February 2004 Dribblings

Category: dribblings

2.27.04
i met the new pastor today. he seems really nice and normal. dad, becky and i helped him move his stuff into a storage place. and because i am nosy i totally checked out all his furniture and stuff. it’s all normal. plus, he has a normal dog. not some kind of pure bred standard poodle like EP had, but a nice normal mutt dog.

he’s an Angels fan. since he’s been in CA for over 20 years i guess i’ll let it slide, but c’mon, the Angels? i thought it was some kind of law that lutheran pastors had to be Cardinals fans. by the way, i’m joking here. i don’t care what baseball team he roots for. besides, everyone knows that only Yankees fans are True Baseball Fans™. (that’s a neener! to pastor faith)

he went to the church today to check it out. and you know what he did? he went into the sanctuary. and then you know what he did? he prayed. to god. and he thanked god. for us. our church.
is that not wonderful?
it is such a relief that he is here now. and that he’s normal. and that he’s thankful to be here just as much as we’re thankful that he’s here.

for now, everything’s coming up roses.

2.26.04
dyed my hair blue today. it looks more normal now. the black hair was just too sad. every time i looked in the mirror i was disappointed.

dad and i heard an alanis song, ironic for those of you keeping score at home, on the radio today.
me: y’know, maybe i’ve matured or something, but this song…i don’t like it anymore.
dad: hmm?
me: this song. i used to love it. now i don’t.
dad: this song?
me: yeah.
dad: what is it?
me: this song?
dad: yeah.
me: it’s alanis dad. come on.
dad: oh. i wasn’t paying attention. she sounded all bitchy about something.
me: skknt. it is alanis.
dad: was she on her period when she wrote this song?
me: try the whole album.
dad: really?
me: oh yeah. she’s no ani or anything, but she’s still pretty angry.
dad: ani difranco?
me: yeah.
dad: i think she’s a terrorist.

i love talking with dad.

2.25.04
ash wednesday.
the ashes thing was pretty cool. i’m glad we had it.

i’ve managed one day without sugar foods. i did buy some diet dr pepper today, and the thought of drinking it grosses me out. i thought i better have some soda on hand in case i need a vehicle for bourbon. heh.

the weather gurus are calling for snow tonight. i hope that doesn’t happen. i have a ton of stuff to do tomorrow and i don’t need the town to shut down ‘cos some snow fell.

in paint news:
dad went to the paint store today to pick up some paint and when he got back he said, “well jaimie, the cat’s out of the bag.”
“oh god no.”
“yep.”
“how did they find out?”
“i dunno, but as soon as i walked in the door the lady said, ‘so i hear you do faux painting now.’ i told her that you do it.”
“oh no, was she mad?”
“no, she does it too.”
“i know, that’s why i asked if she was mad.”
“oh. she says she only does it for family and friends.”
“oh.”
“yeah. she says we should charge extra for it.”
“extra? how would we charge extra?”
“yeah, i told her we work hourly anyway.”
“besides, it’s really easy. i’d feel bad for ripping people off.”
“well it looks like you have a reputation now.”
“wow. maybe soon i’ll be notorious. that’s what i’m striving for.”

in other random:
i caught Toonces Whorecat reading the newspaper.
and still she refuses to communicate with me. i mean, hello? busted! you were reading the freaking newspaper! i know you understand english and most german slang, so why do you pretend not to understand me when i say, “stop making biscuits on my FACE!” huh?
sie slut! warum quälen Sie mich so?

2.24.04
shrove tuesday. word.

so i’m giving up sugar for lent again. so i was going to come home (from d&d) this evening and eat some good sugar-filled snacks, but my stomach hurts so bad that i can’t figure out what’s going on. the pain started pretty instantly and it’s killing me. it hurts so bad that if the doctor was open right now i’d go. but now, my only option would be the emergency room, and i don’t feel like waiting in pain for hours at the hospital.

i drank half a bottle of water. wha?

i have farted. i have crapped. i have taken a pepcid (i took my nexium this morning). and i’m in the worst pain ever. also i think i’m having a heart attack.

