Where have all of the good guys gone?

I've been asking myself this question for YEARS. Seriously, many of them. Even when I was in a serious, committed relationship, I'd often look at the guy(s) and think . . what am I doing?

[insert photos of me with ex-boyfriends with their faces cut out]

Most of you know, I avoid/despise the idea of blind dating. I find the thought of internet dating absolutely insane. However, I don't seem to be having much luck on my own right now either.

But after finding this voicemail on the blog of another single LDS girl in NYC (whom I blogstalk) I decided that maybe . . just maybe . . I'm better off on my own.




I think I may be single forever.

Blessing and a Curse

No, I'm not talking about my amazing good looks or my astounding crazy wit. Nope, I'm talking about my friendship with Marion (keep reading, you'll eventually understand).


Seriously, she's one of the most amazing, kind, patient people you'll ever meet. And actually, just this morning I realized that I was conceived approximately two weeks after she was born. Here's what I think happened . . .



We were hanging out in Heaven playing flying hopscotch and what not when she decided that it was time for a new adventure - a road trip, if you will - to Earth. So she was born, and I was bored so I went for a visit. At that time said/cooed to me one of two things, either A) "J, this is really cool. You should come too. It'll be so freaking cool." Or B) "J, this is crazy nuts and I don't think I can do it on my own. Please come down too. We can do it together." Being the optimist that she is, I'm going with A - always convincing me I can do things that I really incapable of doing. And so, I came. It took us something like 12 years to find each other again, but we did it.



We've known each other for 22 years and been best friends for 18. (MJ, correct me if I'm wrong, my math skills lack once the sun goes down). We've been through EVERYTHING you can think of together . . dating, boyfriends, ex-boyfriends (and their sweatshirts), middle school, multiple divorces (not our own), high school, research papers, college, cross country trips, snow storms, heat waves, marriages (hers, not mine), babies (hers, not mine), buying houses, getting jobs, losing jobs . . and so much more. And I expect that it will continue for many more years to come.




Earlier this evening, I realized I was out of milk (for shame!) so I ran to the grocery store. Upon getting there, I realized I had remnants of dinner still on my shirt. Feeling like an idiot, I ran into my Bishop. And this time, he actually recognized me. Figures.



Then two minutes later, I saw another woman from my ward. She is in her late 30's, never been married, teaches elementary school, cries in every lesson where they mention kids and/or marriage and writes in her journal during Sunday School about how hard it is to be single in a family based religion (she sad next to me one day and held her journal so that I could read it - trying to bond or something, I suspect). So, I ducked around a corner (yes, I'm evil and MJ would NEVER do such a thing) so that I wouldn't have to talk to her. But before I did, I realized that she was wearing no makeup, a sloppy tshirt, had her hair in a bun and just looked generally sad - aside from the sad part, she pretty much looked a lot like I did, minus the food that was being saved for later. And I thought, "Damn, that's me in 7 years. . ."



And then in my minds eye, I saw us up there in Heaven again and I thought, "This is all Marion's fault."


Sorry about the random smattering of pictures. Eventually, when it's not the middle of the night, I'll come back and make one of those cute collages that MJ makes on her blog - but as of right now, that requires way too much effort.

Drunken SnAILers

My poor flowerbed has been having issues. Everything I planted . . died.


And then one day, I saw one of these:



and one of these:


crawling across one of the only remaining healthy leaves. They were chowing down and leaving a shiny silver treasure map for their slimy friends to follow. This confirmed my suspicions from last summer when I found big holes in the leaves of our tomato plants. Last year and twice this year I've laid down slug and snail bait but it hasn't seemed to do any good. They just keep coming.

In my research I've found that snails and slugs like to breed (with themselves, yes they have both male and female parts and don't need a . . . donor . . . to create more), live and lay eggs in overgrown yards - just like the one next door to my townhouse. The neighbors have been trying to sell their place and it's been empty since last fall so no one takes care of the yard. And sure enough, after their feed, I watched a couple of them slither back through the fence to take shelter from the days sun.

I've come across a couple of decent sounding game plans for said "snug" (get it? Half snail, half slug) problem. Someone suggested keeping a salt shaker in your garden and sprinkling it on them whenever they show up - which I don't doubt works, but they usually feed in the early morning and late at night. I don't know about you, but I've got better things to do with my time than salting slugs. Someone else also suggested using some sort of a poker to stab them with? But again, that would require just hanging out and waiting for them to show up. Not gonna happen. Finally my roommate Melissa made an interesting suggestion. She said she'd heard that if you put out a small bowl of beer overnight they'll be attracted to it, slither in and drowned (or at the very least get a buzz and not be able to make it back to your plants).

