Friday, May 28, 2004


All of my posts from here on out through August will start, "I am so DAMN BUSY". Get used to it, embrace it.

I have no idea where this week went. Whirlwind. Phone to my ear, papers to fill out, locations to scout, negotiations, shaking hands, kissing babies.

The kissing babies part was way fun. For instance? Last weekend I went to a girlfriend's birthday party where there were about a dozen babies in attendance. I squeezed them all. One little two month old baby girl got all fussy on me when I was holding her, so I stood up and did the gentle bouncy thing which worked on babies #3, #4, and #5...but not on her. Just when I was about to give up, the father of the birthday girl walked up to introduce himself to me. The baby STARED at this man. MESMORIZED. Everyone started laughing because she would not blink, or move, or coo for a long, long time. Just stare. I told him he should hire himself out to hypnotise babies.

I've met and/or worked with quite a few interesting people this week. I'm going to highlight some of my dealings for this week so you can see what my encounters are like sometimes:

Spit or Swallow Dude:
This sounds like it could be saucy, but it is not. It is gross. This guy was one of those people who talks so much and so fast that he wouldn't take the damn .0001 second it would take to fucking SWALLOW and he had spit foam in the corners of his mouth. I think I gagged a little. Welcome Googlers searching for "spit", "foam", hell - "spit foam" "swallow", "fucking", "gag". Jan Brady sure goes downhill quickly.

Ms. Don't-put-that-there!:
I was setting up a retirement reception, and the lady hosting it welcomed me with, "Please feel free to set up anywhere! The entire house is open to you - do your magic!". I set something down on a table: "Uh yeah, we're not going to use that table..." (?), I move to a shelf: "I'd rather not have that there...", I move to a counter: "I'm going to try to leave that space open...", I switch to: "How about UP YOUR ASS?" Because I'm a professional. And I really wanted to shove it up her ass.

Neighbor kid:
I've seen him around the neighborhood, but I couldn't tell you which house he lives in. He's about ten or so. He came over and asked if I had a Game Cube, and could I lend him some games. How freaking BRAVE is that? I guess he had seen me playing X-box (through the screen door/front door), and assumed I had one. I was actually disappointed I didn't have any games to loan him because I thought his asking was pretty clever as well as cute.

Starfish kid:
I did a birthday party for a seven-year-old girl who wanted a starfish theme. Do you know how freaking hard it is to find STARFISH theme stuff? Hard. But I did it. And? I made her this cute little tiara thing with little fake starfish and was SO FUCKING PROUD OF IT, and she just went, "It's fine" when I showed it to her. It's fine. Until all the other seven-year-old girls oohed and ahhed and coveted it - then she's all pointing to me like we're best friends "I know! That lady made it for me!!!". It's fine.

I was going to write about a few more, but I've really got to be going. I love my job. I really do. People fascinate me. Especially the wee ones.

But I'm starting to feel guilty for making fun.

Sunday, May 16, 2004

Gold stars.

I'm sitting on my back patio right now, sipping a glass of wine, bundled up in a wrap because it's windy and a bit chilly. I've been back here working for about three and a half hours now, and it's been really nice, although I've been busy now and then doing other things like playing tug-o-war with a sock and my dog, and rescuing a moth who got tangled up in my hair. You'll be glad to know I didn't even scream, nor did I scream when a bee decided to park it on my boob while back here on Saturday. I was wearing a t-shirt with little flowers on it, so maybe he was confused. Or maybe he wanted a thrill.

Anyway, tonight I mapped out my whole schedule for the week, and I fixed my damn template, because I can't stand things being all half-assed and unorganized. If it disappears on me again? That will be the end of The New Jan Brady.

I know I've been whining a lot about having too much going on right now, but these are crazy times, people. Thing is, I created all this craziness myself, so I can't be all blaming other people and shit. Although I'd like to. It's all your fault! See?

Last summer a girlfriend gave me this journaly-type book called "The Book of Goals" for my birthday. In it, there is a page for you to list a goal, and then a ladder below it to list the steps needed to take to reach said goal - that you mark off with dates of completion. On the reverse page, you can write notes about what it's taken you to get to that goal. And little star stickers to place at the top next to the goal when you've reached it.

I thought it was pretty cute, but then of course I set it up on a bookshelf and didn't remember it again until a couple of months ago when I stumbled across it.