i had so much fun tonight and then this happens. i swear, if this was happening last year, laura would so be driving me to the hospital RIGHT F#$@! NOW. ugh

tomorrow is ash wednesday and i’m excited because we’re doing that thing with the ashes at church and i’ve never done that before. it’s gonna be huge. for real. i can’t explain why it’s so cool, mainly because there’s a gigantic pain in my stomach and i can’t concentrate on anything else at the moment. dear god, take me now. amen

anyway ashes. i think it’ll be a good thing. i think it’s gonna make lots of people uncomfortable because it’s not something that we ever do. i don’t know why, but it’s important that we’re doing it this time.
oh no, i’m gonna cry aren’t i?
dear god, please don’t let me cry during the ashes thing. that is, if i live through the night. amen

pain. the final frontier. these are the adventures of jaimie’s stomach.

okay this is getting ridiculous. pain. i hate you. i’m going to lay down and you’re gonna let me sleep ‘cos if you don’t, i’m going to the hospital and i’m not leaving til they take something out. and if i have to miss the ashes thing at church tomorrow, then i’ll make them take two things out.

2.23.04
so laura, liz and i decided to read the same book at the same time so we could have our own “book club”. i think our book club should be called The Boook Club. the 3 o’s stand for the 3 of us. in the club. it’s a trio. a trio of fun!

so my one rule that i was going to suggest was that we Make a Pact (which basically looked like we were doing that “one potato, two potato, three potato, four” rhyme) that we would not ever read that steinbeck novel that oprah made everyone read this past summer. we all agreed and potato-handed each other.

LC: hey, let’s not ever read an Oprah Book Club Book!
Liz: yeah!
Me: yeah!
(potato-hands)

Liz: and hey, let’s promise not to read ANY steinbeck novel!
LBC & Me: yeah! (potato-hands)
Me: WAIT! (jerking my hand back) wait! no! hold on!

Liz: too late! you potato-handed it! it’s a formal pact now!
Me: dammit!

anyway we are reading holiness, truth and the presence of god by francis frangipane. i’ve read the first chapter and i guess it’s okay. i feel like it was saying, “hey, stop being an asshole, yes you.” and i also didn’t like how the intro says that it’s not a “book of rules” when in fact, it is just that. still, i’m enjoying it. and it did get me to get out one of my bibles to check up on some scripture and then i kinda got sucked into the bible for a bit, so i’m sure that was good.

in other random:
i was talking to dad at work today.

me: hey remember those twins from last week?
dad: yeah?
m: i never grew up with any twins. they freak me out.
d: they do?
m: yeah. it’s weird. i didn’t know i was freaked out about twins till i was, y’know, around twins.
d: oh. well, i gotta tell ya…
m: yeah?
d: they weren’t crazy about you either.
m: skknt! oh yeah?
d: yeah. they told me.
m: huh. how about that?
d: yeah.
m: well, i guess i’m relieved.
d: not feeling as guilty as before?
m: heh.

also!
jimmy (finally) gave me fleegan.com! it’s mine! all mine! so now instead of pickle.fleegan.com i’m www.fleegan.com! how cool is that you ask?

it’s pretty darn cool.

2.20.04
so.
today was our “day off”.

so we did our errands and a couple of tiny jobs like fix a faucet at some old peeps’ house and spray some lung-eating chemical agent on a wall that had mildew all over it so we can go back tomorrow and killz™ it. and then we had to go change a lightbulb at the church.
the question is, how many pickles does it take to change a lightbulb?
(it helps to know that the bulb is 30ft in the air. ’tis no easy task.)

three perhaps? one mom, one dad, and one jaimie. then it takes 4 phone calls. then it takes driving downtown to get a key. then you have to drive four blocks to use the key to get it into another church to borrow their giant step-ladder. then more driving back to the church.

the ladder gets you half way to the bulb and then there’s a totally useless, giant pole that supposedly “helps” get bulbs in and out. then the bulb breaks in the socket.
then dad says some curse words.

then comes the driving back downtown to return the ladder. another phone call. then driving four stupid blocks to return the key. then driving back to the church to figure out what to do next. more cursing is involved. more phone calls. plans are planned. cursing. shaking of heads etc.

so how many pickles does it take?
so far, none. and boy, is dad pissed.

