I really <3 listening to Bon Iver when it's raining.

Skinny Love:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ssdgFoHLwnk&feature=youtube_gdata_player

When tattoos and fast food meet

Courtesy of Tosh.0 blog:

http://m.comedycentral.com/tosh_blogstory.rbml?id=http://tosh.comedycentral.com/blog/2012/05/24/10-taco-bell-tattoos-to-start-your-day-off-right/

Stop Human Rights Violations in Burma!

Please join me in taking action to stop the violence and human rights abuses happening in Burma.

In the ethnic areas of Burma, people are living every day in fear of their own government.

Innocent children, women and men are being targeted by the Burmese army.

Villages are being destroyed, civilians are being murdered and humanitarian aid is being limited.

Meanwhile, our Congress is currently debating whether or not to keep sanctions against Burma.

If they lift all sanctions, in the midst of this violence it will reward and exacerbate the inhumane behavior perpetrated by the Burmese government against innocent civilians.

We must tell Congress that human rights must be upheld in Burma before sanctions are lifted. PLEASE click here to take action: http://bit.ly/MJRQqh.  All you're doing is sending a letter to your representative. 

<3

Better today with regard to the hot one. I decided that I can not even entertain the idea of liking him because we work together. So no longer will it be about him liking me or him being single or even him being hot. He's my manager, genderless and plain. That's the smart way to look at things.

Red Rocks is getting closer to resolution. Yay! ^_^

My ass is killing me today. Lol. From working out, NOT from back door adventures.

George and Shmevin seem to be doing well.

New car is awesome. Work is better since my recent change in frame of mind.

Excited for dinner and drinks with Erik and Pressssssston, camping, and three day weekend!

=^_^=

New car is good and nice - not the MDX I wanted but it's still good.  :)

Back to work and bored as ever.  I just sat here for probably fifiteen minutes zoning out.  So I decided to post something. 

I made these delicious little jalepeno and cheese wontons last night.  Spicy!  I ate them at 10:30 so they're burning my stomach a bit today... next time I'll use less jalepenos or ensure I bring some Tums. 

That creeper at work didn't miss a fucking beat.  Texted yesterday, IMed this morning.  I told Alex that I already have a creeper and while he was surprised that it happened already, he wasn't surprised at all that it happened.  I think he and I will be facilitating "public services" tomorrow.  *wink wink*

______ is in a good mood today.  I want so badly to go talk to him but I have nothing to say.  I'd like to find out what it is he and Haley talk about when she's over there.  Maybe I can learn something and find some random reason to strike up a convo with him.  I thought about nothing else all weekend but him - that's a bit of an exaggeration when you think of my car issues but still... a lot of my brain power was spent thinking about that gorgeous smile he shot me on Friday, the laugh he let out, and his sexiness as a whole.  Like seriously it's getting to the point where I need to start thinking of some other dude so I don't fixate on him to the point of becoming a creeper myself.  Hence the "public service".  There's no fucking way in hell that exquisite creature would ever be interested in me.  Damn!  I could seriously drone on all damn day just about him.  I could prose the fuck out of my blog and stream-of-consciousness all over it's face for the ulitmate ______ money shot! 

Kirsten and I are officially no longer friends.  It's not necessarily that I did anything or that she did anything.  Someone thinks I want to fuck her.  Someone has clearly never met me for if they had they would know what a boy crazy mess I am.  Believe me, times have gotten tough to the point of me considering going the way of the vag but I just can't!  It bothers me, yes, very much, that I have lost her because someone thinks I look at her a certain way.  "Look", I want to say, "just because you were married and then found out you like pussy doesn't mean we're all one Kirsten away from playing for the other side.  I mean for fuck's sake!  I could dry hump _______ every time he walks by!  And that's someone I know nothing about except that he lives alone by DU, drives some kind of Audi, and is retardedly sexy.  But whatever, I can't force people to be comfortable with my presence in their lives.  It's just stupid that they're even moving into my apartments.  Like why?  When you're not letting me be friends with her?  Whatever.  The more I think about it, the more pissed I'm getting at someone.  All I have to say is congratufuckinglations for destroying yet another one of her friendships!

