Y'know, beside the usual stuff... Love, kittens, sleep, etc, etc.

1. This song. Oh, man, it makes me giggle whenever I play it in my head.
2. My pencil with a pink furry topper. I rub it against my face and it wakes me up.

Hm. Actually, that's about it. Still, though, it's a damn funny song.

Oh. So, let me show you my most heartless, selfish side here. I watched the news today in disappointment, when it dawned on my that The Tragically Hip may not play New Orleans in Sinking at the concert this weekend, as it might be considered in bad taste.

I know. I know.

With an impending testosterone-laden weekend, I find myself wondering about the male psyche. There are essentially two conclusions one can make. Actually, make it three:

1) The minds of men and women are pretty much the same. We are all humans, and we all thing the same way, more or less.

2) Men and women are completely different, with different emotional repsonses, different priorities, and different thought process, and never the twain shall meet.

3) Like anything else, there are natural variations within males and within females. We are all different, no matter if we are male or female.

Why does it even matter? Well, it doesn't, really. I guess spending the night with two men in a strip club gives one a unique perspective on gender relations. With that in mind, I would say with certainty that men and women are different creatures entirely. Granted, I like to think I understand how men think, but I don't necessarily subscribe to their point of view at all times. Most of my friends (at least most of my more casual friends) have been male. These are the types of friends I would hang out with, drink with, and occasionally flirt... or more with. By this, I mean to say I think I have a fairly good grip of the male mind.

Moreover, I think many women have learned to learn about men - through observation, through osmosis. But, how many men do you know who think they know women? Furthermore, do any of them really care?

Any thoughts?

(In case any of you are wondering, these musings have nothing to do with anything in particular.. I let my wonder, and this is what it came up with.)

Well, the weekend is a blur. No, it's not a blur. Actually, I remember the details of it quite exquisitely. If you'd like to read about, ask me for the link to the Sex Blog. It's long and full of dirty words, so read at your own risk.

Mr. Wonderful was back, and he brought a friend. His name is Georgie, and, oddly enough, he comes from Georgie. Not that Georgia, this Georgia. He spent time in Kenya, 3 years in France, and was living in Montreal. So he had this very sexy Georgian/French/Whatever else accent. He was a sweet guy, and we seemed to get along well. I was glad Mr. Wonderful made a friend to bitch about work with.

So, we went to a strip club Saturday night. MW got a lapdance from his archetypal wet dream fantasy, and Georgie got a lapdance from a raven-haired beauty in leather lingerie. Me? I had lots, and lots, and lots, of amazing, magical, out of this world, indescribable sex (though, if you do want to hear my clumsy description, see sex blog).

But, its back to reality again. Four more days until we meet again, this time for the Big Concert.

Thanks to the Internet Archive, I found a cached version of my original 200 Things About Me list. So, it's back, baby!

Obviously, I had to update it a bit. Actually, surprisingly, I had to update it quite a bit. I was pleasantly surprised at much can change in a year. I also removed a few, and added lots more, to keep things fresh and interesting. Go take a look, and tell me if there is anything new you learned about me.

By the by, where the hell is everyone? Am I dull, or has everyone just stopped commenting?

It never ceases to amaze me how people wind up here. What are you people thinking?

Jenn winds up #1 on a Google search for 'Don't tickle pissing'.

Dear Mark,

Overall, I don't think you're a bad guy. I've had a few drinks with you, and you seem to be a decent human being. I think you spend too much time alone, and need to go back to school instead of driving cabs, but nonetheless, I don't think you're a bad guy.

However.

It wasn't "Sweet Emotion" by Aerosmith blaring from your apartment at 3:00am this morning - nor was it the yelling and shouting (you were alone, weren't you?) - nor was it the constant banging on.. something I kept hearing - that pissed me off.