2.19.04
i’ve been thinking a lot about prayer. praying. pray.er.
so far i’m at a loss.
i feel like i pray the same prayer every day, and i guess that’s fine, but lately it doesn’t seem like such a great thing to pray the same ol’ ‘god, forgive me. i am a sinner. oh and by the way so-and-so is sick so y’know, help them? please? thank you. amen.’ prayer.

so i stopped. because it wasn’t real anymore. it was just this thing i said. so now when it’s “time” to pray i just sit there. and usually my prayer goes like this:

god, i just… don’t know. so anyway, amen.

seriously. that’s been my prayer. and i get so frustrated because i don’t know what to say to god.
just say something, anything, tell him he’s great, thank him for something, just talk you moron!

but i can’t. i can’t even think. it’s like my brain becomes a void. and i get so angry. so i try to read something or listen to a song or something to get my mind off my prayer block. i can’t just sit there and do nothing. ‘cos idle hands are the devil’s, um…idle hands are…
how does that go?
idle hands are the devil’s…porkchop? i can’t remember.

so anyway, praying right now seems to be this impossible thing. i’ve even considered making a God Phone by taking an old phone that’s not hooked up and talking into it. ‘cos i think maybe if i made it seem like it’s a phone call that i would feel more comfortable with the whole thing. but i don’t do that because:
A. how psychotic would that be? and
B. i’m afraid i’d be sitting around one day and it would ring. and the thing is
C. since it isn’t hooked up the only way to get it to stop ringing is to answer it.

trust me. it would ring.

anyway. occassionally i am able to pray. but it’s not the normal ‘hi god, it’s me, jaimie’ prayers that we’re all used to. nay. i totally zone out and blam! prayer vomit:

it’s a scary, gut-wrenching, soul tearing prayer-a-thon where i end up praying for EVERY PERSON I’VE EVER COME IN CONTACT WITH along with COMPLETE STRANGERS and i even end up praying for total assholes. then, when i’ve extinguished all the people i’ve ever heard of i start in on the ‘hey god, how great are you today!’ and i thank him for EVERY BLEEDING THING from wine to honey bees to musical instruments to bison, yes, buffalo. oh thank god for the buffalo! i have even been known to say, “photosynthesis?! you. are. a. genius!” and after i thank god for all the nouns i can think of, after i thank him for giving us science, after i thank him for the dying and the forgiveness and the love, i’m almost done and i’m winding down. i’m about to sign off. but then. i remember. there’s one last plea. and it reduces me to wretching sobs everytime. and when i finally say amen, i am exhausted and startled and even a little paranoid, “gosh i hope that was ok. i hope i didn’t prattle on about the Industrial Revolution like last time.” ‘cos i picture that SNL sketch where sally field’s character prays all the time, “dea-ah sahweet jaysus!” and jesus (phil hartman) comes in and says, “hey, prayer is great but you don’t always have to pray about every little thing…like praying for the noodles to not stick to the pan.” it was a funny skit.

so lately prayer has been all or nothing. i guess it’s the mostly nothing that bothers me.

2.18.04
this morning was a K-Tel Presents: Pat and Jaimie Sing All the Songs They Don’t Know the Lyrics To.
including such classics as:

neil diamond’s:
Cracklin’ Rosie la la la la….HAVE ME SOME FUN WITH A POOR MAN’S LADY!!!!

that kenny loggins song:
I’m Alright Don’t Nobody Worry ’bout Me, blah blah hmm laa la…DIP,DIP,DIP,DIP!

that song by those people:
Everybody here is out of sight…blah la la la hmm la DANCIN’ IN THE MOONLIGHT! LA LA LA WARM AND BRIGHT! IT’S SUCH A LA LA LA LA…. IGHT. DANCIN’ IN THAAAA MOOOOONLIGHT!

gordon lightfoot’s:
blah blah hmhm la good ship ‘n crew were in peril…la la la LA LA the WRECK OF the edmund fitzGERALD!

three dog night’s:
hm laa la la sittin’n on a pillow….la la blah this is the NIGHT to GO TO THE CELEBRITY BALL! LA LA TONIGHT! BLAH BLAH SOMETHING!