There are a couple of dudes who work at my dad's shop who are pretty hot.  Nothing compared to ______ but attractive enough to deter my thoughts from ______ to them.  One I've never spoken to.  The other is pretty cool.  He has good taste in music and is 28 but he has an 8 year old and a baby mama so who knows what his availability is.  Really I just need Alex to pop over and provide that service like ASAP otherwise I don't know what I'll do.  Seriously.  My attraction to ________ is getting a little out of control....

Maybe I should go take my lunch...

I saw it!

On his right wrist I saw just a bit of his sleeve.

God he is just so hot I can barely take it!!!!

Why the Good Lord, Universe, and my Guru thinks it's amusing to tempt me in such a way is beyond me! This is NOT funny! It's a temptation that I'm trying very hard to resist but any success in this area can only be attributed to his utter disinterest in me. So really there's no need for me to find him attractive. This is my written plea to remove what I feel for him from my soul.

<3

"______ ______ is typing a message."

You can type a message right here! He's so fucking hot my bones want to jump out of my skin just so they can be closer to his. Okay that sounds fucking creepy but you know what I mean. If not, or even if so, listen to the following:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TQrufAHPRv8&feature=youtube_gdata_player

I still get the feeling that he has absolutely no interest in me at all. Which is fine. I'm good with lusting from afar. :)

C470 finally claimed the life of my car.

My car died today. I hope they can fix it. I think I'll have to get a new one soon which is just fantastic given the instability of my job and stuff but it'll be good to mature in a vehicular way and my poor car has been through a lot.

______ asked me for change today. He walked passed like five other people and walked kind out of his way. :D My hand accidentally touched his. *swoon* But more than likely, the reality of the situation is that he didn't even think of needing change until he walked by my desk and moreover, most days I doubt he even knows that I exist. Chances are he wants Sam which is entirely understandable because she's gorgeous. Eh. It's also entirely possible that he wants to jump my bones. With some dudes you just never can tell.

-_-

Sometimes I shake my head...which I attribute to people demonstrating odd behavior, that of which causes me to contemplate on an almost existential level, inevitably forcing me to ponder just what the fuck is going on!

And I just keep shaking my head because I can't seem to stop myself from thinking about...well...weird shit that has been going on for a while. I don't like it, it makes me feel uneasy and I'd like for it to stop.

What is it about me that calls out for a certain type of person to act out in a certain kind if way?

Weird. Weird weird weird. I need to stop being so nice.

Oh yeah, B T dubs

I heard a couple of weeks ago on Car Talk from a woman and her sisters who've come up with a theory they call "Road Ugly".  The theory goes: the longer a woman is in the car, the uglier she becomes.   Either the woman or the Tappert bros. figured it's due to stress.

And while my new, temporary position is fairly stress free, I suffer from what I've coined as "Work Ugly" because as the day goes on, I get more and more haggard looking - hair all a mess, eyeliner creeping down my face, forming little dark cresents under my tired looking eyes.

Is it any wonder why ______ doesn't find me hot?  And why ____ only comes around in the mornings??? 

I'm not complaining, I'm still hot by average people standards.  Wink wink.  [what an asshole].

AAAANNND I published a post that I put together years ago, it's below this one, with some cool quotes that, while most of them no logner apply, are still adequate descriptors of how I felt at the time and find myself feeling occassionally. 

"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity." ~ E.A.P.

