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My Job Does Not Define Me

Please, God, let not my current employment define me. May my legacy be that I loved my children and sacrificed my own desires for their best interests. Let it be said that I was a good woman from the top of my head to the tips of my toes and that my brain was in good working order and that I brought a smile to the face of those who surrounded me.

In the meantime, let's laugh at what I do to make a little money. I have had some cracker-jack calls lately and I couldn't be more entertained and I thought some of you in the audience might find them amusing as well. (I'm pretending I'm Lawerence Welk and I'm hosting my own show right now--get it?)

This was a call in response to an infomercial for B@reEssenti@ls Make Up:
Jenny: Thank you for calling about this special offer from B.E. Make Up. To get started, may I have your zip code please?
Caller: IS THIS GLUTEN FREE?!?
Jenny: Ummmm...Ma'am, this is make-up, you don't ingest it.
Caller: IS IT GLUTEN FREE?!? I WANNA KNOW!
Jenny: Let me check. Let me read to you the ingredients list. [reads list] So, no ma'am, no gluten.
Caller: BUT DOES IT SAY "GLUTEN FREE?" IT'S VERY IMPORTANT! IT'S USED AS A PRESERVATIVE IN EVERYTHING! IF IT DOESN'T SAY IT IT COULD BE VERY DANGEROUS FOR ME!
Jenny: Well, all I can say is that gluten is not listed as an ingredient.
Caller: CAN YOU ASK THE CHEMIST? IS HE THERE?
Jenny: Ya, no, he's on break. [me having fun now. WHAKO!]
Caller: WELL! I NEED TO KNOW AND YOU SAY HE'S ON BREAK! *click*

You would think with this crazy job that I would get a lot of sickos, but I really don't. This is about as close as it gets and while it creeps me out, it's more funny than creepy.
Male Caller: You sound sebenteen!
Jenny: Great, can I get your zip code?
Caller: You got the voice of a MOVIE STAR!
Jenny: Okay, an your zip code, please?
Caller: I'm SIXTY SEBEN, but I feel twenty! You sound 17! Where are you?
Jenny: Alaska.

I'd really had it with the southern accent idiots by this time (not that I'm prejudice against ALL southern accents, it's just that there are a lot of idiots out there and then when you add the hick-factor, it's just too much to take.)
Jenny: I'm so glad you called today to learn a new language with R.S. To get started, may I have your name please?
Caller: Kim.
Jenny: Thank you, Kim. And your last name?
Caller: Whar are you located?
Jenny: Arizona.
Caller: Okay. I just didn't want to talk to anyone in the Philippines or Sand Land.
Jenny: Oh, really? Why is that? [hick alert! this is gonna be golden!]
Caller: Are you an American citizen?
Jenny: Yes! Yes, I am!
Caller: And you don't have a problem with them people flyin' into buildings? Nevermind. *click*

I also love it when people ask for the language Mexican. When I ask if they're interested in Latin American Spanish or Spanish spoken in Spain, they clearly re-state their original request: Mexican.

One more product I have to mention because it was so awesome and now it's gone. I had to spend an hour on a webinar being trained for Everly Portr@its. Google it, it's awesome. For attending the webinar I "won" a FREE portrait! I was allowed to send in any picture or pictures and studio artists would recreate a beautiful oil painting. I was jumping up and down with excitement because I knew right away that I would send a picture of Emily. And a picture of Michael Hill, our old family reTARD. And a picture of Gertie, our old family dog. And these magical studio artists would create a 11 x 17 masterpiece for me to hang over the mantle. Bliss and then devastation. They folded. DAMNIT! Why, God, WHY!?!?

I also love our Wednesday conference call team meetings where my "coach" yells at us like Mike Foley the motivational speaker and yells, "PEOPLE! You have to read the script! It's your job! Read the script, ask the probing questions to find the hot button, and then rebuttal with the hot buttons! IT'S YOUR JOB!"

So, for now, when the phone rings during a shift, I hope for a sale or an entertaining call. And when it doesn't ring during my shift, I blog or facebook. I can complain a little because it's a dumb job, but I can't quit because it's just so easy to take their money whilst I sit in pajamas or empty the dishwasher. So, for 5-15 hours a week, it's my job, people.

Teeny-Tiny Apartment MJ Tribute

dontstoptileverythingisunpacked from emily lamigraw on Vimeo.

