wondered if the table legs, which were wooden, wouldn’t just snap and I would tumble naked to the wet, tiled floor, and wouldn’t that be hysterical because they’d probably feel really bad and give me some free treatments to make up for it. Probably massages – in case I was hurt.

For some reason I can’t fathom, I was very uncomfortable when she was working on my face. She did all these extra massagey, finger tappy things that none of the previous scrub technicians had performed. Every time she got near my eyes, it was all I could do not to flinch. When she started piling on the cold cucumber compress, I felt a bit panicky. Like I wasn’t going to be able to breath.[It reminded me of the time my Moür Moür wanted to make a plaster mask of my face. She wanted to put two straws in my nose, so I could breath, and then make a cast of the rest of my face. I wouldn’t let her, the idea just filled me with panic. She was annoyed with me, but annoyance has never swayed me once I have made up my mind.] And I was tempted to get up, and run out of the scrub area screaming “stay away from my eyes!!!” Don’t worry, I held it together. But she made me nervous somehow, I can’t describe it. It’s not like the cover your entire face with the stuff. And It’s not like I have not had it done before.

So it wasn’t my best trip to the nekkid lady spa. But, like sex and pizza, it’s pretty darn hard to have a bad one…. it’s still a trip to the spa, right?

I know that I appear to be a gal who has everything under control, who has a firm grasp on the situation. Who is on the ball. Who owns the fucking ball. I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, “Jodi, yes… this is exactly what you seem to be, although I doubt I would refer to you as a ‘gal’ because that is somehow demeaning and does not coincide with someone of your composure.”

Sadly, it’s untrue. Even I have cracks in my facade.

I have things in my life now that I have not had in a very long time. And that makes me happy. But, I haven’t had them in a really long time for a reason. So it also scares me. And brings me annoying moments of self doubt. During these moments, I play my least productive game. It’s the game where I look at some random stranger, and deduce in a matter of moments, how much better she is at everything. Better than me. God I hate it when I play this game.

Take the girl who is parked next to me on the ferry right now. [The ferry that does not have electrical outlets, btw. In case you were wondering. ] Something tells me that she does not wait until the end of the day to make up her face, in the visor mirror, in the dark. She doesn’t go about her work day looking tired and shiny. Her little red Honda is spotless, and I bet her house is as well. I bet she doesn’t have dishes piled up. And I am sure she would clean the littler box before leaving for the weekend, instead of considering out of sight cat poop out of mind cat poop. I bet she is not going through a period of professional crisis, which continues to build upon itself until she doubts she’ll ever be able to do her job well again. Her cube is probably clean, everyone likes her and thinks she’s amazing. She’s probably employee of the month right now.

I see no split ends in her hair in her perfectly coifed hair, which probably never dares to snarl and rat. And that cell phone that is attached to her ear most likely holds an extensive list of friends who clamor for her time each and every weekend. When she flosses her teeth, which she does each and every evening before bed, she probably never rinses with dr pepper. Speaking of rinsing, I bet she’s never had to change into her yoga pants, and wash the only pair of pants she has with her in the sink of the washroom at the ferry terminal, because she’s spilled some incredibly unhealthy food on them and stained them. And now they sit, damp, spread out, in the back seat to dry. She probably never eats unhealthy food.

On the other hand…. when she left her car, she put on The Club. The anti-theft device that attaches to your steering wheel. While her car is parked, surrounded by dozens of cars. On a ferry. In the middle of the ocean. With no possible escape for would be thieves.

At least I’m not a moron. And so, in the end, I win the game. Ha!