I hate pork.. I'm sorry. I hate saurkruat, too. And guess what? That's what we had for dinner. Well, not me.. but, you know, that's what the rest of the people living here ate. And I know I have no right to complain when I didn't make anything, but everyone knows that I hate those foods. We had mashed potatos, too. Of all the ways to cook potatos, mashed is my least favorite. In fact, I can't eat them unless they're drenched in gravy. Yeah. Oh well.. it gave me an excuse to leave. I can't even stand the smell of pork. I just keep picturing a huge, smelly animal wallowing in it's own filth.

DAMN IT. My mom knows I can't stand pork. Why the hell didn't she warn me?

Oh well.

talk to meh
IWillOwnYou says: i had to open a door today.
Jen says: omg no way. ::stunned
IWillOwnYou says: lol
IWillOwnYou says: seriously, yes way
Jen says: why? was the automatic handicap thing not working?
IWillOwnYou says: lmao, you are dead on.
Jen says: seriously, you are too lazy
IWillOwnYou says: americans in general are lazy
Jen says: ahah
IWillOwnYou says: what the hell is an escalator for?
Jen says: in case the elevators aren't working ::duh

sexaay
An Illegal Alien says: lmao, Jen, your icon
Jen says: lol seriously ::drool
An Illegal Alien says: when i saw that.. well, you owe me a keyboard
Jen says: hahah..
An Illegal Alien says: casey seen it?
Jen says: totally jealous ::rolleyes
An Illegal Alien says: i won't be able to keep a straight face during his scenes
Jen says: dude.. he's taking over the world.. don't let his sexiness blind you ::dead
An Illegal Alien says: *falls over* ::dead

My Icon: "Sex God"

seriously though.. we love ron rifkin.. it's the whole sloane state-of-mind that makes it hilarious.

Yeah, you know you were scared. You weren't expecting me to write anything until Sunday, eh? Well, honestly, neither was I.. but I've found myself suddenly bored.

And it's not like I really have anything to write about. I mean, this is me we're talking about.

I haven't been feeling well, actually. I'm not sure what it is, it feels like the flu, but it's not that consistant. I mean, I'll feel well one day, and then the next two days I'll get sick. Then well, then sick. It's a vicious cycle. How could I have possibly gotten sick while I've been holed up in my room for a week? Honestly, I don't know. It's probably the obscene amount of Coke I've ingested.

Maybe it's the weather. You know, on Monday and Tuesday it was 70-80 degrees. And Wednesday morning? Snow. And lots of it. About six feet to be exact, and I couldn't get my car up the damn driveway. I mean, I love the snow. Just as long as it stays off the driveway, my car, and the roads. Or, like, maybe if it would snow consistantly.. I wouldn't mind. I hate having my hopes up with perfect weather, and then wake up to six feet of snow.

I finally went to my theatre class. The 'doctor' finally said something about my excessive absences. I was wondering when she would, I've certainly missed enough. She wrote me a little note.. I felt important for about ten consecutive seconds... ten seconds while I read her note.. she wanted to remind me of my "responsibilities". Good Lord. What responsibilities? I'm a fucking usher. My responsiblity is to 'usher' people. I have to wear a costume, too. And introduce the play to the groups of fourth graders.

I have to wear a costume..

I had to pick it out Thursday. Let me just say, Penn State Beaver has some of the ugliest pieces of clothing I've ever seen. The 'seamstress' led me into her lair and started going through the closets. Since the play is The Frog Princemy costume had to be a fairytale-esque dress. Which meant my color choices were basically pink or purple. And ruffles. Lots and lots of ruffles. And since I'm small... well, that made it even worse. Everything was so big, and long, and just ugly. I finally ended up with a pink dress. I felt like a fucking Barbie doll. It was so ridiculous. It's not like I have some plastic pink high heels at home. I haven't worn a dress since I was little. Fuck it, I'm wearing my tennis shoes.

I'm not the costume type.

It's Sunday. And that means I've just seen the new Alias episode. It seems a little odd when two posts back is the previous episode's "review". I need to update this more so I don't seem so obsessed. But anyway, I loved this episode. It's, by far, the best of the season as far as I'm concerned.

By the first commercial break, I notice that I haven't seen Lauren yet. Excellent. Because if I haven't seen her by now, I probably won't see her at all. So, yeah, it's a LAUREN-FREE EPISODE. Is it a coincidence that the best episode of the season, in my opinion, does not include Lauren? I think not.