News From Down the Street

I'm back from Chicago and we moved down the street. I'll post an update once I have have extra time that is currently being occupied by preventing a panic attack when I can't find my tweezers in this mess. My two sisters will understand this. We have aggressive hair growth. I predict 3 more days and I'll only have one eyebrow.

Chicago! (No Secrets)

My sketch comedy group, The Sixth Borough, is going to Chicago this weekend for some shows! I wrote, directed and co-starred in this video about our trip.

Chicago! (No Secrets) from 6th Borough Comedy on Vimeo.

I could do better, but...

Oooo! Ooooo! I thought of something that is:
a) not about my kids
b) not about my mom
c) (you should really have 3 items in a list, but I can't think of (c).)

So, I am part of this group at church where people are invited to go through @ndy St@nley's St@rting Point series for the next ten weeks. It's really great material (in my opinion) and something that I'm really excited to be a part of. And scared.

So, on the first day, we're introducing each other and going around the room and people are supposed to offer some general info about themselves and then answer the question in the book about whether you're at a starting point, a turning point or a returning point. Of course, it is implied that this question relates to your spiritual disposition. There are about seven people in the room and we start around the room and get to Kim.

Now, flashback ten minutes and see me trying to be friendly and welcoming. Casually working the room, if you will. There's a general milling about happening as people come in and write their name on an overly-sticky name tag that sticks to everything but their shirt and is hardly legible anyway. Kim immediately b-lines for a chair and plops down and sets her bag on her lap. She's about 50 years old. She breathes loudly. She fidgets a lot. Five minutes into the session, as I try oh-so-hard to give my undivided attention to the person currently giving their introductory remarks, I've had it with Kim. She is freaking red-flagged in my book.

Now, it's Kim's turn. She shares how she's always been a Christian, in fact, she is more than just a Christian (???). She says she only listens to praise and worship music. It's her favorite thing to do. She also only watch Joel Olsteen. She said she likes to watch the same one over and over because he's just that good. She also likened herself, nay, claimed to actually channel if not be Monica from Touched by an Angel. Furthermore, when people come to her with their problems, she asks herself, "What would Monica say?" And then she tells them. She says she's very gifted that way. When answering the question about where she considers herself on the Starting Point spectrum, she said that she's definitely at a returning point--because she just moved here from Florida. When answering the question about one question you would ask God, she says that she only listens to praise and worship music (???).

Hells bells! I am sitting here this whole time thinking, "This is not happening. This is so not happening." What's not happening, Jenny? "This is so not happening that I don't have some sort of recording device to capture this moment!"

During the rest of our one hour together, Kim got up abruptly and left the room no less than THREE times to use the bathroom! Each time it was very chaotic. She also started packing up her stuff near, though not at the end, while someone else was spilling their guts.

So, call me mean. Call me judgmental. Call me ugly. But, bitch, please! It was a crazy day!

This concludes attempt #2 to contribute to this blog.

Amen.

Race relations in 2009

I have a story for you about race relations. A couple months ago, Micah and I were at a TJ Maxx-type store in a pretty exclusively black neighborhood. It was Sunday and the other shoppers in the store were dressed up in church clothes. Most of the women were wearing all white dresses and giant white hats. The men were wearing really awesome, colorful suits with crazy looking shoes. The music pumped into the store was black gospel. The home aisle was mostly black angel figurines. We might have both felt a little uncomfortable and out of place, but weren't talking about it. I picked out two hanging baskets for plants and we took them to the register to pay. We brought our own shopping bags, and after the lady at the register rung us up, we were putting the baskets in our bags when we heard, in the whitest, most high-pitched-valley-girl-woman voice, "Oh my gosh you guys! Thank you so much for recycling! It is seriously soooo important!" Micah and I both snapped our heads up to see who was talking. When we saw that it was a black woman in her 30s and not my sister Jenny with that voice, we both started laughing nervously. I really awkwardly said, "It's easy if you remember!" and we left the store.

Sometime I may tell you about how, a couple of weeks ago, I was walking and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a black man charging at me. I thought it was a crazy person who was going to stab me. I started screaming as I was sure I was about to die. I looked up at the man as he was holding onto me. He was old and looked terrified. "I slipped! I have a bum knee!". Then, we hugged for like a minute and a half and held each other's hands and apologized to each other over and over. He said, "You don't be afraid of black people and I won't be afraid of white people." "Deal!" I said. A man on his smoke break was standing off to the side said, "Google Earth just saw that whole thing." It was weird and kind of nice if you like hugging strangers, which I do.

