Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The Art of Picking a Pack of Fickle Peppers

is nothing sacred to you people?

i hope not.

this is hardly the place for such a discussion.

what’s with people saying ‘holy shit’?

i mean, are we all really talking about religious poop?

as a rule of thumb, i don’t like fart or pooping humor.

but i hardly ever use my thumb to measure, so who’s to say?

for something so small, thumbs sure are a bossy bunch.

the thumb has really taken a hit since the decline of hitchhiking.

you should try to avoid mooning a police officer.

the weather makes me feisty.

and sleepy.

which really confuses those in my life.

i am morally opposed to umbrellas.

if i have to be caught, i prefer to be caught in the rain.

then everyone suffers.

even though i appreciate my personal space, i would certainly not mind if i had a professional masseuse side-kick.

i hate the kindness guilt trip.

you know the one i mean, the “i was so nice to you, but now i’m incredibly inconvenienced so you should feel bad for me, oh no, i couldn’t possibly hear of any repayment because that would take away from the massive aren’t i awesome and don’t you suck guilt trip i plan on giving you for the next 4-5 weeks”

not that this has ever happened to me.

i am excited for baseball season to start.

gives me another reason to yell really loud and drink beer at the same time.

america’s pastime indeed.

once when i was working at a restaurant i got a note from a drunk guy written on the check. the note said “my name is mike, my heart was recently broken. i'm looking for someone that i can treat like a princess....or just stick my dick can decide. call me at ###-####”

i did not call him (shocking, right ladies?) but i thought the note was sweet.

men really know how to romance a girl, don’t they?

this week in jenna theatre – jenna is running on the treadmill. some guy comes up next to her and looks over at jenna’s pace. he’s decked out in what looks like brand new shoes and goes through his stretching routine, clearly having missed the deodorant routine and looks back at jenna’s treadmill again. he sets his to the same speed and incline. jenna is doing interval training today so she increases her speed. the man next to her sees this and increases his speed. jenna then lowers her speed for recovery, the man does the same. this is repeated several times. he is clearly not able to run the same workout as jenna, but that is not stopping him from trying. he is now panting and sweating and half hunched over, holding onto the sides of the treadmill, swearing. normally, this wouldn’t have bothered jenna, except he kept leaning over her treadmill bars to look at her speed. annoyed and eager to finish her workout, jenna ramps up the speed to knock out the last few minutes and the man does the same. if he was having trouble before, this was a new level of hell for him. suddenly, the speed wins and the man goes flying off the back of the treadmill in the most beautiful turn of events.

sometimes things work out better than you ever could have hoped for.

and sometimes, even a little bit better.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

The Art of Forgetting What You Forgot

the minute you realize you don’t have anything, is the minute you realize you need something.

sometimes something is better than nothing, but nothing can be better than everything.

so, something has to change.

change can only come in twos.

or is it threes? i was never very good at math.

or clichés.

although everyone knows i spend my days swimming in them.

i guess that’s why they’re clichés.

such a clichéd response.

never fear, before you know it, i will probably change my mind.

i hope you don’t mind.

sometimes i fear i’ve lost my damn mind again.

well, i guess if you’ve lost your mind, you can’t really mind much after that.

mind over matter only matters when the matter is simply in your mind.

am i making too much sense for an early morning commute?

don’t worry, it’s all in your mind.

i think my mind’s eye might need glasses.

the future is blurry.

hindsight is rarely 20/20, despite what your optometrist might try to tell you, it is clouded with regret and hope, which only makes sense in your mind.

so never mind, on to happier thoughts.

i always seem to be around people when they are feeling the most like farting.

i know this because i am constantly smoked out of subways and elevators.

some would think of this as a curse.

i would agree.

or, if you were a glass half full kinda person, you could look at it like a continuing epidemic where people feel completely at ease around me and trust me with their natural gases.

but then again, when have i ever been a half glass full kinda person?

just the other day i was thinking to myself that i haven’t been inadvertently flashed in awhile.

what is this world coming to?

you’re going soft on me new york.

