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The other night I was at the park with Kristi and Tyler playing basketball. It was a regular old night, but I turned to look at the lake, and had to take a picture. I've grown up with this park and this lake, and not once have I thought of it as especially pretty...but Friday night...it was.
And then...18 mosquitoes bit me at once and ruined the moment. But...for a minute at least, I was totally in love with nature. Hee hee.
So...the weekend didn't go quite as I had expected. I knew that I was going to dye my hair...my roots were getting pretty out of control. I knew that I was going to watch a mini Golden Girls marathon, as I'd gotten the second season on DVD during the week, and seriously...that show NEVER gets unfunny.
One thing that I didn't know was that, on the way to play basketball with Kristi and Tyler, I would happen to spot a fun black Chevy Equinox during a quick stop at the GM dealership, and end up driving it home that afternoon.
But...that's what happened. Woohoo! I'm so so excited. Everything kind of fell together and it was way too easy breezy for me not to do it. :)
Here is the Equinox on the Dealership Lot:
And here it is, home in the driveway:
What a SUPER Saturday! :)
I'm considering "I want to go for a ride" requests as they come in...so submit yours via email or blog comment today!
...But I TOLD that instructor that I wasn’t very good with plants when she gave it to me…
Does anyone know how to save a nearly dead…um…whatever plant this is? I don’t WANT it to die. I water it. Admittedly, it’s not in the sunshine, but that is because the putting it in the sunshine would put it in plain sight of said instructor when she comes into the office, and I don’t want her to see that I’m torturing the poor thing.
Considering that I have been in school or working pretty much all of my life...I have never been much of a daytime TV watcher. With that in mind, I can probably count on both hands the number of times I've watched Oprah Winfrey over the years. Still, the fact that I've never been a fan of her show doesn't prevent me from following the timeless piece of wisdom that:
"When Oprah Calls...You Answer."
(Yes, that IS a Peyton Manning finger puppet that I made this afternoon. It's probably my most impressive craft project of all time. Seriously.)
Last night I was over at Kristi's house, and one of my contacts was bothering me. I went into the bathroom, took some contact solution off the shelf, and took my contact out. After rinsing it thoroughly, I went to put it back in. As soon as the contact barely touched my eye, I almost had a heart attack. It was burning SOOOO much. Honestly it felt like I had poured rubbing alcohol in my eye. From like, one drop of the liquid. It just kept burning and burning and burning. I cannot put into words how much it hurt. But it hurt...A LOT.
Turns out, that instead of saline solution, I had cleaned my contact off with this:
Looks like contact solution, right? Well…I failed to notice this warning on the side of the bottle:
This solution needs at least six hours to neutralize. Do not rinse lenses with Clear Care® prior to inserting lenses into your eyes. If you want to rinse lenses, use a sterile saline like Softwear® Saline. Do not squirt Clear Care® directly into your eyes.
So…yeah…basically it is solution for overnight cleaning. And I put the unneutralized solution in my eyes. Which makes me think of perm solution. Which, honestly, I think if I’d put perm solution in my eye…it wouldn’t have hurt any more than this did.
So…I rinsed the contact with water, and with regular saline and then put it in my eye. And it STILL felt just as bad. Burn burn burn. You see, because it still hadn’t been six hours. My eye was watering like crazy, and the left side of my face was covered in smeared mascara. I looked like Alice Cooper. I’m so freaking stupid. Finally I just threw the contact out…and got a spare one out of my purse and put it in. And it felt fine...(as fine as it could feel, under the circumstances)…but my eye still hurts. This morning it’s still bright red.
So...as a public service announcement...don't put non-saline solution in your eyes. Now you know. And now I know. And thankfully I got the glam rock makeup off my face. You have to count the little blessings, after all.
My name is Janine. I don't feel like it's THAT hard of a name to say or to understand. Juh-neen. Pretty simple. That being said, here is a list of names that I have been called while in my current job...many of them more than once:
Jamie
Jeanette
Shirley
Daneen
Jolene
Susan
Janie
Jan
Doreen
AND...the name that I was JUST called...which prompted this impromptu post:
Jermaine. 
Seriously?
Come ON.
So...I feel bad when I stop by the blog and see that anyone has visited that day...only to find that my most recent post is over a month old. Sorry about that...I'll try to do better. Which, of course, I say all the time...and don't always follow through with...but...take it or leave it.