Can't. Put. No. Thoughts. Together.

Normal Mom/Anyone Conversation:
Mom: Hi Jen. I gotta go, but what's the name of that free apartment program?
Me: Apartment Life?
Mom: Yes! Okay, I'll google it. I gotta dump Daniel and then I have to get to my doctor's appointment. My eye has some sort of bell's palsy and it's in the eye I had that cataract removed. So let me call you later.
Me: Okay. Bye.

New Thought:
I saw "New in Town" and I'm sorry, but I liked it. It reminded me of what living in Michigan was like.

Yet, another random thought:
Nope. It's gone.

Found it! You know when people say things like "The proverbial ball and chain" and other "proverbial" things like that? I don't know how I've missed this all this time, but it comes from "a proverb" like a story or a cautionary tale with symbolic or representative situations. I just have never seen it written out. Just always heard it used as a reference; proverbial [blank], as they say. I'm dumb.

Acupuncture and Me:
I had this done last week and the next day I felt like a truck hit me. Hungoverish. I must be harboring a lot of toxins in my body, because I just can't shake this feeling. I'm not waking up refreshed. I'm all broken out on my neck. I feel lethargic. Everything is too hard. Not right. Too far. I'm going back this week to get it fixed. I'll have to dial her number and consider dates and times. This is too complicated.

Nick:
He keeps using phrases like, "I suppose..." and "Consider this..." It's disconcerting and humorous. Also, Night-time Pull-Ups are of the devil and I advise all to steer clear. I think we've rounded the bend and he'll continue to stay dry at night, but FIVE AND A HALF, PEOPLE, IS JUST TOO OLD TO BE DEALING WITH THIS!

Kendall:
She's finally grown a pair and it's a great discovery. I heard her say very strongly, "NO Natalie." in some situation where Natalie was trying to get her to do something against what Kendall knew was right. Also, it turns out she's a competitor. She keeps winning first and second at the swim meets and checking to see if she did better than Natalie. Who knew?

Natalie:
She had an attention evaluation the other day and it was interesting to say the least. We meet with the doctor via Skype tomorrow. He asked me if she's ever had an IQ test. I'm shaking in my boots. Stay tuned for further developments. Pins and needles, right?

Scott:
He's nice. He's in a sucky place in his mind/body/spirit, but he's still the one that I want, oo, oo, ooooo (think Grease). He made artichokes steamed with five lemons and made a garlic/basil dipping sauce and a curry dipping sauce. He also ran water lines to my plants that I was hand watering. See? He's nice. It's Father's Day and I'm a terrible gift-giver, but I'd like to get him something nice. I'll think about that tomorrow.

Tangent:
Gazpacho. It needs to happen.

Skin:
It's really cool the way it replaces itself with the same color and texture without getting confused and how it's waterproof and stuff. It's cool.

In Conclusion;
I bet you wish I would have stayed underground. I think I left myself in 2004. Now, where did I leave the keys to my time-travel-machine?

Scrappy Emily

While we wait for Jenny's triumphant return as a Wink, here are some things I found written in my handwriting on pieces of notebooks, bills and envelopes. I need to start remembering to write down what they mean and/or why they are funny or important.

* Ching Chong pictures
* Linen White
* wall mounted beer opener (I think that means I need that, which I do.)
* Pizza Through Time
* Pizza: Put a piece of pizza in your mouth
* If you find a watch on the ground, you don't assume it just appeared, it has too many intricate parts. (I'm trying to write a sketch about evolution.)
* Dear Linda, Hope this is the only Diarrhea on your birthday. (Oh yeah, that's going to be good.)
* 19th Am. 9-9:30
* T. 30th pm
* Pizza Live!

I think I figured them all out. OK, Jenny, go ahead.

STOOOOOOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!

UNCLE!!!!!!!!!!! MERCY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You guys are really hurting my feelers! You're crapping all over our sweet, pretty little blog. Our little time capsule of the story of our lives. The only reason I haven't blogged is because Emily said to me one day about my last blog posting, "No, really, I love mommy-blogs." People! I don't have anything else! My kids crack me up and I'm with them all the effing time! I honestly have nothing else to say. It's sad, pathetic, irresponsible, mundane, boring, plain, vanilla, but it's where I am and I'm actually not very unhappy. Mostly. It's not funny to share the shitty stuff, anyway. It's more fun to write about funny. Not shitty. Well, sometimes shitty IS funny, but then it's easy to write about because it becomes funny.

