Let the White girl stand

I’ve been navigating and adapting to the public transit system for a couple of months now. And although I haven’t had much trouble, there are a few things that puzzle me.

For example: Why do most of the buses smell like Axe Body Spray and cat piss? I can sorta understand the Axe, as it is the fragrance of choice for the lower-paid masses, but I’ve yet to see a cat board a bus and present a monthly pass to the driver.

Also, why do so many people ride the bus at 5:15 in the morning? I do because it’s the only way I can get to work on time, but the people riding along with me don’t look like they even have jobs, let alone anyplace urgent to be that early in the morning.

Some of the buses are becoming unpleasantly overcrowded. I’m guessing the gas prices have something to do with the increased ridership, and I understand that. But if you have a glimmer of hope that chivalry is still alive, just hop on a DART bus during rush hour and watch your hopes get dashed. My bus was extra crowded this morning. The only spot left was about a half-inch between a large black woman (who wasn’t budging) and a tiny Asian woman. Tiny Asian woman did her best to scoot over as far as possible, trying to give me a seat. I may be getting smaller, but there was no way I was going to fit, so I just stood. I turned and looked at the line of at least 7 men who had seats, who saw me standing, and not one of them got up and offered me a seat. They looked defiant, in fact, daring me to say something. The look in their eyes said to me: “Let the white girl stand.” So I did. I shook my head, rolled my eyes a bit, and held on to the nearest thing I could to keep from falling into someone’s lap. I did, however, step on a few feet, just for good measure.

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Weight Watching update:

I just completed my 12th week on the plan. I’ve lost 16 pounds** and who knows how many inches. I feel great, and even though I have a long way to go, I know that I’m doing it the right way (slow and steady wins the race) and for the right reasons (it’s all about ME! I’m not doing it for anyone else). I feel better about this than any other so-called diet I’ve ever been on. No pills, no shakes, and I’m seeing and feeling results. This rocks.


(**16 pounds is my official "Weight Watchers" weight. However, my doctor weighed me in 3 pounds heavier right before I started WW, so I've actually lost closer to 20 pounds. Yay me!)

Pretty, funny chicks

Aren't we lovely? We're pretty and funny. Yeah.
I love Jill. Jill is the coolest person I know.

We had a blast last nite. The first show for Locked Out Comedy was a success! Good location, great crowd, simply amazing. I need a nap.

Super. Man.

"I am, I am, I am Superman
and I know what's happening
I am, I am, I am Superman
and I can do anything
You don't really love that guy you make it with now do you?
I know you don't love that guy cause I can see right through you." - REM

Yeah, he is Superman. He told me so. But I don't love him. And that's ok.

You know what I've realized while hooking up with someone much younger than myself? That I have absolutely no cute underwear. Seriously. Must do something about that.

Is this whole thing just wrong? I mean, he is nearly half my age. But it makes me feel young, and my confidence and self-esteem are way up. We both know it's not going to be a long-term thing. I'm not stupid enough to actually have a relationship with someone so young. But you know what? I've spent the majority of my life trying to make other people happy. Well, this makes me happy. So there.

I'm surrounded by people who are in love - not the 'been together for years' kind of love, but that awesome, brand-new love that gives you butterflies and makes you think sappy things are romantic. It's all I can do to hold down my whole-grain waffles. Jealous? Perhaps. I certainly hope to eventually find someone who gets me. But for now I'm content with my little Superman.

I was sitting on my porch, enjoying the breeze. There was a man pacing back and forth in the parking lot with no shoes on, talking on a cell phone in a foreign language. Hindi, maybe? I wasn't listening that closely. He didn't know I was there. As long as I'm sitting down, no one can see me behind the fence. He may have heard the click of my lighter as I lit up another cigarette. Maybe that's why he walked away.

I sat there thinking about the conversation I had with my ex earlier this evening. He called. We talked for over an hour, without animosity, without anger or vicious jabs. It was, dare I say, not unpleasant. I kept waiting for things to take a u-turn and end up badly, but that never happened. It made me feel like I have come a long way. I got over it. I moved on. And so did he.

It's too bad we brought out the very worst in each other. But it's better this way.

Having a civil conversation with him brought to mind a good memory of our relationship. My favorite one, actually. It was the night I won the Gong Show at Ben's Halfyard House back in July of 2005. He was there - he got there late and missed my set, but was there when they announced me as the winner. I was so excited. Men were coming at me with propositions of various deviancies, but I went home with the one who came there just to see me. We swam naked in the pool. We made love. He made me feel so special, and I was glad he was there to share a memorable moment in my life. When we slept, he held me in his arms all night and wouldn't let go. It was a perfect evening.