Lately, I've been kind of engrossed in Football...more so than usual. So...to get back in the blogging swing of things...I thought I'd list some awesome football related facts and musings:
**FIRST AND FOREMOST: With a win over our "Border War" rivals, CSU, the Wyoming Cowboys are Bowl Eligible for the first time...well, in a long time. Woohoo!! We've had a couple of really frustrating games this season, but I'm so so happy to see it end on a happy note...and if we get a Bowl Game, that will be the icing on the cake. Most signs point to us heading to the New Mexico Bowl and playing Fresno State. Kristi and I discussed the possibility of jetting down to Albuquerque to watch the game. This might depend on if I spend ALL of the money in my bank account on Christmas presents in the next day or so. Which is a real possibility. Seriously.
**I have found myself engrossed in the NFL season this year more than I've ever been in the past. Traditionally, I've been more of a College football fan...but this year, the NFL has got me excited. And excited in more ways than the usual "Holy Crap, Peyton Manning is SO HOT" ways. I am really getting wrapped up in the games every week. This may be due to the fact that I've been included in the office pool this year, and don't want to make a fool of myself...but who's to say? You never know when a bug is going to bite you, right?
**In the aforementioned office pool, I won this past week's grand prize of $7.00. That's right...there IS a decimal after that first digit. I didn't win 70 dollars. I didn't win 700 dollars. I won 7 dollars. Is there any wonder why the stakes of this pool have motivated me to be so NFL-savvy all of the sudden? Yeah...it's pretty obvious.
**Over Thanksgiving my family decided to play flag football for the first time. Well...it was the first time I've been involved anyway. I think I only touched the ball one time, and I never tackled anyone...but I'm pretty sure that I am going to get called up to the FFML (flag football major league) any time now. I mean...I only threw one interception in the whole game. I think that's better than Tom Brady can say about HIS performance this week.
**Is it just me, or does Sean Payton, head coach of the New Orleans Saints, look JUST like Kenny Chesney? I mean...it's uncanny. No...I don't know how many yards anyone rushed for in their game against the Patriots...but the Payton/Chesney connection haunted me all night.
**Bill Belichick might want to re-think his sweatshirts with the sleeves cut off for next week. When you're playing an undefeated season, you can make all the horrible fashion decisions you want...but when you're falling apart like nobody's business, you should at least try to LOOK good on the sidelines...since your coaching decisions are looking HORRIBLE in the game. Just a thought.
That might be it. I could go on and on about my love for the game, I'm sure...but I've got $7.00 burning a hole in my pocket, and I might just have to jet to Vegas instead of Albuquerque to spend it...I'm feeling lucky!
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If anyone asks you about an apparent smudge in the freshly painted door frame in Student Services across the hall from my office...I've prepared a response for you:
“A smudge in the freshly painted door frame? Huh? That’s so weird. Well…if I know one thing, I know that it couldn’t have possibly been Janine. If it HAD been Janine, that would have meant that she stood there, watching the painter paint that door frame maroon, and then, 8 seconds after he walked away, she would have grabbed onto said frame to brace herself while she leaned over to look at the pictures in the switchboard operator’s biography about Bette Davis. Like Janine, of ALL people, would do that. A classy, smart, and totally together broad like her? Please…”
...it was bound to happen sooner or later. I do live in Wyoming, after all.
I woke up to the first snowfall of the fall. Or, as I like to call it, the first of many times that I have to clean my freaking car off when I'm already running 10 minutes late.
I always cross my fingers for later...rather than sooner. I wouldn't mind if it snowed on Christmas Eve, and Christmas Eve alone. But...nothing ever turns out how I want it to.
So in case you've been checking my blog daily and then cursing to yourself at the sight of the angry tooth pirate guy...again...then you should know that when a girl is in the midst of an epic battle, against ruthless and terrifying foes, in defense of her territory, she cannot be bothered to blog.
Translation: I've got mice. Effing mice. Oh, how I hate them. And I know it's all Fall's fault...stupid cooler weather...but I hate seeing them...they make my skin crawl. It might be even worse when I don't see them...but I HEAR them...ugh...not knowing where they are...expecting them to swarm out of the walls and crawl up my leg and kill me. Or...at least poop on my floor. Not sure which is worse. But I'm living a nightmare right now. In case you care.