So, there. Please let me back in. Please restore the blog to it's former Winky-ness. Please don't oust me. I was wrong to leave. I was wrong to cheat on you. You're all I ever want and more.

Your BIG sister,
Dead Face.

New blog title?

Hey Hashifa, do you think, now that Jenny doesn't blog here anymore we should change the name? Maybe, "Jenny Smells", or "Jenny is a Butthole", or "Jenny is a Terrible Dancer"? Let me know.

Dowadittydittydumdittydo--Watch me dance my ass off!

Praise Band: The Movie

Watch and you won't be sorry. Or, you will be so sorry that you will be absolutely delighted.

Micah says something weird. Again.

Today, Micah and I were shopping at Ikea. We were about to the "As Is" section when he said, "Ikea is so cool. It's so Blade Runner". Then I said, "What? Oh, nevermind". Then at my insistence, we went to a bar for margaritas, because I have reconnected with Tequila recently.

happy birthday hashifa vachoo

oos froodoom oos oo brookfoostfood
oor trooth coon loove wooth rooght oond wroong
oor moolhoolls oore froom moountains moode
-loong oonoough oond joost soo loong
wooll booing pooing thoo roont oof soom
oond goonoos ploose thoo toolootgoog
oond wootoor moost ooncoorooge floome

oos hootroocks oonto poochtroos groow
oor hoopes doonce boost oon boold moon's hooir
oond ooveroo foongeroo oos oo tooe
oond oonoo coorooge oos oo foor
-loong oonoough oond joost soo loong
wooll thoo oompoore thoonk ooll thoongs poore
oond hoonoots woil boo chooldroon stoong

oor oos thoo sooing oore thoo bloond
oond rooboons noovoo woolcoome sproong
noo flootfook prove thoor woold oos roond
nor doongstoos doo oot brook oof doong
oond coommoon's roore oond moollstoones floot
-loong oonoough oond joost soo loong
tomoowoo wooll noot boo too loote

wooms oore thoo woods boot joo's thoo vooce
doon shooll goo whooch oond oop coome who
broosts wooll boo broosts oond thooghs wooll boo thooghs
doods coonnoot droom whoot drooms coon doo
-toome oos oo troo (thoos loofe oone loof)
boot loove oos thoo skoo oond oo oom foo you
joost soo loong oond loong oonoough

Big Geoff gets punched in the balls

My friend Geoff (pronounced "G"-Off) was minding his own business, walking around downtown last week, when some teens punched him in the balls and ran away. Then, the ball punchers got in a car and drove away. Geoff said, "Everyone seems to be getting a big chuckle out of that story lately". It's true, Big Geoff, that is a funny story.

Konverzation Witz Moom

EMILY: Hi Mom, this is Emily.

MOM: Hi Emily. I can't talk...

EMILY: OK, bye. I'll call you later.

MOM: I have to pick up my Kenya-guy!

EMILY: OK, I'll let you go.

MOM: I have to take my Kenya-guy from church to the DMV!

EMILY: Bye!

MOM: I have to sit at the DMV all day waiting for my Kenya-guy!

EMILY: Bye!

MOM: Bye!

THE END

Mom, if you are reading this, I hope you had an OK time at the DMV.

Hello internet this is Emily

Hey! It's summertime! Let's reflect on the winter. These are just some photos some of you may be interested in. I may blog more. We are moving to a very small apartment. I'll show you pictures as they become available. I've been sleep eating again. Jenny is no longer my legal sister--I got a lawyer and took care of that. The first picture is from January in AZ, the others are from February, I think.

I got to meet this guy! I really like him. We developed a nice rapport.

BL & AH select a cocktail. Then they explained the ingredients to our confused server. ONLY IN NEW YORK! HAHAHAHAHA! Not really.

This is either before or after I got a bit tipseroosy and told Andrew all about how I paid for my shirt with cash.

I have dreams of becoming a nice lady like one of these.

I have ideas, people!

A & A H

Outside the Natural History Musem deciding where to go. You should always defer to Spain.