It was that GODDAMNED MOTORCYLE THAT YOU NEVER REALLY USE AND THAT YOU ONLY EVER TAKE OUT FROM UNDER THE TARP WHEN YOU ARE DRUNK AND WANT TO RELIVE YOUR CAREFREE YOUTH. Do you realize that reving the enging of a barely legal motorbike is annoying? Do you realize that it's even more annoying at 3:30am ON A WEEKDAY? DO YOU REALIZE THAT ONLY A NARROW SLAB OF WALL SEPARATES YOUR IDIOT BIKE AND MY FUCKING HEAD?? DO YOU REALIZE THAT I HAVE A GODDAMNED JOB AND YOUR FUCKING MACHO BIKE FETISH SERIOUSLY INTERFERES WITH MY QUALITY OF LIFE? DO YOU KNOW THAT THE NEXT TIME I HEAR THAT PUSSY ENGINE REV THAT I WILL MARCH OUTSIDE, SPREAD YOUR ASSCHEEKS AND RAM THAT BIKE UP YOUR ASS?

Sincerely,

Your friendly neighbour.

But this is so wrong.

What a day this has been. Meetings all day. Emails, phone calls, tasks from a project I completely forgot about.

I'm looking forward to the weekend. I'm going home Friday night, when I'll have a nice long hot bath, exfoliate, and shave all my furry parts. Saturday afternoon I have a meeting, then I'll awaiting MW and his co-workers.

Vicks and I went to a giant flea market this weekend. Giant was not the word. We walked for hours (our feet looked something like this) and I don't think we even saw half of all the booths that were there.

It is unbelieve how much garbage humans accumulate. Some booths made sense. Some were selling collectibles, glassware, books, etc. But then there was the completely random crap that no one would ever buy.

It was sort of like if Ebay threw up it's innards onto a huge field in a small Canadian town.

But yet, we had a compulsion to go through each booth to see what could be out there. Vicks got a great pair of Adidas sneakers. I got a set of crappy candleholders that didn't survive their maiden lighting. Oh, and fudge. That was decent.

Another interesting aspect of this outing was that it appeared that most of the sellers were living at the flea market. They had their tents or tailers set up. They sort of reminded me of carneys. They all seemed to know each other, and seemed to speak a language that was foreign to me. Many of them were old, probably retired, and overweight. I suppose there's worse ways to spend your retirement; going from town to town, selling crap that's been in your basement for decades, possibly making enough money to cover the cost of gas for the week. Maybe I've been missing out? Maybe I should consider a career change?

Uhm, no.

I'm insecure. I'm secure. I'm insecure.

So, MW is gone away for 2 weeks for training for his new job. It sounds amazing, intense, healthy, and fun. It's really an 'experience'. I'm so happy for him, because I know it's going to be a great thing for him.

However.

About 90% of his co-workers are women, and in my head, all look like this:

Which is, of course, a little unsettling. I know, I know, I know, I'll eventually just have to get over it, get more confidence in myself and just deal. I know. It's going to take some adjustment.

I'm being silly. Silly, silly, silly. Repeat as necessary.

I checked Sexy's progress at Kittenwar.com. It's pretty much 50/50. I suspect her popularity would increase exponentially if I put up the crystal dildo picture, but I don't think it would get past the censors.

Otherwise, though, Sexy seems to be doing just fine. She's eating and pooping as usual, and she's still a little crazy. I'll still watch her carefully for the next little while, but I think she's out of the woods. I got rid of the area rugs I suspect were the problems, and did a thorough cleaning to make sure there weren't any other surprises.

Another good bit of news is that I think MW called last night. Unfortunately, I was in the shower, so I never heard the phone, and all my caller ID says is "unknown #". Goddamnit. Still, it's reaassuring to know he may have called.

Back to Sexy, though. After the stress of last night, I thought it would be nice to....unwind. MW was nice enough to put his porn collection in my trust while he's away living with young co-eds for the next 9 months (right, who needs porn?). Most of them aren't my thing, but there are a few in there who are worth a gander or two. Anyway, I had put two of them on my bed. I looked away for maybe 10 seconds, only to find Sexy had made herself a home on the jack-mags. She's a magnet for sex, I tell you. A chip of the ol' block. I'm so proud. *sniff*

Well, the Internet (ie: About.com's Cat's discussion group) berated me for pulling the string out of my cat. Apparently I may have caused major internal damange, she could die from internal bleeding.

