Ok, remember my blog after Christmas, when Holly bought me a kick-ass necklace?  She got it from a crafter at a cool site called etsy.com.  So…I figured I’d do a little searching.  I came across a merchant there by the username disquieting.  How, you’re asking?  Well, on a whim, I typed “Rum” into the search engine.  Why?  Who knows, that’s not part of the story.  Anyway, I digress.  I bought her Butter Rum lip balm, not reading any of the fine print (including the fact that she ships with free samples.  WOOHOO!!  I’m all about free!!), and hoped for the best.  It came, like, 3 days later.  WOOOHOOO!!!  It also came with friends.  2 more flavors of lip balm, some “Tub shooters” (like bath bombs, only already crushed up, just like if you’d bought bath bombs in the mail, only she crushes them before the USPS gets to) and a solid lotion bar.  It’s like…in a tube and everything.  And it’s toasted marshmallow scented.  AWE.  SOME.  F’real.  And, for those of you who know me, you know that I have skin about as moist as the sahara in the summer.  It works.  It’s not greasy, and it’s awesome.

So, what is this, a big ad?  YES.  But not for me.  Go buy her stuff, because it’s awesome.  I’ve YET to find something in her products that’s sucktastic, and I doubt I will.  And I plan on buying everything she sells :)  Just not at once, because, well, I’m not all high-paid n’ shit

Why are you still reading my boring-ass blog?  GO BUY.

Jeni out.

First, before I start, here is the recipe.  Delicious.

I spent a good hour cooking bacon today.  You’ll see that by how many goddamn pictures I took of me cooking bacon.  Observe.

And, you know what?  They are GOOD.  Delicious.  Scrumptious.

Soundtrack for today’s cooking spree:

Esthero - If Tha Mood

Katy Perry - Ur So Gay

Aretha Franklin - Chain of Fools

Esthero - We R In Need of a Revolution

Katy Perry - Self-Inflicted

Ur So Gay

I <3 Katy Perry.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRapCTGIlJA]

Ok, so I’ve been on a Rammstein kick lately. It has now been replaced by my new obsession; The Horrorist. I don’t know what I find so appealing about German industrial music…I think it’s just the raw “fuck you” ness.

So, in honor of my feet feelin’ the vibe (from the woofer under them), here are random thoughts.

The only thing that sticks in my mind from the whole Spitzer debacle (other than his last name is fucking Spitzer) is that the hooker he fucked was rated on a DIAMOND system. Like, was she a 4 diamond whore?

Smith Micro needs to get its’ shit together. Seriously. Fucking hell.

I need to edit this layout. It’s not pink enough.

Who the fuck serves pickles with a REAL gyro?

What is the origin of The Disturbance?

Why can’t I have a caliope and drive it to work?

Does our government REALLY think we’re that fucking stupid?

I need a nap.

My feet are curled up beneath me.

I love skittles, but I hate chewing them.

Same with starburst.

They need to come in liquid form without being fucking gross.

I need to redo my nails.

I also need a bajillion dollars. Yesterday.

That is all. For now.

Yes, yes, I know.  I change blogs like most people change underwear.  But, this one’ll stay, I prooooooooooooomise.

More to add latah!

Ok, here’s the deal.  I REALLY like talking to new people, making new friends, and all that jazz…but, seriously.  If I mention that Michigan is, like, the 1 state in the US as far as unemployment rating goes…I don’t want to hear you tell me how you know all about it because you watched Roger and Me.  First things first, there are more than 3 cities/towns in Michigan.  I know, I know.  It’s hard to believe that Michigan consists of more than Detroit, Ann Arbor, and Flint.  I know.  I have a hard time believing it, too, and I *live* here.  I mean, imagine my surprise when I discovered LANSING.  Or KALAMAZOO.  And, I mean, Adrian even has its’ own airport.  I don’t know exactly what it’s used for, other than air shows and to teach people to fly at the JCC Aviation department, but I do see airplanes and gliders in the air around it from time to time.

Anyway, sarcasm aside, really, REALLY, I need you to look at the big picture.  First things first….Roger and me was filmed in 1989.  THAT WAS 19 FUCKING YEARS AGO.  Flint has slightly grown since then.  Notice I said slightly.  Also, there are more companies in Michigan OTHER than General Motors.  Yeah, I know, shocking.  I mean, we’ve got Kellogg’s (Yes, the same company that makes Frosted Flakes), we’ve got Motown Records (yes, still), hell, we’ve even got SPORTS teams.  We even have a women’s basketball team!!  I don’t know if they’re any good, because I don’t fucking follow women’s pro basketball, but, really.  I figure, if Google thought it was a good idea to set up shop in Ann Arbor, then Michigan can’t be all that bad of a place.