Look at these dudes!

Man that was fun.

What's going on here?

The Inevitable Dear John Letter

Dear www.threewinks.blogspot.com

I'm writing you today to say, I'm sorry, things just aren't working out between us. I know you've probably been wondering where I've been. Am I okay? What have I been doing? Why I don't hang around here anymore? Well. I met someone. You probably already guessed this. I mean, it's only natural. And, really, I mean this, it's not you--it's me! I just need more (of me)! I need more feedback (about me). I need to laugh more often (about you). I need a place where I'm heard. The bloom has faded with you. I just don't feel like I contribute anymore! We've drifted. People change. I fell for a newer model where I'm accepted for my short quips and my snarky scarcasm and not the lengthy and frequent demands that this relationship requires. I can't get enough this new thing. I've always had addictive tendencies and this is no different. I'm sorry.

Of course, I want us to be Friends! We have too much history to just walk away for good. Let's get together every once in a while. I'll still check in on you! And, please, stop by and visit. You're welcome anytime. Drop me a line! I'd love to hear from you.

Here's where you can find me. Don't be a stranger!

Diarrhea!

Diarrhea: A Look Behind the Star from 6th Borough Comedy on Vimeo.

Feeding the beast within

I have always been interested in the lives of others. When we would complain about our nuanced home-life to our mother, she would tell us that every family was like ours, we just didn't realize it. So began my extreme curiosity into projected, actual and hidden lives. Which is why I like to read the blogs of strangers so much.

Basically, I just want to end the sad lull of this blog and share with you an image that I found today on a mommy blog that I couldn't stop staring at.

It ought to be pointed out that the poster of this image was the mother of one or both of these unhappy children and she thought this was hilarious and cute. I find this image a bit macabre and well, really fucking weird.

I have something to say

Click Somewhere Else if You're Tired of Stories About My Children

Sorry, but my kids are sooooo entertaining! They make me laugh ALL the time. (They also make me scream, too, but that's not fun to read about. YIKES!)

I've been experiencing some "push-back" from Nick lately that's been quite frustrating. He's testing his powers of negotiation and resistance and it's draining! Why can't he understand the laws of physics specifically state that the energy expended to bring Legos, magnetic building blocks , dinosaurs and Hotwheels downstairs is directly equal to the energy it requires to pick them up and carry them back upstairs? Daily battle. Daily. Yesterday, halfway back from our walk from the park, he sat down on the sidewalk and said he was too tired to go on. Nisht gut! He then went on to throw a full blown, stage five tantrum all the way home, biting me, kicking me, slapping me. Highly embarrassing, frustrating and exhausting. I can't work with this!

He just woke up for the new day. I was listening in on a phone conference and had my phone muted and on speakerphone. He told me, "That's ANNOYING me" which is funny from a barely-five-year-old no matter how you slice it. I said my good mornings to him (my phone was muted and these phone conferences are highly repetitious and boring) and he had a Lego helicopter in his hand, ready to play. I said, "Nick, are we going to have a better day today?" I wish you could see his little shirtless body, his terrible buzzed head and his big, full of expression face. He put his hand on his hip, looked at his tummy (because he has personified his tummy and it is his imaginary friend)and said in a stage whisper to his tummy, "Tummy? Are we going to have a good day today?" And Tummy answered in his own "voice," "Ya, if we go to the park or something." Then Nick looked at me with a "we'll see" expression and shrug and kindly restated his tummy's response as if I need a translation.

Kendall for President

Here is what my sweet second grader wrote on a recent little writing project entitled, "If I were President..."

If I were president I would find all the stray dogs and clean them. I would help families that don't have food and give them food. I would help kids that don't have parents and take them to the White House and give them toys. Now I told you what I would do if i were president.

She was born this way--caring for others and stuff. I seriously need to pay attention to this girl. She's a significant addition to this world.