I've since called the vet to ask them what I should do. They said to keep an eye on her and watch her very closely to see if everything is okay. I will, of course. It's a little upsetting, but hopefully she'll be okay. If she hasn't pooped by tomorrow, off to the vet she goes.

Two more random things that are annoying and are contributing to my roughness.

1) I noticed last night that I have a mosquito bite near my taint. Ow. Don't ask me how I found it.
2) I can't call MW cuz his cell phone is out of the service area. It did not help matters when my mother suggested "maybe he forgot about you". Thanks.

Although Sexy likes to, inexplicably, sleep at the top of the strairs in my apartment near the door, at about 6am every morning, she'll make her way down and into my bed, where she'll walk around me and beg to be petted. This morning was the same as every other morning with one exception.

At around 7am, I could hear her prancing around my head. I lifted up my sleeping mask and opened one eye. I noticed a smell. A poo-smell. After my eyes had focused, I noticed a rather long string hanging out of my cat's bum. It was a poo-string, too; so, it stank. Like poo.

Hm. Okay. Now what?

After a few moments to wake up and decide what needed to be done, I found some kleenex to investigate this matter a bit further.

Have you ever seen the magic trick with the scarves? Yeah, sort of like that.

So, I pulled, and I pulled. My own sphincters tightened with every pull in empathy. Sexy, the slut, was actually purring.

I eventually stopped pulling. What is on the other end of this string? Could it be stuck on a major organ? I found my phone book to look up animal hospitals. Sexy starting to lick herself - yes, there. When she was finished, I once again put her up on the bed, and starting pulling once again. This time, she struggled a bit, and I noticed I was getting some resistance. I stopped.

At this point, I realized I was naked, and decided it best to at least put some pants on. While I did this, Sexy went into her litter box, for just a few moments. She came back out, and licked a bit more. For the third time, I wrestled her down to inspect her cat-bum. The string was gone. I checked the litter box, and there was no evidence of anything foreign. The string may be gone.

So.

I don't know what it was. I don't really have any thread or dental floss or anything of that nature in the house, though she may have gotten a loose threat from the carpet or one of her toys. Besides the string hanging out of her ass, though, she seemed fine - active, alert, etc. I'm still a bit worried about her so I'm going to pop in at lunch time to check in. I'll keep a close eye on her litter box, too, just in case anything should po(o)p up.

Really, though, not a great way to start a morning. For either of us.

YOUR SONG, "UNTITLED", SUCKS.


(I think it's great that the mesage of the video for this song is 'don't drink and drive', but
hearing your song 20 times a day makes me want to get really drunk and hit
anything that moves. PLEASE ERASE THIS SONG FROM THE UNIVERSE.)

Yours truly,

Jenn.

PS: Please stop singing through your sinus cavities.

Why do you make such good food? Oh, you with your silent "j"'s and flatbreads and gaucamole. Okay, I take it back. I love Mexicans. Don't ever leave me!

Right. I know it wasn't really authentic Mexican food. But it was damn yummy. The company was just what the doctor ordered, too.

I went to sleep last night, feeling rather, uncomfortable. I must say, I awoke this morning with a gastro-intestinal wind-gust that would put Mr. Wonderful to shame.

Ew? Sorry.

MW has been gone for three days, and I guess I'm starting to let myself go a bit.

"For those nights and days, when you want to be and feel a little special,
naughty, and very sexy, these Manties are for you.

Once you have them on, it will be "hard" to take them off. They are made of nylon and have the extra room where you need it, for the most comfortable fit there is. Once you try a pair, you will wonder why you never tried them before.

Panties are for the gals.

MANties are for the guys."

That animated gif was starting to get annoying.

I went out for lunch with a girl from work I will call BM. We wandered around the mall, and then drove back to work discussing physics, atomic science, and God. It was a nice departure from the usual office gossip and/or discussions about children.

MW will be going away for 2 weeks, and I think I already miss him. I'll keep myself busy this weekend, so I won't feel like he's having all the fun. Money is tight though, so it will be lots of walking around. I'd like to explore the trails a bit more around town, and see where I end up. I've been meaning to do it since I first moved, but never got around to it. Looking back, I started to realize how unhealthily I was living the first month or two I was here. I think I sort of shut down, which is typically what happens when I feel overwhelmed. It's hard to work against the current, but it has to start somewhere.