For me after C, C, & D: "I can embrace myself, hold my own hand, love me - but I can't gaze into my own eyes and feel my own soul lift me up. " ~ Tigress Love

From M to me, during & after me: "I don't know how to love you, I only know how to not let you go. " ~ Tigress Love

For me, from me, forever: "Yearn for where you want to go, not for where you have already been: Your future will be better, your days will be brighter, and your nights will be filled with the glorious heavens. " ~ Tigress Love


I decided to post these because I feel so full of hate for M. I wanted to remind myself what real love feels like. I wanted to remind myself of the way that he views me. I wanted to remind myself of what never to do again.


This is my linguistic abandonment of those negative feelings...

...but I'm scared... -_-

I feel like I'm afraid of everything.  Like fear is my default emotion rather than happiness or depression.  Don't get me wrong, not having a depressive emotion for the last six months has been nice as hell but only to replace it with fear seems like I'm getting the shit end of what was already a poop-covered stick. 

I'm having an antipasti-inspired lunch today.  Cheese and sweet snap peas, baby carrots and seaseme crackers, cranberries, peanuts and water.  Perfecto!  I like breaking the snap peas open and eating the seeds one by one before gobbling up the super crisp, super sweet shell.  As I sit here eating my delicious lunch and dwelling on things like school, work, and a lack of friends (and boyfriends for that matter) I find one reocurring theme: fear.  I'm scared, I think, because I feel like I've reached an unchangable point in my life, like I've made such bad mistakes no amount of effort will ever clear them up:

1. School - boy did I mess up big time here.  I can say it's not my fault, which I still don't feel it is, but at some point you have stop fighting simply for principal's sake and start taking steps in the right direction again.  About a year and a half ago, I decided to change schools on a whim.  First mistake.  I decided to go to Red Rocks for a bit since all of my friends were switching over.  Flawed logic much?  So I went ahead and signed up for some classes only to find that MoneyGram was going to be sending me on a business trip to Minneapolis.  I wanted to be responsible, to keep my gleamingly clean record the way it was, with a bright and shiny 3.8 GPA to wow DU.  I decided to play it safe, drop the classes, and resume the following semester barring any more excursions ala MG.  So I went onto the website, the one I had used to register, and found my classes weren't on there.  "Okay", I say to myself, "the normal Jen would take that for what its worth and move on but I'm Responsible Jen today so I'll give Red Rocks a call just to make sure that I was removed from my courses."  Second mistake.  While my intent was fucking awesome, my reliance upon the female student who answered the phone was not.  I trusted what she said which was that I would be automatically dropped from my classes for non-payment.  I didn't need to do anything through the website or through her.  The website, in fact, was going through a make-over, I was told, and that's why I didn't see the classes.  So I said thank you and went about my day, my trip, the rest of my year until last March when I received a W2 or W4 (I can never remember which) from Red Rocks.  Out of curiosity, I called them.  Again, Responsible Jen wanted to clear up any kind of miscommunication or confusion.  Third mistake.  I was told that not only did I owe Red Rocks money for that semester of courses but that I also received four Fs on my transcript.

4.
Fs.
On my BEAUTIFUL college transcript! 

So I did what most people would do: asked what happened, what went wrong, what I should have done and what I needed to do to fix it.  I was told the Fs may be negotiable but the money was not.  I was pissed.  I hung up the phone, not before politely disconnecting (not her fault I was given misinfo) and started getting ready to fight them.  I got all kinds of things together, from screen shots of my transcript to things written on their website and called them a day later, after I felt cooled down and armed to the teeth.  But no, things were not that simple and I would have to schedule and attend a meeting with someone, a female, in the admissions office.  I gave up.  I did.  Just like that, I rolled over, shoved my folder of weapons under an evergrowing pile of credit card offers and paid bills, and tried to put the whole Red Rocks fiasco out of my mind.  Which worked.  Until a few days ago when I started getting a wild hair up my ass to go back. 