Just kill me now

Here's what I found written out on a piece of paper while I was rearranging Natalie's clothes drawers:
Reasons Why I Hate Jenny
1) She's always telling me stuff but then she does them.
2) She's just a plain brat.
3) She tries to help you but you don't want help.
4) You try to tell her something but then she comes up with this lame comeback
5) She's such a tattle tale. She tells my dad.
6) She thinks she knows what I feel like as a 10 year old but she actually had a fun mom, so...
7) Every time I try to have fun with her she always finds out some way to wreck it.
8) She thinks I'm her pet and she gets to do whatever she wants to do with me and one way or the other she'll get it.
9) She makes you do homework after school that's not necessary.
10) When I ask her a question she always finds out one way to avoid answering it.
11) She always on family fun ruins it with either "replacing" it with a book, saying in her mind it's too fun and stuff like that.
12) She's such a drama queen.
Note: Don't ever try to sass her

Now. Let me start out by saying I tried to be all butt-hurt about this and tell myself that she's a stinker and that those are all exaggerations and not really true. But what bothered me more, was that I know I would have claimed most of those things on her list as MY list for MY mom and that made me even more sad; I'm not like my mom! But, then, as I re-read the list, I had to admit that if each one wasn't directly true, it was indirectly true and based in truth and the sadness didn't lie in that she wrote it, but in that it was truth and her reality and probably a lot of people's reality with me.

So, after I performed what my friend Kelly coined a "self-ectomy," I decided to be thankful to discover such a brutal list now and talked to Natalie and told her that I was sorry that I do that stuff and that I wanted to do better. She was sweet and embarrassed and told me she doesn't really think that stuff all the time. She said I'm a good mommy. When I asked her if I could keep the list to remind me to keep trying, she said she didn't want me to keep it, but that she would give it to me after she changed one thing. I thought it might be #13 about how I'd been punk'd and she didn't mean any of it. But...she modified the title of the list: Things Jenny Could Improve On. Noted.

So I guess I'm charged with quite a project of self-improvement. I write it here for public accountability so that in our family therapy sessions in the next 8-10 years I have no excuses or "lame comebacks" about how I didn't know that that was how she perceived me.

I really need a do over.

Send Someone to Hold Me

Although some of you may claim Emily as your friend, former lover, co-worker, , I and Hashifa Vachoo claim her as our ever-loving sister. This, my friends, is just a pinky-finger's worth of her talent and wonderfulness.

Please, be respectful and set aside enough time to listen to this. It's the weekend, so you have the time. It is eight, glorious minutes. Maybe you have something depressing to do, like pay bills or fold laundry; just play this little diddy and laugh your way through your chores.

She wrote it. She performed it. She recorded it.

You're welcome.

My body is a port-a-potty

If I didn't mind strangers touching me, I would get a massage. The Arizona trip was fun, but entertaining all of those people is taxing! Rolling down grassy hills until I thought I would barf, dancing wildly on tables at bars, dancing wildly on stages at bars, covert operations to escape the evil clutches of "Captain Beard" (AKA Uncle Micah) and then of course drinking enough beer to calm my nerves when the entire family was in one house and there was a giant t.v. blaring. I'm pooped. On top of all of that, on Sunday I was in a video for another comedy group which required a pratfall. I was offered cushions to break my fall. This irritated me and I snottily replied, "Um, I think I know how to do this". Well, I may have used to know how, but I must have forgotten, because I have some lovely black bruises on both of my knees and a sore hip. And that is why I feel like a portable toilet.

I will post some pictures of the trip later. For now, I can only be bothered to complain.

You had to be there

It was spectacular. She weighs only 98 pounds people! And she can drink 6 beers without any effect. BTW, contrary to HV's accusation, I do not drink excessively. I do not have a problem with alcohol. We were all just having fun of our own making. But for reals, Emily has some kind of serious alcohol tolerance genetic disposition! This is a place where you sing along with the musicians. It's a more anonymous version of karoake. It's really fun. Emily went up on stage and as you can see, she took center stage. See if you can identify all of her moves; toe touching, jumping jacks, the tree pose and a final salute. Unfortunately, this really doesn't capture all the magic. But imagine...

S.O.S.: Scared Of Something in my kitchen which is probably a mouse

I am not afraid of bugs. Spiders, cockroaches, they don't bother me. What I am afraid of is mice. I'm working at home in the living room. I got up a half-hour ago to go to the bathroom. Regis was in the bedroom, staring into the kitchen. When I exited the bathroom, he was in the kitchen, by the pantry, playing with something I couldn't see. I called Jessica and she said Nate heard something in the wall this morning. I ran back to the living room and shut the door. I'm not coming out. Micah said he would leave work at 4. I hope I don't have to go to the bathroom for the next 5 hours. If I absolutely need to, I will go in my coffee cup. So much for eating lunch, too. Send help.

