Freaky-deaky

Something weird just happened.  I was sitting here minding my own business visiting Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen's site*** (don't judge me!), when I was thinking, "You know...they're a pair of girls I will never understand, but dammit if they aren't fine enterprising young women."

TWO seconds later there was a knock on the door, and two blond girls, who I suspect are not older than 13 asked if I'd like a car wash.  I have a Ford Explorer, not a tiny car, so I asked how much.  Then I asked why they were out and about on a lovely evening washing cars, thinking maybe they're raising money for some sort of sports team, and one girl said, "We're just bored and want some extra cash." 

Go, enterprising young women!

Well, then.  I immediately gave them cash and am now trying not to laugh while they struggle with my super short hose as I sit here with my glass of wine.  AND?  I'm sitting on a bench on my front porch WITH said glass of wine WRITING about them WHILE they are washing my car.  And I haven't gotten spritzed ONCE.  (But holy HELL did I minimize the MK-Ashley window, I don't need them calling the authorities on some drunk lady who has "a thing" for tweens).

Oh, and my horoscope according to Mary-Kate and Ashley?  It's HOT:

"With fire as your astrological element and the sun as your sign’s ruling planet, summer is the time for you to shine, Leo girl! Show your generous side by sharing the spotlight with a friend who isn’t feeling quite as confident as you are. Helping your pal will not only lift her spirits, but will make you feel like an all-around star as well!"

Oh my gosh you guys.  They just finished?  And my car looks AMAZING.

***Okay, Christ on a BIKE.  It's NOT me...Blogger won't let me freaking LINK anything.  I've done it ten million times, EXACTLY the right way, and it just won't do.  This is royally pissing me off.  Is anyone else having this trouble? 

Edited to add:  I didn't just spend twenty minutes giving these ladies business tips (including leaving flyers for people who aren't home and/or taking orders).  And they didn't give me gardening tips:  "You might want to water that."  "My Mom would have a HEART ATTACK if she saw that plant."

The Girlfriends' Guide To Fabulousness And Fantasticity, Part Deux

Us girls get all up in the grills of celebs again.  Go check it out.

Also?  I forgot how to do LINKS to things.  Because I'm dumb.  I even went to Blogger's Help Site, read how to do it and then thought, "That's HOW I'm DOING IT, DUMMY."  Well, no it wasn't.  Der.

A case of the Mon-days.

Let me give you an example of how the past few weeks have been going for me:

Thursday morning, 6:00 butt-ass-crack A.M.  alarm goes off (and WHY is it always Hooba Stank's song "and the reason is youuuuuu" that wakes me.  And why is it that if I hear that damn song anywhere else I immediately whimper for my pillow and want to lay down on the floor.  It's true.  I heard it in a store the other day and wanted to climb in my shopping cart and take a little napsie).

This is how I awakened that morning. 

"Hmmm, six?"  reach over and hit snooze.  On my stomach, stretch a little.  Right leg locks up into the worst cramp I have ever felt in my entire life. 

I bolt up, "holy fucking shit what the fuck is this I can't even stand it goddamnit fucking shit the PAIN!"

I stand up, let it work itself out (don't know if you're supposed to do that, but I couldn't very well lay there).

Two seconds after it's over, I sit back down on the edge of my bed and take a deep breath, and proceed to rub my eyes...only to SCRATCH MY DAMN EYEBALL.   "Holy fucking shit I can't open my goddamn EYE and when I do the pain is excrusiating and now I'm blind in one eye this is just fucking great!" (Obviously I am calm and rational in these type of situations.  CLEARLY.)

So, I walked around all day with one blurry, blinky eye that hurt like living hell.  I felt all Hugh Grant with the annoying blinking all day.  You know what I'm talking about.  High eyebrows like "what?", or confused squints like "what?", ha, or "whot?" like with an English accent.

This morning?  Although it's Monday and the busy week is looming before me?  I'm glad to say I can SEE and I won't get any weird looks from people suspecting I have a coke habit.

Happy Monday!  Whot?

Calling all Chachi fans.

If you didn't head this way via Martha, you best be visiting her to check out her post Martie Loves Chachi. SO funny.

Creative advertising.

One of the funny things about using BlogSpot is that the banner ads at the top will usually try to pick up key words from my posts to match with their advertising. I realized this today when I pulled up my site and the banner featured an ad for Best of Mr. Ed, Vol. 1 - mostly likely because of the mere mention of Mr. Ed in my previous post. HEE. That's funny.

I wonder what else they'd throw up there? I'm tempted to start talking all crazy just to see.

Confidential to the JLB: What if I were to mention...GAY RICKETS!

Horses and Icees.