On top of that…the problem isn’t with big business all the time.  Jobs in Michigan are moving elsewhere…to other states, to other countries.  Why?  Because our Governor, and past Governors, thought it a smashing fucking idea to tax the hell out of businesses.  The amount of tax imposed on established and budding businesses alike are enough to make companies move out of here in SWARMS.  Add to that the fact that our state government has NO idea what a budget IS, let alone how to stick to one, and we’re pretty much fucked until Granholm’s term is over.

Jobs all over the place, and not just in the auto industry are taking the hit.  Sure, new cars are selling less.  Michigan isn’t the only state with auto plants.  Yes, agriculture is taking a huge hit.  That’s why people started growing corn specifically for biofuel.  It’s a budding industry, and, hey, research into alternative energies is awesome.  (However, I think it’d be a better idea to start placing wind turbines in the Praries.  Have you BEEN out there?  Flat ground, tons of wind.  No fucking brainer.  It’s like putting a hydro-electric plant at the fork of two rivers.  It makes sense in an ecological manner, an economical manner, and a physical [as in physics] manner.  So, yeah, big duh.)

Anyway, I’m just ranting, and there’s not really anywhere to go with this other than…really, people.  I don’t say “Hey, I’ve watched Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, so I know ALL about Savannah, GA.”    Or, “Yeah, I watched The Grudge.  All of Japan is TOTALLY like that.  Especially for white people.”  Why?  BECAUSE BOTH STATEMENTS ARE TOTALLY FUCKING RETARDED.
Jeni out.

The single hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life was give up my selfishness to become a mother.  I know that not every mother does.  It’s not my place to judge, but I do acknowledge it.  I’ve done everything in my power to keep him safe, cared for, and mentally/creatively stimulated.  I’ve drudged through sub-zero temperatures on public busses to take him to doctor’s appointments, sat through endless (seemingly) episodes of horribly dull t.v. shows and cartoons, read The Butter Battle Book so many times that I could probably recite it, and know the demeanor of every major character (and most minor characters) in the Veggie Tales lineup.  Those things aren’t such a huge sacrifice.  But, for someone that was as big of a partier and club kid as I was, giving up that life was.

When I found out that I was pregnant, and after his father decided that I HAD TO HAVE an abortion (obviously didn’t have one) or else, I quit EVERYTHING.  As a matter of fact…I bawled for hours on the steps of Planned Parenthood (what?  Free pregnancy testing done by people who won’t look at you like you’re satan’s spawn, or at the very least carrying it) because, the weekend earlier, I had been partying hard and snowboarding with some friends, and thought I’d seriously injured myself after I landed on a pile of logs, stomach first.  I was absolutely convinced that there was going to be something wrong with the child that was growing inside of me.  I mean, I was a heavy drinker, smoker, smoked so much pot that I was surprised I could open my eyes, and pretty much beat the hell out of my body on a regular basis.

So, in one fell swoop, I quit everything; Smoking, Drinking, pot, partying, boarding….hell, I cut out CAFFEINE.  Those of you who know me will look at that last sentence and scratch your head.  Because, really, who the hell DOES that?  And, then, I ruined my health kick by…well, let’s just say that I had been attempting to be a vegetarian for about a year before this….and my first craving was for something dead and meaty.  I HAD TO HAVE a double whopper, with NOTHING on it…bun on the side, please.

Anyway, I’m going way off track.  When you have a kid…it’s a huge thing.  Comittment doesn’t even begin to describe what it is.  It’s not JUST a comittment.  Your life is on hold.  Sure, you have to live your life, or you go nuts, but the ID that is You is no longer as important as it was before you found out that you had this…this spark, this zygote, this *thing* inside you.

Up until this point, the hardest thing I’d done was to realize that I would never be able to protect him from everything in his life.  I’ve always had that “protector” thing about me.  It was hard to stop protecting my sister, Caitlin, as she’s grown up…I still want to protect her from everything, but she also drives me batshit most of the time.  But, that’s what sisters (and favorite birthday presents ever) do.  But my want to protect Brodie from everything has come from a different place.  I’m *that* mom that WILL kick your ass if you do anything to my child.  Kick your ass as in turn you into my new person-skin rug.  Maybe it’s a good thing that I only have one child, because I’d probably be manic by now if I’d had more at this point.