no pun intended.

this week in jenna theatre, jenna is getting a wrap from the deli where she goes for lunch several times a week. the man behind the deli counter, marcus, is excited to see jenna when she appears.
marcus – hello! how are you today? i’ve missed you! what will it be, the usual?
jenna – yup, sounds great!
marcus – so that white bread..
jenna – no whole wheat wrap..
marcus – (interrupting) oh right, sorry, pastrami, tomato…
jenna – umm no, actually turkey, lettuce…
marcus – (interrupting) oh, right i got you now
(starts to pull out pickles)
jenna – no pickles, just spicy mustard and oil and vinegar.
marcus – and ranch right?
jenna – no…
marcus – southwest sauce?
jenna – nope just mustard.
marcus – ok (finishes wrap) it will be a few minutes for the fries.
jenna – i’m good….
marcus – oh that’s right, no fries! ok, well, see you tomorrow!

i wonder who he thinks i am.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

The Art of Delaying Deadly Farts in Public

do you ever have delayed moments of greatness?

how come people say, ‘i'm all ears’ when clearly that is not the case?

why doesn’t anybody ever say ‘i'm all eyes’?

maybe deaf people do.

i've lost it.

don't tell me it's somewhere. i looked somewhere and i didn't find it.

the funny thing about going somewhere over the rainbow is that it’s still the same fucking place it was before, except this time, there’s a rainbow in your way.

what goes up, must come down.

ever hear of a little thing called gravity?

suck it, dorthy.

now if you want to go somewhere above the rainbow, that’s another story.

there is a woman at my work who laughs at everything i say.

while i know i can be outrageously funny, i don’t think i’m that funny all the time.

when does a complement become mockery?

when does mockery become a complement again?

don't you hate when things can come full circle and you can do nothing to stop it?

i'm all for the circle of life, i just hate to think that that circle includes poop.

it does, don't fucking kid yourself.

i think the old man i'm sitting next to right now might have started that cycle of life in his pants.

never joke about self-defecation.

it is not nearly as charming as self-deprecation, and a whole helluvalot smellier.

i can’t help but laugh at myself now and then.

people say it’s good for the soul.

i laughed out at myself on the subway yesterday after i managed to fall down the last stairway and someone yelled at me to get serious about subway safety.

i told them if there was anything in this world, i was serious about, it was subway safety.

perhaps this would be a good time to revisit my silent theme.

it's hard to get serious on your own.

if you want a seriously good time, then perhaps love is not in your game plan.

it’s always about the games when the heart is involved, best to leave it out of the equation.

i hate when people tell me to get a game plan when i'm not playing a game.

it’s called a GAME plan for a reason.

hit me up when i'm playing freakin monopoly or table tennis, not when i'm trying to decide what to order for lunch.

then it's not a game plan, it's a lunch plan.

you can plan all you want, but things rarely go as planned.

things can only go off without a hitch, when people change their minds.

and, as one who's seen the game plan, i know.

i’m not left expecting much.

although, i do wish my microsoft office would stop changing the font on me randomly.

this week in jenna theatre, jenna is trying to make it through her life as a red-head the day of st. patrick's day. in the elevator for work, a man starts to talk to jenna.
man – so, big day for you, huh?
jenna – excuse me?
man – your people’s big day. planning on joining the parade?
jenna – oh. i’m not irish, but i wish i could see the parade.
man – you’re not irish, but you have red hair.
jenna – yea….l’oreal
man – oh, so you got your hair from your mother? was she irish?
jenna – oh. no. it’s…what?
man – and green eyes…
jenna – well, those are natural.
man – have you started drinking yet? i hear most people are bringing guinness to work today.
jenna – wish i had thought of that…
man – hey you’re not wearing green! does this mean people can pinch you?

you can’t always get what you want, but sometimes you can get what you need, if what you need is gentle harassment and lots of moments of awkwardness.

(on a personal note, to the man who has meant so much, i raise my glass of vodka and say nostoriva, may you finally have peace, you will be missed, dopóki nie spotkamy sie ponownie)