I survived the weekend, yes indeed. Without a hitch? No, there are always hitches. In the form of embarrassing the snot out of me. I give you some examples:

On Saturday I went out to do a gig. On my way there, I stopped by Toni's house to loan her some tiki torches, because that's what you do when you have every decorating item known to MAN. At one point we were standing outside and I had made a quick call on my cell phone. I had set it down to head to the powder room. This is the only time I can think of in which Miss Toni could have used her powers for evil.

At the event, I was a little nervous because I was going to be meeting the CEO of a very large company I very much wanted to do some work for - he was going to be a guest at the party I was doing. So, I made sure everything was perfect.

Soon after Mr. Big Wig arrived, my client pulled me aside to tell me she would introduce me. I was excited. There may have been drool.

Client: Mr. Big Wig, I'd like you to meet Jan, she planned the festivities for today.

I reach out to shake his hand.

Me: It's such a pleasure to meet - -

All of a sudden? A very loud "NAAAAYYYYY" - horse cry.

I looked around. I hadn't ordered horses. Client and Mr. Big Wig look around too.

It doesn't STOP. NAAAAYYYYY NNAAAAAYYYYY

Mr. Big Wig looks back at me. "The horse is coming from YOU."

Me: Wha?

NAAAYYYY. I actually look UP AND DOWN MY BODY.

Then I realized. My cell phone. In my pocket. Which apparently has an option for your phone to ring as if Mr. Ed were having a temper tantrum.

Jesus Christ.

Fortunately everyone had a good laugh. And Toni is getting the BEAT DOWN this week.

Sunday, after a long day of catering to OTHER PEOPLE'S HOLIDAY FUN, I was asked what I'd like to do to celebrate myself. I had spent all day in the very hot sun, and my dogs were tired. I wanted to sit somewhere quiet and cool. So I was then talked into seeing Spiderman 2.

But it was very late. And I was OH SO TIRED. And I couldn't STAY AWAKE in a theater with nothing but BOOM BAM CRASH KABOOOOOOM. I was DYING. I wanted Tobey and Kirstin to GO AWAY because I was quite sick of their starry-eyed can't-have-each-other longing. I was cranky.

About halfway through, I thought a jog around the empty lobby and an Icee would do the trick. Wake my ass up good.

No. I was WOKEN UP at the end of the movie, having been told I was SNORING, and HOLDING my ICEE SIDEWAYS, therefore having ICEE JUICE spill all over my WHITE TOP.

I waited until every last person (all 4 of them who weren't out whooping it up on the holiday) left before I ran like hell to the car.

Lord and LORD.

And also? I think I RUINED a SURPRISE PARTY. I had been TOLD I would be getting an invite to a friend's birthday party. NO ONE SAID IT WAS A SURPRISE (guess it WOULD on the actual INVITE). Anyhow, I saw said friend this weekend and said, "Looking forward to celebrating your birthday next month!" She looked at me all confused. Perhaps she thought I was going to take it upon myself to set aside that day as a HOLIDAY and not do anything but celebrate her damn day, I don't know. Nice way to throw out a huge ass clue there, JAN.

I'm pooped. And this week? Will be CRAZIER. If I get through it without sharing the idiotness that is me? PRAISE THE LORD.

Working for the man. WOMAN. Me.

My life this week has been a huge blur of meetings, events, paperwork up the ASS, to-do lists, and an endless list of phone calls to return. If there's ever a fifteen minute period where I don't have the phone to my ear? I feel abnormal. It's exhausting, my friend. I seriously drop into bed at night and when the alarm goes off I'm all, "You are fucking KIDDING ME. I JUST GOT IN BED."

I've decided to call this The Summer Jan Develops An Ulcer. I've been doing all these crazy things to try to avoid it. Like when a stressful situation comes up or a deadline is looming, I talk to myself in my head. Nice, soothing talk. "You'll get it done." "You wanted this." "You do not need to buy a gun." "You can use the 'f' word as soon as you hang up from this call." "Eating lunch in your car is like a picnic!"

Oh and the dreams I'm having? Bizarre. Scott Baio made an appearance this week and taught me how to fly a kite. His kite was shaped like Beyonce's head. He's alright, that Charles in Charge.

I'm going to sleep like one crazy fool in September, believe you me. It will be called The Fall in Which Jan Hibernates.

While most of you will get to enjoy your long holiday weekend with your family and friends? I will be working my ass off. Which is pretty hard to do, considering I thought my ass fell off a few weeks ago.

Aww, you're crying for me now. Aren't you sweet. You really are.

I don't know what's sadder - all of my whining? Or the fact that this post makes no sense. NO SENSE.

Is sadder a word? Me not sure. Back to work, chop-chop...