Jen Is Good At Something, (hopefully) pt. 1

So for those who bet that I would fail the “Getting Jen’s Ish Together” challenge, you all just got a little richer (congrats, dad). I’ll spare you the lame excuses as to why I suck and just pack my bags, leave the mansion, and flick the cameras off on the way. But these past few weeks weren’t all in vain — I lended a hand on a project, and from it gained a couple bucks that will immediately go to buying a pair of bridesmaids shoes which I shall recycle unmercilessly in the workplace until a promotion. Also, in the “getting healthy” department, I’ve started drinking a lot of water habitually, and water is life, so really, I’ve gained so much life. There’s so much win amidst the lose. You just gotta look really hard.

I'm almost done reading every one of these of its series. All personally autographed copies from the author, of course. That's how we do in WeHo.

I’m really here to announce something I’ve discovered that I absolutely rock at. Isn’t that what blogs are for — to impress people with your cool skills and fun life events? So it first started off with Curious George and Fancy Nancy picture books. And suddenly after a one month, once my talent was discovered and ever so acknowledged by two young girls, we’ve graduated to 100 pagers.

Friends, I master reading bedtime stories.

The girls are suckers for any type of story. They grip the fringes of their baby blankets while I moisten my mouth with Diet Coke and speed through the pages, belching bubbly juice after every few stanzas. I treasure these moments because besides TV, this is the only activity that keeps the girls quiet and from completely destroying each other (little girls apparently are Ultimate Demolition Machines). I also treasure these moments because, heck, I ADORE stories.

One can say I unfail so hard at this that I’ve grown quite haughty over my ability to switch voices for each character, insert dramatic pause at the right moments, and tickle other moments with a pinch of laughter. I’m not a mother, neither am I a goose, but wouldn’t even know this if you saw me in action.

I was reveling in the glory of my readership skills one day that I realized, c’mon Jen, let’s take it up a notch. I bet you could come up with better stories than the ones you are dictating. I mean, Harry Potter? Please.

So to add onto the list of Things To Do Before I Die, I’ve got “write a children’s book”. It’s right after “get your freaking car repairs done already”, so let’s say it’s a 50/50 chance it’ll actually happen.

3rd Grade Crushes Were a Lot Different in My Day…

A conversation when driving home from school on a rainy day.

The Confessional. I learn everything about the girls when they're in these suckers.

Jen: So what do you guys do during recess when it rains? Please tell me you know what Heads-up 7-up is because that’s like the best game ever invented.

Girl: Usually a bunch of us girls go into a classroom and flip through the entire yearbook to look for cute guys in the 6th grade. When we find someone, we ask someone in 6th grade who has the class directory for the boys’ parents’ name and their address. And then we google their house so when we pass by it in the future, we know what his house looks like so can look for him. Sometimes he’ll be walking out of his house, and if you happen to pass by, you can catch a glimpse.

Jen: Oh, I see. This is a fancy process for when you have a crush.

Girl: No, this is all before you actually decide to have a crush on the guy because you need to know everything about him to make sure he’s a good person. You ask any of the 6th graders you know what he’s like. Sometimes the yearbook will list out what he likes to do and stuff like that.

Jen: So…when do you actually just talk to him?

Girl: Never.

Girl in the Carseat Next to First Girl: Aiden is in love with me.

Girl: No he’s not.

Girl in the Carseat Next to First Girl: Um yeah he is. He copies me and chases after me like everyday.

Girl: No, Aiden is gay. He’s always with Enzo. Duh, everyone knows that. They still take baths together.

Welcome to life at the most expensive private elementary school in West Hollywood. It sounds a lot like the mid-twenties.

A Month of Celery and Sweat (hopefully)

I never celebrated Halloween growing up, but if I did, I would've worn this because Christmas is way cooler than stupid vampires and witches (which, by the way, is what every kid is going to be this year--thank you Edward Cullen and Wizards of Wetherly Place). By the way, does anyone have a kid Jaron and I can borrow? I hear trick-or-treating in Beverly Hills is quite something.

Cold weather transforms me into an unusually happy person. Today I sat at work smiling like an unproductive (underpaid) fool, fantasizing of rainboots, Christmas music, and Peet’s pumpkin lattes. And I felt inspired.

I’ve decided that before I head up to the wonderful Bay Area for the holidays (LET IT BE KNOWN THAT I MISS NORTHERN CALIFORNIA), I want to have something proud to bring home to mom and dad. So far, with my first handful of months in the wild (ie being completely financially independent in West LA), I’ve gained a humble savings account, an unacademicked brain (that’s right — unacademicked) and a few inches around the waist. Hi mom and pops, I got significantly fatter and dumber since you cut the cord!

=(

So here is my plan for mental, spiritual, and physical detox: exercise everyday, eat healthy everyday, read the bible (RSS feeds ftw) everyday, and learn something new everyday. If I can honestly do all of these every single day with the utmost integrity until Thanksgiving, I will let myself use the money I went underbudget with these past couple of months to buy myself new shoes and work clothes.

Oh, I better do it. Especially now that I’ve announced it to the internet. Wouldn’t want to be a public disgrace now would we?! (Hee hee hee, this pressure is all part of the plan.)

Also it’s getting embarrassing wearing heels that are so worn down that they clack like tap shoes around the office. I’ve even used office scissors to trim down some of the leather that started flapping when I walked. And today, one of the girls I nanny asked me, “Why do you wear the same clothes all the time? Like this dress you have on. Is it, like, your favorite or something?”

“I’m allowed to dress like this because I don’t go to school in West Hollywood everyday,” is what I should have said. Instead I said, “Well, you see, the reason is because, look, my boss prefers us to dress plain at work so it’s, like, less distracting, and, you know, I just don’t have a lot of plain clothes, so yeah it totally sucks.”

Being put on the spot like that reminds me of the time when I came back for a second interview and before he could even say hi or shake my hand, I announced, “Hope you don’t notice that I’m wearing the same outfit as last time! LOL!” except I wasn’t really put on the spot that time so nevermind.