Jaded Jennifer

I’m sitting in my bedroom writing today. I’ve been happy because I’m actually accomplishing something. Normally, when I’m writing, Wren stays downstairs and keeps the kids out of my hair, and will occasionally show up with a hot cup of coffee for me, made just the way I like it with hazelnut and caramel creamers and lots of sugar.

Today, though, he started watching the Amazing Race on his computer and I guess coffee didn’t cross his mind. I sent him text messages….that he never even saw because he was so into the show he didn’t hear his creepy phone talking to him. As far as I know, he STILL hadn’t seen them. But here they are, for all of YOU to see:

4:31pm - Coffee?

4:41pm - So is that a no on the coffee?

5:03pm - I want sex. Come and do me now.

5:11pm - So is that a no on the sex too?

5:26pm - You suck

5:30pm - I offer you sex in exchange for coffee and you ignore it. How rude.

5:39pm - What do I have to do for a cup of coffee around here? Offer you a strip tease?

5:40pm - A foot rub?

5:43pm - A blow job?

5:47pm - A threesome?

5:55pm - Seriously. What does a girl have to do to get a cup of coffee around here?

5:59pm - I’d offer to floss your cat but I don’t think that would do it for you.

6:06pm - Fine. I give up. I didn’t want coffee anyway. Jerkface.

Isn’t it fun to have a text message conversation with yourself? Hey, at least I lasted an hour and a half before I resorted to name calling.

Oh, and in other news, a killer whale killed somebody yesterday. Shocking.

Ok, back to writing.

Recently Pepsi decided to release “throwbacks”. I guess they’re supposed to be the old versions of our favorite soft drinks. All I know is, one day I found myself driving around town without my standard Mountain Dew bottle beside me. Anyone who knows me knows that I don’t go anywhere without my best friend, dressed in all of its green glory. But see, I had driven my car to the car lot so they could replace the O2 censor and I left my pop in there while we ran around town in the van.

So I stopped at a gas station and sent Wren in to grab me a Dew. He carried it out and I quickly opened it and guzzled, sure I was dying of thirst since it had been a whole 20 minutes since I last tasted that citrusy yumminess. It was cold. It was wet. And it was all fine. Until I swallowed. Then I frantically searched the floor of the van for something sharp I could use to scrape the taste buds off of my tongue.

If you haven’t tasted Pepsi’s new Mountain Dew “throwback”, don’t. Just don’t. It’s disgusting. They say it’s made with natural sugars. Tastes like Splenda to me, and let me tell you there is NOTHING natural about sugar-free sugar. That’s like chocolate-free chocolate or a blue orange. Or like Carrot Top dying his hair black. Come on. That’s just plain unnatural.

Seriously. If you ever find yourself with a “throwback”, do what the bottle suggests. And if Wren ever buys me another one (because he’s bought me at least 4 of them in the last week) (because he’s a guy and doesn’t look at the bottle) (”it’s green” he says “that’s all I noticed”), then he may find HIMSELF being thrown back. And if Pepsi continues producing this disgusting product and trying to disguise it as a “return to your youth” I may just have to track down the genuises who came up with this marketing scheme and forcefeed them sugar-free sugar, chocolate-free chocolate, blue oranges, AND Carrot Top.

Ok, I think I’m done bitching now.

1. Sex. It’s always at the top of my list.

2. Cake. Can’t remember the last time I had a cake for my birthday. Well, unless you count the pretend birthday that Boogie gave me a few months ago.

3. A clean house. And let me add, that I’d like to NOT have to be the one to clean it. I probably will be, though.

4. Bacon. Sausage. Hash browns with cheese. Mmmm….I’m hungry.

5. Laughter. It’s always good.

I want to say something like, “to be surrounded by family and friends” because that’s always a great way to spend a birthday. The only reason I’m not adding it as #6 is because, well, I’m ALWAYS surrounded by family. In a house of 8 people, it’s hard not to be elbow to elbow with somebody. But I’m also not adding it because it’s not just something I WANT, it’s something I’m GETTING. I invited a couple of people over for dinner. Just found out a couple more are gonna be showing up. They wanted to surprise me but decided that might put a kink in any plans we had, so I’ve been instructed to act surprised.

Last weekend was rough for me. But this whole week I’ve been reminded how lucky I am to have people in my life who care about me. I’m pretty damn thankful for all of them. Today is just another day for most people. For me, it’s not only my 34th….I mean, 21st birthday. It’s also my Thanksgiving and my New Year’s Day.

*EDIT*
6. NO CRANKY MOODS!!!

For a few years now, I’ve known I needed to get a small car. That need has become more apparent now with my kids being older and capable of staying home on their own. The majority of the time, it’s only me and Wren in the car, and maybe a kid or two. It seems silly driving a mini-van around for only two or three people.

So in February, I paid off the van and I was planning to put a down payment on a car. But something held me back. I wasn’t excited about the idea and I wanted to revel in having no car payment for awhile.

So April came around and school started back up and I figured I should probably set some money aside for a down payment on a car. I sat here for a month with that money in a box by my bed, in no big hurry to get a new car.

Until last Sunday when my ex showed up with his new car. Well, not NEW, but it was a CONVERTIBLE. I was annoyed. And jealous. He knows how much I’ve always wanted a convertible, and he never really cared about getting one. Not to mention, he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for a car for ME and instead he got it for himself.