Let me clear up one thing: I go to school because I like it.  Yes I see the value in a degree but I have also seen where it fails - it is not a guarantee of a job or of more money (or of compentecy for that matter!), in fact the only guarantee you get is the fact that you'll be receiving a grade on this thing called a 'transcript' - no guarantee that you'll even receive the piece of paper that I used to long for so badly.  Their value is terribly inflated but don't get me wrong, I still see how degrees play into life. 

I miss studying so bad you have no idea.  I know, I know, I'm a fucking freak but I do!  I miss it.  I want to be pushed against a deadline, forced to interact with other students, challanged to the point of pulling my hair out.  I want 150 pages to read for one class and 250 for the rest all to be completed in one night.  I miss the structure and the chaos that college courses bring. 

I miss school... but I'm scared...

I now have the fiduciary security (kind of) to clear up my debt to Red Rocks.  That's fine.  The problem is convincing them to take those Fs off.  I know that I should start with a phone call - a simple, straight to the point conversation to see what I can do and what they can do for me.  Perhaps the offer still holds that if I pay every penny they'll change the Fs to Ws (withdrawls or drops) or perhaps it doesn't.  Perhaps I'll have to take time out of my work day, without pay, to get this cleared up.  What is the worst that happens?  I pay and keep the Fs?  Re-take the classes?  I could try to weasle my way back into ACC but I fear that the two colleges are in cahoots - that each night they exchange academic pillow talk about one Jennifer Fassler and her failures at life. 

I eventually would like to make my way to CU Denver.  I really would.  I would like, one day, to don a cap and gown and walk, like really walk, with all of the confidence in the world that I was able to finish something. 

Game Plan #1 - call Red Rocks tomorrow to get the low down on what can and what can't be done.  Then go from there.

2. Work - I really don't like being a contractor - able to fired at will for no reason, no health insurance, no respect and no shot at internal positions.  It's disheartening and frightening.  I gave Daniel Lee my word that I would stay until the end of my contract and I have every intention of doing so but I'm starting to get a little worried because I'd like someone to want me to be their employee.  Now I finally know just how my mom and Tim have felt through every application and interview that doesn't result in a job offer.  I just have to be strong... but I'm scared...

Game Plan #2 - stick it out and grow a pair of balls.  Ask Daniel if you're able to apply for internal positions once the day gets closer. 

3. Friends - well there isn't a whole lot I can do here retroactively.  Most of what's done is done and it's hard to go back and pretend like angry texts and impulsive reactions didn't happen.  I can try to actually discuss what I've said and done with the people who've been hurt by them...but I'm scared...

Game Plan #3 - move forward and don't let the past dictate your future. Don't let what you've done keep you where you are, but rather see the damage it wreaked on the world and try hard not to repeat the same mistakes. 

Kirsten put it the best way: stop caring.  Everytime something pops into your head that makes you feel irrationally fearful, just tell your brain "I don't care".

I don't care.  I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.


We'll see if this works.

Working with Dan Look-A-Likes, Bodily Functions, Tattooed Shame & Safety Helmets

Week Two at _______ _____:

When I came here for my interview I had an interaction with a dude who's totally hot.  It wasn't until I was sitting at his desk with him last Monday that I noticed he kind of looks like Dan.  Fair enough.  Bad timing for my BCD (boy crazy disorder) because I've been like a fucking cat in heat over here.  For the first few days, I couldn't get sentences out right, for example:

Jen wants to say, "When I see 6.0 in the CC_Cnt_CN.... field, should that arise suspicion on my part and constitute for a more indepth review?"

Jen says, "When I see 6 in that one column, oh that one with the CC underscore CN thingie, is that bad?"

Wow.  What a fucking idiot. 

The floor I work on is seperated by a hall of elevators.  I notice on Day Two that there's a helmet perched atop some of the cubicles on the opposite side of my floor.  Kirsten and I discussed the helmet, it's potential uses and current purposes, and that we may need to steal for Alex since he's banging his head against the wall because he's so fucking bored.  Now I'm thinking Jen, the Special Kid, should be donning the helmet to protect herself from concussing as she falls all over herself for some dude who drives an Audi, wears aviators, and is speculated to have tattoos. 