UPDATE:
1:05pm It's quiet. Real quiet. I could hear Regis playing with something all up and down the hallway for quite a while. Now, it's silent. Micah just told me he forgot to feed him breakfast. Ewwww! Is he eating the mouse? Will there be blood and guts all over the white bedspread? Will I ever feel safe again?

UPDATE:
1:56pm It's still quiet and I am hungry. I am kicking myself for not taking up Jessica's offer to use her computer on the 1st floor. I could have sneaked out while Regis was playing with the mouse in the kitchen, and would not had to have to see a thing. When I wanted to eat, I could have snagged one of her coats and gone out. Wait! what about shoes? My shoes are in my bedroom, I wouldn't have any shoes. Ah, but I went for a walk last night and my snow boots are downstairs--HA! But, what about money? Your cash in in your purse and your purse is in the kitchen with the mouse? Well, that wouldn't be a trick at all--if Dave is working at Fu-Wah, I'm sure I could explain the situation and he would give me a tofu hoagie and I could pay him before they close tonight. Instead, I am stuck in here. This blows.

UPDATE:
3:13pm I'm cranky. I really want some food. I have an awful taste in my mouth because the last thing I had was coffee, hours ago. I have about an hour and a half to go. Hopefully. If Micah misses his train I think I may kill him. I'm pretty certain at this point that Regis has eaten the mouse. I started to get concerned, so I googled, "can my cat die if he eats a mouse". Apparently, no. I also found in my search a list called, Purr-litical Correctness. Here are a few:

1. My cat does not barf hairballs, he is a floor/rug redecorator.

2. My cat does not break things, she helps gravity do its job.

3. My cat does not fear dogs, they are merely sprint practice tools.

4. My cat does not gobble, she eats with alacrity.

5. My cat does not scratch, he is a furniture/rug/skin ventilator.

6. My cat does not yowl, he is singing off-key.

7. My cat is not a "shedding machine", she is a hair relocation stylist.

UPDATE:
6:03pm Jessica came home about a half-hour ago. She came up to the apartment, checked things out for me, and escorted me out the door. I got to use the bathroom AND she made a delicious snack of rasberries, blueberries,aged gouda and beer! Yum! I should barricade myself in rooms more often! Then, Micah came home. He wasn't as nice as Jessica. He went upstairs, then came down, rolled his eyes at me and said he didn't find a thing. Then, he kept yakking about how I should be happy that Regis catches mice because that's what he's supposed to do because of his biology blah,blah,blah. What a jerk! Anyway, I guess there was never a mouse after all! Oh well!

Threat level: yellow

As some of you may know, we like to use this blog as a platform to share our sisterly experiences, many of which include encounters with the one that bore us. She is quite the character. Everyone who has met her knows this about her and depending on how much time you spend with her, you may refer to her anywhere from "cute" to "insane." It seems that she is not as good of a sport about the fun-making that goes on here or in any other venue. Which is why we recently had to password-protect the blog. There was a breach in security. We won't say which sister lead her here. It is irrelevant because we all felt equal fear and shame and dread of the borderline personality-infused arguments that would surely follow her discovery. Thankfully, the sister was able to skillfully lead the mother away from our blogosphere and we followed with a thorough clearing of all histories and cache. And so, we have lowered the threat level and would like to invite our many faithful readers back to our exciting stories. Emily and Micah were recently in AZ which is always a fantastic time. It also changes the family dynamic just enough to spice things up a bit. Let's just say that Emily almost got us thrown out of a bar and Jenny may need to start attending some AA meetings. There are also some highlights from superbowl night that included Dad saying things like, "Gang, grab your ankles." Our family is so weird. And not like charming weird more like this-borders-on-sad-how-did-I-end-up-here weird. I will let Jenny and Emily fill in the details and pictures. Some may be offensive to sensitive audiences. Oh ya, and Jonah turned one and we had a party and it was fun.

Looking back and forth

Emily. I was reviewing some previous posts and came across more than one classic.

We are good. We are funny. We are enduring.

Please review this post and update us on your feelings about your upcoming trip to Arizona.

It is time for another installment of Email Conversations

Often, my sisters will crack me up with their I.M.s or their emails or their text messages. Usually one-liners or bizarre stories about people or situations in their lives. We really utilize our platform with each other to be pretty raw and rude assuming that some grace is extended in all directions based on the fact that we're pretty decent people and aren't really monsters but just play monsters on TV--I mean on this blog.