Marshall didn't get on my nerves this episode. I mean, he was actually amusing, and for that I'm grateful. Because lately? So fucking annoying. His conversation with Vaughn about the bomb? Hilarious. Well, I guess that was mainly Vaughn, but still... it was good. And tripping over the chair... "I swear, I didn't touch anything. But the bomb, well, it sort of started." ...okay, I'll admit, I was laughing. Hee. It's all in the delivery, folks.

Then Vaughn... whew.. I was so afraid of hearing the accent, but it was great. I should have known better. And his side of the bomb conversation? Hee. "Okay cut that one. Wait! No, don't cut that one!"/"Dammit, I hate it when you do that!"/"Cut the red one... No, wait."/"Marshall!" Or something like that. Yeah, it was great. And I just want to say, I was, like, ecstatic when he knocked out Sark. It's about fucking time he beat him.

Sloane and Barnett were disgusting. I'm sorry, they're both wonderful, beautiful actors, but some things should be left to the imagination. Like, they could have.. maybe.. showed her making breakfast or something in the morning... or made vague references that something happened between them... I just.. I didn't need to see that.

Last but not certainly not least, The Hug. I was on the verge of tears, it was so sweet. *sigh* More episodes like this, JJ. Please.

Oh, and I don't want to go to school tomorrow. Spring Break just flew by.. I mean, I don't even remember Tuesday. Seriously, I think we skipped a day.

I'm sure by this point, everyone has noticed my erratic mood swings. I'm not going to lie and say everything's fine, because everything certainly is not fine. But, you know, I'll get myself through it. Writing is therapeutic. And if you haven't guessed already, I'm not in a good mood right now.

I'm sure as this continues I'll start recounting, but I don't feel like any of that right now. The only way I can see myself through this at the moment is self medication. Everytime I see a doctor or therapist or anyone, they had me a prescription for Prozac and send me on my merry way. But you know what? Prozac doesn't help. And I would think they might realize that by now because I'm not getting better; absolutely nothing has changed. It's not a chemical imbalance causing my problem, it's an emotional one. Not in my head, in my heart.

Kiddie movies make me feel so much better, specifically Alice In Wonderland. I'm sure the reasons are obvious. Reading...sleeping... perhaps they help for the same reasons Alice In Wonderland helps. If I'm unable to do any of those, then I drowned out the problems with music.. or space out... it depends on where I am. Sleep has become a problem lately... I usually fall alseep at 5am and sleep until my mom comes home from work. I usually spend the entire day in my room. It's a safe haven. It's the only place I don't have to deal with school, Ben, or anything else. It's my own Wonderland, I suppose.

Anyway, this whole post was spurred by my need to help myself, without a doctor. And I noticed that Trazodone has some interesting side effects. I've never been effected by the side effects of any drug I've used, but I look at them anyway... on the off chance that one of them is "sudden death". But for Trazodone: Nausea, dizziness, insomnia, agitation, tiredness, dry mouth, constipation, lightheadedness, headache, low blood pressure, blurred vision, nightmares, and confusion. Usually, I wake up dazed and confused anyway. Not knowing what the hell I'm supposed to be doing with my life. Well, I know what I'm supposed to do, but I don't know what I want to do. To be honest.. the side effects sound like me in a nutshell. That really scares me, because maybe depression isn't my problem. Maybe it's something worse? Yet, everytime I seek out help, they hand me more Prozac. "Give it time," they say. I gave it five fucking years and nothing has changed, why can't they see that?

I need a break. Maybe I'll edit in the morning, I'm sure I will. It will all sound so ridiculous.

Finally. ABC decided to air a new episode of Alias. I am honoured. No, really.

In retrospect, it was a great episode. The entire season, up to this point, is basically a blur.. and whenever I try to think about it I just feel angry, frustrated, and hopeless. But this episode, this was good.

We get to watch the same story unfold from two perspectives - Syd and Vaughn's, then Lauren and Sark's. The second run of the first mission and subsequent car chase was amazing... I don't know if it was the music or what, but I loved it. The tire screeching? The Mustang? The music? The crash? The getaway? Wait.. do you hear that? That boom? That's my mind blowing. Seriously amazing. But, yeah, even the second mission was awesome. And although Vaughn's "stunning admission" wasn't really that stunning, I enjoyed seeing the look on Lauren's face as he dropped the gun. Hee. It's a good thing her daddy owns that farm because the COW is about to be put to pasture.

And now to Spy Daddy. Just when I think I can't love him any more, I do. The look on his face as he said, "Cute," was priceless. I couldn't tell if he was about to burst out laughing or bitch slap Marshall. I would have enjoyed both. And then he showed up long enough to spend some time with Syd, which was great, considering their relationship is about to be seriously screwed around with.