I decided to give it a shot. I started out with some tiny, realistic goals, such as business ideas I wanted to implement but never got around to, and things I wanted to do around the house. And you know what? I've really learned a lot about what my whole thought/strategy process is in reaching a goal.

It's kind of silly when you think about it, but I LOVE getting those damn stickers when the goal is reached. I've always been that way - I guess I'm a recognition junkie. When I was in school, if my name was up on a board somewhere, I'd do whatever it took to have as many stickers or checkmarks next to my name and every day I'd come to class and count them. If any other kid had more than me or was getting closer, I'd kick it up a knotch until I had the most again. I guess that sort of thing worked for me. I don't really understand why, but it did.

The more stickers I place in my book though, the more I'm seeing what I can really accomplish when I put my mind to it. Sometimes I'm going through so many motions during the day, and so many different directions, that it's kind of nice every once in a while to say, "hey, you wanted to get this thing done, and you did".

I guess it also helps because technically I don't have a boss, and I really only have my clients to answer to. Sure, they give me kudos when an event goes well, or I get things done in a timely manner, but do they care about my overall business, or what my client retention/new client numbers are? No. So, I guess this helps me to just be proud of one accomplishment at a time, and to inspire me to get the job done.

The bottom line is that things are getting done, and I'm feeling pretty satisfied. It gets hairy at times, and there are times when I have to realize I can't do absolutely everything I'd like to, but I can do what makes me happy. Even if it's putting a damn star sticker on a project that might have gotten put on the back burner time and time again.

Saturday, May 15, 2004

Taking a blog break.

Well, Blogger's having all sorts of problems, so I'm going to just let it be for a while until they get it all worked out.

Publishing either doesn't happen or takes several minutes to process each time I make a change, and I don't got that kinda time, if you know what I mean.

I seriously have 32 bazillion things to do over the next several weeks, and dealing with blogging issues is not one of them.

I will check back now and then to see how it's going, and if updating/customizing gets easier, I'll fix it up proper.

...and all 12 people who read me say, "damn".


Friday, May 14, 2004

Ch-Check it out

Aww yeah, new Beastie Boys.

I have lots of good memories tied to all things Beastie. Mary and I knew EVERY DAMN song in the late 80's/early 90's and would often only answer each other in Beastie Boy lyrics. And there was the night we danced on huge suspended surfboards in a club to "Brass Monkey" and Mary almost plummeted to her death. To which she said afterward, "At least I would have died happy." Amen.

My schedule is insane the next eight weeks. I will be busier than I have ever been in my entire life. That's alright though.

Oh, and my template's all screwy so I can't get to the sections to update links, the Brady pic, and the Randomness. I'm sure the friendly folks at Blogger will be helping me out with that soon. The Randomness one bugs me, because I don't want ya'll thinking I'm eating three Krispy Kremes a day. I mean, I can really neither confirm or deny, but PLEASE.

Wednesday, May 12, 2004


Wow, I whipped together my sidebar? In TWENTY minutes. It's kinda cute, is it not?

Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Yes, you are seeing spots.

Thank you, Blogger, for coming out with some snazzy templates. Me likey the spots. They're

Wish me luck as I try to work out the sidebar. This should be interesting. Do you think I'm going to list all 32 episodes of The Bold & The Bloglicious? Probably not, but I'll point you that way when they are updated.

This is how lame I am. I just discovered TODAY that I could put subject titles in my posts. Yeah, I was just bolding my first sentence. This is how fun updating the template's going to be.

Oh. And I can add comments all easy-breezy if I want to.

Check me out a little later.

Monday, May 10, 2004

Jan don't get out much.

Good God, I've been busy.

Yesterday I decided to take a completely 'work free' day, and we decided to go somewhere that we thought would be different, fun, and completely quiet since it was Mother's Day. So, we picked a casino. Classy.

Apparently, everyone in Northern California thought Mother's Day was the perfect time to go to a casino. I mean, EVERYONE.

We parked in section FF, and I suggested that it stood for Fucking Far-Away. Because we were.

The thing with there being so many people there though was that it was a field day for people watching, which I love to do. And I'm telling you, there was EVERY type of walk of life there.

We were starving when we got there, so we thought we'd hit the buffet. Two hour wait. So, we got tickets for two hours ahead and went and sat at the bar and had $2 drafts and stared at people. Or, tried to stare at people, because the people at the bar? They wanted to be your friend. And immediately.