Mice, of course, do not prevent me from blogging at all. I'm just lazy, I think...but, also, other than the screams and squeals that I emit when I see the little buggers, I've got nothing of real entertainment value to report. So why report the mice? Well...basically,I saw another one last night and felt like whining about it. And, if you don't like listening to me whine...or reading my whiney words, I guess...you probably wouldn't EVER read my blog in the first place. :)
I've attached a video of a casualty from my first battle of the week:
At the time, I was hoping he was a loan scout, and that when he didn't return, the other mice would realize that I was a foe that was not to be tested...and clear off. Instead, I think he was kamikazi-esque soldier sent as a sacrifice to distract me while the others set up camp.
Don't worry...I've got my game face on...I'm sure that I'll be victorious in the end. If you don't hear from me for a while...at least you'll know I'm bravely caught up in a valiant cause...even if I'm squirming and screaming the whole time.
So...by reading my blog, one might think that my greatest fear is a bad hair day. Or perhaps, getting stuck inside a tanning bed. While those both rank in the top five, I have to admit that even higher on my list of greatest fears is going to the Dentist. I won't get into my long LONG story...because I'm sure you don't care...but the bottom line is that I've been to the dentist several times and not been numb when they've worked on me. I'm hard to numb. Which REALLY sucks.
But...after bouncing around, always afraid, and not really trusting anyone not to torture me for a while, I found a dentist who I really loved. He helped me get past my fear and always took care of me and got me numb and really got me to a good "I'm not terrified of the Dentist anymore" place.
And then...he retired.
And now...I have a toothache.
So...I have to go to someone new, and I HATE the thought of going to someone new. This is the worst day ever. Okay...not EVER. But this week...for sure. But...it's not to be avoided...as ending up with a toothless smile is the GREATEST fear of any self-respecting vain girl like myself.
Cross your fingers that I'll survive.
Just the other day I was sitting at work, and I was giving myself a mental pat on the back as I realized it had been quite a while since I’d spilled my drink across my desk. I’m not especially known for my grace…and spilling things is just one of those things that I do. But I sat there thinking that I’d turned over a new leaf…and let me tell you, it was gratifying.
So of course I totally spilled my water all over my desk this afternoon. I can’t be proud of myself for long before sabotaging it. It’s a subconscious desire to keep myself humble, I think.
After cleaning up the wet paper and setting my mouse pad out to dry, I realized my mouse wasn’t working as well as I wanted it to…you know…without a mouse pad. So I asked the gal I work with if we had any spare mouse pads in the storage closet. After telling me that we didn’t, and asking if I needed one permanently or temporarily, she pulled this out of her purse and gave it to me to use until mine dries out:
Um…
First off…do people do this? Carry spare mouse pads in their purses? I mean…if they DO…how did I miss out on this trend? I always thought that if I got caught with my Vin Diesel mouse pad in my purse I’d get laughed at. If only I had known…
Secondly…I feel a little weird showcasing a mouse pad featuring a deployed soldier and twin boys on my desk. You know? Not many people have such a mouse pad…unless they have even a remote connection to said soldier and said twins. Having it on my desk kind of feels like it would if I were caught buying a frame and just displaying the picture that it came with, and passing that happy looking couple off as my friends and/or family. I mean, how pathetic would that be?
All I’m saying is that I prefer that the pictures on my desk…including those featured on my mouse pad represent who I really am…nothing more...nothing less. Kind of like this one, that hangs on my office wall:
Misrepresenting yourself is so lame.
The girls in the office just heard that CU just sent home 60 students due to the Swine Flu. KU sent some home, too. Some other school, too. The bottom line is that they are freaking out. Freaking out and wearing masks.
I don’t want to take the subject lightly…I certainly don’t want to get the Swine Flu. But if there is one way to define me…(other than the tanning bed’s eternal lover/mortal enemy)…it is vain. In spite of the slight appeal of being able to make unseen faces at dumb or stinky people standing in front of me, I can’t get myself to wear the mask. How dorky would I look? There is no way my hair wouldn’t get messed up. Please. Not to mention the fact that I don’t carry 18 different lip glosses in my purse just to hide their fruit-i-licious shine behind a mask.
If I’m the first to go, so be it…but I’ll go down with my cute nose showing and my face free of mask induced welts. It’s called standing up for what you believe.
