you can't get blood from a turnip

...because, as Janessa so astutely points out, you can really only get turnip from turnip. Unfortunately, this turnip has run dry. I read somewhere that single women in the U.S. on average spend all but like $30 of their total annual income, and judging from the last month, I can believe it. Within a day of depositing my paycheck I had about $30 to last me till the next one. And nary a shoe, purse, or new article of clothing to show for it. This is mainly due to the fact that I'm attempting to be responsible and allocate funds (after paying the staggering monthly bills) for Vegas on the 8th and finishing my latest tattoo on the 1st, but being responsible sure makes for boring weekends.

I saw a fat woman on the corner Saturday with a sign saying "Pregnant...please help." If she was pregnant, then I'm an asshole, because I just looked at her misshapen stomach tire and thought to myself "Liar." And if that was indeed a human baby that made that shape under your t-shirt, madam, then I am sorry I passed you with Erasure blaring out of my open windows. I might just have to start standing on a few corners myself to make ends meet...

a new low

Last Sunday night on my way back from the beach I was struck down like the heathen that I am with a stealthy and unexpected virus. It began with dizziness and a feeling like I was being pumped with air, much like a bicycle tire. As soon as I got home, I barely stumbled up the stairs without passing out and threw myself on the bed, salty beach clothes and all. I slept uncomfortably from 7:30 till 10:30, when the floodgates opened and the sandwich I had eaten 8 hours earlier demanded its exit, still mostly intact. This carried on for way too many hours into the night, until finally I was able to sleep without being woken up by the spins.

I went to work Monday morning although it took way too much effort to dress myself and put on makeup. After dealing with a huge accounting error that couldn’t have come at a better time, I finally went home at one and called Janessa in order to be coddled like the baby I am. I was starving, but a little unsure of what might be acceptable to my system. So the obvious choice was Sweet Tomatoes. Followed by a dinner of barbecued chicken and corn. All I will say about the outcome of that…I can no longer say I’ve never had an “accident”. I don’t know how I feel about that, it’s embarrassing but strangely refreshing. Anyway, my stomach problems continued through Tuesday so I decided not to release that thunder on the office and stayed home. Tuesday night I finally tried eating again, and praise be to jebus, it stayed in. I was so hungry from my ordeal that I actually dreamt about eating McDonalds. I think that sums up the desperation of my experience.

After not having nourishment for 3 straight days, I can tell you that the body starts to revolt when performing basic functions like walking, standing, and raising one’s arms. But after that experience, I find it quite fitting that rather than easing back into the eating circuit, I launched right in with a Wednesday night feast at La Fondue and Thursday night burgerfest at the Counter. Bring on the weekend!

a picture's worth a thousand words...but I'll write some anyway

In chronological order…the first set are from Janessa’s “I finally got my license” celebration. Please note the Special Olympics “winner” ribbon Laura provided along with a motivational card outlining her successes.








Afterwards, Brian demonstrated how not to eat chocolate fondue.





Now on to the first birthday of the 2 week birthdayfest. Janessa is wearing a steering wheel cover she got as a present, and eating another gift.











Then came Laura’s birthday Black & Tan party. The black and tan’s varied in contrast from mostly black and light, to black and lighter black, to cloudy brown.











Lizzie’s visit from NY…and a shiny new haircut for baby.








And here are the bulk of the pictures from the 4th of July We Love America patio BBQ and Confetti Free For All

First, the food…








Somewhere at the beginning of the afternoon we decided to see how many cheetos could be fit into a human mouth. First attempt: Janessa with 6, or was it 8?





Second attempt: Carol and Laura, with I think 10 or 12…








Then came Erin and Erica, with I have no idea how many because I was laughing too hard…








And because Brian doesn’t do anything he can’t win at, here is the Brian series with a whopping 30 cheetos in one mouth. It’s a good thing he didn’t need help because none of us knew the Heimlich. Avert your eyes, children!











Random pictures taken between the time I got drunk and the time I sobered up



































Some of the food missed our mouths and ended up two stories below in the parking lot. Behold, the fallen/thrown chicken wing, who was later joined with his brothers the hot dog bun, hamburger patties, chips, beer, and god knows what else.





I noticed this later, if you can read the sign above Carol and Dave, you will see that we were grossly violating the rules of the patio. July 5, 2008 headline: “25 twenty-somethings fall to their deaths after disobeying clearly marked balcony safety guidelines”





Dave’s tiny hat under a bigger hat really never got old. It’s too bad the ones we have of the hat on Franklin the Cat weren’t on my camera.





And what party wouldn’t be complete without Janelle and I doing what we do best








What, you might ask, was the cause of Janelle’s intense glee? Why, Neil Diamond, of course!





Here’s Janelle on my birthday imitating Sheba sleeping.





And I couldn’t resist the cuteness…





That was exhausting. Good thing no more pictures should be necessary until Vegas in August.

and now back to our regularly scheduled broadcast

The four day weekend was lovely. It was just long enough to rejuvenate the mind, body, and spirit, at the same time allowing for intense liver pollution and constant gorging of the stomach. I don't think an hour went by that I didn't have some tasty morsel in my mouth or some libation in hand. And yet, I still managed to get some fitness in as well, which is actually kind of disgusting.