Which brings me to my next subject of Sloane and Dr. Nancy (yes, I'm calling her that from now on). Sloane's admission, thanks to last episode's previews, was about as stunning as Vaughn's. Yet extremely disturbing. But you have to remember, this is Sloane... and considering what he said to Dr. Nancy last episode, he's obviously manipulating her. Since she wouldn't talk to him about Jack or Sydney in After Six, he's making up a story where she has no choice but to talk about them. Remember what he said about getting the reactions he wants.

There were only a few things I didn't like.. First was the fact that Vaughn didn't recognize Lauren. A husband should be able to recognize his wife's eyes no matter what's on her face. And Dr. Nancy should have been able to see what Sloane is doing. She should be good at mind games.

And I still don't like the fact that highly trained spies such as Jack, Syd, or Vaughn haven't started to suspect Lauren. Between all the evil looks she gives and the fact that she makes calls to the Covenant right in the middle of the CIA ops center, someone *coughJackcough* should have caught her by now.

That is all. Yes, I'm obsessed, addicted, whatever. It could be worse :)

Read Regina's review

It's so nice outside.. really, it's lovely. I was actually inspired to clean out my car... I even washed it. Yeah.... how d'ya like them apples? But.. yeah, it was pretty bad.. I wasn't sure how it was going to turn out... or whether or not I'd emerge from the backseat with all my limbs in tow. Well, anyway, after school I stopped by Walmart and bought some Armor All wipes, car wash, and upholstery cleaner - only the best for my Frank. Yes, that's right, my car's name is Frank. Frank the Tank.

I cleaned it out first. I ended up with two garbage bags full of junk.. a far cry from my record of five.. so, yeah, I was surprised- of course, that's sans trunk. I was amazed at all the shit I could fit in the backseat because there is absolutely no room in the backseat of a Probe. Even if you move the front seats up all the way.. yeah.. no room. So I found a lava lamp buried beneath, like, a gazillion waterbottles. I didn't remember owning a lava lamp, but.. well, finders keepers. The rest was mostly old school papers and unpaid parking tickets, of course, those were stuck to a few half-eaten candy canes so I figured I'd just throw them away. They'll understand.

Then I finally got to put my dustbuster to use. I got it for Christmas from a misguided family member. It lasted about twenty minutes before I had to recharge it. So FYI... twenty minutes translates to the front passenger's seat. Anyway, I took care of everything, eventually... the wipes, the seats, the sweeping. Pfff... let's just say it took awhile. And I think I cut off the food supply of whatever is living under the driver's seat.

When I finally got around to washing, it was starting to get dark, but I was on a roll. Besides, if I didn't finish it then, I wouldn't do it at all. But it was cold.. and the fact that I'm susceptible to disease this time of year made it the most stupid thing I've done this year. Anyway, the only time I ever really look at my car is when I wash it.. and I noticed a few things this time round. First off, I haven't washed my car since last July.. or sometime around then. So there were, like, layers I had to scrub through.

First was the shit layer. This layer consisted of... shit, yes... and some sort of vomit. I kid you not. Since I live in a wooded area, there was deer vomit all over my car. I don't know why the deer seek out my car to regurgitate, but if any of them are reading this: Please stop. It's a bitch trying to scrub it off. I don't even think I got it all off, I'm sure there's still a little left that I have to let soak or something. I don't know. The shit came off with the powerhose.. but the vomit? Required elbow grease.

Eventually I rediscovered that my car is actually red as opposed to shit brown. But I also learned that the cold winter months had taken their toll on poor Frank. The paint is chipping. Ah, it's horrible. I have little silver marks all over the roof and hood. Little yellow marks all over the front bumper. It wouldn't bother me so much if they were small... or inconspicuous... or invisible. And there aren't that many, but the ones that are there are rather large. And my bumper is fading from black to light gray.. where the Armor All used to help, it helps no more. And the mirror that my dad "replaced" is slowly started to return to its original color. I was a sad day for Frank and me. But we'll pull through this, hell, it's what's under the hood that really matters... and Frank's not a little boy if you know what I mean. And I think you do.

So. I put some band-aids on Frank's boo-boos, sprayed some Febreeze, threw in a new air freshener... and we're good to go. I didn't clean the wheels... I should have... but it was a new sponge... and despite the shit'n'vomit, it still has a few car washes left in it. I hosed them down though.

And I'm not sick yet, it's starting to get my hopes up. I feel good.