plus 900 more songs! including the finale grande! you’ll get to hear Pat and Jaimie combine all the Mama’s and the Papa’s lyrics they know to form ONE GREAT SONG they like to call I Saw Her Dedicated to the California Creeque Alley Dreamin’.

that is a great example of why the manufacturer recommends using oil base paints in a well ventilated area.

in other news:
we got home from work today and the house was cold. heat’s out.
PERfect.

in which i make laura uncomfortable:
we’re painting at this place and the people have twin daughters. i’ve never been around twins before, and i’m ashamed to say that being around them kinda freaks me out. they laugh at the same time. and talk at the same time and say the SAME THINGS AND TALK AND LAUGH AT THE SAME TIME. also, they look alike so it’s hard to tell which one is which. and i go into a panic when i have to be in the same room with them.

so anyway they come in and ooh and ah over the sponge painting and then they say something at the same time and giggle in unison and leave, meanwhile i’m on a ladder and doing my best not to scream out, “T-T-TWINS!! UNISON TALKING, LAUGHING IDENTICAL TWINS! IEEEEEEEE!” i don’t know why they make me nervous but they do. and when they left i sighed in relief and thought, “oh man, what am i gonna do when laura has twins?!” i paused for a moment and said, “buy them really noisy toys and teach them curse words, duh.”
heh.

and for those of you playing at home:
laura is not pregnant with twins, singles or puppies. but she’s probably having a cow right now.
ha ha laura. i kid. with you. about twins. ha? ha ha? laugh? please?
whoa. put down the gun. put it down, laura. put it- hey, when did you get a gun anyway? gosh, you think you know someone. first twins, now a gun?
<head shake of incredulity> i don’t know you anymore. </hsoi>

hey look, i’m kidding about the twins, ok?
are we still friends?
call me?

2.17.03
saw 50 First Dates last night. it was a sweet movie. but then again it’s got penis jokes and vomit in it, so maybe it’s not as sweet as other sweet movies. still, i laughed.

sponge painted a bathroom today. the people loved it. i have new #1 fans. the lady liked it so much she’s thinking about having the kitchen done the same way.
which scares me ‘cos her kitchen is bigger than my house.

i got a haircut yesterday. i was really trying to grow out my hair. i hadn’t had a haircut since the beginning of december. it was getting really shaggy and cool, but the back of my head was freaking me out. i couldn’t figure out how to “fix” it. so i went to Big Attitude (the haircut place) and got a pretty ok hair cut. not the worst. not the best.

most of the ladies know me there. the lady who was cutting my hair (beth? ann? charlotte? name?) had cut my hair before (i guess. i can’t really remember.) and she was surprised at how long it was (my hair). she was all, “your hair is a pretty good length, why do you want to cut it?”
“i have Beatle hair.”
“ah. let me get the clippers.” but i told her that no let’s not use the clippers this time, we’ll save that for the summertime haircut. anyway, i don’t know why i’m typing about this.

so now i’m back in effect with my Pixie Cut of Eternal Blackness.

also, if this post seems stupidly written and out of focus it’s because i was on the phone and trying to balance my checkbook while i wrote it.

2.16.04
in which i toot my own horn:
remember the first faux finish painting job i did?
well, the cabinet guys came to put in the er, cabinets, and they asked the home owners if they could come back and take pictures because they loved the paint job so much!

and tomorrow i have another faux finish job.

see jaimie.
see jaimie paint.
paint, jaimie! paint!
see jaimie rake in the sweet, sweet money.

also, there will be a Weekly tomorrow! yay!

2.15.04
had the most unromantic, boring-ass valentine’s ever. thanks for asking.

2.12.04
my cat is gone. where is my cat?
Toonces Whorecat, please come home!