One older lady sitting next to me? God, she broke my heart. She was all dressed up in a fancy pale green suit, a matching pale green hat with a huge feather in it, and a large coursage...that she bought for herself because her kids don't talk to her anymore. So I got to hear her whole life story and when we finally got up to leave she said, "Don't ignore your Mama". Which didn't make me feel like shit that I was in a casino instead of with my Mom or anything.

I decided to play the slots, and while I was walking around choosing one (how can you tell them apart anyway?), I could see that there were some die hard CAREER slot players. I learned a lot more about this when I actually sat down to play one.

First of all, you can't look like Miss Happy Go Lucky What Does This Button Do?, because you'll get the stink eye from the die hards. And don't look at the next person's slot either. And don't exclaim "Look at you!" when they win 324 credits, because by the look of response on their face will tell you that 324 credits ain't shit, so get back to your own damn game, missy.

I put $5 into a nickle slot called "Money to Burn" and was all la-la-la bored, when somehow I reached some crazy level where you get to play a different game and rack up crazy amounts of points. Or credits? I don't know.

Well, I was hooked. And when it was time to go check in at the buffet, I cashed out at $60. And I was pissy that I had to stop. Visions of my life going down the toilet while I played "Money to Burn" 24/7 in a pale green suit with matching hat flashed before my eyes.

The buffet? Still an hour behind schedule. We enjoyed watching people make complete asses out of themselves while they complained. More $2 drafts, and more people watching. And once, I thought I saw Ruben Studdard. That's when we decided to play the game where you pick out people and say which celebrity they resemble...which can be funnier than shit when you pick people that you imagine a celebrity would look like if they picked up a gambling problem.

Good lord the buffet was well worth the wait. So much good food, and my favorite part...unlimited champagne. And DELICIOUS champagne, which surprised me as well.

I was quite full, a little buzzed, and happy as a clam when we left the buffet. I was dared to exclaim, "I'm SO FULL!" or "That was SO GOOD!" to the passerbys who were getting grouchier and grouchier by the minute as the hours ticked by before they'd get to partake of the buffet. You know I did both.

All in all it was a good time, and completely recharged my battery.

And hey, Blogger has a snazzy new look, so one day when I'm not working 16 hours straight I'll be changing my template. Won't THAT be exciting.

Tuesday, May 04, 2004

Blink, blink, blink

I opened up my blogger account to write a fascinating little entry, but my mind is going a million miles a minute with many-a-thang to attend to, so when it came time to write (after updating links, picking today's Brady pic, and updating The Bold & The Bloglicious which has had 3 new episodes and why the hell haven't I let you know that?)...I just stared at the blinking cursor, which was waiting for me to get started already - very Doogie/Carrie Bradshaw-esque.

So instead, I'll give you a referral to a blog that made me giggle a bit recently: Mixed Messages. She's a Marcia, and yet we love her, don't we? Along with her near naming of her blog "Marcia Marcia Marcia", she also has an interesting post about giving your children chores. Which, I'd sign up for in a HEARTBEAT.

One summer day AGES (12 years?) ago, I sat all sloth-like on my couch and asked my roommate if she thought I'd make a good mother some day.

She said no. She said I'd put them to work.

She set the scene of me lounging on the couch sipping a glass of wine when my toddler son walks into the room:

Me: Hey. Who are you?

Kid: I'm your SON.

Me: Oh, cool. What's your name?

Kid: You forgot to name me.

Me: Dammit! Sorry about that. Hey, how old are you?

Kid: Five.

Me: Really. Do you know how to start a lawn mower? Do you know anything about wine bottle openers? Rub mama's feet!

I think I'm going to ask that same friend what she thinks now. Please hold while I call her...

Okay, this is what I got:

"Jan, you need to have kids TODAY. You would be the best Mom in the world - they would be laughing all the damn time."

"Could I still get them to open my bottle of wine? Because really? It's a NUISANCE. Damn corks and shit. Also? I'd forget to feed them. You know how most kids are like, "McDONALD'S! Can we PLEASE GO TO McDONALD'S?" My kids would see me head towards the drive-thru and be in the backseat going, 'She forgot to buy food again'".

My friend interjects with - "and then they'd say, 'UGH! It's Tuesday night! She's going to be screaming at American Idol AND then all glazed over watching Keifer Sutherland on '24'".

I am never reproducing. (And the world says: "whew")