Hm. I've been way too introspective this week, huh? I think I'll open up the floor here and see what YOU'D like to read here. Or see here. It's not that I'm out of ideas, but I want to please my readers.

Hoorah! 500 posts!

Exciting, yet sad.

And so, I do my 15th Hotmail check of the day. Lo and behold:

Dude on the left? We got funky one day when I was in university. We were friends since grade four, and just decided that we had to do it. So, we did.

Chick on the right? His girlfriend at the time. She dumped him on their aniversary, while they were naked in a bathtub, because she wanted to have babies.

I don't know what it is today, maybe it's the electricity in the air, but I am constantly amazed at the broadness and variability of the human existance.

A two minute slice of my life.

Scene: Inside a grocery store. Jenn approaches the register with her purchases. A young man gets in line behind her. He has dozens of tattoos, some of them on his face. He looks like a bad ass, but he has a very nice smile, and makes eye contact.

Jenn's Brain - Hm. He's kinda interesting looking, especially for here. He looks tough. I wonder if he's high. I like it when people smile at me.

Jenn makes small chat with the cashier, and complains about not being able to find the right kind of onion. She bags her purchases and walks outside to call a cab.

Mr. Tattoo walks past. Jenn nods in recognition. Mr. Tattoo turns around and walks back to Jenn.

Mr. Tattoo: Can I ask you a question?

Jenn: Yeeeessss?
Jenn's Brain: I think he's going to hit on me! How nice! I didn't think I atttracted the overly tattooed, bad ass type.

Mr. Tattoo: Do you know how to get to heaven?

Jenn: Uhm... No?
Jenn's Brain: Okay, here it comes. He's going to give me a line about looking into my eyes and seeing heaven, or that I look like an angel.

Mr. Tattoo: Well, all you have to do is believe in God, right? And then one night you go to bed and open your hear to Jesus Christ as your own personal saviour and then you can get into heaven. Cool, eh?

Jenn: Erh, yah. Sure.
Jenn's Brain: Fuck.

I don't know if it's the fact that summer is winding down, or it's biorhythms or what, but everyone I know seems to have a lot of changes going on in their lives. Whether you're coming or going, or whether you're staying where you are, each path seems to be fraught with their own particular stresses.

But, to use a cliché; that's life, right? We've lived through the hors d'hoeuvres, stage of our lives, and now it's time for start taking our first bites of that big ol' T-bone.

Watch out for the gristle.

And so, that's that. I just have one question though: What kind of crazy-soup have these women been slurping on???

Don't get me wrong. I think Pamela Anderson has her merits. They are few and far between, but she does have some merits. She is beautiful. She's a spokesmodel for PETA. And, well, that's about it. As for Charo, the only thing I know about her is what I learned from the Surreal Life, which is that she's a nutbar.

To get these two women in one photograph is almost too much to bear (bare?). I mean, the tits alone are enough to make a grown man cry.

I don't even know what to say anymore.

So, I did this quiz. It's just as I had expected. I am nothing in particular, yet everything at the same time:

You scored as Geek/Nerd. Haha! ok. go computer geeks! Geek/Nerd 54% Goth 53% Stoner 40% Loner 40% Emo Kid 20% Hot 20% Punk 7% Prep 7% Jock 0% "Ghetto" 0% What Highschool Clique Do You Belong To? created with QuizFarm.com

As Napoleon Dynamite would say, "Sweet".

To counteract some of the heavier posts I've had lately, I bring you mindless Internet fun, care of Opaco.