2.11.04
sorry there’s no weekly this week.
sorry i wasn’t at d&d this week.

i had to go to the doctor (daktari!) ‘cos i’m having chest pains and also some kind of Stomach of Death Ache. the chest pains are weird ‘cos their really painful and i’m all, “hey jaimie. you aren’t having a heart attack okay? ‘cos you’re only 26.” and i’m all, “yeah jaimie i know. but damn this hurts.” and i’m all, “quit being a little bitch. you’ll live.” and then i say, “yeah, you’re right jaimie.” “i know.”

and then my stomach falls out. and that was some cool pain right there. walking hurt, climbing the ladder hurt, bending over was out of the question and drinking stuff? drinking anything created such a pain…a pain i cannot describe. on a scale of 1 – 10 i’d give it an 8. i figure 9s gotta be even worse and 10 is the pain that makes you pass out. and i didn’t pass out. so 8 pain.
but what if it was a 9 pain? hell, it was probably 9 pain all along.
it must’ve been a 9 pain, or i wouldn’t have gone to the doctor.

anyway i went to the doctor (daktari!) and he says i have an ulcer. and gave me some nexium. you know, www.purplepill.com? and i just want to throttle the doc, but i can’t ‘cos he’s a giant compared to me. but i want to scream, “nexium shmexium! i don’t have acid bleeding reflux bollicky disease! jerk!” because
#1. i don’t have acid reflux disease and
#2. it’s not a disease and
#3. i’m not an acid reflux whiner baby!

people with the acid reflux disorder are such big babies. i swear.
<big baby voice>”oh! i have heartburn all the time! even in the morning!”</bbv>
yeah. me too. so take a pepcid and shut the hell up about it. you’re whining about heartburn? jesus. there’s people out there with real problems. like cancer or being born without arms and legs and noses. and war. and also hello? noseless people out there!

and to all you poor, poor acid refluxers out there: i’m just kidding! haha! it was all a joke. i feel your pain. you poor, suffering, nice people. i’m glad they have medicine for you.

and to everyone else out there with normal digestive systems: those GERD tools are such whiners, huh? jeez, like the world revolves around their heartburn or something. and you know doctors can’t stand ’em. i mean, that whole elevate the head of the bed thing? sha, right. you know after prescribing that the doctor goes and calls all his colleagues.
“dude! scored another one!”
“what?! again? man, you are bad.”
“i know!”
“they didn’t even question it?”
“nope! idiots!”
“heh. you’d think they’d take a pepcid and shut the hell up about it.”
“yeah. they tell me pepcid doesn’t work.”
“i know. it doesn’t. you gotta take two of ’em.”
“i know!”
“dude, do you realize that you just prescribed gravity?”
“skknt!”
“skknt!”

and aren’t we all relieved that i’m not in the medical field?

anyway ulcer.
i thought ulcers felt all burnie. lemme tell ya, there’s no burn. just pain. giant pantloads of pain. it hurts to move. that’s craZy. and laughing? wow. that hurts. you try working all day next to dad and try not to laugh. it can’t be done. he’s too funny.

well, hopefully this nexuimshmexium will kick my ulcer down a notch to DefCon 3 or something more tolerable.

in other news:
watched $cortched the other day. very good movie.
watched intolerable cruelty tonight. also very good movie.

2.09.04
finished reading Luther’s Works Vol. 54 Table Talk and let me just say, i am so thankful that i live in the postmodern world and not the 1500s. also, jew hater much? also, woman hater much?

also, his philosophy on dealing with the devil, demons, witches, and nightmares was basically: these are bad things, and they can hurt you. but you shouldn’t worry about them, even though they can hurt you. what you need to do is NOT DWELL on those things (the things that are trying to kill you) but dwell on the things that god wants you to dwell on…like hating the pope.

i’m glad that we have protestantism or whatnot and that we don’t all have to be catholic or jewish. but i do have to say that martin luther was an assjack.

i’ve started reading The Confessions of St. Augustine. if you deside to read it i’d suggest skipping the first chapter, Childhood, ‘cos it’s really boring. except for that page about breastfeeding. when i read that i did ‘skknt!’ to myself and immediately felt 10 years old, but really, he was so into thanking god for his mom and wetnurse. kinda odd.

also reading the latest issue (#12 The Enemy) of Cabinet. i wish i worked for that magazine.

2.08.04
in which i go totally random:

hey, didn’t there used to be light brown m&ms?
wha’ happened?