It made me realize that for the first time in my life, I could go find a FUN car. Not a car that would seat more children. I already have the practical car. So off me and Wren went to the car lot on Tuesday and I bought my car. You know you love it:

Ok, maybe YOU don’t love it because it’s not yours. And yes, yes, I know it’s not a convertible. But it’s a t-top, which is better in many ways. Less wind to deal with. In the past, I’d look at a car like that and think “Yeah, it’s a nice car.” It’s different when it belongs to you, though. All day I keep looking out the back window and admiring it. I told Wren I’m just so shocked that I have a car like that. So then he begins telling everybody on WoW that I’m surprised to have such a nice car, and I looked at him in shock. How dare he? He was ruining my illusion of glamour!!

How can I be this glamourous woman who drives a purple Firebird if he’s walking around telling people how surprised I am that I own it? I mean, come on. I can’t walk around with my head in the air and pretend it’s normal for me to have a sleek, sporty car if everybody is whispering “That car is SO not her and she knows it!” behind my back.

But I admit it. I’m in love with my car. I’d totally have sex with it if I could. In fact, I’m thinking about turning those photos into posters that I can hang on my ceiling so I can masterbate to my car every night. Hell, I even had to go outside and do the sexy poses:

That would probably be MUCH more effective if I got somebody sexy to pose for them, huh? lol

Oh well. I love my car! I love my car! I love my car!

See my cute little diseases.

I still want Herpies and HIV. If you want your own diseases, go visit http://www.giantmicrobes.com

About 8 years ago, my house got hit by a car.Yes, you heard me. My house got hit by a car. It wasn’t just your normal vehicular assault either. It was a hit and run. Some drunk slid on a patch of ice, slammed into the back of our house, then took off before we could recover from the shock and realize what had happened. If it had happened a half hour later, my boys would have been covered in glass. As it was, their bunk bed was broken and it took quite a bit to repair the damage.

Honestly, it turned out to be a not so bad thing. Our insurance company cut us a check for the estimated repairs and, since we had built the house ourselves, we fixed it ourselves and got the supplies at wholesale. I think we came out about $1000 ahead.

Plus, we get the privilege of telling people that our house got hit by a car, which is pretty fun to say.

I wonder sometimes about the idiot who hit it. Does he (I assume it was a man, and I’d rather not explain why) walk around telling people “I hit a house with my car once. I thought it would be a fair fight. Turns out, the house was much tougher than it looked.”

On another note, I’ve decided it’s time for me to resort to throwing fits. My four year old does it. Why can’t I?

So next time Wren won’t go in and make me mashed potatoes with cheese, or tells me that I HAVE to wake up because I’m sleeping all day, I’m just going to throw myself down on the floor, kick my feet, and start screaming and crying. I really think it will work. I think he’ll be so shocked and confused, that he’ll give me what I want. Hell, with how loud I can scream, he’ll probably promise to erect a statue in my honor out on the front lawn just to stop the madness.

Yep. It’s the Terrible Thirty-Threes for me.

Oh, and no, I won’t be doing videos of me throwing fits. I’d hate to tarnish my image.

I really don’t hate winter. I probably sound like I do most of the time. I absolutely love the concept of winter. Snow is a fun, wonderful thing if you don’t have to go out and drive in it. Or worry about loved ones who are driving in it in my case because I wouldn’t be caught dead driving in this crap.

I love making snowmen, which we haven’t been able to do yet this year because all of the snow we’ve gotten has been too powdery. I love having snowball fights with the kids, but once again, that hasn’t been possible this year. It’s so very beautiful to look at and there’s nothing I love more than sitting in a nice, warm house, drinking hot chocolate, watching the snow fall outside. This is the first time I’ve ever lived in a house with a fireplace and the idea of roaring fires with snow drifting down out the window is just so romantic.

The reality is quite different, though. Who knew that fires were such a pain in the ass? Sure, it roars for about 5-10 minutes but then it starts dying out and somebody (read: Wren) has to get up and stack more wood on it. There’s no such thing as relaxing in front of a fire. Or at least, there isn’t if you’re Wren. One thing I have learned this winter is that a gas fireplace would be much more preferable. I think I’m just burnt out on winter and snow after the 3 feet we got in 2 days back in December. Being snowed in at Christmastime wasn’t fun. And, of course, now that it’s snowing again Boogie keeps running around saying “Christmas is coming back!” It probably doesn’t help that I still have our tree and decorations all up. Ah, the life of a procrastinator.

Apparently, Boogie also thinks it’s my birthday today. She spent over an hour telling me it’s my birthday and that she’s getting everything ready for my party. I caught her in the kitchen filling coffee cups with water from the cold water dispenser on the freezer. Despite the fact that I told her after 2 cups that she needed to quit because she was dirtying up all the cups in the house, she still ended up filling 9 cups, one for each of us and one for Luke who has been here since Saturday.

I wonder if I should just go along with the birthday idea. It’s not like I usually get a birthday celebration in May, when my birthday actually is. I’m pretty sure she’s taken some of her toys and wrapped them in towels for me to open. And it didn’t help when Wren came back from picking up the kids and had a big cake that he just had to get from the store because it looked so good. Now Boogie thinks that’s my birthday cake.

I was wondering how old I would be if I actually had as many birthdays as my kids have thought I should have. I figure that each of my kids has tried to celebrate my birthday at least 5 times in their young lives. 6 kids x 5 birthdays = 30 years old. Of course, since they don’t acknowledge my REAL birthday, I think we could just leave it at 30 years old. I’m ok with that.

Hell, most people get older on their birthdays. I just became 3 years younger. Awesome.