How Freaky Are you?
Instructions: BOLD = true
Italics = untrue
* at the end = would LIKE to be true

I have had sex while wearing a blindfold
I have blindfolded someone else during sex *
I have had sex while watching porn
I have had sex while surfing porn on the Internet *
I sleep better after sex
There are some nights I cannot sleep without sex or masturbating
The bed is NOT my most favorite place to have sex
I am turned on knowing someone is watching me masturbate
I have masturbated for someone over a web cam *
I have had sex over a web cam
I will have sex with someone I just met if they turn me on
I have been tied up during sex
I have had sex with someone who was tied up
I have dripped wax onto a lover's body *
I have had a lover drip wax onto my body *
I have a foot fetish
I have a leather fetish
I have a tickle fetish
I like being choked during sex
I have had sex in a burning building *
I have erotic art on display somewhere in my residence
I enjoy nudie magazines
Erotic toys are a regular part of my budget
I think PLAYBOY is tame, maybe even boring
I have clicked on porn links in my email
I know the difference between girl/girl and lesbian sex in porn
I have watched more than one gay/lesbian porn video
Much of what I know about sex comes from porn
Interracial sex turns me on
I think we should do more to understand the cultures of sex
I would participate in sex research given the opportunity
I currently have a "crush" on someone of the same sex
I have had sex at my place of employment *
Some people might describe me as a nymphomaniac
I am difficult to live with if I'm not having sex on a regular basis
I sleep better with someone snuggled up next to me
I have had sex under water
I have had sex in the snow *
I have to have music playing while having sex
I have had more than ten orgasms in one night
I have flashed strangers
I have given sex as a gift
I have set-up a three-way for my lover *
I stopped during this list to have sex

So, after... many months, MW is now employed.

A round of applause, please.

He will be living with 10 youth in the northern part of the province for 3 periods of 3 months, so 30 youth in all. He'll be the leader/hen mother of the house, which is pretty funny.

Honestly? I've got a lot of thoughts in my head right now. A lot. A part of me is jealous of MW for the experience he will have. Meanwhile, I will be here living the exact opposite life of him. I feel a sense of panic. Then again, this isn't the first time I've felt this way when one of us has moved away. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

It's the unknown. I always get scared about what could happen, but somehow we always manage to get through it stronger than ever. I think maybe I just have to trust in us a bit more.

I'm so proud of MW, though, and I've admired the goals he has set for himself. And maybe that's where part of the panic comes from. It seems like 'getting a job' has been my biggest goal lately, and now it's time to push myself more. I've been selling myself short on a lot of things lately, and now seems like a good time to go ahead and accomplish some things. Important things. At least, important to me. I think I've been so used to living life so laid back, it might be harder.

You know, thinking about this a bit deeper. I never really discuss these issues with anyone. Goals, I mean. I feel like I'm personally offending people if I don't accomplish them. And I hate that feeling of letting anyone down. It's like when I tried to (finally) get my license in SH. I never talked about it to anyone, and I never posted anything here about it. I was embarrassed. I don't know why these things are so personal to me.

Uh. Right. I think I better stop here before Dr. Phil picks up my scent and I show up on "Intervention".

Hope on board, Kiddies. It's migraine train! Highlights include tunnel vision, sensitivity to light, and a general crankiness. The ride lasts about 4-6 hours, and departs every 3 months or so.

Today's adventure is unscheduled, so get your seat now.

Within minutes of hearing of MW's recent interview, the vision problems started. I have a pattern of fun, sort of shapped like an arrow head on my right side, though it appears in each eye. It's distracting. An hour or two from now, I'll get a splitting headache, and will just want to die. I've taken two preemtive ibuprofens, so hopefully it won't be so bad.

I'd like to think that the thought of MW moving sort-of far away is not the cause of this episode, but I'm sure it takes some of the blame. I guess I'm used to be the one moving, that I'm a tad unprepared when my rock begins to roll.

But for now, regardless of the cause, Jenn needs some darkness, some quiet, and lots of drugs.

A friend and I went to Rainbow Valley for the day. If I haven't told you already, it's closing at the end of the season, for good. I went here as a child, so we wanted to visit on last time.

What were my parents thinking?

Okay, really, Rainbow Valley is a neat place. For 1989. But, as I was sitting in a darkened room, in a simulated 'boat', with decades old audio tracks coming from decaying robots, watching rum runners get drunk and beat their wives, I had to think... why was this my favorite ride?

At every turn there's a different glimpse into the absurd. There's a petting zoo, with goats, lambs and... puppies.. and....kittens... and.. a calf. What? Isn't that random? I understand everything except for the puppies and kittens.... juxtaposed with the giant calf.

I really can't explain all the weirdness in one post. You really just have to go.