2.06.04
this is the first time in the History of Dyeing Jaimie’s Hair that i’ve actually screwed up my hair. it goes a little something like this:
actually, it goes exactly like this:

*ring*
hello?
laura! hey! i’m feeling really girly right now. i want to change my hair!
what’s wrong with your hair now?
nothing! i just want to change it. it’s been months since i’ve cut or dyed my hair at all.
oh.
i have boring teacher hair.
no you don’t.
so how can i change it?
you could put black streaks in it.
okay! bye!

so i go to kmart and get black dye. and THEN i have a scathingly brilliant idea! i’ll put black AND fluourescent orange streaks! yeah! awesome!

*ring*
hello?
laura! i’m gonna do this awesome rad thing!
black streaks?
AND ORANGE STREAKS!
really?
YEAH!
sounds cool.
OK BYE!

i put the orange in first and wait an hour and wash it out. the orange is HOT! AWESOME! KILLER! so then i start to put in the black and its oogie. it’s wrong. it doesn’t go with the orange at all. shit.

but it doesn’t matter because laura and i already discussed that if it looks bad i’ll just black the whole thing. no streaks. just black hair. i can actually pull off having black hair because i have black eyebrows. i’ve had black hair before. no biggie.

so i put the black all over. but when i put it on the orange parts it turned…light purpleen. a goldenurple-blonde. it was gack.

*ring*
hello?
oh god laura! i just fucked up my hair!
what?!
i know. i said it couldn’t be done. it can.
is it falling out?
well. no. you’re right, it’s not fucked up. it’s just horrible.
oh man.
so if i’m not at your art opening tonight you’ll know why.
maybe a hat?
hahahaha this is so bad i can’t believe it. i thought black covers everything.
it does.
i know!
what color is it?
i…it’s…i don’t know! i’ve never seen this color before!
greenish?
orangeurpleen.
oh man.
i know.
what-
i gotta go bye!

so i manage to find a comb in the house so i can run it through my hair. and this comb is like, from my dad’s high school greaser years or something. it’s skinny and wrong. where’s MY comb?! so i use it and the very first time i run it through and bring it back up i sling a gigrando blob of black dye ALL OVER THE PLACE. it’s on the mirror, counter, toothpaste, floss, into the box of kleenex, sink, towel etc.

“WHAT?! THAT’S NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE! EVER! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I DYED MY HAIR ANYWAY?!”

then came the maniacal laughter.
then came the phone call.
*ring*
hello?
heyyouwon’tbelievewhatijustdid.

so i tell her about the blob of doom.

gosh, how many years have we been dying our hair?
forever!
that’s crazy.
i know!
all this ‘cos you didn’t want teacher hair.
i know! i have no one to blame but myself.
you didn’t even have teacher hair.
well it doesn’t matter now, ‘cos i’ve got black dye streaming down my face. shit. it looks like i have fat old elvis mutton chops. my ears look like they’re frostbitten.
skknt!
skknt!
skknt!
igottagocleanthisoffmyfacebye!

2.05.04
i can’t believe it. (why? why can i not believe it? i mean, why is it that i’m always surprised when stupid shit happens? am i really an optimist? could it be?)  

more stupid drama at the lutheran church. people (stupid fuckass people, the ex-organist and her brood of retards) are trying to get mom in trouble. apparently mom didn’t tell the evil priest that one of the members had a heart attack last week.
funny, the rest of the church knew about it. i guess if the evil priest and his wife had bothered to go to opening and sunday school then they would have known about it. but they didn’t know about it and were both embarrassed when it came out at bible study. which is where the retards come in.

“well if pickle would do her job and tell you things that happen, you wouldn’t be in the dark.”  

or maybe if the fucking evil preist would GO TO WORK he’d know what goes on. but that’s just me. well, me and anyone else with a brain.  

so mom get’s some phone calls. drama drama drama.  

she actually goes and apologizes to the priest. who then chews her out. she apologizes again. he chews her out. finally mom says, “yeah, so forgiven? or what?” only she doesn’t say it all cocky like that. she’s way too nice.  

only four more weeks and the bastard is gone. funny, i thought things would go fast. apparently they’re gonna go really badly and really slow.  

i am so mad that they pick on mom. she does more for that church in a day than he does in a month. don’t they see that? she actually cares for those people. why? i have no idea. i really hate them. they’re too manipulative to love. i don’t mind having to love stupid people, but evil, tricky ones? i’m sorry. no.  

so i guess for the rest of february (at least) i’m gonna have to go sit in on bible study and make sure nothing stupid gets said about my mom. ‘cos i won’t have it anymore. if it doesn’t stop, then i’ll nail my own goddamn theses to the church door.  