So I've been striving, like really fucking striving, toward not finding him attractive.  I have to go to that extreme because if I find him even remotely attractive, I fear I may dry hump his arm as he's helping me figure out why someone is masking their IP address.  I've been doing okay, better than most times in the past when I've tried to control my BCD,  but it's gradual.

Before I continue on with Mr. Hot-Who's-Kind-Of-A-Dick-But-I-Only-Find-Him-Hotter-Because-He-Is I shall discuss the events that occurred on Wednesday afternoon:

So two days ago I find some really odd activity on two different reports.  The first interaction is fine: I send him the information and he says he'll look into it (I instant message him now instead of actually approaching his desk - a pathetic yet effective attempt to deter myself from drooling like Kirsten's bloodhound).  Cool.  For the next issue, I send him an IM only this time he comes to my desk to help me fix the SQL query.  Perfect.  When I get back from lunch I find that the query didn't work so I tell him. 

- I should note that I have been trying ridiculoulsy hard not to say "sorry" or "I'm retarded" because I am supposed to be a supervisor and if he were butt-ass ugly I probably wouldn't think twice about asking him questions. -

So I'm pretty blunt with him and say something to the effect of: "it didn't work" and respond with "nope" and "k" in order to make myself appear as normal as possible.  He returns to my desk and then calls another person over, a guy who's name I only know because ____ has mentioned it to me, and makes sure that his understanding of the field is correct.  This is where everything goes awry.  Not horribly awry, but awry nonetheless.

One of them, and I honestly prefer not to think about who it was, farted in my cubicle. 

FARTED. In. My. CUBICLE.

It's not like this didn't happen at MoneyGram - it did - and it was just as repulsive.  The problem with this Deuce-Dust is that it happened to be in MY cube while Mr. Hot-Who's-Kind-Of-A-Dick-But-I-Only-Find-Him-Hotter-Because-He-Is was in it!  Let me break it down for you:

If it was him who squeezed one out, that's fine, disgusting yes, and makes me re-evaluate if I should even consider this guy as someone I'd like to bump uglies with, but I can live with that.

If it was NOT him, then here he is, thinking I'm socially awkward, mildly retarded, AND that I either:
a.) have no control over my bowels OR
b.) that I have no respect for the olfactory system
Regardless he thinks I'm gross.  I have become that kid you don't want to sit next to in class because I stink and should have an aura about me like that of Pig Pen on Charlie Brown - something that should serve as a visual warning of the offensive stench that is about to meet your nose. 

As if things could not possibly worsen regarding ______'s perception of me, this morning, in the elevator, I asked him if it was okay that I was showing the bottom part of my tattoo.  Kirsten got this look on her face like she was about to laugh.  She told me later that the look on his face was priceless.  He looked at me, apparently, like I had just asked him if Christmas was in June. 

Just to summarize:

I can't speak.
I stink.
I'm fucking stupid. 

Oh yeah, and, in my pathetic little attempts to get him to like me, I've made some seriously dumb jokes.  So yeah, add that to the growing list of Things That Make Jen Unattractive.

I picture myself, out in a field of rye; the golden grains that look like catapillars walking on stilts, wave in the wind, soft and gentle, poetically unobtrusive.  Here I am, not with a catcher's mit, not surrounded by children who are about to fall off the ledge like Salinger so perfectly described, but I am standing there, shovel in hand, busily digging myself deeper and deeper into a filthy pit of all that is unappealing. 

Kirsten and I have decided that when my contract expires I should tell him I think he's hot.  I wish I could tell him now, so that maybe I had a fighting chance of preserving the few shreds of my pride that still linger; to try to save myself from continued and consistent embarassment but alas, it is not possible. 

All I can do is continue to avoid looking at him.  That and opening my mouth.