Is it any wonder I thought that I meant something to him that night?
Unfortunately, everything started going down hill just a few days after that. But that one night was worth remembering. And being able to acknowledge that there were good times is so much better for the soul than focusing on the bad.

Nine Inch Nails and a mid-life crisis

Trent Reznor is helping me lose weight - and he doesn't even know it. The new NIN song is so great, I love walking to it. Thanks, Trent.

I think I'm going thru a sort of mid-life crisis. I seem to get along better with people under the age of 25 lately. Weird. I had a fascinating conversation with a 21 year old boy last nite at my daughter's place. We got on the subject of music and he became quickly impressed with my knowledge of the 80's punk scene. (I was there, afterall.) He later told my daughters that I was 'kick-ass'. Neato. I am kick-ass. Fo sho.

I'm down 15 pounds. I'm tan. I'm walking more than 12 miles a week, as well as doing sit-ups and toning exercises.
I feel good.
I look good.
And my ex got dumped by his near-pubescent girlfriend. I hear she was cheating on him. Sweet! Hello shoe, meet the other foot!
Life is good.

The Summer of Jenn continues....

A new adventure...

So, I'm trading in my stand-up act to try my hand at improv for a while. I'm excited and nervous and anxious and all things similar.

Our website:
www.lockedoutcomedy.com

Our first show is June 18th - details on the website.

This is an amazing group of funny, creative, talented people, and I'm thrilled that they invited me to join them.

The one piece of advice my ex-douchebag gave me was this - I needed to get out of my head. And he was right. Unfortunately, I never seemed able to do that when he was around. Hmm. I'm a very self-conscious person, always have been. So how am I able to stand on a stage, by myself, and reveal the sordid details of my life? I have no idea. Alcohol helped. Improv is so different. You work as a team. You play off other people. You don't overthink everything. And most of all, you have fun. And I'll be able to do all of those things, as soon as get out of my head. And with this group, I don't think it will be a problem.

Check out the website, we have pictures and everything!

What would you do?

OK, I have a dilemma.

I may have mentioned, though I don't recall - I was written up at work for missing too many days. Even though I had valid reasons and/or paperwork, but I understood. That same day, another person in my department was also written up for the same thing. We were both told that any additional occurrences in the next 30 would result in 'further disciplinary actions'.

OK. No problem.

So, at the end of that week, this person told me (and several other people) that they planned to go out of town on vacation the following week (Memorial Day), and they didn't really care if they lost their job or not. The Friday before Memorial Day rolls around, and this person conveniently became ill, and was out the entire next week.

Now, I know for a fact that this person did indeed proceed with their plans to go out of town. (Gosh, how did you get so tan while you were home sick?) They basically told on themself and confirmed what I suspected.

Meanwhile, I'm calling my boss in tears because I was afraid I would be 5 minutes late one day last week!

I don't like being a snitch, but it's not fair* that this person got away with such a thing, and I know I would probably be fired if I were to pull such a stunt! My absences were legitimate, and this person gets to go on vacation without being penalized.

Boo.

I'm sure our boss doesn't know, and it really makes me angry that he's being played.

So, what would you do? Would you tell your boss, or would you just keep your mouth shut?

(*And yes, I know, "life isn't fair".)

Rumor has it....

You wanna know what really grinds my gears? Well I’ll tell ya. I find it ridiculous and annoying that if I talk to and joke around with a guy, somehow that means I want to sleep with him? WTF?

Case in point: a rumor is floating around about me at work. The rumor is that I have a ‘crush’ (are we in high school?) on one of the guys in our service department.

Really? That’s news to me!

Everyone hopefully knows by now that I’m a very friendly, chatty person, especially when I find someone with whom I have things in common. I guess I come off flirty, but I assure you, it’s harmless. The guy in question is married, first off. Second, I don’t find him attractive. We have the same work hours, and I go back to the service department to get ice a few times a day and he’s usually the only one there. It would be rude of me not to say hello, wouldn’t it? He's a nice guy and we're the same age. So we’ve gotten into telling each other jokes. We take turns. It’s fun. We talk about his wife and his kids and just general stuff like that, nothing at all untoward or inappropriate – and not any different than the way I talk to the rest of the men at my job. Or anywhere else, for that matter.

It really creeps me out a bit that they are back there discussing me now. Ugh. I am very happy being single. Most of my friends are guys; I just get along well with men for some reason.

Oh yeah, that’s because I want to sleep with all of them!

Not.

I’m not supposed to know about this, of course. It was told to me in confidence by someone who’s always got my back. But now I think I either want to avoid the area and find a new ice source – or perhaps I could play it up big time and really make that person who started this rumor think something is going on. That would probably be bad.

I hate rumors.