2.03.04
i got this e-mail from wisc.wendy today:

hey
it’s 2-3-04 today
yay!
xxx
wendy

wendy rules

2.02.04
new weekly.

and in other news:
so. janet “miss jackson, if you’re nasty” jackson apparently has breasts. huh.
who knew?

Dear News,
Grow up.

Thanks,
Jaimie Pickle

i don’t condone boob shennanigans on primetime TV, but i think if everyone would just shut up about it, maybe the whole thing would go away. and then we can get back to discussing how there were never any WMDs. because noone ever gets tired of hearing about that.

1.29.04
this week has been exhausting.
the people we’re working for this week keep adding rooms. every day they’ve added a new room. it’s craZy. i want to scream, “hey! we’re on a schedule y’know! we can’t just paint your bedroom ‘cos all of a sudden you feel like your bedroom needs painting! we came here to paint a kitchen and dining room! you’ve already added a hall and livingroom and now, now, NOW you want a bedroom? what? what was that? AND TWO BATHROOMS?!”
sweet jesus.
we thought we’d be at that house for three days. now it’s turning into a week and three days. i’m not complaining about the work mind you. oh heaven’s no. i need all the sweet, sweet money i can get. it’s the part about how we have other things scheduled because we thought we were gonna be at that place for three days ‘cos it was a kitchen and a dining room that’s driving me mad.
people.

went to a funeral visitation this evening. that guy must’ve known every person in the county! so many people! so many old people. the oxygen:estée lauder ratio was maxored out.

Dear Old Ladies,

Look. Let’s face it, you’re old. i can appreciate that. i think it’s fabulous that you keep on living. i mean, i hope that i have such a tenacious grip on life as you when i’m old. You are beautiful women. You should be cherished by your families and friends. You make delicious pies. You are women! Hear you roar!

So why, why my old sistas, are you still wearing estée lauder? don’t you know that that stuff is like, the closest thing to legalized chemical warfare? Don’t you know that when you press the atomizer you’re releasing a toxic cloud of rank into the necessary oxygen i breathe? Listen ladies, it sticks to the air. The scent actually stings the eyes. This can’t be good for your old, old lungs. Come on, at least sarin gas is odorless.

i’d also like to point out that it’s only called Youth-Dew. It doesn’t actually make you younger. And Beautiful? You’re already beautiful, you don’t have to stank your beautiful selves up with that reek-in-a-bottle. Look, it’s a proven fact that only my aunt lou could ever get away with wearing Beautiful. Are you Mary Lou? no? Then stop wearing it. And by the way, $42.50 for a 1 ounce bottle? i swear to god, you ladies scrimp and save every fucking penny you have, you clip coupons and use them, you only buy bananas if they’re on sale, you survived The War…you know what a dollar is worth! you don’t trust banks, you’ve put kids through college with money that you buried under the house, and you mean to tell me that you daren’t bat an eye for a $40 itsy bottle of sour flower stank?!

For shame grannies, for shame. i’m not saying you should not splurge on yourselves. by all means, go and buy some more of those sheer blouses (with the gold buttons and shoulder pads) you’re all so fond of, or some giant panties, or those pink and green sweatsuits (with the applique’ teddy bears on it? you know the ones) or even some peanut brittle. i don’t care what you buy with your thousands of dollars that you have hidden in your mattresses, but please, for the love, stop buying estée lauder perfume. If not for your eyes and lungs…do it for your grandchildren’s eyes and lungs. You think they want to hug you when you have that blech pulsating from your neck? Do you?!

And with all the money you’ll be saving you can make more pies!
i love you old ladies. i really do. And that’s why i’m telling you to please, please stop trying to smell like a french whore.

Your Pal,
Jaimie Pickle

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