So, here's a funny little thread of an email conversation that tickled me. It's between H.V. and me.

From Hashifa: hey I forgot to tell your butt that we are getting new furniture for Fred's room so WTF do you want us to do with your stuff

Jenny's reply: Hmmmm. Maybe I want the dresser back. And maybe you know someone who wants the crib?

Hashifa's reply: i dunno about the crib and actually i might need the dresser for a little bit more longer. we ordered the crib but are still looking for a dresser. them things are spensive!

Jenny's reply: Oh ya, use it. You said "furniture" so I thought you needed to ditch both. Do Matt & Melissa need a crib? Or are you getting another one because that one needs to go to crib heaven? Is it shit now after 4 kids? Just tell me, I don't have any emotional attachment to it and it's not coming back here.

Hashifa's reply: ya...i was gonna say I would be willing to give it away anonymously but I don't know about someone I see regularly. It's not all shit but it is definitely on the fast track to shit. Jonah has yanked on the front gate pretty hard to where the screw has pulled the hole wonky and we can't tighten it down. BUT we have been happy to have it and I actually like the looks of it which is saying a lot for a crib. Baby things are so ugly, it is hard to find non-ugly things. Here is what we finally decided on. Funnily enough, the price was about 70 bucks less when we bought it so that is an added bone-ass. There is furniture that goes with it so we will either save our dollars and get that or just find something else we like acuz it won't need to match the crib forever. Anywho, I'm pretty jazzed about it and it should get here tomorrow. Now I just have to fix Mom's shoddy bumper pad construction. Seriously, not her best work. I finished my [read: "Jenny's wierd phone job"] paperwork today so I might give it a shot. I can always quit, right? Quitting is always an option and that is what I luv about life. Amen.

Jenny's reply: Please leave the crib at the curb. Please don't quit life.
Yours,
jenny

Hashifa's reply: The leaving on the curb trick is a cultural agreement unique to the midwest. In Michigan it means, "take it, it's free!." Here it means, "Call the HOA on me for leaving shit in my yard." I think we'll take it to the Salvation Army. James said some Mexicans will want it. I really hope Jonah doesn't inherit the Mexican subordination syndrome. It's so embarrassing. Hey, here is a line from an email I received from a therapist explaining why she canceled an appointment:

· 1/2/09: I cancelled due to a gastrointestinal viral infection that rendered me incapable of venturing far from the restroom.

Professional? Yes. Made me spit out my coffee? You betcha.
My Best,
Hashifa

Jenny's reply: That’s beautiful. She was really fearful of sharting during an appointment, and who can blame her?

Good info on the Michigan cultural phenomena. I’m not sure I was aware that that was unique and we might be in some minor trouble. Is it significant that we have gleaned a fire pit, a 6 drawer Craftsman tool chest and a sun lounger from the curbside? Should we be looking over our shoulders? Did we commit a misdemeanor or possible felony? Oopsies.

Also, good news on your [read: "Jenny's weird phone job"]paperwork. I hope one day you too can be led by this man, Pete. I continue to be amazed at the degree of jackass-edness of my “team lead.” This is how he chose to use parts of the English language in a review of a recent call (please don’t overlook all the fake verbs and nouns and poor sentence structure and the consistent fact that he ALWAYS uses the caps lock even on the chat line): YOU NEED TO ASK OPEN ENDED QUESTIONS IN THESE CALLS SO YOU CAN FIND THE HOT BUTTON.THIS WAY IF THE CALLER REFUSES TO ORDER, YOU WILL HAVE THE RIGHT INFORMATION YOU NEED TO MAKE THE ATTEMPTS AND REBUTTAL WITH THAT CALLER SO YOU CAN MAKE THE SALE.FOR THE MOST PART THIS CALL NEW THE PRICE AND DIDNT NEED ALL THE WORK DONE, BUT IF YOU CAN DO THIS WITH ALL YOUR CALLS YOU WILL MAKE LOTS OF CONVERSIONS.

By the way, this is what he writes on my reviews every week. There’s always the mention of open-ended questions and hotbuttons as well as the new verb: to rebuttal. It’s very helpful and very constructive. He’s really leading me to a better place. Where there are lots of conversions. If he only new.

Lovingly,
Jenny