So I thought I'd give it a try.

Finally bought my first beer. Only ten years too late for the drunken rebellious stage of life.
The whole time I was standing on the gas station waiting to buy it I was singing that really annoying hot dog commercial song in my head, "With the Miller High Life boiled in. Go meat!"

That's it my transgendered friends . . slide on up to the bar and let me buy you a drink.
(insert devilish laugh here)

I felt it was only appropriate that they die in the shade of what they had killed. How's that for irony?
(Is that technically irony? I don't think it is but I couldn't think of a better word. Blame Alanis.)

Is it bad that I counted the slug carcasses with joyful, childish glee?

Yard Mullet: damage in the front, carnage in the back.
I accept full blame for the lame jokes.
and the accidental rhyming.

Let us pretend that you can't see that dead spot in my new sod that's been caused by the pee of one "Chuck the Wonder Dog".
(I've been researching that too but thus far, have not found any good solutions. If you have one, PLEASE send it my way.)

Apparently, the ants quite like the beer too. Let's see them march in a straight line now. HA!

All in all, I counted 52 slugs between my three plates when I emptied them this morning. And I'm almost out of beer. Those suckers can DRINK. I may have go get some more but I think this time I won't go dressed like trailer trash. And as soon as I hit the grocery store I'm going to try another theory . . sprinkle broken egg shells around your plants. Apparently, they will crawl over the shells, get all kinds of sliced up and bleed out. Painful, but necessary (and cheaper). Slug impaled by shell. That could make for some interesting photos too.


PS I was having a hard time naming this blog post because I'm mental like that and in my sleepy daze, I came up with many others that I like so I thought I'd share:

It's Miller time!
Chugs & Slugs
Slugs on a Bender
Bugs on a Bender
Chuggin' Slugs
Beer! It's what's for dinner (and for breakfast, apparently).
The Great Slug Slaughter

Ode to Hot Cops

Why is it that every time I get pulled over, or get a flat or break down somewhere it's always the old gray haired, chubby cops that are there? This afternoon I was driving down Highway 89 and saw a car that was broken down on the side of the road. And while I felt bad for them, as breaking down does suck, the cop that stopped to help them was nothing short of B U I L T and H O T. So I ask again, where were you when I got pulled over in I-15 for doing 96 in a 75? Sigh.

Spider (Wo)man

So I woke up one morning last week with two HUGE spider bites on my right arm. Please forgive the low quality picture. I took it with my phone. And since the lighting was so bad, I outlined the bites so you could see them better. Yup, I'm amazing that way.

I pulled off my sheets and changed them (even though the ones that were on there were clean and I'd just put them on the day before . . hhm . . maybe that's where the spider came from) and went on with my day.

Within 24 hours, both bites had two tiny blisters in the middle of them which I imagine is where the evil spider injected it's super power inducing venom into my arm. And then the pain started - it spread all of the way up into my elbow. Not my idea of a good time.

Now, I don't know if the evil spider was the freakin' HUGE ant I found crawling across my ceiling or if it was this mother of a bug I found in my closet a couple of days later . .

Now let me clarify . . the spider DID NOT come with the Sobe cap. So don't go plastering this all over the internet and saying that someone found this inside their drink and the health department is shutting them down. It's not true. A friend of mine gave me the cap because I drive a Jetta and often wear a ponytail (how appropriate is that?!?) and I had it taped to my computer at work - but now, it sits in my closet, amongst the spiders.

I had to include that last one so that you could see the sack of eggs that she was protecting with that massive web. Can you imagine that breaking loose in my house?!? Next step . . filling the cap with spider killer.

PS I'm pretty sure my spider induced super power is invisibility as that once again, I was standing in line at a fast food joint and the clerk looked right past me and asked for the order of the person behind me. That can only happen so many times before my ego takes a hit. From here on out I think I may have to avoid restaurants where you have to look up at the menu.

Fortune Cookie Update

It's been over a month, and absolutely nothing (except for my sleeping schedule) has changed. So much for the fortune cookie gods.

Damn you, drunk Chinese men! *Sigh* Who knows, maybe the gray haired lady had an excellent May. I sincerely hope someone's problems got better.

ttfn (which is the only appropriate sign off after my last post),
Jj

And you thought your family was embarrassing . .

So wrong that I just had to share. Follow the link, so worth the time.