My point of this blogness?
I miss him.  He’s been living at my mom’s for the past 3 weeks because my truck is broke and I’m out of work.  She lives in his school district, so it’s easier for him to live at my mom’s than anything else right now.

And, now…since work is scarce here…I’m looking elsewhere.  I need to start fresh.  I need to leave, I need to just….I need to find somewhere that has a job, really.  Adrian doesn’t have any.  I’ve applied at restaurants, bars, grocery stores, retail stores, computer repair shops, and everywhere else that had a “job opening” posted.  I can’t very well take him with me while I traipse around the country looking for work.  That, in itself, would be harder on him than anything…and for a kid with sensory issues…that would probably turn 4 years of work with him and erase it.

So…tomorrow, I take the big step of handing over temporary custody of my son…the love of my life…the one and only reason that I’m still here today…to my mother.  This right here….this is the hardest thing I’ve ever thought of doing, and I don’t want to…but I know that it’s in his best interest.  He needs stability.  I have little or none of that.  And, once I get it…I’ll have him again…we can snuggle every day and read, or watch silly movies, or even just talk.  I mean, we had the MOST wonderful conversation today…he’s such a great kid…and I know, I’m biased, but my son is awesome.  He really is.

And I don’t know what I’m going to do without him.

When you commission work by a tradesman, they do the work, regardless of whether you, in the end, pay them or not. It could be 3 hours worth of work, or 300.
Regardless, they’ve done the work.

Now, picture this. You’re working at…wherever you work. Let’s say that it’s an office. You come in to work, do your job, and you do it with a smile. At the end of the week, when your paycheck comes, you notice that you’ve been shorted for 2 days. Being prudent about your own financial situation, you ask WTPF Is going on…..and you get “Oh, well, there should have been more on that check.” Um, DUH.

When you hire someone to do a job, please PLEASE PLEASE, for the love of all that is holy and pure, don’t fucking back out on it. When I work for you, you get what you asked for. I usually put in EXTRA hours to get it done right, and I don’t charge for them. I should start. I should start sending collection agencies out after assholes who don’t pay me for work I do. But that costs ME fucking money.

I hate people. This is why I hole up in my house, and only leave when cool-ass people visit me or get married. This is why I could survive in a bunker in a hole in the ground.

I got this link via a MySpace bulletin….

Now, anyone who’s talked to me for any length of time about porn knows that it’s not the objectification of women that I hate about it.   It’s usually the women in porn that make me hate it.  It’s not that I hate that they’re skinny, or that they have bit boobs, or that their cha-cha’s are perfectly groomed, or that their vulvular areas are prettier than mine.  They talk too damn much, they don’t act like normal women do during sex, and did I mention that they don’t fucking shut up?  So, my enjoyment level goes down because I have to mute it and imagine the hot, sexy, animalian noises they’re making.

So, my problem is this.  Porn today really sucks, mostly because…well, they’re not really having fun in sex the way the rest of us do…or, well, at least like I do.  There are no longing, lustful looks.  There’s definitely no laughing and giggling at the strange noises our bodies make.  There’s no “ow, I can’t move my leg in that direction, scoot your ass over”.

Ever watch the early, black-and-white film era porn?  It’s hillarious.  It’s wild.  Some of it is just downright stupid.  But, it’s entertaining, it’s loving, and, you know, it’s a thousand times better than the shit today.  I say that with as much objectivity as I can right this very minute.  There’s not all this “Oh, yeah, harder, harder, fuck me!!!  Ohhh!!!!  I’m going to cum!!!!” bullshit that you know is 100% fake, and you can tell that the girl’s totally not into it by one minute detail, ladies, especially; You’ve made that face, ladies.  The one where you just want him to get the hell off you so you can get back to your crossword puzzles.  I’ve made that face once in the last month…and thank god that guy doesn’t call back :P  Anyway, yeah.  It’s the face.  The real “OMG, you’re hitting it” face is contorted, and not exactly beautiful.  It’s akward, it’s weird looking, and it’s…..god, I probably look scary as hell when I’m making the face.

Regardless….If you can, look up some of those old titles.  And seriously watch them.  It’s not about being a competitive consumer.

It’s about sex.

And sex….is a beautiful thing.