5 Stars go to Erica and Dave (ok let's face it, mostly Erica) for hosting a most fantastic 4th of July party at their swanky abode in Belmont. Three cheers for the aptly named snacks, streamered straws, multi-light American flag, and delicious hamburgers/chicken wings/caramel apple slices. I will admit that after shoveling snacks into my face from 4:30PM to about 6:30, I then devoured the meat selection. The hamburgers were so good that I ate two before I realized what I was doing, and then later spied the flag foil tin that held the remaining patties and grabbed one, cold and naked, and swallowed it down. Janelle and I brought hot dogs, and after Janelle half cooked four of them for the two of us, topped off with another burger, I began to feel the shame. Which of course, didn't stop me from eating the birthday cake Erica surprised me with, which hands down was the best birthday cake ever and totally amazing of her to have done. The downside of a great party like this is the cleanup, which Janessa assured me was going to be quite the undertaking. I promise I didn't participate in the confetti spraying...although I can't say the same for the "let's see how far we can hurtle this food item off the balcony" event. If that's not a sign of a good time, I don't know what is.

We went to Paragon for my birthday celebration, which I must say was kind of a mistake having on Saturday since everyone was totally done in from the day before. But since I am none too pleased about being 29 anyway, the mellowness worked out fine. The last time I was sober for my birthday, I think I was 20. It's all downhill from here...

I somehow volunteered myself for a four hour hike on Sunday, and I can tell you from experience that there are tons of better ways to spend one's birthday. But it was great when it was over and at least we can all say we accomplished something. My thighmeats are still a little sore from all the inactivity at work, but I would do it again. This time I would eat beforehand though, since two celeries and a graham cracker don't quite sustain the body in a 1K elevation climb. Kudos to Laura for being a super little trooper after twisting her ankle, yet refusing to let us fashion a stretcher out of sticks to carry her all the way down. We all made it out alive and although I didn't capture the lizard I had hoped for, it was still a successful trip.

I now have exactly one month to prepare my liver for Vegas. My goal is to make at least three stiff drinks a night, so I can ease into the 20 cocktail a day deathfest that Vegas invariably is. I should probably order the transplant now so it's in the mail by the time I get back...

is it too much to ask

for my Hillshire Farms processed chickenmeats to separate nicely for placement atop the salami on my sandwich? Apparently it is, because trying to separate the "slices" results only in shredding the chicken ball into smaller lumps. This makes it pretty difficult to achieve the elusive goal of the perfect and delicate chicken/salami balance.

Stay tuned for next week's episode of Jennifer Vs. Inanimate Food Items: the Plot Thickens.

If I had a million dollars...

I'd camouflage those unsightly water meters in front of my house.

I was taking a nice long stroll at lunch time to counteract the intense eating, drinking and week-long gym avoidance that come standard with family/friend birthdayfest 2008, when I confirmed that yes, the Menlo Park/Atherton area IS as pretentious as it looks at first glance. As I walked past the 453rd extravagant palace equipped with matching BMWs in the front driveway, I noticed that not only was each home beautifully and emaculately landscaped, (they weed in their spare time, I'm sure) but many of them had matching "rocks" near the sidewalk. Upon closer inspection, I realized that these rocks had keyholes in the back, and stood on cement pedestals. Heaven forbid Mr. and Mrs. Lane P. Harringsworth the Third have the view outside their receiving room window marred by repulsive water meter boxes! It just isn't proper!

It got me thinking...who sells these artificial water meter rocks? And where can I get one for my third story apartment? Because if ever there was a symbol of wealth to excess, throwing money down the drain on something to fool the average passerby into thinking you don't use water is right up there. And I want that kind of image.

stomach of steel/ is it really June already??

First and foremost...what the hell is happening to this year? I mean, am I the only one who is worried that somehow my life is passing me by as the months are hurtling past at the speed of light? Sweet baby jesus.

And now I will make with the storytelling.

This morning I finally got to eat that yogurt I brought in to work last week. In passing, I looked at the label which had the "best by" date imprinted on it. May 11. Only a couple weeks past its prime, and I am (as proven countless times) by no means picky. I may or may not have noticed a strange flavor as I was eating it over the course of the next hour and a half, but once it started to become lukewarm it was pretty hard to tell. I have accustomed my stomach over the years to keep foods down that really it shouldn't have ingested in the first place, and I am fairly certain I could eat poison at this point and at most suffer only minor heartburn.

I had a bunch of stuff to do mid-day, and just got back into the office not too long ago. Since I'm spinning tonight, I was planning on eating a semi-healthy lunch of a chicken sandwich. Now I've had this chicken lunch meat in my possession for quite some time. So long, in fact, that I can't even remember exactly when it was purchased. But I've eaten old meat before, and my stomach is strong (see above.) Therefore, I wasn't worried. I strutted confidently into the office kitchen and set about preparing the sandwich. Two pieces of bread extracted from the loaf. Gulden's brown mustard applied liberally to one side and then smashed together to cover both slices. Pepper jack cheese liberated from the paper backings. Safeway deli chicken breast slices placed carefully atop the chee...wait a second. Does chicken normally have slimy tan patches across its surface? I know I'm not the most observant of people, but I really don't remember seeing anything like that ever before. I went to touch the meat, which we all know is the final test in determining its freshness. It was completely slimy, so much so that I had to immediately wash my hands lest I vomit. Apparently, four weeks is too long to keep lunch meat and expect to eat it.

I am now eating a cheese and mustard sandwich. Thank god it's hard to tell the jalapeno pepper flakes from the mold.